WARNING: Some graphic descriptions here, including torture, a lot of suggestive material and potential (but doesn't happen just yet) rape. Next chapter will have it in full-force, I'm serious. So be warned.
It was now morning.
Well, at least Jim supposed it was. There were no windows, after all.
He wanted to stretch, but unfortunately for him, there was no sensation in any of his limbs, having been literally clamped down to the bed for "his own safety".
Truthfully, he knew he was confined for everyone else's safety.
His frustration was quelled by the medication running through his veins, draining away every human emotion that tried to intrude into his medicated tranquil mind.
Spock would be jealous.
Minutes later, the door hissed open. Jim raised his head to see it was Bones.
Of course.
"Jim, hey," the doctor placed himself by his side, taking a look at the monitor and reading through the results that recorded from overnight. "How you feelin'?"
Jim mentally shrugged and took a breath,
"Sleepy," he smiled drowsily.
McCoy nodded, satisfied with the documented data from the night before and sent the output to his PADD, then turned to Jim while tapping away, "We've got a neurologist to see you today kiddo. He's gonna see you every day and keep track of your behaviour under the medication to see if it's viable in the long term. Sound good?"
Jim uncharacteristically smiled and nodded, the medication forcing him to be compliant.
Bones, knowing this, sighed and gave him a pat on the shoulder, placing the PADD under his arm and standing up out of his seat.
"I'll get him to give ya something to eat as well."
But Jim was already asleep again.
…..
Two hours later.
Jim woke up to another swooshing of the door opening.
He opened his eyes, ick stuck in the corner of his lids as the drowsiness began to wear off. No doubt, it'll only be a matter of time before the next round of medication is pumped through to send him to sleep again.
The knowledge of the lack of control over his body sent waves of anger pressing into the corners of his drugged mind, but of course he was hindered any emotional reaction.
Two men walked into the room, one he recognised as Bones, except this time he was wearing a white medical uniform rather than his ordinary Starfleet blues.
Accompanying him was a slightly older man, who was also wearing whites but looked much sterner, and…familiar? He carried a medium sized medical kit with him—larger than a handbag, about the same size as a rucksack, but it was a big white box.
"Jim, this is the neurologist I was talking about," Bones walked over to him, gesturing towards the other man.
The older man gave him a smile—but not a comforting one—a smile that sent shivers down his spine. Again, all rational thought of something being wrong was washed away.
"Jim." The man greeted him, offering a hand to shake. Jim was strangely hesitant, the feeling in his gut returning.
He looked to Bones for instructions, and he nodded his approval. So, Jim hesitantly shook his hand, the grip was a little too tight.
Jim stared into the man's eyes… something about him was just… off…
"I need to be alone with him. How long do I have to spend with him?" the man asked the CMO, shoving his bag onto something behind him. He assumed it was a table.
When did that get there? He thought the room was completely empty. There weren't any headboards to block his view from behind.
Bones quickly whipped out his PADD and gave it to the other doctor. "Times are all on here. And here…" he pushed his finger to the screen and swiped a few times, "…Is the log entry for today. Any concerns or findings, if Ji—"he quickly stopped himself, "…the patient reacts negatively in any way, then log it down."
The man smiled, and placed the PADD on the table behind, right next to his bag.
"Certainly. I ask that I not be interrupted, no matter what happens."
At this, Bones paused and turned to square up the doctor. Or at least subtly express his annoyance.
"If there is something medically wrong with him, then I need to come in. No matter what."
The other doctor seemed angry about that, "No, I'm a neurologist, if something is wrong with him then be assured I can handle him on my own."
Bones stamped a foot closer to the man, "I'm a doctor, damn it! His doctor, the damn chief medical officer! I'll come in whenever the hell I please! Now are you goin' to keep challenging me until I have to get you replaced, or are you going to do what I tell you?"
The man grunted and mutter a curse under his breath, before waving him off. "Fine. But other than an emergency, don't come in."
Bones crossed his arms and walked to the door, "Whatever." Then quickly stopped and turned around, "Oh, by the way, he hasn't eaten since yesterday, so you better help him eat. Whatever you do, don't let him out those restraints!"
Then he turned to Jim apologetically, "Sorry, kid." He knew that Jim hated being in those cuffs.
A sly smirk formed on the other doctor's lips. "Sure thing, doc."
With a reassuring smile from Bones, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Jim alone with this strange man.
At first, absolutely nothing was going on. In fact, for a while, Jim thought the man had got distracted on his PADD since there was no sound coming from him at all.
Then he appeared in Jim's lines of sight, sporting a massive grin, and Jim felt anxiety pull through the medication and hit his stomach.
"Don't you remember me, Jimmy?"
Jim blinked nervously at the man who was towering above him. He seemed familiar the second he walked into the room, but his face was half covered with a surgical mask and his clothes were completely covered with a medical uniform.
But something about those eyes…
"How is your mind doing, hey? You're sectioned away from your crew now, I must have really fucked ya up." The man cooed, and walked around behind the bed again, picking up his bag. "You know, that lil' device I planted in your stomach was supposed to produce a specific chemical to make you want to come to me, to find me. I guess that didn't work as planned, so I had to find you instead!"
Jim suddenly felt sick.
"Frank?"
The wicked grin returned, the man stepping closer with a strange contraption in his hands. He'd seen that before too, but where…
"Open wide, Jimmy," the man taunted. Despite the horrible feelings in Jim's gut, the medication forced him to comply, and he found himself opening his mouth against his will.
"Good boy," the man taunted, leaning in closer and shoving the contraption inside Jim's mouth. It forced his jaw open a good couple of inches, and in seconds Jim knew that this man wasn't here on doctor-business. He then pressed a couple of buttons, and the luminating blue lights faded out, and with it, the sensation in his limbs faded back in. However, he was still clamped down to the bed.
"Your doctor friend is a bitch, you know that?" he sighed, taking out something else from behind him, then pacing back around to Jim's side.
With one hand, the man was holding a huge flexible tube, and with the other hand, he latched onto the open clamp dangling over the top side of Jim's bed and locked it over his forehead.
Jim's heart was racing in his chest.
"Bones is gonna come in here if you scare me too much," he wanted to say, even with how childish it sounded, but it was true.
In reality, all he said behind the gag was "Gahk ke gah cuh ih here ih yuh keeh cairing ne"
"Uh huh," the 'doctor' sarcastically replied, looking mockingly down at Jim. "Well, he told me to feed you, so I might as well get that out the way first, 'cos if I don't then he won't let me to come back."
And with that, the man gripped Jim's chin with one hand and shoved the tube into Jim's opened mouth, forcing the rubber down his throat, regardless of the coughing and gagging it was causing.
"What would you like to eat, Jimmy?" he asked, continuing to push the tube down further, grinning at Jim's watering eyes that were glaring at him pleadingly. He left the tube once it had slid into place, and walked away again leaving it dangling down the side of the bed.
Jim felt himself trembling. While it was good to have the feeling back in his limbs, he didn't want it to be like this.
"I don't want anything" he wanted to say. Instead he choked out "Aghhh gaaah" and coughed.
"Curry, did you say? Well that's good, because it's the only food here," the man jeered, walking back over to Jim and ripping off the top of a paper looking bag. "I mean, don't you think it looks like vomit?" he then picked up the tube and poured the contents of the bag into it, helping the mushy food through the rubber tube by gently lifting it with his hands as it slid down.
As soon as the food hit the back of Jim's throat, he bucked and started thrashing.
God! It was invading his throat, stopping him from breathing! He choked and gagged, making strange gargling noises as the man continued lifting the tube in the air to allow the food to slide in.
"That's it, Jimmy, swallow it," the man inhaled, and suddenly yanked the tube out of his throat and tossed it to the floor. Instantly, Jim's gag reflex kicked in and he jerked under the restraints, gagging and regurgitating as bits of vomit dribbled down the corner of his lips.
Jim continued practically vibrating on the table, as his body protested and tried to force him to double over to empty the contents of his stomach, but because he was clamped down flat to the table, instead he was vomiting and inhaling it again, everything pooling inside his mouth.
Frank smiled grimly and knelt down next to the shaking man, Jim's eyes following him and begging him to make it stop. Instead, Frank made hushing noises and placed his finger around the corners of Jim's stretched lips, internally cringing at the mess inside his mouth.
All of a sudden, an alarm sounded, three loud beeps screaming out every two seconds.
Instantly, Frank knew he'd gone too far and grabbed the tube that was discarded on the floor, quickly gathering it up and hiding it in the table cupboard behind Jim's bed, then leaped beside Jim and yanked the gag out his mouth, slipping it into his pocket. And just in the nick of time, he released a clamp over Jim's left arm and wrist, then darted to the door to pretend he was about to get help.
Seconds later, the doors hissed open and Bones came storming in with another doctor.
Frank, pretending to be startled, jumped and pointed over to Jim, "Doctor! That alarm just started going, he was trying to feed himself and it went wrong, look!" he pointed over at the arm that he'd just unclamped.
Swearing, McCoy raced over and shot a look to the accompanying doctor beside him.
"He's choking," McCoy diagnosed in seconds, "Release all the clamps and get him on his side, I'll get the suction,"
Jim's eyes rolled back in his head as his body continued making gargling noises at the failed regurgitations. The clamps were released and soon Jim was being hauled onto his side. Frank stood by and watched, his smirk going unnoticed by the busy doctors.
The sound of machinery turning on rang in the air, and soon enough McCoy resurfaced next to Jim with a suction in between his fingers, shoving it into Jim's mouth with one hand and holding him steady with the other.
The device began making loud slurping noises as the food Frank had forced down Jim's throat minutes before was getting drained away.
The second doctor depressed a hypo into Jim's thigh, which brought the shaking down to a minimum, and soon enough the alarm was silenced.
After a moment, Bones relaxed a little and glared up at Frank, his eyes furious.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded, removing the suction and hooking it back under the table. Carefully, the second doctor pushed Jim's body back down flat onto the bed, pulling his limbs into the correct positions, then pressed the button on Jim's bed that simultaneously clamped down all of his limbs at once.
Frank pretended to be shocked, "I tried to let him feed himself, I was just doing a good thing to get him to trust me. I left him alone for a second to get my equipment from the bag and he just started choking!"
McCoy pursed his lips together and shook his head. "He was really stressed about today…" he sighed, "It's not your fault. I know he's practically clamped to the bed but for god sake, don't take your damn eyes off of him!"
Frank rapidly nodded. Now he just needed to keep himself in the room. Surely if they kicked him out the room now they would find the tube under the table.
"What should I do now? I wouldn't want him to get stressed about this tomorrow as well…"
Bones crossed his arms together and gestured with his chin at the other doctor to the door. She made her way to leave promptly.
"You think you should carry on with the appointment?" he hissed, "He's just had a choking fit!"
Frank threw his hands up, "I know, I know! But it hasn't had a chance to sink in yet, by tomorrow he'll be terrified of doing it again," he reasoned, hoping McCoy dismissed the fact that Jim would have complied, regardless of how scared he would be. "I won't be doing much, I'll just sit by with him and run a few scans."
McCoy sighed in resignation and took another glance to Jim's monitor.
All vitals were stable now.
"Well… I guess you're right. But be the hell careful, you understand?"
Frank swiftly nodded, holding back the smile forming on his lips at the thought of having Jim to himself again.
Bones sighed, shaking his head and leaving the room once again, muttering to himself.
Before the doors closed, he shouted "You have one hour!"
Frank slipped his hand into his pocket and felt for the gag.
…..
Jim came to again very slowly, as if having thick blinds draw upwards and release him to the outside world. His throat was burning, his head pounding like he'd been hit with a baseball bat.
Multiple times.
Upon opening his eyes, he expected to be greeted with the stark white ceiling, but instead everything was black.
As his senses began to return to him, he noticed that the inside of his mouth tasted distinctly both sweet and like vomit. It smelt like bile too. He attempted to move, but this time the clamps were stopping him from the opposite side.
Then it hit him—he was clamped face down onto the table.
His little movement hadn't gone unnoticed, however.
"Jimmy!" came a cheerful voice, a hand suddenly latching onto his messy hair and painfully yanking his head upwards.
The harsh light made him slam his eyes shut again, a groan escaping from his lips.
"I've got a proposition for you, Jimmy!"
Jim moaned in a question-like tone, "Mghhh?"
"I didn't come here to doctor you back to health, Jimmy. In fact, obviously I'm the reason you're in this mess in the first place, why the hell would I do that?" Frank chuckled to himself and leaned in front of him and over the top of the bed, still latching onto his hair with one hand, and bringing back a curved little apparatus in the other.
He hooked locked it into some holes at the top of the bed. He assumed it was supposed to be a head rest, in case an exam needed to be done and a patient wasn't allowed out the room. It was portable and convenient.
Instead, Frank hauled Jim's head up by the hair and placed his chin on top of the rubber curve, locking the clamp that was supposed to be used for his forehead over the back of Jim's head instead.
Now he was trapped staring at the wall with his head in a chin rest.
"Here's the thing. If you get bad marks on your exam results with the neurologist—that's me, then Jimmy can't go to work. So, you're going to do as your told and give me the best entertainment of my life, if you know what I mean. The better you are, the higher mark I'll give you. But if you are disobedient, Jimmy, then I'll give you a very low score and you'll be stuck in here with me for longer."
Jim shut his eyes and held himself back from whimpering. He hadn't been dosed with his medication all day. He was bound to lash out soon, if Frank didn't hook him back up soon. Either way, he would be stuck in here for a long time if he didn't agree to Frank's wishes.
Then Frank got up close to Jim's ear, forcefully threatening in a harsh whisper, "And if you dare tell anyone about this, I'll pick a certain someone else as my toy instead."
Jim's blood ran cold.
Just like a few hours before, Frank approached him with a gag and menacingly knelt down in front of him, "Open wide, Jimmy!"
Heart pounding out of his chest, Jim hesitantly obeyed, allowing the gag to push its way into his mouth and force his jaw open. With the medication wearing off, he felt the burning settling in around his jaw muscles. He mumbled a whimper into the gag.
"Now, now, Jimmy. What did I say?" Frank disappeared behind him, and all of a sudden, his trousers were being yanked at.
Oh god, no… please don't.
"Now…I only have…an…..hour….with you….." Frank strained, yanking off Jim's trousers with every word. "But I'm sure….I'll think of…. something… to explain this…."
As his trousers slid off, Jim felt a hand glide along his cheeks, he shivered at the touch, and in return he was given a harsh smack.
"You have any idea how lonely it was in prison, Jimmy? Prison changes you."
Now two hands were sliding along his buttocks. He cringed and tried to think of something else. Back on the bridge perhaps, and not being undressed alone in a room subject to the madness of his psychopath of a step-father. He was horrible to him as a child, but it had never gotten as bad as this.
"I just…have this urge now, Jimmy. I don't know how I coped without it before. You're so pretty, you know that?" he ran his hands down Jim's legs with his fingers, his victim unable to fight back. "But here you are, all clamped down on this table just for me. It's like you knew I was coming!"
It didn't take long before Frank had moved onto Jim's shirt, pulling and tugging at the material. It was evident that he'd given up, however, as he had stepped away for a second and came back with something sharp, as the sound of material being torn vibrating angrily into his eardrums.
"You're probably real confused about how I was able to do this chemical stuff to ya," Frank whispered, running a finger up Jim's spine half-way through tearing his shirt off, "I'm confused too. But my good doctor friend Reagan gave me a vial for the hypo that would alter your DNA sequence, whatever that means."
Jim couldn't stop the gasp that escaped as something sharp danced down his back.
"He gave me a little device to put on your head too. I don't know how it works exactly, but he said it clamps onto the part of the brain responsible for rational thought and alters it using a microscopic bug. Now, I didn't have time to do that, as you vanished right in front of me! So, I've got it here."
Jim let out a scared moan that was building up as his hair was suddenly ruffled tauntingly.
"Hence why I disguised myself as a neurologist, thanks to Reagan's credentials. So, give it a few days, I'll convince your doctor friend to let me spend a lot of alone time with you, and I'll attach that instrument to your head while you entertain me by sucking on a dildo. Then you'll just… be a toy. No reasoning needed, no fear, no worry, you'll just…ahh, the thought of it Jimmy, it makes me so excited! Aren't you excited?"
Jim was petrified.
Frank had tried to capture Jim and make him into his little sex-toy only a few months ago and failed just because there was a protocol on the ship to beam the Captain back if he was gone too long without checking in. And he was only with Frank for less than five minutes.
There was no telling what Frank could do with all these hours of spare time with him.
Soon enough, Jim's shirt was finally torn apart, and he was naked on the table with his mouth forced open.
He was terrified of what would come next.
TBC...
...
It really looks like Jim is stuck now, isn't he? Will Bones find out what's happening in time?
Your thoughts are massively appreciated!
