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The door did not chime, but rather Kati came directly in. His people knew that if he was in the ready room rather than his quarters, he was unquestionably available. He did not turn from his observation of the spectrum of the warp tunnel through the chamber’s narrow and tall window. Kati asked the replicator for a glass of water. He then heard her move about, taking a seat at his desk.
“What do you think happened?” she inquired after a few moments of easy, companionable silence. “The Earth we knew was divided, disorganized, torn by wars and unfairness, but it was never quite like this… not everywhere, anyway. By all accounts, it should be better. They can summon food, water and clothing from thin air and can travel to space, which is infinite, so there is no need to fight for land and resources. What could have gone so wrong?”
“You have read their historical accounts the same way I did,” he remarked mildly, not fully tearing himself from his musings.
The glass clinked, as she set him on the metal table. “We both recognize propaganda on sight, Khan.”
“Power and the technology of one errand alien ship who unwittingly ignited the ambition of a confused group of humans after a devastating nuclear war. One wrong decision followed another and then another… . We all remember those, Kati, or how dreams of a better world grow poisonous and misguided.”
He turned to look at her. His old friend’s eyes were ablaze. Regret mixed with uncertainty in those familiar hazel depths.
“It wasn’t the same,” she said grimly. “We were attacked first.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter now. It was a long time ago. We are here, we survived.” He paused, letting the moment pass. Their history weighted heavily on all of their shoulders and in that room its presence was so poignant, that it was as though it were a third party to their conversation. “How is your neighbor?”
“Quiet,” she replied promptly. “She keeps staring at me, when she thinks I’m not paying attention, as though I’m about to tear her open with my bare hands and eat her. Renhold says she’s not keeping her appointments.”
He nodded imperceptibly. Kati was concerned, but she would not question him, now that his decision had been made. Khan acknowledged her doubts and even shared them. They could trust no one but each other, they had no one but each other, stranded three hundred years out of their time, flung into the vast bareness of space, tiptoeing around a tyrannical empire lead by blood-thirsty psychopaths, who would kill them all the second they outlived their usefulness. He needed all the resources he could get, if he were to escape with his people. But someone with Carol Marcus’ qualifications would never willingly work with them or even if they did, they would betray them given half a chance. Carol was a slave with nothing to lose and nowhere else to go, nowhere to run. And he knew from experience that despair drove people to do just about anything, regardless of the reason they had to hate the person lending them a hand. Taking on Marcus’ daughter had been a calculated risk, but it was one he had to take.
Khan walked to the door. “You should rest, Kati. Your shift ended an hour ago,” he told her kindly on his way out.
# # #

Khan knocked on Carol Marcus’ door. She let him in quickly, though it was obvious he had roused her from sleep. There was a pink pillow imprint on the left side of her face. Her golden hair cascaded messily past her shoulder in tousled strands. Her mismatched eyes were swollen and restless, her gaze darting uneasily around her room, going anywhere but in his direction. The scrap of material barely covered her still too thin body. Bones stuck out of her tiny shoulders, which trembled slightly. Her heart beat like that of a scared rabbit. Her spirit had been broken through brutality, any inner strength she might have had trampled upon and ripped straight out of her. All she knew now was blind survival and stark terror.
Pity surged within him, but he snuffed it. His first duty was to his kin and family and they were on borrowed time. He needed to plan ahead in order to protect the people he held most dear. Obedience had been instilled into Carol Marcus and that was something he could use to his advantage. To a degree, to hers as well.
“You will go to see the doctor,” he said in a tone of voice that made even augments stand to attention, training a commanding gaze upon her. “Later. Now get dressed. I want to show you something.”
He turned around to give her privacy. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but you are safe on this ship. Nobody will lay an unwanted hand on you. Not me and not anyone else.”
The rustle of clothing behind him stopped. “I’m ready,” she said timidly.
He whirled around only to discover that her definition of dressed consisted of a low-cut, purple bustier and a matching sash so short it verged on indecent. He almost felt uncomfortable looking at her while she was wearing that. How the Terran Empire had managed to win any battles with soldiers dressed practically in underwear was beyond him.
She was still shaking, her gaze now fixed on the floor. His assurances had rung hollow to her ear, but he didn’t blame her. Khan had survived a childhood in a medical facility as a lab-rat, being hunted by mercenaries and every government on the planet that had known about his kin’s existence and several wars. He recognized a trauma than ran deeper than the marrow in the bone. No matter how much time it would pass, Carol Marcus would never forget and could never be put together again. Despite himself, something deep within him wept for her, awakening the same ancient instinct that had always made him act more like a father within his family than a brother, the unfathomable urge to shelter and protect. It was a powerful one, just like his anger against those who had the misfortune of scorning him.
He took one step in her direction and then another and another. He raised a hand and used it to cover her right cheek, lifting her chin with his thumb. Her lower lip was trembling and her eyes were full of fear. His free arm wrapped itself around her waist and he drew her against his body. He held her close, her cheek pressed to his chest. Her tears seeped into the material of his shirt, the wetness reaching the skin underneath. She didn’t sniffle, just cried quietly in his arms, as they cradled her.
# # #

Carol looked upon the largest weapons bay she had ever seen: filled with drones, torpedoes and armored shuttles.
“Why do you need me, when you can build all these yourself, despite the three hundred gap in knowledge of technology?” she asked.
“Even I can’t be in two places at once. I need someone to design ground defenses and see them raised from scratch. And I need an expert in applied physics to see to civilian installations.”
She looked at him standing on the edge of the alcove above the weapons bay with narrowed eyes. “The Empire would give you a planet of your own?”
He turned his head towards her. His eyes changed color with the light and were now a brilliant steel blue, darker on the edges and speckled with gold around the pupils. There was viciousness in them, viciousness and contempt. She found it easier to stare him in the face now. She had expected the worst, when he had reached for her in her quarters, but instead he had hugged and comforted her. Even now she still felt the solid warmth of his body anchoring hers.
“Christopher Pike sent us to patrol the Klingon border hoping that his enemies will take care of the problem, before he has to,” he told her. “Or better yet, before I take over Starfleet myself or overthrow the Emperor.”
Carol felt nothing at his calm pronouncement. The Emperor was a cruel, capricious dictator. History remembered Khan just the same. Despite his apparent kindness to her, she didn’t see the difference but appreciated his caution in surrounding himself with weapon specialists.
“He need not worry,” he went on and peeled himself off the railing he was currently leaning against. “They can keep their empire. It’s a giant with feet of clay that will not last through the century. All I want is a home for my family, a planet that will accept your rule or an empty one. Either will do.”
She gawked at him as if he were mad. Perhaps he was. “The Empire has endured for hundreds for years.”
“Through terror and terror lasts only until people stop being afraid.”
She opened her mouth and then quickly shut it, reminding herself she was no longer a free woman and that she was better off holding her tongue before her master.
“You can speak freely with me,” he said.
“I… .” The words were burning in her throat, but her lips would not move. Everyone in the Empire was wise enough not to speak freely, if they wished to live. So much as painting freely had killed her mother.
He took a step in her direction. “Say what you wanted to!” He voiced it like a command.
Tears prickled at her eyes. “You built your empire through force,” she whispered.
A slight smile grazed his lips. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She nodded her head energetically.
“All empires are built through force, but they are maintained through order and rule of law… and long-lasting peace, not by overextending the front lines through mindless contest.”
He stopped right in front of her, his presence overpowering, and produced an agonizer from his pocket.
Carol froze in place, her heart stuttering in her chest, fresh fear singing in her blood, but she did not flinch away. To do so would only double the time she would be in pain.
He held the instrument at the level of her eyes. “Renhold and we discovered that a creative use of this erases a slave’s serial number.”
The number he spoke of had been burnt high on the left side of her chest. It was supposed to be impossible to remove.
“What you are suggesting is a capital crime,” she said weakly, barely able to believe the words coming from her mouth.
“So is slavery,” he snapped, his voice raising slightly. “I had a serial number, too, once. It was on a tracker put in my head. I crushed the skull of the man you did that, when I was fifteen years old.” He lowered the agonizer to her chest. “This will hurt, but there are no sedatives that can by-pass the effect of the instrument.”
She shook her head. “Erasing the number won’t make me free, just an escaped slave.”
“Not on my ship,” he groused.
“So you’ll let me go?” she inquired before she could stop herself.
He smiled again. “You have nowhere to go. In the Empire you’ll always be a slave. The same is true with the Orions, the Cardassians and the Gorn. The Klingons execute any human on sight; the Romulans torture them first. And the Tholians will cut you open to see what’s inside.” He pressed the agonizer into her skin, without turning it on. The metal was cold.
She raised a trembling hand to rest on his wrist to stall him. “Did you kill my father?”
He did not move the agonizer. “I did. He held my family hostage and threatened to bleed them dry while I watched, if I didn’t build him the weapons and warships he wanted from me. There is nothing I would not do for the people I hold most dear.”
He looked at her with eyes that were now golden-green and filled with grief and determination. “Hold onto me,” he ordered and Carol grabbed onto his shoulders, her fingers digging into muscle through the material of his shirt.
The pain was instantaneous and sharp, slicing through her, as though the device had ripped her chest open, grabbed onto her heart and twisted it viciously. A cry was torn from her and it felt as if it had been pried from the depths of her soul. She couldn’t remembered it hurting it so terribly before. His lips moved, but the words fell too far away from her ears. She was trapped in a vertigo of suffering that split her nerves. Then it was over, the agonizer removed from her body. Her knees buckled, but his arm around her waist supported her. She had not realized when he had touched her. Her cheeks were wet and she was shaking harder than before.
“It’s over,” he assured in a low voice.
Carol looked down at her body. The serial number was gone, leaving her skin red and irritated in its wake. An unreasonable joy bubbled in her chest and smiled through her tears. Her hands were still on his shoulders.

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Carol sat down in a corner, her arms wrapped around her bony knees. She was the topic of the conversation between the two men in the room, but she did not bother to follow it. The outcome would change nothing: she would still be property, a slave. She cared little for who owned her next. It had not always been this way for her. She had once been a Starfleet officer, a celebrated weapons expert with a PhD in applied physics, born to a life of luxury and privilege, the daughter of an admiral who had plotted, schemed and assassinated his way to the supreme command post. But then he had found it: Botany Bay, the 20th century sleeper ship filled with augments locked in their cryopods. Among them the famed tyrant of a time past, Khan Noonien Singh. Alexander Marcus had thought that the brilliant tactical mind the Terran Empire in all its greatness that failed to parallel would be just the advantage they needed in their ongoing conquest of the galaxy.
For a whole year, the plan had worked: Khan’s military genius had helped built a new type of warship, the Dreadnought, a majestic one with giant phaser banks, long-range photon torpedoes, attack drones and defensive plating in addition to a new generation of shields. Her father had grown lax, drunk on his triumph and dreams of the imperial throne. That had been when Khan had escaped and in order to liberate his still frozen crew that her father held hostage, had allied himself with the captain of the ISS Enterprise, James Tiberius Kirk, who had a powerful friend with Command: Admiral Christopher Pike. Together Khan and Kirk had lured Admiral Marcus into a trap and murdered him, while Pike had decimated his supporters at HQ. Carol had been promptly stripped of her rank, expelled from Starfleet and sold into slavery.
At first, she had resisted, almost biting off the ear of the member of the Orion Syndicate who had bought her. He had ordered her whipped nearly to the bone then had her healed and given her to his crew. Afterwards he had sold her to Commodore Matt Decker, the commanding officer of the ISS Constellation. Decker had a personal beef with her dead father, who had passed him over for promotion one time too many. Carol had been angry and mad with grief and when Decker had tried to force himself on her, she had again fought back, giving him a black eye and scratching him, until her nails had broken off and her own fingers bled. His guards had dragged her to the agony booth, her clothes still torn and streaked with blood, and left her there until she had passed out from the pain. A medic had revived her, only for a new session to begin. She had lost track of time, her own distorted voice gurgling out animal screams she had barely recognized as her own, while everyone of her nerves had been flayed raw.
She had stopped resisted in the aftermath, letting Decker avail himself to her body, staring at the bulkhead with unseeing eyes, as he did. When he felt generous, the commodore mounted loud parties for his senior officers, during which the alcohol flowed freely and she was being shared around. Even her compliance did not spare her from the agony booth, in which she was regularly thrown on her master’s whim, or the use of the agonizer. Pain was part of her daily existence and as the weeks bled into months, it became all she knew, doled at random, vicious and eviscerating. Pain, fear and hunger. Only Decker had the code to the replicator in his quarters, where she slept as well on a narrow, hard pallet on the floor, at the feet of his bed, and he only fed her when he remembered, which was once a day at best, throwing her scraps from his own meals. She lapped at them like a dog trained at her master’s heel, while he laughed and taunted. She didn’t care. Her cramping stomach overrode the shame. Her diminishing body with bones protruding from the pale skin did not become less desirable for Decker and his loyal officers and she still had to endure frequent and awful violations.
Then today, as she was waiting for her owner’s return, curled naked on the floor, shivering in quarters that had been forgotten unheated, Decker walked in with a new companion. A low, thick baritone, sepulchral as it echoed against metallic walls, inquired about her price, before the stranger pushed back the cowl of his long, black coat to reveal himself to be Khan Noonien Singh, the man who had caused her father’s downfall. A fresh shiver of terror clawed its way up Carol’s spine. If Khan wanted to buy her, it could only be for some horrible, protracted revenged against her Dad, but then she recalled that anything the augment might do to her could hardly be any worse than the current nightmare that was her life and let her mind drift into that hazy zone of nothingness it so often wandered into these days.
She had no notion of how much time had passed, when a callused hand dug into an already bruised shoulder, dragging her to her feet. “Get up,” Decker snapped at her and pushed her forward via an elbow to her ribs that awakened several dormant ached in her body. “She’s all yours,” the commodore added in condescending tone.
Carol did not look up. There was no point. She knew to whom she belonged now. A heavy coat that was too large for her dropped around her shivering body a moment later. She did not react. A communicator opened within her ear shot.
“Two to beam up. Directly to sick bay,” Khan ordered.
# # #

Carol found herself in a medbay that was considerably larger than those on Constitution-class ships and had arched black walls. Blue light spilled from above and onto the equipment and the biobeds. Khan was speaking to someone Carol saw in the periphery of her vision: it was an elderly female Trill. Carol paid them no attention. After a while, the augment walked out leaving them alone. The alien removed the coat covering her. It occurred to Carol it might be the same one Khan had been wearing, when he had entered Decker’s quarters. She shrugged off the piece of information; she had no use for it.
“Don’t be afraid, dear,” the Trill spoke softly in a warm tone of voice, using Standard. “I am Renhol and I am a doctor.” She gestured that Carol lay down on one of the biobeds. Carol obeyed without a word. Decker always punished her, if she spoke unprompted or without prior permission. But most often he punished her for no reason, just to amuse himself.
Renhol covered her with a sort of medical sheet, but not before scanning her body with a triocorder, making disgruntled noises low in her throat, as she surveyed her readings. Carol stared at the ceiling, losing herself in her head again. She was disturbed several times, when the doctor stabbed her neck with hypos, but the slight pinches were a far cry from the torment of the agonizer. Her pupils grew heavy and her head fuzzy so she let her eyes drift closed and fell asleep.
She awoke with no idea of how long it had been, but feeling surprisingly refreshed, warm and blessedly free from pain, although her head still felt off. She stretched, enjoying the lassitude in her muscles, and noted that she was now covered by a duvet. After a moment of disorientation, she remembered that Decker had sold her and to whom. Her fear spiked again, now that she was rested, and she wondered if Khan had brought her to the infirmary to have some retaliatory medical experiments performed on her. If he had, there was nothing she could do to stop him. Opposition would only bring about more pain and violence. All she could was wait.
She did not have to wait long, for the doctor returned almost immediately and with a glass of water, which she held out to Carol. Not knowing what else to do and feeling parched, the woman took it and drained it instantly. The Trill smiled slightly at that.
“How are you feeling?”
Carol fell back on the bed. “Better,” she confessed.
The Trill tutted approvingly. “Good. I gave you a sedative, while I tended to your bruises and lacerations and you had quite a few of both. You also had a broken rib and stress cardiomyopathy undoubtedly caused by intense physical distress. I took care of that as well. The malnutrition will take longer to remedy, however. I gave you some vitamins already, but we’ll start slowly with some soup and fruit. What do you say?”
Carol nodded mutely, determined to take what she could get for now, especially if that was food. The alien left and returned shortly with a steaming bowl of broth and a plate containing pieces of apples, bananas, various berries, gespar and grapes, both Terran and Rigellian. Renhol placed them on Carol’s bedside table and gestured that she should help herself. Carol did, starting with the soup, which was chicken, and tasted heavenly in her watering mouth.
“I will be keeping you in the sick bay for a few days to monitor your progress,” the doctor spoke again.
Carol said nothing, busy practically inhaling her food. She had forgotten when it had been the last time she had had a warm meal.
“You are not very talkative, are you? I know it’s difficult, but you might want to eat slower. You can have more later, but for now we’ll have to be careful not to make yourself sick.”
There was a pause during which the Trill studied her with a concerned gaze. “Nobody is going to hurt you again in this manner on the Vengeance,” she said confidently.
Carol ignored her, grabbing for a banana. Renhol either flat-out lied or was delusional.
# # #

Khan came for her three days later. Carol was in a way relieved, no longer cooped up in the medbay with the doctor, who was probably mad, since she conducted no dissections on animals or tested drugs and torture instruments. Nobody else came there, either, which was no surprise on a ship probably full of augments. Renhol spoke a lot, mostly about Carol’s poor health and the virtues of good nutrition but fed her regularly and even gave her sedatives to help her sleep better so she saw no reason to complain. The alien also insisted Carol wore clothes and replicated plain, white Trill dresses for her.
Carol would miss the steady supply of food and the strange lack of pain, but at least, she wouldn’t have to spend her every waking minute on edge or waiting for the ax to fall. Khan had strolled in at a self-assured pace and walked straight up to Renhol. They had talked for a short while in hushed tones and then his gaze, dark despite the iridescent blue of his eyes, flickered to Carol and he inclined his head in her direction, summoning her without a word. Carol scrambled off the biobed and rushed to him. The Trill called after her, telling her she was supposed to come down for a check-up in a day or two. Carol barely nodded in her direction, fairly sure she would not be allowed to keep the appointment.
Khan led her through corridors bathed in the same bluish light halo from the infirmary and if Carol cared to guess, she would say they were aboard one of the Dreadnought ships. She had no idea where they were and what they were doing there, but she doubted she would ever need to know the answer to those questions. They took a turbo lift five decks down, from where Khan proceeded down yet another hallway, where he stopped to key a few commands on a panel, opening a door as he did to what were presumably his living quarters.
“Lights 100%,” he commanded.
The area was spartan and rather cramped for what she had expected of a major political leader from the 20th century, but it was functional and furnished with all the necessities: a bed right below a tiny window to the stars outside, a desk with a monitor and a pad, two chairs, dresser, built-in replicator fixed in the wall and a second door no doubt permeating access to an en-suite bathroom. Carol wasted no time in pulling her dress over her head.
“Stop,” he snapped, his voice vibrantly resonant in the cramped space they were in.
Carol dropped to her knees without thought, the impact resounding in her bones, as her heart leaped in her throat. She would be punished for whatever she had unwittingly done wrong.
“Get up,” he ordered again. “This is not why I bought you. I need a physicists and weapons expert, not a whore.”
His words took her off guard and she lifted her gaze hesitantly. He stood no farther than a foot from her. Her eyes traveled over black boots, straight black trousers and a plain gray sweater. It was more clothing and less revealing than Starfleet officers usually wore. His face was hard to read and looked as though sculptured from marble. His chin was put up, pride and confidence radiating from his ramrod straight posture and his penetrative gaze.
“Renhol says you will need a few more days to rest and that you should continue to eat slowly and often,” he added. “If you want to use the bathroom, I suggest you knock. You are sharing it with Kati.”
Carol looked around, bewildered, but whatever questions she might have went unanswered, because he pivoted on a heel and left.

The day was beyond long, one of those days that you wish there was an off switch. But I was finally able to lay down in bed eyes closing to help ward off the exhaustion that was hovering all over my body and mind. That was when I felt the soft touch of elegant fingers, those that could play a piano glide first over my hip, then along my waist and slowly moving over the expanse of exposed skin offered. Slowly I opened my eyes but didn’t shift or move in anyway except for the soft fluttered of excitement that rippled over me. Then I feel those long fingers gently cup my chin…drawing my head to face him those beautiful pools of eyes that somedays could be blue and others green before lips met and a lanquid loving embrace was made. He fit his long lean form against my back making sure all of the right places touched. Finally breathing was mandatory on both ends but a smile was firmly in place upon my lips.

“Well Hello there.”

A smile was returned, his was always like the clouds parting and allowing the sun through, “Hello love. I know you’re tired…”

“Yes but that…has woken me up I dare say.”

Another playful grin flitted across his lips, “In what way?”

“In every way and you know it you cheeky boy.”

“Perhaps I do. Why don’t you just lay back and allow me to ease the exhaustion from your body.”

I couldn’t think of one reason why not to allow it and those hands and that body were ever so skilled at doing anything at all and everything. So I settled my head back upon the pillow and closed my eyes for a moment. No sooner had my eyelashes hit upon my cheek then I felt those slender elegant fingers exploring again. This time they moved to carefully remove what was left on of my clothing, a bra I had been too tired to reach back and undo it. In barely a whisper now however it was gone on barely a whisper and those fingers, warm and soft flickered over the sensitive flesh of my breasts. Lingering like a teasing breeze over my nipples, it took but a second for them to harden into perfect pebbles and I could almost see the smile even while I didn’t look.

I gave up a soft murmur as I could even more acutely feel the soft silk of his shirt against my bare back and there was no doubt the feel of his arousal pressed against my rear. Those elegant hands continued their journey down now from my bare breasts to flicker over the gentle roundness of my stomach. Meanwhile he bent forward pressing a kiss to the top of my head first before shifting to nuzzle down into my neck…kissing…then gently nipping with a wicked little chuckle into my ear…

Todays picture

His body wouldn’t stop burning. He could practically see the flames emerging around him. It was so hot… It wouldn’t end.
Martha told him it had been a fever and nothing more. She’d said he needed some sleep.
Hah.
The Doctor bristled with anger as he tossed and turned in his bed. Sleep. He hasn’t slept in years. He probably didn’t even know how to do it anymore.
But he couldn’t have convinced Martha.
“Try” she’d said. “Just try.”
And so his lids became heavier…
Close your legs.
That’s what he’d always said.
“Close your legs and don’t let anything come between them.”
My father’s words.
Sometimes he used to alternate between “anything” and “anyone”.
But back then I didn’t care. Back then I didn’t even know what he meant.
I was a child. I can’t remember when it started or why it started.
Of course, if I look at the past like I do know…
But back then I didn’t know why he always said that. I just didn’t understand it.
It sounded stupid. It was just stupid to say something like “Shut your legs” to a child. I would have expected something like “Shut your mouth!” or “Keep quiet!” or even “Behave!”
But no.
Always: Close your legs.
Tie them together at night.
Never put your legs up in the air.
Don’t spread your legs for anyone.
And don’t let anybody come near you.

His words. Every time I played with others. Every time I stayed out. Every time I met friends.
Close your legs.
Gosh, he was horrible!
Now I know of course that he had tried to protect me. He’d wanted me to be safe. To be protected, always. He never wanted me to suffer; he’d wanted to shield me from the bad things of the world.
From him.
My father tried to protect me with every means, stupid as they were.
But in the end it was of no use.
He got me nonetheless.
He.
Koschei.
He’d always been there. He’d always been around. He’d played with me when I was a kid. He’d comforted me when I was growing up.
Always Koschei. Always by my side.
My father must have known what awaited me. He must have seen the future with his own eyes.
One day he just started to stare at me, stony faced, like if something had changed, if I had changed, if something wasn’t right.
I was still a child back then, I was twelve, I reckon, or fourteen, at the most.
Still a child. An innocent child…
My father had seen it. He knew what awaited me within a few years.
He must have seen the negative impact Koschei would have on my future. And he tried to change the prophecy. He tried to thwart the inevitable.
And of course he failed.
Decades later he would tell me what he had seen, back then. And he felt guilty.
He always thought he should have tried harder. But you can’t evade the inevitable destiny.
And he had to learn that.
In the meantime I kept running. Always running. From everything.
But the only thing I should have run from was Koschei.
And I didn’t.
Mistakes.
That’s what life is all about. It’s about taking wrong turns, making wrong decisions, and ending up in a deadlock where you’re unable to move. Either forwards or backwards. Simply everything’s a mistake.
And I must know.
I’ve been a mistake myself. At least it’s what my mother always used to say.
I was a mistake.
And she was probably right about that.
I ought to have known better. I never should have tried it. I never should have started it.
I should have stayed away from Koschei, just like my father had told me. But life was full of choices and you ought to make the wrong decisions.
I was a mistake and I couldn’t do anything except making mistakes myself.
But it was so hard to run with closed legs…
Gallifrey had been beautiful back then. Or it was only in my memory. But in my memory it was beautiful. Perhaps the best place for a child to be raised. Calm. Quiet. Well situated. And peaceful.
So peaceful.
Well, that was before the war. But at the time it was still far away. Decades…or even centuries.
I lost track of time, I suppose. And I can’t even remember how it all started.
Was it when I stayed with my friends up all night on a hill just to watch comets fly past and dead stars burning out? Or was it when Koschei and I lay on the red grass, observing the golden clouds in the sky getting torn apart by heavy storms and he told me that it should stay like this forever?
No, that wasn’t what he said. He’d said: We should stay like this forever. And I didn’t even know what he meant by that. But it made me smile nonetheless.
Anyway, I can’t remember. Must have been one of these days.
That’s when it started. In one of these nights he said it for the first time.
“Close your legs. And never open them again.” And I was too young, too irritated and too scared just to ask him what he meant by that. I simply nodded, back then. And he figured that I understood.
But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to swear to him.
And a week later or so he did it the first time: he tied my legs together.
He simply came in with a rope, grabbed my blanket off of me, wrapped the rope around my ankles and fastened it with knots. Then he left my room without saying a word.
At first I was shocked. Then I was scared.
And last but not least I refused to accept it.
But my father wouldn’t tolerate contradiction.
And as soon as I started untying my feet after he’d left my room, he tied up my hands as well.
And if I dared to protest he’d tie my hands to my back. But he wouldn’t give in.
And he wouldn’t explain it to me.
He thought it best to give me the time I needed; he thought I would, in due course, become accustomed to it.
But that didn’t stop me from offering resistance.
And maybe it was wrong of my father to get angry at me. And I guess he shouldn’t have hit me or even beaten me up during some of the nights, when I resisted against getting tied up, either.
But the worst I could have done was to admit defeat and simply accept that I’d have to tie my legs together night after night.
And that’s what I did.
I obeyed and I never would have opposed.
If it hadn’t been for Koschei…

“Goddamn, have you lost your bloody mind?” Jim yelled. “I certainly will not…”

Khan didn’t let him finish. Within a second he was on his feet and dragged the captain with him. Instantly Kirk yanked up his knee to hit him there where it hurt the most, but the super-human was too quick and avoided Kirk’s defense. “Tsk-tsk, Captain, that I’m calling bad form,” he taunted with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, then he lifted his captive and tossed him simply over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Jim thrashed around, kicked, placed some really hard blows to the super-human’s back – and received a slap on his butt like he was a disobedient child. “Fuck you!” he screamed.

“Language, Captain, unless you mean it literary,” Khan scoffed. “If so, I will consider your offer – after I had my turn, of course.”

Anger and fright started to prevail in Jim again. “Don’t you dare…!” Kirk’s outburst was stopped as he was hurled on his bed, landing between the blankets and the pillows with a huff. Before he could even start to sit up, Khan was again above him and – ignoring the punches Jim landed at every part of his body that was reachable – stripped out of his shirt.

The first rain pelted against the windows as outside the skies opened its floodgates and the thunder-storm broke finally loose; mirroring the turmoil Kirk was going through as he found himself in a situation that was suddenly far more complicated than it had been before. In the light of the flashes Khan’s slender, sinewy torso shined like alabaster; the muscles of his arms flexed as he caught Jim’s wrists again and tied them with the sleeves of his shirt to the headboard, leaving the young man nearly helpless.

For several moments Kirk couldn’t conceive what was happening to him. Here he was, tied to his own bed with his most deadly and – God alone knew why – very horny nemesis upon him, who didn’t waste any time to claim his prey. The breath was caught in Jim’s throat as Khan’s long, warm hands spread against his chest and started to roam over his upper body; exploratory, daringly firm but also almost softly. And, to his utter horror, heat was crawling beneath his skin wherever the Augment touched him; leaving tingling tracks which found their way to the pit of his stomach. A further gasp escaped his lips as the super-human grinded his groin against his’, eliciting a wave of unwelcomed yearning in the depths of his body.

That was wrong!

That was so completely and entirely wrong!

“Stop it!” he groaned; pleading all higher beings of the whole universe to save him – to save him from the up-flaring, crazy desire for his mortal enemy that lurked in the edges of his conscious.

“I have not even begun – not really,” the former dictator murmured, encircling Jim’s nipples with skilled thumps; worming out a low moan from his captive. He saw the fright in the ever-so blue eyes of the young Starfleet-officer, but he guessed that it was the fear of the own reactions. Kirk was already hard and the widened pupils and the soft tremors gave him away, too. The captain’s mind could fight all it wanted, but his body spoke another language.

Jim gulped as he registered the lustfully gleam in the Augment’s gaze and moistened his lips; a gesture that really tested Khan’s control. “I thought you wanted to kill me,” Kirk whispered, asking himself how it was even possible that their deadly fight had changed into an erotic battle.

A slow, predatory smile curved the luscious lips of the man, who was about to ravish him. “And this I will do!” the super-human replied quietly; his voice lowered to a sinful deep purr. He bent down and Jim gasped anew, as their now both bare chests were finally touching – warm, tensed and delicious forbidden. Bracing his weight of one forearm beside Jim’s head the Augments fingers glided into the blond strains; no longer brutal but almost gently. “I will kill you, Captain, over and over again!” Khan stated, brushing his mouth over that of the younger man, while the fingers of his free hand cupped his hip. “Tell me, James Kirk, are you familiar with the French phrase ‘petite mort’?”

Chapter 2

Professor Doctor Matthew Dashwood switched off his PADD, shut down his computer-terminal and rose. Slipping of his white lab-coat with the golden Starfleet-emblem he threw it over his desk-chair and left his office. It was quiet in this special part of the ‘Starfleet-Laboratory for Science and Healing’ – shortened LSH – that was built underground in the southern part of Nevada’s desert, not far away from the long ago abandoned place that was known as ‘area 51’ back in the 20th century.

The lab was specialized on researches for cures and serums of the most dangerous maladies that could be found in the Federation of the United Planets, and therefore it had been separated from the main research-center in the Starfleet-Headquarter. The next town – what happened to be Las Vegas – was more than 80 miles away and the transporter-room at the ground-level was only allowed to be used for the emergencies; otherwise the staff had to travel by cyber-vessels.

The highest operational standards were essential for survive – not only for the employees but also fort the whole planet. If anything went wrong and only one causative organism would come in contact with the outer world the consequences could be disastrous.

So it was no miracle that the security-arrangements were the highest within Starfleet on Earth and even Dashwood, being the head of this facility, needed more than ten minutes to reach his own office or the actual laboratories every time he re-entered the laboratory.

Walking down the corridors and passing another sally port, Matthews dark eyes found the security guard that was deployed before the door that led to the most important section of this facility in the moment. Greeting the professor he stood at attention and watched the scientist enter the lab, only then he relaxed.

Dashwood looked around. “Ryan?” he called but couldn’t find his assistant Ryan Brown at his workplace. Frowning, his glance wandered to the barrier, made of a special transparent strong glass that was additional secured by an electric field, and stared at the lonely cryotube that stood in the small cubicle and held prisoner 3158-17-215.

Everything seemed to be normal. The sally port to the room was closed and the code-lock showed a green light, meaning that everything was in order. But still… something wasn’t right. That had nothing to do with the fact that his assistant had left his station – everyone had to use the restrooms from time to time – but with a growing nagging feeling deep in the professors conscious.

Stepping to the sally port he entered the code, placed his hand on the fingerprint-sensor, let another sensor check his retina and unlocked the door by giving a password for what a voice-detector analyzed and had to identify him, before the port opened.

Carefully Dashwood entered the cubicle and neared the cryotube. Confused, he only recognized now that the transparent port was frozen; proving that the cryogenic process had been driven up to its full capacity.

“What the heck…?” the scientist whispered. Prisoner 3158-17-215 should not be in full cyrosleep; he was needed unfrozen, but his vitals at the lowest level possible to hold him in a kind of pseudo-coma. Which idiot had put the proband back into full stasis? You couldn’t freeze and unfreezing a person over and over again. At some point the body wouldn’t cooperate with the difficult procedure any longer – even, if said body had been genetically engineered to resist more than any other human on Earth could. Unimaginable, if all the work of the last four months would be for naught because the valuable subject wouldn’t survive another wakening.

With a scowl on his face Dashwood closed the distance and looked down on the occupant whose face was to see through the observation window – and backed away with a yelp. The man he just saw was not prisoner 3158-17-215, but Ryan Brown! His assistant was laying in this cryotube and not the certainly most dangerous man of the planet – if not of the whole Federation!

With a frantic beating heart Dashwood left the room; not bothering with closing the sally port. He ran through the lab, tore the door open and screamed to the guard: “RED ALERT! The prisoner has escaped!”

The security-officer stared at him unbelievingly. “Professor, that’s impossible! I haven’t left my guard for one minute after I took the shift and…”

“He. Is. Gone!” Dashwood’s voice became shrill and it was enough to set the guard into action. He stormed away to hit the emergency-button, drawing his phaser. A second later the sirens started to blare; the lights in the corridors changed from a comfortable pearl-white to an alarming red.

Another door across the corridor opened and an Andorian looked at him; his dark eyes large in the blue face. “Matthew, what happened?” he asked in the typical smooth-gentle voice of his race, while his antennas curved towards his human colleague.

“The worst thing possible!” the professor answered; his round face pale like a table-cloth. “The prisoner is on the run!” He raced down the corridor, the Andorian at his heels.

“How did he manage that?” the alien asked concerned. “He was comatose, securely locked away!”

Dashwood shook his head. “I have no clue, Shran. Ryan lies now in the cryotube and…” He stopped as the commanding officer of the security approached and hastily the professor gave a short report of the situation. The commander cursed as he learned of the reason for all the tumult, pulled out his communicator and gave instructions, before he turned towards the scientists again. “Is he conterminous?” As the two scientists shook their heads, the office sighed in relief, then he growled: “Don’t worry, gentlemen. He can’t be far away.”

“And of all I know he could have escaped hours ago,” Dashwood interrupted him. “Ryan wanted to do another series of tests and started to work on it at the early evening – before the beta-shift was done for today and left for the weekend. Eventually the prisoner used this to mix with the employees and has already left the…”

The officer frowned. “He has been heavy drugged for more than four months. He must be weak and therefore…”

A hole laughter erupted form Dashwood’s throat. “The prisoner may be weak but he regenerates several times quicker than even a Vulcan could do. He maybe has back his full strengths right now!”

The security-commander took a deep breath and nodded. “Then we should check every corner, every hoist-way and every supply-duct of the facility as well as the transporter, before we contact Starfleet Command.” He set his phaser to ‘kill’.

Dashwood gasped as he saw it. “Are you crazy? We cannot kill him – not before the tests are done and the results…”

“Your lab-rat is a goddamn super-human that kills without a thought and is immune to any stun-blaze you shoot at him,” the head of the security-department interrupted him impatiently. “If it comes down to his or my survival you can be damn sure which alternative I choose!”

“Commander, listen…”

The officer fixed him with a hard look. “This is out of your responsibility now, Professor. The prisoner has to be re-captured or killed – otherwise you can report to Starfleet Command that the space-terrorist Khan is not at the security-facility at Gama 12 like the other freaks, but escaped your ward and roams now free the planet; certainly seeking revenge on those who brought him to his downfall!”

ST***ST***ST

The security-commander was right. Said Augment was burning to get revenge, but his desire for vengeance had taken another way than original planned. And no-one was more surprised of it than the two men in the skyscraper in San Francisco in the apartment of the 48th floor.

Jim stared with wide eyes into the small, striking face above him.

Petite mort – little death…

Of course he knew what that phrase meant. “No…,” he whispered; comprehending what his captor was telling him. “No, you will not…”

“I certainly will!” Khan interrupted him and nipped for a moment at his yaw; letting his hand slide from his captive’s hip upwards along his side; his nails scratching madding softly over the smooth skin. “I certainly will take you in any way possible.” His mouth traveled to the sensible spot beneath Jim’s ear. “I will make you scream, Kirk!” He growled before he sucked not too gently at the smooth skin of the younger man’s neck. “You will scream until you’re hoarse – not in pain, but in pleasure.” His fingers traveled down again, found the waistband of Jim’s sweatpants and ghosted just above them in an alarming soothingly manner.

This was the moment Kirk really became scared – very, very scared. It was simply too much! There mere thought that Kahn was going to touch him in the most intimate way woke an unknown angst in him that broke out of him in a burst of new resistance.

“Take your hands off me!” he shouted, bucked up and tried to roll away; ignoring that his arms started to protest because of the angle they were forced into – after all they were bound to the headboard.

A strong but also soft hand on his belly stopped his attempt, while one long leg slipped over his calves again; making him immobile before he could turn fully around.

“Drop this nonsense, Kirk!” Khan’s voice was still quiet, what was even more eerie. “There is no escape for you, no way to deny me what I want – what you are wanting, too, even if you so eager to renounce the pleasure you will experience.”

“I. Don’t. Want. This!” Jim gritted out; his face red with the most different emotions he ever had and which raced through his entire being: Loath, fear, hate – and unwelcome desire…

“Liar!” Khan’s deep chuckle was a promise what would happen in the next hours; a promise that was sealed with another searing, deep, hard kiss that heralded Jim’s fate.

If it would have been someone else than Khan, Kirk certainly had savored the lust that had started to take hold of his senses, as the Augment plundered his mouth with the force of a storm similar to the raging winds outside the apartment. He was no one who denied himself a night of passionate bed-activities, but that here was his nemesis, for heaven’s sake; the man who had come to kill him! It really was completely nuts to get hot because his soon-to-be-murderer was kissing the day out of him.

As these long, experienced fingers glided in his sweatpants, the young captain panicked. His mortal enemy was about to touch his most valuable parts and his survival-instincts kicked in once more. Turning his head away from those smoldering lips he panted: “NO! No, Khan, NO!” He tried to wrest away; his breath hitched in his throat while his heart-beat started to gallop even more, driven by another burst of adrenalin. No, he couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t allow his captor this kind of assault. He was going to be harmed in the most painful way – or he would be completely undone; two options he was unable to accept.

The elegant hand stilled; Khan’s soft lips brushing Jim’s cheek while he whispered: “Calm down, Kirk, I am not going to hurt you – not now and not like this!” His words fell on deaf ears and he realized that the younger man was beginning to hyperventilate. James Kirk was anything but a coward. The Augment had witnessed the sometimes almost foolish courage that drove the captain, but this particular situation seemed to push the Starfleet-officer to his limits.

Sliding his free am around the slim waist of his captive, he did the first thing that came to his mind to end the raising panic Kirk was undergoing. He simply waited while he tightened his hold on Jim; knowing that the other man would calm down as soon as the main danger seemed to have stopped.

Eventually Khan’s idea proved to be successful. A part of Jim’s mind was aware of the fact that his panic wouldn’t help him and that it did more harm than good, and as the time went by and his captor did nothing more than holding him, he started to quiet down.

The super-human felt Kirk’s breath returning to a less dangerous level, cocked his head and observed his him. The sky-blue eyes were wide as saucers and almost black with fear, yet his chin was stubbornly set and the reddened swollen lips were pressed into a line. Ah, still fighting! Good!

“Calmed down at last?” he asked; carefully not to taunt Kirk too much or there was the chance the younger man would relapse.

A moment later he learned that James T. Kirk was stronger than that. “I know I can’t escape you or what you have in stock for me.” His voice was flat, but also full of defiance. “Come on, Khan, do your worst. Go ahead. Rape me. I am aware that I can’t stop y…”

“I will not rape you, Kirk!” The enhanced human’s features were, all of sudden, very serious and indignant. “I’ve done many things others would call a crime, but I’ve never – and will never! – rape someone. This is a taboo I will not break. Even I have my limits – and I will not lower myself on the level of…” He stopped and took a deep breath; his eyes flashed for another moment with an inner fire that seemed to burn straight into Jim’s soul, then his control slipped back in place – as far as it was possible in his strong aroused state.

Kirk shuddered, but not in angst only. To hear that the Augment had still some moral limits left was almost a relief for him; nevertheless as Khan started to caress his side and chest again, Jim gulped. “You said, you wouldn’t…” His words died as his mouth was once again re-captured in a short, hot kiss, before his foe murmured:

“I will not rape you – but I certainly will ravish you. And you are going to want it.” His hand moved downwards one more time, and another gasp was eliciting from the young captain, as the clever fingers found their way under the waistband. To Jim’s dismay the manliest part of his body started to pulse with anticipation, while his loins tensed in an all too familiar yearning way.

He had the urge to yell at the super-human; to shout to let him the hell alone and that Khan never could make him wanting this, but the Augment’s mouth was again on his’ and therefore he could only made a protesting sound – a sound that changed into a throaty mewl, as the hand of his nemesis started to stroke every area around his still painful hardened shaft without touching it.

Khan felt the growing tension in the muscular young body beneath him, the sharper breathes Kirk drew in and released the swollen lips of his adversary. For a moment he locked eyes with him, then he nibbled and licked his way down Jim’s throat; grinning as the blood beneath the silken skin pulsed even quicker. Oh, he would have Kirk panting and writhing in passion within the next minutes!

“S-s-s-stop it!” Jim wheezed; realizing horrified that his fear was fading into a new fire that flowed through his veins and made him melting into the seductive touches.

“You don’t want me to,” Khan growled into his skin, pressing hot open-mouth kisses over the toned chest beneath him, savored the taste of salt and something that was uniquely Kirk. Not giving his captive a moment to comprehend what he was targeting for, he reached his first goal and started the next carnal attack.

Kirk squeezed his eyes shut and moaned, as the gentle lips of his opponent brushed over his right nipple the same moment the hand in his pants closed around his already throbbing shaft. The next flash outside shimmered through his closed lids the same instant another bolt of erotically heat shot through his whole body; intensified as Khan began to stroke his most sensible part.

God dammit! The bastard knew exactly what he had to do to break down every resolve without using violence. Jim gritted his teeth as sensation of sensation racked through his being; flashing back and forth between the sucking and biting on his chest and the obviously experienced hand around his shaft that made him dizzy with desire. Khan’s warm breath whispered over his already oversensitive skin, the soft pressure of the Augment’s body on his’ made Jim realizing the bruises from the early brutal blows, but the uncomfortable feeling was fading away as more pleasure seized him. All higher beings of the universe may show him mercy! Kirk simply knew that he was losing this fight; that he would give in and would let Khan his way with him – that in the end he would indeed wanting this.

The Augment was concentrated on the object of his needs and listened to every sound, took in every flinch that became more and more frantically with each stroke he gently inflicted on his captive. He heard the gasps, felt the growing tension in the other man’s body, saw the beginning rapture on the boyish features and attended to the left nipple of his bedfellow. He was determined to throw him over the edge; to make him wreathe in ecstasy before he would claim him fully – not to grant his adversary some pleasure when he deserved only the worst, but to demonstrate his domination.

The last resolve was wearing off, as Jim felt an all too familiar heat tightening in his belly and how it was unfurling slowly but unstoppably. He was panting now, battling a battle he couldn’t win anymore, as his body betrayed him – not like it did after he entered the warp core chamber, but in the beginning ecstasy that was whirling through his whole being.

And then it stopped.

Just before the incredible tension could explode into the announcing relief Khan moved away from him; leaving him tremble in desperate necessity to be finished off. Acting on pure instincts Jim lifted his head and glanced at his captor. “Don’t you dare to let me down now!” he gasped, inwardly cringing how needy his voice sounded. God, where was the well-trained Starfleet-captain when he was needed the most?

“Already begging, Kirk?” Khan mocked, but the hoarse undertone revealed his own state. The way the younger man responded to his purposeful caresses, the proximity, the delightful sight of his stubborn adversary losing control like this – it all increased the Augment’s already burning lust to a new level.

Kneeling beside the Starfleet-officer he pulled Kirk’s sweatpants down with one smooth movement, eliciting a mixture of protest and relief from his captive, while he hurled the garment away. The predatory smile returned to his features as he could finally see what he already felt before: James Kirk was very well-built – in every way!

Without hesitation he straddled his foe again, encircled the hips with long, strong hands and let them roam once more over the soft sweaty torso; never taking his eyes of Kirk’s flushed face. He relished in the power he already held over him; knowing very well that the captain had to play along, otherwise the condition, he was in, would be become unbearable.

“Do you want me to continue?” The taunting wasn’t unnoticed by Jim and he would have loved to punch the smug expression off his tormentors face, but his hands were – literary – bound and there was also a certain more urgent matter that was in terrible need to be taken care of. He really wished he could yell at this infuriating bastard, who was doing this to him, but that would only worsen his situation. If he liked it or not, but tied as he was a really needed Khan to ‘help him out’

“Jesus Christ, just end what you’ve started,” he growled; cursing his demanding body for its weakness.

“Has your mother not taught you how to ask nicely?” the super-human threw Kirk’s words from earlier back at him. He grinded his still clad groin into the painful hard erection of his nemesis, smirking as the younger man arched against him. “Well?” he pressed, while one of his fingers wandered delicious slowly over his captive’s most vulnerable part that shimmered in an angry, demanding red.

Jim yelped as the soft touch drove him one time more close to the edge, but denied him what he craved by now. Pride, defiance and obstinacy could go to hell – if he couldn’t come soon he would lose his mind. His heartbeat was already incredible quick, his soul was in turmoil, his body screamed for release. “Do it!” he whispered; adding a bitter tasting “Please!” to it.

Ah, there it was: the first sweet victory. What could be more satisfying than making his arrogant, headstrong, outrageous young opponent to want him – him, his nemesis? And this was only the beginning. Khan was determined to force his captive to desire him!

A loud moan was torn from Jim’s throat as he was once again caught in a gentle, but also firm grip, as Khan continued his erotically attacks. Kirk didn’t care that he admitted surrender as he took anything he could get from his carnal tormentor, and was finally driven towards pure rapture; heightened by the subconsciously knowledge of the danger he was still in. He groaned as Khan’s mouth were back on his neck; sucking, licking, biting, leaving a mark that would last for days – and the burning knot in Jim’s belly unlashed in an inferno of all consuming ecstasy that washed over him like a tidal wave of pure lava. His outcry was devoured by the Augment’s hot lips which closed over his’, while the long, warm fingers were milking him until there was nothing left to spend.

At last boneless and glowing in the aftermath, Jim tried to catch his breath, as he laid there; eyes closed, unable to move. Tremors were rippling under his skin; the sheer force of the strong orgasm had numbed his mind into a short state of heavenly oblivion, while every nerve was tingling. Sweet Lord, this had been one of the most intense sexual experiences he ever underwent and this because of the hands of his sworn enemy!

That was not bad, that was insane!

But he didn’t mind. Not in this moment, when reality seemed to be far away.

Khan rose and looked down at his rather unwilling bedfellow, who looked utterly undone in not a bad way. There was still a hint of bliss on Kirk’s soft-manly features, his face and chest were flushed and a sheet of dampness covered his body; mingled with the body-fluid that had been erupted from the younger man’s loins – a marvelous sight.

The Augment had known that his adversary was full of passion, but the fervor, Kirk displayed as he was overwhelmed by his ecstasy, was promising so much more! And he would have this – would have him! Now! Khan had always been proud of his control, but it was fading away in the pure greed that didn’t allow any further delays. His trousers were painful tight as he unbuckled his belt.

Jim tried to regain some of his senses and above all a sane thought, as his mind started to work again. Yes, he just had been seduced into sexual submission, but – what was certainly more important – he was still alive. Yet that didn’t mean that his captor was going to spare him.

Rather the opposite.

Kirk had a certain feeling in his gut that this all wasn’t over; after all Khan had even stated that this was ‘only the beginning’. The soft sound of something being put down on his nightstand alert him and brought his attention back to reality at the moment, as a towel wiped the milky tracks of his orgasm away. Tiredly he opened his eyes and glanced straight into Khan’s face that hovered above him, and as he saw the burning desire in those sea-green-blue pools, Jim gulped. Yeah, he had been right. This was far from being over!

He turned his head to see what the Augment had placed on the nightstand – and his eyes widened as he recognized a bottle of sunflower oil; the same sunflower oil he used to fry steaks. And the reason, why the super-human had collected it from the kitchen, was pretty clear – and it made Jim shiver. Even if he hadn’t been intimate with a man before, he knew how the whole thing between two males worked, and it send a new bolt of dread through him; the fear of the foreign, laced with random knowledge.

“Don’t fret! I already told you that I will not rape you – not like you understand it,” Khan’s deep voice said calmly. “You will be prepared.”

Jim looked back at him again and became stock still. Only now he recognized that the genetically engineered man had taken off the rest of his clothes; his pale skin glistened in the semi-darkness and the flashes the raging thunder storm outside released. Tall, shimmering like marble, slender like a cat with slim hips and long muscular legs, and with an unholy fire in his piercing gaze Khan Noonien Singh stood there; the proof of his raging desire – perfect in shape like the rest of his body – pointed hard and strong to the skies.

This was the moment Kirk was gripped with new fear – one that differed strongly from the fright he endured, as Khan had been about to beat him to death. It was mixed with something else; with a wisp of anticipation that seemed to come out of nowhere, settled down in his abdomen and whispered through his soul.

His mouth went dry as the Augment tossed the towel carelessly aside and knelt down at the mattress. Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat Jim somehow managed to whisper a “Don’t…,” before Khan slipped over him again.

“You know that I will not stop,” the former dictator stated. “What just happened was only the appetizer.” His hands slid beneath Kirk’s back, while his lean body covered that of the younger man completely. A groan was on the tip of tongue as their groins came in contact, finally sans clothes.

Jim shuddered – but not out of revulsion, as it should have been. No. Wherever Khan touched him his skin seemed to be on fire and as the super-human’s lips found his’ again, he felt himself accepting the challenge of the clever tongue that conquered his mouth.

It did him no good, for the Augment deepened the kiss instantly, what set Kirk’s nerve ablaze and let the tightness returning to his loins.

‘Now it’s officially, Jim: You’ve lost your mind. To be eager for the touch of your mortal enemy isn’t really the smartest thing you ever did. You should let check Bones your head – if you ever will survive this!’ he thought, then his mind shut off, as his captor’s sensual assaults became more aggressive, but without hurting him. The caresses flooded his senses with incredible delight, the feeling of the Augment’s carnal heat at his groin was a delicious threat; the mortal threat that lurked beneath this erotic torment was like ambrosia and made him helpless with lust.

‘Better at everything…’

Khan’s words during one of their talks aboard the Enterprise a year ago was ghosting through Jim’s memories, then the reality started to melt away, as the irresistible seduction began to unfold new success…

Dashwood watched Doctor Sino Lai-Heng, as he checked the vital-signals of Ryan Brown, who laid in the cryotube; stilled in his frozen sleep. It was silent in the laboratory and the attached security-room in contrast to the haste in the rest of the Nevada-department of LSH. Outside of this small oasis the security personnel had spread through the whole area, checked every room, every corner – every place prisoner 3158-17-215 could be and regarding the man’s abilities the guards were on high alert. But Matthew Dashwood had a certain feeling that they wouldn’t find the subject anymore. Ryan had to be for hours now in cryosleep, what implied that the prisoner was free for the same range of time.

“His heartbeat and body-functions have been reduced to the lowest level possible,” the Chinese xeno-biologist broke into his colleague’s thoughts and took a deep breath. “As far as I can see he had been chocked and knocked down afterwards.” He pointed to a barely seeable shadow around the scientist’s throat and then to a small bump at his temple. “I dare to say he can be lucky to be still alive. As far as I learned the prisoner isn’t known for showing any kind of mercy and kills without hesitation. Why he spared Ryan is a miracle.”

“I think it was the easiest way to hide his tracks,” Matthew mused. “Think, as soon the cryotube is open for more than half an hour and not at work, the alert is activated. He knew this and needed more time to escape, so he needed a living body to place it into the…”

“You think he knew how we secured his cryotube and how to avoid an alert?” Lai-Heng blinked. “How so? He was revived after we did the changes to the cryotube and he was placed in artificial coma the most times. The few days he was only put under sedative could be counted on one hand, and…

“And still he managed to trick us all and escaped!” Dashwood interrupted him, turning abruptly away. He knew that Ryan Brown couldn’t be brought back from the cryosleep so soon after he had been frozen. There should be at last several days to give his body the possibility to adjust to the dead-like sleep until they could make a try to wake him up again. Only then the riddle, how prisoner 3158-17-215 was able to break free could be solved – that meant, if he wouldn’t be re-captured before.

And Dashwood really hoped that the Augment would be caught soon, otherwise he would have to face the unpleasant duty to inform Starfleet Command – and the new supreme commander who was now in charge for five months: Admiral Richard Barnett, former head of the Starfleet-Academy. And the admiral didn’t know that the research of the LSH’s department in Nevada involved the blood samples of a certain genetically engineered criminal from the 20th century, who should be locked away at Gamma 12.

Nothing in the world had ever prepared Jim Kirk to experience such painful pleasure like he did now. Even if his captor had kept his word and had readied him until he was close to the edge of losing sanity, it hurt like hell as Khan finally claimed him. The soft burning at the beginning, as the Augment used his fingers to prepare him, had changed into a strange but nevertheless good sensation – until the super-human made the last step. Yes, Khan applied the sunflower oil that replaced the non-existing fluid concerning this part of a male body – otherwise the whole procedure would have been agony – but Jim wasn’t used to this kind of sexual activities and his body fought the strange intruder.

“Relax, Kirk!” The Augment’s voice was a gentle whisper at Jim’s ear, while he braced himself on his forearms beside the younger man’s head and wrists, which were still tied to the headboard. “Relax, don’t fight! It will be easier!”

Why his nemesis even cared was beyond Jim – after all Khan had shown up on his doorstep only to murder him! – but there was something in that deep baritone that made him listening. Blinking away the tears in his eyes and pressing his lips into a thin line, Kirk decided to do as he had been told. There was nothing in the world that would detain the Augment from satisfying his own urges now and if Jim didn’t want to suffer too much he had to leave the lead to Khan.

Taking a shuddering breath he forced his body to calm down – to cooperate – and slowly the throbbing pain changed into an uncomfortable pressure he just would have to tolerate. Khan was more than well-built and even in his fuzzy state Jim felt a soft wisp of gratitude that the super-human gave him time to get used to the alien invasion.

From where Khan took the strength to be patient was almost beyond himself. Desire blazed in his veins; his primary instincts – increased by the genetically changes – screamed at him to fulfill his needs and to take heedlessly what he wanted… craved! But here he was, fighting for his control to give the younger man time to get adjust to the foreign penetration. It was true: He had never raped someone before and he wouldn’t start now, even if his bedfellow was his nemesis and a part of him demanded utterly revenge for the betrayal and the loss of his family the captain was responsible for. But this voice quieted down more and more and made room for another whisper that echoed through his mind: ‘He is mine!’

And that was all that counted as he felt himself engulfed in the incredible heat and tightness that was James Kirk. He squeezed his eyes shut as he relished in the ultimate closeness and the feeling of the other ones rapid heart-beat at his own. The short breaths of his captive, the husky scent in the room, the way their bodies fitted so well together as if they had been made for each other… It all brought the first sweat on his forehead, and the moment he felt that the tension was leaving the young officer, he started to move; unable to suppress his greed any longer.

Jim gasped as the pain returned – but not as strong as before. Gritting his teeth he was determined to endure the hurt that was inflicted on him in the most personal way possible. There wasn’t really anything else he could do and…

And the pain of the infiltration began to alter. As soon as his body became adjusted to the enormous size of the hard, cruel intruder a new sensation spread through him. It was still strange, but not so bad anymore. He even became aware of the friction his shaft was fondled with as it was captured between himself and Khan.

The hot breath of his tormentor washed over his face, before he was bestowed with another searing kiss, while the Augment turned his thrusts into a slightly different angle – and a blinding flash shot through Jim’s entire being. He didn’t know what Khan did – or what exactly he brushed deep inside him – but it re-awakened the forbidden passion. Within seconds the pain was completely forgotten or the fact that it was his arch-enemy who was ravishing him, as that certain spot was hit over and over again. Lust like he had never experienced before roared through him, flared beneath his skin, made it difficult to simply breathe. With each of Khan’s movements the fervor increased until he thought he would go mad.

And it was not enough! The feeling of the super-human’s weight on him, their battling mouths, the rapture of their connection – it wasn’t enough! Without his own doing he wound his legs around the slim waist of his captor and urged him forward; begging him mutely to take him deeper – and Khan didn’t mind to obey.

Even lost in passion the Augment’s brilliant brains didn’t stop working and analyzed the way the younger man responded to him. But the emotion of victory, he expected as soon as his nemesis would surrender completely, didn’t come. Instead of gloating in the fact that he had broken through the captain’s stubborn resolve, he only felt the sensation of being sheathed in an all too willingly body and of being wanted.

And Kirk wanted more; needed more! As if Khan had read Jim’s mind again, he speeded up; his lips found the over-sensitive spot at Kirk’s neck once more and he bit down like he already did before; educing an outcry from the other man.

White stars began to sparkle behind the young captain’s eyes. He arched towards his ravisher, struggled to regain some control over his overdriven senses, tried to match every thrust – and the desperate movements made the sleeves, which tied his wrists to the headboard, to come loose. Suddenly his right hand was free but instead of attacking Khan, he wrapped his arm around him, what took the Augment by surprise.

He could feel Khan’s inhuman strong muscles playing beneath the damp, hot skin; savored in the chance to let his fingers wander over the slim, hard back, while his captor moaned into his neck in delight.

A short jerk and Jim was able to move his left arm, too. His hands roamed over the human velvet that covered Khan’s body, found their way in the ebony silken strands of the Augment’s incredible soft hair and wandered again downwards; cupping the firm butt, clawing at it without hurting the man, who brought him bliss beyond comprehension.

Khan was lost. The moment Kirk embraced him and caressed him with eager hands everything else vanished into nothingness. For the first time that seemed to be an eternity he was really feeling! No calculation of advantages, no actions of manipulation, no pondering of eventually options motivated him. For once there was no higher plotting behind his doings, only the plain outliving of his very own needs which were granted with passionately responses. Burying his long fingers in the blond hair of his captive he gave in into his emotions; in a yearning he thought it would have been lost for him forever. There were only him and his younger defying adversary; locked in a fierce embrace and moving in the oldest dance of the world.

Jim’s sane thoughts had been shut down by the bolts of ecstasy, which were overpowering him. Khan was all over him, around him, in him! The Augment filled his senses, his mind, consumed him completely, until they seemed to become one person. Too far gone to do anything else Jim could only stammer or scream his ravisher’s name – and then the world exploded in the brightest light he ever saw.

His mind was blown away, the reality shattered in thousand pieces; let him fly over abysses and oceans of fire – and still the light pulled him higher and higher. And the only hold was the man, who forced him into this rapture – and to whom he clung like a lifeline. From far away he heart the shout of the hoarse, throaty baritone and then his body was filled with the seeds of his dangerous lover, who followed him into that place, where all laws of nature lose their meaning…

ST***ST***ST

“He isn’t in LSH anymore!” The commander of the security had a grim look on his face, while he gave his report to a pale Matthew Dashwood. Still the alert was on, but except for the red light over the door and the gentle peep of the instruments it was quiet in the laboratory.

The head of LSH stared at him. “Are you sure?”

The officer suppressed the urge to roll his eyes – as if he would give such a statement when he wasn’t ‘sure’ – and replied: “There is a undeniable proof that prisoner 3158-17-215 took another’s identity, escaped during the shift change and is somewhere out there for several hours now.”

“Did he use the transporter?” Matthew asked and the commander shook his head.

“No. He knew that we could follow his tracks if he would has beamed somewhere else and used the stolen identity to leave LSH.”

“Whose identity?” Dr. Sino Lai-Heng, who was still watching the vital-signals of Brown, frowned.

“That of Dr. Hendrik Björnson. My men found him in the changing-room, unconscious – drugged, as it seems – and put in his locker, still wearing his lab-gown but nothing else.”

Matthew immediately walked to the cabinet that hold the sedatives to control the stock, while the officer continued:

“Björnson’s security- and credit-card, as well as the keys of his cyber-bike and his biker-helmet are missing. Doctor Björnson is about of the same height than prisoner 3158-17-215 and his hair is dark, too.” He made a face, while the two scientists looked nervously at him. “I already checked Björnson’s last movements. His terminal was used for the last time several minutes after the beta-shift started to work and the cameras filmed him as he stepped into the changing area. A figure in another lab-gown followed him and several minutes later a man left the room, wearing the civil-clothes of Björnson and carried the helmet beneath his arm.” He took a deep breath. “Prisoner 3158-17-25 simply walked out of here, straight beneath our nose!”

“And he took several sedative-hyposprays with him,” the professor called nervously, closing the cabinet again.

“Well, that explains how he could render Björnson unconscious,” the officer said grimly. “At least that bastard didn’t kill the doc.”

“Maybe he is still on the terrain?” Lai-Heng hoped and the commander shook his head.

“The guards at the main-entrance told me that they saw ‘Björnson’ drive away with his cyber-bike, heading down the street towards Las Vegas after a slight rough start. Well, regarding the good doctor’s habit to worn himself out during work no-one took notice of the short difficulties the bike-rider had to handle his own vehicle, before he drove away.” He gritted his teeth. “If you ask me your guinea pig enjoys his new freedom and certainly went already underground in Las Vegas of all places and… Yes?”

One of his subordinates stepped into the room, saluted and reported: “Sir, Starfleet-Command contacted Lieutenant Denaux. They want to know why we on red alert.”

Dashwood and the commander exchanged a look. Of course the security-system of this department was linked to the Starfleet Headquarter and it had been only a question of time until became apparent that something was wrong.

“Well, as it seems we have to let the cat out of the bag,” Matthew sighed.

“Hm-hm,” Sino nodded. “And Admiral Barnett will be so pleased to learn that this ‘cat’ is in truth a predatorily monster with no conscience and that the bag, it came ‘out’, is our lab!”

ST***ST***ST

Jim was simply not able to move. Soaring in the most content aftermath ever he laid on his bed, trying to sort out what just happened. To say in plainly: He had been driven to an orgasm that had rocked his whole world. He never had come that hard before, not had he ever felt so overwhelmed. And he certainly would have never expected something like this by being ravished by another man.

Jim Kirk was a womanizer; someone who enjoyed female attention and all that came afterwards, but to fall into maddening ecstasy because some super-human male seduced him – against his will – had never occurred to him.

But here he was: Lying weak like a kitten on his bed and sexual satisfied like never before.

And he didn’t care that it was Khan – of all people! – who had thrown him into this swirl of incomparable passion. He didn’t even care if the super-human would stand true to his word and would kill him now. All he could think of was the way he felt a short time ago and that he really, really wouldn’t mind a repeat; bad conscious be dammed!

Khan had rolled away sometime after they had consumed their raging needs, had rested for short time and had finally risen. Now the young captain could hear the Augment moving around, but he didn’t pay him any attention. He was far too busy to find back to reality and to re-claim some of his sane mind – if he still possessed one.

Suddenly there was a movement at the mattress and then he felt strong hands grip his upper arms. “Don’t fall asleep, Kirk!” the deep voice stated calmly and Jim cracked one eye open.

“If you want to take a nap, too, be my guest,” he all but croaked, closing the lid again. He was too wrung out, too tired to deal with the arrogant ways of the Augment, who…

He groaned, as his nemesis-turned-into-a-lover didn’t take a ‘no’ for an answer – again! – and pulled him up. Kirk realized that his legs were not supporting him and as Khan caught him, he simply leaned against him; hoping the dizziness would go away quickly.

Khan just looked down on the boyish officer, he supported in his arms. Red swollen lips, love-bites all over the neck, shoulders and chest, still flushed cheeks and glassy eyes were enough to tell him in which state his captive was. Kirk’s heartbeat had returned to a normal frequency, but the body-heat was still too high, and the wet mess they made during their savagely coupling was still clinging to the younger man’s skin and his own.

“Come on, Kirk, you’re not that weak!” The super-human growled.

“Give me minute,” Jim mumbled and made a face, as his captor retorted snidely:

“I already gave you five, now move!”

“How should a guy resist if he gets such a charming invita…” Jim groaned as he was simply picked up and was carried away. “Le’ me go!” he squawked and tried to struggle, what was even less successful like it had been the first time he attempted to escape the super-human.

Before he even realized what was going on he was placed on his feet again and blinked puzzled as he recognized that the Augment had brought him to the shower-cabin. Khan slipped in behind him, closed the door and switched on the water. It was a little too warm but Kirk didn’t protest. Even if his mind was working with the speed of an Andorian water snail he did know that a nice, hot shower would relax his muscles. Leaning against the wall he simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the water that splashed down on him.

“Skipped the trainings-sessions of your precious Starfleet or why you’re already that wrung out?” Khan taunted, reaching for the soap dispenser to wash the mixture of seeds and sweat off his body.

“Just shut up! A man has a right to be tired after he had the best orgasm of his life,” the young captain grumbled nonchalant; not realizing what he gave away with this statement!

“‘Best orgasm of your life’?” Khan smirked, while he soaped himself. “Told you that I’m better at everything.”

“Stop boasting.” The two words were barely understandable, but out of nowhere they made the Augment grin. Insolent, cocky boy! Kirk never knew when to quit or to stay silent, and somehow it amused Khan – if even for just a moment.

Then he turned serious again, as the unexpected contentment of the last minutes was driven away by the memories of the last time he had a decent shower: In a cleaning-booth that was attached to the cell aboard the Enterprise brig; after he had surrendered on Qo’noS. For just a moment he was back in this small, bright room; felt the spray pouring down on him, while his mind was fighting the bitter anger he was suffering. Not only that he grieved deeply for his crew he thought of being perished, his escape had taken an unexpected twist and he was a prisoner again, no, his body was also healing the bruises he had been inflicted with.

Khan had and would never admit it, but the furious blows of the young captain had hurt – the very reason why he had paid Kirk back in the same way on the bridge of the Vengeance after he gave up his pretense to be stunned. It would have been easily for him to just knock out the captain of the Enterprise, but wishing for revenge after the beating he took on the Klingon’s homeworld and the betrayal fresh in his mind, he reacted like it was in his nature.

As it was in his nature to do anything to protect his family!

At this time those who had been most dear to him still lived! Back during those moments he had thought that he could save them, take them away to a place where no-one could threat and hurt them anymore, but this hope had been for naught. His crew was dead – murdered! And one of the two, who were directly responsible for the demise of his loved ones, stood an arm’s length away and…

And had given him one of the most pleasurable experiences within the last years – if you didn’t count the three centuries he had been in cryosleep. For some minutes he had been able to forget all the pain, anguish, hate, despair and fear he had been through since Marcus awakened him two years ago. As Kirk had given into his lust and had wrapped his limps around him, the Augment had felt free; free like a bird taking wings and strong like the tigers of his home.

And he yearned for more!

For several hours he wanted to be without all the dread and fury – his permanent companions since he woke up in the 23rd century and maybe even before. They would come back to him in the morning anyway. But for a short stolen time he longed for simply being himself; not the leader, but someone who was a part of the great miracle that was called ‘life’. And he would take it from his foe. Kirk had made him feeling alive – and he wasn’t done with him in this matter.

His pale sea-colored eyes roamed over the slim youthful form of the other man, whose appearance practically screamed in which way he had been tired out. Khan pursed his own, still swollen lips. If he wished for another passionate round between the sheets he had to make certain that his reckless opponent wouldn’t pass out during their next carnal game.

Not too gently he pulled Jim closer, ignored the protest and soaped him, too. The feeling of the hot, wet skin beneath his hands, the scent of the young officer and the sight of the marks he left on Kirks neck and upper body weren’t without consequence. There was another stirring in the pitch of his stomach and he had to reinforce his control, otherwise he would ravish his nemesis here and now again.

Jim tried not to think about the fact that he was being washed by no-one else than his adversary; that he stood with Khan under the shower. He hissed as the Augment took care of the now over-sensitive part of his anatomy and tried to escape the strong, but soft hands – again without victory. The super-human pushed him against the wall, ordered a firm “Stand still!” and continued his ministrations.

Kirk shook his head. Who had ever heard of a murderer, who shagged his soon-to-be-victim into blissful oblivion and bothered himself with said victim’s welfare afterwards?

He gritted his teeth as the talent fingers of his enemy cleaned him properly and evoked a flare of want once again. Dear God, he had been taken long and hard only a short time ago and he was really tired. How was it possible that this damn enhanced bastard could provoke new lust in him?

“Turn around!” Khan instructed and nudged him as Jim didn’t react immediately. His gaze took in the muscular back of the other man, of the reddened areas of his rump, slim butt and long thighs, and a wave of pure manly satisfaction grazed him. There would been more traces when the night was over!

Massaging the soap into the toned, soft skin of his opponent he almost missed the whispered words: “Get the hell away from me!”

A low chuckle escaped the super-human’s throat. “Still in fighting-mood then? I am glad!” For a moment he pressed himself against the slightly smaller man and nipped roughly at his neck, before he murmured: “I love challenges!” With that he stepped back, rinsed himself and left the shower-cabin to get dry. There was no way for Kirk to contact someone outside of the apartment or to get a weapon that could be dangerous for Khan; not with the phaser still near the entrance and therefore out of reach for the Starfleet-officer.

And Jim knew this. He was completely and utterly at the super-human’s mercy – a fact that scared and annoyed him in one.

Cleaning himself form the lather he finally shut off the water and stepped with uneasy movements out of the shower. Khan was nowhere in sight, but there were voices coming from the living-area; telling him that the Augment had switched on the TV.

‘Probably watching the news, if they bring something about his escape – as if Starfleet would be so stupid to alert the whole planet!’ He took one of his towels, dried himself with weary movements, wrapped the towel around his waist and didn’t even look at his imagine in the mirror, before he left the room.

Khan was indeed in the living area of the apartment and watched intensely the news. Outside the thunder-storm was still raging; flash and thunders blustered through the night – a perfect mirror of the emotions the young man was experiencing. Than he stopped dead in his tracks as he heard his own voice coming from the large screen that was placed at the wall. He swallowed as he saw himself at the courtyard of the Starfleet Headquarter during the today’s ceremony – or had it been yesterday? He didn’t know; time had somehow lost its meaning during the last hour.

His eyes found his recorded self on the TV, standing at the lectern with the sun shining down on him and the admiralty at his left and his right. The most things he had already said and his speech was coming to an end: “… words I didn’t appreciate at that time. Now I see them for a call for us to remember who we once were and who we must be – again! And those words are: Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise at her five-year mission to explorer strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations – to boldly go where no-one has gone before!”

Jim could only stare at the screen. Those minutes which had just been shown at the TV seemed to be ages ago and not only hours. As he had ended his speech, the applause lessened after an awkward long time, the compliments of the admirals were over and he finally could speak with his friends in private, everything had been okay. He had looked forward to the days to come – to the moments he would finally re-boarding his ship and would take the conn again to explorer the galaxy. Now he couldn’t even say if there was a tomorrow for him. Even if the man, who stood only several meters away – ‘clad’ in a towel around his hips – had given him an experience of incredible passionate ecstasy he knew that death was still hovering over him like a drawn sword. Khan had not taken him to the higher spheres of bliss for Jim’s pleasure, but to satisfy his own needs.

“Impressing speech, Kirk,” the Augment murmured and switched off the TV by a single voiced command. “Tell me, did you commit it by memory or were these words your own?”

Green-blue eyes met sky-colored ones and the young captain sighed. “Partly a prepared speech, partly my own doing.” He padded to the sofa and sat down – only to curse and grimace. Dammit, he wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days – if there would be ‘days’ for him!

“The last part was the one you came up with by yourself,” Khan nodded and Kirk asked himself how the Augment could know this. “You’re a captain at heart!” the super-human continued and proved that he understood his adversary better than thought. “And you still believe in those foolish ideals Starfleet tries so desperate to show the world.” A hint of bitterness was in his tone, and Jim frowned.

“You are wrong when you think that those ideals are only a pretense! Section 31 betrayed everyone – you, my crew, my mentor, me – and all the others! But this is not what Starfleet truly presents. It…”

“It is a union of soldiers who go their way by any costs – even over dead bodies,” Khan growled; his gaze piercing. “You speak of forgiving, of seeking no revenge – but what of those who lost everything because of you?”

Kirk stared at him thunderstruck. “Because of me? What do you mean?”

Khan was in front of him within a second. “Don’t play dump with me, Kirk! You know exactly to what I refer.” He bent over the younger man; his whole form suddenly trembling with new up flaring fury. “You. Murdered. My. Family!” His hand found the nap of Jim’s neck and for several seconds he was really tempted to simply snap the fragile bones.

Even inferior, weakened by a forbidden, very intimate session and without any hope of a successful defense Kirk was still no-one who gave up. Wrapping his fingers around the strong wrist of his opponent and gripping with the other hand the upper arm of Khan he locked eyes with him, while it dawned at him that the super-human seemed still to believe that his crew was dead.

“Whoa, hold on a minute!” he exclaimed; feeling a short pang of panic as he saw the returning hate on his captors face, while the grip in his neck tightened. “I think here is a big misunderstanding to clari…” He yelped as Khan hauled him off the sofa and did the first thing that came to his mind: He let go of the other man’s arms and laid both hands on the firm chest in front of him; trying to calm his nemesis enough to hear him out. “Khan, just wait a sec! Listen!” He took a deep breath, as the Augment really did stop, and surveyed his opponent; took in the screaming pain beneath the rage in Khan’s gaze. That really could mean only one thing!

“Did no one tell you?” he whispered unbelievingly. Could it be that really no bloody soul on this whole planet had informed the super-human that his crew – his family – wasn’t dead? That would be… too cruel.

“Did no one tell me what, Kirk?” asked the former dictator, his voice barely audible. Of course his brilliant mind had already made the connection between his last statement and Kirk’s reaction to it, but he didn’t believe that there was the slightest possibility that his crew had survived the explosion of the torpedoes. He didn’t dare to hope that his family was still alive! The sorrow he would suffer again, if it turned out that Kirk didn’t mean what he thought, would shatter him utterly.

Jim’s eyes never left those of his enemy and as he saw the rising combat of hope and fear in those sea-green-blue pools it touched him stronger than expected. He forced himself to relax; praying that this gesture would sooth his adversary.

“Khan,” he said softly, “your crew is alive.”

Here is this weeks prompt picture:

The ship had stopped plumting to the certain death of everyone on the ship and that left everyone fairly stunned. Violet watched Spock leave the bridge first. Her mind was still whirling some and working a bit slow to process what it was seeing. As her Grandfather would be apt to say, heads so full of stuffing I need a bigger head. Slowly however the process of things came to the forefront of her mind, there is no possible way this ship could have just suddenly righted itself. Something had to have been miraculously put into place, someone had to do something. From what she could process of the damage the housings had likely not been aligned in the core which would mean someone would have had to manually move them into place….but who would be crazy enough to do that? Before the name even fully formed through her head she was running, running as hard as she could, running like she had learned running alongside her Grandfather. Sometimes all you could do was run, feel the burn in your legs see things in some kind of blur as they passed, feel your hearts pounding as hard as they could whether from panic or the running it was impossible to tell at this point. The sound of someone shouting…something was not reassuring as she continued to run down the corridor.

Violet came to a slow stop when she reached engineering everything seemed to come to a dull stop. She heard nothing around her and could only see what her eyes focused on in front of her. Every muscle in her body seemed to seize and tense in that moment and both of her hearts stopped, or so it felt like it anyways, the pain that seized her drove her down to her knees. Finally a sound reached her ears as she was on her knees staring ahead, a sound couldn’t be human or even humanoid perhaps some kind of banshee. It was only when she felt a soft hand on her shoulder that she realized the sound that she could hear was her own voice. She forced herself to stop…and continue to stare slowly another voice penetrated the pain and fog that was looming around her.

“I am so sorry lass…..I…I tried to stop him but…”

Scotty…that’s who was speaking and he was choking up as well. Finally she blinked rapidly trying to force the rest of her limbs to do something, anything but they wouldn’t listen she couldn’t move aside from the racking shudders that were starting to move throughout her muscles.

“Come lassie let’s get you to McCoy…you do not look well.”

The voice…Scotty…Scotty’s voice was still choked up but there was a genuine and warm concern for her as well. Violet managed to bring air into her lungs then back out then in following this route several times. Slowly. Carefully. Then one hand clenched tight her knuckles turning white. “Kahn.” She said it softly barely above a whisper and with such a stillness in her body you would wonder if she had actually done or said anything at all. “One warning.”

“Yes…but Violet come now let’s get McCoy to look you over you may need something to help with…everything.”

HELP? What could HELP this?!! She knew one thing that could…and it was not anything McCoy had. Clenching her other fist closed tightly she managed to come to her feet a slow process but as she moved it was steadier. Slowly she gave Scotty’s shoulder a squeeze but said nothing else directly to him. Not a word moving to one of the computers thoughts coming online in rapid fire again, Spock must have gone after the son of a Bitch but even a Vulcan couldn’t take on the type of man that he was he would only get himself dead. Her body shuddered again…dead. Like Jim. No. Don’t allow it to paralyze you again she reminded herself and found what she was looking for in the computer lifting her arm to the old looking leather band she flipped it open and put the coordinates into it Father had not missed the theft yet and like that she was gone off the ship and standing on a side walk in San Francisco. Taking a moment to orient herself and allow her eyes to scan the area she spotted them and she had been right in her calculations two figures ran towards her one with a substantial lead weaving around crowds the other in a blue shirt behind. Just as the tall form of Kahn was about to blow past her not noticing just as he had everyone else in the area Violet drew her arm back and brought it for his throat. The movement placed perfectly with his own forward motion sent the man sprawling backwards through the air and hard onto his back on the ground.

Her voice came out in an almost feral snarl as she moved with single focus towards the form, “You’re not the only one who was built from something special Kahn.” Her eyes narrowed the man seemed to still be stunned that his progress was stopped so fully. “I am the Grand Daughter of the on coming storm…and you are going to pay for what you did…”

This weeks prompt photo is inspired by the Wonderful Sexy Mr. Benedict cumberbatch since it his his 38th Birthday.

Slowly she let her eyes caress his form, he was long and lean and very well toned for a man who was so brainy. Then she had made the statement that brainy was the new sexy and with him there was no doubt of that. Her black spiked heels slowly clicked on the floor as she circled the bed in a slow motion like a well-trained bird of prey knowing her game was well caught and simply waiting. Slowly upon reaching the left side of the bed she reached out and brushed the almost velvety end of the crop against his cheek, “I told you that you would always remember me as the woman who beat you Sherlock.” Her tone was soft, low and dangerous in that sultry way.
“I won the game in the end.” Was the reply that came from his lips. Bold she thought for a man who was firmly secured to bed posts with strong leather straps, but that did seem to be his way she smiled and gave a firm crack of the crop against his cheek, enough to sting.

“And yet…here we are.” She then stated watching him a brow arched.

“Here we are.” He conceded

Good he was learning and that alone was enough to make the point he had made that year or more ago true. She was indeed Sher-locked she had been since their first meeting. Yet even if he did not know how to say it, he had in his own way actually said it that he was just as lost in something he didn’t yet understand as she was. Drawing up the silken edges of the pale blue silken gown she had put on and that was barely more than a long sheath that was cut too low to even cover her breasts, she slipped gracefully onto the bed, placing one leg on either side of him and straddling his waist crop still in hand. Oh how she enjoyed the way those pale blue eyes tracked every movement she made.

“Have you been a naughty boy again today Sherlock?” she murmured while watching him, seeing the small signs ones that he once accused her of being the only one to show, breathing, pulse, dilated pupil and her mouth turned up into the ghost of a smile. As she shifted her body to press more firmly below the waist her smile turned into a true one at what she could feel pressing intimately against her, “Well you most certainly have.”

She didn’t let him respond then he was opening his mouth to say something when she pressed her finger against those soft and sensual lips. Her other hand came up and stripped away the cloth of his purple shirt revealing the strong expanse of chest he had hidden under it. It was often here where she allowed her rigid control to slip a small bit, to show the side that had fallen for him instead of just the Dominatrix with a soft pleased gasp that came from her mouth. With that gasp still lingering in the air she drew her head to that sculpted torso and began to tease her tongue along his collar bone first. The journey continued first circling each of his nipples slow and sensual leaving a hot trail behind her. Having traced both nipples she then blew air over them watching the reaction and hearing his cool hiss of pleasure.

This sound from him only caused her to continue shifting her body in an easy practiced fashion as she left his nipples behind and continued the trail downwards. When her path was blocked by the waistband of his now very strained trousers she used her practiced hand once more to rip the waistband open and with a pull and a lift of her body drawing everything that was in her way down past the knees, then one heeled foot shoved them the rest of the way off the heap of clothing hitting the floor with a light thud. This motion of course had caused him not only to arch but for his thick, fully erect and utterly divine to look on manhood to spring free. She moaned in appreciation before reaching out and grabbing his shaft firmly in her grasp leaning forward as she did her eyes locked onto his as the movement of her forward lean brought his turgid length between her full breasts.

By now he was arching to her, straining against the ties that held his hands firmly in place. He could not touch her and he could not get away from her. Just how she liked it, though she knew he had no intention of getting away from her at all. She moved her body allowing that hard steel to stroke through her cleavage several times her eyes never leaving his, “You know what it is you have to do…” that old game between them, she had told him twice and she had not lied though since then it had been many times since. Sometimes he resisted but today she did not think he would, for long anyways.

With a gasping breath he managed to find breath enough, her movements were for the most robbing him of his facilities and that was always a bit unsettling to him who was always in his head, “I beg…for mercy.”

She wet her lips softly as he said it slowly releasing him and moving her body away enough to reposition herself. Oh he was not the only one in need she was simply better at control it most of the time, she was wet dripping even and ready as she hovered above him. “Well I won’t make you beg for mercy twice…today.” she whispered out her tone huskier before with one swift well practiced motioned she lowered herself fully, taking his girth and length into her with a deep pleasured moan. Slowly she stretched forward with him inside her then kissing him passionately but not releasing his hands, then lips still against his she murmured, “Happy Birthday Sherlock.”

This weeks photo prompt:

She looked out over the field of Gauls with a cool and calm eye. Andromeda had little in the way of armor, but she knew that the lines her Father and the man she loved most in the world, Antony had were in danger of falling away to the Gallic forces. She had to do something she was the Daughter of Caesar! While she had been born female, she had long been raised on the campaign trail learning how to fight by watching and then as she grew in secret with Antony teaching her skills she could use on the field of battle. He never treated her just like a girl, he wanted her to know how to fight. Now with a woman’s sense of things she knew part of it was because he found it arousing when a woman fought, but she also knew that he wanted her to be able to protect herself. At this moment she would now use those skills to help them. Slowly she turned her eyes to the small legion of men she had rounded away from the main thick of battle, good man’s part of the 13th they would never purposely break the line but the barbarians had broken one of the columns and the troops floundered.

She knew she was dressed scantily, the long togas of a Roman woman would never do to battle. So instead she had taken the under top of one of her Mothers, may she rest well with the Gods Egytpian tops and cut a skirt until it was short. A roman red stripe of cloth covered her mouth and nose against the dust and stench so her senses of smell and taste would not betray her. Now she had full range of movement even if a lot of flesh showed, if anything she supposed it would serve as some kind of distraction to the barbaric. Perhaps she would be raped, or killed, but she would go down fighting and hope that it would turn the tides of the battle. Cooly is gripping the heavy shield and the sturdy Roman spear, a sword strapped at her hip she turned to the men. “Will you rally to me?” the men clanked their swords to their shields, those who had them those who did not to their armor “We will” they said in true roman unison. Andromeda nodded that was all she needed she turned her eyes back to the battle at hand “For Rome! For Antony and For CAESAR!” she cried the men following her cry in turn as they moved of swift legs straight into the thick of battle.

The picture prompt for this week is:

(can you tell I am enjoying picture prompts?)

The newest lot of prisoners or as Loki preferred to call them new friends were marched into the dungeons of Asgard none of it seemed to be anything out of the ordinary in the way of things. Thor and his friends marching around taking all the credit for everything and bringing in a steady stream of prisoners for the prisons, that was until a slender cloaked figure stopped outside of Loki’s cell, well this was different.

Bastet peered into the clear prison cell of Asgard from beneath the soft gray of the cloak she wore when coming to this land of chill and those who did not seem to think over much beyond the next battle. The one who was in the cell he seemed different. Oh, he looked Asgardian enough in many respects, yet his scent his baring and of course the fact that he was in their prison spoke to something different and to Bastet this was a curious thing. More than curious actually it got her full attention which was not always easy to do. She did not make so much as a movement as she regarded him and in turn she could see him regard her back and it was like this that time would pass for several minutes.

Finally, she broke the regarding stand off by speaking in a soft voice that was as warm as the mid noon sun said, “Who are you to be locked away so?”

Loki had been trying to see past the cloak to who or what was underneath, but it was an effective tool for something so simple, it came as a surprise when a woman’s warm voice came from inside the cloak and one that was not sneering something, so not someone Odin sent. “I am Loki.” He cut himself short of saying anything further as he often did.

Understanding washed over Bastet as the man decided to speak and she couldn’t help but feel a small curve of a smile coming to her lips as she noted he kept himself short, not clipped just not giving much away, “Ah yes so you are the one that has everyone running around like someone kicked an ant hill.”

“That would be me the one put away to rot in a prison. While Thor bumbles about and then becomes King.”

Bastet continued to look at him from beneath her hood and then she laughed softly, “He does seem to bumble about yes. Loki.” She nodded some thoughtfully, “I always heard you were the thinker and a silver tongue, I can think of many things to do with such a tongue”

Loki could not help the smile that touched his lips turning both corners up slightly into a mischievous leer at how she had chosen to play such a comment, “Oh could you now? Well, as tempting as that might be as you can see I am presently rather stuck and have very little of you to go by being all mysterious behind your dark hood.”

She watched that smile as it flickered to life upon his face on that smile was dangerous indeed. Bastet was positive he knew exactly the effect that smile had on others and she knew it was having an effect on her as well, pulling on that raw sensual side of her. The side she was being very careful to keep leashed while on this little visit to Asgard, however he made it difficult. Coming back from her thoughts she noticed he had tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, meaning she had likely been silent for sometime, when he spoke again in that deep rumble of a teasing voice.

“Cat got your tongue?”’

She laughed then and it was a joyous laugh, honest and pure not a polite laugh and not one that you put on in formal company.”Oh, if only you knew about that.” Finally though she made a choice drawing her hands up to delicately pull the hood from her face. Revealing to him the soft curve of her face and a cupid’s bow mouth, with long raven hair that fell in soft, loose curls down past her waist and presently her eyes taking on a hue of green peered at him. She had for this trip chosen the fully humanoid looking way to appear, seemed to make most Asgardians more comfortable. “Better?”

Loki hadn’t honestly thought she would remove the hood, he had been prodding out of his usual mischievous way of things. This woman was if nothing else entertainment he had not had in a while. However, when the dark hood came away and revealed her face and all of that dark and rich hair the silver tongue fell completely silent just looking upon her. He had not honestly expected such a captivating creature beneath the hood, most who hide do so for good reason. This one, had no reason to hide he could also feel a slight sense around her as if this was just one of several forms she could take but by far all of them beautiful. Perhaps that was just a wishful thought, but it was a feeling none the less.

Bastets lips curled as she watched many things flicker through the Asgardians eyes, he was thinking a great many things at once, which was fair and she liked it he was clever. So many went for the first baser instinct they felt, clearly he felt them. Her eyes travelled down along to rest just below his waist for that, VERY clearly. Yet that was not the only thought he processed. “Now who has their tongue grabbed by the feline?” she said with a slow purr rolling from her voice and as she did, she allowed with a soft violet shimmer around her the sleek black feline tail she called in one form to flick out and waggle in a teasing manner in the cell.

“Oh” was not the most intelligent of things to say, but it is what Loki found himself saying it at that reveal. Oh, what a Naughty girl! He had to shift slightly to use a wider stance and be more comfortable. Come on Loki get a grip even if she would be incredibly fun to take against the side of the cell, it would not happen. This cell was your home for the foreseeable future. He cleared his throat and inclined his head to her, “Worth the reveal.”

Her eyes dilated some when he had to shift it gave her a better reveal anyways. That is when she made another choice, “How would you like to get out of that cage?”

“I was obviously not made to reside in one, but how do you plan to remove me from it? It is Odin himself, who locked me up after all.”

“Foolish of him”

“I like the way you think.”

Bastet laughed, “I can have you removed from there, although you might not like the circumstances.”

He levelled a steady gaze on her, his eyes almost hard, yet so deep, smoldering fire burned within them “I just want to be out of here”

“Then I shall be back shortly.” She said and turned to go before he could so much as raise a finger to ask but what are you doing.

 

***

 

Bastet was swift following her tour guide guard into the large and sweeping chamber that held King Odin, she knew he would be there as he knew she had arrived. So to this end she wasted no time or preamble.

“I have come this day to Asgard to collect the debt you owe Odin, All Father of Asgard.”

Odin stiffened, but he could keep somewhat of a poker face as he looked upon the formidable Daughter of Ra, “The debt is owed to your Father”

“Which he specifically stated was for me to collect You know this Odin. Let us not play games around it. I want the debt, and I will have it this day. My Father and his Armies including myself.” She arched a brow at him “gave you aid a great deal of it in many times of need. We spilled blood. The price was a simple one.”

Odin’s jaw set slightly but he nodded “Yes, an Asgardian male of your choosing when you chose.”

“Exactly so, ANY Asgardian male.”

“You cannot have Thor.”

The laugh that left her lips this time was almost cruel, it was not amused, “I could if I wished it. The deal you made with my Father was ANY. That said Odin, I do not wish Thor. He is an oaf, we have plenty of those back home.” She held up a hand in case he wanted to argue or say she was insulting “You banished him down to the land of the mortals yourself for a time, so please do not argue the fact.” Slowly her lips curled up “I want your other Son, Loki.” She was fairly sure the old man could not have registered more shock on his face if she had flashed him, of course that might actually be less shocking considering her nature.

“Loki….is not Asgardian and he is in Prison..for crimes against Midgard and commited here.”

“You always said to my Father you had two Sons of Asgard did you not? Thor and Loki..this is the same Loki isn’t it?”

“Yes, but he is of Jotunheim, I took him when he was but a babe.”

“Yet when you raised him you raised him as your Son, did you not? Told ALLIES he was your SON..YOU Odin All Father of Asgard.”

“Yes.”

“Then for all purposes he is of Asgard and Asgardian.”

“He is a monster.”

Slowly, her eyes shifted to a more golden color and they narrowed upon Odin, “Perhaps some of us have different definitions of Monster. He is who I wish to fulfill the debt. It matters not to me, you have him in a cell, after all you essentially agreed to a pact of slavery to the male that I chose when you agreed to my Fathers deal. So what matter you if he is in chains here or with me. At least with me he would no longer be your problem.”

Odin was silent, then considering her words. True, he could get rid of Loki and chances are the feline beast on the battlefield would do away with him in short order if the stories were true that she had heard. Shifting his staff he looked to a good “Put Loki in his chains, make sure he is secure from Queen Bastet.”

She knew he would see it her way. Foolish old man, he saw Loki as nothing desirable just a problem to be rid of. More the fool him, she could see a great many things to desire in just a brief meeting with him. With that settled, she turned on her heels and left the massive room, taking her time and making her way back to down to the prison.

***

By the time Bastet’s slow journey brought her back into the cells of Asgard they had Loki ready. There where she counted no less than 8 guards on him, with heavy chaining around his neck, then looped down to his legs, around his hips and down onto his feet. Two guards held onto the long, heavy chain and back away from him. She also noted there was a gag over his mouth.

Overkill much? She couldn’t help but muse looking at the guards “All this for one Asgardian?”

“He is dangerous, King Odin said to make him secure for you.”

Slowly she neared him, watching his eyes track her suspiciously as she did upon reaching him she reached one hand up and trailed it along his cheek over the gag. Then, with a movement that was swift and smooth as she ripped the gag off and threw it at the nearest guard. Then held her hands out demanding the chains. The two men holding the chains put them in her hand quickly.

Loki put his head to the side slightly after being freed of the gag over his mouth and watching the chains go into her slim hand, she held them as if they weighed little. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

The picture for this weeks prompt is:

                                                                                                             source

 

That… was so not happening!

No!

Not here, not now and not with him of all people!

Khan’s hot breath washed over his face, his arms and legs hindered him to move successful – as much as he wanted to break free – then his enemy pulled him on his back and slipped over him; forcing his hands over his head and pressing him down with his whole weight, while his lips attacked him merciless.

Only slowly Kirk comprehended that their combat had taken a completely different turn, as Khan deepened the intimate assault. He tried to push the invader out – and a flash of hot white energy lashed through his whole being the moment his tongue touched the Augment’s one. He could feel himself hardening more; the adrenalin and bottled-up fear searched a way for a work-out. The low growl that rose from Khan’s throat was enough to throw Jim into action again. He wouldn’t give in – ever! – and even if the violence had changed into something new and completely incalculable, he would fight back as good as he could. At least in this department he maybe stood a chance against the enhanced man and could pay him some back!

Khan groaned quietly as he felt Kirk responding to him. Their tongues battled for dominance, teeth scratched at the sensitive skin of their lips, gasps were swallowed by each other. Usually he was the one who controlled others, but as the certain part of the younger man’s anatomy made itself more than recognizable, a wave of pure lust rushed through him that cracked his composure.

He would have James Kirk! He would take him again and again – until he had him out of his systems – and only afterwards he would snap his neck.

Khan tore his mouth from Kirk’s, relished for a moment in the taste that was sweet and manly in one, and stared down at his adversary, who lay helpless beneath him. Swollen lips, flushed face, heavy breathing, a soft shimmering layer of sweat covering a well-toned chest… It was a picture of a forbidden dream he had during his imprisonment aboard the Enterprise. And his body answered to this now real view with a growing erection like he hadn’t in years – neither back in his own time, nor since he had been awakened by Marcus in the 23rd century.

Oh yes, this night would turn out even much better than imagined! The super-human’s natural demand for domination, the far too long suppressed manly needs and his burning greed for his insolent, lovely foe wouldn’t allow him anything else! Augments were not only stronger in body and mind; their feelings were also more intense than those of the normal human species.

Jim was out of breath and more blood had headed south directly into his shaft, but he didn’t back down, as his nemesis’ eyes seemed to pierce his soul. Even if he didn’t loath the taste in his mouth, even if his attacker was hot as hell with this savagely glances, his now disheveled ebony hair and the soft pink on his high cheekbones, Kirk would not surrender to the sudden desire Khan had somehow aroused in him.

“Get. Off. Me!” he all but snarled, but instead of enraging his nemesis, Khan only smirked evilly.

“This is exact my intention, Captain,” he drawled huskily. He let go of Jim’s wrists and raised on his knees; still straddling him.

Jim, never one to miss a chance when given, reared up again and punched the other man; trying to force him down from his lap. All he earned for his attempt was a pleased smirk, accompanied by an amused chuckle, while Khan caught his wrists again.

“So much stubbornness,” he murmured, twisting Kirk’s arms behind his back without actually harming him and pulled the young captain with one fluid movement against his chest. “So much fire!” he whispered in Jim’s ear, giving its shell an almost gentle lick, before he trailed a wet track down where throat and shoulder melted together and bit into the soft flesh. Not too hard, neither too soft.

“Son of a bitch!” Kirk gasped, as his body had its own idea how to react to this new very erotically assault.

“I will enjoy this hot temper – especially when it is displays in a pleasurable way,” Khan all but purred.

Jim thought his heart would leap out of his chest, as he felt the very hard proof of the Augment’s state at his own groin. Once again he struggled, what made his enemy hiss – not in wrath, but in nameless craving.

“Keep this up, Kirk, and we won’t make it even to the bed.”