This is the obligatory warning for "PeaceKeeper Discipline" -- heed me now or be squicked unawares! This story takes John, Aeryn, and D'Argo in a direction I have not yet seen handled in fan fic: into the great and scary world of kink. Please read all warnings -- it gets rough from here.

Title: PeaceKeeper Discipline

Author: Aiobheann

Fandom: Farscape

Paring: John/Aeryn/D'Argo

Rating: NC-17

Status: New

Archive: Please archive at WWOMB; all others please ask.

Series: PeaceKeeper Discipline series

Disclaimers: These characters don't belong to me; Henson has that honor. No copyright infringement is intended...just smut. Story copyright Aiobheann, 1999.

Summary: A very extreme version of the "serious talk" John promised Aeryn in "Throne For A Loss." John has toppy tendencies that his crewmates are completely unaware of...until Aeryn pushes him just a little too far.

Warnings: Bondage, non-consensual Dominance/submission, violence, het and same sex sexual activity, S&M.

by
Aiobheann

Slamming her helmet down on the table in the maintenance bay, Aeryn flung Crichton a withering look.

"What? What did I do now, Aeryn?" Crichton asked, sighing. "Did I breathe funny while we were up there? Didn’t have the right look on my face or something? *What*?" He climbed down from the module, tired from hours of fruitless flying, hours of useless work that had not produced either a wormhole or one scrap of useable data. Tired of Aeyrn’s unending flow of demeaning commentary. *I’m tired of Aeryn and her shit*, he thought, feeling flayed raw by her sarcasm. *Woman uses her tongue like a razor blade.*

"Nothing, Crichton." Aeryn snapped, jerking her gloves off with staccato, sharp gestures.

"Nothing, my ass! You know, I can go up and gather data by myself now -- I don’t need you to hold my hand. I don’t know what you even bother going with me for anyway -- all you do is yell at me about every goddamn thing I do. What crawled up your ass and died, huh?"

She turned on him. "I did *not* hear that correctly, Crichton, and I would advise you not to repeat it." she said tightly.

Something snapped. He was oh so tired of this, and this was it. This was the line. He felt an unfamiliar smile stretching his face. *Oh, fuck it*, he thought, *she deserves this. This is gonna be fun*. "Oh, microbes couldn’t handle that one? How about this -- why are you such a bitch?" He moved up close to her, invading her space, crowding her. "I’m sick of being your punching bag. It’s gonna stop."

"*What* did you call me?" she said slowly. Her hands fisted, she crowded him right back, face to face with him.

"Gee, are you hard of hearing? Microbes still not getting me? I called you a bitch. A cold, ball-cutting *bitch*."

Her hand drew back, her face pale with rage. Crichton caught her wrist before the blow could land, staring her down. "Ah-ah, none of that PeaceKeeper shit, honey. I fell for that once. It ain’t gonna happen again." She tried to twist away, lashed out with a foot that caught Crichton above the knee. Chuffing out a pained breath, he jerked her around, pulling her arm up behind her back. He held her away from his body, dodging her backward kicks and flailing free arm, leaning forward at the waist to speak into her ear.

"I told you if you ever tried that one again, you’d better make sure I didn’t wake up. You lost your chance, sweetheart. Now we’re gonna have that serious talk I promised you, and you are going to listen, I guarantee it."

"I’m going to kill you, Crichton!" Aeryn yelled, struggling against the hand holding her arm behind her.

"Maybe so. But I promise you I’m gonna get my point across to you first." He yanked up on the arm he held, and she could feel her shoulder wrenching, twisting in the socket. She stopped struggling, standing tense, back arched, waiting for him to make a mistake so that she could get loose and kill him. Slowly.

He laughed, understanding. "You just keep thinking, Butch, that’s what you’re good at. You’re not getting out of it this time, Aeryn. You pushed it too far, and I am going to start pushing back. I’m tired of being nice. This is your dance, babe. You bought it with that sharp fucking tongue of yours, and now you’re gonna pay for it." He reached around and ripped her comm badge off, stuffing it in his pocket. She opened her mouth to yell for Pilot, and he clamped his hand over it, muzzling her.

"Come on, sweetcheeks. Let’s go."

He half shoved, half carried her into the storage compartment, her fighting every inch of the way. Hitting the door control with his elbow, he locked the door, glancing around to make sure no mechanical eyes were watching. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the squirming, hissing armful he was trying to keep hold of.

"Aeryn, listen to me. I’m gonna move my hand off your mouth, and you are going to be quiet. Understand?"

She shook her head, and he sighed, pulling up on her arm again. She gave a sharp, smothered gasp, and then nodded.

Smiling, he took his hand away and triggered his own comm badge. "Hey, D’Argo."

"Yes, Crichton." D’Argo’s voice answered.

"I need your help, big guy. Can you meet me in the rear storage compartment on tier 14?"

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing. I just have a little --"

"D’Argo! This is Aeryn -- Crichton is crazy, he’s --" Aeryn yelled. Sighing, Crichton clamped his hand back over her mouth.

"Crichton? What is going on?" D’Argo said, sounding concerned.

"I think Aeryn needs a lesson or two. Like the other night, with Chiana, when she snuck up on us." Crichton said.

"Crichton, I don’t understand."

"I’ll explain it when you get here. Just bring me the stuff out of the drawer by my bed, OK?"

"Oh. I see. Are you sure, John?" D’Argo asked, and Crichton could hear the dawning comprehension and amusement in his lover’s voice.

"Absolutely. Hurry up, all right?"

"I understand." The frequency cut off, and Crichton leaned down again to speak pleasantly into Aeryn’s ear. "Don’t worry, babe. Help’s on the way -- problem is, it isn’t gonna help *you* much." She threw another kick behind her in answer, and he laughed softly.

<,center>PART TWO

"My, she does look nice that way, doesn’t she?" Crichton said, stepping back to examine his work. Aeryn stood on tip toes, hands cuffed together over her head and fastened to a ceiling beam with the rope that D’Argo had brought from Crichton’s quarters. Her PK flight suit was crumpled in the corner, and her pose, shoulders thrust back, body tensed to maintain her precarious balance on the balls of her bare feet, thrust her breasts out, nipples limned clearly against the taut fabric of her grey T-shirt. She still wore her pants, minus the belt -- which Crichton was drawing back and forth from hand to hand as he watched her.

D’Argo glanced up at her, his attention drawn by Crichton’s remark. "I never would have expected this of you, John," he said bemusedly.

"Why not? I always wanted to do this kind of stuff, but I never did. I figure, if I’m gonna be stuck out here --" He stepped up to Aeryn, drawing the tail end of the belt over her cheek and down the column of her throat. "-- I might as well have some fun." Aeryn stared forward, stony faced and silent.

"You know that she is going to kill you for this, don’t you?" D’Argo asked.

"I don’t think so." Crichton said thoughtfully. "She’s a soldier, isn’t she? Used to taking orders? I think half her fucking problem is that she doesn’t have anybody to take orders from anymore. She just keeps pushing me, needling me, goading me. Maybe she’s just hoping somebody will bring her up short and show her what the rules are."

He drew the belt softly across her cheek again. "Isn’t that right, Aeryn?" She flinched away from the caress of the leather down her cheek, but some of the angry light had died down in her eyes. "I think I may just be the one to do it, too. Answer me, Aeryn."

"No." Softly, not much force behind it.

"Really? Then why aren’t you yelling for Pilot or Zhaan or Chiana, hmmm? I think you don’t mind being right where you are."

Silence.

"Why aren’t you yelling for help, Aeryn?" The hand holding the belt slapped it gently against her cheek. "Answer me."

"Because I don’t want them to...see this." Aeryn said, in a low hoarse voice.

"Ah, don’t want them seeing the big strong Peacekeeper tied up, humiliated...don’t want them to see you being weak. Is that it?" Crichton asked.

That pushed a button, and she snapped her mouth shut, the heat and anger flaring in her eyes again. Crichton handed the belt to D’Argo, not even looking behind him, but confident that D’Argo would be there to take it. D’Argo took it from him wordlessly, startled by the sudden change in Crichton. This was not the Crichton he had thought he knew -- this man moved differently, acted differently -- behaved with a quiet power and assurance that both excited D’Argo and unnerved him. Here was a man that was not sure he could control, or own. Which was real -- the Crichton who existed outside this room, allowing D’Argo to be in charge, who had allowed D’Argo to cuff him to the bed and dominate him the way Crichton was dominating Aeryn? Or the man who was here with him now, this stranger with the deceptively calm voice who was tearing Aeryn down with his measured words and gentle violence?

Hands now empty, Crichton advanced on Aeryn again, stroking her cheek and down her throat, fingers chasing the same path he had taken with the belt. At the collar of her shirt, the fingers slipped beneath the cloth, stroking, smoothing, moving around to cup the back of her neck before winding into her hair.

"Aeryn?" Barest breath of a word, so soft and gentle. She blinked, meeting his eyes. The hand in her hair tightened, wound around into a fist, and yanked her head back suddenly, savagely.

"I don’t think you’re weak at all, Aeryn. You just don’t want this to stop. You want somebody to tell you what to do, don’t you? Admitting you need this isn’t weak. You don’t want to be saved from me -- I’m the one saving you. Aren’t I?" Still that gentle breath of a voice, kind and tender, while the hand yanked her head back again, a tear slipping from her eye, following the curve of her cheekbone. "Answer me, soldier."

"Yes."

"What? I didn’t hear you."

"Yes." She looked at him as best she could, head tilted far back to expose the pale throat where a pulse beat wildly. He released her hair, leaning forward to kiss the bared flesh, the touch of his lips dragging a low moan from her, almost against her will.

"Good. Now that we understand each other, I’m going to give you your orders. OK?"

"Yes."

"From now on, you will treat me with respect. No more ragging on me, no more cutting me up with that sharp tongue of yours. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what will happen, Aeryn, if you don’t obey me?" He bent his head to her throat again, kissing, nuzzling, hand stroking down the skin-warm cloth of her T-shirt, molded so tight to her breast, and pinched the nipple, rolling it between his fingers. She hissed in breath, eyes fastened sightlessly on the ceiling past Crichton’s head, face taut with the effort of keeping a scream trapped behind her clenched teeth.

"Aeryn? Yes or no?"

"No." she grated out, voice catching and dragging as the last breath of the word left her lips, unable to hold back a low cry as Crichton’s fingers tightened excruciatingly and then pulled away from her nipple.

"This is what will happen, Aeryn." He stood back from her, hands raised, not touching her. She sagged, partly in relief and partly in desperation at the loss of the overpowering sensations. Blood rushed into the swollen nipple and nerve endings awoke and raved with pain, worse than when he had pinched. She bit at her lip and moaned -- feeling shame for wanting this, for accepting it, feeling relief that someone had understood. Feeling fear that he would withdraw from her and it would be over.

"This will happen if you don’t obey me. Nothing. I will never lay a hand on you again, and *you will be lost*. No one to tell you what to do, nowhere safe to be when you can’t stand to be alone for one more second. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what, Aeryn?"

"Yes, Sir." A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Crichton went to her and wiped the tear away tenderly with his thumb, smiling at her.

"Good girl."

"D’Argo."

He had been watching the scene unfolding in front of him with such concentration that he almost did not hear John speak his name. When he looked back at John, his lover was looking at him with a closed, blank expression, lit only by the coolly appraising look in his eyes.

"What?" D’Argo snapped, feeling his face flush. His first, unbidden thought had been to echo Aeryn’s "/yes, Sir./" There was danger here, oh yes, of a sort that he never dreamed existed.

"The belt." John said evenly, holding his hand out for it, still looking at D’Argo, seeming to bore right into him and see that fear, the knowledge of the danger. "/Now/, D’Argo." he added, a touch of amusement in his voice.

D’Argo handed it over, and before he could blink, John had hold of his wrist with his other hand, lightning quick and with no hesitation. D’Argo was startled -- since when did Crichton move like that?

"Do you need some of what I've been giving Aeryn?" John asked quietly, a vaguely unsettling smile quirking the edges of his mouth. The hand holding D'Argo's wrist tightened, and even though John's hand was smaller -- his fingers barely spanned around D'Argo's wrist -- he was strong. Small bones shifted slightly under the press of his grip, and D'Argo swallowed thickly. Another time, he would have easily broken John's grasp, made him pay for speaking to him that way, for laying his hands on him. But he found that just looking down into the shorter human's eyes forestalled any thought of stopping him, moving away -- much less striking him.

John's eyes looked up into his, still coolly amused and considering. D'Argo found himself struck silent, unable to formulate an answer or objection. He found himself fearing John in a way he could not explain -- a feeling that was equal parts fear /of/ John and fear of /disappointing/ John. Or of angering him. He did not know why he felt so sure that angering Crichton when he was behaving this way would be dangerous, or exactly what that danger was, but he knew it, deep in his bones...and his quickly awakening cock seemed to be a part of that knowledge. A small voice in the back of his mind jeered at him -- he was a Luxan warrior, blooded and tested in battle. Who was this human that he should fear him? What could this human do to him that he could not prevent? /Anything. Everything./

John released him, still smiling, and D'Argo was shamed to realize that his other hand went immediately to his wrist, rubbing at the reddened skin as if he had been burned by the touch. John slipped around behind him, his attention fully on D'Argo now, Aeryn hanging from her bonds, forgotten for the moment. D'Argo looked up into Aeryn's eyes and saw her watching him, watching John, with sharp interest -- the first spark of emotion she had shown since John had wrung the fight out of her with only his voice and his deceptively gentle violence. He could see the drying tracks of her tears on her cheeks, and closed his eyes, realizing he could smell their salty tang above the other scents in the room: the sweet-smelling musk that must be her desire -- spiced with the edge of fear that he could also smell on his own skin, the smells so similar that they blended together like a barely-heard harmony; the sharper musk of his own desire, and its counterpoint, the deeper scent of John and his arousal. But no fear from John, just this heady, high smell of lust and the scent of the leather belt in his hands.

"D'Argo?"

The voice came from just behind him, close as a breath, and D'Argo started, realizing that he had been unaware of John moving behind him, so much of his attention caught by the smells of sex and fear in the room that he had relaxed his guard for a second too long.

"Are you going to answer me? /Do you need what I've been giving Aeryn?/" The last sentence, stressed word by word, breathed across his shoulder, and he shuddered again. He knew the answer, could feel it in the way his eyes lingered on Aeryn and her strained pose, arms cuffed above her and held, roped around the ceiling beam, her pale face with its hectic circles of red high on her cheeks. He could feel it in the blood thundering in his head and in his cock, hard and aching, his senses that felt both heightened and faraway. In the fear that he could almost taste in the back of his throat -- metallic and repellent and compelling all in the same swallow.

He answered the only way that he could, that he could allow himself to, even though he knew it for a lie. "No."

"You're not being honest with me, D'Argo. I can't let that pass, you know that, right?" John's hands gathered D'Argo's wrists behind his back, and D'Argo felt the slide of the belt as it was gathered around his arms, pinning them behind him at the elbows, felt his shoulders wrenched back as the belt was snubbed tight and fastened, his arms touching from elbow to wrist all along their length.

"It wouldn't be fair to you to let you get away with it. You need this, just as much as Aeryn does. No, don't tell me that -- " he shushed gently, his hand clasping D'Argo's jaw and stopping the negative shake of his head. " -- I know better. It's all right, babe. I've got you. You can let me do whatever I want to, because I know better than you what you do and don't need."

John stepped away, moving back from both of them so that he look at them and the tableau they presented. He watched them for a moment, considering. After some thought, he moved behind D'Argo again and took hold of his joined arms, pushing him forward, towards Aeryn. When D'Argo was standing less than a handspan from her, he jerked once on his arms, stopping him.

"Lift her shirt."

D'Argo turned to him, opened his mouth to ask a question, but then snapped it closed. He knew instinctively that he was not to speak unless prompted.

"Good, sweetheart. You're a fast learner. You'll do very well with me. Lift her shirt, D'Argo." John stood there, arms crossed over his chest and feet planted, watching.

D'Argo turned back to Aeryn, flexing his shoulders unconsciously, pulling at the bonds holding his elbows together. After a moment, he leaned forward, taking the hem of Aeryn's T-shirt in his teeth. She hissed and flinched back at the touch of his face against the lower swells of her breasts, the bare skin revealed by the lifting of the material rippling. D'Argo paused, peering up at her, and she relaxed, giving a brief nod to show she understood his unspoken words. D'Argo straightened up, the hem of her shirt still clenched in his teeth, and stopped, waiting.

"Good. Now pass it to Aeryn."

D'Argo cut his eyes toward John, question clear in them. John merely nodded. D'Argo leaned toward Aeryn again, lowering his face to hers as if to kiss her. Aeryn closed her eyes, swallowed visibly, then raised her face awkwardly to D'Argo's, her balance faltering as she stretched on the balls of her feet. Their mouths touched, and Aeryn's eyes snapped open, focusing on D'Argo's. She opened her mouth, teeth grinding slightly against D'Argo's as she searched for the material's edge, biting down on it and tugging it away from him. D'Argo released it, pulling back from her but not moving away.

"Very good." John's voice sounded both pleased and indulgent, and D'Argo looked down into Aeryn's eyes again. She stood still, frozen in that awkward, impossibly beautiful pose, the hem of her shirt clenched in her teeth, lifting it over her bare breasts, revealing them in a vee where the material was pulled in a taut arc to her mouth. He looked lower, unable to help himself. She trembled slightly, and her breasts, fuller and heavier than D'Argo had expected they would be, moved minutely with her trembling, nipples hardening from the contact of the material against them, barely brushing the hard nubs at the center of rosy circles.

D'Argo felt John behind him again, pulling him back away from her. John remained behind him, and D'Argo heard a sound, cloth slipping against something else -- /his belt/, his brain informed him. He felt John's hand come down on his shoulder, pushing gently. He started to drop to his knees, but John made a negative sound, still pushing him straight down until he was squatting. John moved around to stand in front of him, and he raised his head to look at him. A sharp smack, delivered with only the tips of John's fingers to his cheek stopped him.

"Eyes front."

D'Argo dropped his chin, staring straight forward at John's waist. Out of the bottom of his vision he saw John extend one foot, felt it nudge against one boot and then the other, shoving his feet farther apart until he wobbled on the edge of losing his balance.

"Stay that way." He saw John move away, move over to Aeryn, once again doubling the belt and drawing it restlessly from hand to hand. He heard John's low laugh, and realized, perhaps later than he should have, that John was just getting started.

"Aeryn, I'm sure you'll be familiar with what I'm going to ask you to do now." John said, reaching up to Aeryn's cuffed wrists and releasing them. Aeryn stared at him wide-eyed, bringing her arms down and slowly arching her shoulders, feeling the stretched muscles protesting. She began to open her mouth to drop the hem of the shirt she still held clenched in her teeth, and John reached around her hip to put a sharp slap on one side of her ass. The sound and sting were muffled by the thick military-style pants she still wore, but it made her leap up on the balls of her feet in shock, nonetheless.

"I did not give you permission to drop that shirt, Aeryn. Hold it up." She tightened her teeth on it, standing with her hands at her sides, eyes following John's every move over the material bunched in her mouth.

"Stand at attention." John said, and Aeryn immediately straightened her stance, throwing her shoulders back and stiffening her spine, bare feet spreading apart to shoulder width. John smiled at her, trailing a hand down her back and over her side, up under the lifted shirt. She jerked at the touch of his warm fingers on her bare skin, and he moved behind her, taking hold of her arms and folding them behind her, placing each hand at the crook of the opposite elbow. The folded arms thrust her chest out even farther, and she kept her chin level, face forward, eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

"That's good, Aeryn. That training of yours might be good for something after all." He leaned in to put his lips next to her ear, breath tickling her skin. "Don't move. Stay just like that."

He moved around to stand in front of her, admiring the total effect. "D'Argo, you should see what she looks like right now." He glanced back over his shoulder at the Luxan, noting with approval that D'Argo was still as he had left him, squatting with his feet spread wide and eyes straight ahead, not looking toward Aeryn or John at the sound of John's voice. "She looks so beautiful, so proud and eager to please. I imagined her that way, so many times, but I never thought she could do it. She's been so good, hasn't she?" No answer, of course, from either of them.

John brought up the belt, caressing Aeryn's cheek with it as he had done before, then drawing it down to tease her nipples with it, rubbing the folded end gently over the pebbled flesh. "Just a little more, Aeryn, and then you can have your reward for being so good for me, OK?" The belt drew back and slapped gently at the left nipple. Aeryn gasped, rocking on her heels. Her mouth opened in shock and John slid one hand into her hair, pulling her face toward his and making her look at him.

"Don't drop it, Aeryn. You hold your stance and you keep that shirt in your mouth, understood?"

"Yes, sir." she mumbled around the material, and her eyes squeezed shut as her words earned her a hard smack on her left nipple, still smarting from the first blow.

"I didn't give you permission to talk, Aeryn. All I want to hear out of you -- " Another slap to the right nipple. " -- is this -- " A slap to the left, followed by a sharp, moaning gasp from Aeryn. " -- and this." The hand holding the belt slipped between her spread thighs and pressed hard against her mound, lifting her up on her tip toes and drawing a smothered wail from her. John pulled his hand away, and Aeryn stumbled, immediately struggling to regain her balance and snapping back to attention again.

John smiled, lifting his hand to her face and dragging his knuckles over her cheek. "You're already wet, Aeryn. I could feel it, even through your pants. That's good." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek tenderly, then stepped back and looked at her for a moment. Then the hand holding the folded belt lifted, and he rained tiny, sharp slaps over the swells of her breasts. She jerked with every contact of the leather against her skin, reddened where the belt left its mark. Methodically, he covered every square inch of skin, until her breasts were a heated shade of dull pink, the nipples almost red. She rocked on her heels, moaning softly and continuously, the sound coming from her only broken by an occasional gasp as the belt licked fire across her painfully sensitive nipples. Her hands tightened on her arms where they were clasped behind her back until her knuckles were bone white, her teeth clenched on the T-shirt in her mouth, muffling the low keening moans she could not stop herself from making.

It seemed to go on forever, the slaps getting harder, faster, until she felt as if she were one single bundle of sensation that began and ended with her breasts. She lost all knowledge of the rest of her body, of thought, of any life outside this room and what it was like to not be standing here, tears streaming down her face, in flames of pain and pleasure.

Suddenly the stinging slaps stopped, and before she could process the unfamiliar sensation of the pain's absence, John lowered his head to her breast and took one nipple into his mouth, the wet warmth like a shock of electricty to her scalded and raw flesh. She cried out around the T-shirt in her mouth, feeling wetness bloom between her thighs. John suckled gently on the nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, and Aeryn felt herself teetering on the edge of an orgasm. John seemed to sense it and he dropped the belt, reaching out with one hand to grasp her hip, thrusting the other hand between her legs and viciously grinding against her pussy.

He put his face against hers, foreheads touching, and said, "Aeryn. /Look at me/."

Shaking, pale, nearly frantic with the need to come, to let go, she focused on his eyes.

"You drop that shirt /now/, Aeryn, and come for me. Come for me, scream it out, Aeryn. Do it. /Now/."

She opened her mouth, the shirt, its hem dark with sweat and saliva, dropping away, and threw her head back, wailing hoarsely as her orgasm overtook her and blotted out the world, exploded it. She rocked frantically against John's hand, riding it, feeling her juices spilling out of her and soaking her pants, his hand, lubricating the slide of her sex against the hard knuckles pressing into her. The last spasms died away, and she would have fallen if not for John's hand gripping her hip, steadying and supporting her.

He kissed her gently, savoring the relaxed, warm looseness of her body in the aftermath of her climax, and lowered her to her knees on the floor. He squatted in front of her, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. "You stay just like that, Aeryn. Keep your hands behind your back, sweetheart. You were soo good for me, you were just wonderful, you know that? You stay there, and you can watch what I'm going to do with D'Argo, OK, babygirl?" Aeryn nodded shyly, and smiled a little when he beamed at her in approval.

John rose to his feet and turned to look at D'Argo. He was still holding his position, but John caught him looking toward them when he turned around. He shook his head, walking over to hunker down in front of D'Argo, eye level with him.

"I'm a little disappointed in you, big guy. I told you, /eyes front/." He stood up, pacing around D'Argo in a slow circle, noting the trembles of exhaustion in the Luxan's legs from holding his uncomfortable pose. "I'm just going to have to figure out a way to make you understand that I mean business."

END
"PeaceKeeper Discipline"

...but there will be several new parts to this series, probably after the Thanksgiving holidays :)