Program Initiated part 3/3 [Out of the Shadows part 3] part of the 'Latitude' universe by Galenn Sweet dreams are made of this Who am I to disagree We travel the world and the seven seas Ev'rybody's looking for something... Some of them want to use you, Some of them want to get used by you, Some of them want to abuse you, Some of them want to be abused... --Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This), the Eurythmics He was a slave to his body -- hungers, desires ruled him. It was better that way, however, because then he couldn't feel that hole in his soul -- that part of him that Time and Destiny had stolen away... He had convinced himself that Welles had forced him -- had broken him. It seemed to give the NightWatch PsiCop a thrill to have so much power over him -- made him more cruel, more savage. Part of his mind hoped that perhaps he'd lose control and end this... Then there were the others. All of them harsh, demanding -- all of them glorious and cruel. Hands touched him, cocks penetrated him, minds fucked him. He vaguely remembered some women, too -- couldn't tell one face from the next, although once he thought he remembered straight blonde hair. Nails scratched him, fingers pinched him, minds fucked him again. It was glorious -- it kept the pain far, far away. His mind began to surface once during a poking, probing examination -- he remembered bright lights, some kind of device up his ass and electrodes at his temples, a man in a medical uniform; and then Welles' mind was back inside his own, the pleasure overwhelming him, dragging him back into the fog. No way to measure the passage of time again, but now he had no desire to. He was perfectly content to lose himself in the pleasure -- the only thing that had ever really mattered was gone, there was no reason to fight anymore; nothing left to fight for. There was another party -- he remembered voices, music, laughter, hands all over him, the glorious pleasure. Someone had slid a collar around his neck and kept him leashed, sprawled on a bed of pillows as they all fucked him and tormented him. So many black uniforms, so many NightWatch armbands...faces he didn't recognize -- and then one he did. "Hiya, Chief." Smug tone, arrogant superior attitude, dark curly hair... He blinked and tried to shake his head, willing this man to vanish. It didn't work. "Jack," he growled, surfacing more now than he had over the past -- well, the past however long it had been... "You sonofabitch." A sudden cruel tug on the leash, and Jack purred, "Looks more like you're the bitch now, Chief." There was laughter from the others, who, Garibaldi noted, had backed away from the area and were watching. "A prize bitch ready for breeding." "You little bastard!" Garibaldi snarled, lunging for Jack's throat but falling short. "Temper, temper, Chief," Jack purred, then he slid a hand down to fondle the prominent bulge at his crotch. "Besides, I'm not a *little* anything." To his horror, this time Garibaldi was aware of the hunger flaring, felt his cock harden, his ass twitch at the thought of Jack fucking him. This was the man who had nearly killed him, and now he wanted, more than anything else, to lie down and spread for him. *What the hell is *wrong* with me?!* Garibaldi thought, drowning in the lust and hunger, realizing he was floundering in it, knowing he should fight it but unable to do so. Someone yanked the leash again, pulling him down to his knees on the pillows. He saw Jack standing over him, beginning to unfasten his trousers, pulling his thick cock out and starting to fondle himself. Garibaldi swallowed convulsively, disgusted with his reactions -- for gods' sake, he was drooling! With his last vestige of pride, he knew he *had* to fight Jack -- he couldn't just let him...let him -- *Oh god, I *want* him to fuck me!* Garibaldi thought, wishing desperately for the return to oblivion. He wanted it all to go away -- to not be real... And then Jack's fingers were digging into his arms and he was struggling, fighting desperately to defeat his assailant. The others were gathered around, watching hungrily like a pack of feral dogs. Jack smiled and drew Garibaldi into a crushing hug, kissed him brutally. Despite his struggles, Jack felt Garibaldi's rampant erection and overwhelming desire to surrender. He pulled back and laughed, seeing the naked lust in Garibaldi's eyes. "God, Chief, you want me to give it to you so bad," Jack gloated, grabbing for Garibaldi's balls. Garibaldi dodged and shook his head, but knew inside that he was lying -- he did want it, and it was all he could do to fight. But he had to fight, didn't he? Jack lunged back at him, brought him down easily despite Garibaldi's attempts to evade, chuckled at his continuing struggles. "Hey, Welles," he said, laughing as Garibaldi bucked under him, "If he's as good a fuck as he is a fighter, we ought to keep him." "No!" Garibaldi cried, making one last desperate attempt to throw Jack off. It failed, and he could feel the final betrayal of his own body now, refusing to comply when he wanted to keep struggling. Instead he was spreading his legs, letting Jack kneel down between them. He tried to buck away one last time, but it was too late -- Jack's thick cock was inside him in one savage thrust. "Oohhh*god*!" he heard himself groan, writhing under his assailant, bucking into the brutal strokes now, giving in to the savage plundering. Jack growled and hissed in his ear, "I own you, Chief. Your sweet ass is mine. You've given in to me -- you want it so bad." Garibaldi squeezed his eyes shut, shame bringing burning tears -- but it was true, he did want it, with every fibre of his body. As the pleasure increased with Jack's viciousness, Garibaldi felt the fog beginning to enfold his mind once more. He welcomed it as eagerly as he welcomed the pleasure, and everything else faded from his consciousness once more. --==**==-- He was in the medical facility again, that device up his ass and the electrodes on his head. He had no idea what they were doing to him, only that despite the pleasure it made him nervous. Welles stepped into view, smiling down at him as if he knew a secret he wasn't telling, and gently stroked Garibaldi's cheek. "How do you feel, Michael?" he asked softly. When Garibaldi frowned and tried to answer, Welles chuckled. "We had to send everyone home -- you wore them out, lover. You're amazing." "What're you doin' t'me?" Garibaldi asked, shocked at how much effort speaking was. "It's the last day of your treatment," Welles answered cryptically. "What tr'ment?" Garibaldi asked, feeling his eyelids sagging against his will. Welles only laughed and turned to someone else in the room. "He's all yours, doctor. You know what to do." Garibaldi struggled to stay awake but the fog was beginning to engulf his mind. The last thing he heard clearly was Welles saying, "A pity he won't remember how much fun we had..." and then a low buzzing filled first his ears and then his mind. The next time he woke was in Babylon 5's MedLab... And never leave a moment too soon Never waste a hot afternoon Nobody's on nobody's side Never stay a minute too long Don't forget the best will go wrong Nobody's on nobody's side. --Nobody's Side, from the musical "Chess" 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.