"Surrender" by Evanescence was the eventual couple in here since the beginning. :D
Chapter Four
Ravished in the Enemy's Bed
At least she and Worf were in agreement that they had to get back to the station to warn the others about the Breen as everyone knew how unpredictable they were, and in Worf's words, dangerous.
If only they weren't brought to Cardassia Prime.
And if only they weren't arguing about Jadzia and herself again when they should be trying to escape from their holding cell.
She ended up hitting her head after cutting her finger in the midst of trying to help him take a nail from underneath the slab of a bed, and she would NOT let him touch her head. "Last time you touched me," she told him coolly, "things got out of hand."
"You're right about that. I was seduced and betrayed."
He called her a temptress in his native tongue on Goralis and now he called her attempts so in the Terran language! "Seduced?! I seduced you?!"
His back was turned to her. "At least we agree on that point," he said. "You desired a physical relationship with me from the start. That much was obvious."
He was obviously one of the men with the biggest ego she'd ever known in eight lifetimes. How on earth did Jadzia ever put up with him? She dared to turn this onto him. "Am I supposed to be embarrassed because Jadzia had a few lovers before you? I bet there wasn't anyone aboard DS9 who wasn't her lover!"
Worf might be angrier than she was, or perhaps she was angrier than he was. Why should she care? Even more was the fact a certain pair of violet eyes, a sultry voice, pale skin and elongated, ridged ears - and an overconfident grace - still lingered on her mind, something Jadzia never felt for the disgusting Vorta diplomat she hoped she did not want to see again anytime soon...
Her wish was not granted, for the doors opened, and in strolled the man himself with a PADD in hand. Behind him was Damar and two other Cardassian soldiers with their phaser rifles in hold. And Weyoun was smiling that sickly sweetness that she loathed to return as much as Worf.
She immediately spotted how he looked her body up and down, face unchanged, but those eyes glowed in a way the wise Dax knew all too well that it would not let Ezri be naïve to. If the circumstances were different, she might as well call him strangely handsome, possessing a ruthless sense of beauty that made her already sweating skin even hotter than it was, and her heart beating in a way it shouldn't. But it was all beyond her control as he knew he had it over her and Worf.
"Let me take this opportunity to welcome you both to Cardassia Prime," Weyoun said, being the one to step into the cell, Damar remaining in the doorway with his men on guard. "I trust you've all been well-treated so far."
He was mocking them both, and a good laugh was heard reduced to a chuckle as he held up the PADD in his hand. "I've been looking over the information that you supplied to the Breen during your interrogation - and the results are a bit..." He looked up, namely at her. "...confusing. As mental probes so often are. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind...sifting through the data just to clarify certain issues for us."
Worf was looking down at her, his face saying it all: the Vorta knew about her memories with Jadzia, and of her feelings for Julian. And this slime was making fun of her by asking her to spill what was best kept private to herself, and to Worf since he knew enough. "You can't be serious," Ezri spat, refusing to let herself be reduced to a mental toy for this demon, whose smile faded at her hinted refusal.
"I'm always serious," he said coldly before his tone changed to sorrow - or a pretense of it. "You see, if you don't do as I ask, I'll have to hand you over to Legate Damar -" He nodded to the doorway. "-and you know how ruthless Cardassians can be."
Damar himself nodded, though Ezri could have sworn she saw that he was tired of this and wanted to be done with it. "It is my duty to inform you that you will be turned over to a Cardassian tribunal, where you will be tried as war criminals."
Ezri lost it then. "War criminals? What are the charges?" she demanded, getting a calm, collected expression from Weyoun.
"That is nothing necessary for you to know," Damar replied, no emotion present. "All you need to know is that you will be found guilty and executed."
EXECUTED! Her mind began to spin until Weyoun's voice interfered that she wished she could throw a punch and smack his pretty little face. "However, if you should decide to join us to search a quick end to this miserable war, your sentence will be reduced to life imprisonment."
"If you want the war to be over," Ezri sneered, "why don't you convince the Founders to surrender?" She would rather be dead than to live and join these monsters - even that laughing violet-eyed alien who was now walking in front of her and leaning in so his nose was touching hers just barely. His aura washed over her, his shadow messing with hers, and with the much stronger Worf right behind him. Somehow, Ezri felt like she was going to crack from those icy purple eyes glittering and reeling her sanity.
"You know, my dear, it would be such a shame for you to die...without the good Dr. Bashir knowing how you felt about him."
Jadzia inside her erupted the same time her husband did, but Ezri knew this was all her. Weyoun had the gall to mock her and Julian, leaning in and...was he trying to KISS her? She never figured it out because she soon saw him dead at their feet. She heard the bones in his neck snap as Worf's strong hands grasped him and snapped it like a twig.
Worf was knocked down by one of the soldiers, and he would have killed Worf if Damar hadn't stopped them. Ezri knelt beside him to help him up as they both watched Damar warily as he laughed over Weyoun's corpse. Something told her that this wasn't the last of Weyoun until Damar himself confirmed it.
"Overconfidence - the hallmark of the Weyouns. Maybe the Founders should eliminate THAT from your genetic recipe next time!" He kicked the side of the body and shook his head. So, the Vorta were clones. He then looked back up at the two of them, especially Worf. "They'll just make another copy of him, you know? You should have killed me. There's only one Damar."
"I will keep that in mind," Worf replied, only there wouldn't be a next time before he himself got killed for murdering the Legate.
"I'm sure you will. Consider his offer, Klingon. You die in two days."
~o~
"Well, hello!" Damar said as soon as he spun around in his chair and saw Weyoun number eight standing there, tilting his head to the side at the Cardassian's laughter and drinking his beloved kanar at the same time. He thought it very funny to make fun of Weyoun 7 being killed by Worf - and in front of Ezri Dax, whom his predecessor had become fascinated by and would have had to himself if he hadn't been tricked by Damar into going near that damned beast beside her. Klingon tempers were always short; he would always remember that next time he encountered one again.
"I'm glad to see you find the death of my predecessor so amusing," he replied with a drop of sarcasm.
"Oh, you misjudge me, my friend. I miss him deeply." He scoffed; in the name of the Founders, it was a pathetic lie and an excuse to get another drink of kanar. "Here. Let's drink to Weyoun 7, shall we?"
He would not accept that foul fluid, just get to business. "When will the prisoners be executed?" However longer the Trill herself had as he cared not for the barbarian, he needed to find means to get her out of there himself before the execution date, and if possible, he could further delay it but come up with an excuse...
"When the trial is completed," Damar answered plainly, pouring himself another glass. "Legal protocol must be observed."
"When?" Weyoun pressed exasperatingly.
"The execution is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at fourteen hundred hours."
He'd been dead for a day and now he learned there was only one more until he lost his chance. His predecessor had promised that if she agreed to cooperate and join them, the sentence would become life imprisonment - but life imprisonment could mean other things besides sitting in a holding cell. He had other plans in mind, and other ways to get her to talk. "Have they agreed to cooperate?"
"No," Damar grunted after another swig before laughing. "Maybe you should talk to Worf again."
He thought he could spend all day humiliating him, but not for long. Not with Thot Gor and the others coming in just now. Weyoun smiled as he turned to them. "Ah, welcome to our command center!" His universal translator and good ears understood every word the Breen said, but to humans, it would be electronic garbling. Thot Gor asked him to use the consoles. "Of course, go right ahead."
"Absolutely not!" Damar objected, jumping to his feet. "That database is classified -"
"What Legate Damar means," Weyoun interrupted, "is that our entire database is opened to all of you. Feel free to examine it at your pleasure." Thot Gor nodded and went right to work, only for Damar to demand to know what the meaning of this was.
"Surely you don't mean that!"
"On the contrary, I'm quite sincere."
"They don't need to know anything about our military operations -"
Weyoun whirled around, his pleasant face threatening to drop because of him. "The decision was made by the Founder herself. She also decided that, from now on, your military recommendations will be submitted to Thot Gor and he will pass it on to her."
"I. Will. NOT!"
Thot Gor heard every bit of the objection and rounded, snapping back at the refusal to work with him, and Weyoun himself had enough. Whirling around, he fixed glacier eyes on the Legate's face. "I hope," he whispered icily, threateningly, "that was simply an unguarded emotional outburst, so I would ignore it this time. Now, make plans to do exactly as the Founder instructed, or you can schedule an execution for yourself as well!"
~o~
They were finally getting out of here; a part of Ezri was exhilarated as she worked on short-circuiting the door. She just hoped they would be able to avoid Damar or the slimy ambassador whom she now knew the Legate of Cardassia despised more than anything, not that she blamed him because of that sickly smooth, overtly polite poise and arrogance, but that did not mean she or Worf could trust him.
The Cardassians were a very prideful, egotistical race; Jadzia dealt with a fair share, and both she and Ezri pitied Garak for being cast out a long time ago, forced to live amongst people who had lived during or had people they cared about during the Occupation of Bajor. But he had grown accepted but ever remained faithful to his homeworld.
Ezri wanted to smile at her proud work, turning back to Worf and seeing as he had made a club from underneath the bed. He was ready to strike down Cardassian guards and get them out of here, not shed any tears if he killed any, and the Joran part of Ezri she allowed just a little bit agreed with him. "Ready?" she asked, and he nodded.
After taking down the lone guard outside, Worf took his rifle and Ezri his pistol, and they were out.
Unfortunately, they never made it very far before Worf ended up taking a shot to the leg, ordering her to leave him be, but she just couldn't. And look what it got them: recaptured. Now they were back to square one.
Tomorrow they would die, and today was supposed to be the day for them to get away on a transport from Cardassia. Part of Ezri felt she should have listened to Worf and leave him; he just wanted her to get away unharmed, but Jadzia would never have left her husband behind. Klingons might have war with their own partners, but at least they were fiercely loyal.
Worf's leg was "kindly" treated before they were both transferred to another cell, but not long before a familiar voice called out to the group surrounding the prisoners. "What was this I hear? That the both of you tried to escape?" Weyoun asked, his smile malicious as he looked between the both of them. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "That was most unwise and unnecessary. I was only coming back for this one..." His attention fell on Ezri. "...only to hear that you tried to get away."
Ezri sniffed in disgust when he got close enough to her, like when they first met. "That's close enough, Ambassador," she snapped, bravery coming slowly to the surface, ignoring the look from Worf. Weyoun laughed at her attempts to be brave.
"My dear, you have such fire. I like that." He gestured to the others. "Take the Klingon back to his cell; this one comes with me."
Fear clutched her heart in its icy but still blood-pumping grip. What was he going to do with her now? She barely made it two steps before something pricked her neck, and her vision hazed before blackened altogether.
~o~
"Ambassador, what will you do with the Trill?"
"You should not concern yourself with my private matters of interrogation. Hers is mine alone."
He carried her on his own volition, escorted by the Jem'Hadar, all the way back to his own quarters, leaving her with two of them and ordering them to prepare her until he returned. He wanted to be surprised when he came back with what was part of what he had in store for her that didn't involve her execution.
The fact she was still only a girl made it that much more exciting for him. Being close to her and smelling her elegant, natural scent - delicious fruits, lush florals, as well as exotic wood and musky amber - brought forth a heat rush in his body. There was no denying this was desire even though he never truly felt it for anyone. Few Vorta he knew in his eight lifetimes had succumbed to this, half of them losing in the end. He would be placing himself very deep, but he always loved the thrill of the danger. He was in the other room adjacent, examining the little token customized especially for her after what they would be doing. To have a young face with a great inheritance she never wanted but began to accept - in time she would learn to accept him at her side.
"Sir, she is all yours."
He turned and smiled at the Jem'Hadar in the doorway. "Thank you. You may leave us now."
Weyoun took the moment to look Ezri over. Her clothes had been removed, replaced with a velvet wrap - in another Cardassian's tongue, it was red with dramatic black swirls that never seemed to end - he'd found somewhere in Damar's quarters when the Legate wasn't around. All he could tell was that it draped beautifully around her form. Her wrists and ankles were secured above and below, her eyes covered with a blindfold, the vulnerable sight making him tingle with excitement.
He could not wait and see her wide eyes and her feminine attempts to fight him off only to surrender in the end.
Weyoun hastily stripped as he continued to watch her, and once his own clothing was discarded, he felt his whole body moisten, but most of all one specific area of his anatomy that seemed even more, heating beyond everything else about himself.
She began to stir, and he tried not to laugh as her body twitched as she saw her world dark, unable to see her surroundings. "Who's there? Where am I? Weyoun, I know you are there."
He chuckled and took a step forward the same time her face turned in his direction. "You have better instincts than I anticipated, Ezri."
"I knew you would still want me," she snapped, trying to struggle out of her bindings and failing. "What is going on now? This something you Vorta and your minions do to prisoners during 'personal' interrogations?"
"Not always, but you are an exception. I do not wish for the Cardassians to know this, but I do not truly desire your death. Because of how simply fascinating you are when I first saw you, and how we are not that much different, it seems."
"We are nothing alike!"
Weyoun shook his head. "That's what you say because we are on different sides. However, after I'm finished with you, you'll soon realize that we are. And once the both of us are satisfied enough, I'll do everything in my power to keep you from being executed. You'll be very pleased with the surprising results." He walked over and knelt on the edge of the side, still looking over her. "Won't you like to live instead of your life ending here?"
Ezri turned her head away from him as she felt him sit beside her, gasping when his bare thigh moved and brushed against hers. "If you're asking me to join you like the last one offered, I won't. I'd rather be dead than betray my people. That's how it is with the oh-so loyal Vorta and Jem'Hadar under the Founders, isn't it?"
He hissed and reached to grasp her thigh, firmly holding it and making her whimper and squirm, trying to break free and failing. "Offending my people will not give you the upper hand, Dax." He smiled then even though she didn't see him. "Dax...the symbiont was an interesting subject to study. However, out of all your memories of your predecessors, the ones I found more intriguing were Curzon, who mentored your last one, the wife of the Klingon, only to reject her as he was notorious to do - only for her to later on find out and abandon her hate and anger altogether some years after acquiring the symbiont, that his rejection of her was because he loved her. How interesting that was, and the fact he was also the mentor of your very own Captan Benjamin Sisko, whom Jadzia remained close friends with due to the connections. What was even more fascinating was that Jadzia learned of Curzon's love through Odo's own body."
"Stop this," she ground out.
"Onward to the woman in question, Jadzia, aside from those facts. A young woman not long after her third decade of life although bearing a three-hundred-and-fifty-year-old worm in her body. Vivacious, strong-willed, intelligent, and with Klingon pride that won the heart of the great Worf and a place in his adopted House. Jadzia who was everyone on DS9's heart and soul, which you yourself struggled with only to be accepted because you carried a part of the woman before you...only it wasn't easy with her widowed husband, wasn't it?" Weyoun told her slyly, moving over her body but not rubbing his against her. Yet. "He spurned you because you were not his beloved mate, though recently he has gotten rough on you because he thought he could have you again...but what stopped him was the discovery of your 'feelings' for Dr. Bashir."
He leaned forward so his breath was hot against her ear. His body burned and clenched each moment that passed as he enjoyed cracking her tiny but intellectual mind. "He is all you want, correct? Handsome, passionate, brilliant - but he also loves fun, does he not? You're young yourself in body, so I believe I can understand where this is coming from, Ezri." In his own mind, Julian Bashir was not worthy of a young lady like Ezri. She needed someone with more wisdom and guidance, to keep her on track. Wasn't that what Worf himself wanted for her?
"My feelings for Julian are none of your business, Vorta," she spat, twisting her body away from him. Her resistance made him angry that he forced himself to keep himself together.
"I'm afraid no longer is it private, because what is known is known. You're in no position to resist me, as you can see for yourself."
"See? You had my eyes covered, you sneaky -"
Weyoun silenced her by leaning over and covering her mouth with his. She protested but couldn't fight him off, but she DID shriek when she felt his naked flesh against hers, knowing what he truly wanted of her now, and the fear radiated off her skin. He pulled back and looked down to see her lips swollen from his kiss. The sight was simply erotic. She was breathless. His entire body rubbed against hers even though the velvet wrap still covered her; he delighted that she moaned before closing her noises off altogether, not willing to give him the satisfaction and refusing to believe she was helpless. "Ezri," he chided, "if you don't want punishment, stop resisting me. I won't be as cruel as the Cardassians, the Jem'Hadar or even the Breen, but I assure you that it will not be pleasant."
She grunted and turned her face to the other side, making him frown. "My dear, I don't want to hurt you, truly. You say no, but your body says another story; I can feel the heat from every pore." He sat back, on his knees, between her parted thighs but not touching inside them just yet. "You want me, but you won't satisfy me with a yes," he told her, knowing it was yes, and he would not stop until he got that word out of her mouth, and there was one other matter that frustrated him in his need.
"Dr. Bashir was the one you wanted to touch you like this."
"Why are you torturing me like this?" she cried. He chuckled.
"Not only do I desire you, but I am a Vorta. We are always hungry to learn; I will not make any exception and not do the same to you. You're here in my bed and far from your beloved doctor who, for all I know and despite his medical expertise, can't please you the way I will." With that, he slid off and stood beside her, reaching for her blindfold but stopping.
"If you're a good girl, then I will remove you from your restraints. Any more refusal to cooperate and I will leave you shackled. Understood?" he warned. She nodded without a word; he grinned and tugged the blindfold from her eyes.
Is this real enough for you
You were so confused
Now that you've decided to stay
We'll remain together
You can't abandon me
You belong to me
Ezri's gasp of horror was music to his ears as her broadening eyes matched her entire face. They took in his nude form in front of hers which was covered in velvet that disgusted her even though the fabric was luxurious on her skin. But it wasn't like she had a choice to wear it. "How dare you touch me when I didn't want it!" she shouted, stopping her thrashing when he tsked and waved his finger, reminding her of the consequences.
"Believe me, I didn't do it myself. I ordered my Jem'Hadar - but don't worry, they are not physical that way. I'm sure they respected your privacy."
Looking her over again, he saw how her spots started from beneath her forehead and traveled down the outer sides of her face and over those sides of her chest, disappearing down the covering and coming out again on her legs, trailing down to end on the outsides of her ankles. The question answered as to how far they went: all the way down her body. He grinned as he reached over for the top of her wrap, pausing to look at her again and dared her with his eyes to challenge him. When she didn't, he pulled the fabric from her body and tossed it to the floor, far from the bed.
By the Founders, she pleased him greatly. The spots trailed over partials of her delightful breasts, down over the abdomen and hips, and between her legs was enough for him to see the effect he was doing to her. Chuckling gleefully that the time was approaching, he leaned over and traced the spots down her side facing him, starting from the top and working down over the side of her face, her shoulder and the side of her breast, his thumb flickering over her erect nipple in the process, the side and hip only to pause when he felt her shiver and gasp. The spots were as sensitive as his own Vorta ears were. Delightfully decadent. Now that his hand was on her hip and near a certain area, Weyoun's fingers ghosted over the small concave between her hipbone and that part, caressing soft dark curls and finding how hot and damp she was.
"See, you can't fight this any longer," he drawled seductively. "Are you going to stop resisting this now?"
His fingers played with the sweet little pearl of flesh between her legs, the strong aroma of her nectar reaching his nostrils that it became harder and harder for her to say no. How could you refuse when your body responded too easily to this pleasure? "Well?" he pressed when he probed deeper into the tunnel of her sex. "Do you want me to stop?"
"No..." Her voice was strangled, her eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Weyoun withdrew his fingers and smirked at her whimper of disappointment, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking her off of him. Unfortunately, he could not taste it, so he had no comment other than how smooth and soft, and sweetly scented. "That makes all the difference, doesn't it? How a woman gives in so easily in the end." He looked down and saw her ankles still bound, deciding the ropes were worth removing. After that was done, she tried to kick him, surprising him, but he prepared for that, gripping her ankles and pinning them down. "Now, now, none of that, We had an agreement you would obey my wishes, Ezri. You're mine now, so you are here to please me, but being my slave to my every whim can wait for the time being. It's time now..."
He slid himself back between her legs, his hips subtly gyrating back and forth so his aching member was rubbing against her sensitive spot, not entering her though; it was enough to tease the both of them. Most of all, he wanted her to beg him to enter her. He wondered how it would really feel like to be inside her warm body. His own breathing hitched, and he closed his eyes, shutting her out only for the moment to feel his groin stimulate with the soft pressure on his skin. "Say please," he ordered, keeping his eyes closed until she answered him, and he reopened them to look down with victory.
"Please, Weyoun," she gasped, her eyes squeezed closed and her head slowly lolling side to side; she shrieked and arched upwards when he entered her in a single, powerful shove of his hips forward. He must have entered her too roughly, experimenting alleviating her agony by pulling himself in and out until her whimpering subsided.
Breathe in and take my life in you
No longer myself only you
There's no escaping me, my love
Surrender
"How do you want me to be, Ezri?" he purred, leaning over and kissing her gently. "Do you want me to take it slow and torturing, or you want me to make it rough and fast, burn your body to more gratification than it already is? Either way, you belong to me now, and there is no sense in not answering me."
Ezri nodded desperately. "Do it now." This time her voice was steadier than before, otherwise, this innocent little creature had given all of herself over to him, her new master. Weyoun's hips were now hitting against hers, back and forth, switching in between slow and gentle to hard and rough, whichever suited him. All that mattered was that he made her cry out, helpless to her body beneath his. Weyoun had the honors of exploring the parts covered with her spots, caressing the spotted sides with his hands and then using his mouth and tongue on the spots beside her voluptuous breasts; not only did she cry out at that, she also cried when his mouth ravished her entire curves, her nipples aching in the velvety wet heat of his own mouth. But it was also his own manhood hitting that wonderful spot inside her that he forced her to say his name each time he struck that golden place.
"Weyoun!"
Darling, there's no sense in running
You know I will find you
Everything is perfect now
We can live forever
He groaned when her name was magical on his senses. "Oh, yes, Ezri! Please your master!" After another thrust, she tightened herself around him that he didn't expect it, but it was beyond her control that he savored the feel.
You will surrender to me
There's no escaping from me
I know you want her to be
You must surrender to me
He threw his head back and groaned loud when they both found their release, collapsing on top of her and smirking into her shoulder, which she felt upon coming to her senses and shifting herself to try and shrug him off, but he didn't relent. He had her in the palm of his hand that he saw this working beautifully. That brought the next step that she would learn soon enough closer than she thought.
"Were you satisfied?" she asked between breaths. Weyoun lifted his head and looked over her features. She didn't look at him, so he forced her to when he lifted his hand and put it under her chin, turning her face around. Her eyes were glazing over with conflict - but also burning with a fire that wasn't hate. He'd broken her.
"Mmm, most definitely. Have I done the same to you, my dear?"
"Yes."
He laughed and leaned down to capture her lips. "Your honesty pleases me. And in exchange for this little cooperation, I will do the honors of delaying the trial. Damar would object, but he can't do anything about it in all honesty. You and your Klingon friend will be kept more comfortably than you are now as long as you remain here on Cardassia. Would you like that, Ezri?"
She looked like she was torn between believing him and not, but he smiled easily. "I give you my word, my precious. You're mine now, and I won't presume to keep you imprisoned for the rest of your life unless you feel you trust me now to join me. Starting with this one little favor I ask that doesn't involve information from the Federation."
Ezri was still looking at him warily. "What is it?" she asked softly, the passion between them slowly ending, changing to visible horror when he answered her, calmly and formally despite the fact they were still naked and in bed together, in the aftermath of blissful coition.
"That you agree to become my bride."
"Joined" was very sexy in a demented way, but never further than him tracing her spots and restraining her, so here you have some steam. ;) But now he just asked her to be his wife. Where does this lead for her and Worf now?