perchance to dream, Stargate SG-1, NC-17
Jan. 6th, 2014 06:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Stargate SG-1
Title: perchance to dream
Characters/Pairings: Sam Carter/Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Janet Frasier
Word Count: 3975
Rating: VERY NC-17
Summary: Sam finds herself a prisoner, tortured, brutalized by a man with a familiar face.
A/Ns & Warnings: WARNINGS TORTURE, NON-Con use of toys, Blood play, cutting, knife play. Did I mention the torture? THIS IS NOT PRETTY FIC. As to the rest....well I'd like to blame a certain llama, but I think this one falls firmly on Brain.
Her head is thick with fog and pain, throbbing as she tries to open her eyes. The room wobbles and spins before settling into a dark space lit only by a fire to her right. A shadow moves nearby, detaches from the shadows, moves closer.
"Sir?" Her voice is shaky as he smiles softly, one hand ghosting over face lightly. "What's happening?"
"Shhh. Easy Carter." Jack whispers, sitting beside her. "You've had a rough day."
She turns her head, tries to place where they are, how they got there, but her memory is a black wall and it hurts her head to keep trying. "Where are we?"
His smile fades a little and he caresses over her arms, which is about when Sam realizes that she's bound, her hands up over her head, bound together and tied to something she can't see. "Sir?" She struggles, pulls on her hands, harder as she realizes she can't get loose.
"Hey." Jack's hand touches her face and she stills some. "Stop that, Carter. You're going to hurt yourself."
"Why am I tied down?" she asks, her voice a little stronger now, flushed with fear.
His hand continues to stroke her face, down to her chest. "I need you to be still." Jack says, his tone still pleasant, but she senses a dangerous undertone. His hand lays flat on her stomach, only the light cotton of her tank top between his skin and hers.
"Please, sir. Untie me."
"I can't do that just yet." He stands, moving away. She lifts her head, trying to follow him and take stock of their situation at the same time. She can't see the walls of the room, but for the one with the fire and when Jack moves away, he disappears into the dark around them. She's on some cot, not much wider than she herself is. Each of her feet is bound to the end of the bed. She's been stripped down to her underwear and tank top. The only other thing she can see is the stool by the bed where Jack had been sitting.
She tries to stay calm, her eyes scanning the dark for her superior officer, or for Daniel or Teal'c. Her head is pounding harder now and she lays it back on the cot, hoping for some relief. Jack is whistling as he returns, a small tray in his hands. He smiles at her and sets the tray down by the bed, sitting, his hands moving over the tray. She can't see what is on it, but he fixes that as he lifts a knife.
Sam blinks as the blade catches the light of the fire, suddenly terrified. It's fairly clear he isn't going to cut her loose with that blade. "Sir?"
"It's okay, Carter. Just relax."
The knife moves slowly, descending toward the bared underside of her arm. She watches in disbelief as it draws a red line over her skin, gasping as the sting makes itself known. The blade is sharp, slicing through skin with ease, and blood is dripping down her skin before the sting becomes pain. She's still processing what he's done when he reaches over her to make a matching cut on her other arm.
Her voice echoes in the space as she yells, shaking and trying to pull away. Jack is still smiling, putting the knife back on the tray. "There now, isn't that better?" he asks, cocking his head to look at her.
"Sir, why are you doing this?" she asks when she's found her voice again.
"It needs doing." Jack responds, still smiling. He ignores her then, his attention back on the tray. He lifts another knife, smaller this time, slightly curved and he turns to the leg nearest him. Sam screams as the knife slices through the flesh of her thigh…once, twice, three times. They're not deep, long and shallow, made to bleed and hurt. She pulls on her arms, struggling with more intensity to get free, but she's not going anywhere and she loses the momentum as he cuts her again, up her other thigh. The blade digs in a little deeper and she arches up, trying to turn her body away from him.
Suddenly he's straddling over her, his weight pressing her to the cot. His fingers are coated in her blood as he presses them to her mouth. "Shh…we're just getting started, Carter. Don't wear yourself out yet. Save your voice for when it really hurts."
Sam pulls away, but his fingers follow her, coating her lips with her own blood before he lifts his hand and licks at the blood left on his fingers. He's watching her, she can feel his eyes, but she keeps hers averted, tries to remember how they got here, what happened to make him like this.
There's nothing in her memory though, nothing beyond getting back from their last mission and saying goodbye to Daniel in the parking lot…and Jack asking if she wanted to go for a drink. The rest is all dark, an abyss of nothingness in her head.
Jack's weight presses down as he shifts, reaching for the tray again. "Sir, please. Tell me what's going on."
He sits back, grinning at her like she's just said something funny. "We're having fun." His hands move and the serrated blade in his hand cuts through the straps of her tank top and bra, exposing her breasts. He set the knife aside, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers pinching at her nipples, making them stand erect. "You're going to like this part."
She can't see what he's doing, but suddenly there's searing pain, her nipple is on fire with it and she bucks under him. He just rides it out, waits for her to settle and does the same to the other nipple. When he's done, each breast is adorned with a thick piece of metal shoved through the nipples.
Jack leaves her then, disappearing again into the blackness, leaving her panting around the pain. He returns and settles back on the stool, before he's clipping what looks disturbingly like electric leads onto the metal.
"No." Sam gasps, struggling again. "Sir, please. Stop."
He just smiles and connects the leads to the box in his hand. The first jolt is mild, but she knows it is going to get worse, anticipates it, holding her breath. When it finally comes, she screams, arching her back in a vain attempt to escape the pain as the metal rods through her nipples reverberate with the shock.
She's gasping for air when he finally ends it, setting the box down on the tray and caressing over her breasts. "You are beautiful like this Carter. Beautiful."
There are tears burning the corners of her eyes and she blinks, sending them cascading down her face. "Please. Jack."
The smile fades and his eyes go dark, his fingers grabbing her chin and squeezing. "What did you call me?"
She shivers, the tone of his voice cold. "J-jack. Sir. Please."
"Sir. That's better." Jack releases her and picks up the box again. "Now then…
where were we?"
Sam screams as the electricity slams through her, her body quaking even when it was done. She loses count of the jolts and crashes headlong into darkness somewhere along the way, passing out and clinging to the thought that it wasn't real.
"No." She fights against the restraints to pull away from his hands, from the blade he is using to carve into her skin. She'd awoken hours before to his stare, his smile. He'd used the time to torment her, cutting her skin, playing with the wounds, all the while talking to her like this was normal…pleasant even.
"Oh, come on Carter. I haven't even started really cutting yet." He looks down at her, the blade in his hand red with blood, his smile creepy in the light from the fire. "I tell you what…I'll make it feel good, okay?"
He returns the knife to the tray and comes to the cot, untying her left ankle, pressing it up until her knee bent. He pulls a leather strap up from the floor and puts it around her leg, securing her calf to her thigh and pressing her knee off the side of the cot. She can't see what he clips to the buckle of the strap, but it is heavy and she can't lift her leg. He moves to the other side and repeats the steps, leaving her spread open. He returns to the tray and lifts the smaller knife, leaning it to quickly cut away her panties, leaving her naked and exposed.
"Please, sir…please…don't do this," she begs, struggling harder now, tears burning her eyes. "I'm begging you, stop."
He grins at her, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, I like begging." He disappears into the dark around them again and when he returns he has what looks like a wand massager in his head, already buzzing. She fights against the rope and leather binding her, but can do nothing to stop him as he lowers the wand and begins rubbing it around her exposed pussy.
Sam closes her eyes and tries to pull away, tilting her hips to minimize the contact. Jack responds by slashing the small knife across her inner thigh, making her scream. She doesn't want to get aroused, but she can already feel herself getting wet as he finds her clit with the vibrating head of the massager and presses in. She shakes her head, bites her lip, tries to fight against the building sensation, but her body doesn't seem to understand and she can tell it's a fight she's going to lose.
Her hands fist in their rope prison and she fights with everything she has, but it's like she has no control, like somehow her body is no longer her own and as she trembles and comes, he laughs low and dirty.
"Is that better for you?" he asks, one hand caressing over her cut up stomach. The vibrator doesn't leave her, and she's already building toward another orgasm when he tilts his head, his smile widening. His hand leaves her stomach and dips below the bed, coming back with some metal contraption that she can't understand.
Not until he lifts the vibrator and settles the contraption down over her. The legs of it lodge in the creases of her knees and he carefully parts her lips, inserting the bottom ring so that it holds her open, exposes her clit. The wand settles into the metal frame, onto her clit and Sam yells as the vibration returns and her orgasm rips through her.
He laughs and stands, moves away into the dark. She can't watch for him, not with her body shaking. She squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip to keep from yelling out. She misses his return then, but not the feeling of something pressing into her, thick and deep, filling her and making her gasp. He's at the end of the cot, adjusting something and she lifts her head, blinking.
The fake cock he's stuffed into her is moving, and she can't quite see how, beyond the rod that holds it. Not that it matters. She's panting as it builds again, as the combination of steady fucking and constant vibration against her clit drags her to the edge and drops her over. As the orgasm reaches its peak, electricity courses through her from her pierced nipples and she screams out, arching and twisting in an effort to escape either stimulus.
There's no relief though, not until he turns off the box and she can almost breathe again…almost…but the vibrator is still going and the dildo is still fucking her and she opens her mouth to beg him to stop, but the look on his face stops her.
This couldn't be Jack O'Neill. Not the man she'd served under for the last five years. She had given thought to some alien influence, maybe even a Goa'uld…but he would have betrayed himself by now. But no, Jack would have found a way to fight it, to let her know…except for how she knows that isn't true. As her body arches and another orgasm and the electric ripples of pain crash through her and she screams, she's not sure it matters in the end.
Time seems to have no meaning and she's nearly convinced this is how she'll die. Her skin is sticky with blood and sweat. Her body trembles, quivers, even when he isn't touching her…though she seldom gets that reprieve. There isn't much of her he hasn't cut or bruised or both.
Her blood soaks the canvas of the cot beneath her and she thinks she's lost too much now to survive. Her feet are cold and her fingers numb and she's finding it hard to concentrate as he straddles over her again, this monster who isn't Jack but is.
"Stay with me Carter. We're not done yet."
She blinks slowly. The room has gotten darker, the fire burns low. She can barely see him, but she can feel the weight of him, pressing into her as his blade dances over her skin. "Maybe it's time we dig a little deeper."
She gasps as the knife bites into her side, sliding into her. Her shaking increases, her confused body mistaking the penetration for something else. He chuckles and slips the knife out, repositioning it slightly and pushing in again. Sam cries out as she comes yet again. He holds up the knife, wipes the blood across her lips. "You'll never come without it again, Carter. My gift to you. "
Her eyes close as he switches sides, the blade penetrating her skin with ease. She thinks maybe it should hurt more. Dying. It hurts, sure…but somehow it doesn't seem quite real, he's not real…so why should the pain be?
She doesn't know what she's thinking.
"Not enough for you, Carter?" he asks, reaching for a longer blade, his eyes tracing all of the marks he's made since this began. He drags it over her breasts and the pain burns past the dull symphony that the rest has faded into. He presses down, cutting deeper and she yells, pushing up into the fire of it.
"You like that?" he asks, grinning down at her as he leans in and licks at the blood on her face.
"Please…" her voice cracks as she sobs. "Just kill me. Just kill me." She can't make the words stop, except when the blade cut into her and her voice breaks, but they just start up again, begging him to end it, to just finish it.
He laid across her then, his body smothering hers, his lips on her ear. "Where is the fun in that?"
His knife sank into her ass, all the way to the hilt and she crashed headlong into darkness, praying it would be the last time.
Her first indication that anything has changed as she becomes aware of herself again, is the smell of antiseptic and the sound of a machine near her head. Her body is heavy, sore and her head feels like she'd used it to beat down a door.
There's a hand in hers and the soft murmur of conversation. She tries to open her eyes, but doesn't quite succeed, then licks her thick lips and tries to swallow on a very dry and sore throat.
"I think she's coming around."
"I'll get Janet."
It makes no sense. She was sure it was over. She tries her eyes again and the room is bright, way too bright, making her blink and tear up. Slowly she gets some focus though and his face is there, his hand in hers. She tries to pull away, but her wrist is held in some restraint and she shakes her head. "No more," she scratches out of a throat that feels like its been scraped down and left raw.
He looks startled, lets go of her and moves back. "No."
"Hey, hey." Janet's voice reaches her through the fog, her hand soft, cupping to Sam's face. "You're okay. You're safe. You're in the infirmary at the SGC."
Sam blinks, tears leaving wet trails over her face, looking up from Janet to Daniel standing at the end of the bed and over to Jack standing beside it. He smiles and she has to look away. She wants to curl up, protect herself, but she's held down by the medical restraints. She yanks on her arms, on her legs, the frantic movement getting faster until Janet touches her hand. "Okay. Okay. Calm down, Sam. I think we can get rid of these."
Nimble fingers unbuckle her wrists and move on to her feet and Sam draws her feet up, turning so that her back is to Jack. Janet rubs her wrist comfortingly and Sam reaches for her, burying her face in Janet's side as the horror crashes through her. Tender fingers stroke through her hair. "It's okay, Sam." Janet said softly. "Colonel, why don't you and Doctor Jackson give us a few minutes."
Sam can't move, even as she hears them leaving, as Janet's fingers slide down to her jaw. "They're gone, Sam. It's just you and me."
She nods, shifting back, wiping a shaking hand over her face. Janet smiles softly. "Okay. I need to check you out, okay?" Sam nods again, laying back against the bed as Janet begins her exam. She watches, frowning as she realizes that the wounds she should have all over her body are gone.
"How long?" Sam asks as she shifts uncomfortably.
Janet steps back, making notes on her chart. "Well, you collapsed five days ago. We removed the alien entity a day and a half ago. You've been unconscious since then."
Sam shakes her head. "No, that can't be right." It had been weeks of torture, she's sure of it. "Who found me?"
Janet set the chart down and comes back to check the IV pumping fluids into her. "No one had to find you. You were in the parking lot with Daniel. He said you started talking to someone who wasn't there, then just collapsed."
Sam's head is spinning. "I…he tortured me…" She holds up her hands, expecting to find them covered in scars at the very least. "It went on forever."
"It was all in your head." Janet says, taking her hand and sitting beside her on the bed. "There was an alien inside of you. None of it really happened."
"No." Of course, it would explain a lot. But it still feels real. Her body aches, throbs. She can almost feel the blade on her skin, the vibrator on her clit. She flushes and pulls her hand loose.
"The alien did some internal damage before the Komash got him out of you. I thought we were going to lose you."
"I begged him to let me die." Sam says softly, still not sure she believes Janet is telling the truth.
"Who?" Janet asks, her eyes too much and Sam looks away again.
"Colonel O'Neill." Sam whispers, feeling fear spill out into her stomach.
Janet is quiet then, working around her before she holds up a syringe. "I can give you something, to help you sleep."
Sam nods without looking up, closing her eyes as she imagines she can feel the drug moving into her from the IV, embracing the darkness.
Daniel is there the next time she wakes, just sitting in a chair nearby reading from one of his old books. She watches him for a moment before he feels her eyes and looks up, his smile warm. He doesn't move otherwise, just sits and waits for her.
"How long you been there?" Sam asks after a long time.
"A while. I thought you might like a friendly face when you woke up."
She glances up and over her shoulder.
"We're alone. Janet should be in soon. Do you need me to call someone?"
Sam smiles a little and shakes her head. "No. I'm okay."
"Are you?" Daniel asks, his piercing blue eyes looking into her like he could see what she'd been through.
She can feel tears welling up and closes her eyes. "I don't know."
He's silent as she tries to get past the rush of fear and remembered pain and when she opens her eyes again, he's set his book aside and turned to face her more directly. "If you're ready to hear it, I can tell you what happened."
She licks her lips and reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears. "Janet said there was some kind of alien."
He nods. "Our last mission, remember the monastery? The Komash?"
She has a vague memory of odd pale green eyes and a story about a rare race of symbiotes that blend so completely with their host that they become an entirely new person, dedicated to preserving the history of both species as well as art and knowledge. Sam nods.
"It turns out that not all Komash are as virtuous as those currently at that monastery. There was one called Madask who was convicted over a hundred years ago of taking a host without permission. Well, actually that would be the Ma-she-do that took the host without permission. It's the blended being that they call the Komash….anyway." Daniel pushes his glasses up his nose and sighs. "It turns out that this Madask was put in a sort of stasis as punishment. They couldn't prove what he'd done at the time, could only link him to a string of dead hosts and one who lived through his torture."
Sam shivers and pulls the blanket closer, seeing Jack's face and his eerie smile. "It wasn't him." Sam says softly.
Daniel's smile is gentle. "No, Sam. It wasn't."
"I…I think I…he wasn't real." She's half sure she's just saying it to convince herself.
"We got Lamber and Kyla to come and get him out of you." Daniel cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "This time he'll be sentenced based on what he's actually done. Not just what they think he's done."
His tone is dark, very unlike Daniel and Sam squints at him, trying to see what's going on inside his head. "They have…technology." He stands and paces a little, then comes back and sits. "We didn't see all of it. But we saw enough."
She shivers and turns away, onto her back, closes her eyes. "No."
"Sam." His hand slides into hers, warm, comforting. "We were here. Jack and I through the whole thing. The only time we left was when Janet kicked us out. We heard you screaming and begging and we needed to know." He sniffles and she looks up, surprised to see him crying. "You were in so much pain." He licks his lip. "You should know, Jack--" He looks up when he says the name, expecting her to react. He licks his lips, his thumb stroking over the back of his hand. "He left. He took all of his shore leave. He said he didn't want to be the cause of…more pain."
She knows she should be sorry, knows she should say something about it not being necessary, but she can't find the words. Instead, she squeezes his hand. It's all she has in way of comfort…to tell him that she's okay…or will be.
"It wasn't real. It was all a dream." Sam whispers to herself. She knows it isn't completely true. Some parts of it were true. She can feel his hands on her skin, feel his blade sink into her, feel her body react.
He may not have been real, but something of him would remain inside her for the rest of her days. Of that, she was certain.
Title: perchance to dream
Characters/Pairings: Sam Carter/Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Janet Frasier
Word Count: 3975
Rating: VERY NC-17
Summary: Sam finds herself a prisoner, tortured, brutalized by a man with a familiar face.
A/Ns & Warnings: WARNINGS TORTURE, NON-Con use of toys, Blood play, cutting, knife play. Did I mention the torture? THIS IS NOT PRETTY FIC. As to the rest....well I'd like to blame a certain llama, but I think this one falls firmly on Brain.
Her head is thick with fog and pain, throbbing as she tries to open her eyes. The room wobbles and spins before settling into a dark space lit only by a fire to her right. A shadow moves nearby, detaches from the shadows, moves closer.
"Sir?" Her voice is shaky as he smiles softly, one hand ghosting over face lightly. "What's happening?"
"Shhh. Easy Carter." Jack whispers, sitting beside her. "You've had a rough day."
She turns her head, tries to place where they are, how they got there, but her memory is a black wall and it hurts her head to keep trying. "Where are we?"
His smile fades a little and he caresses over her arms, which is about when Sam realizes that she's bound, her hands up over her head, bound together and tied to something she can't see. "Sir?" She struggles, pulls on her hands, harder as she realizes she can't get loose.
"Hey." Jack's hand touches her face and she stills some. "Stop that, Carter. You're going to hurt yourself."
"Why am I tied down?" she asks, her voice a little stronger now, flushed with fear.
His hand continues to stroke her face, down to her chest. "I need you to be still." Jack says, his tone still pleasant, but she senses a dangerous undertone. His hand lays flat on her stomach, only the light cotton of her tank top between his skin and hers.
"Please, sir. Untie me."
"I can't do that just yet." He stands, moving away. She lifts her head, trying to follow him and take stock of their situation at the same time. She can't see the walls of the room, but for the one with the fire and when Jack moves away, he disappears into the dark around them. She's on some cot, not much wider than she herself is. Each of her feet is bound to the end of the bed. She's been stripped down to her underwear and tank top. The only other thing she can see is the stool by the bed where Jack had been sitting.
She tries to stay calm, her eyes scanning the dark for her superior officer, or for Daniel or Teal'c. Her head is pounding harder now and she lays it back on the cot, hoping for some relief. Jack is whistling as he returns, a small tray in his hands. He smiles at her and sets the tray down by the bed, sitting, his hands moving over the tray. She can't see what is on it, but he fixes that as he lifts a knife.
Sam blinks as the blade catches the light of the fire, suddenly terrified. It's fairly clear he isn't going to cut her loose with that blade. "Sir?"
"It's okay, Carter. Just relax."
The knife moves slowly, descending toward the bared underside of her arm. She watches in disbelief as it draws a red line over her skin, gasping as the sting makes itself known. The blade is sharp, slicing through skin with ease, and blood is dripping down her skin before the sting becomes pain. She's still processing what he's done when he reaches over her to make a matching cut on her other arm.
Her voice echoes in the space as she yells, shaking and trying to pull away. Jack is still smiling, putting the knife back on the tray. "There now, isn't that better?" he asks, cocking his head to look at her.
"Sir, why are you doing this?" she asks when she's found her voice again.
"It needs doing." Jack responds, still smiling. He ignores her then, his attention back on the tray. He lifts another knife, smaller this time, slightly curved and he turns to the leg nearest him. Sam screams as the knife slices through the flesh of her thigh…once, twice, three times. They're not deep, long and shallow, made to bleed and hurt. She pulls on her arms, struggling with more intensity to get free, but she's not going anywhere and she loses the momentum as he cuts her again, up her other thigh. The blade digs in a little deeper and she arches up, trying to turn her body away from him.
Suddenly he's straddling over her, his weight pressing her to the cot. His fingers are coated in her blood as he presses them to her mouth. "Shh…we're just getting started, Carter. Don't wear yourself out yet. Save your voice for when it really hurts."
Sam pulls away, but his fingers follow her, coating her lips with her own blood before he lifts his hand and licks at the blood left on his fingers. He's watching her, she can feel his eyes, but she keeps hers averted, tries to remember how they got here, what happened to make him like this.
There's nothing in her memory though, nothing beyond getting back from their last mission and saying goodbye to Daniel in the parking lot…and Jack asking if she wanted to go for a drink. The rest is all dark, an abyss of nothingness in her head.
Jack's weight presses down as he shifts, reaching for the tray again. "Sir, please. Tell me what's going on."
He sits back, grinning at her like she's just said something funny. "We're having fun." His hands move and the serrated blade in his hand cuts through the straps of her tank top and bra, exposing her breasts. He set the knife aside, his hands moving to cup her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers pinching at her nipples, making them stand erect. "You're going to like this part."
She can't see what he's doing, but suddenly there's searing pain, her nipple is on fire with it and she bucks under him. He just rides it out, waits for her to settle and does the same to the other nipple. When he's done, each breast is adorned with a thick piece of metal shoved through the nipples.
Jack leaves her then, disappearing again into the blackness, leaving her panting around the pain. He returns and settles back on the stool, before he's clipping what looks disturbingly like electric leads onto the metal.
"No." Sam gasps, struggling again. "Sir, please. Stop."
He just smiles and connects the leads to the box in his hand. The first jolt is mild, but she knows it is going to get worse, anticipates it, holding her breath. When it finally comes, she screams, arching her back in a vain attempt to escape the pain as the metal rods through her nipples reverberate with the shock.
She's gasping for air when he finally ends it, setting the box down on the tray and caressing over her breasts. "You are beautiful like this Carter. Beautiful."
There are tears burning the corners of her eyes and she blinks, sending them cascading down her face. "Please. Jack."
The smile fades and his eyes go dark, his fingers grabbing her chin and squeezing. "What did you call me?"
She shivers, the tone of his voice cold. "J-jack. Sir. Please."
"Sir. That's better." Jack releases her and picks up the box again. "Now then…
where were we?"
Sam screams as the electricity slams through her, her body quaking even when it was done. She loses count of the jolts and crashes headlong into darkness somewhere along the way, passing out and clinging to the thought that it wasn't real.
"No." She fights against the restraints to pull away from his hands, from the blade he is using to carve into her skin. She'd awoken hours before to his stare, his smile. He'd used the time to torment her, cutting her skin, playing with the wounds, all the while talking to her like this was normal…pleasant even.
"Oh, come on Carter. I haven't even started really cutting yet." He looks down at her, the blade in his hand red with blood, his smile creepy in the light from the fire. "I tell you what…I'll make it feel good, okay?"
He returns the knife to the tray and comes to the cot, untying her left ankle, pressing it up until her knee bent. He pulls a leather strap up from the floor and puts it around her leg, securing her calf to her thigh and pressing her knee off the side of the cot. She can't see what he clips to the buckle of the strap, but it is heavy and she can't lift her leg. He moves to the other side and repeats the steps, leaving her spread open. He returns to the tray and lifts the smaller knife, leaning it to quickly cut away her panties, leaving her naked and exposed.
"Please, sir…please…don't do this," she begs, struggling harder now, tears burning her eyes. "I'm begging you, stop."
He grins at her, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, I like begging." He disappears into the dark around them again and when he returns he has what looks like a wand massager in his head, already buzzing. She fights against the rope and leather binding her, but can do nothing to stop him as he lowers the wand and begins rubbing it around her exposed pussy.
Sam closes her eyes and tries to pull away, tilting her hips to minimize the contact. Jack responds by slashing the small knife across her inner thigh, making her scream. She doesn't want to get aroused, but she can already feel herself getting wet as he finds her clit with the vibrating head of the massager and presses in. She shakes her head, bites her lip, tries to fight against the building sensation, but her body doesn't seem to understand and she can tell it's a fight she's going to lose.
Her hands fist in their rope prison and she fights with everything she has, but it's like she has no control, like somehow her body is no longer her own and as she trembles and comes, he laughs low and dirty.
"Is that better for you?" he asks, one hand caressing over her cut up stomach. The vibrator doesn't leave her, and she's already building toward another orgasm when he tilts his head, his smile widening. His hand leaves her stomach and dips below the bed, coming back with some metal contraption that she can't understand.
Not until he lifts the vibrator and settles the contraption down over her. The legs of it lodge in the creases of her knees and he carefully parts her lips, inserting the bottom ring so that it holds her open, exposes her clit. The wand settles into the metal frame, onto her clit and Sam yells as the vibration returns and her orgasm rips through her.
He laughs and stands, moves away into the dark. She can't watch for him, not with her body shaking. She squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip to keep from yelling out. She misses his return then, but not the feeling of something pressing into her, thick and deep, filling her and making her gasp. He's at the end of the cot, adjusting something and she lifts her head, blinking.
The fake cock he's stuffed into her is moving, and she can't quite see how, beyond the rod that holds it. Not that it matters. She's panting as it builds again, as the combination of steady fucking and constant vibration against her clit drags her to the edge and drops her over. As the orgasm reaches its peak, electricity courses through her from her pierced nipples and she screams out, arching and twisting in an effort to escape either stimulus.
There's no relief though, not until he turns off the box and she can almost breathe again…almost…but the vibrator is still going and the dildo is still fucking her and she opens her mouth to beg him to stop, but the look on his face stops her.
This couldn't be Jack O'Neill. Not the man she'd served under for the last five years. She had given thought to some alien influence, maybe even a Goa'uld…but he would have betrayed himself by now. But no, Jack would have found a way to fight it, to let her know…except for how she knows that isn't true. As her body arches and another orgasm and the electric ripples of pain crash through her and she screams, she's not sure it matters in the end.
Time seems to have no meaning and she's nearly convinced this is how she'll die. Her skin is sticky with blood and sweat. Her body trembles, quivers, even when he isn't touching her…though she seldom gets that reprieve. There isn't much of her he hasn't cut or bruised or both.
Her blood soaks the canvas of the cot beneath her and she thinks she's lost too much now to survive. Her feet are cold and her fingers numb and she's finding it hard to concentrate as he straddles over her again, this monster who isn't Jack but is.
"Stay with me Carter. We're not done yet."
She blinks slowly. The room has gotten darker, the fire burns low. She can barely see him, but she can feel the weight of him, pressing into her as his blade dances over her skin. "Maybe it's time we dig a little deeper."
She gasps as the knife bites into her side, sliding into her. Her shaking increases, her confused body mistaking the penetration for something else. He chuckles and slips the knife out, repositioning it slightly and pushing in again. Sam cries out as she comes yet again. He holds up the knife, wipes the blood across her lips. "You'll never come without it again, Carter. My gift to you. "
Her eyes close as he switches sides, the blade penetrating her skin with ease. She thinks maybe it should hurt more. Dying. It hurts, sure…but somehow it doesn't seem quite real, he's not real…so why should the pain be?
She doesn't know what she's thinking.
"Not enough for you, Carter?" he asks, reaching for a longer blade, his eyes tracing all of the marks he's made since this began. He drags it over her breasts and the pain burns past the dull symphony that the rest has faded into. He presses down, cutting deeper and she yells, pushing up into the fire of it.
"You like that?" he asks, grinning down at her as he leans in and licks at the blood on her face.
"Please…" her voice cracks as she sobs. "Just kill me. Just kill me." She can't make the words stop, except when the blade cut into her and her voice breaks, but they just start up again, begging him to end it, to just finish it.
He laid across her then, his body smothering hers, his lips on her ear. "Where is the fun in that?"
His knife sank into her ass, all the way to the hilt and she crashed headlong into darkness, praying it would be the last time.
Her first indication that anything has changed as she becomes aware of herself again, is the smell of antiseptic and the sound of a machine near her head. Her body is heavy, sore and her head feels like she'd used it to beat down a door.
There's a hand in hers and the soft murmur of conversation. She tries to open her eyes, but doesn't quite succeed, then licks her thick lips and tries to swallow on a very dry and sore throat.
"I think she's coming around."
"I'll get Janet."
It makes no sense. She was sure it was over. She tries her eyes again and the room is bright, way too bright, making her blink and tear up. Slowly she gets some focus though and his face is there, his hand in hers. She tries to pull away, but her wrist is held in some restraint and she shakes her head. "No more," she scratches out of a throat that feels like its been scraped down and left raw.
He looks startled, lets go of her and moves back. "No."
"Hey, hey." Janet's voice reaches her through the fog, her hand soft, cupping to Sam's face. "You're okay. You're safe. You're in the infirmary at the SGC."
Sam blinks, tears leaving wet trails over her face, looking up from Janet to Daniel standing at the end of the bed and over to Jack standing beside it. He smiles and she has to look away. She wants to curl up, protect herself, but she's held down by the medical restraints. She yanks on her arms, on her legs, the frantic movement getting faster until Janet touches her hand. "Okay. Okay. Calm down, Sam. I think we can get rid of these."
Nimble fingers unbuckle her wrists and move on to her feet and Sam draws her feet up, turning so that her back is to Jack. Janet rubs her wrist comfortingly and Sam reaches for her, burying her face in Janet's side as the horror crashes through her. Tender fingers stroke through her hair. "It's okay, Sam." Janet said softly. "Colonel, why don't you and Doctor Jackson give us a few minutes."
Sam can't move, even as she hears them leaving, as Janet's fingers slide down to her jaw. "They're gone, Sam. It's just you and me."
She nods, shifting back, wiping a shaking hand over her face. Janet smiles softly. "Okay. I need to check you out, okay?" Sam nods again, laying back against the bed as Janet begins her exam. She watches, frowning as she realizes that the wounds she should have all over her body are gone.
"How long?" Sam asks as she shifts uncomfortably.
Janet steps back, making notes on her chart. "Well, you collapsed five days ago. We removed the alien entity a day and a half ago. You've been unconscious since then."
Sam shakes her head. "No, that can't be right." It had been weeks of torture, she's sure of it. "Who found me?"
Janet set the chart down and comes back to check the IV pumping fluids into her. "No one had to find you. You were in the parking lot with Daniel. He said you started talking to someone who wasn't there, then just collapsed."
Sam's head is spinning. "I…he tortured me…" She holds up her hands, expecting to find them covered in scars at the very least. "It went on forever."
"It was all in your head." Janet says, taking her hand and sitting beside her on the bed. "There was an alien inside of you. None of it really happened."
"No." Of course, it would explain a lot. But it still feels real. Her body aches, throbs. She can almost feel the blade on her skin, the vibrator on her clit. She flushes and pulls her hand loose.
"The alien did some internal damage before the Komash got him out of you. I thought we were going to lose you."
"I begged him to let me die." Sam says softly, still not sure she believes Janet is telling the truth.
"Who?" Janet asks, her eyes too much and Sam looks away again.
"Colonel O'Neill." Sam whispers, feeling fear spill out into her stomach.
Janet is quiet then, working around her before she holds up a syringe. "I can give you something, to help you sleep."
Sam nods without looking up, closing her eyes as she imagines she can feel the drug moving into her from the IV, embracing the darkness.
Daniel is there the next time she wakes, just sitting in a chair nearby reading from one of his old books. She watches him for a moment before he feels her eyes and looks up, his smile warm. He doesn't move otherwise, just sits and waits for her.
"How long you been there?" Sam asks after a long time.
"A while. I thought you might like a friendly face when you woke up."
She glances up and over her shoulder.
"We're alone. Janet should be in soon. Do you need me to call someone?"
Sam smiles a little and shakes her head. "No. I'm okay."
"Are you?" Daniel asks, his piercing blue eyes looking into her like he could see what she'd been through.
She can feel tears welling up and closes her eyes. "I don't know."
He's silent as she tries to get past the rush of fear and remembered pain and when she opens her eyes again, he's set his book aside and turned to face her more directly. "If you're ready to hear it, I can tell you what happened."
She licks her lips and reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears. "Janet said there was some kind of alien."
He nods. "Our last mission, remember the monastery? The Komash?"
She has a vague memory of odd pale green eyes and a story about a rare race of symbiotes that blend so completely with their host that they become an entirely new person, dedicated to preserving the history of both species as well as art and knowledge. Sam nods.
"It turns out that not all Komash are as virtuous as those currently at that monastery. There was one called Madask who was convicted over a hundred years ago of taking a host without permission. Well, actually that would be the Ma-she-do that took the host without permission. It's the blended being that they call the Komash….anyway." Daniel pushes his glasses up his nose and sighs. "It turns out that this Madask was put in a sort of stasis as punishment. They couldn't prove what he'd done at the time, could only link him to a string of dead hosts and one who lived through his torture."
Sam shivers and pulls the blanket closer, seeing Jack's face and his eerie smile. "It wasn't him." Sam says softly.
Daniel's smile is gentle. "No, Sam. It wasn't."
"I…I think I…he wasn't real." She's half sure she's just saying it to convince herself.
"We got Lamber and Kyla to come and get him out of you." Daniel cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "This time he'll be sentenced based on what he's actually done. Not just what they think he's done."
His tone is dark, very unlike Daniel and Sam squints at him, trying to see what's going on inside his head. "They have…technology." He stands and paces a little, then comes back and sits. "We didn't see all of it. But we saw enough."
She shivers and turns away, onto her back, closes her eyes. "No."
"Sam." His hand slides into hers, warm, comforting. "We were here. Jack and I through the whole thing. The only time we left was when Janet kicked us out. We heard you screaming and begging and we needed to know." He sniffles and she looks up, surprised to see him crying. "You were in so much pain." He licks his lip. "You should know, Jack--" He looks up when he says the name, expecting her to react. He licks his lips, his thumb stroking over the back of his hand. "He left. He took all of his shore leave. He said he didn't want to be the cause of…more pain."
She knows she should be sorry, knows she should say something about it not being necessary, but she can't find the words. Instead, she squeezes his hand. It's all she has in way of comfort…to tell him that she's okay…or will be.
"It wasn't real. It was all a dream." Sam whispers to herself. She knows it isn't completely true. Some parts of it were true. She can feel his hands on her skin, feel his blade sink into her, feel her body react.
He may not have been real, but something of him would remain inside her for the rest of her days. Of that, she was certain.
