Warnings: Non-con (het), Occasional foul language
Word Count: apx. 2900
Notes: Sadly, this is still a wip I started posting on fanfiction.net. I've set a goal for myself that I will add one chapter a day to LiveJournal, and by the time I'm caught up I must have a new chapter. The gears are finally moving in my head, so I think I might just manage to make it happen!
Summary: A visit to a village covered in mud leads to a captured Colonel, and an unexpected alliance with an old enemy. Shep whump.
His babies. She wanted his babies. McKay was never going to let him live this down. Even he could not argue the Kirk Charm in the face of this request. Was Kirk ever propositioned this way? He didn’t think so. In fact, he may have just formed his own brand spanking new category. This went way beyond ‘getting the girl’.
She was still looking at him expectantly. “How can I possibly respond to that, Dala? My parenthood isn’t exactly up for sale.”
“Oh no, no, no, John,” she shook her head vigorously, “We would not require you to raise them, just help us conceive them. I understand this is not the way of your people, and to be honest, it’s not really the way of mine, but you have to understand our need.”
There were so many things morally wrong with what Dala was proposing, Sheppard didn’t even know where to start. Sure, he’d had fantasies of something like this in high school, and at the academy, and let’s face it, often enough after that. Just him, stranded on a world alone with beautiful women, all wanting the same thing every guy does. . . .
He had responsibilities elsewhere, he just couldn’t do this. He was in control, not some horny teenager.
“Dala, look, I’m sorry,” he began, “You’re a very nice looking lady, but I just can’t do this. It’s wrong.”
She stood from her seat at the table and sat on his lap, going from kitten to minx in the blink of an eye. Her hair fell forward, obscuring half of her face, and a roguish smile replaced the shy one that had appealed to him earlier. Her hand trailed slowly up his thigh, lingering between his legs.
“Please John, we will make certain this is an enjoyable experience. You are helping my people, there is nothing wrong with taking pleasure while performing your services.”
Sheppard gasped as the hand squeezed, before standing abruptly and allowing Dala to fall to the floor. “Stop!” He picked her up by the shoulders and steered her towards the door, banging loudly for the guard to open. “I told you I can’t do this. Good night, Dala.”
She offered no resistance as he led her. “Please, just cooperate John. It’ll be much easier this way.”
She sighed as the guard (Tammer, was it?) opened the door cautiously, verifying that he was not trying to escape. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
She left without another look, though Tammer did send him an accusing glare as he shut the door. Now it was Sheppard’s turn to sigh. Now what am I going to do?
The pacing began, slowly at first, but the more he thought about Dala and babies, the jerkier and faster his steps became. Fifteen steps forward, fifteen steps back. He couldn’t sleep with some woman he barely knew because she wanted to get pregnant. Children were not some parting gift to be left behind. Fifteen steps forward, fifteen steps back. How could he leave knowing he had left his child behind?
His buddy Tom had had a girlfriend in high school who thought they would always be together. Tom thought she was cute, but wasn’t the settling down type. Two months after graduation, Tom had signed up to join the Air Force with him, and told Kimmy the news. He had dreamed of touring the world, and couldn’t wait to finish basic training. That kind of life didn’t leave much room for a permanent girlfriend. Kimmy’s reaction was to get herself pregnant as quickly as possible, forcing Tom to marry her. He still became a pilot, but never got to go on his tour. He drank a lot after, and died in a car wreck DWI ten years later.
He didn’t want to be like Tom. Stuck on Nultara with a horde of kids all from different mothers, all being used by their own people like property, because of some gene they may be born with. There was no guarantee his offspring would have the gene. Beckett said it was genetic, but his mother had had brown eyes, and his were hazel. Not everything gets passed on. It would be funny if none of his children had the gene. The Nultarans could be keeping him for nothing. He tried to imagine spending his life here, with no Atlantis, no Gate travel, no Earth, no Rodney. . . no flying. Hell, he wouldn’t even get to see the sky again.
He was never watching Star Trek again.
He hoped the rescue team from Atlantis would hurry up and get him out of here already. So far he hadn’t seen any exits, but then again, he’d never actually been in the hallways while clear-headed. He hoped he wasn’t so far underground that they couldn’t find him. It didn’t matter. McKay would find a way; that’s what he did.
He actually wished he had the man here right now to talk to. Or argue with more specifically. The resounding quiet of the room was deafening. It was down right creepy. Several times he had caught himself looking over his shoulder, expecting someone to be there, watching him.
With little else to do, he inspected the food that was sitting on the table. Dala had eaten almost half her plate, and had appeared normal afterwards. The meat was cold by now, and but the lines of white running through it were interesting. White veined cows, yum. His stomach rumbled and clenched, reminding him of the cramps he had been ignoring, and he knew he needed to fill it. He also knew how bad a time this was to be drugged again.
Experimentally, he brought it to his nose and sniffed. Smelled like beef, if a little sweet. Next he lowered it to his mouth and took a small bite, letting it rest on his tongue. When he didn’t feel spacey, he allowed himself to chew and swallow. The meat was tough, but overall didn’t taste too bad. To be safe, he set the meat down and returned to the bed. He needed to give any drugs that might be in it a chance to reveal themselves.
Ten minutes and six loud grumbles later, the beef began its journey down Sheppard’s digestive system and into acid land. Once he started eating, he couldn’t stop. He went from being a little hungry to starved in five seconds flat. When the meat was gone, he moved onto the blue-kernelled bread.
As he swallowed the last of it, he leaned back in his chair and took a swig of the water, and froze. He had not intended to eat the bread or drink the water without testing it. He looked at the pitcher and realized it was almost empty. He didn’t even remember drinking it. Are there drugs that can make you unreasonably hungry? There must be, because even McKay could not have eaten that fast. They had gotten him again.
He set the pitcher back on the table, and if it thumped a little loudly, so be it. If the glass cracked a bit, all the more satisfying. Angrily he resumed his pacing. If he could get to the Control Room, he could send a transmition to Atlantis, cue them in on his location. Of course the Wraith might also pick up on it, so it was a risk he would hold in reserve.
He eyed the water pitcher longingly. It was drugged; he knew it was drugged. But he wanted more. His legs started taking him to it, and he had to wrench himself back, turning his back to the table.
What’s wrong with me? You are an officer of the United States Air Force, and military commander of Atlantis, get a grip! Control yourself. Strangely his thoughts sounded like his father, angry and disappointed, as always. If these drugs were addictive, he would be screwed on so many levels.
Some time between the eleventh and fourteenth step forward, the door creaked open, and his favorite fanatic entered his glorified prison. “What’s going on, Senzen?” Sheppard asked dangerously. “We had a deal, I help you get this city running, and you let me return to my people.”
Senzen was biting his lip again, and started wringing his hands. “I am afraid that option is no longer available, Colonel Sheppard. The night after you were taken, a Mud Storm struck our village. Everything on the surface was washed away, including the Ring of the Ancestors. I’m sorry, but this is home now.”
Sheppard’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. One little storm had destroyed a Stargate? It was a poor lie, but he played it safe. “A Mud Storm? Are these regular occurrences on your world?”
Senzen’s face was one of tragic despair. “Unfortunately so. Life on Nultara is never easy.” He smiled at the ceiling, his face now angelic, sending loud and clear the message that now such those days were a thing of the past.
“The Stargate has survived these storms before then. Why would this time be any different?” Sheppard folded his arms across his chest, letting Senzen know he didn’t buy his story for a second.
Senzen’s eyes lit up as he realized his error. “Your people will not find you. The surface is destroyed. Accept it Colonel, this is your new home.”
“Is that how you plan on getting me to agree to your crazy idea to sleep with everyone, tell me I’m here for the rest of my life, so why not? I’ll tell you now, it’s not going to happen, so you might as well let me go, before real trouble starts.” Sheppard advanced on the little man, until they were only inches apart. “Atlantis knows who took me, they won’t take that lightly.”
Senzen did not back down. “As far as your people are concerned there is nothing left of Nultara to retaliate against. We are dead. You are dead. There is no going back for you.
But there is no reason why life here should be terrible. As you said, you are here; you might as well enjoy it. Are our women so repulsive to you?”
“That’s not the problem and you know it, so stop playing dumb.” Every word out of this guy was pissing him off more and more, “There are other ways to go about this.” Maybe reasoning would work? Hey, nothing to lose by trying. “If all you want is the gene, my people have a way of introducing it artificially. It doesn’t take to everyone, but at least you wouldn’t have to wait a generation for Nultarans with the gene to grow up.”
His hand had strayed to the water pitcher again. With a hiss, he pulled it back and shoved it in his pocket. What game were they playing that would involve him constantly wanting to eat? Blackmail him with food for sex? The addiction didn’t seem that bad.
Senzen shook his head and appeared amused by Sheppard’s struggle. “I have seen the difference between your natural gene and Dr. McKay’s given one. Yours is far superior, and we must have it. And as you said, it does not take to everyone.”
“There’s no guarantee that my children will have it. Parents don’t always pass their traits on.”
“Colonel, there are eighty-three women of childbearing age in our community. I’m sure that between them, they can produce a significant enough number to serve our people. And if not, they can always have another child until they get it right.” Sheppard got a good view of missing teeth with this smile.
“We waste time Colonel. We require your assistance. Will you provide it willingly or not?” Senzen appeared to be at the end of his rope. Three Ronon-sized men appeared at the door, obviously there to subdue him at Senzen’s command.
Not good. It killed him to offer this, but it was better than the alternative. “Wait. My people have a procedure, one we know works. It’s called sperm donation. It’s basically a way for a woman to get pregnant without having sex. I ejaculate into a cup, give it to the doctor, who can then put it into the woman, and boom, she’s pregnant. No messy stuff involved. You can even pick the gender baby you want. And this can be used with every woman, not just one at a time. Just contact my people and we can set it up.”
Normally this was not a procedure Sheppard endorsed. He wouldn’t hold it against someone for doing it, but it still weirded him out. Babies came from sex, not labs. But today, today this was nowhere near as uncomfortable as the alternative.
Senzen actually appeared to be thinking it over. Sheppard held his breath in anticipation, and his body rigid, ready for an attack. Please, just take the deal. Finally he said, “I have never heard of such a procedure, and indeed it has me curious,” Please, please. “But we have been offered many wonders by outsiders who did not follow through with their bargains. It has been a hard lesson, but one well learned. Nultarans have only Nultarans Colonel. We will not accept outside help with our problems anymore. You will comply now.”
“Who screwed you over so badly that you won’t listen to reason when it’s staring you right in the face?” Heh, him, reason. Another thought for McKay to laugh at him for. What he really wanted to know was, Who screwed up any chance of a relationship we ever had with these people before we even got here?
“Far too many people Colonel.” He signaled the brutes. “It is obvious you are not willing to help us as you promised. So be it.” The men moved towards him and he fought as they wrestled him onto the bed.
“I never promised this!”
He punched and kicked, nailing one of them soundly in the kneecap, and another in the groin. That one released him, allowing him to get his right foot free to give the one holding his left leg a good knock to the head. Then Groin Thug was back and returned the favor to his stomach, making him shrink inward, gasping.
A hand grabbed at his shirt and tore it off, pulling a few chest hairs with it. The one holding his arms managed to get one into a padded restraint while the other two reattached themselves to his legs. Once both his arms were bound, the third thug started undoing his pants.
Sheppard gritted his teeth and bucked harder, trying to dislodge the man, but he couldn’t wiggle free. The goon had his fly undone and roughly pulled his pants and boxers down to his ankles, where the other two pulled them off completely. Once that was done they restrained his legs as well.
Sheppard lay there panting, humiliated and pissed. He focused on the pissed, and continued to pull at his bindings. “Bondage, huh Senzen? Sorry to disappoint you, but I think it’s sick. Kink doesn’t really get me in the mood, if you know what I mean.”
“Well then Colonel I shall just have to help you.” He pulled a vial out of his pocket and nodded to one of the goons. Since he had not been introduced, he decided to name him Bill. Bill grabbed Sheppard’s chin and pulled it open. Sheppard tried to force it closed, and felt his jaw ripping.
Senzen poured the thin liquid down Sheppard’s throat. He tried not to swallow, but laying down, he started to suffocate quickly. As Bill released his jaw, he tried to cough it up, but as he opened his throat to try, it spilled down. It was a good trick while sitting, but counterproductive while laying down.
The liquid went down the wrong way, making him cough a lot and leaving him short of breath. He lifted his shoulders, trying to get air into his burning lungs. Finally he coughed it up, only to go down the right tube. Now he was about to be drugged, and winded.
Tingling started spreading through his arms, across his chest, down his legs, and especially in between them. He could feel the bed sheet under his back and it felt so soft. Experimentally he moved up and down, and smiled as the sheet rippled across his spine. He giggled, enjoying the sensation.
A hand touched his chest, and it too was soft. He arched into it, craving more contact. It played with his nipples, and he giggled again. This was nice. He followed the tan arm up to its body, which gifted him with a view of blonde hair and two large breasts. They were nice too. They got closer to his chest and he smiled even wider.
She sat on his hips with her legs on either side of him and fingered his belly button, lightly running one finger along the rim, dipping in and out. He laughed again. This felt so good. It tickled! She moved her legs up and down his thighs, the ghost of a sensation made him move his own legs, searching for more concrete contact.
Then she really sat on him, and he was in bliss.