The BLTS Archive-Insidious
by Deanna (sweetsorcery@yahoo.com)

---

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all that is Trek. Unsettling as it may be,
since his first scene, I felt compelled to write about Keevan, but I
won't keep him or make profit off him. In fact, the whole story has no
financial value. Archive only in the ASC and the Slash archive; anyone
else, please ask.

Warning: non-consensual slash and nasty mind games... consider
yourself warned!

Feedback: I'd love to hear from anyone who likes this, be it in
private or in public.

---

The Vorta, Keevan, moaned. The pain from his injuries was tugging at
his insides. He'd never felt anything quite like it and it almost 
scared him. But he wasn't easily scared, and his plan to lure the 
Federation doctor here was going to work. It had to work.

Meanwhile, he was bored.

"Third," he whimpered, waiting for the Jem'Hadar to stand by his side.
"I want you to bring the Cardassian prisoner to me."

"I will do as you say," the Jem'Hadar replied, turning to walk away
from the Vorta.

"Wait!" Keevan reached up with one hand, ignoring the pain that
movement sent through his side. "Don't bring the Ferengi. I only want 
to see Mr Garak."

Remata'klan nodded and left.

After a few minutes he returned, his hand clutching tightly at the
Cardassian's arm.

"Ouch!" Garak complained, rubbing his arm once he was let go off. "Is
it necessary for you to break something of mine? I was quite willing 
to cooperate, you know."

Keevan smiled. It sent a chill down Garak's spine.

"You may go, Third." The Vorta waited until the Jem'Hadar had left
before turning his attention to Garak. Lying on his back, staring at
the roof of the cave, he said, "I trust you and your friend are not 
too uncomfortable?"

Garak shook his head. He was used to dealing with unpleasant and
dangerous men, but this Vorta had a particularly disturbing effect on
him. "It will do," he said, eager to end the conversation and leave.

"Are you afraid of me, Mr Garak?" Keevan inquired, his voice as sweet
as honey and his eyes as sharp as the blade of a bat'leth.

Suspecting that he’d better not let his guard down, Garak answered
lightly, "No, of course not."

"Good." Keevan smiled again, turning on his side despite the sharp
pain cursing through his body. He looked at the Cardassian. He'd heard 
of him, of course. The infamous Garak, exiled from his home-world and
forced to live among strangers who distrusted him. Keevan was pleased.

"Why am I here?" Garak asked, his natural curiosity briefly winning
out over his dislike of the Vorta.

Keevan looked at him with interest. "You are here because I want you
here.” When the Cardassian gave him a startled look he added, “Relax,
Garak, I just want to get better acquainted."

The tailor had his doubts about that, but for the moment, he decided
to play along. "Do you really?" he asked amiably. Only someone who 
knew him very well would be able to distinguish the acid undertone. 
Someone like Julian, whom he dearly wished to be around instead.

"Of course. After all, your people and mine are allies now, and while
I know that Cardassia doesn't look upon you with affection, I presume
you are as loyal to your homeworld as every other Cardassian I've 
met." Keevan watched with delight as a range of emotions from surprise 
to anger to watchfulness passed over Garak's face.

"I apologize if I tore open old wounds," the Vorta said with mock
pity. He had clearly unsettled the Cardassian and was enjoying that 
power.

"It's quite alright." Garak moved to sit on a large rock that lay
against the cave wall. "I'm used to having my wounds torn open."
Whatever had possessed him to say such a thing to this despicable
creature?

"That sounds rather sad." Keevan's eyes stared at Garak, burning into
his with their mesmerizing shade of blue. This was working like a
dream.

Garak leant back against the cold rock. It made no difference. He was
already chilled to his bare bones. If only he could get away from this
prison. 'He would make an excellent interrogator,' he thought with
dismay.

The Vorta sighed. His pain was beginning to subside. He was enjoying
this game so much. He knew enough about the Cardassian's past to know
he was dealing with a possibly dangerous man. It made it all that much
more fun to watch him squirm. He loved the thrill of danger.

"Tell me, Garak, what is it about me that scares you?" The discomfort
that question clearly caused made it all worthwhile.

"I already told you, you don't scare me." The tailor shifted. "But
since I'm your prisoner and you're the one running the prison, you'll
forgive me if I don't show great fondness for you either."

Keevan laughed, devoid of humor. Things were going very well. The
Cardassian was almost clambering to get into his trap. "I hadn't
expected fondness. But since you mention it, what kinds of things
*are* you fond of, Mr Garak?"

There. Again he'd taken the bait. Garak was furious with himself. How
could he let himself be manipulated like this? "Nothing you would
understand," he said harshly.

Keevan's unusual features turned to stone. "What makes you say that?"
he asked, his voice not once wavering from its deceptive softness. 
"Don't underestimate the Vorta, Mr Garak. We are quite capable of
understanding "affections" even if we are not prone to them 
ourselves."

Garak shivered. He wished nothing more than to get out of this Vorta's
realm of influence. Eloquent as he considered himself to be, he feared
that he was no match for the vicious verbal torture his opponent was
capable of.

"I'm waiting," Keevan said. "What are you fond of, Garak?" When an
answer wasn't forthcoming, he continued himself, "Maybe the closeness
of someone you feel for? Maybe the safety of familiarity? Or how about
the touch of a gentle hand, stroking your flesh?"

The Cardassian had feared this and at the same time, he'd known it was
coming. The Vorta clearly knew of his own exotic appeal, which was to
an equal extent enticing and repulsive. He had to somehow steer the
conversation into safer waters.

"Those are things valued highly by most humanoids, of course, but tell
me about the Vorta. What is it you value?" Garak asked lightly.

With no intention to answer Garak’s question, Keevan smiled broadly.
"I see the subject makes you uncomfortable. But you must forgive my
natural curiosity about your culture. Humans are so easy to read. I 
find myself developing much greater interest in Cardassians."

Garak's jaw dropped. What did Keevan want from him?

"Garak, must I remind you that you are my prisoner?" Keevan's eyes
focused firmly on the tailor's face. "I'd like to have a pleasant
conversation with you, but you really have to help me. Now please,
answer my question."

"Yes."

The Cardassian was taken aback when the Vorta began to laugh. "That
wasn't so hard, was it?"

Only too late did Garak realize that Keevan had decided to take that
as an answer to his earlier question. "That was not what I meant, 
I..."

Keevan raised a hand. His face was serious again. "Yes you did. Don't
lie to me, I can tell."

They looked at each other silently for a moment. Garak was about to
ask how he could tell, but something about the Vorta's expression kept 
him silent.

"Garak, what is it like?" Keevan asked with childlike interest.

"What is what like?" Garak tried hard not to understand.

"These corporeal sensations you find so delightful. I believe some of
you even kill for them? I must say, it seems all very primitive to me,
but maybe you can explain?"

'Like a trapped animal,' Keevan thought, looking at the Cardassian who
didn't know where to focus his eyes anymore.

"I'm not sure how," Garak admitted. It was true. How could he explain
physical love to a race that barely allowed touch.

Keevan smiled benevolently. "I understand." But just as Garak breathed
a sigh of relief, he added, "Would you like to know what the Vorta
experience?"

Shaking his head too quickly and too emphatically, Garak felt the heat
rise to his face. He really didn't want to know. Or did he? His
hesitation to speak lasted just a moment too long.

"I will show you." The Vorta looked at Garak, his violet eyes holding
the other's pale blue ones. He would not allow him to withdraw from
this lesson.

Garak's head was swimming. His mind became unfocused. What was
happening? He tried to move, to stand up and turn away from that stare
fixed on him, but he was held in place by an invisible force.

Keevan was lying on his side, unmoving but relaxed. Whatever he was
doing required no effort whatsoever on his behalf.

Garak's skin began to tingle. Warmth rushed to his head, crawled over
his arms and legs, fell over his entire body like a vast blanket. He
couldn't help but moan. He had been so cold in this cave. The heat
felt wonderful.

Keevan smiled when he saw Garak's eyes close. He heard the faint moan
of pleasure and knew the tailor was his. This was a delightful game 
and he enjoyed it more and more every time he played it.

Garak felt the heat moving over him in waves. Rising and subsiding,
rising and subsiding. He was barely aware that he shouldn't be feeling
this way. Just a moment longer. Only a little more warmth and he would
shake off that gaze.

Keevan let his eyes wander over the Cardassian's black hair. It looked
so silky. And what a beautiful contrast to the pale skin and blue
eyes. 'Something we have in common,' he thought.

Garak felt an invisible hand gently stroking over his head. He opened
his eyes briefly, but the Vorta was still lying across from him, on
the other side of the cave. It had to have been his imagination.

Keevan held up his index finger, moving it downwards through the air
slowly, as if he was drawing it over a window.

Garak's head fell back. A tingle ran over his chin and down his neck.

Keevan opened his palm and held it still.

Garak felt pressure on his chest, like a hand pushing against him.

"How do you like it so far, Garak?" The Vorta's lips curled into a
cruel grimace, but the Cardassian hardly noticed. All he wanted was 
for the sensations to continue. He nodded.

Keevan laughed silently. Time to close the lock on the prison door.
His eyes explored every inch of the Cardassian's body - the elaborate 
neck ridges, the broad shoulders, the chest underneath that damp, worn
tunic. 

Garak's heart began to race. His pulse was throbbing in his temples
and the heat that shrouded his body was beginning to turn into fire. 
The skin of his upper body was tingling with sensations. His neck 
ridges were aflame.

Keevan lowered his eyes to the Cardassian's long legs, lingering on
his feet and moving back up towards his groin. He rested his stare on 
the Cardassian's hips, which had begun to move back and forth almost
unnoticeably. Ah, that was where to concentrate...

Garak sighed. Another wave of fire engulfed his limbs. It licked at
his legs, spreading all around him, until he felt as though he was 
sitting on a bed of burning embers. A human would have winced in 
discomfort, but for the Cardassian, the heat was wonderful.

Keevan's eyes rested on Garak's hands. They had begun to move towards
his groin gradually. He couldn't allow this.

"No, Garak!" he hissed.

The Cardassian opened his eyes, torn from his near-trance state.
Suddenly, the whole situation was so clear to him. This disgusting
creature was using him; he was performing a show for the Vorta's
amusements. And he had fallen for it.

"Stop doing this," Garak growled, shaken by the waves of pleasure
flowing through his veins, but Keevan shook his head, slowly.

"It's too late for that, dear Garak. I'm very sorry, but you will have
to endure the pleasure I intend to provide you with."

Garak tried to move, but he may as well have been bolted down with
steel irons. A plethora of curses came to mind, but he didn't want to 
give the Vorta the pleasure of his defeat. With determination, he 
focused on calming his body. And for a moment, it seemed to work.

"Why are you trying to deny yourself this?" Keevan asked, truly
surprised. "Is that some kind of sick ritual you Cardassians go
through? Denying yourself pleasure?"

Garak swallowed. "There's no pleasure in this for me, believe me."

"Really?" Keevan smiled. He blinked, before focusing his eyes firmly
on Garak's midsection.

The Cardassian moaned when he felt the heat rushing through his groin
and straight into the tip of his beginning erection. It almost burned
him, barely tiltering on the border of pain and pleasure. "I hate
you!" he hissed, gritting his teeth.

Keevan laughed. "I know you do. But I don't mind." That diabolically
mellow voice...

Garak's urge to touch himself was becoming almost unbearable. But he
wouldn't give in. Not to this demonic creature who had anything but
his pleasure in mind. He tried to distract himself by plotting his
revenge.

"What are you doing, Garak?" Keevan barely raised himself on one
elbow. "It would be much more enjoyable if you told me what you like. 
I can help you..."

"I don't need your help." Garak's voice was firm but breathy. His
arousal was evident in it and he wished desperately he hadn't spoken.

"Yes you do, because I can keep you suspended here like this for as
long as I wish." Keevan smiled unkindly. "But if you ask me nicely, 
I'll make
it wonderful for you, I promise."

Garak snorted. A promise... He was sure Keevan felt obliged to keep
his promises.

"I don't know why you resist me so much," the Vorta said with
exasperation. "But I like you, Garak, which is why I won't tell my men
to kill you for it."

Garak shuddered. The delicious heat was gone and he briefly wondered
whether he was free to move again. But apparently, Keevan had other
plans...

It was as if a thousand tongues were licking at his body. Garak sank
back against the stone with the force of the sensation. Some of the
tongues were like ice, sending shooting pains through his limbs, while
some of them were scorching, but equally painful.

The Cardassian's body responded violently, arching with the force of
his physical responses. His arousal was pressed tightly against the 
fabric of his trousers, and he hoped the Vorta had neglected to notice 
that detail. But no such luck.

Keevan looked across the flame-lit cave. He was excited by his
prisoner's torment. 'Almost there,' he thought, when he saw the bulge
in Garak's groin.

To Garak, he called out, "Beg me!" His voice was hoarse.

The Cardassian's eyes widened. Hatred was as clear in his face as
desperation. He needed release. Now. He fought hard to resist Keevan,
but his body betrayed him bitterly. "Please..." he whimpered, and he
heard the responding laugh.

Keevan allowed him to fall into the abyss. Every nerve in Garak's body
tensed up and then relaxed, the blood pumped through his veins, his
skin crawled with the rapture of his release, and when he came into 
his trousers, he screamed with pleasure, hatred and shame.

"Interesting..." The Vorta lay back, breathing only marginally faster.

Garak slumped against the rock. He felt terrible. Used, violated, out
of control. A Cardassian interrogation seemed almost friendly by
comparison. He hated Keevan. With every fiber of his being.

'Think, Garak,' he told himself. Still shaken from his recent orgasm
and surrounded by uncomfortable wetness, he worked hard on his
retaliation. 'Look at that smug little bastard,' he thought. 'He's had 
his show, now he's going to rest while I sit here feeling embarrassed, 
wanting nothing more than to strangle that pale neck of his.'

Keevan turned, his eyes able to focus again. Just as well the
Cardassian would never know just how much pleasure he himself had 
derived from this little "experiment". He would probably kill him for 
it...

With his cruel smile, Keevan asked, "I trust you enjoyed that, Garak?"

The tailor bit his lips. Forcing himself to reply with as steady a
voice as he could manage, he said, "Oh yes, I most certainly did. But 
I was wondering..."

The Vorta looked interested.

"Have you ever experienced this *my* way?" Garak saw to his great
relief that Keevan was intrigued. In fact, his strange, beautiful eyes
widened in anticipation.

"No, I haven't, Garak. Are you offering your services?" The Vorta's
soft voice took on a languorous tone. 

'If that’s an attempt to seduce me, he has a lot to learn.' Garak
stood, uncomfortably aware of the wetness in his groin, but he did his 
best to ignore it. There was something he had to do.

Keevan turned on his back, settling into a reasonably comfortable
position. "I won't be able to move much, Garak, but you're welcome to
try." He laughed softly. Did the Cardassian really think his primitive
ways held any kind of fascination for him?

Garak stood by the Vorta's side. He raised one hand and placed it on
Keevan's left thigh. The skin he felt through the cloth was remarkably
warm. "I'll be gentle with you, don't worry." Garak smiled.

"I'm certain you will be." Keevan parted his legs and Garak's hand
slid to the inside of his thigh, stroking up and down firmly. The 
Vorta's body was trembling ever so slightly.

"So you haven't done anything like this before?" Garak made polite
conversation. He was barely detached enough to control his voice and
despite the Vorta's treatment, he had to admit Keevan was rather
alluring. He couldn’t explain it, but something about him set his
pulse racing.

"No." Keevan's answer was short, mostly due to his breath being caught
slightly. This *touching* was unsettling. He wasn't sure whether he
liked it or found it repugnant. Maybe he'd just wait a little longer
before making up his mind...

Garak's hand moved upwards, cupping the Vorta's sex. His strokes
became firmer and he watched as Keevan's eyes closed. ‘It's working,’ 
he thought, enjoying being the one in control again.

Keevan's breathing accelerated. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be
so pleasant. He opened his mouth to protest the intimacy of the 
tailor's touch, but he found his mouth covered by Garak's. His lips 
parted in surprise, allowing access to the Cardassian's snake-like 
tongue.

'Delicious,' Garak thought, 'But I still hate you.'

The Vorta made a sound he'd never heard from himself before. All mind
control was slipping away from him and he was too focused on his own
pleasure and gratification that he couldn't consider asking Garak to
stop.

Garak broke from the kiss, letting his hand slide inside the
tight-fitting pants. His hand found a firm, small wand. It wasn't
erect as such, but it was immensely pleasant to the touch. Pulling 
down the fabric completely, Garak took in the silkiness of Keevan's 
skin and the intricate pattern on his sex, matching the ridges along 
his ear.

The Vorta moaned, trying to move into Garak's hand, but his injuries
prevented him. "That is very... interesting, Garak," Keevan gasped.

'It's far more than interesting and you know it!' Garak smiled. Nearly
there... He began to stroke Keevan's slowly growing erection, sending
shivers through the Vorta's unsuspecting body. As unsuspecting as he
himself had been before. Only - he hadn't been given a choice.

"Yes..." Keevan encouraged him, moaning under his breath, as Garak's
fingers played him like a musical instrument. This was even better
than to watch the Cardassian squirm.

Garak pumped him harder now, pushing him closer and closer to his
first ever physical orgasm. The Vorta was helpless.

Bending forward, Garak took him into his mouth. The squeal of delight
he earned with that action was unmistakable. Keevan was enjoying 
himself. As was Garak. For more reasons than one. He couldn’t keep 
pleasuring the Vorta like that for long.

"Do you want me to finish this?" Garak inquired rhetorically.

Keevan nodded emphatically, his eyes closed.

Garak tore himself away from that pleasing vision of Keevan at the
mercy of his touch. It was time. "Well, *I* don't want to." Garak 
stood back a step.

"What?" Keevan called out, trying to reach out for the Cardassian but
grappling thin air. His injuries didn't allow him enough freedom to
move. "You can't do that!"

"Oh yes, I can." Garak began to walk away. He could hear Keevan fuming
but he had to keep walking.

"My men will kill you!" Keevan called out in despair. His erection was
painful now. He didn't know how to find release by himself and his
anger at the Cardassian for leaving him like this was clouding his 
judgment.

"No, they won't," Garak pointed out, barely turning. "Because if you
called for them, they would see you like... that!" The Cardassian
smiled.

Keevan wasn't an unpleasant sight at all, lying there so desperate and
angry and naked.

---

The End