Chapter 1: Clothes Kink
Clothes kink, plus bonus frottage and (arguably) salirophilia.
Elim Garak was frustrated. He’d been waiting for Julian Bashir to pick an outfit for nearly an hour, and the human didn’t seem any closer to a decision.
“My dear,” Garak said in a carefully measured tone, permitting the barest hint of his impatience to permeate his voice, “do you need assistance?”
“No,” Julian replied, voice muffled by the sweater he was removing. “I just didn’t like how that looked.”
“You look ravishing in everything you wear, of course, but we should be leaving soon,” Garak said lightly. “Our reservation is for 1930 hours.”
Julian stopped rifling through his closet and turned to look at Garak with narrowed eyes. “No, it isn’t. You always tell me we need to be there 30 minutes earlier than the actual reservation.”
Garak feigned astonishment, barely concealing the grin pulling at his mouth. “What?”
Julian rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s condescending. And anyway, I’m almost ready, and we’ll be at the holosuites in plenty of time.” He pulled on a jacket and fussed with the buttons. “Can I wear this jacket with this shirt, or is it too obvious it’s meant to be an undershirt?”
Garak sighed. “I regret ever criticizing your clothing choices. The jacket looks fine. The shirt looks fine.” When the young man shot an irritated look at the Cardassian, Garak sighed again. “We’re going to sit in the dark in the holosuite for two hours, Julian. Please, just choose something.”
“Garak, I wear my uniform all the time! And as you’ve pointed out, it does me no favors. Just once, I’d like to feel sexy walking around the station,” Julian huffed. He turned to his mirror again, buttoning and unbuttoning the jacket.
Garak felt his blood rise. He’d never admit it -- because, well, why? -- but sometimes he picked these silly arguments with Bashir for no reason except that he found it arousing. Although Julian liked to debate in certain contexts, he often complained that the argumentative flirting common among Cardassians was unnecessary conflict.
Garak took a breath, studying Julian’s outfit with showy concentration. “If you want to feel sexy, choose something a bit more provocative,” he suggested.
Julian’s eyes widened and he threw up his hands in exasperation. “Really?” he snapped. “I’m finally ready to go and now you think I should wear something else?”
Garak smiled, standing up from Julian’s bed. He walked toward the human, surveying him closely. He ran a hand along the stitching crossing Julian’s shoulders. “I think the jacket looks wonderful.” His hand followed the curve of Julian’s back and waist to rest on his hip. “But I’m not sure about these pants.”
Julian blinked at Garak for a moment, then bit his lip, suddenly coy. “Oh?” he asked, pivoting away from Garak to examine his reflection in the mirror. “I like them.”
Garak grasped Julian’s hips with both hands, and the human shivered under his touch, pushing himself back against Garak. The Cardassian pressed himself against Julian, who leaned into his touch. Garak grinned. “They’re tacky. No one’s wearing satin this year.”
Julian reached behind him, stroking the front of Garak’s trousers. Garak pushed his swollen ajan against the hand. “And what kind of fabric is this?” Julian asked, locking eyes defiantly with Garak in the mirror. He began working the clasps to open them. “I’ve felt finer Breen wool on a live sheep.”
Garak felt Julian unclasp his trousers, and he pushed the human against the mirror. Julian gasped, then laughed breathlessly, struggling unconvincingly. Garak pulled his own pants down to mid-thigh, then rutted against Julian until he everted. “I would never take fashion advice from someone who thinks purple is a neutral,” he whispered into Julian’s ear, and the human shuddered, pushing his hips back against Garak’s hard prUt.
Garak growled, grasping Julian’s cock through the fabric. He rubbed the human’s erection through the slick fabric of his violet satin pants while he thrust hard against Julian’s ass. Julian rested one side of his face against the mirror, eyes closed.
“Fuck, Garak,” the human panted. “Fuck, harder. Harder.” He gasped. “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum.”
Garak nuzzled the back of Julian’s neck, nipping the side held taut. Julian began moaning in earnest, and Garak thrust harder against the human’s ass, squeezing Julian’s testicles lightly on every downstroke of his hand. When he felt Julian go rigid, Garak bit down on his neck, and he felt himself stain the back of Julian’s satin trousers as warmth erupted under his hand in front. Julian sagged back against him, breathing hard.
Garak held the human close, dipping his hand inside Julian’s waistband. He brought his fingers to his mouth, savoring the smell and flavor of the human’s pale ejaculate. He saw Julian watching him in the mirror, all lidded eyes and glowing affection, and Garak offered half a mischievous smile before smearing semen down the front of Julian’s shirt.
The human’s sleepy eyes widened, then he burst out laughing. “You can just tell me if you don’t like my outfit, you know. It’s not strictly necessary to cum all over it first.”
Garak grinned, holding Julian close a moment longer. “I liked it plenty,” he said, kissing Julian’s neck. Releasing the human, Garak fastened his own pants in a business-like manner and fell immediately into stylist mode. “But I think you should wear the moleskin pants and burgundy shirt with this jacket,” he said, turning to Julian’s closet.
Chapter 2: Dacryphilia
Dacryphilia is arousal related to crying. Uff.
By the way, I realized this work could actually be a follow-up to yesterday's in that the boys were headed out to something in the holosuites. That wasn't my intention, but it works? In general, these Kinktober works are unrelated to one another.
Julian Bashir shifted in his seat. He’d been so proud of himself for insisting upon accompanying Garak to the holosuite to watch a Cardassian opera, but he was getting restless. It was about 10 degrees too warm in the holographic performance hall, and as it turned out, his conversational familiarity with Kardasi was insufficient for him to understand the subtleties of operatic lyrics. Garak had stopped just short of saying plainly that Bashir was too much of a crass philistine for opera, though, and Julian was determined to prove to his snide Cardassian lover that he was, in fact, cultured.
Bashir was beginning to question the decision. He suppressed a sigh, glancing at Garak out of the corner of his eye. The older man was enraptured, his blue eyes fixed on the stage.
Julian followed his gaze, trying to see what Garak found so appealing. As they watched, a sort of spotlight, composed of five beams of light in distinct colors, focused on one woman on stage. Her fellow singers receded into the darkness as she began a new song. Julian didn’t understand the words, but it sounded very melancholy to him.
He glanced at Garak again, wondering what his response would be to something so sentimental. To Bashir’s astonishment, Garak’s eyes had welled up. Julian was stunned. Garak was always so smoothly unemotional. Julian pretended to watch the stage while attempting to surreptitiously study Garak’s face. His heart clenched, and he fought the sudden urge to wrap his arms around the Cardassian.
Two tears fell free of Garak’s eyes, and Julian’s chest ached. To his surprise, he felt a sudden heat between his legs. He pressed his thighs together, trying to ignore it.
Suddenly, Garak turned sharply, catching Julian’s gaze. “Yes?” he said, his voice quieter than a whisper.
Julian blushed, his heart beating wildly at being caught staring. As he tried to formulate a response, another tear fell from Garak’s other eye. Julian’s cock stirred, beginning to harden. His blush deepened. “Nothing, I-“
Garak wiped at his tears, and Julian felt electricity spread beneath his skin. The vulnerable gesture was so uncharacteristic, and so beautiful. Garak vaguely raised a brow ridge before turning his attention back to the stage.
Julian shifted in his seat again, this time trying to hide his throbbing erection. He felt a hand on his arm. He looked up to see Garak looking at him in frustration.
“What is it?” Garak mouthed. His eyes were still full, glassy.
Julian took a breath, trying to ignore how utterly beautiful Garak looked. Tear tracks subtly stained his face, and his blue eyes were set in a delicate, shining pink. It was a picture of sincerity and emotional honesty Julian had never seen, and he found himself burning to have Garak like this.
“What?” Garak repeated silently, impatient.
Julian leaned over, close enough to Garak’s aural ridge that he could feel his lips graze the scales. “I want you,” he breathed, then slipped off the seat and knelt in front of Garak. Bashir began carefully unfastening the closure of Garak’s pants.
The Cardassian stared down at him, incredulous, but he allowed Julian to open his trousers and slip a hand inside. When Julian’s fingers sank between the lips of Garak’s ajan, the older man closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his gaze returned to the stage.
Julian smiled, pulling Garak’s trousers down farther. He spread thick, scaled thighs and leaned in, moaning softly as he pressed his face between Garak’s legs. He inhaled deeply, then kissed Garak’s ajan, which had begun to engorge. Julian licked hungrily at the finely scaled lips, pressing his fingers deep inside, stroking the way he knew would cause eversion quickly.
Julian rubbed his face all over Garak’s prUt when it emerged, smearing himself with the man’s fluids. He was beside himself with need, trembling. He unfastened his own trousers, pulling out his aching cock. Bashir lubed his palm on Garak’s slick prUt, and as he wrapped his lips around the heavy erection glistening faintly in the dim theater lighting, he began stroking himself in time to the movement of his head.
Julian lost himself in the task, sucking and teasing, caressing and worshipping. He felt overcome with lust in a way he hadn’t since the first months of their relationship. The blood roared in his ears, but he could hear the wet sounds of his throat and mouth getting louder as the music built around them. Garak stroked his hair lightly, fondly, eyes still fixed on the stage whenever Julian looked up at him.
As a crescendo began, cool hands slipped into his hair, and Garak began to fuck his face. Julian opened his throat, welcoming the thrusts. His eyes stung with tears, and he whimpered happily. Bashir matched the hand on his cock to mirror the pace and intensity Garak set.
Unfamiliar Cardassian chords crashed around them. Unintelligible Kardasi lyrics resonated in the air, plaintive and heartbreaking. Garak held Julian still, pumping his throat full of pale blue semen. Julian moaned, gagging, and came, heat spilling over his fingers.
He refastened his pants and Garak’s, then climbed back into his seat. Garak cast a sidelong look at him, more amused than bemused, but Julian could see both in his eyes. He offered a tiny smile, suddenly feeling shy.
Garak’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly. “I can’t take you anywhere,” he said, very softly, before returning his gaze to the stage.
Chapter 3: Daddy (DD/lb)
Daddy Dom/little boy is at the center of the (Dom/sub()ageplay) Venn diagram that actually has *~nothing to do with incest or pedophilia~* but if you're going to find fully consensual ageplay upsetting or triggering, please consider reading literally anything else I've ever written because this isn't my everyday. That said, it was surprisingly fun to write, because I'm 600% sure Julian is canonically a high key brat and a low key little, and because it was extreeemely hard to keep under 1000 words, but I love a (self-imposed) challenge.
Also, I'm getting a day ahead of myself (for those of us in Pacific time or earlier) because I'm going to be busy tomorrow. Enjoy the double dose.
Elim Garak glanced up from the PADD he was reading when he heard glass break. “Julian?”
He heard a sharp sigh of frustration and small pieces of glass clinking against each other.
Garak took a deep breath, set down the PADD, and stood up from their bed. Straightening his shirt, he walked to the doorway and looked into the living-dining area.
Bashir was picking up the shards of a vase he’d knocked off their small dining table. As he watched, Julian hissed an epithet and dropped the glass and flowers he’d accumulated. The human pulled a shard of glass out of his left palm.
Garak retrieved the dermal regenerator they kept next to the bed and a cloth from the lavatory, then returned to the main room. “My dear,” he said, “let me help you.”
Julian shook his head curtly. “It’s fine. Just give me the regenerator.”
Garak suppressed a sigh. When he spoke, his tone was firm but reasonable. “Julian. You’ve been storming around since you arrived home, and now we’re short a vase and an intact hand. Please, sit.”
Julian started to protest, but he stalled when Garak raised a brow ridge. “Jules,” he said warningly. Julian froze, studying Garak’s face. He was only Jules in very particular circumstances, and Garak wondered for a moment if Julian might reject the invitation.
After a long pause, Jules threw himself down into a chair at the table, sulking.
Garak handed Jules the cloth. “Thank you. Put pressure on the wound.” Jules grudgingly complied, not meeting Garak’s eyes. The Cardassian grabbed the handbroom he used to clean up after his potted plants. By the time he’d disposed of the remaining glass and flowers, the bleeding had stopped.
Garak sat down perpendicular to Jules. He examined the wound, then ran the dermal regenerator over it until new skin appeared, shiny and pink.
“Thank you, daddy,” Jules mumbled. He stood abruptly, causing the table to wobble. Garak saw clearly how the vase had fallen.
Jules dug through a pile of PADDs on the coffee table. Garak sighed. “Jules, have you eaten?”
“Yeah, I think I had breakfast.”
Garak sighed again. “Jules . Focus, please.”
The human turned to him, finally meeting his eyes.
“It’s almost 1800 hours. Even if you had breakfast, and I suspect you didn’t, you need to eat. Sit.”
Jules complied, pouting. Garak ordered a simple meal of dal makhani, fried plantains, and Tarkalean tea, some of his boy’s favorites, along with a mug of tulsi tea for himself.
Despite the stubborn set of his jaw, Jules ate obediently.
“My good boy,” Garak said softly. “You’ll feel better after you eat.”
“No, I won’t,” Jules grumbled, finally speaking again. “I couldn’t do anything right today.” His eyes welled with tears, and he glanced up at Garak. “And then I broke your vase, daddy. You like that one.”
Garak’s heart melted. “Jules, don’t you worry about that. I have plenty of vases and plenty of replicator credits.” He paused. “Do you want to talk about today?”
“All right. We don’t need to. Do you want a hug?”
“Not right now.” Jules glanced up, shy. “Can I have a kiss, daddy?”
“Of course, my dear.” Garak stood and kissed Jules’ hair.
Jules smiled sweetly, then returned to his meal.
When he finished, Garak returned their dishes to the reclamation unit. He turned to his boy. “How are you feeling?”
Jules shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel bad about today.”
“Let’s lie down,” Garak suggested. “You didn’t sleep much last night.”
“I’m not tired, daddy,” Jules whined.
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Jules,” Garak replied crisply.
Jules stood, huffed in frustration, and walked to the bedroom. He lay down, but the line of his body was tense. Garak kissed his cheek and started to rise, but Jules turned toward him, looking fussy. “I’m not tired, daddy” he complained again.
“I think you are,” Garak said smoothly, sitting back against the headboard. “But you’re too upset to feel it.”
“Maybe,” Jules conceded.
“Can I pet your hair?” Garak asked, looking down at his boy.
“If you wanna, daddy.”
“No,” Garak said firmly. “Only if we both want me to. Do you want me to?”
Jules thought about it. “Yes, but I want you to rub my back, too.”
“I’d love to, my sweet boy.”
Garak lay on his side, and Jules curled against him, burying his face against Garak’s chest. Garak stroked Jules’ back and hair in long, soothing motions. Jules relaxed at first, but he gradually tensed again.
“What is it?” Garak asked.
“I’m so tired, daddy, but I can’t stop thinking. I just wanna sleep,” Jules whimpered, his voice small.
“I’m sorry, darling.” Garak kissed Jules’ hair.
Jules pulled back from Garak’s chest. He looked shy again. “Can you...can you give me a special massage? The inside kind?”
“Of course, beautiful boy,” Garak murmured. “Under the covers or on top?”
Jules smiled impishly. “Under. I want to be warm.”
Jules removed his clothes, and they got into bed properly. He nestled his back against Garak’s, and Garak wrapped his lower arm around his boy. He lubricated a finger inside his ajan, then slowly worked it inside his boy, who mewled happily.
They lay together, warm, Garak gently massaging Jules, who began to whimper, his body clenching around the finger inside him.
“Daddy,” Jules whispered. “Daddy, that feels so good.”
“My gorgeous boy,” Garak breathed into Jules’s ear, earning a squirmy giggle.
Jules breathed faster, his body flexing. “Daddy, I’m almost there. Daddy, I love you. Daddyiloveyouiloveyoudaddyloveyoudaddy,” he babbled, tensing in Garak’s arms as he came.
“I love you too, sweet boy,” Garak whispered, gently slipping his finger back out. He’d caught Jules’s mess in his other hand, and he surreptitiously wiped it on a hand towel kept on the night table for just that purpose.
“Daddy, will you stay til I fall asleep?” Jules asked, his voice soft, eyes closed.
“Of course, darling.”
Chapter 4: Roleplay
In Melora and Other Distractions, one of the memories Julian recalls while masturbating is a holosuite roleplay scene he and Garak enacted in which Julian is an expelled student trying to convince the dean of his university to re-admit him by sleeping with him. I decided to write that out for the "roleplay" prompt from my Kinktober list.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, sir,” Julian Bashir said, seating himself in a chair opposite the grand desk at which Elim Garak — currently, Dean of Starfleet Academy — sat with the air of someone accustomed to wielding great power. Julian’s voice was quiet, nervous. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to explain myself.”
Garak scoffed dismissively. “I’m not sure what you intend to explain. You cheated. Expulsion is the customary consequence. And a medical student in their final year! You’ve certainly been here long enough to understand accountability.”
Julian blushed. “There were-” He paused, shook his head. “You’re right, sir. I knew better, and I did it anyway. I just-“
“Then I’m not sure what there is to talk about, Mr. Bashir,” Garak said flatly.
Julian felt his blush deepening. “I just need to graduate so badly. Becoming a Starfleet doctor is all I’ve ever wanted. My family has sacrificed so much. I’ve sacrificed so much. I panicked, and I made a terrible choice, but if there’s anything I can do to have another chance at my dream...I’d do anything. Please.” He looked at the Dean pleadingly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why did you do it?” Garak asked, eyes unreadable.
“What?” Julian asked, surprised.
“You said you panicked. Why?”
Julian swallowed uncomfortably, stalling.
“I want an answer, Mr Bashir.”
“I was distracted, sir. I couldn’t focus, and when the first exam came round, I knew I’d do poorly. So I cheated, sir.”
“Distracted? You were an honor student before this.”
“Yes, sir. I- my reasons are personal, sir.”
“And if you want me to consider your appeal, you’ll tell me anyway.”
Julian took a shaky breath. “I was- Dr Vexj, um, he was-” He paused, averting his eyes. “I’m so attracted to Dr Vexj I can hardly be in the same room with him, sir. It was hard to attend lecture. And it got worse when he started approaching me about my attendance. I just- it was impossible to keep a clear head around him, sir.”
Garak raised a brow ridge. “Denobulans produce intoxicating pheromones, but there are no recorded cases of humans being affected.”
“I can’t explain it, sir.” Julian shook his head. “I’m so embarrassed. It’s foolish. Crude.”
“How did you imagine it?”
“What?” Julian blurted.
“When you imagined yourself with Dr Vexj, how did you imagine it?”
Julian was silent, stunned.
“Answer me, Mr Bashir.”
Julian struggled to steady his voice, cheeks burning. “I’d think of him, um, fucking me in the classroom after everyone left.” He paused, and Garak nodded as if to continue. “Or I’d imagine- I’d imagine him fucking me in front of everyone.” Garak nodded again. “He’d bend me over a table in front of them, like he- like I was a toy.”
A rustling sound made Julian look up. The Dean had opened his pants, and one hand disappeared inside, stroking between his legs. Julian gasped, and arousal surged through him.
Garak met his eyes. “What else?”
Julian was mesmerized by the obscene movements of The Dean’s hand. “Sometimes I’d imagine sucking him off beneath his desk.” His own cock twitched. “A few times, I imagined him catching me masturbating in the bathroom after class. He’d make me finish in front of him, then fuck me against the wall.” His cock strained inside his trousers. “And sometimes I’d imagine him calling me to his office. Making me ride his cock. Fucking me across the desk. Punishing me for sitting in his class with an erection.”
The Dean slid his trousers down, exposing a huge, glistening prUt emerging from his swollen ajan. Julian stared.
“Like this? You, so hard you can’t hide it? Him, knowing how much you want him?”
The Dean’s dangerous blue eyes seared Julian. “Come here.”
Julian stood, shaking, and rounded the desk. The Dean slid a finger beneath the waistband of Julian’s pants, teasing. Julian burned with shame and arousal, his cock straining under the fabric.
Garak suddenly grasped the front of Julian’s pants, ripping them open. Julian gasped. His underwear were damp with precum. Garak leaned forward to smell him, then leaned back, expectant.
Julian removed his ruined pants, then his underwear. He turned, but Garak caught him by one thigh.
“What are you doing?”
Julian was mortified. “I thought- I thought we-“
“Ask, Mr Bashir.” Cold. Cruel.
Julian’s voice faltered. “May I- please- will you fuck me, sir?”
“Yes, Mr Bashir.”
As Julian lowered himself over Garak’s prUt, he grasped the leather-padded arms of the chair for leverage. He keened as he stretched around the thick base, familiarity made new in the fantasy they’d built. As Julian began to ride up and down, he whimpered desperately.
The Dean’s hands gripped his hips, hard and demanding.
“Is this what you imagined, Mr Bashir?”
“Yes, sir,” Julian gasped.
“Is this why you came here today, Mr Bashir? To fuck your way back into school?”
“Yes, sir,” he panted, rolling his hips the way he knew Garak loved.
Garak laughed derisively. “Disgusting.”
Julian moaned at the word, fucking himself on Garak’s erection with abandon. He felt filthy, beautiful, wanton.
Suddenly, the Dean grabbed him, slammed him onto the wide wooden desk. A cool hand slapped his ass, hard, and he squealed, rolling his hips against empty air. Garak roughly spread him open and plunged back inside, brutal. Julian yelped. The Dean set a punishing pace, fucking him so hard he cried out under the impact of each thrust.
Garak shifted slightly, and suddenly Julian saw stars. His prostate lit up, and he felt he might implode. Julian came with a wail of anguished pleasure, collapsing. The Dean caught him and held him in place, grunting as he filled Julian’s ass.
Julian felt himself picked up and laid gently on the desk. Garak pulled a blanket around them both. Quiet fell for a long moment.
“Was that what you wanted, my dear?” Garak asked softly, breaking the silence.
“Mmmm,” Julian murmured. “Yes. Thank you.”
Chapter 5: Urophilia/Watersports
Urophilia is sexual arousal related to urine (peeing on, getting peed on, holding it, pants wetting, etc). I'm extremely prissy and have no personal interest in this at all, but I did a bunch of research and reading, and it ended up being fun to write. Bonus voyeurism.
Julian Bashir was tapping his access code into the holosuite panel when Quark sprinted up and swatted his hand.
“Your reservation with Garak doesn’t start for another 15 minutes!” Quark panted, holding his side as he caught his breath.
Bashir sighed and rolled his eyes. “He’s already in there, and there’s no point in me waiting around until exactly 2100 hours. We’ll be sure to pay you double for the time.” He shouldered Quark away and entered the code.
“Wait!” Quark insisted, but Julian stepped into the holosuite, tapping the do not disturb key. Bashir rarely used it, but he’d had a long week, and the last thing he wanted was to spend 15 minutes arguing with Quark when he could be relaxing with his lover.
The Cardassian cave spa was warm and dark, full of gentle percussive string music and the sound of flowing water. Bashir removed his clothes, piling them next to Garak’s neatly folded clothing. His eyes began to adjust, and he followed a row of torches down the dimly lit hall that led out of the antechamber.
Reaching the main chamber, Julian saw Garak reclining on a slanted hot stone slab near the middle of the space. He was surrounded by holographic Bajoran spa attendants, and Julian’s heart jumped, wondering if something had happened.
Walking quickly toward the Cardassian, Julian tried to assess the scene. “Garak, are you-?” The words died in his mouth when he realized what was happening.
The spa attendants were urinating on Garak, who was lying blissfully still, eyes closed. One was soaking his hair while another aimed a stream over his chufa. Rivulets ran down his neck but were interrupted by three other attendants pissing on Garak’s chest and torso. A sixth attendant stood at the foot of the slab, directing a particularly hard stream between Garak’s loosely spread thighs, hitting his ajan hard enough that it splashed in all directions.
When Julian said Garak’s name, the older man’s eyes flew open. He sat up slightly. “Julian?” he asked, sounding genuinely uncertain.
“Hi,” Bashir responded, covering the remaining distance. “I’m...sorry to barge in on you. I can go back to the antechamber if you want some privacy.”
Garak looked closely at Julian’s face, gesturing at the attendants. The streams of urine stopped. “I’m surprised to see you here so early, my dear, but you don’t need to leave — unless you’re uncomfortable, of course.”
Julian shrugged slightly. “To be honest, I’m more intrigued than uncomfortable.” He glanced at the attendants, then back at Garak. “Don’t stop on my account.”
Garak nodded. “As you know, Cardassians don’t urinate, and I thought it might be taboo. After you urinated on me once during a water shower, I was interested in doing it again — it’s so warm, and I can smell you in it — but you never offered.”
Bashir was surprised, then chuckled. “We both have some awfully taboo tastes, Garak. You can always ask.” He paused. “This situation is actually pretty arousing. Can I watch you do what you were doing?”
“Certainly, my dear. The program lasts approximately nine more minutes.”
Julian called for the holosuite to produce a chaise lounge, a side table, and a glass of spring wine. He sat, sipping his wine.
Garak lay back down, closed his eyes, and gestured for the attendants to resume. Julian could see his body relax under the spray, and his ajan was swelling noticeably. Julian traced his fingers lightly over his own cock.
Garak sighed deeply, and the tip of his prUt emerged from between engorged ajan lips. Two of the attendants pissing on his torso moved to join the forceful urinator in peeing between his legs. Garak began breathing heavily, deep measured breaths. After a few minutes, his prUt everted fully.
Julian sipped his wine, teasing his hardening cock. He supposed a holosuite was a far more reasonable setting for this kind of play than his quarters or Garak’s. His bladder certainly didn’t have the capacity for this particular scene, and the clean up time was unbeatable. Garak’s body language was interesting — he looked more relaxed than aroused, aside from the thick erection he sported.
Garak breathed rhythmically, and his body began to flex in time with his breathing. Julian gripped his own cock harder, transfixed. When Garak came, he moaned softly and shot pale blue semen across the legs of one attendant.
One by one, the attendants retreated into the shadows, until only attendants at Garak’s head and between his legs continued to urinate, gently now, in his hair and over his slowly retreating prUt. Garak breathed evenly, looking close to sleep.
Julian stood, setting down his empty wine glass. As he approached, Garak opened his eyes. They settled on Julian’s bobbing erection.
Garak gestured at it with his eyes. “Did you enjoy that, my dear?”
Julian smiled down at him. “I did,” he purred, stroking himself. “But now I’m feeling territorial. Male mammals have strong-smelling urine to mark their territory, and these holograms just laid claim to something that’s mine.”
Garak’s eyes glinted. “Yours?”
“Mine,” Julian repeated, voice firm.
“Prove it,” Garak said archly.
“Computer, remove holographic attendants. Reduce stone slab temperature to 43 degrees Celsius.” Julian stepped onto the slab, straddling Garak. He reached between the Cardassian’s legs, smearing one hand with Garak’s fluids, then moved one foot next to Garak’s head while the other stayed near his hip.
Julian stared down into Garak’s eyes as he jerked his cock. The older man watched him with an intensity that made Julian’s cock ache. When he came, his semen streaked Garak’s chest, neck, and face.
“Please,” Garak said softly, placing his hands lightly around Julian’s ankles.
Holding his gaze, Julian nodded. He held his now-flaccid cock with one hand, directing a stream of piss over Garak’s hair, face, chest, ajan, and thighs. Rivulets of piss and cum trailed down Garak’s chest.
“Thank you,” Garak murmured, eyes warm and lidded.
This take is reeeally over the top, but if Cardassians excrete like most lizards, they wouldn't urinate in the conventional mammal sense, so it might be sort of fun and novel enough for Garak that he'd want to play with it in a more extreme way. At least, that's my theory ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chapter 6: Toys
Toys! Speculation on some highly specific Cardassian toys, for that matter. Bonus food play, electrical play, and semi-public sex. This one might end up being a rough draft for a longer scene in my canon-compliant(ish) series rewrite, because keeping this under 1000 words was really really hard -- I cut close to 300 words and could have written even more than that.
“A thong?” Julian Bashir asked, surveying the gift Elim Garak had just given him. “I don’t get it.”
“You’ll see, my dear,” Garak said smoothly.
Julian shrugged, handing Garak a small box. “Here’s yours.”
Garak examined the items inside approvingly. “You found a chuva’rrtik,” he grinned. “And an irllun’rrtik.”
Julian kissed him, stuffing the thong into his shoulder bag. “See you at dinner.”
Garak arrived first to Quark’s. Sitting in the second-story corner table he and Julian reserved for their monthly gift exchange dinner, Garak carefully adjusted his trousers to prevent them from sitting taut against his new chuva’rrtik.
These dinners were usually foreplay, a series of promises and threats about the ways they’d torture one another with their new toys upon returning to their quarters. This month, though, they’d agreed to wearable toys.
Garak was excited. He’d decided against undergarments, and he wore a looser cut of trousers to accommodate the vibrator clipped over his chuva — and, honestly, to make eversion more comfortable, if it came to that. The vibrator ring rested promisingly on his irllun ridge.
Julian approached, smiling at Garak. With a subtle movement of his thumb, Garak tapped the side of the new metallic ring he wore on his index finger. Julian’s eyes bulged. He blushed, looking around. Garak tapped again. Julian sat down, leaning forward.
“It’s electrical? My god, Garak,” the human said, voice hushed with awe. He sat back, blinked, and laughed. “And remotely controlled! Just when I think I’ve got one up on you.”
Garak smiled serenely, masking his excitement. A double-tap, and Julian closed his eyes, suppressing a moan.
“Fuck,” Julian breathed. “Yes, please.” He opened his eyes. “I’m safe to touch conductive materials, right?”
“Perfectly,” Garak replied.
“Great,” Julian said, and he removed a small round control pad from his bag. It disappeared into one hand.
Garak waited, but no sensation came. The server arrived to take their orders. Nothing. Garak changed the pulse pattern on Julian’s underwear to a low, oscillating intensity. Julian looked at him with heated eyes but didn’t use the control pad.
The server returned with drinks. Garak expected Julian to try to catch him off guard, but nothing happened. He began to feel impatient, growing wet with anticipation. He suspected that was the game, and carefully maintained a bland expression.
Another tap raised the intensity, and Julian abruptly set down his drink, mouth open as he struggled for control. Garak saw his slim hips begin to flex involuntarily.
“You look tense, my dear,” he drawled.
Julian picked up his glass again. “Just- enjoying- this springwine,” he said haltingly. Garak turned the electricity off suddenly, and Julian slumped. “You’re awfully cruel tonight.”
“No more than usu-“ Garak began, then faltered as the chuva’rrtik and irllun’rrtik both warmed noticeably. They heated to around 55C, Garak estimated. The pleasure was almost overwhelming. He took a leveling breath. “So there’s a warming function.”
Julian smiled, sipping his wine. “Yes.”
Garak struggled to focus as the delicious heat spread.
“Do you like it?” Julian pressed.
Garak looked at him through coyly narrowed eyes. “I do,” he admitted. Another tap sent irregular pulses across Julian’s underwear.
They stared at each other, pupils blown, breathing unevenly.
When the server arrived with the food, they smiled politely. Alone again, Garak proposed a truce while they ate.
“Oh, absolutely not,” Julian grinned. “This is touching nerves I didn’t know I had. And I have plans for you.”
Garak raised a brow ridge. “Plans?”
“Mm,” Julian confirmed. “I love watching you eat. I’m going to like it even more tonight.”
Suddenly, both vibrators began to hum, so faintly Garak had to focus to feel them. He looked at Julian.
“Eat,” the human said simply, picking up chopsticks.
Garak did the same. After his first piece of sushi, he noticed the vibration intensified slightly. It increased again with the next. Julian smiled at him, then closed his eyes under a particularly delicious jolt of electricity.
By the time Garak had eaten eight pieces of sushi, the vibration was strong and heavy. He moaned softly with every intensification. The ninth brought a pulsing pattern to his chuva that stopped him dead for a full minute as he struggled to control himself.
Garak tapped, focusing sparkling electricity on Julian’s testicles and asshole. The human gasped, gripping the edge of the table.
They stared hard at each other, panting softly.
The server returned. “The food is perfect,” Julian purred, feigning calm, “but we need to discuss something, so we’ll just ring you when we’re finished eating.”
The server nodded and left.
“I thought you were excited about being in public, Julian,” Garak teased.
“To an extent,” Julian replied, grinning. “I don’t want him here when I make you cum in your pants.”
Garak raised a brow ridge archly, then held Julian’s gaze as he ate another piece of sushi.
The irllun’rrtik began to expand and contract, squeezing the sensitive base ridge. Garak everted, gasping.
Julian raised an eyebrow. Garak nodded. He no longer cared about controlling himself. He eagerly ate a piece of sashimi. The squeezing intensified, and a swirling sensation pulled a moan from him.
Garak glanced around. There were a few populated tables, but none within earshot. He ate two more pieces of sushi in rapid succession. The swirl intensified, pushing him over the edge. Garak locked eyes with Julian, moaned, and came hard.
The human was breathless, squirming. A tap. Julian’s back arched. His hips rolled, flexing. He groaned helplessly. Garak watched him, sated from his own climax but engrossed with Julian’s gorgeous pleasure and the involuntary movements of his body.
Another tap, and Julian clapped a hand over his mouth, muffling a strangled cry of pleasure that sent shivers through Garak. A final tap, and Julian slumped, relaxed, against the seat back behind him.
They panted, eyes locked, for a long moment. Julian reached across the table and took Garak’s hand, squeezing it. Garak squeezed back.
"Thank you, love."
“Thank you, my dear.”
Chapter 7: Mirrors/windows
I couldn’t decided between windows or mirrors from the prompt, so this is both. Katoptronophilia (mirror kink) plus bonus voyeurism, exhibitionism, size kink, and cuckolding.
Elim Garak set down his kanar, stood, pushed his trousers to his knees, and seated himself again, never looking away from the spectacle before him.
Indeed, he’d been transfixed for nearly half an hour. Garak sat in darkness, staring into a small, brightly lit bedroom through a one-way mirror covering one wall. Inside, Julian Bashir was being fucked senseless by a tall, muscular Takaran. As Garak watched, utterly rapt, he began to stroke his hard prUt.
That afternoon, Julian had stopped by Garak’s shop to invite him to the holosuites for a “surprise” he wouldn’t name. Intrigued, Garak had agreed.
When he’d arrived to the holosuite, Garak found a chair next to a small table set with a candle, a real bottle of kanar, a glass, and a note.
Since we both like to watch — enjoy! Love, Julian
P.S. Blow out the candle when you’re ready
Garak pondered the note, then poured a glass of kanar. He took a sip, savored, and blew out the candle.
The room had appeared then. Julian was inside, looking closely at what Garak realized was a mirror. The young man inspected his reflection. He ran his hands over his ribs and waist, then opened a door that turned out to be a closet. He pulled out a long, gold charmeuse tunic Garak had made a few months prior. Turning to the mirror, Julian removed his uniform playfully, making seductive faces at himself. When he’d stripped down to his underwear, he grasped his cock through the fabric. Garak smiled slightly when Julian flexed his abs and chest.
Julian dug in the closet. Watching himself, he removed his Starfleet issue briefs and put on a pair of maroon silk panties. Julian posed, grabbing his cock, running his hands over his ass, flirting with himself.
Finally, the human donned the tunic. It flowed over him, golden fabric shining softly in the warm light.
A chime. Julian answered the door, and a stunning young Takaran man entered, grasping Julian by the hips and kissing him.
Garak felt heat rising between his legs. This was unexpected — and outrageously erotic.
Julian twisted in the Takaran’s arms to face the mirror. Garak watched Julian watch the Takaran run his hands all over Julian’s body. They watched the man kiss Julian’s neck, his green and blue skin flushing purple. Julian rolled his hips, pressing himself against the powerful body holding him.
Julian turned to kiss the Takaran again. He jumped, wrapping his legs around the larger man in a way that made his tunic ride up obscenely.
Garak was entranced. He sipped his kanar, relishing wet and swollen his ajan felt.
The Takaran sat on the bed, leaning back so Julian straddled him. Julian began to grind on him, tunic around his hips. He made love to himself in the mirror, thighs and ass flexing enticingly. The Takaran moaned, caressing Julian’s hips and thighs.
Holding his own gaze, Julian raised himself onto his knees. He crossed his arms and pulled the tunic off, then ran his hands down his body. He stroked the maroon silk over his straining cock, biting his lip.
The Takaran turned them over, pinning Julian, who laughed breathlessly and spread his legs invitingly. The Takaran kissed Julian, then stood to strip off his own clothes.
Garak gasped at the naked Takaran. A very erect blue-purple organ in the shape of the bowling pins Julian had introduced Garak to last year projected from between the alien’s legs. It was perhaps 23 centimeters long and 6 centimeters in diameter across the wide head. Arousal pulsed inside Garak.
The Takaran smeared lubricant on his length, then crawled over Julian. The man kissed Julian’s neck and chest. Julian giggled, watching himself being doted upon. He spread his arms, creating a posture of graceful submission.
The Takaran removed Julian’s underwear, then slowly pulled a large plug from Julian’s asshole. The human keened, watching it emerge.
Garak had been fighting eversion, but he let go at the sight. He waited breathlessly, almost trembling with the desire to see Julian speared on that huge, blue-purple organ.
Julian seemed to be thinking the same, because he looked at the Takaran, writhing coyly. “Fuck me,” he commanded, his voice demanding and breathy at once.
Julian watched, open-mouthed, as the Takaran sank into him. Julian’s face contorted as the performance of ecstasy gave way to the blinding tension-pleasure of the moment.
Julian whimpered, writhing as he adjusted to the stretch. When the Takaran began to thrust, Julian squealed, watching himself grimace beautifully.
Now, the Takaran had picked up speed, and although Julian had relaxed slightly, he still gabbered and cried out under each thrust. Garak stroked himself, watching Julian’s lidded eyes fixed on the mirror.
The Takaran pulled out, sat back, and pulled Julian onto his huge phallus again, facing the mirror. Garak felt they were staring straight at him. The Takaran held Julian tightly, twisting a nipple while Julian rode hard, sweat running down his body. His cock bobbed, glistening with precum. Julian’s head was thrown back, resting against the man’s collarbone, eyes trained to the mirror.
When the Takaran grasped Julian’s cock, Julian’s cries crescendoed. Garak felt drunk, dizzy with arousal. As he stroked himself, he slipped two fingers inside his ajan, bracketing his irllun, pulling roughly.
When Julian came, he screamed, body wracked by waves of pleasure. He flexed and writhed, eyes rolling back, sleepy eyes that watched the way the aftershocks of his orgasm shook him.
As Julian came, Garak moaned, stroking himself inside and out. His own orgasm washed over him, painting the glass with pale blue semen.
“Computer, program Bashir mirror 2,” Julian said, and the bedroom and Takaran disappeared. Garak found the chair he sat on replaced with an oversized sofa. Julian climbed on top of Garak, kissing him hungrily. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so fucking much.”
Garak smiled into their kiss, pulling Julian close.
Chapter 8: Blindfold
I once attended a class at a sex shop in the area where the facilitator repeatedly recommending eating ass blindfolded. I didn’t write that exact scene, but I tried to bring their gusto to this. Bonus sensory deprivation play, teasing, scent kink, and face-sitting.
Julian Bashir was shaking so hard he had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from clacking.
“Relax, Julian,” Elim Garak chastised gently, his voice soft. In another context, it might even have been soothing. “Breathe.”
Bashir struggled to comply, listening for Garak’s footfalls as he circled slowly. Julian lay on his back on a soft blanket draped over his oversized coffee table. He was naked, arms at his sides, legs folded like he was sitting cross-legged. The position suggested relaxation, but the tension in his body was agonizing.
“Breathe,” Garak repeated, near Julian’s head. The human held his breath, trying to determine Garak’s position. “Breathe, my dear.”
Julian felt a cool finger graze his left shoulder, and he jumped like he’d been stung. The blindfold over his eyes prevented him from seeing Garak’s reaction, but he imagined a faint smirk. They’d been at this for no more than 20 minutes, but it felt like hours. Garak speaking softly, moving silently, touching Julian at intervals that seemed to have no pattern at all. The suspense was excruciating.
Warm breath heated the skin of his right inner thigh, and Julian whined. He squirmed slightly, blushing. His half-hard cock swelled further.
Garak chuckled near his feet. “Listen. Feel. Breathe.”
A finger trailed across the palm of Julian’s right hand, and he gasped, cock twitching. He tried to steady his breath.
Time passed. A claw stroked the right side of his neck, and Julian jumped again.
Gradually, Julian realized the room had gone still. He waited, but heard nothing, felt nothing. His heart beat wildly in the silence. More than silence. He couldn’t sense anything beyond the blanket under his body and the blindfold on his eyes. He wondered if he was alone. He didn’t think so.
Bashir wasn’t sure how long the stillness lasted. He began to count his breaths to mark the time. The sound comforted him at first, but it became almost deafening.
The stillness dragged. A hot flush washed over him from his scalp to his thighs. He became so self-conscious about Garak’s silence that he struggled to maintain his own. Julian trembled.
His safe word prickled at his throat. He pushed it down. Not yet.
After a long while, the shaking stopped. Julian’s limbs went loose, limp. He let himself melt, unguarded. Resigned. He lay still, breathing steadily.
“Good,” next to his left ear. The word was barely a whisper, barely a breath, but it hit Julian like lightning. His heart raced, blood surged to his cock, and he felt tears of relief well in his eyes. But he stayed still. Waiting.
Julian was suddenly aware of the mildly acidic scent of Garak’s ajan. After such complete stillness, the aroma overwhelmed him. His tears spilled, soaking into the blindfold, and his mouth watered. He breathed.
The scent intensified, but Julian still heard nothing, felt nothing. He simply breathed, drawing the scent into him. The throb of his heartbeat in his cock was magnificent. Agonizing.
Seconds or hours later, Julian felt warmth approaching his face. He felt his heart might explode from his chest.
“You may,” Garak said softly.
Julian tilted his face slightly, and his lips made contact with fine microscaling, wet and slick. Gooseflesh spread over Julian as sensation radiated out from his lips. He reached with his tongue, and the sweet-acid taste of Garak flooded his mouth. More tears flowed as he began to lick. The scent and taste were overwhelming. He wanted more.
Julian reached up, hesitated -- when Garak didn’t stop him, he grasped the finely scaled flesh of Garak’s inner thighs, spreading him. He pressed his face against hot, slippery flesh, reaching his hands around Garak’s thighs to pull him closer.
Julian’s cock throbbed as he buried his face between the Cardassian’s legs, licking and sucking and nuzzling voraciously. He always loved going down on Garak, but he felt drunk with a new, burning need. He moaned as he licked, chasing the taste on his tongue. He whimpered, gently sucking the lips of Garak’s ajan, the delicate texture of the flesh perhaps the most erotic sensation he’d ever experienced.
When Garak everted, his heavy prUt slid across Julian’s face. The human rubbed his face against it, then wrapped his lips around it eagerly. He began to tremble uncontrollably, whimpering around the thick phallus.
He was still surprised when he felt his own semen splatter across his hips and belly.
Garak stilled for a moment, then stood. Julian felt very exposed, his face smeared with Garak’s fluids, cum cooling on his abdomen.
Garak scooped him up. “On or off?” he whispered next to Julian’s ear, carrying him to the bedroom.
“On,” Julian responded, voice hoarse.
Garak placed him on the bed, grabbing his ankles. Julian felt boneless. Garak dragged him to the edge of the bed and splayed his legs open. Garak’s prUt rubbed against his entrance, slicking it. Julian moaned softly, then squealed when two fingers pushed inside him, fucking him roughly. He felt grateful; in his hyper sensitized state, every sensation was new.
Garak rested his prUt against Julian’s asshole and pressed, a slow steady glide. Julian prostate sparked at the first touch, sensitive from his recent touchless orgasm. Garak paused.
“What’s your safeword?”
When Garak began to move, Julian barely heard his own wails over the rush of blood in his ears. Garak catalyzed a supernova inside of him; Julian struggled to understand whether he was exploding, collapsing, or simply disintegrating. His nerves were foreign to him, even as he grew certain he existed only within them.
He didn’t remember his second orgasm. He remembered cool arms and legs twining with his, refreshing against his overheated skin. He remembered Garak removing his blindfold, and he remembered luminous blue eyes insisting he drink a glass of water. He remembered kissing Garak, urgent and needy, when he wrapped himself around the Cardassian. He remembered immersing himself in his lover’s touch. He remembered Garak thanking him, and little more.
Chapter 9: Sthenolagnia
Sthenolagnia is arousal related to showy muscles or extreme displays of strength. Uff. Bonus extremely rough sex (that everyone is extremely on board with), bonus verbal humiliation/dirty talk.
“Upset?” Elim Garak scoffed. A sly grin stole across his face. “Impressed, perhaps. I never imagined you could keep a secret this long.”
Julian Bashir, who had just delivered an anguished confession and a heartfelt apology, was still flushed when his forehead furrowed in confusion.
They were seated on Julian’s small sofa, facing one another.
“So, you’re not concerned that I’ve been lying to you for four years,” Bashir said slowly, voice skeptical.
Garak grinned. “Not at all. Don’t you understand what a delightful revelation this is?” Julian’s forehead creased even more deeply, and Garak waggled his brow ridges. “Besides, a secret is hardly a lie.”
Julian’s serious look finally broke, and he rolled his eyes. “I suppose I should remember who I’m talking to.”
Garak chuckled. “So, my dear augmented doctor, can I expect any changes in your conduct now that you’re no longer hiding your status?”
Julian frowned again, looking down and away. “I’m to keep a low official profile. I can’t believe I was allowed to remain in Starfleet at all.” He looked at Garak, then grinned impishly, shrugging. “But, to answer your question, I suppose I don’t have to let you win at chess anymore. Or Kotra. Or Kal-Toh.”
Garak belly-laughed, and Bashir looked baffled. “I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be the vapid, pretty one in a relationship,” Garak quipped, posing coquettishly.
Julian chuckled. “Hardly. They didn’t enhance my deviousness or taste for needless obfuscation, so I’ll never outperform you in some regards.” He paused, and his eyes widened, incredulous. “Garak! Are you saying I was the vapid, pretty one before?”
Garak laughed again. He was formulating a comeback when Julian grasped him by his jaw ridges and kissed him. Garak purred, running a hand up Julian’s arm to his shoulder.
Bashir drew back, looking at Garak gratefully. “Thank you. I’ve been feeling terrible about all of this.”
Garak raised a brow ridge and cupped Julian’s cheek with his free hand. “Don’t. You’re exceptional. Just be exceptional.”
Julian flushed again, this time from pleasure. He kissed Garak, smiling slyly when he drew away. “I also don’t have to hide how strong I am anymore.” He straddled Garak, pinning his arms.
The Cardassian struggled gamely, and his heart beat faster when he realized even his own formidable strength couldn’t budge the human holding him down. It was incredibly erotic. Garak was wet instantly.
“Mm,” he murmured. “Well, my dear, I think that’s going to work for me quite well. Perhaps another demonstration?”
Julian grinned. He stood, then picked Garak up beneath his shoulders and knees as if he weighed no more than an infant. Garak’s prUt began to stir within him.
“Julian,” he said, breathing hard, their eyes locked. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone to fuck me as desperately I want you to fuck me right now.”
Bashir’s eyes blazed. He walked into his bedroom, tossed Garak on the bed, and ripped his clothes open. Garak everted, too deliriously aroused to even comment on his destroyed clothing. He lay on the bed, panting, while Julian removed his own clothes.
Julian crawled on top of him, and Garak moaned with unbridled desire as Julian loomed over him. The human pinned Garak’s arms, then bit into a shoulder ridge. The Cardassian gasped with pleasure. The second bite was much, much harder. Garak howled, then groaned ecstatically when he felt blood drip down his shoulder. Julian bit him again and again, drawing blood in four more places. Slowly, Garak recognized his own voice crying out, begging to be fucked.
“Please, Julian, fuck me! Hold me down, make me yours, please pleasefuckmejulianfuckme please, Ju-“
Bashir cut Garak off by flipping him onto his stomach. He wrenched Garak’s legs apart and plunged into him. Garak wailed as his ajan stretched around the sudden intrusion. His prUt was beneath his body, and he tried to roll his hips to rub it against the bed, but Julian held him still with an iron grip. It drove him wild.
Julian began to thrust harder, hips snapping with more force than Garak had ever experienced from Julian. “More,” he gasped, and Bashir complied, pummeling Garak’s ajan more brutally than he’d believed possible. He felt tears spring to his eyes. “Fuckmejulianyesohyes,” he hissed, almost incoherent with pleasure.
Julian pulled out suddenly, rolling Garak over and spreading his legs. Garak felt a stinging slap to his ajan, and he squealed.
“Yes,” he gasped, and three more blows landed in quick succession before Julian pushed his hard cock deep into Garak’s resensitized ajan, pulsing with heat.
Bashir leaned forward, slipping one hand beneath Garak’s hips and one under his back. When he stood, Garak wrapped his legs around Julian’s hips. He sank further onto Julian’s cock as the slim human held him effortlessly.
Face to face, Garak gazed worshipfully at Julian as the human fucked into him, Garak’s slick prUt gliding between them.
“You like that I’m so much stronger than you, don’t you?” Julian asked, sneering as he stared Garak down.
Garak nodded, enthralled by the man’s icy tone. “Yes, Julian.”
“You like that I can throw you around.”
“You like that I can take away your control.”
Garak moaned. “Yes, Julian,” he whispered.
“Take it away and watch you scream while I bounce you on my big, hard cock.”
“Yes, Julian,” Garak whispered again, tears pricking his eyes.
“Good,” Julian murmured. “Because I fucking own you now.” Garak nodded, tears spilling over. “You’re mine.”
“Yes, Julian,” Garak gasped, writhing on Julian’s cock.
“Tell me,” Julian growled, fucking Garak faster, harder.
“I’m yours,” Garak panted, his orgasm approaching like a tidal wave. “I’m yours, Julian.” Teeth sank into his shoulder ridge as he came. He screamed, tears flooding. “I’m yours,” he whispered. “Yours.”
Julian’s hips rolled as he emptied himself inside Garak. He lay them both down, wrapping himself around Garak. The Cardassian dissolved as Julian kissed his throat, jaw, face, brow, hair. “Mine,” Julian whispered.
Chapter 10: Ass worship
Ass worship is self-explanatory, and I'm excited about this guest appearance by the ravishing Jadzia Dax! Jadzia and Garak are my truest headcanonical brotp, and there's no way she wouldn't play with the boys from time to time. Bonus kinks: femdom, toys, multiple orgasms (is that a kink or just fun?), threesome/group sex, mirror kink.
Jadzia Dax entered her quarters, pausing to enjoy the sight before her. “My boys,” she purred.
They were both naked, kneeling a few feet inside the door, eyes respectfully averted. The Cardassian was motionless, a beautiful statue of intricate granite, but she saw a quiver of anticipation in the human’s muscles. She smiled.
On her small dining table sat a tumbler of Saurian brandy and a small plate of Betazoid confections. She stepped closer and ate one of the candies, savoring. She sipped the brandy, then stood squarely in front of them. “You may greet me.”
Julian Bashir and Elim Garak bent, kissing Jadzia’s boots. “Good evening, sir,” they said in unison.
She looked them over closely. “Elim, always so obedient.” She nudged Bashir with her boot. “You could learn a thing or two from him, Julian.”
“Yes, sir,” Julian said softly, a deep blush spreading from his face to his chest.
Jadzia walked into her bedroom, pleased at their attention to detail. Candles were burning, scenting the air with spices. Her favorite toys were near at hand. Pillows were arranged for her comfort.
“Come,” she called over her shoulder. “Elim, you may undress me now.”
The Cardassian carefully removed her boots, uniform, and underclothes, never meeting her eyes.
Jadzia lay across the bed, prone, her head nestled on a pillow that permitted her to see her mirrored headboard clearly. Her hips were lifted, resting on a larger, firm pillow that allowed her legs to spread comfortably.
“You set up the room very well, my sweet boys. Elim, you may touch me first.”
Cool hands roamed the backs of Jadzia’s thighs, spreading gooseflesh across her body. His grip was firm but reverent. He began to massage her ass. She moaned softly, then smiled when she felt lips, a tongue, teeth on the fullest part of her cheek. Garak kneaded the muscles skillfully as he licked, nipped, kissed, and sucked the flesh of Jadzia’s gorgeous, creamy ass.
She watched him in the headboard. Garak was absorbed in his work, blue eyes lidded. Jadzia’s cunt felt wet, heated by the desire she saw on Garak’s face.
“Julian, your turn.”
Garak withdrew obediently. Julian grasped Jadzia’s ass, then buried his face in it, inhaling deeply. Jadzia smiled. Julian began to massage her -- less skillfully than Garak, but perhaps more enthusiastically.
He slapped her ass, just hard enough to produce a sound.
“More,” she sighed.
Julian spanked her harder until it began to sting. He licked the red mark beneath his hand.
“Share, boys” she murmured. The next blow came from two hands, one much cooler than the other. Two tongues followed, soothing her skin.
As the spanking intensified, Jadzia grew wetter. She spread her legs farther, pleased neither man could tear his eyes away from her cunt.
“Garak, hard,” she said. Julian withdrew, and Garak began to spank her hard enough that she cried out. Her cunt blazed, and she squirmed. The Cardassian pushed the intensity, and Jadzia began to grunt under each blow. She pushed a hand under her hips, stroking her engorged clit.
Finally, ass stinging and cunt on fire, Jadzia gave the command they’d been waiting for. “Lick,” she shuddered.
Two hands caressed her ass, spreading her cheeks wide, and two tongues converged on her asshole, licking devotedly. She groaned, arching her back. After the heavy spanking, this gentle, wet, focused attention felt so good she could cry.
Julian’s tongue fluttered in her crease while Garak’s pushed against the tight ring of muscle. Jadzia whimpered happily when Garak’s tongue entered her. She watched as he thrust his tongue inside her, then withdrew to allow Julian to do the same while he nipped her ass cheek.
They began to work together, tongues swirling and sliding next to one another. They moaned softly, sharing a fleeting kiss. Jadzia was light-headed with arousal, and her cunt throbbed with need. It was time.
“Blue,” she gasped. Garak obediently retrieved Jadzia’s toy of choice that evening, a large blue Trill dildo that rocked side to side as it vibrated. She cried out with pleasure when he pushed it into her cunt. “Setting 4,” she whined, and he tapped the control.
As the toy whirred to life, colors exploded behind Jadzia’s eyes.
“And green,” she panted. “Now.”
Julian retrieved a small, oblong toy and smoothly inserted it into Jadzia’s ass. As it disappeared, it clicked on, sending pulses of pleasure through her muscles.
The tongues teased and stroked her asshole, reverent. Jadzia wailed, growled, and whimpered her way through five orgasms. Her hips twitched, thighs quaked, cunt and asshole pulsed. The sheer, agonizing pleasure threatened to tear her apart. Her ejaculate flowed in grand pulses, soaking the bed.
Finally, she pulled the blue toy out of her, tossing it to the floor. Julian dutifully grabbed the base of the green toy from her night table, deactivating it and guiding it out of her.
Jadzia lay still, panting. She opened her eyes, looking at her boys in the mirror. They waited attentively.
She rolled over. Both men were hard. Garak’s thighs were wet where his lubricant had begun to drip. Jadzia smiled. “You were both so good for me,” she cooed. “My sweet boys. You deserve a reward.” She patted the bed. “Julian, come here. Elim, fuck him. You may both cum.”
Julian’s face was flushed. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered, lying next to her.
Garak worked slicked fingers into his lover. As he pushed his prUt into the mewling human, Jadzia felt her cunt pulse. She retrieved the purple vibrator from the night table, teasing her still-engorged clit.
They watched her, eyes dark with desire. Jadzia grabbed another toy, a Bajoran opal dildo, and slid it into her wet cunt. Their moans mingled with hers as she fucked herself in time to Garak’s thrusts.
Her sixth orgasm tore a growl from her throat. Garak and Bashir collapsed, holding one another. She rolled toward them, slinging a leg over Garak.
Chapter 11: Creampie
Okay, I know I said these are non-sequential, but I decided to write an alternate ending for the last chapter because I wanted Jadzia to stick around for this prompt. Creampie, plus bonus cuckolding, praise kink, and maybe orgasm denial.
Also, I think it's virtually canon that Julian is too bratty a bottom to actually be a very good sub without a lot of very firm guidance, and even more canon that Garak has the unique self-discipline to be an ideal service top. So.
Julian Bashir had been so hard for so long that he could scarcely stand still. But he did, because he was determined to be obedient.
Jadzia Dax lay prone, spread-eagled, flushed, and panting on her bed, a widening swath of her blanket darkening as her ejaculate soaked into it. Julian trembled as he watched her, hoping desperately that Jadzia would let him come.
Elim Garak, Julian’s partner, stood motionless next to him, head tilted down slightly. Garak’s prUt was hard, but the Cardassian’s breath was even. Slow. His muscles looked relaxed beneath his scaled skin. Julian tried to take a deep breath, attempting to emulate Garak’s infuriating calm, but his throat betrayed him. A strangled whimper escaped. Julian blushed, face and neck burning.
Jadzia rolled over, propping her head on one hand. Her eyes held Julian in place, and his blush deepened, spreading to his chest. “Julian,” she said, her voice singsongy with disappointment. “So impatient.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered.
“Look at Elim. He stands there so beautifully still. He’s so quiet. So respectful.” Her voice hardened. “He doesn’t stare at me like I owe him something.”
Julian trembled, staring at the floor. “I’m very sorry, sir,” he whispered, quieter.
Jadzia snorted. “I think you’re sorry that you’re going to be punished. And just when I thought you were learning to behave yourself.” She paused to retrieve her Saurian brandy from the bedside table, sipping it. “Disappointing.” Another sip. “Elim, my darling, you’ve been very good tonight.”
Garak didn’t move when he spoke. “I live for your pleasure, sir.”
Julian wanted to scream at him. He fiercely loved this man, but Garak was the most arrogant, domineering, relentlessly demanding lover he’d ever had. Yet when they played with Jadzia, he was the perfect submissive. No ego. No desires. Just service. It was so fucking annoying.
“Don’t look so resentful, Julian,” Jadzia said, voice cruelly teasing. “You’ll figure it out someday. Elim, come here.”
Garak took a step closer to the bed.
Jadzia laughed. “Julian, look at me. I want you to watch this.” He looked up into mocking blue eyes that sparkled with laughter. Jadzia shifted her gaze to Garak. She ran a hand up his leg from knee to upper thigh. Julian shuddered, but Garak didn’t move. Jadzia laughed again, staring at Julian reproachfully. “Elim,” she said sweetly, holding Julian’s eyes as she spread her legs, “you may fuck me. I want Julian to understand the consequences of his poor behavior.”
Garak nodded deferentially. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He knelt between Jadzia’s legs on the bed. As he entered her, Julian’s hips flexed involuntarily.
Jadzia fixed her eyes on Julian over Garak’s shoulder. “Julian, if you can’t con- trol- yours- elf-,” she scolded, syllables dissolving into gasps as Garak began thrusting inside her, “I’ll- have- to- res- train- you-”
Julian balled his hands into fists, clenching his muscles in a bid to stay still.
The wet sounds of Garak’s slick, hard prUt squelching inside Jadzia’s swollen, soaked cunt cut through Julian. He felt insane with desire. He grit his teeth, biting his tongue.
Jadzia stroked Garak’s hair sweetly, whispering in his ear. “Your fat prUt feels so fucking good inside me, Elim. You serve me so well. My perfect boy.” She looked at Julian. “I want you to come inside me, Elim.”
Julian could hardly hear Garak’s whispered response. “Thank you, sir,” whispered against Jadzia’s neck.
The Cardassian thrust harder, and Jadzia began to moan and whimper, rolling her hips up to meet his. “My good boy,” she panted. “My beautiful Elim. Let go, Elim. Fill me up.”
Garak rolled them over, and Jadzia laughed joyfully as she rode the sharp upward snaps of Garak’s hips. Her laugh crescendoed into a cry of pleasure, and Julian watched her ejaculate flood out of her, flowing between Garak’s legs to soak the bed. Garak grasped her hips, holding her in place on top of his swiveling thrusts, fucking her slowly. Jadzia threw her head back, moaning.
It dawned on Julian that Garak had been coming for too long. With a shock, he realized Garak was pulsing the way he did when he played at breeding Julian. Slow, languid movements gradually filled Jadzia, who opened her eyes, meeting Julian’s gaze with a lazy, triumphant sneer that he felt in his cock.
Finally, Garak stilled, and Jadzia lifted her hips slightly, letting his prUt slide out of her. Pale blue semen dribbled out of her, dripping onto Garak. Jadzia flopped onto her back next to him. Julian watched, transfixed, as more semen leaked out of her, trailing over her thigh and into the crease of her ass. His cock twitched.
“Julian,” Jadzia singsonged. “My cunt isn’t going to clean itself up.”
Chapter 12: Aftercare
I guess I should have moved "aftercare" to the 31st, but ah well. I'm not sure it's a kink, but it's cute. This chapter is literally the first fic I've ever written that doesn't chronicle a sexual arc!! Wow. Bonus: kinda praise kink, implied super fucking heavy play (all consensual, of course).
Julian Bashir lay on cold concrete, trapped beneath the heavy body that sagged on top of his own. He could feel his tears and semen, wet and tacky under him, growing gritty as they mixed with dirt from the floor.
His shoulder burned. It had been at least 15 minutes since he’d been struck by a phaser blast, and secondary swelling was beginning to set in. His jaw ached, and he could taste blood in his mouth. The weight pressing him against the floor lifted, and his cracked ribs decompressed. Pain seared him, and he whimpered softly.
Cool hands carefully lifted Julian. He was too weak to protest against the fresh pain that erupted in his shoulder. He whimpered again when he felt a soft surface beneath him. The light changed, softened. He looked at it with one bleary eye, realizing the other was swollen almost shut. Julian felt a blanket cover him, and a hand rubbed his uninjured shoulder while another lightly touched his hair.
“Julian,” a low voice murmured. “My dear.”
Julian’s open eye swiveled, focusing on Elim Garak’s face. He looked concerned. Julian tried to figure out why, but he was too deep inside his own head. Too exhausted to think.
“You’re hearing me?” Garak asked.
“Yes,” Julian rasped, dazed. His throat was raw. He reached out, grasping Garak’s arm. “Lay down.”
Garak kissed his hair. “I will soon, my dear. I need to attend to some of your injuries right now. But I’m here. Okay?”
“All right,” Julian murmured, drifting toward sleep.
Garak kissed the fingertips of Julian’s right hand, then pressed a hypospray to Julian’s neck. He picked up a dermal regenerator and a tricorder. As the pain in his shoulder began to subside, sleep fell heavily over Julian.
When he awoke, Garak was running the regenerator over Julian’s split lip. His jaw didn’t hurt anymore, and he could see out of both eyes. He was on a bed that Garak must have programmed into their holosuite session. A lamp sat on a small table next to him, surrounded by medical tools, a few containers, small towels, and a cup.
As he began to resurface, Julian suddenly felt very exposed. He reached for Garak’s hands. “Please,” he whispered, voice still harsh.
“Soon,” Garak promised, kissing him lighty.
Julian’s heart clenched, then began racing. He keened under Garak’s kiss, desperate tears welling in his eyes. He felt vulnerable, anxious.
He watched silently as Garak moved on to his throat, then touched his ribs. Julian whined, the pain still sharp.
Garak picked up an osteogenic stimulator, guiding it steadily across Julian’s fractured ribs.
Julian began to tremble. His ribs weren’t fully mended, but he urgently needed Garak to lie down next to him. He put his hand on the Cardassian’s arm again. “Garak, please. My ribs are fine. I need you.”
Garak looked at him, concerned and surprised. He turned off the tool and set it down. He joined Julian under the blanket, wrapping arms and legs around the human.
Julian started crying in earnest, relief pouring through him as he curled closer to Garak. A hand stroked his hair, and cool lips pressed kisses along his cheekbone, jaw, neck. Garak whispered almost inaudibly in his ear. As Julian began to calm down, he realized Garak was speaking Kardasi, the words sibilant but gentle. He tried to wriggle closer to Garak, who held him tightly. Reassuringly.
“Thank you,” Julian whispered as the tears began to subside. “Thank you.”
Garak kissed his forehead, his lips, his jaw. “I’m sorry I made you wait, darling.” He kissed Julian’s brow. “I didn’t realize.” His cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Julian looked at Garak, then grasped his face, pulling him into a deep kiss. Julian sank desperately into the kiss. Warmth spread through him as Garak reciprocated, kissing him eagerly, lovingly, tenderly, reverently. Julian’s sense of isolation began to lift.
When he finally drew back, he looked at Garak closely. Vivid blue eyes looked back attentively. Worshipfully.
“Tell me what you need, my dear,” Garak whispered, kissing Julian’s fingers. “My beautiful, delicious, irresistible, wonderful, flawless Julian.”
Julian felt himself flush under the praise. “Just you,” he whispered, then smiled. “And maybe some tea.”
Garak kissed his hair, then reached for a thermos and a mug sitting on the same as the medical tools. He poured half a cup of tea and handed it to Julian. The human smiled, sipping gratefully, while Garak idly ran fingers through Julian’s hair.
Garak’s eyes were soft, apologetic. “I’m sorry, love. We’ll plan better next time.”
Julian set the empty cup aside and kissed Garak’s throat before curling his head under the Cardassian’s chin. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t ignore a phaser wound or broken bones.” He huffed a laugh. “And I insisted on those.”
Garak chuckled in his throat. “You were magnificent, Julian,” he said, voice awed. “Breathtaking.”
Julian flushed with pleasure at the words. “Thank you.” He dozed for a few minutes, warm and safe. Loved.
When he awoke, he mulled over the evening’s events. “Even though I got a little panicky afterward, tonight was amazing. So, thank you, Garak. I don’t think I’ve ever let myself let go that much.”
Garak caressed his shoulder affectionately. “It felt different.” He paused. “I’m honored by your trust in me.”
Julian drew back enough to see Garak’s eyes. He smiled into them, feeling suffused with warmth. Tears filled his eyes again, and grinned at himself. “I love you so fucking much."
Garak kissed his forehead again. “I love you, too, Julian.”
Julian drifted, weightless.
Chapter 13: Salirophilia
Salirophilia is arousal related to seeing a lover dirty, messy, or disheveled. Bonus outdoor sex (kind of), bonus Julian turning Cardassian argue-flirting around on Garak.
I feel like maybe I scared everyone off with the DD/lb and pee chapters, but I hope y'all are still reading :) The entire challenge has been fun so far, but I think this chapter in particular might be a rough draft for a scene in a future Subtext series work.
“Stop. Are you really mad?” Julian Bashir asked, bewildered.
Elim Garak fixed him with an icy look. “I’m very frustrated, andI don’t want to be here.”
Bashir’s jaw dropped open. “I don’t- I mean, I chose this one-“
“-without considering any of the parameters I specified,” Garak snapped, cutting him off. “ Again ,” he added emphatically.
“I changed the distance per day! I eliminated hills over 35 degrees! I added berries!” Julian retorted. “What else do you want?”
“Not to go on these ridiculous, tedious backpacking trips with you anymore,” Garak shot back.
Julian laughed incredulously. “Ridiculous? Tedious? Weren’t you a goddamn spy? Did you never work outdoors? Never encounter insects? Mud? Inconvenience?”
Garak’s blue eyes flashed. “It’s not even comparable. Tell me how these pointless exercises serve any purpose whatsoever!”
The jab let the air out of him. Julian blinked, hurt. His voice was small when he spoke. “We’re spending time together. I- thought you wanted to, too.”
Garak froze, and Julian felt eyes study him. Finally, the Cardassian sighed, jaw still set. “I do, Julian. But I hate this.”
Julian’s brow furrowed. “I thought you had fun last time. I know you requested changes, but I thought- I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t understand.”
Garak’s face softened, finally. “I’m sorry, too. I could have been more forthcoming.”
Julian’s lips quirked into a wry smile. “Well, let’s not get carried away.”
Garak smirked, then looked at Julian closely. “So, emergency medical override is the only way to end the program early?”
Julian nodded. “Or a serious station emergency. It’s how all the multi-day vacation programs work. They don’t want officers taking R&R a few hours at a time.”
Garak sighed, resigned. “I really do hate this.”
Julian tried to look conciliatory. “Next time we’ll choose together.” He tentatively took Garak’s hand. “I love that you’re willing to try things with me.”
Garak sighed again. After a long moment, he squeezed Julian’s hand. “I appreciate that you include me. You could just leave the station.”
“But not with you,” Julian said, kissing Garak’s hand.
The Cardassian nodded, then sighed. “Okay, we have approximately 3km left today, right? Let’s go.”
Julian smiled apologetically. “It’s rough terrain. But the campsite is really beautiful!”
Garak sighed yet again and began walking.
When they arrived at the campsite an hour later, Garak tossed his pack on the ground in irritation, then walked away to consider the view. Julian had chosen carefully. They were camping on the eastern rim of a valley in ancient North Carolina. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky above the valley in vivid colors while it bathed their campsite in golden light.
Julian let the older man stew for a few minutes while he built a fire and laid out their sleeping gear.
Finally, Julian joined Garak, lightly touching his lower back as he stood next to him.
“It’s a pleasant view,” Garak conceded, finally speaking. He turned to Julian, eyes frustrated again. “But I’m cold, I’m filthy, and those damn briars ripped my trousers.” He walked to the fire.
Julian sighed, following him. “You’ll be warm soon,” Julian promised. He touched Garak’s hair, messier than he’d ever seen it. “You look sexy when you’re all dirty like this.”
Garak glared at him, not even bothering to answer.
“I’m serious,” Julian said, placing a hand on Garak’s shirt, which was stained with dust and a smear of blood from a briar that had snagged Garak’s hand. “I know you hate this, but you look like a character from some erotic survival novel.”
Garak looked at him in astonishment. “Those don’t exist.”
Julian grinned. “Of course they do. Humans sexualize everything. I bet there’s an erotic version of The Neverending Sacrifice by now.”
Garak’s eyes widened. “A disgusting species.”
Julian laughed, stepping in front of Garak and putting his other hand on his hip. “Sure. As if you don’t love a good defilement.” He could see Garak being swayed by his tone. “How many times have you wrecked me just to see it? How many times have you fucked me crying, filthy, disgusting?”
Garak looked intrigued, but didn’t answer.
Julian grinned. “As if you don’t understand why seeing you dirty and bloody and messy like this makes me want to fuck your throat and cum all over you.”
Garak’s pupils dilated, but his face was impassive when he scoffed, “You’re vile, Julian.”
“I am,” the human nodded. He looked at Garak expectantly. “So?”
Garak knelt in the dirt. He looked beautiful in the warm light of the setting sun. Julian’s erection ached as he pushed his pants down to mid-thigh.
Garak reached for Julian’s cock, swallowing it eagerly. Julian sighed with pleasure, letting Garak’s mouth work. Finally, the urge overwhelmed him, and he grabbed handfuls of messy hair. Garak moaned as Julian held his head, thrusting deeper into his throat.
“Touch yourself,” Julian instructed, panting. As he fucked Garak’s face, he could hear Garak gagging, feel him drooling. He looked down. Garak’s hand moved inside his unbuttoned pants.
Garak looked up at him, and Julian saw tear tracks in the dust on his face. It was beautiful, so arousing he almost came right then. He thrust hard into Garak’s throat, pushing more tears from the corners of the blue eyes that stared up at him. Garak moaned, hand moving faster between his legs. Julian spit on Garak’s face, and he felt a throaty whimper around his cock.
Julian pulled out of Garak’s mouth, jerking his cock hard. Semen splattered across Garak’s hair, face, shirt. The Cardassian grunted, tensing. He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking his own blue semen.
Julian sank to his knees, kissing Garak. “My god, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
Garak kissed him back for a moment, then pulled away, the look of consternation returning. “But now I’m even filthier than earlier,” he complained.
Julian smiled broadly. “Oh! Did I not mention the hot springs behind that stand of trees?”
Chapter 14: Dom/sub
Lol, "Dom/sub." I don't think I've ever written anything that wasn't? But I left it on the list to push myself to write something fucking weird, and here we are. If you read the ass worship and creampie chapters, fast-forward about a year.
Bonus kinks: grooming/personal care (mostly), plus voyeurism, exhibitionism, alien junk, double penetration, female ejaculation, extremely rough sex, cum eating. I'm sure I'm missing a few.
“You may greet me,” Jadzia Dax said, standing over the naked men kneeling in her quarters.
Julian Bashir’s eyes were wide and adoring. “I’m honored to be in your presence, sir.”
Elim Garak raised his eyes to her knees. “Thank you for allowing us to serve you, sir.” His voice was soft, grateful.
Jadzia smiled. She sipped the Saurian brandy waiting for her on the end table. She glanced over her shoulder. “Come.”
She was gratified to find the bath laid out correctly.
“Julian, you may undress me,” Jadzia said. Julian kept his eyes lowered while he helped her disrobe. She sank into the tub, sighing as the hot, oiled water warmed her.
She looked at her boys, kneeling patiently on their mat. Well, somewhat patiently. Julian was hard, and Garak’s ajan was swollen.
She chuckled. “My poor Julian, always so excited,” she teased. The human trembled, blushing. “Elim is excited, too. He just ignores it. Wouldn’t it be fun if he couldn’t ignore it?”
“Well then, Julian, don’t let him. Elim, stand.” The Cardassian obeyed wordlessly. “Julian, finger him until he everts. Use your mouth, too, if you like.”
“Thank you, sir,” Julian whispered. He turned, stroking Garak’s ajan a few times before slipping fingers inside. Jadzia sipped her drink. Julian’s fingers moved faster, squelching audibly. Julian leaned forward, pressing his mouth against Garak’s ajan.
With a gasp, Garak everted. Julian looked longingly at his prUt before kneeling again. Garak steadied his breathing and knelt. His prUt shone softly in the candlelight.
“Thank you, sir,” Garak breathed.
“My good boys. So excited to serve me,” she cooed. “Elim, you may wash my hair.”
Garak stood, retrieving items from the shelf. He knelt behind her. She sat up to allow him access to the back of her head. Garak dipped the pitcher into the water, then tilted Jadzia’s chin, pouring a soothing stream over her hair. She sighed, reveling
Garak rinsed her hair thoroughly, then massaged her scalp with a rich, floral shampoo. She moaned, blissful under his touch.
Garak rinsed the shampoo from Jadzia’s hair, then gently squeezed the water from it. He smoothed a silky conditioning agent through the strands. When he was finished, he wrapped her hair in a towel and clipped it in place.
“Thank you, Elim.” She rewarded him with a smile. “I’m in a hurry tonight,” Jadzia declared, “so you both get to wash me. Julian, left. Garak, right.”
They stood, retrieving soft mitts of thick fabric from the shelf. Garak poured a small circle of a luscious, spicy soap into the palm of his mitt. Bashir did the same.
Kneeling on either side of the tub, they awaited Jadzia’s nod. She leaned back, eyes closed. “Begin.”
Two hands dipped into the water, then moved in circles on Jadzia’s shoulders and neck. She purred contentedly. They washed her arms, her hands. Garak’s free hand held her brandy. He offered it back, but she waved it away.
She was proud of Julian’s self control when they washed her chest and breasts. He didn’t linger unnecessarily, and the tremble in his fingers was almost unnoticeable. He’d improved so much.
Mitted hands rubbed her ribs, belly, and back soothingly. When they reached her hips, she parted her thighs. Garak deftly manipulated her folds, but Julian’s touch stumbled.
“Julian,” she said sternly. “You’re serving me, not yourself.” She turned to Garak. “Elim, wash the other side of my cunt, as well as my asshole. Julian’s not ready tonight.”
“Thank you, sir,” Garak said, doing as she asked. Julian’s face burned with shame until he was allowed to resume washing Jadzia’s left leg. They finished at her feet, massaging them while she hummed with pleasure.
Clean and relaxed, Jadzia stood. Julian drained the soapy water while Garak used the pitcher to pour fresh water over Jadzia. Julian patted her dry.
She walked into her bedroom and smiled. Worf lay across their bed, naked.
“Ready him,” she called over her shoulder.
Garak and Julian crawled onto the bed, avoiding Worf’s eyes. She watched them strain their jaws, each sucking one of his massive cocks. Her husband grew hard in her playmates’ mouths, stretching their lips obscenely. She smiled, then lay next to Worf, fondling herself.
When Worf was erect, he pushed them away. “Ready her.”
Garak licked her asshole while Julian licked her cunt. Jadzia sighed, enjoying this last moment of gentle pleasure. She turned to Worf, who kissed her, bruising her lips. She tasted blood, and he twisted her nipple until she screamed. Arousal shot through her.
“Off,” she commanded, and Julian and Garak retreated. Jadzia erupted with laughter as Worf pinned her, biting her throat. She screamed ecstatically as he speared her on both cocks.
Julian sat next to Garak on the small bench designated for them. Garak’s hand stroked Julian’s cock, and Julian’s hand twisted around the sensitive ridge at the base of Garak’s prUt. Both stared, pupils blown, at the spectacle before them.
Worf and Jadzia were both bleeding -- Worf from two bite wounds on his chest, and Jadzia from her lips, breasts, and thighs. Jadzia had mounted her husband again and was riding him hard, screaming with what sounded a lot like rage to Julian. Her cunt and asshole stretched and dragged on Worf’s twin cocks. It was mesmerizing.
Worf grabbed at Jadzia, trying to roll her over, but the Trill punched him squarely in the face. Worf went down, lip split, and Jadzia rolled her hips wildly.
Julian could see the tension mounting. Garak must have noticed, too, because his hand matched Julian’s increased speed.
Suddenly Jadzia exploded, a wordless roar echoing in the small room. Her ejaculate spilled out, soaking Worf. She writhed on top of him, bloody, sweating, chasing her pleasure with a fury.
Julian whimpered, coming in Garak’s hand. The Cardassian groaned. Julian felt wet heat on his own fingers. They slumped together, panting. They fed each other their cum, watching as Jadzia gained her second wind.
Klingons have two dicks!! Sorry!! It's canon!!
Chapter 15: Spit-roasting
Okay, this is Jadzia's final appearance (at least for a while). Spit-roasting demanded a third player, and she's too perfect for it.
Also: The Kzinti are the cat-like aliens from TOS, TAS, and I wanna say some of the movies?
So, spit-roasting. Pretty tame but real fun. Bonus kinks: alien junk, strap-on sex (is that a kink??), rough sex, praise kink (inasmuch as Julian is being rewarded for his good behavior -- finally).
“Julian,” Jadzia Dax purred. “You’ve improved so much lately.” She stroked his hair. “I’ve decided to reward your good behavior.”
Julian Bashir stared up at her, surprised. His heart began beating so rapidly he wondered if she could see his pulse beneath his naked flesh. “Thank you, sir.”
“I assume you’ve prepared yourself?”
Julian nodded. “Always, sir,” he replied. He flexed around the plug inside him, trying to steady the excitement that flooded him. He breathed deeply, trying not to get his hopes up at her promising words.
“Good,” she said, voice clipped. “Elim, get my strap.”
Elim Garak, who had been kneeling next to Julian, stood. He disappeared into Jadzia’s closet for a moment. When he emerged, he was carrying a pelvic harness made of Andorian leather. Julian shivered with excitement.
Garak helped Jadzia into the harness and buckled it firmly into place.
Jadzia rolled her hips, and Julian narrowly suppressed a moan. “Now, which phallus should I use,” she mused aloud. “Elim, what do you think?”
Julian watched a smirk flicker across Garak’s lips. Nerves tightened his stomach, waiting for his partner’s response.
“I think Julian might enjoy your new Kzinti dildo,” Garak said blithely, and Jadzia cackled with delight. Julian’s heart sank.
Jadzia had told them all about the Kzinti dildo when she’d first ordered it weeks ago. Like their feline ancestors, Kzinti penises featured small keratinous spikes all over the head that emerged during sex to grip the inside of their mates. Her toy mimicked the small spikes, she’d been very eager to inform them.
“An excellent idea, Elim,” Jadzia cooed. “Be a dear and get it for me.”
Garak retrieved the new toy and helped Jadzia attach it to her harness. Julian noticed the base of the toy appeared to be a vibrator.
Jadzia patted the bed. “Come,” she said to Julian. “Kneel.”
Shaking with trepidation but afraid Jadzia would change her mind if he hesitated, Julian stood, then knelt on the bed. Jadzia guided him until his hips were near her.
“Elim, get on the bed in front of him. He’ll need to make you evert before we get started.”
Garak knelt in front of Julian, edging forward his swollen ajan met Julian’s mouth.
“Go ahead, Julian,” Jadzia instructed.
Julian nuzzled his face against Garak’s ajan, smearing himself in the fluids. He sucked the microscaled lips, pulling lightly. Garak pressed himself against Julian’s mouth, and the human moaned, rubbing his face and lips between Garak’s legs.
“You may,” Julian heard Jadzia say, but he hadn’t heard the question. Garak grasped his head, pulling him into even more contact with Garak’s ajan. Julian could feel the man’s prUt beginning to emerge, hard through the delicate flesh still covering it. He pushed his tongue deep into Garak’s ajan, stroking his prUt with the tip. Garak rolled his hips, seeking stimulation.
Finally, Garak everted. He held Julian’s hair, holding him away from his prUt. Julian tried not to push against his grip, still afraid Jadzia might change her mind.
He felt a warm hand on his hip, and he moaned quietly. Jadzia extracted the plug from him slowly, the glass pulling deliciously at his insides. The tip of her Kzinti toy rested against his asshole. Garak placed his prUt against Julian’s lips. They paused.
That moment of inaction seemed to go on forever. Julian trembled, needy.
Jadzia entered him first. Julian was surprised by the smooth, slick feeling of the toy. It hardly stretched him more than the plug, and it massaged him in a way that he loved immediately. His mouth was open, gasping, when Garak held his chin and slipped his prUt between Julian’s lips.
The sensation of being filled -- dominated -- by both Jadzia and Garak was intoxicating. Gooseflesh spread over Julian, and his cock ached. He whimpered, gasping around Garak’s prUt as they picked up speed. Jadzia held his hips firmly, fingernails digging into his flesh, as she began to fuck him in hard, fluid thrusts. Garak’s hands were in his hair, holding his face still as he thrust his prUt deep into Julian’s throat.
If there was a heaven for reformed brats, this had to be it. Julian let himself melt into the sensations, blissful.
He became aware of a new tension inside him. Jadzia’s Kzinti dildo seemed to have swelled. Rather than adjusting and loosening around it, he felt increasingly tight. Julian willed himself to relax, enjoying the stretch.
When the spikes began to emerge, he knew he needed a new approach. Jadzia’s thrusts had less range as the spikes on the head of her toy began to grip Julian from the inside. His groans became squeals.
It hurt so much more than he expected. His eyes watered, spilled over. He considered using his safe gesture, but every time he began to lift his hand, he stopped.
Ten more seconds, he thought. Then I can ask them to stop.
About a minute later, he still hadn’t. Suddenly, though, he didn’t want to. The pain had turned into something different. Something that made him feel like his entire pelvis might explode with pleasure.
Jadzia fucked him hard, pounding him against Garak with heavy thrusts that knocked the Cardassian’s thick prUt against the back of Julian’s throat. The human gagged, whimpered, choked, moaned. His cock leaked, ignored, dripping on the bedcovers.
Garak grunted with each thrust, and Julian knew he was close. He sucked hard, and Garak slapped him. Julian yelped. Garak fucked his throat viciously, making Julian’s eyes water.
“Go ahead, Elim,” Jadzia said. Garak’s cum sprayed the back of Julian’s throat. Julian swallowed eagerly. He wanted to drown himself in it.
He felt Jadzia’s hips jerk erratically then, a strangled cry signaling her orgasm. She withdrew slowly, every spike dragging deliciously inside Julian one last time.
“Go ahead, Julian.”
Three strokes brought him to climax, spilling hot over his hands. Julian collapsed, boneless and exhausted and sore in ways he’d masturbate about the next morning.
“Good boy,” Jadzia purred.
Chapter 16: Striptease
This isn't striptease so much as stripped-tease. But it's fun!
Also, depending on how you read their relationship, I guess this could be dubcon, but in writing this chapter I was imagining them deep into a relationship where either of them could just tell the other to stop without it being ~an issue~ so. Yeah. Less explicit consent than my usual schtick but it's there.
“I think it’ll look perfect after you make the alterations,” Julian Bashir said happily, examining his reflection.
“Excellent. It can be ready tomorrow.” Elim Garak made some notes on a PADD, then set it aside. “Next is the tricky part — getting everything off you without disturbing the pins. Andorian silk is so easily torn.”
Julian paused, biting his lip. “I’m afraid I’m going to ruin something. Can you help?”
Garak chuckled. “I have a great deal of confidence in many of your abilities, but you’re a menace to fine fabrics. I wouldn’t let you remove this without assistance.” Julian scowled, and Garak laughed. “You said as much yourself, my dear.”
Julian made a face, then stood sheepishly with his arms raised slightly. “Okay but help me.”
Bashir was clad in a Terran-inspired three-piece suit, Terran necktie, and overcoat, all of Garak’s own design. Julian hasn’t told him what he needed the outfit for, but it had been an interesting challenge.
Garak smirked. “Hold still unless I move you.”
Julian nodded, looking simultaneously helpless and defiant.
Garak grasped the Inkarian wool overcoat and slipped it off Julian’s shoulders, then hung it carefully.
“You look much less formidable without the coat,” he observed, circling him.
Julian made another face.
“Is this the portion of the fitting where you simply pout silently?” Garak asked lightly.
Julian rolled his eyes. Garak turned him toward the mirror. “You actually look rather delicate,” he purred, lips close to Julian’s ear.
Julian struggled to hold still, glaring at him in the mirror. Garak smiled impishly over the human’s shoulder.
“Arms slightly behind you,” he instructed. Julian obeyed, and Garak eased the jacket off and hung it.
Garak smoothed his hands down Julian’s sides. “Very delicate.”
Julian flushed. “Garak, this isn’t fair.”
Garak grinned. “I don’t suppose it is.” He caressed Julian’s hips, earning a gasp.
Garak stood in front of Julian and slowly unbuttoned the waistcoat. Julian was trying and failing to control his breathing. Garak leaned closer, until Julian’s hair brushed his temple ridge.
“Garaaak,” Julian whined.
The last button unfastened, Garak stepped back. His hands glided over Julian’s chest and under the vest, removing it.
He hung the waistcoat. When he turned around, Julian was glowering at him in the mirror. “What’s the matter?”
Julian bit his lip, almost grinning. “I’m going to get you back for this, you know.”
“Perhaps,” Garak agreed amiably. He ran his fingers over Julian’s chest and ribs, avoiding the many small pins in the folded fabric at the seams. Julian shivered. Watching the human’s face in the mirror, Garak let his hands wander over slim hips, a firm ass.
Julian closed his eyes. “Please get this off me so I can fucking touch you.”
Garak kissed Julian’s neck. Bashir whimpered, and his eyes flew open. Garak looked pointedly at Julian’s trousers. The young man closed his eyes again, blushing. His erection was clearly visible beneath the fine fabric.
Garak circled Julian again, standing in front of him. He unclipped the necktie, fondling the satin. Gingerly, Garak untied it, letting his fingers brush Julian’s neck, earlobe, throat. Bashir looked at him pleadingly. Finally, Garak removed the tie.
Garak stood still for a long moment, tracing each button on Julian’s shirt. Hazel eyes watched him. Slowly, holding Julian’s gaze, Garak unfastened each button. When the shirt hung open, Garak stepped back.
“Garak! What are you doing? Take this off,” Julian demanded, eyes flashing.
“Not yet.” Garak’s hands brushed the hook and eye fasteners at the closure of Julian’s trousers. He heard a growl from the young man’s throat, his own smile turning wolfish. With deliberate movements, Garak opened fasteners. Julian was breathing hard, staring at him with need. As Garak carefully eased the pinned pants off Julian’s hips, he knelt.
“Lift,” he said, touching Julian’s left shin and removing one pant leg. “Again,” Garak said, touching Julian’s right calf. When the trousers were off, Garak folded them, setting them aside.
Grasping Julian’s legs, Garak pressed his face to Julian’s underwear. Bashir grunted, stopping himself from stressing the delicate fabric of the shirt he still wore.
“What are you doing?” he asked weakly.
“What I want,” Garak pulled Julian’s underwear down, freeing his cock. Garak closed his lips around it, and Bashir groaned.
“Fuck you, Garak, this isn’t goddamn fair,” he gasped, little resolve behind his words. “You fucking asshole.”
Garak hummed around Julian’s cock. A strangled cry answered. Garak sucked hungrily, pulling Julian deep into his throat, enjoying the heavy breathing that filled his ears.
“Please,” Julian begged, trembling with the effort of remaining motionless. “Please.”
Garak grinned up at him, meeting Julian’s eyes. Holding pleading eyes, Garak gagged himself on Julian’s cock, earning another helpless groan.
Garak released Julian’s cock, leaving it throbbing, and stood. He placed his hands under the Andorian silk shirt, feeling Julian’s heated body. He tweaked sensitive nipples. Julian hissed.
“As much fun as this is, I can’t have you sweating all over it before it’s even finished,” Garak conceded. He eased the shirt off and turned to hang it.
As his hands left the fabric, Julian grabbed him roughly. Bashir pulled Garak’s own trousers down, shoved him against the wall, and pushed his cock into Garak’s dripping wet ajan. Garak gasped, pleasure shooting through his body after being aroused for so long. Julian pounded into him, forcing him to evert. Garak keened.
Julian’s hands unfastened the top of Garak’s shirt, pulling it open to expose his shoulder ridges. Teeth sank into Garak’s shoulder as Julian grunted harder, louder as he fucked Garak harder, faster. It was brutal, angry, perfect. Garak came with a cry. Julian shuddered inside him, teeth breaking the skin.
Julian pulled out, and Garak felt cum drip down his leg, runny with his own fluids. The human turned him around, slapped him, and then pulled him in for a deep kiss.
“You cunt,” Julian hissed. “Fucking asshole.”
“I love you too, dear,” Garak smiled, wrapping his arms around Julian’s neck.
Chapter 17: Pet play
Pet play is an owner/pet take on Dom/sub play. (To be clear, it has nothing to do with bestiality, so clutch your pearls elsewhere.)
I really love pet play and am a little grossed out by pet play. This chapter probably reflects that, since one of the boys is 600% into it and the other is just being a good sport. Bonus: mild praise kink.
Elim Garak entered Julian Bashir’s quarters, surprised to see the lights were off.
“Lights.” He looked around. “Julian?”
Silence. He walked to the bedroom to retrieve his slippers.
Julian was stretched across the bed, asleep, clad only in a leather collar and fluffy tail. A hint of a smile crossed Garak’s lips. Putting on his slippers, he folded his arms.
“Julian!” he scolded loudly. The human awoke, stretching and looking at him with sleepy eyes. “Off!”
Julian’s eyes widened guiltily, and he scrambled off the bed. He sat on his knees, face averted.
“I’ll have to start keeping the bedroom closed,” Garak sighed. “Every time I turn my back you try to get away with something.”
Garak sat on the edge of the bed. “Come,” he commanded. Julian crawled forward, still avoiding eye contact.
“Maybe I’m expecting you to learn too quickly,” Garak said, more to himself than to Julian. “You’re my first puppy.” He stroked his pet’s head, and Julian closed his eyes happily. Garak smiled fondly, ruffling Julian’s hair with both hands. “My dumb little baby puppy,” he cooed, kissing the top of his head.
Garak stood, returning to the living-dining room. He replicated his dinner and sat at the small dining table, picking up a PADD. Opening a file of Klingon poetry, Garak settled in to read while he ate his curry.
A few minutes later, he saw Julian was next to him, watching with interest.
“No,” he said firmly, pointing to a large pillow in the corner. “Go to your bed.”
Julian took a few crawling steps toward it, then looked back at Garak, hazel eyes lively.
Garak pointed again. “Go to your bed.”
“Go.” He pointed until Julian was seated on the pillow, sullen but obedient. “Good,” he praised, then returned to his meal.
When Garak finished his dinner, he put his dishes in the reclamation unit. Julian crowded his feet, looking up eagerly. Garak sighed.
“My impatient baby monster,” he said, exasperated but affectionate. Julian’s eyes sparkled.
Garak ordered another serving of curry, this one in a ceramic dog bowl. Julian shook with excitement. Garak walked to the small silicone mat next to Julian’s bed, puppy at his heels.
“Wait,” Garak said, holding up one hand. Julian froze. “Wait,” Garak repeated. Julian watched him. Garak set down the dish, hand still raised. Julian’s eyes were trained on his face. “Okay!” Garak said, stepping back. The puppy rushed the bowl, eating with his customary enthusiasm.
Garak ordered a kanar, grabbed the PADD, and settled on the couch to read, legs stretched out.
After a few minutes, the clinking of tag on food bowl subsided, and Garak felt pressure on his shin. He looked up to see Julian’s chin resting on his leg, hazel eyes pleading.
“How can such a precious angel be such a ghastly mess?” Garak murmured. He nudged Julian back, sighing. He set down his PADD and retrieved a damp cloth from the lavatory.
“Come,” Garak said, and Julian eagerly crawled to him. Garak held his puppy lightly by the jaw, wiping his curry-smeared face clean. “There we go.” Tossing the cloth in the reclamation unit, Garak returned to the sofa.
Two pages later, he felt eyes boring into him. Julian was in his bed in the corner, body tense. Garak chuckled.
“You demand attention even when you’re trying to be good,” he said. His puppy wiggled. Garak sat up. “But I suppose I’ve been gone all day. Come here.”
Julian bounded across the room, sitting pressed against Garak’s legs. His head rolled back, looking at Garak adoringly. Despite himself, Garak grinned. He scrunched Julian’s hair in his fingers, kissing his dumb puppy forehead.
Garak retrieved the brush from the coffee table. Julian wiggled with excitement. Garak brushed his hair, long strokes that made Julian’s eyes droop.
When Julian was calm, Garak invited him onto the couch. “Up.”
Julian obeyed joyfully.
“Lie down. Good. Roll over.”
Julian rolled onto his back, lying across Garak’s lap. Garak lifted Julian’s arms over his head, brushing his armpits. Julian’s ridiculous little puppy face was rapturous.
Garak brushed his chest and smoothed the sparse strands on his belly. Nudging Julian’s legs apart, he brushed his pubic hair. Julian whined blissfully. His cock was half-hard, thickening slowly.
Julian licked Garak’s hand, whining. Garak set down the brush. He rubbed Julian’s belly, scratching him lighty. Julian licked his hands urgently.
“My silly little monster,” Garak said softly, stroking each patch of his pet’s freshly brushed hair with one hand while Julian licked the other, whining. “I suppose you want a treat.”
At the word “treat,” Julian’s eyes blazed with excitement. He rolled over, looking at Garak expectantly.
“How can I say no to those eyes?” the Cardassian crooned. “Now you wait,” he said warningly, pushing his pants down over his hips. Julian was stock-still, waiting for the command. “Okay!”
Julian buried his face between Garak’s legs, licking eagerly at his ajan. The whining and whimpering went straight to Garak’s prUt, and he everted quickly. Julian slurped at it, then turned around, wiggling his ass.
Garak grasped the puppy tail, pulling it slowly to remove the thick plug.
Julian’s ass gaped obscenely for a moment before Julian, fully human again, lowered himself over Garak’s prUt.
“Sweet Christ, Garak,” Julian gasped, riding him. “Fuck.”
“Articulate as always, my dear,” Garak replied, suppressing a moan.
Julian laughed, lolling his head back onto Garak’s shoulder. “Don’t care,” he giggled.
Garak wrapped his hand around Julian’s cock, drawing a cry of delight from the human bouncing on his prUt. He grasped the collar, still in place, thrusting up into him. “My good boy.”
“Fuck!” Julian groaned, clenching hard. “Fuckfuckfuckmefuck-”
Semen spilled over Garak’s fingers. Julian’s body contracted around him, pulling him over the edge. Garak came, growling as he bit Julian’s shoulder.
They collapsed, panting.
“You’re getting so fucking good at that,” Julian panted.
“I’m beginning to see why you like it,” Garak replied, pulling him close.
Chapter 18: Public
Sooo this one got away from me and I'm so glad it did. Oops? Our boys have some deeply problematic, very hot public sex. Bonus hierophilia, pecattiphilia, hair-pulling kink, rough sex, kind-of-a-lot-of-cum kink.
“Garak, this is a bad idea,” Julian Bashir whispered, tugging Elim Garak’s hand. “Let’s just go back to my quarters.”
“Where’s your spirit of adventure?” Garak purred, pulling Bashir to him. Julian felt a hand grasp him firmly by his -- undeniably, painfully -- hard cock. “Ahh,” the Cardassian breathed. “There it is.” Cool lips brushed his ear, and Julian shuddered.
“No, Garak, this is insane,” Julian argued, trying to pull away.
“Don’t be so squeamish,” Garak said. “No one’s here right now.”
“The prylars are probably around,” Bashir gasped, trying to stay quiet as Garak rubbed his cock through his pants. “I think they clean the temple during the day.”
“Of course they don’t,” Garak murmured, nibbling Julian’s ear with sharp teeth. “They’re too busy sinning between services.”
Julian clenched his teeth around a groan as Garak slotted their thighs together. He could feel the Cardassian had everted, the familiar hardness pressing against Julian’s own. The wall of the Bajoran temple was cold against his back. The idea of Garak letting himself evert inside his pants in a Bajoran sacred space was absolutely shocking. Julian tried not to dwell on how powerfully that idea turned him on.
When Garak had agreed to look at a newly-installed artifact on display in the temple, Julian had been pleasantly surprised. Garak’s handsiness with him while they looked at the sculpture had felt a bit scandalous, but Bashir hadn’t been suspicious when his lover had led him into an adjoining prayer room. Now, his face burned with embarrassment, certain he’d be caught rutting with a Cardassian inside a Bajoran temple.
His shame did nothing to diminish the outrageous state of arousal in which he found himself.
When Garak sank to his knees, Julian grasped at his shirt, trying to stop him. The human looked around, eyes wild. “What are you doing?” he hissed.
“Worshipping,” Garak replied, pulling out Julian’s cock and wrapping his lips around it in a single smooth motion.
Julian bit the inside of his cheek hard to stop himself from crying out. Garak sucked wetly, messily, loudly at his aching erection. Despite himself, Julian slipped fingers into Garak’s hair, caressing his scalp encouragingly. Garak hummed with pleasure, and Julian bit his cheek, tongue, lips in a desperate bid to stay quiet.
When he ventured a glance down, Garak was looking at him with smoldering eyes. Julian gasped softly, then bit his lips again. One of Garak’s hands floated up to Julian’s, and he curled the human’s hand into a fist.
Bashir understood. He grasped Garak’s hair, pulling steadily. Blue eyes flashed, closed. They opened again, blazing. Garak moaned around Julian’s cock. Bashir pulled again, twisting his fingers slightly.
Drool ran from Garak’s mouth as he stared up at Julian. He swallowed Julian’s length deep into his throat, then gagged himself, eyes watering. Julian bit his own forearm, stifling the scream that tried to emerge as he came inside Garak’s twitching throat.
Garak stood, kissing Julian with a mouth full of cum. Julian’s blood burned with shame and arousal. Unthinking, he shoved a hand inside Garak’s trousers, grasping his prUt and jerking him off violently, tongue still savoring a mouth that tasted of himself.
Garak clung to him, panting, body rigid as he approached orgasm. When he came, Julian squeezed him hard, then withdrew his hand. He sucked pale blue cum off one finger, holding Garak’s glassy gaze. He smeared his hand across Garak’s face when they kissed. He shoved fingers into Garak’s mouth, and the Cardassian moaned softly.
They leaned against one another, trembling together, exchanging loving, reverent kisses that tasted of filth and blasphemy.
Julian felt Garak pull his uniform pants up to close, tucking his softening cock.
When Julian drew back, Garak was gazing at him affectionately as the older man produced a comb from one of the hidden pockets in his tunic. He smoothed his hair into place. The comb disappeared and a kerchief emerged. Garak wiped the blue cum off the side of his face and neck, then dabbed at Julian’s lips.
“What the fuck, Garak,” Julian whispered softly, dazed. “I don’t remember the last time I came that hard.”
“Nor I.” Garak pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, raising a brow ridge. “But we need to leave. It’s been at least five minutes since I heard Prylar Rhit return from his dabo game to sweep the temple.”
Chapter 19: Mouth/oral
I've written a lot of oral sex into this series, so I wasn't sure at first what to do with this particular chapter. I think I chose pretty well. Bonus kinks: somnophilia (sort of), 69 (is that a kink?).
Elim Garak awoke gradually. He was immensely comfortable and very warm in the loose-limbed embrace of Julian Bashir. His ajan ached pleasantly from the exquisite abuse Julian had doled out the night before. Garak flexed his hips slightly, enjoying the soreness in his thighs.
Bashir stirred, tightening his hold on Garak. The Cardassian felt Julian’s cock grow hard against his lower back. Garak smiled slightly, being lulled back into sleep by Julian’s deep, even breaths. He dozed.
Waking again, Garak rolled over to find Julian flat on his back, snoring softly. The human was still erect, the bedcovers tented over him.
Garak slipped beneath the covers. He kissed a trail from Julian’s ribs to his inner thighs. He smiled, finding that Julian’s skin still smelled like Garak’s fluids, the acidic scent mixing with Julian’s muskier tone. Garak traced the soft skin of Julian’s erection with a finger, base to tip, then tipped his cock up and took him in his mouth.
He loved this. He loved it. He ached for it sometimes, a desire that felt like a physiological need. The steely hardness beneath the slide of Julian’s foreskin, the delicate texture of the head, the smell and taste of him filling Garak’s senses. He reveled in the swollen feeling inside his own ajan, how desperately wet he felt as he sucked reverently on Julian’s cock. He bobbed his head in slow, sensuous movements, relishing the pressure in his throat as he opened it to accept more of Julian’s thick length.
He heard a breathy murmur of pleasure, and Julian’s hips flexed. A hand found Garak’s hair, and fingers caressed him appreciatively before drawing back the sheet and blanket.
Garak was lying on his side across the bed, braced on one elbow with his legs curled in front of him, face between Julian’s legs. He looked up to see Julian’s head propped on one folded arm, watching him through sleepy eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” Julian murmured, voice thick with sleep. He seemed to doze, briefly, chest rising and falling evenly. He stirred, waking again. He held one hand out, reaching lazily for Garak’s hip. He grunted softly, and Garak slid his mouth slowly off Julian’s cock, slurping noisily. He shifted, bringing his hips closer to Julian. The human pulled him closer, guiding him until Garak straddled Julian’s face.
A mouth brushed his ajan lips, and Garak shuddered, stretching his mouth around Julian’s cock again. He sucked more urgently as a tongue teased him.
Suddenly, Julian rolled them to one side, and Garak felt the human pull Garak’s thick thighs more tightly to each side of his face. Julian buried his face in Garak’s ajan, moaning hungrily into the swollen flesh. Garak writhed, groaning around the cock in his throat.
He hooked his arms around Julian’s hips, resting his face against Julian’s thigh. He pulled in close, creating movement with his tongue and mouth instead of bobbing his head. Julian’s hips rolled in small circles, fucking Garak’s throat with gentle, sleepy thrusts.
They fell into an unhurried rhythm, lingering in the comfortable, languorous warmth. Garak felt himself drift in and out of sleep, even as he sucked worshipfully at Julian’s cock, even as Julian moaned rapturously between his thighs. When he finally everted, he felt liquid spread across his thigh as his fluids and Julian’s saliva spilled from his ajan. It was filthy, wanton. He loved it.
When Julian pulled Garak’s prUt into his mouth, Garak moaned around the cock in his throat. They matched pace, lazy thrusts and drowsy moans that fed into one another. Garak floated, blissful, his craving for Julian’s cock as thick and heady as the intoxicating pleasure of Julian’s face buried between his thick thighs.
A finger slipped inside him, rubbing a slow, teasing path across the underside of Garak’s irllun, the sensitive ridge at the base of his prUt. He whimpered, sliding a finger into Julian to stroke gently across his prostate. The human writhed.
The crescendo was slow, viscous, electrifying. Time lost meaning. Garak’s nerves shimmered as the intensity climbed, and he could feel Julian trembling with tension. When they finally came, Garak wondered for a moment if the cum filling his throat was the same he was pumping into Julian’s mouth. They rode their orgasms as long as they could, suckling and licking and caressing one another. Waves of pleasure rocked Garak, subsiding slowly. Gently.
Garak didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep again until he awoke, face on Julian’s thigh, a soft cock resting near his lips. Julian was stirring between Garak’s legs, and the Cardassian shifted, carefully extricating himself. He lay down next to Julian, the human pulling him close so they lay belly to belly. Warmth suffused Garak. He twined their thighs, seeking as much contact as he could.
“You’re beautiful,” Julian repeated, sleepy and tender.
Garak kissed him, tasting himself on Julian’s lips. “No, you are,” he teased softly, drifting.
“You are,” Julian mumbled, playful. He kissed Garak, then nestled his head under the older man’s chin.
Garak tried to parry, but he fell asleep before he could form the words.
Chapter 20: Restraints
As I get deeper into the Kinktober list, I keep realizing I've already written some version of a lot of these prompts in past chapters. In pretty classic me fashion, I often end up writing something far more extreme than is strictly necessary. This is one of those cases.
So. This chapter involves the (consensual) use of chemical restraints, rather than physical restraints. I'm aware this might be really upsetting for some readers, so *PLEASE choose wisely if you think you might be triggered* by that. Although the CNC prompt is still a few days away, this is basically consensual non-consent in the form of chemically restrained dollification (living sex doll kink).
There's also a bunch of alien porn, and a sneak-attack of unasked for praise kink. So. Classic me?
Thanks to everyone who's still reading even after the pee and daddy stuff and puppy stuff and excessive fluids and straight-up blasphemy <3
I need to relax tonight.
Julian Bashir re-read the message. He bit his lip, thinking.
Of course. He paused, then hit send.
Julian had barely arrived home when the door chimed.
Elim Garak stood on the threshold, agitated.
“Come in,” Julian greeted him.
“Did you bring it?” Garak asked.
Julian nodded. “I did.” He tentatively placed his hands on Garak’s arms, stepping toward him. Sometimes, when Garak was this on edge, he didn’t like being touched. He also didn’t like having it pointed out. Julian was relieved when Garak closed the distance, putting his arms around him.
Despite his acquiescence, Garak felt rigid. Julian rubbed a hand over his shoulders. He kissed his neck, stepping back. “You really need this?”
“Yes,” Garak said, eyes unreadable. “If you feel up to it.”
Julian nodded. “Okay. I’ll set up. Do what you need to do to get ready.”
A few minutes later, Julian sat next to Garak on the bed. The Cardassian was nude, lying atop a heated blanket.
Julian looked down into troubled blue eyes. “You’ll tell me the moment you feel uncomfortable.”
Garak nodded. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Julian touched Garak’s hair. “I love you and I trust you.”
Garak’s opaque eyes softened slightly. “I love you and I trust you.”
Julian pressed a hypospray to Garak’s neck. His muscles went slack, limbs loose, eyes still. It made Julian nervous every time. He picked up a neuromodulator, running it over Garak’s throat and head.
“Can you speak?”
Garak was still. Julian repeated the treatment.
Garak’s eyes turned to him. He made a soft sound in his throat.
Julian ran the device over Garak’s throat one more time. “Yes.” The word was thick, but Garak’s voice projected. Julian set aside the tool.
He sat against the headboard, picking up a glass of tulaberry wine and a PADD, opening a video file. Two naked Vorta men appeared on screen, thighs slotted together. Their purple, flower-like genitalia were engorged. As they moved together, Julian turned up the volume to hear the wet, fleshy sounds. His cock stirred. He set down his wine, then touched himself with a hand he first dipped into Garak’s ajan.
Julian hardened as he watched the Vorta scissor. He set the PADD on Garak’s chest and shoved his legs open. Julian thrust his cock inside Garak, eyes fixed on the PADD. He stroked himself off inside the motionless Cardassian.
Julian rolled off Garak, panting. He sipped a glass of water, then pressed a hypospray to his own neck.
He scrolled through the files on the PADD before opening another video. An Orion woman and a J’naii person lay twined together on a bed. The J’naii fingered the green-skinned woman, who whimpered breathily. Julian hardened again.
He mounted Garak, sinking into an ajan full of his own cum. The Orion woman began to moan, and Julian quickly brought himself to orgasm. He paused the video, sitting on Garak’s thighs to grab the hypospray. He hardened again, hit play, and pushed back into him.
After his third orgasm, Julian left the PADD and walked to the replicator in the other room. He ordered a croissant, eating it as he walked back to the bed and sat. He pressed the hypospray to his neck, then scrolled through the PADD, chewing absently.
Opening the next video, Julian set aside his snack, sipped his wine, and roughly rolled Garak over onto his belly. He surreptitiously checked the angle of Garak’s head to ensure he could breathe. Setting the PADD between Garak’s shoulders, Julian hit play.
A Klingon woman was wrist-deep inside a writhing Klingon man. Julian dipped his cock inside Garak, then rubbed himself in the crease of his ass. He grunted, rutting against Garak’s thick body. He came on his ass and thighs.
Julian did it again and again, using Garak’s body to masturbate. When he felt sure he’d done enough to satisfy Garak, he sat cross-legged next to the Cardassian’s hips. Garak was on his back again. Julian looked down at a tear-streaked face.
“Hi, Garak.” He didn’t expect an answer, and he didn’t get one. “I know I’m not supposed to talk to you when you’re my doll. But you gave me control, so I’m going to do what I want.” Garak looked at him. “I’m so proud of you. You were my perfect toy tonight.” Garak’s eyes filled with fresh tears. Julian stroked his jaw.
“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever known. The most clever. The most dutiful. You’re courageous and loving and gentle. You’re so talented. Staggeringly brilliant. Perfect.” Tears spilled. “Every time I think I know you, you do something new and spectacular, and I fall in love with you all over again.”
Garak averted his eyes, crying.
“Look at me.” Blue eyes met Julian’s gaze. “I’m so in love with you. The depth of it scares me and makes me feel stronger than I have any right to feel. I ran away from home, all the way to the edge of Federation space, only to find that my home is here. With you.”
Julian slipped a hand inside Garak’s swollen, abused ajan. His fingertips found the irllun, and he began to stroke the small, sensitive ridge. “You’re my favorite person in the universe, and I get to wake up next to you tomorrow.” Julian smiled into Garak’s eyes. “It boggles the mind.”
Garak breathed harder.
“I love you when you’re sad, frustrated, scared, angry. All of it. Always.”
Garak was gasping, moaning helplessly.
“Come for me. My perfect, sexy, brilliant, gorgeous love.” Garak did, wailing through a sob.
Julian stroked him through his orgasm. As Garak quieted, Julian reached for a third hypospray, pressing it to Garak’s neck. Arms grasped him, pulling Julian to lie down.
The Cardassian shook. Julian realized he was crying silently. He held Garak, stroked his hair.
Garak finally stilled. When he looked at Julian, his eyes were vulnerable. Grateful. “That was off-script.”
“Mm,” Julian agreed.
Garak cupped his cheek. “Thank you.”
Chapter 21: Medical play
Medical play is pretty straightforward. In this chapter, Julian finally gets Garak to agree to a physical, and they both learn something about him.
Elim Garak scoffed. “No, Julian.”
Julian Bashir took a deep breath, clearly trying to control his frustration. “Garak, please. You haven’t had a single physical in the time I’ve been CMO. I’ve never gotten any non-emergency reading on your health.”
“I’m perfectly healthy.”
“So prove it!”
“Doctor, I’m under no obligation to let you scan my very personal medical information into Starfleet’s repositories.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Is that what you’re worried about? Your privacy? Yes, our system collects health data, but it’s separated from identifying information.”
Garak sighed. “Right. As the sole Cardassian undergoing a physical in your infirmary, I’ll enjoy perfect anonymity.”
Julian started to argue, then bit his lip. He looked at Garak, sheepish. “I guess you have a point.” Garak raised a brow ridge. “But you need to take care of yourself! What if I examine you and don’t record the information?”
Garak sneered. “All your tools automatically upload data.”
Julian smiled. “Not all.”
Garak sat on a metallic table, wearing a thin garment that didn’t close fully in the back. Julian was sorting strange tools on a tray. An overhead light fixture and a rolling light with a jointed arm lit the space.
“I’m not sure why we had to do it in the holosuites, but this is fun,” Julian said. “This room looks like photos I’ve seen.”
Garak shrugged. “Quark is very discreet. And if not, I can ruin him.”
Julian smirked. “Okay. I’m going to write things down, but it’ll disappear with the program. Alright?”
Julian picked up a small, hammer-like object first. He tapped a few of Garak’s joints, seemingly checking his reflexes. He set it down, apparently satisfied.
Next, Julian inserted a listening device into his ears and placed the receiver on Garak’s chest over his chest. The metal was cool against Garak’s skin. He shivered slightly when Julian pressed it to his back.
“Deep breath,” Julian instructed. Garak felt warmth in his ajan at the careful way the human touched him. Obediently, he breathed deeply.
“Good,” Julian said, making a note. He turned to Garak. “Lie down, please.”
When Garak lay on his back, Julian performed a capillary refill test on his shoulder ridges. Garak was impressed Julian knew such an antiquated practice. When the human performed it on his hip ridges, carefully moving the garment aside, the warmth in his ajan intensified.
Garak was surprised when Julian extended two metal arms from the sides of the table. Each ended in a half-circle.
“Please place your legs in the stirrups.” Julian donned a pair of nitrile gloves, business-like.
Garak shivered again. He placed one leg as directed, then hesitated. He felt uncharacteristically shy about feeling aroused, and he knew it would be visible in the thickened tissue of his ajan.
“In the stirrup, please,” Julian repeated. Garak haltingly complied. The garment rode up, displaying his entire lower body. Garak trembled, humiliated, even as he felt himself growing wetter.
Julian wheeled the mobile light to the side of the table, shining it between Garak’s legs. The Cardassian shuddered. He tried to breathe evenly, surprised by his own reaction.
When he glanced up at Julian, Garak’s mouth went dry. He was holding a strange metal device that Garak understood intuitively. He bit his lip, afraid of what he might say if he spoke.
“Are you alright?” Julian asked, looking at Garak with real concern.
“Yes,” Garak said, strained.
“You seem tense. I thought you might find this part sort of, I don’t know, sexy?” Julian’s brow furrowed. “I saved it for the end. But you look upset.”
Garak took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He tried to still the trembling in his thighs. “I do. Find it sexy.”
“Oh. Oh. Okay.” Julian glanced between Garak’s legs, then at the speculum, then back up, affecting a look of professional detachment. “This may be a little cold.”
Garak nodded. He gasped as smooth, cold metal slid inside him. The temperature was just becoming tolerable when he felt it widen. He inhaled sharply, thighs shaking with anticipation.
“We just need to take a quick look at your irllun,” Julian said smoothly, his reassuring tone utterly out of step with the predatory look on his face.
Garak flinched and whimpered as the speculum began to stretch the walls of his ajan. He felt sloppy wet. He wondered what Julian was seeing. Garak knew his body well, but he’d never stretched himself open like this, and certainly not under a spotlight.
The stretch intensified, and he could feel cool air inside him in a way he’d never experienced. Finally, Julian clicked something into place. The stretch stabilized. The feeling of being on display was heady. Garak could feel his fluids beginning to collect and drip down his distended walls.
Julian picked up a wooden stick with a rounded white tip. When he swirled it around Garak’s irllun, the Cardassian screamed, almost blacking out. He everted instantly.
“Hold still, please,” Julian chastised lightly. “I need four more samples.”
Mercilessly, Julian repeated the move with four other sticks. Garak cried out each time, helpless to stay quiet.
When Julian wrapped a gloved hand around Garak’s prUt, he whined like he was being scalded.
“You must be uncomfortable,” he purred. “Let’s get this back into place.”
Garak moaned, body burning with the exhilaratingly erotic humiliation of being jerked off under a spotlight while his ajan was propped wide open like a breached airlock. The gloves felt foreign, exciting, impersonal. He imagined Julian was disgusted by him and his embarrassingly copious fluids.
Garak cried out when he came, a shout dissolving into a hiss. He shook uncontrollably, unseeing. He felt Julian’s warm hands on his face, gloves off, petting him. Lips found his, tender and reassuring.
The spotlight receded. The speculum clicked, relaxing the stretch before it slipped out. A warm hand caressed his ajan, distracting him from the ache.
“I had no idea,” Julian whispered, kissing his aural ridge.
Garak breathed deeply, steadying himself. “Me neither.”
I can’t believe Kinktober is 2/3 over!!
Chapter 22: Teasing
Teasing! Everything I write is teasing. Usually cute teasing, or sweet teasing, or flirtatiously antagonistic teasing. This is more like Julian-is-about-to-use-his-safeword teasing. So there's that.
Bonus kinks: omorashi, restraints, roleplay, consensual violence, knife play.
Okay, so I lied a little in the description for Kinktober. Chapters 22 and 23 are parts 1 and 2 of a single story. My bad.
ALSO. They're both really intense, but especially 23. TW consensual violence, TW every bodily fluid, TW it's gross. Like for real. Choose wisely.
If you just want to read some life-affirming teasing, read almost anything else I've written about these two (including most chapters of Kinktober). It's basically their whole dynamic in my headcanon.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“You’re sweating through your clothes, Mr Bashir.” Elim Garak circled the chair in which Julian Bashir sat. “You must be uncomfortable.”
Julian gasped. They’d sat in silence for nearly an hour, and the sound of Garak’s voice seemed to rattle him.
Perfect, Garak thought. He paused to take in the moment. Julian had been cajoling him for this for nearly a month, and as he watched the human breathe heavily at the mere sound of his voice, Garak wondered why he’d said no for so long.
“Computer, raise ambient humidity another 5%. Increase temperature to 47C.” Garak watched Julian for any reaction. Sweat dripped from his hair, but the man said nothing.
When Julian had first asked to roleplay interrogation, Garak had doubted his fortitude. Julian was already proving more stubborn than Garak had estimated.
“You’re very stoic, Mr Bashir.” Garak stopped circling, uncapping a bottle of water. He saw Julian’s eyes focus on it, then look away sharply. “I respect it, I do.” He sipped. “But I think you’ll find stoicism fails as the body fails.”
Julian looked at him defiantly.
“Well,” Garak chirped. “There’s no reason to be uncivilized.” He stepped closer to the human, grabbing his hair and tipping his head back. “Here. Drink.”
Julian accepted gratefully at first, then looked panicked as Garak held him in place to finish the liter bottle. Garak released him only when the bottle was empty.
Garak walked away. He ordered himself dinner at the replicator, then sat to eat. He picked up a PADD to read. He felt Julian watching him, suspicious but silent.
When Garak finished his meal, he returned his dishes to the reclamation unit, sipped his rokassa juice, and sat back down at the table. He looked at Julian, whose body was taut with tension.
“Feel like talking yet?”
Julian glared, but Garak could see the first real sign of trepidation in his eyes.
Garak smiled. “Don’t fret. I’m very patient.” He stood, picking up a small knife from the table. “But you look so uncomfortable in those sweaty clothes. Let me help.” Approaching Julian, Garak made a show of examining him. “There’s no way to undress you without untying you, and I’m afraid we’ve yet to establish quite enough trust to permit that.” He put a finger under Julian’s chin, earning another angry look.
The anger turned to fear as Garak pulled Julian’s uniform and slashed it open across the upper chest. Julian shuddered, chest heaving. Garak smiled serenely, running his fingers across the sweat-damp skin.
With just a few more motions, Garak cut loose the top of the uniform. One by one, he pulled ribbons of fabric from beneath the ropes that bound Julian’s torso and hands. Gooseflesh stood out on Julian’s skin even in the sweltering heat.
“There,” Garak purred. “Is that more comfortable?”
Julian’s jaw was set, but Garak noticed he was squirming.
“Has the truth come to you yet, my dear?” Garak asked innocuously. “You seem eager to tell me something.”
“No,” Julian growled through gritted teeth.
“Ah! He speaks,” Garak said warmly. “We’re making progress.”
“No. I just- I have to urinate.”
“Please.” Julian’s eyes pleaded, but he hadn’t said his safeword.
Garak sat again, face impassive.
“Please,” Julian begged. “It’s starting to hurt.”
Garak stared. “Mm.”
Julian fell silent, but he shook with effort.
Garak watched. He did love these moments of tension.
Julian teared up, trembling, squirming, thighs clenched together. After several slow, agonizing minutes, Julian sobbed suddenly, curling in on himself. Garak watched piss run off the seat of the chair, down Julian’s legs, and onto the floor. The human stared down, face and chest a deep red, trying to control his breathing.
Garak smiled. So stubborn. This is going to be more fun than I thought.
Long minutes dragged by before Garak stood again. Julian began to shake, eyes still lowered.
“You can’t sit here in wet clothes,” Garak chided softly, then began cutting away the piss-soaked uniform pants and underwear. When Julian was naked, Garak sat down again. “Have you thought of anything you’d like to share?”
Julian slowly stopped shaking. Raising his eyes to Garak’s, he sat up. His cock was hard. His jaw was set. “Fuck you.”
Garak smiled. “I don’t believe that’s on the menu.” He stood, moving his chair close to Julian’s, so they sat facing each other, almost knee to knee.
The human trembled, and his cock twitched.
Garak pulled the knife from his pocket again. Leaning forward, he showed it to Julian, letting the light play across its blade. “Have you ever seen such fine craftsmanship?” he asked conversationally. “It slices through fabric as cleanly as a rotary laser, and I’ve had to sharpen it just once.” He traced the dull side of the blade against Julian’s throat, and the human gasped. “You’re right. It is exhilarating.”
Julian stared at him, angry and aroused in equal measure.
Garak traced the tip of the knife down Julian’s collarbone to his chest. He flipped the knife, shaving a few hairs. Julian trembled, breath hitching. Garak grazed the blade along Julian’s ribs and down the line of his hip. He paused next in Julian’s hip crease.
The human panted, staring at him.
“Now hold very still,” Garak warned. “I’d hate to squander such a beautiful cock.”
Julian inhaled sharply as Garak ran the flat of the knife over the head of his erection. Garak tipped the blade to rest the weight of it on the dull side, pressing it lightly against the underside of Julian’s glans.
The human panicked, crying out. Garak smiled, sheathing the knife and slipping it into a pocket. “Oh, come now,” he scolded. “An overreaction.”
Suddenly, Julian spat on Garak. Before he’d even closed his lips, Garak backhanded him across the mouth. The human cried out in pain, and blood oozed from a split lip.
“And after I’ve been so hospitable,” Garak said icily, wiping the spit from his cheek with a kerchief. “This simply won’t do.”
In case you skipped the first note, this chapter's story concludes in the next chapter!
Chapter 23: Blood play
It's blood play! It's self-explanatory, and I think it's its own trigger warning, right?
Bonus kinks: restraints, consensual violence, spit, knife play.
This chapter is a continuation of chapter 22 (teasing). I guess you could read this without that, but why?
But seriously. TW blood, TW gross, TW no really. Choose wisely.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Julian cried out when the chair tipped over. He slammed onto the ground, hands pinned under him but protected from serious injury by the widely spaced backrest. He gasped for air, trying to catch his breath.
Garak stood over him, eyes cold. He grabbed one of Julian’s feet and then the other, pulling them. He realized his bound ankles were looped over the front legs of the chair, preventing him from closing his own thighs. His erection blazed back as he squirmed, helpless.
“I’d tell you not to bother, but you’re a terrible listener,” Garak said softly, examining tools on the small table. Out of Julian’s line of sight, the clink of the implements felt sinister. “In fact, struggle. The sooner you wear yourself out, the sooner you tell me what I want to know.”
“I’m never going to tell you anything,” Julian spat.
Garak sighed, still sorting items on the table. “Well. You say that.” When he turned around, he was holding the knife again. He turned the blade in his hand. “Who am I to argue with a classic. But first.” He stepped over Julian, crouching down to straddle his chest. Julian stared up, insolent, gasping just in time to feel spit splatter across his lips and chin. “I owed you one.”
Julian’s skin burned with shame. Beneath him, his hands were pressed into his own piss. His face dripped with saliva, mixing with the blood of his split lip. He was still drenched in sweat. His legs were spread-eagled, displaying -- perhaps most humiliating of all -- his eagerly leaking erection.
Garak crouched next to Julian. “This next part is my favorite,” he said, almost as an aside. He grasped Julian’s right thigh, squeezing the skin between his fingers. He pressed, holding Julian’s leg still. The human had just enough time to whimper before the blade slid, cool and quick, across his thigh on a diagonal from medial to lateral.
The sting took hold fully three seconds after the blood appeared, some permanently scientific portion of Julian’s mind couldn’t help but note. Garak traced two more parallel lines, two inches apart, before pausing to admire his handiwork. Blood welled, dripped. Drops from the most distal cut became rivulets as they joined the two more proximal.
Julian stared, breathlessly aroused.
The first cut on the left side was slow, as if Garak was savoring it. Julian did. The fear had given way to excitement. He looked up at Garak as the older man positioned the knife for the next cut. Julian’s cock ached.
Garak looked at him, eyes unreadable. “Something to say?”
Julian swallowed wordlessly a few times, then whispered. “Please.”
Garak’s eyes dilated, but he stayed in character, cutting the next line just as slowly. Julian whined, unable to roll his hips as Garak pinned his thigh. After the third cut, Garak released his hold, and Julian flexed, cock bobbing as blood dripped up his thighs. Blood had begun to seep into his hip crease on the right side, and Julian’s breath hitched when he felt it run into the cleave of his ass.
Garak positioned himself closer to Julian’s shoulder. He drew a slow, curved line from Julian’s sternum to just beneath the lateral point of his collarbone, first on one side and then the other.
Julian felt the sting, but he couldn’t tell how deeply he’d been cut. “Am I bleeding?” he asked, glancing toward his chest.
Unsmiling, Garak dragged the flat of the knife across Julian’s chest, then held it to his mouth.
Julian could see blood on the shining blade in the moments before it contacted his lips. When it did, he shuddered. Staring up at Garak, he opened his mouth lustfully.
“Gentle,” Garak chastised, as if he might damage the blade.
Julian extended his tongue, carefully licking his blood off the knife. His cock jumped, throbbing. He trembled with need.
Garak set the knife aside. He swiped his fingers through the blood on Julian’s chest, then held them to Julian’s lips. Julian groaned, sucking a finger into his mouth.
He cried out around the second finger when he felt Garak’s other hand rub the sliced flesh of his thighs, reigniting the burn. He almost screamed when Garak’s blood-slicked hand grasped his hard cock, stroking.
Julian shuddered, sucking his blood off Garak’s fingers while incredible tension built between his legs. His whole body felt hot, craving more, as he sped toward the brink.
Then nothing. He sobbed real tears, the loss of sensation devastatingly painful.
“Please,” he cried shamelessly. “Please. Garak, I need it, please, please, pleaseGarakplease-”
Julian’s eyes snapped open as Garak sliced the rope binding his ankles, then the one holding him to the chair. Garak picked up him, leaving his hands tied behind his back. Julian felt himself slammed down on a countertop next to the replicator.
Garak squeezed Julian’s right thigh, earning a squeal of pain. Julian gasped when bloody fingers sank into him, stretching him open. The idea was so arousing he almost calme right then.
Julian heard clothing closures pop, and then Garak was pushing into him. As Garak thrust his prUt deep inside Julian, one hand smeared fresh blood on Julian’s cock.
Julian submitted utterly to the sensations wracking his body. He grunted under Garak’s heavy thrusts, keening at the exquisite feeling of blood dripping down his torso and legs. When Julian came, he collapsed onto the counter, held up only by Garak’s hands on his bound wrists.
Garak continued fucking him until Julian begged for him to stop, sobbing with overstimulation. Warmth flooded him suddenly, so deliciously akin to the flow of blood from his wounds.
Garak lowered him to the floor, resetting climate controls and pulling a heavy blanket over them. A bag of medical tools appeared.
“Julian.” Hands cupped his face tenderly. “Talk to me.”
Julian smiled hazily at concerned blue eyes. “I love you,” he said, voice fuzzy. “Garak, I love you.”
Lips pressed against his forehead, then a hypospray against his neck.
Sorry, or you're welcome? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chapter 24: Lingerie
Lingerie, kinda. Also: teasing, salirophilia, CNC (rape roleplay), humiliation. Also cutesy aftercare.
Let's just assume this is happening after Garak knows Julian is genetically enhanced and strong as heck.
Julian Bashir stared at the burgundy satin in his desk drawer. His blood raced, hot. It was time.
“Nurse Tagana?” he called, closing the drawer and standing.
“Yes, Doctor?” The Bajoran poked her head into his office.
“I have a matter I need to attend to that should take no longer than a couple hours. You’ll page me if I’m needed?”
“Of course, Doctor Bashir.”
Julian nodded, striding out of the infirmary.
He didn’t stop until he reached Elim Garak’s quarters.
Garak greeted with him a surprised smile. “Ah, Ju-”
The words cut off when Bashir grabbed Garak, pushing him backward into his quarters. Julian hit the code to secure the door before wrestling Garak to the ground.
“How dare you?” Julian hissed, staring down into wide blue eyes that looked much less surprised than they should.
Garak tried to shrug innocently, but it was difficult with his arms pinned. “How dare I what?”
Julian released one of Garak’s arms, ripping his tunic down the front. “The fishnets in my kit.” He ripped the undershirt. “The garters in my uniform pocket.” He shifted back, pulling Garak’s trousers open as hook and eye fasteners flew. “The satin underwear in my drawer.”
Bashir paused, sitting back on Garak’s thighs, taking in the sight of the Cardassian beneath him. Garak was wearing a sapphire-blue lace bodysuit. Thin lines of silvery thread ran through it, shimmering in the dim lighting of his quarters. Lace stretched from his chest, just below his shoulder ridges, over his belly and hips, down his thighs, disappearing beneath his trousers. The lace hugged each curve and ridge in a way that made Julian’s mouth water and his cock ache. Delicate cut-outs exposed Garak’s chula and chuva.
Leaning down, Julian pinned Garak’s arms again, pulling them over his head in one hand. “You try to embarrass me?” he whispered, menacing. “Now I’m going to humiliate you.” He rutted against Garak, ripping the front of the body suit open from the chuva cut-out down to his thighs, leaving his ajan exposed.
Garak gasped, struggling. Julian pulled his cock out of his uniform pants and shoved roughly into Garak. The Cardassian cried out, trying to buck Bashir off.
Julian grabbed Garak around the throat, his iron grip earning a gasp and much less resistance from the older man.
“I’m not afraid to break your neck, filthy Cardie,” he hissed, trying not to wince at the word. Garak had told him to be cruel, but that one was tough. “Disgusting slut.” He fucked Garak hard, hips snapping. He could feel how wet his lover was, playing this role. It was intoxicating.
Garak struggled to breathe beneath him, eyes tearing up.
Julian grunted with each thrust, fucking Garak into the floor with everything he had. He felt Garak evert, and he turned his whimper of arousal into a growl. “Fucking slut,” he panted, sneering at Garak. “You pretend you want to get away, but you fucking love this.”
Garak shook his head, but Julian grabbed his jaw, holding him still.
“You’re sloppy wet and your hideous little Cardie cock just slithered out,” he taunted breathlessly. “Fucking wet and hard for my big, hard human cock.” Gripping Garak’s jaw, he squeezed until his lips parted. “Nasty Cardie slut.” He spit into Garak’s mouth, feeling thick hips rise to meet his. Garak’s eyes widened, rolling back.
Julian laughed. “Did you just come all over yourself?” He reached between them, then smeared pale blue semen across Garak’s mouth, neck, and chest, staining the dark blue lace.
He pulled out of Garak, shifting forward. “Cardie trash,” he gasped, jerking himself to climax. His semen painted ropey lines across Garak’s face and chest.
Julian stood, making a disdainful face at Garak’s ruined form below him. “You disgust me,” he hissed.
Garak lay on the bed, still warm from his shower. He curled close to Julian, who stroked his hair affectionately. Pressing a kiss to Julian’s collarbone, he dozed.
When he awoke, Julian was still wrapped around him. Garak stretched, shifting so he could see Julian’s face.
“Hello, love,” Bashir said softly, smiling. A warm hand cupped Garak’s cheek.
“Mmm,” Garak hummed wordlessly. He blinked a few times, looking at Julian’s face. “Thank you.” He felt his neck. The bruises he’d expected to feel weren’t there. He smiled slightly.
“You can’t walk around wearing a necklace of bruises in the shape of my hand,” Julian said, grinning mischievously. “As much as I might like that.”
Garak hummed again, smiling as he closed his eyes. “Stop, you’re making me wet.”
Julian chuckled, kissing him.
Garak opened his eyes, looking impishly in Julian’s direction. “You don’t actually have to stop.”
Julian’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “You’re insatiable,” he said, drawing Garak closer and twining their thighs.
“Mmm,” Garak agreed, running a hand over Julian’s hip. “And I’m running out of lingerie.”
Julian’s hand slipped between them, fingering Garak’s ajan. Garak sighed with pleasure. God, but he loved this man.
“I like you without it, too, I suppose,” the human teased.
Garak’s breath caught. He spread his thighs as he rolled onto his back, bringing Julian with him. Garak wrapped his arms around him, whimpering softly as he Julian entered him again.
Chapter 25: Hair
This is maybe more of a shaving kink than a hair kink, but I feel like shaving is under the umbrella of hair?
If you're suspicious of me after the last few chapters, this is vanilla as shit and cute to boot. So. Enjoy.
Elim Garak smoothed a light, silky cream over Julian Bashir’s jaw and throat and around his mouth. It was warm, and Julian breathed deeply, relaxing. The human sat in a chair, reclining slightly with his head leaned back. His eyes were closed, brow smooth. Garak smiled slightly, picking up his blade.
A few weeks prior, he and Julian had read and discussed a play called Sweeney Todd. Intrigued by the idea of barbers — a profession that didn’t exist in the same manner in Cardassian culture — Garak had researched them. Since then, he’d begged Julian to let him shave him, and they’d finally gotten a chance to do it.
“Ready, my dear?”
Julian’s eyes opened a crack. “Ready when you are. Don’t Sweeney Todd me, please.”
Garak grinned. He angled the blade, gliding it up Julian’s throat. The human watched him quietly. Garak’s heart stirred at the trusting look in Julian’s eyes.
“Feels nice,” Julian murmured after the fourth stroke of the blade. His hazel eyes were warm, affectionate, gazing up at Garak.
This gorgeous creature, Garak thought. It always surprised him that he could be so caught off guard by Julian’s beauty, even a couple years into their relationship. When they’d first met, he’d mistaken the earnestness and vulnerability that animated Julian for foolish naivete. He now realized it was simply a part of how the human operated. Moments when Julian entrusted his safety to Garak — of all people! — demonstrated to the Cardassian the immense strength his lover truly possessed. He saw it when Julian allowed Garak to break him down physically or emotionally, he’d seen it when Julian had told him he loved him for the first time with no expectation of hearing the same, he saw it when Julian closed his eyes and let Garak hold a blade to his throat.
Garak felt deeply protective of Julian as he glided the blade over his soft, delicate skin. The small hairs made a faint rasping sound as they gave way under the sharp blade. He worked methodically from right to left, setting down his blade when he finished. He unrolled a hot towel, pressing it lightly to Julian’s face to remove the residue of the cream.
Julian sighed contentedly under the warmth, eyes fluttering open, then closed, then open again. When Garak removed the towel, he gently smoothed a calming lotion over Julian’s freshly shaved face. The human smiled up at him.
“That was wonderful.” He stood, facing the Cardassian. “Thank you, Garak,” he said sweetly, wrapping his arms around Garak.
“It was my pleasure, my dear.” He took half a step back and ran a thumb along Julian’s jaw. “Does it hurt at all?”
Julian smiled. “No. You’re very gentle. It’s actually quite sensual, the warm cream and cold blade and these very light touches of your hands.” He kissed Garak again, holding his face between his hands. “I feel very cared for.”
Garak kissed him back hungrily, tasting his mouth and stroking his smooth jaw with his fingertips. “You are,” he murmured, blood rushing to his ajan and prUt.
Julian pushed Garak slowly backward, until they reached the sofa. Garak sat, and Julian climbed onto his lap, not breaking their kiss. Garak caressed the slim hips and thighs that straddled his own, reveling in the sound of Julian moaning and sighing against his mouth.
When Julian finally pulled back slightly, they were both breathless, hips moving as they sought friction. “I want you,” he whispered against Garak’s aural ridge.
The Cardassian felt heat surge between his legs. “I’m yours,” he whispered back. He rolled them sideways so that Julian lay on his back on the couch. He removed his clothing as Julian unfastened his trousers and pushed them down. His cock strained at the damp fabric of his underwear, springing free when Julian pushed his underwear down his thighs.
Garak put one leg on the sofa, lowering himself until his swollen ajan made contact with Julian’s erection. He rolled his hips, sliding over Julian’s length and spreading his slippery-wet fluids. Julian hissed with pleasure at the contact, pulling Garak harder against his own hips. Garak let himself glide over Julian for a long moment, savoring the feeling, before peeling Julian’s fingers away. He lifted himself and guided Julian’s cock into his ajan as he lowered his hips.
Both men moaned as Garak settled over Julian, the human’s full length inside him. Garak’s prUt felt electric, crowded next to Julian’s cock. The pressure was exquisite as Garak began to roll his hips in an elliptical motion. Julian gasped beneath him, gripping his thighs, staring up with burning hazel eyes.
Garak’s heart beat wildly in his chest as he met Julian’s gaze. He breathed harder as he rode Julian’s cock, tension building. Julian began lightly pinching the upper edge of Garak’s chuva, drawing whimpers of pleasure. His hips faltered as he everted.
Julian grasped Garak’s prUt, stroking it slowly. Garak rolled his hips more rapidly. The wet sounds of Julian’s hand on his prUt and Julian’s cock sliding inside him drove Garak wild. He fucked himself on Julian’s erection harder and harder, grunting and whimpering, watching Julian’s face contort with pleasure.
When Julian began to thrust helplessly beneath him, Garak responded by crying out with each swivel of his own hips. He felt heat deep within him, pushing him over the edge. He rode his orgasm, rubbing his irllun against Julian’s cock and thrusting into his hand.
He collapsed on top of Julian, who wrapped his arms and legs around Garak. They lay still, quiet except for the sound of their breathing returning to normal.
“Garak,” Julian said softly, kissing his hair.
“Mm,” Garak acknowledged, still feeling too boneless and content to speak.
“I’m never shaving my own face again,” Julian teased lightly.
Chapter 26: Leather
Leather! Bonus: impact play, bondage. Fairly typical leather scene stuff.
As Julian Bashir crawled across the cold, currently concrete floor of the holosuite — naked but for a leather harness — he wondered why he hadn’t shared his old Terran pornography collection with Elim Garak sooner. Like, much sooner. It was startling to think they’d known each other for years before this particular moment had come to fruition.
It’s just foolish, really, Julian chided himself as he licked Garak’s high leather boots.
Indeed, it had been Garak who’d suggested they share. It had been Garak who’d smirkingly proposed a holosuite date just days later. It was Garak who’d orchestrated a fantasy so perfect Julian’s mouth had gone dry the second he stepped into the holosuite.
Julian felt sheepish that he’d denied himself the splendor of this moment for so long.
And splendid it was. Garak towered over him. Smirking. Cruelty in his blue eyes. Every inch of him domineering, imperious. Not that Julian was looking anymore. He was focused on the heavy-soled, lace-up, black leather boots under his tongue. Despite the specificity of his focus, he was acutely aware of the soft leather pants that encased Garak’s legs. Indeed, Julian was certain the leather pants smelled and tasted different than the leather boots. He was eager to find out.
He was also certain Garak had custom-made the harness he wore across his broad, intricately-scaled chest. It fell wide around his shoulder ridges. Its only ring was chu’en-shaped, opening around his chula. Clearly an adornment. By contrast, the harness Julian wore had a pair of D-rings on the shoulders and an O-ring over his sternum. He felt very small in it. Pliable. Pliant. Compliant.
He loved it.
Julian moaned as a crop came down on his hip. “Thank you, sir,” he said thickly.
Garak nudged Julian with one foot. “Make them both shine,” he instructed coldly.
Julian obediently switched to the other boot. “Yes, sir.”
His cock throbbed. He tilted his hips, hoping Garak would punish his lascivious posture. He wasn’t disappointed. He whined under the sting of the crop, thanking Garak breathlessly.
Suddenly, Garak jerked him up by his hair, holding him at eye level with his crotch but just out of reach. Drool dripped over Julian’s lip. The humiliation was exquisite as Garak forced him to lick the drop off his boot. He apologized, relishing the heat of the crop. God, why hadn’t he asked for this sooner?
“Please, sir,” he begged, gazing up at Garak.
“Please what?” Garak growled, striking his hip.
“May I worship more of your leather?” he breathed.
Garak smiled coolly. “You may.”
Julian closed his eyes as Garak shoved his face against his crotch. He licked reverently, relishing the softer texture and richer smell of the leather here. He lost himself in it, licking and moaning as the fire between his legs raged. Why had he never asked for this?
Julian moaned rapturously when Garak everted, redoubling his efforts to please the Cardassian standing over him. When Garak finally opened his leather pants, pulling out his prUt, Julian whimpered with need. Garak held him by the hair, smearing his prUt all over Julian’s face, slapping him with it. Julian drooled again. Garak rewarded him this time by shoving his prUt down Julian’s throat.
The human gagged, drooling. His eyes watered, but he tried to swallow Garak’s prUt, flexing his throat around it. Garak let him choke himself on it for a few minutes before he grabbed Julian’s hair again. He fucked Julian’s throat, bringing the crop down on his hips and ass. Julian cried out, euphoric.
Sooner than he would have liked, Julian was dragged to his feet. Garak snapped a leather cockring into place behind Julian’s balls, then led him to a small metal scaffold equipped with chains. Julian shivered with anticipation as Garak clipped the D-rings on his shoulders to a set of chains. The Cardassian then picked up one of Julian’s legs after the other, snapping his ankles into leather cuffs attached to the frame. The cuffs spread his legs, holding them behind his body.
Oh, fuck. It was hard to think articulate thoughts in moments like this.
Julian squealed when the leather tendrils of a flogger slapped the skin of his low back. His ass. Shoulders. Thighs. Harder, gradually. Harder, unrelentingly. Harder, until his throat felt raw. Harder, making his trapped cock strain uselessly in its own bondage.
Julian was nearly incoherent when Garak stepped between his legs. He had a moment of clarity, of recognizing the cool flesh brushing his overheated thighs, before everything went white. Dark. Blank.
Phosphenes danced behind his eyes as his vision began to clear. It gave form to the explosive feeling inside him. Garak’s prUt set off fireworks in his prostate. Lightning bolts. An intergalactic wormhole. A supernova, maybe.
Julian couldn’t hear himself anymore over the blood rushing in his ears, but his throat felt like he was screaming. He was probably screaming.
He felt Garak using the harness for leverage. Julian thought, idly, that Garak might actually split him in half. He liked the idea, but he didn’t think about it long. He didn’t think much of anything.
He felt Garak come inside him, even distracted as he was by the teeth sinking into his shoulder blade. His own cock ached. He’d almost forgotten.
Julian blinked when Garak grasped his jaw. Blue eyes silently praised him for the spit dripping down his neck, for the blood dripping down his shoulder, for the cum dripping down his thighs. Julian felt proud.
“You’re going to cum for me.”
Julian nodded desperately. “Thank you, sir.”
Garak unsnapped the cockring. He placed a hand around Julian’s throat, squeezing too lightly, Julian thought. He leaned down and suckled at one nipple.
Before skepticism at the minimal stimulation could fully form in his mind, Julian felt his entire body flex, clenching. Crying out. His heard his semen hit the floor. His hips rolled against the air.
He met Garak’s eyes again.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
Chapter 27: CNC
Consensual non-consent (CNC) is rape roleplay. That's its own trigger warning, right?
Bonus: (futuristic) gun kink, piercings, possibility of getting caught.
****** If you are going to find this triggering, please don't read it! ******
Elim Garak glanced around his shop, surveying the customers present. A Pakled man stood in front of the same display of belts he’d been staring at for ten minutes. An Andorian who’d said they were meeting a friend sat in the waiting area, reading from a PADD. Deciding he could leave them alone momentarily, Garak slipped into the workroom in the back to grab a display case of Bajoran earrings he’d forgotten to set up that morning.
He froze, gasping softly, when he felt a phaser pressed again his back.
“You’ll stay very quiet if you want to live,” a voice said softly, next to his ear.
Garak shuddered. He was still frozen when a hand pushed him forward, hard, shoving him down across his work table. The phaser pressed against the nape of his neck.
A hand roughly pulled his trousers and undergarments down, and he shivered in the cool air. The hand groped his ass, squeezing and pulling. He bit his lip to muffle a gasp when the hand grabbed at his ajan, sinking three fingers into him. When he squirmed, the phaser pressed harder, and he stilled, shaking.
“Don’t be stupid,” the voice warned. “This part is for your own benefit. I like a swollen Cardie cunt, but I’m perfectly happy to fuck you cold and dry.”
Garak’s breath caught. He trembled as the warm hand fucked him forcefully, bumping roughly against his prUt.
“You’re getting so wet,” the voice sneered. “God, what a disgusting Cardie slut.” Garak suppressed a whine of arousal.
He felt the phaser sliding slowly down his back. No, he thought, mind racing. He said he didn’t want to.
Garak bit his own arm to stay quiet when Julian Bashir pushed the phaser inside his ajan. He was dizzy with arousal -- with fear -- barely able to keep his legs under him as Julian fucked him viciously with the phaser. Garak shook violently, clinging helplessly to the table.
Tears sprang to his eyes when he felt himself evert. Julian’s hand stopped, and he chuckled low in his throat.
“God, you’re repulsive.” He grabbed at Garak’s prUt and ajan, squeezing the engorged tissue harshly. Garak whined. Without further ceremony, Julian shoved his cock inside Garak, who bit his arm again at the intrusion.
Garak’s mind reeled. He knew Julian so intimately. Something was different. A sensation he didn’t understand. Julian held Garak down more firmly against the desk until Garak’s face pressed sideways. He glanced at Julian, eyes rolling wildly.
“What’s wrong, Cardie bitch?” Julian cooed, voice icy. “I know this isn’t your first Starfleet dick.” He grinned. “Oh, I bet I know. Cardie’s don’t pierce those tiny little cocks of yours. Wouldn’t fit into your cunts anymore, would they?”
Garak tried to shake his head.
“You’re sloppy wet trying to imagine it. If you’re an obedient little Cardie cunt I’ll show you what’s fucking you so good when we’re done.”
Garak whined, and Julian shoved the phaser between his teeth.
“Nasty slut,” he hissed. “Suck on it and keep fucking quiet.” His hips snapped hard, and Garak muffled a moan against the phaser.
It tasted like his own fluids and a faint hint of blood. The effect was intoxicating. Garak began to suck in earnest, cleaning the taste of himself off the metal.
Julian began grunting softly. Garak’s arousal rose with each sound, each indication of Julian taking cruel pleasure in using him. His own prUt throbbed, but Julian knew the angle to avoid his irllun and keep him frustrated. Garak was delirious with need. He kept quiet only by sucking the phaser, drowning his cries of pleasure deep in his own throat.
When Julian came, he pulled out, splashing semen across Garak’s ass and thighs. The human extracted his phaser and beamed away wordlessly. Garak collapsed, shaking.
Perhaps a minute later, he heard Julian’s voice in the shop, smoothly professional as he apologized to the Pakled and the Andorian. He heard the exterior door lowering.
Julian stepped into the workroom, kneeling next to Garak. “Darling,” he said softly, touching Garak’s hair.
“My dear,” Garak murmured, looking up at him. “A blanket, and the dermal regenerator, I think.”
Warm, Garak lay still while Julian repaired the bloody bite Garak had inflicted on his own forearm, then checked his teeth.
“Anywhere else?” Julian asked, handing him a glass of water.
“I’m not sure,” Garak said, gesturing down with a look.
Julian’s hazel eyes shone with concern. Reaching beneath the blanket, that same warm hand, reverently careful now, touched Garak, probing for injuries inside him. Garak hissed when a finger touch broken skin, and Julian drew back the blanket to use the dermal regenerator.
He set it aside when he was done, then rolled Garak to clean the semen from his scales.
“No,” Garak said. “Just the floor.”
Julian looked at him, brow creased, but he nodded and did as he was asked. When the floor was clean, Julian pulled Garak’s undergarments and trousers up, leaving them unfastened.
“May I hold you?” Julian asked, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. Garak nodded.
Julian arranged his legs on either side of Garak’s body, pulling the Cardassian up so his back rested against Julian’s chest and belly. Julian leaned against the wall. He pulled the blanket up, then wrapped his arms around Garak, affectionately nuzzling his aural ridge and neck.
Garak sighed contentedly, leaning his head back against Julian’s slim shoulder, letting his body relax. “I didn’t expect you today,” he murmured after a long silence.
“I know.” He could hear Julian’s smile. A warm hand rubbed circles on his chest and abdomen. “You were magnificent.”
Garak smiled, nestling his head under Julian’s chin. “I have a wonderful partner.” Another contented silence fell.
After a while, Julian fingers brushed Garak’s chuva as lips trailed across his jaw. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Garak breathed, melting even more into Julian’s arms. He sighed blissfully as a warm hand grasped his prUt, stroking him tenderly.
Chapter 28: Begging
Begging! Another thing I often write as a matter of course. Bonus kinks: locked chastity, orgasm denial.
Julian Bashir swallowed a mouthful of pale blue Cardassian cum, gazing devotedly up at Elim Garak’s face.
“Good boy,” Garak said, stroking Julian’s hair for a moment before picking up a PADD to read. He leaned back against the sofa, relaxing.
Julian’s cock strained uncomfortably against the chastity cage locked around it. He bit his lip, trying not to say something he’d regret. He was still struggling when Garak looked up, brow ridge raised in question.
“Do you need something, my dear?”
Julian trembled slightly, still indecisive.
“Speak up, Julian,” Garak said sternly.
“I- I would- It’s been so long. I’d like to be allowed to orgasm, sir,” Julian stammered.
He knew it was a bad idea before he said it. Garak’s sigh confirmed it.
“Get your toy,” Garak sighed again.
Julian cowered. “I’m sorry, sir, I-“
“And the cane.”
Julian’s stomach lurched. He stood, retrieving the vibrator and cane. Returning to the sofa, he knelt, offering the items to Garak.
The Cardassian took them, then looked at Julian. Julian turned, shaking, settling on his elbows and knees, ass raised, thighs parted. He shivered, equal parts discomfort, arousal, and anticipation.
“I think ten is fair.” Garak’s voice was smooth.
The first blow painted a line of stinging pain across Julian’s right hip and ass cheek. He whimpered, cock straining painfully against its confinement.
The second created symmetry on his left side. The third, though, was much harder. Julian squealed, the backs of his thighs burning. The fourth was harder still.
By the time Garak had finished the tenth stroke of his cane, Julian was shaking, sweating. His skin burned.
But the worst was still to come. Tears blurred his vision as he waited.
Julian’s breath caught when he heard the toy buzz to life. Strong vibration trailed across the metal encasing his cock, and his groan exploded into a guttural shout.
“Please,” he whispered.
He cried out again as the vibrator skimmed his perineum.
“Please, sir,” Julian repeated hoarsely.
The vibrator lingered on the metal again, and he lost control, thrashing. Tears coursed from his eyes.
“Please,” he sobbed. “Please, Garak.”
“Please what? I thought you wanted to come.” His voice was like ice.
“No,” Julian pleaded. “No. I don’t want it. I’m sorry, sir.”
“I see,” Garak said. The toy clicked off.
Julian sagged, relieved. “Thank you, sir.”
“Come here,” Garak said, patting the couch. Julian crawled up next to him, laying with his head on Garak’s thigh. The Cardassian picked up the PADD again.
Julian breathed slowly, evenly until the pressure of his erection pressing against his chastity device subsided. His testicles throbbed, but he was almost used to that. Almost.
Garak stroked his hair absently. Julian contented himself with the simple pleasure of the man’s touch. He dozed.
When Julian awoke, his cock was hard again. A dream. A stupid, frustrating dream in which Garak was rewarding his good behavior. The pain of his cock and the sore throbbing in his balls sank into his bones. His nerves felt raw. He glanced up at Garak, then away, tears in his eyes.
Not setting down the PADD, Garak began stroking his hip and ribs. Julian broke out in gooseflesh, both desperately wanting and desperately dreading the touch.
Garak’s fingers trailed over Julian’s belly, chest, neck. He slipped two fingers into Julian’s mouth, and Julian automatically began sucking his fingers out of desire as much as habit. Garak worked his fingers in a slow, obscene thrusting manner. Julian whimpered. Garak was pushing him, but he was determined to hold out.
Garak set down the PADD. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.
Shaking, Julian straddled him the way he knew Garak liked. His determination slipped. When Garak’s mouth closed around one nipple, Julian arched against him, tears streaming down his face. He gasped with pleasure and pain. Agony. Garak looked at him levelly, then switched to the other nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive nub.
Julian still might have withstood it if it had ended there.
Garak began to tug gently, mercilessly, on the piercing connecting the head of Julian’s cock to the cage. His body flashed white-hot. It was unbearable. He wanted to come. He wanted the pain to end. He wanted to do well. A moment of indecision stretched.
“Delavan!” he finally gasped. “Delavan,” he repeated desperately, but Garak was already slipping the key out of his pocket.
When Julian’s compressed erection slipped free of the cage, he braced himself for the rush of blood. His cock burned, and he clung to Garak, who kissed his neck and face over and over, caressing his shoulders and back comfortingly.
“You lasted so long,” Garak murmured. “You were so gorgeously perfect for me.”
Julian wept against Garak’s shoulder.
“It’s time for your reward,” Garak said reassuringly, kissing his ear.
Julian collapsed against Garak, who slowly removed the thick plug Julian had worn all evening. He cried with a mix of relief and emptiness. Julian let Garak lift his hips and lower his gaping hole over Garak’s prUt.
As he slipped over the slick warmth, fresh tears ran down his face. Garak wrapped a hand around Julian’s cock, then began to thrust into him.
Julian moaned, a long, full-voiced cry of need, after which he fell into small, panting gasps.
“Please,” he begged, blind with pleasure. “Please.”
“I’ve got you,” Garak murmured into his hair, and Julian keened.
“Please,” he whimpered. “Please. Fuck, please, Garak please! Please-plea-ohfuckplease-“
He sobbed as he came, a long shuddering orgasm that obliterated his vision and hearing. He was only aware of Garak stroking him through it, fucking him through it, until the wave retreated.
He awoke to Garak holding him close, belly to belly in their bed.
“Garak,” he croaked.
“I love you.”
Garak kissed his forehead. “I love you, too. What do you need?”
Julian shook his head, eyes drooping. He drifted back toward sleep, smiling. “Nothing.”
Chapter 29: Bukkake
Bukkake is the act of many people ejaculating onto a single person. Bonus kinks: humiliation, extreme masochism, autoassassinatophilia, futanari.
I think it goes without saying that this fantasy of Julian’s emerged post-Augment-reveal, but here I am, saying it anyway.
“You look nervous, my dear,” Elim Garak observed, eyes sweeping over Julian Bashir. “You’re not usually so shy.”
“I know.” Julian swallowed, looking uncomfortable. “It’s just- this one is probably more, um, revealing. Maybe a lot more.”
Garak smiled faintly. All the fantasies they shared were revealing. After years of secrets, that was the point. “We’re past all that, aren’t we?”
Julian nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled weakly. “I trust you.”
Garak wrapped his arms around the human, kissing his hair. He leaned back, meeting Julian’s eyes. “There’s nothing you want that could make me want you any less.”
Julian kissed him lightly, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you in a while.”
Garak grinned. “See you soon.”
Five minutes later, a room lit up in the holosuite. Garak was seated on a comfortable plush lounge chair, feet crossed at the ankles, sipping a glass of kanar.
Julian was in the center of the room, surrounded by several of his colleagues — Benjamin Sisko, Kira Nerys, Miles O’Brien, Worf, Jadzia Dax — as well as Quark, Keiko O’Brien, and Leeta. Garak’s attention was immediately piqued. Julian’s shared fantasies had never featured such a cast. Neither had his own, for that matter.
“You’ve made a mockery of the uniform,” Worf growled, stepping menacingly toward Julian.
“I’m disappointed in your failure of conscience,” Sisko said icily. “But you’ll have plenty of time to think about it in prison.”
“I trusted you! You’ve been lying to me all this time,” Miles said, face twisted in disgust.
“We let you play with our children! What kind of monster?” Keiko snarled.
“I never trusted him,” Kira scoffed, not even looking at Julian.
“I should have known.” Leeta shook her head. “There’s something so off about you.”
The insults went on and on. Garak watched Julian’s face turn red, watched him begin to shake.
Garak’s eyes went wide when Worf charged Julian, swinging at him. Julian reeled, clutching his jaw. Miles pounced, holding Julian’s arms while Sisko landed blows to Julian’s abdomen. Garak’s heart clenched, watching Julian wheezing and yelping in pain. He reminded himself about the holosuite safeties. He knew Julian hadn’t turned them off altogether, but he began to wonder if they’d been turned down too low.
Kira shouldered Sisko out of the way, then punched Julian across the jaw. Keiko slapped him, snapping his head sideways. Julian sagged, gasping for air, face bloodied. Miles let go of him, and he crumpled to the ground.
Jadzia began kicking him viciously, boot connecting with his ribs. Everyone but Worf joined in. Garak had to smirk. Even a holographic Worf had a convoluted sense of Klingon honor.
Miles backed away from the crowd to stand next to Worf. He rubbed a hand over his uniform trousers, elbowing Worf with his other arm. “It’s been a good while since I gave an Augment what he had coming. I’m hard as hell.”
“It is...arousing,” Worf conceded.
“Fuck yeah it is,” Kira agreed, kicking Julian. She grasped at her crotch, where Garak was intrigued to see the outline of a massive erection.
Murmurs of agreement went up around the room. Lusty eyes met, sharing predatory glances. Julian sobbed softly on the floor at their feet.
“Know what we used to do with Augments back in Killarney?” O’Brien asked, glancing around. When his question was met with interest, he dragged Julian to his knees.
Julian’s face was streaked with blood, and his left eye was swelling. His lip was split. His uniform trousers bulged with half an erection. Garak watched, reminding himself to breathe.
Miles unfastened his trousers, pulling out a huge erection. He began stroking it, hips facing Julian.
Kira sneered, pulling out her own enormous cock.
Quark opened his pants, and his giant dual-headed cock sprang free.
One by one, all eight of them pulled a massive, erect cock free of their clothing — two, in Worf’s case. They stroked themselves angrily, disdainfully, lustfully, violently. It varied, but they all looked at Julian like he disgusted them. Julian stared up at them, eyes pleading, his own cock straining inside his uniform.
As the sounds crescendoed, Julian closed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly. Garak took a deep breath, feeling a faint stir of arousal.
Leeta came first, shooting ropes of cum across the left side of Julian’s face and neck. Sisko splattered the back of his head, grunting. Kira and Miles came simultaneously, coating Julian’s cheeks and jaw. Jadzia painted his chest and throat. Worf came over his right shoulder with one cock and across his upper back and neck with the other. Quark’s sticky cum hit Julian’s mouth squarely, oozing from his lips. Keiko jerked herself onto Julian’s forehead, completing the masterpiece. She spit on him, then stepped back.
All eight of them vanished. The room vanished. Garak stood, unsure if the scene was truly over.
The human opened his eyes, looking up at Garak with trepidation. “I came in my pants,” Julian said simply.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Garak murmured, their standard line after one of these scenes. “I appreciate the trust you’ve shown me tonight.”
Julian reached for Garak, and the Cardassian stepped forward, helping him to his feet.
“Does it change anything?” Hazel eyes looked at Garak with hesitation.
“Not for ill,” Garak murmured, squeezing Julian’s hand reassuringly.
Julian relaxed finally, eyes shining at Garak. “Thank you for letting me share this with you.”
Garak had said the same words many times in the past year, but the gravity of them remained. His heart swelled in his chest, and he smiled. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Chapter 30: Punishment
Punishment in this case is spanking. It’s also fully consensual, asked for as part of a de-stressing Daddy Dom/little boy scene.
Julian Bashir sighed, frustrated, when his door chimed. He lay across his bed in the near-dark, light from his main room seeping in.
The door chimed again. He rolled over, facing the darkness.
He wasn’t surprised when he felt the bed shift under the weight of Elim Garak sitting behind him.
He didn’t answer. He thought he might say something unintentionally cruel. Worse, something intentionally cruel.
A sigh. “If you want to be alone, I respect that. But you ought to have told me before I waited for you at Quark’s.”
Guilt and resentment burned in Julian’s chest.
Garak inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. “Alright.” The bed shifted again as Garak stood.
“Wait,” Julian said through clenched teeth. He rolled over, looking up at Garak. “Sorry,” he said, wishing he didn’t sound so grudging to his own ears.
Garak raised a brow ridge, nodded. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“No, wait,” Julian said, almost whining. He gritted his teeth again, making a decision. “I was unkind to you. I’m no closer to a cure for the quickening after working on it for weeks, and I’m,” his voice broke, “I’m so fucking angry at myself. I- think I wanted someone else to be angry with me.” He curled in on himself. “And here you are, being understanding.”
Garak’s posture softened as he studied Julian. “Do you want to be alone?”
Julian’s cheeks burned with shame. “No,” he said quietly. “I- I want my daddy.”
Garak looked surprised for a split second. “You’re sure? Jules?”
“Yes, daddy,” Jules whispered, feeling very vulnerable. “Please.”
Garak returned to the bed and sat, looking at Jules closely. “You let me down tonight, Jules. You agreed to something and then didn’t do it. That might be okay if you had told me, but you didn’t.”
Jules blushed. “I’m sorry, daddy.”
“What should you have done when you changed your mind?”
“Told you I didn’t want to,” Jules mumbled.
“Yes.” Garak looked at him sternly. “What else did you do wrong tonight?”
Jules bit his lip, embarrassed. “I pretended I didn’t hear you come home.” Garak nodded. “And I was rude.”
“What do you think is fair? For what you’ve done wrong tonight.”
Jules trembled. “I don’t know.”
“I want you to remember this lesson. There are better ways to handle being upset than avoiding and ignoring people. Do you think it’s fair if I spank you?”
Jules shuddered, face red. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Alright,” Garak nodded. He patted his thighs. “Come here, Jules.”
Shaking, Jules crawled over Garak’s legs, settling on the bed with his hips positioned across his daddy’s lap.
Garak rubbed a hand lightly over the seat of Jules’s uniform pants. The human quivered with anticipation. He felt his daddy place the other hand comfortingly between his shoulder blades. His heart ached with love, shame, need.
Jules whined when his daddy pulled his uniform trousers down, exposing his buttocks. The first blow landed firmly, and he jumped under the sting. By the sixth, his bottom burned, and he could feel he was hard between his legs. By the eleventh, he was gasping, crying. His tears soaked into the blanket.
His daddy paused at fifteen. “Jules,” he said, running his hand over the red-hot skin. “Do you think fifteen is fair?”
Jules struggled to keep his tear-addled voice level. “It’s fair for how mean I was to you, daddy,” he said quietly. “But I did something else wrong that made me act mean. I don’t think it’s fair for that.”
“What would be fair?”
“If you- if you did 10 more, but really hard.”
“How much harder?”
“A lot more. Is that okay?”
His daddy’s voice was tender when he said, “Yes, my dear.”
Jules braced himself. He cried out when the next blow fell. Each of the next nine drew louder and more desperate screams from him, even as he buried his face in the mattress.
He was sobbing by the time his daddy reached the last spank. Garak pulled him close, lying down behind his boy, arms wrapped around him. Cool lips kissed his hair and neck, comforting, but Jules couldn’t stop crying.
Through the haze of tears, he heard his daddy’s voice. “Did I hurt you, baby?”
Jules shook his head. “No,” he choked out, still sobbing. “I- hurt- me.” He dissolved into tears again.
It felt like a long time later that his tears finally stopped. His head hurt from crying, and his eyes felt swollen. He turned, belly to belly with his daddy.
“I didn’t want to cry, but I needed to.”
“Sometimes that will be true,” Garak said softly. “It’s good you found a way.”
Jules’s heart swelled at the praise. He was hard between his legs again. “Can you kiss it better?” He blushed.
“I’d love to, my dear.” His daddy draped himself over Jules’s legs, then kissed the exposed skin of his buttocks.
Jules sighed as his daddy kissed all his sore skin. “It feels so good,” he said dreamily. “I’m so hard between my legs, daddy.”
“Do you want to stay hard, Jules?”
“No.” He thought. “Can I put it between your legs?”
“I’d love that.” Garak pushed his own pants down, pulling his boy on top of him.
Jules whimpered, rubbing himself between his daddy’s legs. It was so wet, so warm. He felt very safe. He started to cry again. “You feel so good, daddy.”
“You feel good to me, too, Jules,” Garak panted, kissing his tears.
Jules rubbed harder and faster, desperate. He sobbed, body tense, feeling the mess he was making between his daddy’s legs and loving that he was allowed to do it. Garak trembled, holding him close and pressing their hips together. Jules felt even more wet between them.
He went limp in his daddy’s arms, breathing hard.
“I love you, Jules.” Garak held him, so strong and protective.
Jules melted into him, feeling light and free in the tight embrace. “I love you, daddy.”
Twist! Garak didn’t top his little after the spanking. Please crucify me in the comments if you hated that ;)
Chapter 31: Foot worship
Julian has a canonical interest in feet. Bonus kinks: face-sitting, cum-eating.
Julian Bashir looked flushed when he stepped through the door of Elim Garak’s quarters.
Garak sat on his sofa, legs stretched in front of him as he read. He watched the human approach him, eyes feverish.
“Are you alright, Julian?”
Bashir knelt next to the sofa and began pulling off Garak’s slippers. Garak set down his PADD, intrigued.
“Someone came into the infirmary near the end of my shift,” he said, eyes fixed on Garak’s feet as he revealed them one at a time. “They cracked two metatarsals. They took their shoe off before I even had a chance to stop them.” He glanced up at Garak, eyes blazing. “They had such gorgeous feet. I can’t stop thinking about them.”
Garak raised a brow ridge, amused.
Julian stared at him pleadingly. “I want to taste your feet. Worship them. Rub my cock between your gorgeous arches. Cum on them.” A note of desperation slipped into his voice. “Please.”
Garak smirked. “My poor Julian,” he purred, voice teasing. “It must have been tough staying professional.”
Julian huffed impatiently. “Garak, please.”
Garak chuckled. “Go ahead, my dear.”
Julian hid his face in Garak’s feet, a sole pressed to each side. He inhaled deeply, then licked a thick line across each arch. He rubbed his face into the soft, wrinkly, microscaled skin, tongue out. Tracing a line up one foot from the arch, he closed his mouth around Garak’s big toe and the two adjacent, suckling at them lustfully.
Garak had little sexual interest in feet generally and none at all in his own, but he enjoyed the frenzied quality of Julian’s arousal when he asked for this type of play. That part was certainly very stimulating, even if the sensation itself wasn’t particularly erotic.
Garak watched Julian switch feet, watched him begin to breathe heavily as he licked and sucked. Sweat dotted Julian’s brow, and his lips were swollen. Garak felt Julian’s tongue between his toes, exploring ravenously.
Julian opened his pants, pulling his erection free. It bobbed as his wrapped both hands around Garak’s feet again, drowning himself between them.
“Fuck,” Julian murmured against the ball of Garak’s foot. “You have such beautiful fucking feet.” He looked up at Garak, breathing hard, pupils dilated, then opened the drawer in the end table next to the sofa. He pulled out a small bottle of lube, and Garak swallowed a grin. He’d initially objected when Julian had insisted they keep lube in multiple locations throughout each of their quarters, particularly since Garak produced so much of it naturally. Truthfully, though, it had been a godsend more than once.
Julian lubed the soles of Garak’s feet, then bent Garak’s knees and pressed them together. He grunted loudly when he pushed his cock into the narrow space between the Cardassian’s arches. Garak watched Julian’s face contort, watched him chase his pleasure with abandon, grunting and moaning wantonly. The human didn’t last long. Suddenly, he pulled Garak’s legs straight again to finish himself off across the tops of his feet.
Julian knelt, locking eyes with Garak as he ate his own cum. When he finished, he rested his chin on top of Garak’s feet.
“Thank you,” he said earnestly. He gazed up at Garak with adoring eyes.
Garak smiled. “You’re very welcome, my dear.”
Julian ran his hands up Garak’s legs, caressing his thighs. “I just had a really incredible orgasm. Can I return the favor?” He grinned, biting his lip. “Before that patient came in, I was going to ask you to sit on my face tonight.”
A shiver of arousal traveled up Garak’s spine. “I’m amenable to that idea,” he said archly.
Julian stood, holding a hand out. Garak grasped his hand, and Julian pulled him to his feet, kissing him deeply. Garak sighed, aroused by the taste of Julian’s cum on his tongue.
The human led Garak into the bedroom, then undressed him. When Garak was nude, Julian stripped off his own clothes and lay on his back on the bed.
Garak crawled on top of Julian, kissing him. A warm tongue stroked his own for a long, teasing moment. Breaking the kiss, Garak positioned himself so his ajan was just centimeters above Julian’s face.
Warm hands grasped his thighs, pulling Garak down against a hungry mouth. Julian slurped into the wetness between Garak’s legs, drawing gasps from the Cardassian. Garak began to moan immediately as Julian buried his tongue inside him, sucking the lips of his ajan into his mouth, groaning with his own pleasure.
Garak rocked his hips, sliding his quickly-swelling ajan back and forth over Julian’s face. The human’s vocalizations of pleasure vibrated through Garak, and he pressed harder, beginning to swivel his hips.
Julian released one of Garak’s thighs. Two fingers slipped inside him, and Garak gasped and whined as Julian teased his prUt into quick eversion. Julian captured Garak’s throbbing prUt between his lips, spreading his thighs and ajan wide, swallowing to the hilt.
Garak groaned, swiveling his hips. Julian’s teeth glanced off his irllun, and he cried out. He looked down in amazement, realizing how deep inside Julian’s throat he was. The human was pulling at his thighs, trying for even more. Garak slowed his movement, angling his hips more sharply with each swivel, carefully grazing the sensitive irllun ridge against Julian’s teeth.
He thought he might black out. Slowly, slowly, so slowly Garak rolled his hips, using Julian’s mouth and teeth and throat to bring himself to a shuddering, utterly electric, voice-shattering, life-changing orgasm. Garak screamed, euphoric, coming down Julian’s throat.
He lay next to Julian, panting, eyes closed, feeling the room spin around him. When he rolled to throw an arm and a leg around his lover, he felt that Julian was hard again. Slicking his hand in his own sloppy wet ajan, Garak began stroking Julian’s cock.
The human hummed appreciatively, then looked at Garak with laughing eyes. “We’re not going to get anything done tonight.”
Garak kissed his collarbone. “No, we’re not.”
Omg! 31 days and just under 30,000 words later, here we are! A full month of cute, sweet, sexy, nasty, alarming, and sometimes straight up gross. Thank you alllllllllll so goddamn much for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, being all-around angels.
If you're interested in more of my work, please consider reading (and subscribing to) my ongoing passion project, Subtext Becomes Text, a very smutty, canon-compliant-ish companion series to Deep Space 9. Also, check out Foundations, which I co-wrote with the very talented @zaan earlier this year.
I'm on tumblr (sometimes), where I make dumb original Garashir memes and repost/shitpost cutesy Garashir- and Trek-related content: @fuckehhgarashir