Take it Upon Myself - Whipping/Flogging
Dec. 22nd, 2011 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinkhcTitle: Take it Upon Myself
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Series: Hogan ‘verse (Sequence #2)
Characters/Pairing: John Sheppard/Teyla Emmagen
Orientation: Het
Word Count: 1,450
Rating: R
Notes: Dingo is playing, flitting about from place to place in this story. Formeekosan.
Prompt: HC Bingo Fill: "Whipping/Flogging"
Commander Koyla walked up and down the line of prisoners, yet another inspection by yet another Coalition toady. John rolled his eyes at the man’s arrogant posturing. When Koyla stopped in front of Radek, giving him an appraising look, John’s heart fell to his stomach. He knew that look; it was the look of a bully finding a victim. He dreaded the way this would likely play out. He’d been a POW before, he knew the routines.
“You! Is this what you call paying proper respect to your masters?” Koyla raised the whip in his hand and used the end to prod at Zelenka’s cheek when the Czech scientist looked away. Oh, damn it to hell, the man carried a whip around with him? This was bad.
“Ano, Commander, I mean no disrespect.” Radek stammered nervously, feeding right into Koyla’s need for dominance.
“You dare to address me directly? You were not given permission!” Koyla backhanded Radek across the cheek, sending the scientist to the muddy ground. “Ten lashes for impudence!”
Shit. Glancing over at the Athosian officers standing to one side of the lines of prisoners, John caught Boren Halling’s eye and thumped his chest with his thumb. Hopefully, Halling understood what John was trying to tell him.
“Commander, in keeping with our traditions, it is honorable to offer this prisoner’s officer of rank to bear the brunt of the punishment, should the officer wish to do so.” Halling called, his position being equal in rank to Koyla’s, he could get away with mildly insulting the man by reminding him of tradition in front of the prisoners. John knew Halling didn’t give a crap about form and tradition and was just making it up to help John out. He was a good guy, and a valuable ally to have here in Moltai Camp Thirty One. In other circumstances, John might have even called the Boren a friend.
Koyla turned red, fuming at the interruption. “Which of these jilsa is the officer of rank?”
Knowing that speaking would earn him an additional set of lashes, John merely stepped forward, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
“You will take the punishment?” Koyla demanded, sizing John up as he stalked up to him.
John nodded. He saw Halling suddenly duck out of the line. Hopefully he got to the Bileen in time, she was the only one who could intervene in this and keep him from tasting the lash. When Koyla smiled, an evil light coming into his dark eyes, John gave a mental sigh and accepted the fact that this was going to hurt. “Go to the wall there, jilsa.”
Radek looked at him gratefully as he walked past him on his way to the spot Koyla had picked. Great, he was going to be display for everyone. As he approached the wall, John tugged his homespun shirt over his head and tied the sleeves around his waist. He didn’t need bits and pieces of the barely clean fabric getting into the lash cuts. All he needed now was an infection. He’d be dead, should that happen. He feared Zelenka would have fared worse, which is why he volunteered. He needed Zelenka; Operation Hogan needed Zelenka. John was more expendable.
He braced his hands on the wall and spread his legs slightly, posing for the most stability, and screw what Koyla might want. He’d done this before. He had no intention of falling down and giving Koyla or the Coalition skanks with him the satisfaction.
“You will count. Can you count, jilsa?”
He nodded. Koyla was fishing for reason to hurt him more. John could take ten lashes, more than that would be stupidly serious, so he held his tongue and bit back his smart-assed response.
The commander didn’t waste any time, without any more warning than the ‘whir’ as the tip of the whip sliced the air, the first strike landed. “ONE!” John shouted clearly, not wanting to earn an extra stripe because Koyla conveniently ‘couldn’t hear’ him.
Quickly, without pause, the next four strikes landed, in the same general area of John’s back. He winced as the fifth one cut across and opened another slice in his skin. The whip might actually have a metal razor in it, from the way it felt. Koyla meant to bleed him.
“SIX!” It was getting harder for John to keep the volume as the lashes hit.
“Filthy jilsa!” Koyla was apparently growing frustrated that he wasn’t getting maximum satisfaction from John. The next two strikes landed in the same spots as previous cuts. John bucked and pressed up against the wall, panting for breath. His back was on fire; thankfully there were only two more to go.
Nine went astray, catching John across the ass and so harsh a strike that it cut him even through the double layer of shirt tied at his waist and his thin Moltai-issued sweatpants. He almost shrieked at that one, but bit his tongue. He did sidestep slightly, which was what Koyla was waiting for, a mis-step.
“I did not tell you to move, jilsa, five more!” There was satisfaction in Koyla’s decree.
Ten and eleven hurt like hell. John might have whimpered a little. Koyla was flaying his back open, quite likely deliberately.
“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” Bileen Emmagen’s voice cut through the air and John sagged against the wall with relief. Teyla was here. Teyla would see him safe, he trusted her that much, at least. “You dare to discipline my prisoners, Commander Koyla?”
“The jilsa…”
“I do not wish to hear your excuses. Collect the others that came here with you today and leave. Your inspection is at an end,” Teyla’s voice was honeyed steel, and one of the most beautiful things John had ever heard.
“My report…”
She wasn’t going to let Koyla talk. John smiled and cheered her on. “I care nothing for your report. You have conducted a disciplinary action within my walls without my permission. I take offense to this. Get out.”
“The Coalition…”
“Out! This Moltai is under my command. I have never, ever had an incident here. Your interference might well break my carefully constructed systems, Commander. Get out of my sight; you are not welcome within these walls. Tell your masters to send someone else to finish the inspection.”
There was muttering and a shuffling of boots as Koyla and his people left. “Prisoners will return to their luln. No exceptions. Wait there until your overseer directs otherwise. Halling, help me take Major Sheppard to my quarters. Jinto, go and fetch a healer.”
“John? Are you able to move?” Teyla asked quietly as she came to his side.
Slowly, he lowered his arms from where they had been braced on the wall. He pushed back a little and stumbled before Halling caught him carefully, bent to wrap one long arm around John’s waist as he draped John’s arm over one of his shoulders. “Hard to move,” John grit out between clenched teeth. The truce between them was new, their working relationship new. Sheppard was loathe to show weakness before his tentative Athosian allies, but he didn’t have any choice, he needed them now.
He passed out.
When John woke, he was on his stomach in Teyla’s tent, a place he had only been half a dozen times since coming to Moltai Camp Thirty One. His back was blessedly numb. Teyla was smoothing something over his wounds.
“You are awake. Good. The wounds were not as deep as I first feared when I saw all the blood. That drols Kolsa must have embedded a blade in the lash. This salve should help.”
“I think you’re right, he was getting his jollies today. He knew what he was doing, handling that whip.”
“One could not tell from the damages here, John.”
“He wanted to draw blood. He enjoyed what he did, Teyla. He probably jerked off all the way home.”
“While I do not understand your phrasing, I believe I understand your meaning. You are most likely correct. He is scum. He is what we are working to eradicate. Drink this, it will help with the pain and make you sleep.” She held a cup of warm liquid to his lips and he drank it down quickly. Tea, laced with something bitter.
“I only wish Halling had been faster.”
John chucked as she set the empty cup aside. “You saved me four lashes. He’d started going lower, I appreciate your timing.”
“Sleep. I will be here if you need more tea or if the salve begins to lose potency.” She ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.
“Thanks for everything, Teyla,” John said as he yawned and drifted off.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Series: Hogan ‘verse (Sequence #2)
Characters/Pairing: John Sheppard/Teyla Emmagen
Orientation: Het
Word Count: 1,450
Rating: R
Notes: Dingo is playing, flitting about from place to place in this story. For
meekosan.Prompt: HC Bingo Fill: "Whipping/Flogging"
Commander Koyla walked up and down the line of prisoners, yet another inspection by yet another Coalition toady. John rolled his eyes at the man’s arrogant posturing. When Koyla stopped in front of Radek, giving him an appraising look, John’s heart fell to his stomach. He knew that look; it was the look of a bully finding a victim. He dreaded the way this would likely play out. He’d been a POW before, he knew the routines.
“You! Is this what you call paying proper respect to your masters?” Koyla raised the whip in his hand and used the end to prod at Zelenka’s cheek when the Czech scientist looked away. Oh, damn it to hell, the man carried a whip around with him? This was bad.
“Ano, Commander, I mean no disrespect.” Radek stammered nervously, feeding right into Koyla’s need for dominance.
“You dare to address me directly? You were not given permission!” Koyla backhanded Radek across the cheek, sending the scientist to the muddy ground. “Ten lashes for impudence!”
Shit. Glancing over at the Athosian officers standing to one side of the lines of prisoners, John caught Boren Halling’s eye and thumped his chest with his thumb. Hopefully, Halling understood what John was trying to tell him.
“Commander, in keeping with our traditions, it is honorable to offer this prisoner’s officer of rank to bear the brunt of the punishment, should the officer wish to do so.” Halling called, his position being equal in rank to Koyla’s, he could get away with mildly insulting the man by reminding him of tradition in front of the prisoners. John knew Halling didn’t give a crap about form and tradition and was just making it up to help John out. He was a good guy, and a valuable ally to have here in Moltai Camp Thirty One. In other circumstances, John might have even called the Boren a friend.
Koyla turned red, fuming at the interruption. “Which of these jilsa is the officer of rank?”
Knowing that speaking would earn him an additional set of lashes, John merely stepped forward, keeping his eyes straight ahead.
“You will take the punishment?” Koyla demanded, sizing John up as he stalked up to him.
John nodded. He saw Halling suddenly duck out of the line. Hopefully he got to the Bileen in time, she was the only one who could intervene in this and keep him from tasting the lash. When Koyla smiled, an evil light coming into his dark eyes, John gave a mental sigh and accepted the fact that this was going to hurt. “Go to the wall there, jilsa.”
Radek looked at him gratefully as he walked past him on his way to the spot Koyla had picked. Great, he was going to be display for everyone. As he approached the wall, John tugged his homespun shirt over his head and tied the sleeves around his waist. He didn’t need bits and pieces of the barely clean fabric getting into the lash cuts. All he needed now was an infection. He’d be dead, should that happen. He feared Zelenka would have fared worse, which is why he volunteered. He needed Zelenka; Operation Hogan needed Zelenka. John was more expendable.
He braced his hands on the wall and spread his legs slightly, posing for the most stability, and screw what Koyla might want. He’d done this before. He had no intention of falling down and giving Koyla or the Coalition skanks with him the satisfaction.
“You will count. Can you count, jilsa?”
He nodded. Koyla was fishing for reason to hurt him more. John could take ten lashes, more than that would be stupidly serious, so he held his tongue and bit back his smart-assed response.
The commander didn’t waste any time, without any more warning than the ‘whir’ as the tip of the whip sliced the air, the first strike landed. “ONE!” John shouted clearly, not wanting to earn an extra stripe because Koyla conveniently ‘couldn’t hear’ him.
Quickly, without pause, the next four strikes landed, in the same general area of John’s back. He winced as the fifth one cut across and opened another slice in his skin. The whip might actually have a metal razor in it, from the way it felt. Koyla meant to bleed him.
“SIX!” It was getting harder for John to keep the volume as the lashes hit.
“Filthy jilsa!” Koyla was apparently growing frustrated that he wasn’t getting maximum satisfaction from John. The next two strikes landed in the same spots as previous cuts. John bucked and pressed up against the wall, panting for breath. His back was on fire; thankfully there were only two more to go.
Nine went astray, catching John across the ass and so harsh a strike that it cut him even through the double layer of shirt tied at his waist and his thin Moltai-issued sweatpants. He almost shrieked at that one, but bit his tongue. He did sidestep slightly, which was what Koyla was waiting for, a mis-step.
“I did not tell you to move, jilsa, five more!” There was satisfaction in Koyla’s decree.
Ten and eleven hurt like hell. John might have whimpered a little. Koyla was flaying his back open, quite likely deliberately.
“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” Bileen Emmagen’s voice cut through the air and John sagged against the wall with relief. Teyla was here. Teyla would see him safe, he trusted her that much, at least. “You dare to discipline my prisoners, Commander Koyla?”
“The jilsa…”
“I do not wish to hear your excuses. Collect the others that came here with you today and leave. Your inspection is at an end,” Teyla’s voice was honeyed steel, and one of the most beautiful things John had ever heard.
“My report…”
She wasn’t going to let Koyla talk. John smiled and cheered her on. “I care nothing for your report. You have conducted a disciplinary action within my walls without my permission. I take offense to this. Get out.”
“The Coalition…”
“Out! This Moltai is under my command. I have never, ever had an incident here. Your interference might well break my carefully constructed systems, Commander. Get out of my sight; you are not welcome within these walls. Tell your masters to send someone else to finish the inspection.”
There was muttering and a shuffling of boots as Koyla and his people left. “Prisoners will return to their luln. No exceptions. Wait there until your overseer directs otherwise. Halling, help me take Major Sheppard to my quarters. Jinto, go and fetch a healer.”
“John? Are you able to move?” Teyla asked quietly as she came to his side.
Slowly, he lowered his arms from where they had been braced on the wall. He pushed back a little and stumbled before Halling caught him carefully, bent to wrap one long arm around John’s waist as he draped John’s arm over one of his shoulders. “Hard to move,” John grit out between clenched teeth. The truce between them was new, their working relationship new. Sheppard was loathe to show weakness before his tentative Athosian allies, but he didn’t have any choice, he needed them now.
He passed out.
When John woke, he was on his stomach in Teyla’s tent, a place he had only been half a dozen times since coming to Moltai Camp Thirty One. His back was blessedly numb. Teyla was smoothing something over his wounds.
“You are awake. Good. The wounds were not as deep as I first feared when I saw all the blood. That drols Kolsa must have embedded a blade in the lash. This salve should help.”
“I think you’re right, he was getting his jollies today. He knew what he was doing, handling that whip.”
“One could not tell from the damages here, John.”
“He wanted to draw blood. He enjoyed what he did, Teyla. He probably jerked off all the way home.”
“While I do not understand your phrasing, I believe I understand your meaning. You are most likely correct. He is scum. He is what we are working to eradicate. Drink this, it will help with the pain and make you sleep.” She held a cup of warm liquid to his lips and he drank it down quickly. Tea, laced with something bitter.
“I only wish Halling had been faster.”
John chucked as she set the empty cup aside. “You saved me four lashes. He’d started going lower, I appreciate your timing.”
“Sleep. I will be here if you need more tea or if the salve begins to lose potency.” She ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.
“Thanks for everything, Teyla,” John said as he yawned and drifted off.