Oh-my-lanta! I am incredibly sorry that this has taken FOREVER to post. There has been a lot of stress put on my family the last few months, but now that things are slowly getting back to normal (as normal can be), the writing has started to flow once again.

Thank you to all those that have read, commented, liked and/or favorited this story so far. You guys truly light up my day!

I'm thinking 2 more chapters until this story is marked complete.

After that last encounter, we fell into the same routine as we had before he got himself kidnapped. An occasional breakfast here and there with no mention of our failed romance.

At that time, I was at my all time lowest. I wanted to be with him, to love him the way that we should, however with everything that was said now made that seem impossible. Essentially, we were so close to each other, yet, so far.

Thankfully, with the help of Admiral Bozarry at Starfleet Medical, my transfer at the end of my tour was to come up very soon! Possibly at the end of the year. I figured I could keep it hush-hush until it was about time for me to leave.

I didn't tell a lot of people at the time. Knowing that they knew of our relationship, I didn't want to put Jean Luc or I through the gossip mill ringer. I, of course, told Wesley, but he didn't bother to ask too many questions as for my reason for leaving. So the only person that was left to tell was Jean Luc.

As told by the code of conduct, I have to inform my superior officer within six Earth months if there is to be a transfer and with his approval, I can put in the paperwork for said transfer.

Well… I worked a little backwards. I wanted to make sure that I had a guaranteed position at Starfleet Medical, so I snooped around with some of my closer colleagues before contacting Admiral Bozarry. She, very willingly, agreed to keep my transfer to herself, of course, with the proper transfer approval.

So, in order to get his approval, I did everything I could to ensure that we were still on good terms. I kept my tongue in line and made sure not to rip out his little eyeballs. But in reality, I wanted to cause him as much pain as he caused me.

Then Kespryt…

Oh Lord...

The day started out pleasant enough, a quiet breakfast with mindless talk about gossip. I remember thinking that after getting back, I would tell him about the transfer. However my plans were put to a halt when we were kidnapped by the Pryt. Those goddamned jerks! I was dead set on leaving the Enterprise – Jean Luc – at the end of the year with no other drama holding me back.

However, because of our forced union, everything I thought I knew quickly muddled into more questions than answers that I desperately needed to know.

..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..

"Bow down to me pet and beg for mercy." The strange woman's voice drips with disdain yet is held in tight by her masterful control.

Blinking a few times to get accustomed to the dark lighting, a wave of nausea from being ripped from my pleasant dream passes. Taking in my mysterious surroundings, my heart beats rapidly against my chest as I glance around the dark room as to who she is speaking to. Noticing a body in a shaded corner, the man she is commanding to is bent down on the carpet with his palms resting on his thighs. Staring down at the red carpet in front of him, he takes a deep breath and murmurs, "I beg of you to punish me."

That's… holy fuck hell... that's Jean Luc! Then the woman must be…

Turning toward the only woman that would dominant him, I quickly jump out of her way when she marches towards her prey. Stopping in front of him, she places the handle of a whip under his chin and lifts his head. After a quite moment of glaring at each other, she suddenly strikes his cheek with the back of her hand.

SLAP!

"NO!" The cold, hard sound of her hand leaves a chill in the air as my unheard cry for help hangs on deaf ears. Slamming my eyes shut, I choke down my rising bile as the smell of sex permeates my nose and slowly crawls along my skin. Feeling my nails cutting into the palm of my hands, I silently plead to take me away from this nightmare.

Slowly peeling my eyes open to the hope that my prayer were answered, I am greeted with the same scene of both sub and dom stubbornly staring each other down. The stench of both desires surrounds them and infiltrates the large room in a heated wave, itching and silently begging each other to be resolved in the most violent manner possible.

Taking a trembling step forward, I selfishly try to get a glimpse of her face. Her perfume familiarly tickles my brain, yet with everything else from this dungeon attacking my senses, my mind is slow to think of who it could be. When I spark the courage to lean in for a closer look, I am surprised to find it clouded by a dark shadow.

Reaching out and snatching what little hair he has on his head, she pulls him towards her body and threatens in a low voice, "I want your mercy, pet. Not your fucking desires." Pulling him towards her center, she commands, "Fuck my pussy with your tongue. Make me cum and I will give you what you desire most. Fail, I will make the next five days so miserable that you will beg for the sanctuary of hell." Throwing her whip down, she pushes away his head and sways to the black leather chair next to them. When she sits, she opens her legs, inviting him to fuck her nasty cunt.

Turning back to Jean Luc, he openly stares at her, visibly weighing his options that she presented to him.

Throwing myself in front of him, I yell as loud as I can, "NO! DON'T DO IT!"

Making up his mind, he stands on all fours and crawls through me towards her. It's like I am a ghost – an unwilling participant of this nightmare of a dream – and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

Craving no desire to witness anymore of it, I spy around the room to find an exit. When I spot the door, I quickly run to it and reach for the handle. However, my hand goes straight through the metal. Taking a deep breath to calm my anger, I lunge forward to try to walk through the wall. Alas, my body refuses to go through the solid door towards freedom, trapping me in the infernal dream. Covering my ears from the throes of pleasure emanating from Rosalind, I refuse the urge to bang my head against the wall. Instead, the cold hard sting of jealousy grips my insides as I hear her shouts turn into heavy petting. With the room growing quiet, curiosity blooms and I turn to see what has happened.

He is still fucking her, but now her head is lying against the back of the chair as she rocks along his mouth. Suddenly, she becomes rigid as she grips his head to still him. Through her clenched lips, she breaths, "Suck me dry, pet, and fuck my ass just like I showed you."

Rolling my eyes, I lean against the wall and slide down until my ass meets the floor. Hugging my knees close to my chest, I cant help but stare at them. This longing desire to be with Jean Luc settles in the pit of my stomach as jealousy once again clenches my intestines. I have missed him dearly since walking away from our relationship. And although, it was the best decision I made, I still regret it with all of my heart. I just wish there was a way for us to be together, but long ago I have come to realize that some relationships, no matter how much love is being shared, is just not meant to be. I loath that it has come down to that.

"Oh, yes! Fuck me hard right there, pet." Throwing her head back against her seat, she lets out a low mumble of curse words in French.

Hmmm… Does that mean Jean Luc knows her from his village? Can't be, I don't know anyone from La Barre and he had specifically said a few weeks ago that I knew her.

Using her feet that were resting around his neck to push him away, she murmurs, "You have come a long way with that talented tongue, pet. Stand up."

When he stands erect, I am surprised to see that his cock, that is usually rock hard, is lying limp against his leg. Euphorically smirking, I wish that she could see my triumphant face. He might have been forced into fucking her pussy, but he sure as hell didn't enjoy it.

An ugly color of puce covers her body as her fingers clinch the arms of her chair in anger. Leaning forward, she grabs his hips and pulls him towards her to suck his cock.

Quickly stepping out of her vice grip, he firmly commands, "Punish me, Mistress."

Stepping close towards him, his jaw is stubbornly set as he crosses his arms along his chest.

Standing from her chair, she crosses her own arms defensively and rebukes, "My words were very clear earlier tonight. This will be the last of that type of punishment." Taking a deep breath, she steps closer to him and rests her hand on his shoulder. Softly, she tells him, "There is nothing more you can do… She's happily married." Squeezing his arm, she sympathetically adds, "If you wish, I can show you how to harness your anger and turn it into control."

Sighing in defeat against her touch, he shakes his head and mumbles, "One more time is all I ask, mistress." Glancing at her with a defeated look, he croaks, "Please."

Taking a rigid step back, she roughly grabs the collar around his neck and pulls him towards the bed.

Sensing the adrenaline pumping throughout the room, I quickly stand from my voyeuristic perch and move next to the dresser Jean Luc was sitting next to when I was dropped in here.

As Jean Luc backs up towards one of the posts, Rosalind steps over to the drawers nearby and takes out what looks to be a flogger and a pair of handcuffs. "Assume your position, pet." Gone is the caring voice from a moment ago, now she has returned to her dominant, bitchy self.

My God! I would love just five minutes in the same room with her. And if I have to hear her call him 'pet' one more time –

Cuffing his wrists to the post, she softly asks, "Safe words?"

With hooded eyes, he drones, "Yellow to slow down and red to stop."

Raking my eyes along his body, his cock is raging hard juxtaposed against his quaking, sweaty body. I wonder what this punishment is that gets him this excited.

Knowing the routine, he stands tall as his eyes flutter closed. Erasing any and all emotions from his features, for a brief moment, he looks vulnerable.

For the millionth time since entering this strange dream, I want to hold him close and take him away from this hellhole at the same time.

Smirking evilly as if she had just captured her prey, she turns and pulls out a long, red wig and stretches it over her head. Stretching her hand out, she gently stokes his cock with enough feather light touches to drive any man crazy.

Leaning heavily against the wall and crossing my along my chest, I dramatically roll my eyes. I don't have the stomach to watch this crap again. That is until I hear her mew, "I will never love you the way I love him."

What?

Almost as if he is in a trans, he slowly repeats, "You will never love me like the way you love him."

Coiling back, she strikes his chest with the flogger with her entire weight behind it.

If it weren't for his restraints holding him back, he would have doubled over. Lifting his chin defiantly, his parlor is shaken when he sees the bitch dressed with a wig. A twinge of green colors his cheeks as he tries to speak.

Obviously he had never played these games before. Or at least not with these rules.

Taking a step towards him, she smoothly runs her fingers through his chest hair as she sighs, "I will never love you, Jean Luc. You are not capable of loving me the way I should be loved."

The fuck?!

Jerking his wrists so that the cuff cuts into his skin, a look of pure humiliation and pain stains his cheeks red. Gritting his teeth, he slams his eyes shut and murmurs, "I am not capable of loving you."

Trailing her lilth fingers down his happy trail, she takes his cock once more and pumps methodically him until he visibly relaxes. Kneeling down on her knees, she takes all of him in her mouth as her hand cups his balls.

Sucking in a quick breath, he slams his eyes shut as she bobs back and forth. Opening wide, he stares down at her and bravely whispers, "I may not be capable but I love you damn it."

Popping him out of her moth, she quickly stands and strikes him again – however this time it was along his shoulder. Little angry red marks stain his beautiful skin as she demurely crosses, "Call me by her name."

A sheer look of panic quickly passes his sweaty features and for a moment, it seems as if he won't give in to her demand. Swallowing what little moisture he can muster, he softly whispers, "I love you, Beverly."

I double over, ready to heave what little I have in my stomach. Closing my eyes, the shallow sound of my short breaths along with Jean Luc's guttural groans drowns out Rosalind's obvious attention to a certain needy region. I have to get out of here. I don't think I can survive another moment. Running and banging my fists against the door, I pray this wakes up a conscious part of my brain.

"Oh, Jean Luc," her annoying voice cuts through my muddled mind, "you will never be able to pleasure me the way Jack pleasures me."

For one moment, all movement ceases and the only one to notice is the ghost about to loose her marbles while trying to make her escape. I glance at him over my shoulder, silently begging him to not say what she wants him to say. For one blessed second, I think that he can hear my plea, but in the end he mutters, "I am unworthy of you, Beverly."

I can't take it anymore! Covering my ears from the short leather strips biting into his skin, I yell as loud as I can, "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Stirring from the wretched dream back into reality, I bolt up to the sound of my heart pounding against my eardrums and cold sweat dripping down from my cheek. Turning towards the campfire, I notice that Jean Luc is still in fitful, yet disturbed slumber.

He's probably still stuck in that cold bitch's chamber being tortured into thinking that he is not capable of loving anyone.

And not just anyone…

Shuddering against the chilly night wind, I slam my eyes shut to try to erase what I saw in his dream. Choking down the vile that threatens to come up, I can still see everything from his dream.

The cold clip of her hand slapping his cheek and the moans and groans that escaped through her lips as he was pleasuring her still rings in my ears.

The sight of his raw, red marks along beautiful skin… God, what made him want to do that? Was it penance for loving a married woman? Was it punishment for exposing that love to his mistress? Or maybe both?

Jesus, that smell…

Forcefully standing and wiping the dirt and sand from my uniform, I carefully step over Jean Luc to warm my hands over the dying fire. Looking around for more wood, I place a few pieces on top and then stroke the fire to get it going like it was before I went to sleep.

The smell of sex dominated the air, however, I remember getting a whiff of something different when she passed by me. I can't remember where I know it, but I have smelled it before. It's a flowery perfume with a hint of something else… Mint maybe.

Picking up a few stray pieces of wood as I try to remember the scent, an unyielding rush of anger sweeps through me. Looking back at the sleeping figure next to the fire, my anger intensifies to full blown rage.

Damn it, Jean Luc! If you were so in love with me, then why didn't you say something?!

"I couldn't tell my best friend that I was in love with his wife." As his simple explanation carries through my hazy brain, my mind counters that he knew me before we married. With his obvious affection starting before our wedding day, why didn't he come to me before? Or confide in someone who was not going to take advantage of him?

That must have been Rosalind. She must have been able to sense his feelings for me and stopped him from confessing them with the only way she knew. Poor Jean Luc… She was the only one to see right through his rough exterior into his heart and soul and boy, did she do a number on him.

No wonder he doesn't feel worthy of our love. With her fucked up method of eradicating any and all love he had for me in the most violent manner possible, it's no wonder why he has had such a hard time accepting the relationship we have cultivated together. So, instead of just giving her a piece of my mind, now I want to slap the bitch until she begs me for mercy.

Dumping the twigs and dried leave on the fire, I stoke the fire with the longer stick we used last night. Staring as the beginning embers take hold of the dry greenery, the anger that I had just a moment ago dissipates into disappointment for not being able to notice his true feelings before marrying Jack.

Why? Would it have changed anything? Besides, my subconscious reasons, I was head-over-heels in love with Jack that I could barely see straight past the end of my nose, let alone detect how someone else was feeling.

I just wonder who that woman was! Other than recognizing her unique floral smell, I was unable to see her face. It was Jean Luc's dream I was in… does that mean he tries to subconsciously block her out even in his dreams or did he consciously try to block out her image knowing that I was going to be privy to his thoughts?

Her voice also seemed distorted, like it was being filtered.

Feeling the cutting chill from the wind roll across my body, I stroke the fire and quietly watch as the first strings of daylight reaches the earth around me. It's been a long time since I have seen the sunrise. Last time I was able to enjoy a sunrise was when Jack and I were visiting his parents cottage in Colorado Springs –

"Beverly?" His heavy bedroom voice instantly warms me more than the fire ever could. Anger with a mixture of lust and desire stirs in the pit of my belly. Now with the thought of him and Rosalind together permeating my mind, I have an overwhelming need to erase it.

Watching him stand and stretch out his aching muscles, I can't help but notice his erection pressing against his pants. I know the exact way I can get rid of that horrible dream. I have no shame. We might not be together in our corporal form but I can still fantasize about him. I soon realized after our first break up that it was the memories of our times together that kept me sane. My eyes lazily flutters as my arms hug my chest to keep me warm. Leisurely peeling off his layers one by one until his hard member stand erect in front of my face, begging me, teasing me to pleasure him until he screams my name. Staring at the little bead of moisture that drips from his tip as he anticipates my warm mouth, I stick my tongue out and lightly swirl it around his engorged head. Hearing him sigh with pleasure, I gradually slide my lips down his rock hard shaft, inch by itty bitty inch until his tip lightly touch the back of my throat. Then as I glide back up, my tongue and teeth skims along his skin. Reaching around his waist, I squeeze his fleshy cheeks as I pull him closer towards me.

"Beverly..."

His growling voice steals me away from my very pleasant daydream and I have no choice but to open my stubborn eyes. Noticing that his ears are bright pink, which sends me into a fit of girlish giggles, I see that his pressing erection has not dissipated in the slightest.

Scowling, he petulantly mumbles, "It's not funny." Putting out the fire with the sand, he then cleans up our little camp.

It was funny and all so incredibly erotic – being hunted through this unknown land and yet there is time for a mind altering blow job. If we weren't being hunted down by these xenophobic people, then I would have considered jumping him right here, right now.

However, with dawn breaking, my mind reasons that we have a lot of ground still left to cover before making it to the boarder.

Just as I sweep my foot across the sand to hide some of our tracks, an image of me lying spread eagle on a rock just behind me sears into my mind. Jean Luc is between my legs as he licks every inch of my pussy. My heart begins to pound as I feel adrenaline pumping through my blood stream when I see my body contorting from an orgasm.

Lifting my eyes, I search for the man who just altered my erotic daydream. Laying my eyes on him, his own stare heavily bores into mine as the open air around us fills with anticipated desire.

Standing from his position in front of the fire pit, I bravely take a step towards him. Silently daring him to take the next step, my eyes fall to that hard to miss bulge pulsating against his pants.

My subconscious mind, who is barely trying to grasp reality, asks why it's so hard to restrain myself from his erotic ways. My heart evenly replies, it's because I love him. My mind can come up with many reasons as to why being with him is stupid and irresponsible, but those excuses fly out the window when my heart yearns for the same love and affection he wants to willingly give.

And by now, after daring each other to move closer and closer, I can now feel his warm breath along my cheek as the heat from his palm reaches out towards my skin. Aching to give myself to him, I lean in ready to –

CRACK!

Snapping out of our drowsy, sex-induced stupor, we quickly take in our surroundings to make sure that no one is close by. The delirious anticipation of sex quickly leaves our minds as the instinct of survival kicks in. Busily covering up what's left of our makeshift camp, we start heading west towards the boarder.

However, just before I open my tricorder to check our direction, I empty my thoughts of my earlier excursion into his dream and settle my buzzing mind by promising myself to inquire about it the moment we are back on the Enterprise.

..::..::..::..::..::..

God damn it!

A tear trails down my cheek as I barely make it past the threshold into my quarters. I promised myself that I would never give that man anymore of my tears, but here I am bawling like a lovesick teenager.

Ah, hell... what am I saying, I am lovesick.

Angrily wiping them away, I stomp into my bedroom and shred my clothes off my body. Stuffing them down the cleaning shoot, I dive through my drawer and instantly dig out my favorite nightdress. It's faded from the years of use, however, this faithful dress has been with me since I first started Starfleet Academy. Pulling it over my head, I hug the soft material close to my naked skin.

Cocooning myself within the thick sheets on my bed, I finally allow myself to give into my tears.

After everything that was said and done while trapped on that hellish planet, he wanted to be together, like a real couple, but I just couldn't. Not with the memory of his tortured dreams invading my mind.

God, it was horrible. It still is. The sight of every part of his dream invading my memories, the smell clogging my nostrils, the sounds pounding against my ear drums; but worst of all was experiencing the torture she had set for him. I swear I can feel the same blows that she cast along his skin on my own. I can feel his pain, his anguish deep within my soul. And what cuts me deep is that he still protects her identity. She should –

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Bolting up from my bed, I faintly hear his baritone voice urgently demanding, "Beverly, let me in!"

Standing, I quickly grant him entrance.

Rushing in as if my life were in danger, he wildly looks around until his eyes find me. Raking over my body to see if I'm physically alright, he notices my tear stained, red cheeks and takes a sympathetic step forward. "I don't know what happened. One moment, I am reading a report and the next thing I know I feel an immense sense of sorrow. And then I saw you – No! – I felt your presence in my mind and I thought you were in trouble." Staring at my nightdress, he takes a timid step back and whispers, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

How was he able to sense my feelings. Our implants were taken out hours ago. I wonder if there is any residual effects?

"I, umm... I am sorry. I will leave now." He turns and makes his way towards the door, however before activating the mechanism, he swings back around and quietly asks, "Why did you say no?"

What? "I don't underst-"

"Earlier tonight. I wanted us to take things further, to make a go of a relationship, the proper way, but you said no. Why?"

Caught off guard, I stutter with a response. "I… ummm… well, I…" Closing my eyes and taking a deep, calming breath, I gather my wits and try to explain, "I felt as if nothing has really changed between us. I mean we have a better understanding of our past, but that doesn't necessarily help piece together our future or fix the situation we are in now." Hugging my chest tightly, I sigh, "You are still a mystery to me." Letting myself think back to the night we spent down on the planet and the promise I made to myself about his dream, I timidly ask, "You have told me bits and pieces about your past, but I still want to know about the woman that dominated you?"

Clearing his throat, he asks, "Why do you want to know her identity so badly?"

"Because I saw an incomplete image of her in your dreams and I'm curious as to who she is." Staring intently at the carpet, I'm glad for the trace lighting from the stars so that he doesn't see my embarrassment clearly colored along my cheeks. As my rushed words hangs in the stale air between us, I look up to see his jaw set tight against the anger flashing through his features. Even in the dark, I can feel the tremble from his anger deep within my soul.

"You saw my dream?" His voice starts out clipped, yet turns raw from embarrassment.

"Yes." After confirming his fear, his embarrassment quickly turns into disgust.

Turning towards the large window, he stares at the stars for a long time deep in thought. Many emotions cross his beautiful face, yet the one most prominent is pure, gut-wrenching self loathing. Crossing his arms along his chest, he quietly asks, "After seeing what she did, why do you still want to know her identity?"

Choking in amazement, I incredulously ask,"Why do you still protect her identity? She tortured you and you still…" Reigning in my anger as best as I can, I simply say, "Damn it, you can be so infuriating!" Huffing out a frustrated breath, I quickly turn away from him. A woman verbally and emotionally tortured him into thinking that he is unable to love or to be loved in return. Hell, apparently she is still doing it. "What hold does she have over you?"

His brows furrow in deep thought as he slowly explains, "She doesn't have..." He lets his thoughts run off. Shaking his head, he he quietly says, "You know her and respect her as a person. I'd hate for you to take that respect away just because of what you saw in my dream." Taking a deep gulp of air, he confesses under his breath, "The truth is, is that I wanted her to say those things to me. I was hopelessly in love with you and I wanted her to cure me of my ridiculous obsession of wanting you mind, body and soul." Staring off to the side, he mournfully adds, "I'd hate for you to have a wrong impression of her when it was I who requested her to do and say those things."

"So you requested her to dominate you? You literally went up to Rosalind and asked her if she would dominate you?" Something does not add up.

Hesitant at first, he clarifies with a side to side tip of his head, "No, that was her idea to help me."

Rolling my eyes, I can't help but let out a cold laugh. Is he so dense to see that she took advantage of his vulnerability for her own pure, selfish gain? Apparently not... "And did it work? The words, the dominance, any of it… Did it work?"

Rubbing his chin with his pointer finger, he takes a timid step towards me. "At first, I thought it did, but I promised myself to see you as less as possible. After Jack's funeral, there was no reason for me to call on you and I was able to successfully bury my feelings. It wasn't until you came aboard at Farpoint, did I begin to realize that my love never truly went away, it was just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself again."

Staring off over his shoulder, I distractedly add, "Hence the real reason you didn't want me on board seven years ago." Shaking my head, I can't help but quietly laugh to myself. "You know, it seems like every time we fight, I learn something more about you." Looking up towards the ceiling, I quietly confess, "I'm putting in for a transfer back to Starfleet Medical. After talking with Admiral Bozarry, she believes I will be able to transfer as soon as Stardate 47705." After a moment of heavy silence, I glance back at him and plead, "Please approve my transfer."

Closing his eyes, his head falls back down to his chest. "Not even an hour ago did I ask you to take our relationship further, how do you expect me to take the news that you want a transfer away from me?"

Staring down at the carpet, I mutter, "I expect you to take the news like my Captain would take the news."

Sharply lifting his chin, his eyes grow wide and wild as if I had just slapped him across the face in front of the entire crew. Then his shoulders sag as he sighs, "How about as a man who is deeply in love with you?"

"As a man who fought tooth and nail against the idea of a proper relationship for the last four years, I would expect you to accept the news as a blessing."

Throwing out his hands, he scrambles, "Beverly, I love you. Can't you-"

Holding my hand out to stop him, I shakily reply, "If you truly love me, then you will let me go."

Opening and closing his mouth several times, he closes his eyes and presses his lips together in frustration. If I were anyone else, I would have thought that he was angry, but knowing him as intimately as I do, his self-loathing is at an all time high. Shaking his head, he turns away from me and throws over his shoulder, "Transfer approved. Good luck with your future, Doctor." Without a backward glance, he marches out of my quarters.

Staring at his retreating figure and then the closed doors, my mind frantically runs though if there were any other options I could have used without hurting him. This is my only alternative, however my heart screams out that I can take him back and love him as if the past few months had never happened.

No, this was the only way.

Slipping into bed knowing that I essentially made the right decision and content with the fact that there will be no sleep for me tonight, I slowly grab my PADD to begin writing in my transfer request.

Thank you again for your patience! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.