Program Initiated part 2/3 [Out of the Shadows part 3] part of the 'Latitude' universe by Galenn I don't want another drink or fight, I want a lover I don't care whether it's wrong or right, I want a lover tonight. I don't want another drink or fight, I want a lover I don't care whether it's wrong or right, I want a lover tonight. Tonight... --I Want A Lover, Pet Shop Boys The instant he was clear of the door his body froze. He heard the door slide closed behind him, and suddenly his body was his own again. He stood naked and semi-erect in a room that held very little, with the exception of a bed with various restraints built into it, a large locked chest, and a chair. He shivered slightly, the anonymity of the room and the obvious purpose of it affecting him far more than the temperature. A flash of something then -- the design of the room looked familiar. The furnishings weren't right, but something... _Mars? Europa? This is standard EarthForce colony prefab! Where the *fuck* am I? Did they ship me all the way back to Mars, and I'm in the -- oh shit...the PsiCorps reeducation center..._ He walked around the room, trying to find anything that could tell him where he was -- red dust on the carpet, signs of mud, anything. Of course, he found nothing -- instead found himself staring at the bed and its restraints, trying not to shiver in fear. The PsiCop had made it more than obvious that they were the ones calling the shots here... _Couldn't fight that son of a bitch at all..._ he thought uncomfortably, trying desperately to ignore the part of his mind that *wasn't* frightened by that prospect... He started to sit on the bed but got a good look at the restraints and shuddered involuntarily, backed away. As chief of security he was familiar with many varieties of restraints, and these -- these were not the kind one escaped from easily. They also weren't the kind of restraints used in b&d scenes -- these were *real*. Suddenly the skin on the back of his neck tingled and what little hair he had there stood up. His mind absently quoted to him, 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes,' and the door slid open, revealing Welles. The NightWatch official had changed out of his suit, dressed now in black trousers and a soft charcoal grey shirt which made a striking contrast to his pale skin and dark hair. He entered the room, letting the door slide closed behind him, then stared at Garibaldi appreciatively, looking him up and down. A hungry smile spread slowly across his face, his dark eyes sparkling with challenge. "Well, Mr. Garibaldi," he purred, "seeing you standing here, it looks like you've been working out a little since I last saw you on Babylon 5. You look...very fit." _What the hell would you know about it, bastard,_ Garibaldi thought uncomfortably, _you never saw me out of my uniform..._ However, he maintained his silence and glowered at Welles. "Oh, come on, Mr. Garibaldi," Welles said, taking a step closer, "I'm all that stands between you and the way out. And you're taller than I am." Garibaldi managed to keep his face schooled, but inwardly he shuddered, thinking, _You sick bastard, you *want* me to go for it -- you want me to fight..._ He took a deep breath and said, "C'mon, Welles, I work security -- it'd be stupid to equate physical strength with *height*. What kind of fool do you think I *am*?" Another step closer, "You're the one standing here naked, Mr. Garibaldi..." He shrugged eloquently, then whispered, "You're afraid, aren't you, Mr. Garibaldi..." Another step, "Does the thought of being so utterly controlled by someone frighten you? Or," he paused, eyeing Garibaldi's cock, "does it *excite* you?" He smiled darkly as Garibaldi's cock stirred again, then took another step forward and reached out to run his fingernails lightly along Garibaldi's collarbone. "You've got some kinks, Mr. Garibaldi," Welles purred knowingly, running the nails down Garibaldi's chest to his abdomen. "Being controlled by someone else allows you to--" A pause to move the teasing hand up to gently pluck at Garibaldi's nipples, "satisfy those kinks without being...responsible for whatever happens." Now the attention to Garibaldi's nipples roughened, Welles giving the erect nubs of flesh a sharp pinch to punctuate his words, and smiling as he watched Garibaldi's erection return. "You can claim you were forced--" Pinch. "Coerced--" Pinch. "*Raped*..." A savage tweak before he released Garibaldi and licked his lips at the sight before him. Garibaldi stood trembling before him, fury warring with fear in his eyes while his rampant erection belied his expression. "You son of a bitch," Garibaldi said, his voice a low growl. "Oh, Mr. Garibaldi," Welles said smugly, "You want more of what we were giving you earlier, don't you..." He ran a rough hand over Garibaldi's torso, smiling as Garibaldi squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. "You want to get fucked *so* badly." A pause as Welles stepped right up against him, soft silk shirt brushing lightly against his skin. The other hand suddenly grabbed Garibaldi's ass, bruising fingers digging into the flesh. "You don't want anything about this to be gentle, do you," Welles purred, almost laughing now. "You want to be grabbed, thrown down, maybe even beaten into submission..." Another pause to lick his lips, breathe in the heady fragrance of Garibaldi's arousal. The other hand moved to join the first, squeezing and kneading Garibaldi's ass, but not quite pulling him against Welles. "You want to be pinned down, my hard cock shoved up that tight hole of yours, ramming into you dry -- and when I'm done, you want someone else -- and someone after that, and someone after that, until our cum is running down your legs like a river!" Welles hissed into his ear. He could hear Garibaldi trying desperately to control his breathing -- trying not to pant or moan as he grew even more aroused. He smiled knowingly: Garibaldi had his moments of pride -- he wouldn't give in right away. Not until someone pushed the right buttons. "You are a *slut*, Michael Garibaldi," Welles purred, emphasizing the insult with another bruising squeeze of Garibaldi's ass. "You'll spread for anyone -- it doesn't matter who they are as long as they've got something thick and hard to shove up your sweet asshole." "Leave me alone, you bastard," Garibaldi hissed, opening his eyes. Welles almost gasped at what he saw there -- he was close. Very close... "You're a whore, Garibaldi," Welles whispered, lips brushing against an ear. He could feel the shiver that coursed through Garibaldi, felt the jolt of his cock. "I've studied your file -- you'd be amazed what we know about you. "You seduced your best friend on Europa -- managed to make him your lover even though he was married and had a daughter--" "Frank loved his family, you son of a bitch," Garibaldi growled dangerously. "I didn't come between them!" "Not until you got him killed..." "I didn't -- fuck you. That's got nothing to do with this," Garibaldi said with finality. _Hmmn -- that one almost snapped him out of it -- better let *that* lie,_ Welles thought, then he smiled and continued, "It taught you about the pleasure a hot cock up your ass could give you... "After the shuttle accident you fell into hard drinking. There were nights when you went into the bars and went off with anyone who wanted you. Sometimes you went home with them, sometimes they just lined up and fucked you right there in the bar..." Garibaldi frowned, but in the back of his eyes, Welles could see fear -- he repressed a shudder at the thrill it sent through him. _Not yet..._ "You don't remember, do you?" "You're making this up, you bastard," Garibaldi whispered. "Am I? We had people there, Garibaldi. We have people everywhere, and you know that..." Welles said with a smug smile. "You were quite popular -- the head of colony security whoring in the bars." Garibaldi shook his head, trying desperately to remember, but deathly afraid he might. "Bastard." "They finally moved you out of Europa -- despite your...tendencies, you were far too persistent when it came to digging into matters we wanted kept hidden. They were going to send you on to another colony when the Earth-Minbari War broke out. You opted to join a fighting unit instead of working another dead-end colony security job, and for a while you were too busy fighting and trying to stay alive while those alien bastards tried to slaughter us. "We don't have *too* many reports from this time -- I'm afraid we couldn't afford to have too many of our people on the front lines. However, I'm sure you had some 'fuck-buddies' in the trenches..." Welles smiled at Garibaldi's expression, once again angry as he found out how much of his private life was public knowledge. "So what? It's not like I was the only one," Garibaldi protested, trying to escape Welles' grip and realizing he couldn't struggle without more bodily contact than he wanted. _Which is the lesser of two evils, his hands on my ass, or trying to wiggle free? Damn, he's strong..._ "When you came back you needed something to do -- didn't want to think about what you'd seen in the War, so you tried to bury yourself in work -- and you started hitting the sauce again. Your veteran status helped you get the top security position on Orion 7, and things went pretty well for a while, until then-Commander Masterson transferred in..." He didn't miss the shudder that ran through Garibaldi, or the sudden leap of his cock. _Aah -- thought so. You're *so* predictable..._ Another knowing smile. "Yes, Commander Masterson... He must have liked you a lot, Michael -- private meetings in his office, late-night summons... I understand he used to force you down on his desk and fuck you -- had to replace an entire report once because you came all over it and the flimsies stuck together..." "Goddammit, Welles, you're twisting *everything* to your own uses. I sent a report in to EarthForce on him! He was abusing his position and harassing me--" "Then why did you put up with it for nearly a year before you reported him, Michael? He just got too rough for you one night, didn't he." "Damn you..." Garibaldi snarled. Welles laughed and started stroking Garibaldi's buttocks again. "Let's see," Welles said airily, "When you reported him, they transferred *you* out instead of doing anything to him -- did you know he's an admiral now?" "Yeah, I know," Garibaldi answered sullenly. Welles stroked the very tips of his fingers over Garibaldi's tailbone area and watched with amazement as his eyes went wide and his knees nearly buckled. _They were right,_ he thought as Garibaldi tried desperately to regain his composure. "From Orion 7 to Freedom City, where you again worked security, and fell even deeper into drink and even drugs. More whoring in the bars, so-called rapes in the back alleys -- you'll take it any way you can get it..." "Is there somewhere you're going with this?" Welles noticed the rising annoyance in his tone, smiled. _Soon, Michael, soon..._ "Actually, Michael, we're going to Mars, where you went after losing your job at Freedom City. It took you a while to pick up anything even remotely close to a real job, and the money for your habits had to come from *some*where. Our records show that you even signed up for some medical experiments -- 'let us test this drug on you and we'll give you 100 credits'." "I did?" It was out of his mouth before he even realized it. His eyes went wide with shock, then he rapidly schooled his face, knowing it was already too late by the look of triumph on Welles' face. "You don't remember at all, do you, Michael?" Welles asked, his smile darkening. He squeezed Garibaldi's buttocks hard and finally pulled him close, sighing as he felt Garibaldi's cock -- his erection had begun to subside again, but not completely. Garibaldi gasped. "Somehow I thought you didn't -- too much drink, too many drugs... Remember Harriman Gray -- sweet little telepath who went to Babylon 5 as military liaison?" Garibaldi blushed almost to his hairline -- he remembered Gray *quite* well after that night he, Sinclair, and the telepath had spent together. "Aah, I see you do remember him. He's very good, isn't he..." Something about Welles' tone sent a shiver down his spine. A memory rose unbidden of Gray telling him and Sinclair that sometimes the PsiCops *made* what they wanted. The implication had been that-- "Oh my god," Garibaldi whispered, fear gripping his heart. In the back of his mind he could almost -- *almost* -- hear someone saying something about conditioning. He shook his head, whispering, "No! It can't -- you're lying. You're making this all up because I don't remember and you think you can make me believe anything you tell me." "I'm not making it up, Michael. I have no reason to make it up." "Yes you do -- to rattle me, make me mistrust myself..." Garibaldi answered uncomfortably. _And it worked, you bastard..._ "Oh Michael, I don't need to lie to do that. The truth does it so much better..." Welles smiled, grinding his hips against Garibaldi. "You're hard again. That familiar hunger is back again, making you ache to be filled -- fucked..." Garibaldi shook his head even as he moaned, and Welles laughed. "Do you know why?" Suddenly Welles' mind was inside his, sliding in obscenely, making him feel it as an intimate physical penetration. //Because it's what we want, Michael,// he told him, feeling the sudden intense rush of arousal as the triggers were squeezed. //You get hot every time you see a PsiCop, don't you Michael?// No answer other than the desperate attempt to scramble away from the invader, and the growing hunger. //Part of that is your own kink -- you've always gotten a thrill from being dominated, and the edge of danger turns you on. A jolt of pain gets you nearly as hot as pleasure when you're really aroused -- you just crave the intensity.// Desperate denial, even as Welles thrust his mind deeper, into the darker desires, waking them one by one. _You're lying!_ Hanging on by his fingernails... Welles smiled smugly and asked, //Am I, Michael?// then jabbed a finger savagely into Garibaldi's ass. He could feel the flare of arousal, the hunger he knew would follow it burning through Garibaldi like a wildfire. "Am I lying?" he whispered in Garibaldi's ear, pushing him backwards towards the bed. "Tell me what you want, Michael." "You bastard," Garibaldi growled, "you've done this to me -- you PsiCorps bastards've programmed me!" He struggled free of Welles' grip, gasping as the brutal finger slid out of him. "You sons of bitches *did this to me*!" he roared, launching himself at Welles. _Aah -- finally,_ Welles thought, _about time you lost your temper -- *much* more fun when they fight..._ He ducked the wild swing Garibaldi threw at him and punched viciously at his side, staggering him with a hit just under his ribs. Garibaldi spun to come at him again and with a leg sweep Welles brought the furious man down. _Michael, Michael -- never lose your head in a fight..._ Garibaldi tried to scramble up but Welles growled, "Oh no you don't," and swung a foot into Garibaldi's stomach, knocking the wind out of him in a gusty 'Oof!' Then he looked down at his captive and smiled as he saw Garibaldi's eyes hungrily focused on the bulge in his pants. He slid a hand down to stroke his cock through his pants and asked, "Is this what you want, Michael? My hot cock up your hungry ass? Is it?" Garibaldi tried again to scramble up and Welles tackled him, pinning him down and grinding his hips against him. "Get off me, you bastard," Garibaldi growled, even as he arched up into Welles' savage embrace. //Oh yeah, fight me, you slut,// Welles' mindvoice purred inside his head. Garibaldi struggled in his arms even though the motions of body against body only served to increase his arousal. Welles could feel the panic taking Garibaldi now, the knowledge that he could fight all he wanted but wouldn't win -- and the knowledge that his body and desires were betraying him utterly. The intensity of Garibaldi's struggle was driving Welles mad, too, and while pinning Garibaldi's wrists with one large hand he used the other to unzip his trousers and free his weeping cock. Then he grabbed Garibaldi by one arm and one leg and flipped him, forcing him down on the rug on his stomach. _Gods -- no one's ever fought this much before. Michael, you're fantastic!_ Garibaldi continued to struggle and buck against him and Welles realized there was a risk he would come before he ever got inside his conquest. Even horny as hell and desperate to get fucked, Garibaldi fought like a tiger. With a knee he pinned one leg, then brought Garibaldi's right arm up behind his back. Garibaldi's struggles diminished a little, and that was all he needed. Welles positioned the head of his cock at Garibaldi's anus and shoved, savagely. Garibaldi screamed as he was impaled, tried to crawl out from underneath him. Welles laughed and pulled harder on Garibaldi's arm, leaned down and hissed, "You're mine, Michael. You keep fighting and I'll just dislocate your arm and continue fucking you. *I* don't care -- I *like* it when you fight. My cock's up your sweet ass and I'm going to fuck you until *I* come." Welles began to move and sighed as he felt Garibaldi's struggles diminish further. "After all, Michael," he purred as he pumped roughly into Garibaldi, "you're being raped -- there's nothing you can do to stop me..." Then he added mentally, //Might as well lie there and enjoy it.// _Bastard,_ Garibaldi thought viciously, although Welles could tell he was losing the battle against his own hungers. He smiled darkly and pulled again on Garibaldi's arm, relishing the surge of pain and arousal he felt in response. "God, Michael, you really will take anything you can get, won't you," he whispered, leaning close and shoving deep. He could feel Garibaldi's resistance failing, feel him arching up into his thrusts, hear him moan hotly. "Such a slut," he purred, then sank his teeth into Garibaldi's shoulder. Garibaldi cried out, arching into the punishing strokes to impale himself and panting with desperate arousal. Welles could feel the hungers taking over Garibaldi's mind, body -- even his soul -- and he and his fellows would make sure Garibaldi got *exactly* what he needed. He rammed brutally into Garibaldi, reveling in his surrender and the desperate hunger controlling him. Yes, this would be so good... He slid his mind back into Garibaldi's, amused by the attempt -- unconscious though it was -- to keep him from seeing Garibaldi's most intimate secrets. It failed. //Fuck you harder, Michael? Why of course I will, my sweet whore. We all will,// he told Garibaldi, feeling the shudder that ran through him at that. //Gods, you are good -- sweet, tight ass, beautiful thick cock -- I'm going to fill that ass of yours with my cum, and then we're going to have a party. The others are waiting for you...// _No!_ Garibaldi thought desperately, last futile attempt to cling to honour and duty, knowing how he'd end up if a crowd of PsiCops got their hands on him... Then Welles' mind plowed into his pleasure center. He screamed, and forgot everything and everyone outside the pleasure. _Yes!_ Pleasure tore through his mind as Welles came, hot cum bathing his insides while the brutal strokes and vicious jabs at his pleasure center brought his own explosion. He didn't even know if he actually came -- the pleasure was as much in his mind as it was in his body. Welles caught the last tendril of thought as he felt Garibaldi slip into unconsciousness -- a sensation more than anything formed of concepts or words: Garibaldi was looking for something -- a something he could never have -- and not being able to find it hurt. Oblivion in death, oblivion in drink, even oblivion drowning in pleasure in the midst of his enemies. He would do anything -- ANYTHING -- to not be hurt again... --==**==-- (concluded in part 3) Babylon 5 is (C) 1997 PTEN & Babylonian Productions. This story is not intended to infringe on these copyrights. Program Initiated is (c) 1997 Galenn. Song lyrics used without permission.