The BLTS Archive - Variables & Variations:
Cardassian Lessons
by Mary K. (mkk2@csd.uwm.edu)

---
A Primer for Julian
---

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Julian, are you all right?"

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have?"  Kira looked truly surprised.

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

"Did he tell you that?"

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

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

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

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

"We make love," Odo said defensively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, something personal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

"Where are you?" she repeated urgently.

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked at him in astonishment.  "Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes," she acknowledged.

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

"Yes," she repeated in a whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without answering, Julian rested his tousled head on his arms.  "I
want to be with all of you," he said in a muffled voice.   "We don't
all want to be with each other," Kira said disagreeably.

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

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

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

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

"But I know better," Garak smiled.

---
Some People Never Learn
---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

Nerys sat up.  "What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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


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

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

They stood stark still, staring at him accusingly.

"What have I done?" he gasped.

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

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


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

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

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

---

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

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

"Who?" Odo asked suspiciously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"In about two hours," Sisko replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Computer, override--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll do anything you ask."

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Take off the rest," he ordered.

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

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

---
Love Medicine
---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Remove it," he said curtly.

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

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

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

"Turn around," he ordered.

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not you," Julian said between ragged breaths.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?" she asked, frankly curious.

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

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

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

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

"Not yet," she countered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

"Dax here."

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

---

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

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

"Come," Garak's voice said curtly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

"But he told Garak--"

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

"He did before."

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

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

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

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

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

"I want him to," Julian breathed.

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

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

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

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

"Julian!"

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---
Be Careful What You Wish For
---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Call me Elim, Julian.  Please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh?"

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

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

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

"Garak?"

"They've been--"

"Lovers?"

"Yes.  Did you know?"

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

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

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

Jadzia smiled faintly and left.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Kira here."

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

"I'm on my way."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why?"

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

---

The door opened on a darkened room.  Denona felt vulnerable knowing
she was silhouetted in the light from the corridor.

"Dukat?" she asked aggressively.

"Here."

As the door slid closed, her eyes adjusted almost instantaneously, and
she was able to see Dukat standing in the center of the room waiting
for her.  With a flash of apprehension, she realized that he was
trying to put her at a disadvantage in whatever scenario he had
planned.  She needed all her cunning now.  With an effort, she damped
down her emotion and stood impassively, waiting for him to speak.

"Do you truly intend to leave me?" he asked finally, so softly that
she almost missed it.

"Yes," she answered firmly, knowing that to back down now would be
fatal.

"I would like to convince you otherwise," he said.

She was glad that the darkness would not reveal her astonishment.  Was
Dukat prepared to back down, to compromise to get her back?  She
couldn't believe her luck.  If she was smart, she could come out of
this situation in a much better position than before.  "How do you
intend to convince me?" she asked carefully.

He took a few steps towards her and stopped.  "I would like to show
you that Garak isn't the only one who can satisfy you."

Denona understood suddenly that Dukat had lowered the lights to hide
his own emotion.  Even in the dimness she could see his face contort
with embarrassment.  Finally, after all this time, she had affected
him and won a chance to bargain for her own future.  She even had the
opportunity to do something she'd wanted to do since she'd known him.

"Come to my quarters tomorrow," she said curtly, "and we can discuss
it then."

"But, Denona--" Dukat said urgently, stepping forward as the door slid
open for her.

She turned in the doorway and smiled slowly.  "I'm not in the mood
right now," she said, and then she was gone.

---

Dukat was not happy to be summoned to Sisko's office right after his
frustrating encounter with Denona.  He wondered whether his treatment
of the doctor had reached Sisko's ears.  He'd thought that Bashir
would be too embarrassed to tell anyone except perhaps Garak, who was
probably beating him senseless right at this moment.  It served them
both right, he thought viciously.  It was the only satisfaction he
imagined he'd get from the whole miscalculated scenario.

When he entered his former office, he noticed immediately that Sisko
was toying with a few Cardassian dataclips.  Dukat narrowed his eyes.
This was worse than he'd thought.  Sisko had actually found the clips
that he'd hidden in the containers.  Apparently the doctor hadn't been
sufficiently distracted--a second blow to Dukat's sexual prowess in
one day!  And a blow to his professional standing as well.

"Well, Dukat," Sisko began, "this is your lucky day.  We've found
something valuable that belongs to you."

"And what might that be?" Dukat asked innocently.  There was no use
admitting anything until he knew how much Sisko had figured out.

"Just some dataclips with important intelligence information on them.
Not the kind of thing you usually leave lying around."

"How do you know they belong to me?" Dukat asked practically.

Sisko laughed.  "Why else would you have been so intent on distracting
Dr. Bashir every time he tried to scan the containers?"

Dukat shrugged, trying to appear relaxed, but he was on alert for any
compromise Sisko might offer him.  The fact that Sisko hadn't
immediately jumped down his throat was already promising.  "Your
doctor is a very attractive young man.  Does he always report his
amorous encounters to his commanding officer?"

It was Sisko's turn to be taken off guard.  Dax hadn't told him things
had gone that far.  "Only when they affect the security of this
station," he said curtly.

Dukat laughed.  "You still haven't told me what's on those clips," he
said, deciding to confront his enemy directly.

Sisko's face darkened as he leaned suddenly forward.  "Names," he
said.  "Names of Bajoran resistance fighters, most of them respected
for their heroism during the occupation.  Some of them are dead and
some alive, and some are even members of the provisional government,
but all of them are named in this list as Cardassian collaborators."

"It shouldn't surprise you that we had quite a bit of assistance from
the Bajoran people themselves, Commander.  Some of them at least were
intelligent enough to throw in their lot with the stronger side."

"You didn't have this much help, Dukat," Sisko said angrily.  "And
even if you had, what would their names be doing on a dataclip hidden
in the bottom of a container full of medical supplies?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Dukat said arrogantly.

"You only get one chance here."  Sisko's eyes had hardened as his tone
grew harsh and intense.  "You make sure that nothing else like this is
found in the other batches of containers.  And, believe me, we're
going to look.  You can play whatever espionage games you like with
the Bajorans on your own, but don't use my station and my people to
achieve your ends"--he rose slowly from behind the desk--"because I
won't stand for it."

"I understand," said Dukat, trying to salvage the remains of his
dignity.  He reached out for the dataclips.

"Oh, no you don't," Sisko laughed, snatching them up.

"Why not?"  Dukat's puzzlement was real.

Sisko chuckled deep in his throat.  "You never even admitted that they
were yours.  Are they?"

Dukat thought.  "No."

"Then I'll hang onto them, if you don't mind."

"Suit yourself," Dukat shrugged, cursing Sisko, Garak, Bashir, Denona,
and the Obsidian Order operative who had talked him into hatching this
insane plan in the first place to repay an old debt.

---

Nerys awoke when she heard the door to Julian's quarters open and
close.  "Who is it?" she whispered.

"It's Jadzia," came her soft voice.  She walked over to the bed and
looked down at them.

Careful not to awaken Julian, Nerys let go of him and rose from the
bed.  Odo's soft liquid released her and entwined itself protectively
around Julian.

"How is he?" Dax asked.

"He's been sleeping for quite a while," Nerys replied, running a hand
through her short hair.  "He wasn't very well before."

Together they contemplated Julian asleep.  His face looked angelic and
almost eager.  His hands were drawn up tight to his mouth in a double
fist, and his eyelids twitched in some dream.

Nerys turned away, putting her hand to her mouth.

"Nerys?"

She spun around.  "Jadzia, it's all my fault."

"What is?"

"I whipped him.  Garak had everything set up, and I just walked into
it.  I beat Julian until his back was bloody.  He told me he was my
slave."  She covered her face with her hands.  "After all I went
through in the resistance, how could I do it?  I never meant to hurt
him."

Jadzia held her as she wept.  She had never seen Nerys cry, really
cry, before.  Remembering innumerable instances of holding a sobbing
child or spouse or lover in her arms from all her past lives, Jadzia
made small sounds of comfort and stroked Nerys's damp hair.  She
remembered lying close to her talking quietly after making love that
last night when Lwaxana Troi had tried to help Julian and Odo to
reconcile their differences.  It seemed as remote as one of Dax's
other lives, and she wished it closer, wished for some of the warmth
she had renounced when she had ended her brief relationships with
Julian and Odo, but especially with Nerys and Benjamin.

Unconsciously, she held Nerys a bit closer, and her caresses soon
became more intimate, moving from the hair to the neck and past the
tight collar of Nerys's uniform to massage the curve of her shoulder,
then her shoulder blades and the small of her back.  As Nerys's sobs
subsided, she relaxed, and her body molded itself against Jadzia's as
her hands moved up into Jadzia's hair, loosening it from the clasp and
letting it fall around her shoulders.  Before she knew it, Jadzia felt
Nerys's lips press desperately against her own and she let it happen.
Nerys's hands slid down her arms and gripped her just above the elbows
as if holding her prisoner.  Jadzia realized with a twinge of sorrow
that Nerys understood the fragility of their renewed intimacy.
Tomorrow Jadzia would close back into her aloof and lonely shell, and
Nerys would be left to deal with her guilt about Julian alone.

Now Nerys was pushing the uniform down over Jadzia's shoulders,
nuzzling her face inside to capture a hard nipple in her mouth.
Jadzia sighed and stroked Nerys's hair.  She pulled her arms out of
the uniform and let it drop to her waist.  Nerys knelt and pulled off
Jadzia's boots before lowering her uniform to her ankles.  When Jadzia
stepped out of it, she wore nothing but a pair of black briefs.
Grabbing the waistband, Nerys quickly pulled them down and off before
pressing her cheek against Jadzia's sex and embracing her around the
thighs.  Jadzia was moved to see how profoundly Nerys had missed her,
how completely she had hidden her need until this moment.  She
massaged Nerys's shoulders, undoing the clasp of her uniform and
coaxing it down off her graceful neck.

Nerys stood and led Jadzia to a soft couch, pushing her gently down
into its cushions.  She knelt alongside, kissing Jadzia ardently on
the mouth, probing deeply with her tongue, making Jadzia want to open
to her passion.  As Nerys pulled away, Jadzia rose a little ways off
the sofa to follow her lips, but Nerys pushed her firmly back and
settled her mouth over one of Jadzia's nipples.  The Trill was
overpowered by strong sensations echoing from symbiont to host and
back again as Nerys nibbled and sucked at her breasts.

Nerys's mouth moved yet again, travelling slowly over the expanse of
Jadzia's belly, lingering were the symbiont pulsed with excitement and
continuing down to trace part of the trails of spots that began at her
neck and ended at her feet.  The spots led down her sides to her
thighs, where Nerys lingered for a moment to plant warm kisses on the
tender flesh while she inserted her hand between Jadzia's thighs to
part them, stroking and mouthing towards the hot sex.  Her fingers
reached it first, barely touching the rosy labia that had swelled like
a flower to greet her.  Jadzia arched her back as Nerys's tongue
traced a last caress on the curve of her thigh before slipping between
the smooth lips of her sex to find the hard bud of flesh longing for
her touch.  Jadzia cried out and fell into waves of bliss.  Her hands
opened and closed in Nerys's hair.

On the bed, wrapped in layers of living warmth, Julian stirred and
grabbed convulsively at Odo's substance.  Odo solidified in response,
returning Julian's grip.  "Odo," Julian whispered.

"Yes."  Relieved that Julian finally recognized him, Odo partly
reformed.  "Are you feeling better?"

Julian sighed in response.  "How could I let Dukat take me like that?
And I asked Garak to beat me, but he let me go.  I thought he was so
cruel to send me away, but he was right."

Odo felt an unexpected stab of sympathy for the Cardassian, who had
let his fondest dream walk out the door.  "Then you ought to tell him
so," he said grudgingly.  "It couldn't have been easy for him."

"Odo, I don't know what I want," Julian cried.  "I need to get away
from here."

"I suppose you're right," Odo murmured.

Julian opened his eyes at the shape shifter's tone.  "Oh, I don't want
to leave you, Odo.  I've missed you.  I shouldn't have stayed away
from you for so long."  He caressed the liquid substance around him
and was answered by the familiar thrill-- partly Odo's response and
partly his own feelings mirrored back at him.  Wanting to expose more
skin to the shape shifter's touch, he started to open his uniform.
Odo formed tendrils to help him ease off his clothes until he lay
naked, floating on Odo's surface.  "Wasn't Nerys here?" he asked
suddenly.

"There."  Odo turned him so that he could see Jadzia and Nerys lying
asleep together on his sofa.  Both were naked.  The sight moved him to
smile.  He lay on his stomach, burying his hands in Odo and resting
the whole front of his body against the warm and living mass.  "Nerys
feels guilty for what she did to you," Odo remarked, feeling that
Julian ought to know.

"I wish I'd let her talk to me about it," Julian whispered sadly.
"She needed to talk, but I pushed her away."

"You did the same thing to me."

"I'm sorry, Odo.  I wasn't sure what I felt.  I didn't want to talk
about what happened because I'd enjoyed it in a strange sort of way,
but I also felt betrayed.  I kept having dreams about being condemned
to death where you, Nerys, and Garak were my executioners.  I suppose
I was blaming you instead of facing what happened.  I still can't face
it."

Odo rippled around him, and Julian felt his remorse and his love.
"You ought to go away then.  You need some time by yourself.  Go to
Risa," he added generously.

Julian laughed softly.  "You hate Risa, Odo, and I'm not really in the
mood.  I think I'll go to Bajor where you can visit me.  I need some
time to work things out with you, too."

Odo rippled again and tightened his embrace.  Julian's skin started to
tingle with arousal.  His erection swelled into Odo's substance, which
swirled around it excitedly.  Julian mouthed and licked him, drawing
his hands slowly through the smooth mass and feeling it respond
deliciously.  Aware that Odo was gradually tightening around him,
Julian thrust into him, sending whirlwinds of sensation through Odo's
mass that echoed back up the length of his body as sparks of pleasure.
Over and over he thrust, lifting himself into a sort of delirium, and
still his feelings reverberated from his lover's substance to his own
sensitive skin.

"Odo," he said, and it was almost a summons.  "Odo, I need you.  I
need you to love me."

Beyond human speech now, Odo spoke as a wave speaks, sending its
charge of currents and droplets and foam to break against the shore
and leave it irrevocably changed.  Julian absorbed Odo's answer and
his need before breaking in his turn.  Embracing the wave that
trembled around him, he fell into ecstasy, driving his own liquid
essence into Odo's body where it was accepted and absorbed.

Julian reposed calmly on Odo's surface, all confusion put aside for
the moment.  At least now he knew what he needed to do, and he knew
that Odo still wanted him.  No matter what else happened he hadn't
destroyed that.  Garak was another matter--one he didn't want to think
about for the moment.

---

"Yes, doctor?"  Sisko's hooded eyes regarded him impassively.

"Sir, I'd like to request a month's leave.  To be taken on Bajor,
Sir."  Despite his initial confidence about being accepted, Julian
felt suddenly self-conscious.

Sisko sat back and steepled his fingers.  "I've heard something of
your troubles, doctor."

"You have?"  Julian swallowed.

Sisko smiled kindly at his discomfiture.  "Not too much, doctor.  Just
enough to know that you need to get away."  Julian relaxed just a bit.
"And to know that you've been letting your personal life interfere
with your duty."

"Yes, sir," Julian agreed fervently.

"Why do you suppose that's happened, Julian?"  Sisko leaned forward
and showed him a friendly expression.  "It's never happened before."

Julian swallowed again.  "It's hard to say, sir, but I suppose it's
because of Garak."

"Garak?"  Sisko couldn't prevent himself from smiling a bit
suggestively.

Julian blushed.  "Yes, commander.  He and I were--that is, we..."

Sisko waved a hand dismissively.  "I understand," he said.  "Go on."

"We had strong feelings for each other but we didn't work our
differences out.  I didn't know how much it would affect me."  Julian
looked so rueful that Benjamin didn't dare to interrupt him--he'd been
there, and not so long ago.  "We wanted different things, and we
misunderstood each other."

"And you think that a month off would help you come to terms with
things?"

"Yes, sir."

Sisko paused for effect; he'd already made up his mind.  "Very well,
Julian," he said quietly.  "Go to Bajor.  Figure things out."

"Thank you, sir."  The relief in Julian's voice was palpable.

"But, doctor..."

"Yes?"

"Be sure that everything is worked out before you return.  I can't
have things like this happening on my station."

Julian nodded eagerly.  "I will, sir.  All I need is some time alone."

"Dismissed."  As Sisko watched him go, he thought back to his own days
as a passionate and confused young officer.  Well, maybe not as open
about his passion, and maybe not as confused, but he understood that
feeling of despair that life, and especially love, was a tangled web.
Given the time, he knew that Bashir would work things out.

---
Fight Fire with Fire
---

Garak sat morosely in the Replimat, wondering if he already knew what
he'd be doing for the rest of his life: sitting here, drinking sweet
Tarkalian tea and bitterly regretting one or another act of his past,
acts that he'd never get a chance to undo now.  He had been willing to
leave everything behind him, to forgo any hope of ever seeing
Cardassia again, if only he could have Julian.  But things hadn't
worked out that way.  He and Julian were too different.  He had
thought that they wanted the same thing, but their disastrous
relationship had turned out to be one of those cultural
misunderstandings fed by wishful thinking and lust.  After all the
passion and the pain, that's what it boiled down to.  And if Garak
hadn't been sure of that, Julian's message, text only, sent from the
surface of Bajor, had made it more than clear.

"You were right to release me.  I never want to be your slave again."

The "right," with its meager comfort, was overturned and vanquished by
the starkness of that "never"--never _yours_ again...

Garak had thought at the time that he was right to send Julian away
from him, although the temptation to keep him had been strong.  But
now, with the finality of that message, second thoughts crept
treacherously into his mind.  What would have happened if he'd done as
Julian asked, if he'd enslaved the young human, given him exactly what
he'd finally begged for in his weakness?  Would Julian's spirit have
been irreparably broken, or would they have scaled new heights
together and somehow forged a true bond?   Those were dangerous
thoughts, and Garak pushed them away.  His tea had grown cold while
he'd sat there like an old man mulling over his failures.  He'd stayed
too long.  The lunch crowd was beginning to fill the Replimat.  If he
didn't leave soon, he took the risk of running into Dr. Bashir
himself, something he desperately wished to avoid.  It was strange how
sentimental and confused he'd become since his encounter with Denona.
He still dreamt of subjugating Bashir with an iron hand, yet he knew
in his heart that he could never again enjoy doing anything that the
good doctor didn't really want.

As he rose, he thought about his brief glimpse of Bashir when the
doctor had returned to the station a few days before.  The young man
had looked fit, well-rested, more desirable than ever, his golden skin
glowing with health.  His month-long stay on Bajor had obviously done
him good.  Garak had ducked into a shop until the doctor passed.  He
looked happy walking along the Promenade talking with Odo, Kira, and
Dax, who had all visited him on Bajor.  There was no use clouding
those brilliant eyes with a sight that would bring bad memories.

And now as Garak turned to leave after putting his teacup into the
recycler, he saw Julian himself standing at the entrance to the
Replimat and craning his neck, looking for someone, probably a dabo
girl or a lucky young visitor to the station.  Garak stepped behind
the replicators and slipped out the other side.  Fortunately, the
doctor hadn't seen him, but it had been too close a call.  Perhaps he
should consider giving up the Replimat altogether for a while.

"Garak!"  He heard his name faintly through the crowd noise and
thought it must be a customer who wanted something.  His recent
thoughts made him want to believe it was Julian's voice, but he knew
better than that.  Julian had learned to do without him on Bajor, just
as he somehow had to learn to do without Julian.  It was probably
Ensign Tull from Engineering, whose pants were supposed to be ready
last week.  That pest seemed to pop up wherever he went these days.
Garak quickened his pace and started down the stairs.  If customers
wanted to talk to him, they'd have to come to the shop--he didn't
conduct business on the Promenade.  Steps clattered behind him.  As he
reached the bottom, a hand clapped down on his hard shoulder.  He
shook it off and turned viciously to face his tormenter.

"Ensign, I thought I told you--"

Julian stood there wearing a wry smile.  "They haven't demoted me just
for taking a month of leave," he said.  "It's still Lieutenant."

"Excuse me, doctor," Garak said, hiding his emotion under a snarl.  "I
thought you were someone else."

"Obviously," Julian said smugly.  "I wondered why you'd been avoiding
me.  Have you replaced me already?"   A few people pushed by them on
the stairs.  Garak wondered angrily why Bashir was taunting him in
public like this.  Was public embarrassment his idea of revenge?
Better get it over with then.  "What can I do for you, doctor?" he
growled.

Bashir shrugged insolently.  "You're a tailor, aren't you, Garak?
Just think of me as a customer.  Can we go to your shop and talk?"

Fuming silently, Garak led the way, opening the door and making a
point of leaving it open behind him.  "Now, doctor, any reproach you
can come up with I've probably already thought of myself.  But say
what you have to say and then please go."

Julian took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "Don't you think I
have a right to reproach you, Garak?  You sold me to your worst
enemy."

Garak bared his teeth.  "I never meant for him to take you," he said
defensively.  "You decided to submit."

Julian laughed.  "He was about to take me by force--he had me tied to
the bed.  I was taking control of the situation in the only way I
could."

"That's hypocritical, doctor."

Julian considered.  "I suppose it sounds that way.  But the point is
that I had no real choice.  I could either let him take me bound or
not.  True, I didn't have to do some of the things I did, but I got a
perverse pleasure out of manipulating him and getting back at you at
the same time.  I ended up enjoying it too much.  Then I felt so
humiliated that I wanted you to take responsibility for what I'd
done."

"By punishing you."

"Yes."

Garak thought for a moment.  "If you want an apology, doctor, then
here it is: I'm sorry for selling you to Dukat, as you put it.  I
wanted his young lieutenant, and those were the terms of the bargain.
I should have known he wouldn't hesitate to rape you if you refused
him but, frankly, I was thinking mainly of myself.  If you'll
remember, you and I weren't exactly on good terms at the time."  Garak
shrugged and indicated the open door.  "And now, my dear doctor, I
doubt that we have anything more to discuss."  So far he had managed
to hold his anger up as a barrier between them, but he wasn't sure how
much longer he could sustain it.

Julian stayed where he was.  "I think we have quite a bit to discuss,"
he said, pouting.  "I thought you'd come to see me when I got back to
the station.  Why are you so angry at me, Garak?  What did I do to
you?"

Garak laughed bitterly.  _What did you do to me?_ he thought.  _You
gave me everything I wished for just at the moment when I realized I
couldn't have it._  He turned away to hide his face.  "Nothing,
doctor.  You did nothing to me."

"Garak, I spent a lot of time thinking when I was on Bajor," Julian
began in a gentler tone, "and I thought about you.  I missed you.  I
hoped that we might still have something in common."

"How nice," Garak sneered, furious that such a trivial statement could
break down his resistance and give him a sudden, raging erection.
_Next he'll ask if we can still be friends,_ Garak thought, as longing
flooded his chest and began to erode his defenses.

Julian snorted with laughter.  "Oh, I don't know if it was 'nice.'
Our relationship was never 'nice.'  That's one of the things I liked
about it.  I enjoyed the danger, the risk.  I liked never knowing what
you'd do next--never knowing what _I'd_ do next, for that matter."

Garak turned back to him, not caring if Julian noticed his erection,
but suddenly desperate to get the doctor out of here before he lost
control completely.  "Our desires were too different.  I wanted you to
resist me so I could finally vanquish you, and you seemed to enjoy the
struggle, too.  But you asked me to hold back while you played out
your fantasies with Major Kira.  I thought you needed a real
punishment to give you some respect for me, but I didn't know that
your final submission might destroy you.  As your message from Bajor
made abundantly clear, you don't want to be my slave.  Or have you
changed your mind?"

Julian's face grew pale and set.  "No.  I don't want to be owned or
broken.  I'll never let you do that again."  The stark reality of that
refusal twisted like a knife in Garak's gut.

"Then we've reached an impasse.  You have to go now," Garak said
abruptly.  He walked towards the door of the shop to show the doctor
out, but Julian got to the panel first.  Using the manual controls, he
closed and locked the door.

"That's not the only way to do things, Garak," he said firmly, "and
you know it."

They looked at each other steadily.  Garak was afraid that if he moved
a muscle he'd take Julian's body into his strong hands and bend it to
his desire.

"What do you want, doctor?" he asked carefully.

"Garak, you're a tailor," Julian said again with an odd smile.  "You
wouldn't throw a customer out into the Promenade, would you?  I've
actually come here to try on a suit."

"A suit?"  Garak looked at him as if he were crazy.

"A suit.  You know, that thing you say everyone wears.  That
indispensable article of clothing you're always trying to get me to
buy.  A few months ago, you said you had one for me.  It was quite
nice, actually, but for some reason I never got to try it on."

"As a matter of fact, I still have it," Garak said, remembering,
trying to concentrate on anything but his desperate craving to crush
Julian against his chest and devour his mouth.  "Would you like to see
it?"

"Bring it to me in the dressing room," Julian ordered. It was a relief
and a bereavement when Julian disappeared behind the curtains.  Garak
took several deep breaths.  Where was that damned suit?  He found it,
and even gave it a few swipes with the steamer when all he wanted to
do was send the doctor away so he could touch himself and try to get
rid of this torment.

He handed the suit roughly through the curtains, trying to imagine
that some other customer was in there.  "Here you are, Sir," he said
ironically.

"Come in, tailor" came Julian's soft voice.  He didn't take the suit.

"When you have it on I'll come in and measure you for alterations."
Holding the suit at arm's length through the curtains, Garak shook it
impatiently and wondered why Bashir hadn't taken it from him yet.  To
his own disgust, Garak realized that he was afraid, afraid of what
would happen when he had to touch Julian.

"Measure me now."  Julian's hand grabbed Garak's wrist, pulling him
through the curtains.  The suit on its hanger crumpled to the floor.

Julian was naked, erect, holding Garak's wrist in one hand and a tape
measure in the other.  "Here you are," he said simply.  He draped the
tape over his hard cock and folded his arms to wait, smirking.

Garak looked down at Julian's glory.  It was hard and pulsing, creamy
on the shaft and ruby tipped.  He dropped to his knees and took the
tape into his trembling hands.  "Julian," he sighed, sliding his arms
around the young man's waist and pressing his face against the
hardness in front to breathe in the familiar musky scent.

"Calling me by my first name?  So familiar!  Don't forget to measure
me, tailor," Julian ordered, his voice deepening with arousal.

Moved, full of sudden, wild joy at his amazing luck, Garak started to
go along with the game.  He wrapped the tape around Julian's waist.
"Twenty-eight inches.  You're staying fit, I see, Sir."  The tape slid
forward.  "Seven and three-quarters inches long, two and a half
around.  Very nice, Sir."  Garak held the tape across Julian's
buttocks and pulled forward, forcing the doctor's cock to slide into
his mouth.  Julian gasped, thrusting a few times before he withdrew.
Garak looked up at him in surprise.  Bashir's face was flushed with
desire.  He grabbed the tape measure with both hands and put his
wrists together, holding them out imploringly towards the tailor.

"You forgot this measurement."  Standing, Garak took the tape and
bound Julian's wrists swiftly together.  Turning him around, he lifted
the tape over a large hook in the wall.  Although Julian could easily
have slipped it off again, he closed his eyes and sighed with abandon
as Garak's hands and mouth roamed freely over his smooth body.  He
felt Garak's fingers stroking the hollow under his arms, then moving
down over his ribs to his taut belly.  Hot bites and kisses walked a
trail down his back.  Garak's impossibly warm tongue squirmed over his
chocolate nipples, making him writhe and thrust blindly forward to be
caught and stroked by Garak's sure hand.  Garak's other hand slipped
into the cleft between his buttocks to probe lightly at his tender
opening, then withdrew to caress and lightly slap the velvet skin of
his ass.  Clinging to the hook with both hands, Julian thrust back
against his fingers.

"I want you now, tailor.  Take me now."

"All in good time, Sir."  For once, Garak wanted to delay, to savor
this unexpected happiness.  Exposing his erection, he pressed it
against Julian's pliant backside while stroking the young man's thighs
and belly, the smooth chest, and finally the rigid sex.  He planted
his warm mouth on Julian's neck and traced a line of bites to his
shoulder.  Julian's taste and scent were slowly driving him mad with
lust.  When Julian's knees began to buckle, Garak wrapped an arm
around his chest.

"Julian, he whispered, "I have no lubricant, so I'll have to..."

"In my uniform."

Keeping a supportive arm around Julian, Garak reached down to find a
small jar of lubricant among the folds of Julian's jumpsuit where it
lay on the floor.  He must have had it in his hand the whole time he
was talking to Garak on the Promenade.  He must have planned this,
wanted it, missed it as much as Garak did.  Garak spread the creamy
stuff thickly on his leathery cock.

"I'll take your measure now, Sir," he said softly, placing the head of
his erection at Julian's delicate opening and applying gentle
pressure.  Arching his spine, Julian pushed back until Garak suddenly
plunged inside.  They both cried out as Garak's first stroke lifted
Julian off his feet.  His bound hands slipped off the hook, but Garak
held him fast with one hand while the other slid firmly up and down
his cock.  Julian yelled incoherently as he erupted into Garak's hand,
splashing his essence against the dressing-room wall.  Garak's hands
grasped his slight waist and lifted him up and down a few last times,
pumping Julian's whole body on his pulsing hardness.

"Julian," the tailor groaned, investing that name with all the anger
and despair he was leaving behind.  With crushing strength, he
clutched Julian against him as his throbbing pleasure peaked and
subsided.  Garak staggered and dropped to the floor with the doctor on
top of him.

"You came back to me," he sighed.

Julian hummed into his chest.  "I came back, but not to be your
slave."

"But you just--"

"It's a game, Garak.  It has to be a game.  If you beat me until I
bleed to make me say I'm your slave, then it isn't a game."

Garak's body still ached with desire.  He felt alive again, and
happier than he had since the very first time he had taken Julian in
the holosuite.  If playing along with this game would keep Julian
happy, then he was willing to do it.

"You're still bound, Sir," he commented, caressing Julian's wrists.
"I'll have to take you again before I let you go."

Julian smiled his assent.  "What if someone comes in?" he whispered.
"What if one of your customers, some rich Bajoran woman, comes in to
order a gown?"

Garak nearly pointed out that Julian himself had locked the door
before he realized that this was part of the thrill for his young
friend--imagining humiliation without actually suffering it.

"Then she'll see you being fucked by your tailor," he said, rolling
Julian gently onto the carpet and kneeling over him.  "Your
_Cardassian_ tailor.  She'll see you lying here in the dressing room
spreading your legs for me.  And you'll be so excited, so desperate
for me, that you'll beg me not to stop right in front of her."

Julian moaned as Garak bent him back and spread his legs before
greasing himself with more lubricant.  Garak slid in slowly, savoring
the rapturous look on Julian's face as he felt himself being
penetrated and filled.

"And..."  Julian tried to speak several times but failed.  "And she'll
tell everyone on the station."

"She'll tell everyone that you came in to try on a suit," Garak
continued, "and that instead, you...that you begged me..."  Garak
succumbed to the seductions of Julian's fantasy, pumping his seed deep
into Julian as he realized with surprise that he was suddenly starting
to understand this human penchant for fantasizing that had always
seemed so absurd to him before.

For Garak, as for most Cardassians, there was having and not
having--you either took something or you took steps to get it.  If
something blocked your desire, then you changed your desire, or you
suffered.  He had never understood how humans could live in this
twilight world between wanting and not wanting.  If you didn't want
something, why would you even bother to think about it?  Why would it
excite you?  But now Garak, who didn't especially want his affair with
Julian discussed by every gossip in Quark's, suddenly found the
prospect exciting--so long as there was no chance of its coming true.

He felt Julian pushing against his chest, so he rose to his knees.
Immediately, Julian slipped out from under him, grabbed the lubricant,
and stripped down Garak's pants.  "My turn, tailor, isn't it?" Julian
said breathlessly as he pushed hard into Garak.

"All right," Garak grunted, surprised.

"Call me 'sir,'" Julian snapped, as his strokes grew harder.  "I ought
to whip you for taking advantage of me, tailor.  When you deliver the
suit to my quarters, I'll consider what punishment you deserve."

"Yes, Sir," Garak said with an ironic smile that Julian couldn't see.
"I hope it will be as much as I deserve, Sir."

"It will," Julian answered, fucking Garak wildly until he pushed in
hard one final time and moaned with relief, laying his tousled head on
Garak's back.  Stretching his bound hands over Garak's head, he moved
them down until Garak lifted his arms to allow Julian to embrace him
around the middle.  With both hands he began to stroke Garak's
still-hard cock, pumping it firmly until he felt Garak tremble and
then slacking off suddenly, making him wait.  Again he brought Garak
to the point of weakness and then relaxed his grip, leaving him
unsatisfied.  With a growl of frustration, Garak started to reach for
Julian's hands.

"Don't move, tailor!" Julian ordered sternly, "unless you want me to
have you thrown in the brig."  Although Garak knew that the threat was
absurd, he suddenly felt compelled to stay where he was and let Julian
play out his scenario of social dominance.  Belatedly he wondered
whether Julian had always been excited by the thought of being
mastered by a "simple tailor," a persona that Garak had adopted
half-ironically to give himself an air of intrigue.  Now the "simple
tailor" was being punished by the customer he had just fucked on the
dressing room floor where anyone on the station could have walked in
and seen them...

Julian was concentrating on the less-sensitive ridges that covered
Garak's shaft, running his fingers along them but avoiding the glans
and the foreskin.  The tailor was in a state of desperation now--his
hands and knees could barely support him.  He felt helpless, mastered,
placed at Julian's mercy.  He could only thrust at the empty air and
beg for Julian to grant him release.

"Please, Sir," he gasped, trying to rub against Julian's hands.
"Don't make me wait!"

"All you had to do was ask, tailor," Julian whispered arrogantly as he
squeezed and bore down in a few powerful strokes.  Garak's body
trembled wildly as his silvery essence gushed over Julian's hands.  He
collapsed on his side, taking Julian down with him.  Untying the
tattered tape measure, he let the doctor withdraw his arms before
rolling on his back and pulling Julian on top of him.  Their sated
bodies settled together comfortably, as if they had never been apart.

Why, by the gods, had that silly game been so satisfying?  Once
before, Garak had tried to conform to Julian's desire that they meet
as equals, but the restriction had been imposed, not agreed to.  Soon
it had begun to chafe, and before long they were back in the same old
impasse.  This time had been different.

Although Julian's games seemed very tame by Garak's standards, he was
starting to understand that they were still full of risks.  That's
what Major Kira had understood, while Garak, for all his experience,
had missed it.  What a strange sensation, feeling mastered without
anger, without feeling compelled to plot his revenge.  He would find
more attractions in these little games than he had thought if he could
get pleasure from giving up control, as well as from taking it,
without having to strike back and prove his dominance.  Here was the
solution to his dilemma, given to him on a plate.  As long as he
remained within the bounds of fantasy, he could dominate Julian
without driving him away.  Was this the lesson that Julian had been
trying to teach him for so long?

Letting his thoughts wander, Garak lay contentedly with Julian's warm
weight pressed against his chest.  The delicious scents of sex and
satisfaction surrounded him.  He had to stop himself from too tightly
embracing this wraith, so miraculously back in his arms.  If he could
leave his old habits of conquest behind, Garak would keep Julian this
time.  He would learn to play in a smaller arena, stop acting as if
each sexual encounter were a contest for survival.  He would play
these tame Terran games as if they mattered--and they did, if keeping
Julian mattered--adding enough risk to spice them for his young lover
and giving Julian the chance to surprise him this time.

Swallowing his pride, ignoring what his old associates might think of
his apparent capitulation, he would take what he was given and resign
himself to his fate.  So what if he looked like an old exile, picking
up crumbs?  Against all odds, Julian had come back to him.  He would
not betray this fragile trust again.

---

The End