Title: Cleave To Thy Master Author: Ainzfern Series: DS9-M/U Codes: Sloan/MU Garak Rating: NC-17 (M/M - Violence - NON CONS) Disclaimer: Paramount owns STAR TREK ... etc and so on and so forth! My only pay here is personal joy. Summary: Sloan enters the Alternate Universe bound on a secret mission to neutralize a potential threat against the Federation. Archiving: Certainly- if you want to- please let me know. Feedback: Yes please! All comments welcome. Author's Note: This is a re-work of an earlier post to the board. Mostly in the second part. Following Kristin's feedback, I felt that a little more fleshing out was definitely required. This is the result... HUGE thanks to Kristin for her BETA on this revised version and also for giving me the inspiration to have another go! * * * Cleave To Thy Master Kneeling in the center of a dank little cell, wrists securely bound behind his back, Agent Sloan raised his battered face and assessed his surroundings. If he was bothered by his injuries, or the dreadful stench of excrement and fear that still clung to this room, he didn't show it. Instead, the square jawed face displayed nothing but a kind of calm, grim determination. He'd been in worse places. He was still alive. He still had a chance of success. That was all he needed to know. Beyond the barred door, the guards watched him with contempt. A Bajoran and a Cardassian. Sloan still couldn't quite get past the oddness of seeing them together as comrades in arms. They were laughing at him, taking turns to spit insults through the bars. ...He was unbelievably stupid, even for a human! He had come out of the wormhole and just waited to be picked up! He was a coward, a dumb animal! Too afraid to fight, too stupid to flee... Sloan ignored them, continuing with the observation of his current lodgings. Listening to a few of the choicer insults, Sloan nearly smiled. The natural arrogance of his enemies was bound to work in his favor. Not even for a moment had anyone assumed that he'd LET himself be caught. There was a threat against the Federation here. Section 31 had paid very careful attention to this dark Mirror Universe since they had first picked up indications of it. The threat had to be neutralized. The power behind this Terok Nor had to be brought down. A dangerous mission with little chance of success. Sloan had volunteered. He was very loyal. It wasn't Intendant Kira, despite the way she displayed her power over life and death here like some kind of parlor trick. Overall, she was incredibly petty and totally absorbed in her own excesses. She was a vicious empty- headed sensualist with delusions of grandeur. She played the goddess in her own little realm. She was obvious. Obvious in her weaknesses, displaying them publicly as if they were a badge of honor. Sloan had already dismissed her. He was after the real power in Terok Nor. The one that pulled the strings and operated this part of the Alliance from behind the Intendant's face. The First Officer. If a threat against the Federation was in the planning, HE would orchestrate it. Careful investigations had revealed a small chink in the cold, ruthless second-in-command's armor. He DID have his little aberrations, just as the Intendant did. But unlike her, he kept his diversions private, behind the closed doors of his luxurious quarters. So there it was...a vulnerability. Now all Sloan had to do was find a way to exploit it. A harsh voice pulled him out of his musing. "Hey! Little Vole! Human!" The Bajoran guard was speaking to him. "Whyd'ya come here anyway huh? Why didn't you stay on the other side...where human's are allowed off the leash!" His Cardassian colleague snorted with derisive laughter. Sloan looked at them, face expressionless. "I have come here to kill the Intendant, Kira Nerys." *** "Not perhaps, the wisest thing a man in your position could have said." The urbane voice brought Sloan instantly out of his light doze. //Yes!// He exulted privately. "First Officer Garak, I presume?" Sloan said politely. The Cardassian looked amused as he entered the cell. "Indeed...You were perhaps expecting the Intendant?" "No," Sloan told him. "They'd hardly bother her with the idle threat of a human, would they?" "What made you so sure that this...threat of yours would interest me?" Garak was openly smiling now, cold eyes glinting in the dim light. "Because you take your job very seriously." "Hmm." Garak stared thoughtfully at him. "It would seem that you know something of me, Human. I don't know that I like that very much...I also don't like the fact that you aren't all you seem to be." Sloan waited. "Your shuttle..." Garak continued. "Its memory banks wiped themselves clean as soon as our technicians attempted to access them." "I know." "Why?" Garak's voice was still low, but it now held a dangerous undertone. Sloan would have to watch his step very carefully here. "So that you couldn't track my superiors." Sloan answered honestly. "Certain, shall we say...regressive members of our Government would object very strongly to my being here." "Why did your superiors send you?" "To talk to you. To present a proposal," Sloan answered. It was a delicate mix he used, part lie, part truth. If he got it right, then hopefully the whole lot would be swallowed. Garak's face flashed back to amusement. "To open a dialogue?" He exclaimed delightedly. "Then your death threat against the Intendant…?" "A lie," Sloan admitted. "I only said that to get you down here." Immediately, the First Officer's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was clear that he very much disliked being manipulated. //Easy, Sloan. Too brash...pull it down a bit.// He told himself. "I apologize for the ruse, First Officer. But my ultimate goal has benefits for us both." He rushed on, giving a fair impression of suitable contrition. Garak took a step closer, looking down at him. Again he smiled, but those glittering eyes remained hard. "Tell me," he murmured, "Why did you not wish to deal directly with the Intendant? Surely this... excellent proposal of yours should be directed to her?" Sloan smiled slightly. //All right... Go for broke.// "Because you and I both know she's an idiot." Without warning, Garak backhanded the Human across the face. Sloan had seen the blow coming, but with his hands securely tethered he was unable to brace himself. He fell heavily sideways, his ears ringing and blood streaming from his re-split lip. Instantly, Garak was on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him down into the damp floor while his tortured arms screamed. "Impertinence will NOT be tolerated, little Human," Garak hissed at him, wild eyes flashing. "You will learn that it is not the place of a low creature like you to pass comment on your betters!" With a little shove, Garak released him and stood up, brushing off his hands with distaste. Then quietly, he added, "Even if our opinions happen to concur." The amusement was back in his eyes. Sloan's remark had obviously tickled him. He turned away and addressed the guards. "Clean him up and have him delivered to my quarters," he ordered. Then, without further comment, he left. On the floor, face down in the muck, Agent Sloan allowed himself a small smile. "Bingo," he whispered. *** Shortly thereafter, he found himself being firmly pushed through the doors of First Officer Garak's opulent quarters. It was fairly evident from the haste with which he had been stripped, cleaned, patched up and re-dressed, that an order from the Second in Command was followed without hesitation. Garak was obviously a man used to having his own way. Somehow, no matter what transpired from now on, Sloan knew he would have to keep some kind of advantage. If he lost his edge - he would fail. Standing in the middle of the large room, he slowly turned in place, scanning the details, committing them to memory. Everything here bespoke richness and luxury. The rugs were plush, the bed was soft and piled with plump cushions, the drapes and wall hangings were velvet swathes of vivid color. This was a room designed for seduction. "Searching for a way out, little Human?" Garak's voice came from behind him. Sloan started slightly, but quickly recovered. "No." he replied, "Just admiring your taste." Garak chuckled. It was not an entirely pleasant sound. He had discarded his armored breastplate but still wore the tight fitting undershirt and black uniform pants. The combination showed his powerful body to best advantage. The odds in the game changed again. For some reason, Sloan had expected Garak to be slightly soft under his armor...pampered and spreading through good living. This was not the case. In front of him was a fully mature, dominant Cardassian male in his physical prime. "The proposal I spoke about, First Officer..." he began. "What is your name?" Garak asked moving into the room, moving closer to Sloan. He kept his eyes on the Cardassian's movements. "Luther." "Well...Luther," Garak replied, eyes again coldly assessing, "I didn't bring you up here to talk about proposals." Garak was circling him now, body taut and ready, feet silently pressing onto the floor with each slow and deliberate step. Forced to turn around in order to keep his eyes on him, for a crazed moment, Sloan bit back a bark of laughter. //My God...He's STALKING me! // "You see, my little human," Garak continued, "You came here and surrendered yourself, which effectively means that you are now the property of this station. And as you and I both agreed earlier, I run the station... So you now belong to me." Sloan swallowed thickly. //You knew this was the drill...so deal with it! // "One question?" Garak paused in his prowling movements and waited. "Why have me?" Garak laughed softly, his face beaming, delighted - a joyful silver demon. "Because you intrigue me, my pet! Because unlike those poor passive little wretches that I'm normally forced to keep, you still have your spirit. Because you represent a challenge, and mostly, because...I...can!" Garak tensed to spring, but it was Sloan who moved first, propelling himself shoulder first into the Cardassian's chest. To his credit, Sloan did manage to get a few good blows in before Garak, with apparently little effort, lashed out with snake-like speed, sending him reeling backwards. As he struggled to regain his balance, he was struck again. This time Garak's open palm caught him under the jaw, snapping his head back and throwing him against the bulkhead at the rear of the room. Before he was even able to draw another breath, Garak was on him. Gripping him painfully by the upper arms, he held him tightly up against the bulkhead. "I simply cannot fathom why you are wasting your energy trying to fight me, little pet," he told the gasping human in a tone that was warm, even affectionate. "The end result will be the same." Sloan panted. "You think?..." With a laugh, Garak turned and hurled the human across to the bed. His legs struck the edge of it, and he fell backwards onto the huge pile of cushions. As he struggled to sit upright, the Cardassian lunged, grabbing him under the thighs and roughly jerking him forward so that his hips rested on the edge of the bed. Then he bent down over him, one arm on either side of his head, his bulk effectively trapping the human under him. Sloan's' mind was working double time as he looked into those gleeful, predatory blue eyes. He had to salvage something, anything! It was fairly clear what was going to happen. Now it was vital, that at least in Sloan's mind, Garak understood that this would not break him - that he was still capable of dictating some of the terms. Mistaking his stillness as passivity, Garak smiled. "Good boy," he purred at him as if praising a young pup. Quickly, he unbuckled the front of his uniform pants and yanked them open, revealing his hard glistening sex. "You'll find that I can be very generous when the mood takes me. Your life here doesn't have to be unpleasant. Good behavior is always rewarded." As Garak reached down to remove his rough, shapeless prison clothing, Sloan made his move. Without warning, he reared up, grabbing the Cardassian around the waist. Angling his face to the junction between Garak's neck and shoulder, he clamped his teeth over the dark, flaring neck ridge and bit down hard, drawing blood. Garak roared with arousal and arched backwards, bringing the human with him, holding his head against that sensitive area. Then, with another deep growl, he tore Sloan's face away from his shoulder and, gripping him tightly, bent his own mouth to his soft neck. The pain of Garak's reciprocal bite was incredible. Sloan bit down on hard on his lower lip to stop the pained shout that threatened to come. He tasted blood, whether his or Garak's, he didn't know. The room suddenly spun as Garak flipped him over. He ripped away his clothing with a single tearing wrench along the back seam and penetrated him fully with one hard, deep stroke, big hands holding his hips tightly. White knuckled and sweating, Sloan's face was a grimace of silent agony as he braced himself against Garak's thrusting. He knew that the Cardassian's natural lubrication would spare him from more severe damage, but oh...it hurt! He had never been taken like this before and his shocked body protested the invasion. Even through the fire in his head, Sloan's cunning mind continued to work. He had deliberately upped the stakes, now he must at least try to score a few more points. Gripping his hands tightly into the bedclothes and damning the pain, Sloan began slamming himself backwards, meeting Garak's thrusts. The audible gasp behind him showed that he'd managed to surprise his captor. With a surge of triumph, Sloan increased his movements. As his did so, the burning pain inside him started to fade. The increase in penetration was bringing the head of Garak's shaft into repeated contact with his prostate and in spite of himself, Sloan actually felt the pleasure starting to build. Amazingly, he was getting hard. The pain was going, and in its place only a growing heat remained. Garak's helpless rhythmic shouts behind him aroused him even further as they were a clear sign of just how much power he'd won back by making this move. It was feeling good now...very good. He was back in control again. Teeth clenched, Sloan still fought to keep silent. Biting down hard, not on a scream of pain, but on a cry of pleasure. His belly tightened, his own sex rock hard and weeping slightly. // Give me your best, you Cardassian bastard! You think it hurts? I fucking LIKE it! // He felt the Cardassian quicken inside him. Heard the ear shattering roar of his completion. Strong hands lifted his hips, holding him hard. Deep inside of him Garak's member pulsed and twitched as he came copiously, emptying himself in endless spurts. With a shove, Garak withdrew and sent Sloan sprawling onto his back across the bed, the human's own quivering sex still hard and unsatisfied. Panting deeply, he forced himself to lay still as he glared into Garak's pale blue eyes. "You surprise me, pet," Garak remarked amiably as he refastened his uniform. "You actually seemed to enjoy that! They usually don't, first time around." His brilliant eyes flicked down to regard Sloan's solid erection. "That must be most uncomfortable for you." He said with mock solicitousness. "Why don't you take care of it?" // Fuck you! If you won't do it, then it doesn't get done! // Almost as if reading Sloan's thoughts, Garak laughed softly and shrugged. "Suit yourself, pet." He turned dismissively and walked to the door. Sloan watched him with blazing eyes. He got halfway across the room when he suddenly stopped. Standing still for a moment, he seemed to consider something. The without a word, he turned back and approached the bed again. Reaching down between Sloan's legs, he gripped the humans aching erection and began to pump it firmly. After only a few strokes from Garak, Sloan's thrumming body peaked. Hips bucking wildly, he came over the Cardassian's fist in blissful release. Unable to maintain his inborn self- control, he flung back his head and shouted as the pleasure crested over him. "There..." Garak purred at him, as if well pleased to finally elicit a sound from the Human. "I told you good behavior would be rewarded." Then, with a parting smile, Garak left him again. *** Sloan awoke when he felt something land on his naked chest with a soft thump. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he looked up to see Garak standing over him, a benevolent smile on his elegantly ridged features. "I brought you a little something, my pet. A small token of my gratitude for your rather...satisfying performance today." Sloan sat up and looked down at the plush material which had slid into his lap. It was a tunic and trousers, deep blue in color. The fabric was heavy and soft, like crushed velvet. It was, to be certain, a beautiful outfit. Slowly, Sloan's hands closed over it, crumpling the fine fabric in disgusted pride. // GOOD little human! You have pleased your Master. Here's a TREAT for you! If you knew who I am, what I can do, what I will do... // Masking his expression carefully, he looked up into Garak's waiting face. "Thank you," he murmured politely. "It's very beautiful." "Certainly a far more appropriate outfit for you to be wearing," Garak told him. "You are mine now. I expect you to dress well." "Of course." As Garak continued with his lecture, detailing how he expected his new acquisition to behave, Sloan allowed his thoughts to wander. Whilst still mouthing the required responses to his new "master," he spared a brief sad thought for his wife and family. They would be well taken care of, he knew. Section 31 was always very good about things like that. His apparent death would be conveniently explained with a convincing mock accident. They would never have to know what really happened to him. He was profoundly grateful for that. And Jessica would never know that he'd gloried in Garak's brutal lovemaking. He was grateful for that too. Focusing his attention back to Garak, Sloan put on a convincing display of appropriate submission, giving the Cardassian no reason to doubt that his slave was taking in every word. He didn't want to anger Garak. He needed to stay on his good side. He would need to build up enough trust so that he could start to probe for information. Sloan had to be sure that the threat against his beloved Federation began and ended with the First Officer. He knew that his chances of getting home were next to none. He didn't care. The main thing was to ensure that if he was to die here, that Garak's plans were neutralized first. He would do whatever it took to achieve his goals. The men and women of Section 31 were nothing if not committed to the end result. *** As the weeks became months, a kind of defining of roles was established. Outwardly, it was never questioned that Sloan was, in all respects, First Officer Garak's personal body slave. Tucked away in his luxurious prison behind the locked doors of Garak's quarters, left to his own devices until his Master came to him again...of course, he spent those hours plotting, thinking, and projecting. In private however, the subtle power plays continued. Sloan could never quite reconcile himself to complete submission to Garak. A kind of "almost subservience" was about as close as he could get. Surprisingly, for his own part, Garak seemed unwilling to go the final yards to completely break his human's spirit. The fire he sometimes saw in Sloan's eyes, the little flashes of anger and rebellion seemed to amuse him. Garak was, from what he said, not used to a pet that bit back, and it made things so much more entertaining. Often, after Garak had finished fucking him, he would draw back and sit next to the human on the bed. Watching his tense and unsatisfied slave try to bring himself under some semblance of control. Then he would talk, running his fingers almost absently over Sloan's belly and thighs, occasionally brushing the back of his knuckles up the twitching erection. Keeping him hard, keeping him wanting. He would calmly chat to him about all manner of things. About his day, about his true feelings for the Intendant, but most importantly about his future plans. About his ideas for expanding the Alliance. It was a favorite game of Garak's. To make Sloan wait like this. Only if he was satisfied that his trembling, silent little pet had paid sufficiently careful attention would he reward him. Leaning down swiftly, he would take the human's throbbing member into his mouth and suck the hell out of him until he was bucking and screaming. It was the only time that Sloan WOULD scream for his Master. Of course what Garak didn't know, was that this act that he perceived to be just another cruel game of Master and Slave against the human, was in fact exactly what Sloan had come here for. In his arrogance, he assumed that as Sloan lay silently listening, his breath ragged and heavy, he was only thinking about his own needs - desperate for release. But the remote and dispassionate part of Sloan's mind, the part wholly owned by Section 31, was carefully cataloging every word his Master said. Indelibly committing them to memory. Garak was not always predictable however, as Sloan found out fairly early during his stay in the First Officer's quarters. On random evenings, with no warning at all, Garak would come roaring into his quarters after another day "watching the Intendant trifle with life and death," as he put it. Seeing his slave, he would immediately rush him, viciously snarling. Slapping his face and tearing at his fine clothing. Backing the human up against the bulkhead, the First Officer would glare wildly into Sloan's eyes, his face filled with hostility and suspicion. "Who are you?!" "Just a minor diplomat, my Master," Sloan would reply mechanically. He knew by now which way this would go. He knew his answers meant nothing. Drawing back his solid arm, Garak would ask him again, "Who are you?!" The first blow would rock him on his feet, but Sloan invariably managed to remain standing. He knew it wouldn't help him to give in too easily. Garak respected courage. Best to keep a little pride while he still could. "Who are you?!" Another answer. Another blow to the face, perhaps another to the body. "Who are you?!" He would be held against the bulkhead, feeling the Cardassian's hot breath hissing against his face, the hands gripping his upper arms so tightly that deep purple hand prints would be left behind in the flesh. "Who are you?!" A booted foot connecting with his thigh, sending him stumbling across the floor, tripping...falling to his knees. "Who are you?!" A solid kick to the ribs. A rough hand twisting into his hair, hauling him to his feet. Another resounding blow to the face. "Who are you?!" Blood streaming from his nose. The slick coppery taste of it in his mouth. Ears ringing, bruised diaphragm struggling to draw sufficient breath. Almost beyond endurance. A hot hand clamping around his throat. Blackness seeping into his vision. "WHO ARE YOU?!" Gasping, his ineffective human hands fluttering up the Cardassian's muscular arm, Sloan would open his swollen mouth and reply. "Your slave, my Master." Only then would Garak desist. Sloan would be pushed against the wall and left there, crumpled on the floor, barely conscious. He had learned to remain where he had been left on these occasions. If he tried to move too soon, he risked enflaming the Cardassian's ire again. If he stayed still, allowing his Master to regain his composure, then he could be sure it was over with. After a while, Garak would come to him and gather him up gently, carrying him to the bed. "Oh, little pet," he would whisper remorsefully. "What have I done to you? Forgive me... Forgive me..." Carefully, Garak would go over every injury with a regenerator, all the while making soothing sounds of apology and regret. Smoothing the sandy hair back from Sloan's sweaty brow. When all his bruises and scrapes were healed, Garak would pull him up onto his lap, cradling him tenderly in his arms. Then, he would reach down between Sloan's legs and stroke him, over and over until once more the human was arched back and coming. In these moments, Sloan loved him. Not because of any kind of battered spouse syndrome, but because in that instant, he could understand what motivated him. He had to admire Garak's technique. The sincerity of his apologies, his tender ministrations, were just as heartfelt as the beating that preceded them. They were methods that Section 31 had applied in their own interrogation rooms. Never be predictable. Offer kindness in equal parts to your cruelty. Make the subject love his torturer. If you could achieve the balance, your subject would be more inclined to tell you what you wanted to know. It could even get to the point where they would want to... just to please you. Sloan still had the advantage, however. Garak wasn't aware that his slave knew how this game was played. Sloan could appreciate how well Garak played it though. That was the dangerous part. There were times, when Sloan would be lying across Garak's lap, his body still shuddering from the pleasure of his orgasm, when he found he was very close to surrendering to this man. This enemy. He found that the line between duty and reality was becoming blurred. He loved him. He hated him. He was fighting harder with every day that passed to keep his duty to Section 31 first and foremost in his mind. It wasn't easy. Sloan had begun to see that his Master was a complex man, made up of many more facets that he had originally believed. As time progressed, he started to see the more introspective and driven individual within the First Officer's temperamental shell. When he wasn't inclined to playing games with his human pet, Garak could even be quite pleasant company. Not only that, once Garak had realized that his slave actually had a formidable intelligence of his own, he had begun, in his own way, to seek his counsel. Usually these conversations would take place after Sloan's Master had returned to his quarters for the evening. They took their meal together, Sloan of course feeding Garak's meal to him in small portions, as was his preference... more intimate that way. Only when the Cardassian had eaten his fill would he give his human permission to eat. Chin in hand, he would watch Sloan with a kind of rapt amusement. Once the meal was finished, Sloan would clear away the dishes and stand demurely to one side, awaiting Garak's orders. Invariably, the First Officer would take a moment to simply look at him. Then pushing back his chair, he would hold out his hand and speak. "Come to me..." There would be a subtle timbre in his voice at that moment. A touch of gentleness that would assure Sloan that for tonight at least, he was not going to be teased or tortured. He would always remind himself, even as he went unhesitatingly into his Master's arms, that he still had a job to do. Even as he felt himself being pressed down gently onto Garak's bed and slowly undressed, he would focus on keeping a small part of his mind clear. He would need it afterwards. It wasn't easy though. Garak had a way of leisurely looking at him, inspecting him really, with a fair amount of arrogant pride and honest admiration, as he did tonight. Sloan's own wife had never looked at him this way, nor told him, as Garak did in that smooth voice, "You are exquisite, my pet." And of course, Sloan would be expected to respond to this compliment with grateful ardor... so he did. After Garak had finished with this session of giving and receiving, after their breathing had quieted, after the echoes of Sloan's helpless, rapturous screaming had died away... then the real work began. Sprawled across his Master's chest, with Garak's fingertips tracing lazy patterns over the smooth, sweat dampened skin of his back, Sloan would prop his chin on his hand and wait. "She vexes me, pet." Garak told him on one such evening. Sloan didn't need elaboration. "She" was always the Intendant. Garak continued, "She vexes me because she has no consistency. She is far too excessive." Sloan found Garak's comments somewhat ironic. Garak heaved a sigh. "It's not as if she doesn't know my schedule. After all, she's the one who devised it! She offloads as many of her own duties onto me as she can in order to spend more time pursuing her `interests' and yet she still can't focus for any length of time during our conferences. If we are ever going to consolidate our position in the Alliance, she'll need to start paying attention. I abhor wasting my time like that! It leaves me quite out of sorts." It certainly did, Sloan agreed privately, and it was himself who usually bore the brunt of Garak's displeasure. "May I speak, my Master?" Sloan asked softly. The trailing fingers on his back paused. "You may." "You've said that the Intendant is easily distracted..." "You're stating the obvious, pet. Don't irritate me." The Cardassian's voice grew sharp. Sloan's first warning. He plunged on. If he played this right, his suggestion would make his task here considerably easier... and avoid those bizarrely seductive scenes of torture-and-reward. "What about giving her distractions of your own devising? Tell her you've arranged a diversion for her following each conference. With any luck, she'll conform to your time frame just so she can find out what it is you've done." Garak grew very still. Sloan could almost hear his mind working as he digested the words. "Are you suggesting that I seduce the Intendant of Terok Nor into behaving herself by offering her TREATS? As if she were some little Terran lap dog?" Sloan closed his eyes. //Shit! You went too far!// Suddenly the First Officer was laughing, virtually crowing with delight. He hauled Sloan up his chest and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. "What a delightful notion, my pet," he purred, "and so appropriate that it should come from you!" Sloan relaxed slightly. "Tell me," Garak said then, fingers lightly caressing him again, "how is it that you know so much about manipulating people?" Sloan answered very carefully. "My former occupation required a fair amount of political maneuvering. You had to be good at it if you hoped to move up through the ranks." Garak suddenly rolled, pinning the human beneath him, his hands clenching into his hair painfully. "You do realize, if you EVER try to use those slippery skills of yours against me, you'll die...don't you?" The Cardassian's pale eyes blazed at him. Sloan met his gaze. "I do, my Master." Abruptly, the Cardassian's demeanor changed again. Settling his head comfortably on the human's soft stomach, he resumed his leisurely stroking. "Tell me about your home again... where you came from. Tell me about your Earth. I like to know about you." So Sloan talked. He talked about his home, about where he grew up, his first job, what his parents were like. It was intimate, honest information that seemed to satisfy his Master's curiosity, and it was harmless information. It might hurt Sloan to talk about such things, but it did no damage to Section 31. He would reminisce endlessly on various aspects of his life while Garak listened intently, a rapt audience to the human's memories. Eventually though, the First Officer would decide he'd heard enough. He would effectively silence his slave by rolling him over and sliding smoothly into his body again... all talking over for the duration of the evening. Sloan began to wonder just how much more he could take. When Garak was feeling benevolent, his sexual intensity was very difficult to resist. There were days when Garak would lock himself away in his quarters with his human pet and quite literally smother him with sensual attention. Hour after hour he would touch and tease Sloan's body. Skillfully, almost lovingly, coaxing climax after screaming climax out of him. He seemed endlessly fascinated with the process, with the human's sensitivity, his artless responses. He would leave his pet sated and passive, ready to reciprocate in any form his Master desired. There were things that Sloan had done to Garak, with Garak, that he had never dreamed he would do. Acts of passion and lust that seemed almost animalistic in their intensity. What was more, he WANTED to do them. He wanted to hear the Cardassian's cries of pleasure, his roars of fulfillment. He wanted his Master coming into his body, into his mouth, over his skin. And so for nearly six months, Sloan had lived this life. This strange love filled hate filled enslavement to the First Officer. He was a prized possession, a mere lesser creature. A pretty pet to be both cosseted and disciplined according to whim. But the time had come. He knew that the First Officer was getting dangerously close to winning the game. The thought terrified him. Standing in the center of the opulent rooms that had become his entire world, Sloan drew the memories of everything that had been done to him here around his heart like armor. There could be no regrets. There could be no hesitation. Sloan would do what he must to protect the Federation and to serve Section 31. He would kill his Master. *** The guards found both of them dead the following morning. Curled up together naked in the First Officer's vast bed. Cause of death, internal hemorrhaging brought on by a massive dose of Zetacine, a readily available Cardassian poison used to control the station's vast Vole population. It just so happened that Garak had requested extra baits be laid around the walls and vents of his quarters. Apparently, his little Human had complained of hearing the vermin at night. It hadn't taken a genius to figure out what had happened. The First Officer's pet had poisoned him. Obviously, he'd also managed to poison himself too. After all, the Human animals weren't that bright. It was a pity though. An execution would have closed the whole sorry affair properly. Ah well... Sloan hadn't accidentally poisoned himself of course. Section 31 Agents didn't make those kind of mistakes. They made decisions instead. Sloan had been particularly responsive to Garak when he had returned to their rooms that last evening. Feeding him little morsels of the special delicacies he liked. Pouring his favorite kanar. Garak had smiled at him and locked his doors again. Zetacine was slow acting. It was designed to be taken back to the nest, giving the most effective coverage. Every single thing that Garak had eaten or drunk had been carefully laced with it. Sloan had passionately seduced his Master in every way possible, with hands and with mouth. Begging the Cardassian to mount him as often as he pleased. Encouraging him to continue even though his backside grew bruised and bloody. He didn't care. He wanted Garak gasping and thirsty. He wanted him exhausted. He didn't want him to suffer. Of course, each time Garak came, him affectionate little Human would solicitously bring him another glass of sweet wine with which to quench his parched throat. Sloan could tell that Garak was pleased. Finally, the First officer's pet had submitted to him properly. He was ASKING for his Master's attentions. The victory was sweet, and plumped his massive ego. He had known it would only be a matter of time... Eventually Sloan had sat in the dark watching Garak sleep, seeing the light sheen of sweat break out over his ornamented silver skin. Seeing his breathing grow thin and reedy. Watching him die. Now would have been the time to make his escape. He had all the advantages with him. But...he couldn't go back. Tonight he had realized. He hadn't been pretending to want his Master's attentions. Somewhere along the way, at some indefinable moment, he'd started to need him. And now he was gone. Sloan did not weep. Tears were not for men like him. But his heart was broken, just the same. Strange...He really ought to have been pleased. So he made his decision. Mixing up a dose of enough Zetacine to wipe out a planet of voles, he drank the whole lot down from the same tainted glass that he had held to his Master's lips. Then, slowly he lay down beside him and gathered him close, resting his head on the broad chest. He fell asleep to the sound of a faltering Cardassian heartbeat. In the end, Garak HAD won. His human slave had finally given himself utterly over to him, and would never leave his side. END