Kagaku Ninja-Tai Gatchaman Fan Fiction ❯ Twin Hearts ❯ Wanting, Needing, Coping, Praying For Love - Jason's POV ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

TWIN HEARTS

PART 2 - Wanting, Needing, Coping, Praying For Love

A "Battle of the Planets" Alternative Universe Fan Fiction.

Warnings: NC17 For Male-Male Sex, Semi-Graphic Descriptions of and References to Rape (NCS) and Torture. Please do NOT read on if descriptions of and references to rape disturb you, or if you are a survivor of sexual abuse. You've been warned, so please don't flame me for it. Contains Slash, (or Yaoi, and Shononai), (i.e. Boy-Boy or Male-Male love and sex), so be warned. Also, OOC, AU and NCC. (i.e. Very Out Of Character, Alternative Universe and Non Canon Characterisations, situations and events).

Note: The BOTP characters do NOT belong to me, they belong to Sandy Frank and Tatsunoko Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. No money/profit is being made from this fiction. It is purely for entertainment purposes only.

JASON'S POV

Have you ever loved someone so much it hurts? Yes? No?

Well I have, and last night sure hurt like hell.

We were doin okay, making out on the bed, gettin hot and heavy on the sheets. I was as hard as a rock, and he was probably harder. Things were goin okay...

It was after that when things went straight to hell.

My lover prepared me, then pushed himself in.

He pushed into me, and something tore, I felt the blood dribble and my scream choked off in my throat. Jesus Christ it hurt.

Suddenly it wasn't my lover on me anymore, it was an unknown Spectran soldier, pushing himself into me, tearing me, hurting me, ripping me apart.

I screamed again, tensing, clutching at the sheets.

Finally he pulled out, tearing me some more, then went to plunge in again.

Maybe he worked out something was wrong, because suddenly he was gone from inside of me, and moved away from my body.

I thought he spoke to me, but couldn't be sure.

Shivering, I curled up into a tight quivering ball, masses of pain welling up inside, sobbing, mentally begging them to stop in my mind, the nightmares swamping through and through me.

Then he was back, touching me, I flinched away from him.

He spoke to me, but I wasn't too sure, then something solidified in the mess.

Mark's voice...

"Jason, please let me examine you, I need to know that I've not hurt you. I need to know what's hurting you now. Please."

Taking a few moments to digest his words I then nodded my acceptance.

He unrolled me and laid me out on the bed, spreading my legs a little to gain access to my genitals and rectum. It was all I could do not to scream in pain and terror, only the thought that it was Mark, my lover, doing this, kept me quiet while he poked and prodded.

I felt him cleaning me up, applying salve, and then he turned me and began dressing me.

I relaxed against him as he gathered me up, then laid me down in the bed, pulling the sheets on over and around me, before piling on a couple of extra blankets.

Rolling into a foetal position, hugging my knees, I allowed Mark to stroke my hair and kiss my temple. Besides, it felt good, and I was soon relaxing under his gentle caresses.

Then I heard him rummaging around, and he spoke to me again.

"Jason? I'm going to give you a mild sedative now, it will help you sleep, okay?"

I made no response to him, but allowed him to take my arm. Finding a vein, he pushed the syringe home, then the contents, removing it, he rubbed the site for a bit, then kissed it, before gently putting my arm back under the covers.

Mark stretched out behind me and lay with one hand stroking the hair back from my forehead and the other gently down my arm. After a little while I dropped off to sleep underneath his tender caress.

Probably you're wondering what happened to me?

Well, it wasn't pretty, but just over six weeks previously during a mission, I'd been raped. Brutally, viciously, horrifically, physically assaulted, beaten and gang raped.

A nightmare that will stay with me for years to come, if not for the rest of my life.

It was a solo mission. I'm generally good at those. A simple base infiltration, grab the data and get the hell out, no problem. Right? Wrong! Dead Wrong!

I walked into a trap, like a fly into a spider's parlour, and was trapped in a web so tight I couldn't get out of it. My G-Force uniform and communicator was back at the base, and my black undercover garb simply wasn't gonna be any protection for me. I walked into the command centre of the base, and into a drugged dart or two. My lights were out in seconds.

When next I'd awoken, it was to discover myself lying naked in a large stark featureless cell. No idea how long I'd been out for. No bed, no windows, no facilities, only a large door in one wall, with a small window in it that emitted the only light into the room.

Course, I'd been in such a situation before, about two and a half years earlier.

I managed to drag myself to the wall and prop myself up against it, feeling weak and dizzy.

The door opened and Zoltar stepped in.

Now, a naked unarmed Condor is still pretty dangerous. I'm trained in more ways to kill a man barehanded than the average mercenary, or commando, and have more practice at doing so. Zoltar, a metre or so in front of me, was way too good a chance to pass up.

I launched myself at him, only to be shot in the stomach with a drugged dart. Now that was fun. I staggered down to my knees disoriented, and pulled the dart out. Blood welled and ran down my side. "What the fuck?" I asked, before collapsing back against the wall gasping, my limbs suddenly feeling like lead, the room spinning even worse around me.

Zoltar came up to me and lifted me up, by my neck mind you, the world span even more, a situation that didn't get any better when he moved a hand down to cup my genitals.

"So good to see you again little Condor." He breathed in my face, then changed his words when he felt me up. "Ahhh not so little Condor I see, impressive."

Well, you know, what can I say? Even Mark's noticed that fact. Of course, being felt up by Zoltar is icky, (even though I was starting to suspect this might be 'Mala' in her Zoltar guise, which was still repulsive, either way), and so I told him, when I spat in his face.

"Get your fucking hands off me freak!" Spit!

The bastard just smiled and made some comment about my 'spirit' and what fun that would be for his men to break. My blood ran cold in my veins, as he removed his hand from my crotch in order to wipe the spittle from his face.

Now, even then I wasn't really worried about rape. Yeah, I realise I should've been, but the war had been dragging on for 7 years already, and we'd been captured before, and felt up before, but never had we been actually raped. Not once. Even when there had been opportunities for them to do that, they hadn't.

About two and a half years ago, I was caught by Zoltar, and kept imprisoned for over six weeks, and not once during that time was I even so much as sexually molested.

The closest I came to it was during one of the tortures, they placed electrodes on my genitals and nipples, but none of it was to cause sexual arousal, all of it was about maximum pain inflicted on sensitive parts of the body. There were electrodes placed on the palms of my hands, the soles of my feet, my armpits, my temples, and a number of other sensitive areas of my body. The pain was horrific, God awful blinding fucking horrific, but I never thought of it as sexual.

So, no, rape never entered my mind, not at first... Zoltar was quick, however, to shatter my illusions. Gotta hand it to Zoltar, he has a gift for doing that.

He let me go and I slumped to the floor, with about enough energy to rub at my neck where he'd pinned me. He crouched down before me; reaching out a hand he stroked a finger down my face, I flinched away from him.

"I suppose you're thinking: 'Now I'm going to be beaten within an inch of my life, or tortured, or killed outright'?"

His voice was soft and silky in my ears, a change from his usual shrill speech. Maybe it was Mala?

"Of course, you're right and wrong. This time I have no interest in torturing you. After all, you withstood it so well last time, it would be a waste of time and resources to try that again. And yes, I am going to have you killed, just, not yet."

He paused long enough to grasp my chin in his hand, too hard for me to break away from him.

"Of course, I will have you killed, as mentioned, but I want you to suffer first."

Once again my blood ran to ice in my veins, and it was then I began to feel real fear spiking in my stomach.

Zoltar looked into my eyes and seemed to come to a decision.

"I'll offer you the same opportunity as last time Condor." He almost purred in my face.

"I'm still convinced that if I'd had someone like you by my side in this war from the beginning, it would be over by now. As it is, I'm surrounded by fools and idiots, you, however, are no fool, and certainly no idiot."

Now, why didn't I feel complimented by such high praise from my worst enemy?

"So... Join me Condor." He swept on. "Join me, and all this ends. No pain, no death, no humiliation. Say yes, and you can have all that you've ever dreamed of!"

Your head on a platter, perhaps, ran through my brain.

The guy was insane, never in a zillion years would I join him! The fucking bastard killed my parents, and others I've cared about in my life. I'd die before joining him. Endure anything. But never would I join him.

I laughed in his face.

"You have got to be kidding you purple freak! Nothing on earth, or any other planet, will convince me to join you. You're dreaming!"

My laughter was forced of course, but it sounded real enough to him to piss him off.

He let go of my chin and stood up.

"Have it your way then, Condor." Without warning, he lashed out with a foot and kicked me viciously in the side. I doubled up as pain exploded inside of me.

He then spoke to his men, words that turned my brain to mush and my stomach to water.

"He's all yours. You have three days before I leave this base to return to Spectra. I don't care what you do to him, nor how long you keep him alive, as long as he's dead before I leave, and, as long as while killing him, you cause maximum pain and suffering. I want him to suffer, I want him to be humiliated, I want him to beg for death."

Then, he turned and walked to the door, with a final look at me he said. "Have fun boys!" And walked out the door, closing it behind him with a final sounding clang.

Always, when I've been captured in the past, a little voice inside of me has told me that rescue was coming. Even when Zoltar held me for over six weeks of torture, I believed rescue was coming. Now, that night, the voice was stilled, instead another voice said, 'you're dead this time Jason.' I knew there was no way out of this one. This time there was going to be only one outcome, one that would involve lots of my blood being spilled.

With more energy than I actually had, I managed to push myself back up the wall, and inched towards a corner.

There were about a dozen men in the cell with me, luckily it was a largish cell, or it would've been cosy.

They advanced on me and I moved away until ensconced in that corner. There was no way they were taking 'me' down without a fight, or my name wasn't the Condor.

So, I fought them...

They rushed at me, and even weak as I was, I fought them off, killing several, seriously injuring others, adrenalin only keeping me going. It only made them more determined.

Eventually, however, there could only be one outcome.

Several slammed me against the wall, my head impacting hard, and that was it, for me the fight was over.

I slumped in their arms, semi-conscious, all power drained from my body, aching all over from the hits I'd taken.

Surprisingly, none of them had broken anything, just given me lots of aching bruising, and now, a concussion.

I soon realised why they'd minimised the damage to me for now, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it, to my complete horror.

They laid me down on the floor, a couple of men holding on to each arm, spreading them out, a few on to each leg, also spreading them out. Even dazed, I felt very vulnerable.

I think it was then that my mind realised what was about to happen, and I began to struggle. It was useless, I was too weak, and they had a strong hold on me.

They slapped me about the face and punched me in the gut a number of times in order to stop my struggling. Then they began.

Without going into exact details, for the next few days they 'played' with my body.

Which is about the best way I can describe it.

They 'played' with me for many hours, reducing me to a shuddering wreak. After that they shot me full of a blend of special Rigan hallucinogenic drugs. Got me so high I forgot my own name, let alone where I was, and had themselves a jolly old time.

The humiliation was paramount, the pain was horrific, the memories unbearable.

They weren't silent either. They taunted me, called me names: Little whore. Little slut. Slut Condor. Come for us slut Condor. What a good little Condor whore you are. Writhe for us Condor whore. What a sweet fuck toy you are Condor. Open your legs for us... Perform for us... And so on and so forth, on and on and oh God, on...

As if their actions weren't bad enough, the verbal abuse only made it far worse.

I think I'll be hearing their foul voices in my head until the day I die, and right then, I wanted to die immediately, I wished I'd died when they first captured me.

After the drugs took effect, and my body was like rubber under their hands, and they had me obeying them like a mindless automaton, they took turns raping me. Over and over again, man after man, session after horrific session, and the pain? Well it reached a frightening peak, so much so, that I lost consciousness more than once. Not that this stopped them of course. They continued regardless, having me conscious wasn't totally necessary for their 'needs'.

When the drugs wore off, they shot me up again, and then again. When they tired of that, they let the drugs wear off, and continued with me fully aware, but too injured to do more than struggle weakly against their repeated assaults.

By the time the three days to Zlotar's departure were nearly up, my body was seriously beginning to shut down. I shivered continuously with cold, thanks to the icy water they threw all over me, and on the floor of the cell, every now and then to 'clean me up' for further rounds of rape and games. I'd lost all control of my bladder and bowels. I couldn't keep any water down, (they'd left water for me to drink, no food at all, just water), as even a small mouthful left me retching pitifully. My nose bled constantly, there was a continual ringing sound in my ears and I ached all over from the constant beatings they'd been subjecting me to, broken bones madly protesting.

The final hours were in many ways the most painful. They left me drug free and started off with raping me and finished with brutally beating me up. By the time they'd finished many, many more bones were broken, including some ribs, at least one of which had compromised a lung, if the blood welling up within my mouth was anything to go by.

I should imagine that my internal and external injuries were beyond horrific.

Strangely enough, they didn't kill me outright. After beating me to a pulp they left me where they dropped me, in a bloody broken heap on the floor.

I think the only thing keeping me alive at that point was my Rigan/Spectran genes kicking in to keep my body functioning, cause I'm sure a full blooded Terran would've been long dead by that point.

A short time later, the purple bastard came to visit.

He crouched down in front of me. Ignoring the blood and muck his cloak was trailing in, he pointed a pistol at my head between my eyes.

"Beg me to kill you Condor, and I'll pull the trigger and end it for you now."

He had to be fucking kidding. Like I was going to ask him for any freaking favours. Besides, with a broken jaw and a mouthful of blood, I wasn't gonna be saying anything much.

I did, however, glare at him and spit my mouthful of blood at him. He wiped the blood off himself and then he smiled. Bastard!

"Good." He purred. "I was hoping you'd say that. Enjoy your death Condor." He mocked at me. "It's going to be long and painful and you'll soon be wishing I'd shot you."

With that he stood up and walked away, leaving the door open behind him, again mocking me, taunting me with an escape I couldn't take, as my body was too broken to do so.

I closed my eyes and prayed for death to take me.

Before I go on, I should explain a few facts to y'all. I'm not fully human, right! I'm part Terran, part Rigan, part Spectran, part Cyborg and part Bionic. What a mix hey?

Rigan's and Spectran's are highly psi-sensitive beings. Mark and I are no different.

I have an extra special gift though, in that I'm also an Empath.

I can heal people with my mind. I can feel their emotions, hear their thoughts, see into their hearts, listen to their souls...

It's a freaking pain in the arse half the time!

The ability didn't manifest itself until I was about 16, and after that I had to have special training from a Rigan Holy Man in how to manage my 'gift.'

I'm getting pretty good at it actually, managing it, that is. But I still have a long way to go when it comes to learning how to use it properly. I can't heal myself though, which is a bummer.

At least, I 'can' heal myself, but only partially, not fully. Most Rigan's 'can' initiate self-healing, and I certainly can too. It's called a 'healing trance' and it encourages the body's own natural immune system to speed up its normal healing process to super fast degrees.

Due to this, we heal far faster than the average Terran does, and faster than the average Rigan also, with our Cerebonic implants helping to further speed things up within our bodies.

Well, you know, Mark and I are bonded too. Now, bonding is a Rigan thing. It's like marriage to a Terran, only more physically binding than that.

Rigan bonding is an actual 'psychic link' to the person you love and wish to spend the rest of your life alongside. It's done in a special marriage style ceremony performed by a Rigan Holy Man; who unites together the souls of the intended. It is then finally sealed in fire by the act of physical love. (i.e. a really good roll and tumble in the sack!)

Mark asked me to bond with him about 4 months ago, and after a few days reflection I said yes. It meant spilling our secret, but it seemed everyone, including the chief, had already guessed it anyway.

So, we did it, and, I know it's a cliché, but God it was beautiful! He was beautiful!

The sex act with the bond in place was indescribably pleasurable, like nothing I'd ever felt before. It felt like kindred souls entwined in the stars. Everybody give a big sigh here!

Next, we returned to earth and completed the process by getting legally married in a registry office there.

Now we are legally attached to each other on two planets, and by Inter Galactic law, and I plan to stay that way until my breath leaves my body and beyond, if I can choose to be with him for all eternity.

When I first realised I was trapped, and going to be raped, I'd called out through the bond to Mark, but hadn't been able to reach him. Which was weird, considering we should be able to 'hear' each other even across the universe itself. The only thing I can think of was that unconsciously I was trying to protect Mark from sharing my pain and humiliation, and so was blocking him out. That's the only thing it could've been, I'm sure of it.

So, lying on the prison floor in horrific pain, slowly dying from shock and blood loss, I felt it when Mark entered the base, and his indecision about where I might be located.

With him so close, I called to him through our bond, and he came to me.

When he came through the door, he did something pretty stupid, crying out in great anguish, he rushed over to me, knelt before me, and lifted my broken body up in his arms, and so naturally I screamed, or tried to, as my mouth quickly filled up with blood.

Probably he thought I was either dead, or dying, (well I was in fact), otherwise I doubt he would have flown in the face of all the 'paramedic' rules we've been trained in, and picked me up, thereby risking further injury.

However, all that aside, when he did pick me up in his arms, I looked up into his eyes, my own so terribly glazed and blurred with horrific pain, the horror in my soul running so very deep, that I could hear my beloved screaming in agony within his own soul, as he was lost within my terrible pain and horror.

Somehow or another, Mark and Tiny managed to get me onto a stretcher and wrap me in a blanket, then picking me up they ran back to the Phoenix.

Back on board the Phoenix Mark and Princess hooked me up to IV lines and Blood transfusion lines, set my broken bones, and etc., and relieved the pressure on the lungs from my broken ribs. There were massive internal injuries, other than the obvious external ones, so Tiny raced me back to the base, and then they raced me into surgery and I knew nothing more for more than a week.

Apparently I hovered between life and death for nearly two weeks. They tell me Mark stood vigil at my bedside, refusing to leave, so in the end they allowed him to sleep in the other bed in the room to be near to me.

I'm glad. I couldn't have made it without him.

When I came out of my coma Mark was right there leaning over me, a smile of joy on his face. He leant in to kiss me, and I actually flinched away from his touch. What the hell was that? I love Mark! He would 'never' hurt me deliberately, so why the hell flinch when he kissed me? It didn't bode well for the future.

They kept me in hospital for five weeks recuperating.

Chief Anderson had a serious chat to me about the brutal raping I'd endured, and asked for a detailed report.

Shit! A fucking detailed report! Like I wanted to remember enough to write such a report.

In the end, Princess, my sweet Angel, came to me and admitted she'd worked out what had happened, and offered to help me write the report for the record.

I dictated, she wrote, she broke down, I broke down, and God it was so hard. But, in the end, we did it together, and passed it on to the Chief.

The Chief in turn passed a copy on to the therapist he'd chosen to help me deal with being brutally gang raped and beaten within a fraction of an inch of my life.

I now attend a weekly support group as well, with other rape victims, which is a huge help also, when it comes to coping. Although, it's hard to be anonymous when your face has been plastered all over the Galaxy by Spectra, but somehow we still managed that.

They might have let me go from the hospital earlier, but for several weeks they kept me on strict suicide watch as well. Guess I must have looked like I wanted my life to be over. Well yeah, I did, I still do, I think about it all the time, but there'll always be a part of me that shies away from suicide... Part of me that can't put Mark through that sort of hell...

About a week ago they discharged me from the hospital wing of the ISO, and into a private room in the private sleeping quarters of the premises. Near where we used to live when we were kids. Still reluctant to let me go home permanently at that stage.

Then, last night, I had the urge to go and stay with Mark, my husband and lover, and managed to convince the Chief to let me go. Just for one night, please. He let me!

Toting a small duffel bag, and dragging along an ISO driver, the chief let me be driven over to Mark's airfield, where we live together these days.

God I was so hot to see him. Waving the driver off, I managed to get inside using my one crutch, (one, cause one arm had been broken and was still healing). Well, both my legs were broken too, but I can get along on one crutch now.

I surprised the hell out of Mark who was just getting himself some dinner.

I literally fell into his arms and began kissing him all over his face, neck and whatever else I could reach.

God, he tasted so good to my lips and tongue!

I guess there was a part of me that needed to forget the rape, or to have it replaced with something more pleasurable. So to say I jumped my lover's bones would be an understatement.

I jumped him, I crawled all over him, I wanted to be inside of him, I wanted him inside of me. God, I could not get enough of him.

Pinning him to the bed, I literally begged him to take me, to fill me, to show me what it 'should' be like.

God, I needed him to fill me. Or, so I thought...

Well, the lovemaking was great! He took me to heights of ecstasy I'd forgotten I could reach, and well, the rest you know...

It didn't end well, and I ended up sedated under the blankets, wishing I was dead, but glad Mark was there to soothe me to sleep.

Shit! What a disastrous night!

Trying to sleep my sedated sleep I stirred and muttered curling into an even tighter ball, if that was at all possible. Within moments I felt Mark stroking my hair.

"Mark" I mumbled, turning to look at him with my sleepy eyes. "Hold me. Please hold me." My voice caught on the word. He crawled down into the bed under the blankets and curled himself around me. I turned and snuggled into him, my face pressed into his neck and shoulder, my arms hugging him close to me, needing to feel his comforting warmth.

Mark drew me even closer and rocked me gently until I began to fall asleep against his chest.

Mark crooned a little lullaby to me and I sighed with a contented rush.

"That's nice!" I murmured softly.

As I drifted off into sleep he held me to him fiercely.

He kissed the top of my head, and continued crooning while I drifted into sleep, our bodies curled around each other.

The next morning, I woke first, and revelled in how good it felt to have Mark holding me.

Then I remembered the night before and fear twisted its way through my body. I knew of only one way to try to get that particular fear under my control.

So I kissed him, first his neck, then his nose and then his mouth. My hot tongue slipped its way into his mouth and sinuously massaged his. Now he definitely was awake.

"Mmmph... Jason, what are you doing?" He mumbled around my hotly seeking kisses.

Quirking an incredulous eyebrow at him, I replied: "What does it look like?"

I breathed into his ear, then slipped my tongue into it. He jerked a little, shivering in pleasure.

My hand slipped up his thigh to cup him through his sweat pants, and stroked him erotically.

"Gods Jason!" He gasped as he surged up into my hand.

"Are you sure you're up to this... After?" He searched my eyes anxiously, but hopefully saw only need and desire within them. At least, that's all I hope he saw, not the terrible fear that was there also, masked behind my need to bury my pain in pleasuring him.

"Yeah." I murmured and captured his mouth in another long kiss, one hand moving to massage a nipple, the other moving to slip inside his sweat pants to grasp him.

"My, my." I murmured. "We're hot today." He growled at me inarticulately.

As quickly and smoothly as possible I pulled the bed clothing off us and tossed it onto the floor, then with extreme speed divested us both of our clothing as well.

For a moment I knelt next to him, drinking in his nakedness, thinking about how good it would be to love him, and how much I needed to forget, somehow.

Then I asked him.

"Let me love you Mark?" I could hear the unsteady tremble in my voice.

He looked at me curiously. "You want to caress my body, but you don't want me to do it back to you? Is that correct?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Can I?" He hesitated for a long moment.

Then...

"Okay, but..." He hesitated again, and the hesitation worried me, I frowned. Then he said: "Yes! But, only if that is what you really want and need Jason, please don't hurt yourself in the process."

I bent over him and took a nipple in my mouth, after a moment of sucking at it, I murmured. "It's what I want." Then went back to laving him with my hot tongue.

I could tell that it took all the self-control he possessed not to grab me and pin me to the bed, but he must have managed to over come the urge. Thank God!

My mouth and hands caressed his upper body, sending shockwaves of ecstasy straight down to both our groins.

Then I kissed hot wet kisses down his torso, and softly gentle kisses around his testicles, taking first one and then the other, in my mouth and sucking it. My mouth moved to his shaft and I licked up underneath the underside of it to the tip and circled my tongue around the slit before taking him fully into my mouth, my hands massaging and kneading him as I moved.

By this time Mark was surging up into my mouth, his pressure building. Then he was coming, his hot seed spilling into my mouth, arching up into me as I milked him dry.

As we lay panting on the bed I kissed my way back up to his mouth, then took it in a deep kiss, the taste of him salty on our lips.

God, it felt great! So, so great!

Then, with sudden need, I knew I needed more from my lover. So after lubricating my fingers, while Mark lay gently panting beneath me, eyes closed in relaxed bliss, I moved a hand up and around his buttocks and pushed a finger inside of him, raking it across his prostate. He'd taught me how to do that himself, during our previous months together.

His eyes flew open and he screamed and arched his back. "Christ Jason, what are you...?"

I chuckled. "Just relax, love." I whispered in his ear, twisting the finger around and around.

"Oh God." He groaned, pushing himself onto me as I added another finger in with the first.

With slow sensual movements I scissored and twirled the fingers inside of him, brushing constantly across his prostate, reducing him to a sensitive mass of writhing pleasure. I could feel him growing hard again under my deliberately sensual ministrations.

As my fingers moved within him, my mouth moved on top of him, finally taking his length into it once again. I could feel him hardening as I suckled. Then I added a third finger, and he writhed and bucked against me.

"Oh God, Jason." He groaned again, head thrown back, eyes closed, neck arched invitingly.

Finally I reached across him to the bedside table for the tube of lube. Removing my fingers I kissed away his disappointed groan. Lavishly, I coated myself with the lube, feeling how hot and heavy and hard I was, and God, how achingly ready.

He surged in response, groaning as he watched me lave the lube on to myself.

Then I coated my fingers with the lube and pushed them back inside of him until he was slick and wet with gel, until he was pushing himself onto them erotically, moaning.

Removing my fingers and propping his ankles over my shoulders, I replaced them with the tip of my shaft, the hard bluntness pushing into him.

But then I hesitated for a long moment, worried about hurting him, worried that I was forcing him.

He began to look impatient. "Christ Jason, what are you waiting for?" He asked, pushing against me.

"Nothing obviously." I breathed, then pushed myself inside of him in a long slow driving motion, which left us gasping, the breath driving in and out of our bodies.

Even though I'd never gone this far with Mark before, I'd slept with enough women in the past to have some idea of what went where, and figured it can't have been all that much different. i.e. Get us ready with the foreplay, use lubrication, thrust gently and firmly inwards, bring intense pleasure to my partner and satisfaction to myself.

Soon we were moving together in perfect rhythm, our bodies pushing against each other, as if we'd always been this close, in this much heavenly joined union.

Mark reached for his aching shaft, but I was way ahead of him.

Taking him in my hands I pumped him in time with our strokes. He arched his head back into the pillows, closed his eyes, and moaned with the ecstasy of my strokes and thrusts.

I leant forward and laved his nipples and kissed his neck, then finally took his mouth, one of my hands still pumping him, the other massaging a nipple.

In all too short a length of time we were coming together, screaming into each other's throats. I surged against him a few more times, before collapsing on top of him, spent.

Mark wrapped his legs around me, momentarily keeping me inside of him.

"God, that was incredible." He gasped in my ear.

"Yeah, incredible!" I mumbled, nibbling at his shoulder, his perspiration salty on my tongue.

With one last push against him I pulled out with a groaning sigh, sitting up on my heels.

Mark looked at me anxiously, concerned that he had hurt me, doing what we'd done.

"Are you okay?" His eyes raked over my genitals, obviously looking for damage.

"Yeah! Fine, Mark." I growled. "Look, I'm obviously not ready for you to do this to me, but, if I can do this to you, and still enjoy it, why argue over it, right?"

He shrugged in resignation. "Okay, Jase. As long as you're sure."

I kissed him again. "I'm sure, love. Stop worrying." What could he say to that, really?

I murmured something about taking a shower and disappeared into the bathroom.

In the bathroom I turned on the shower and allowed the warmth of the water to wash over me. Then, I began to feel the pain. Pain I'd obviously been pushing into the background. My genitals hurt. They were swollen and hot, and felt heavy. My rectum hurt where Mark had ripped it the evening before, opening some old wounds.

My legs turned to jelly, and I fell down onto my knees, jarring them and sending shockwaves of pain up my legs to my hips. Christ it hurt like fucking hell. I swallowed a scream.

Then, Oh God, and then I was hit with a major flashback. Suddenly, all I could feel were the tongues, hands, fingers and cocks of the soldiers on my body, feeling me all over, touching me, caressing me, penetrating me, forcing me to ejaculate against my will.

All I could hear were their taunts: Spread your legs for us, Condor Slut. God, he's a tight piece of Virgin arse. Save some for me then. There's plenty of this sweet arse to go around. Spread your legs for us Condor whore. Suck us off Condor slut. Get on your knees arse in the air, Condor whore. Thrust up into us Condor. God, what a sweet virgin arse you have. Look, he's enjoying it, look at him come.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh my God their taunts echoed and re-echoed in my head.

The horrible thing is, when they had me shot up full of that Rigan hallucinogenic drug mix, I was so out of it, I didn't know where I was, who I was with, or who 'I' was even. Confused and disoriented, I did spread my legs for them, I did suck them off, I did do what they demanded of me in general, while drugged. I vaguely remember it. It's hazy, but I remember not knowing where I was, or really even who I was. I vaguely remember having no feeling of control, just feeling the drugs, the haze of drugs, and the pain, the horrific never ending pain, and the need for it to be over. The desire to do anything for it to be over, including whatever they told me to do... I even begged them to kill me...

Of course, when the drugs finally wore off, I stopped cooperating, and went back to fighting back, weakly and uselessly, helpless while they crushed my body and soul.

Oh God! Oh God! I needed to end the pain. But, would that mean I was letting Spectra win if I ended it with suicide? Shit! Who the fuck cared! I was beyond caring at that point, right there in mid flashback, humiliation, shame and pain swamping over me.

Crawling up to my feet somehow, I made it over to the medicine cabinet and pulled out one of Mark's razor blades. Taking it back to the shower, I slumped to my knees in the water and pressed the blade into my wrist.

Oh God, I just wanted it to end, I needed it to end. I could see the purple snaking vein up the inside of my arm, and knew that all I had to do was slice up the vein to be dead in minutes. So, I pressed the edge of the blade into my flesh and felt it cutting in. Drawing it up a little way, (maybe only a quarter of an inch), I stopped, and froze.

Christ, I couldn't do it. All I could see was Mark's horrified face when he opened the door and found me dead on the floor, my blood washing down the drain. I loved him too much to do that to him, so I dropped the blade and curled up into a ball, my head on my knees, sobbing and crying with the pain and fear of the God-awful flashbacks.

The physical and emotional pain was horrific. All I could do was rock myself, and sob with it. The images taunted me, the voices mocked me until I whimpered in terror, and reached again for the blade, only to wrap my arms around my legs and hold on tight for dear life, grasping for my lost control, grasping for a reality that was creeping away.

There was a sound outside the door, I whimpered in shock and wrapped myself up more tightly still.

"Hey, lover boy, are you still alive in there?" Marks voice called to me, sounding cheerful.

Oh God, but I wanted so much to call out to him, but I was trapped within my nightmare of horrors. He must have waited for a bit, then knocked.

"Jason? Breakfast is ready..."

Still I couldn't respond to him, still I was trapped in my nightmare world.

Surely, surely he would come in to me, if I couldn't come out to him?

After a little bit he knocked on the door again and called out to me. "Jason?" This time there was a definite note of panic in his voice.

I whimpered at the sound of the door opening and cried into my knees where I was sitting huddled in the bottom of the shower, arms wrapped around my legs, shivering and rocking myself, head buried in my knees, small keening noises coming from my mouth.

I wasn't there, not really, I was back in that prison, crouching shivering in the pooling icy water after the soldiers 'washed' me down, waiting, waiting, waiting for them to come back to continue abusing my body, continue steeling my soul, continue shattering my heart.

Blood trickled and dripped from one arm to land in the swirling water underneath me, from the slight cut on my wrist, curling away from me, disappearing down the drain.

Within seconds, Mark was down on his knees in front of me, grasping my shoulders painfully, in moments soaked through to the skin by the warm pounding water. With an exclamation of annoyance he swivelled around and tuned it off.

In the sudden quiet my sobbing whimpers sounded loud in the room. I was still lost in the nightmare at that point. With a slosh of water, Mark was back by my side, and prising my right arm away from my body, the blood welled and dripped from it as he grasped it.

He compressed the wound with his fingers, trying to get the bleeding to stop.

"Jesus, what were you thinking Jason?" He growled as he pressed his thumb into the cut, looking around for the source of the damage as he did so.

With great ease he found the razor blade nearby on the shower floor.

He shuddered and I could feel the anger take over from his shock. He painfully grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard.

"What the fuck were you doing?" He hissed at me, shaking me hard until I looked up at him, my eyes dilated with fear, tears streaming down my face.

I cringed back from him with a cry, terrified of the anger I felt coming from him, and washing over me. Terrified he would see what a defiled waste of time I was and leave me.

But, I snapped out of it enough to talk to him at least.

"I just, I just w-wanted the p-pain to stop, M-Mark." I finally gasped out. "But I... But I c-couldn't do, do it in the, the end... God! I'm so fucked up!"

I pulled away from him and tried to scramble up, only to slip and fall heavily on my knees. A groan of pain escaped my lips as my still healing legs again jarred under me.

I could feel Mark reach out to me, both physically and psychically, and find that I was in great depths of emotional and physical pain.

"When was the last time you took your pain medication, Jason?" He asked me.

I looked at him in a bemused way for a moment, "I... I... d-don' t re-remember." I managed, through my gasping breathing and tears, and really, I didn't remember, which probably meant I was long, long overdue for a dose.

With a frustrated sigh he helped me to my feet and bodily lifted me out of the shower and over to a relatively dry mat on the floor. "Can you stand?" He asked roughly.

I shivered in his hands at the angry ice in his voice, and nodded. I also wondered when he'd get around to telling me it was over, and have me shipped back to the ISO.

He leant away from me and grabbed a towel, and then with quick efficiency towelled me off. He then disinfected and dressed the small wound. Taking a comb, he swept it through my towel-dried hair.

All the while I leant against him, silent tears streaking my face, fear spiking in me as I wondered if this would be the last time we were intimate together.

Reaching up into the cupboard he pulled out a vial and a syringe, and drew the liquefied version of my pain medication into it. Taking my arm he found a vein and pushed the sharp tip in, injecting the fluid, rubbing the site afterwards.

There was a clean clinical efficiency in his actions, no tender love. I couldn't stop my trembling fear at that.

All I could feel in his body was tension and anger, and Oh God; I did not want him to be angry with me. What if he left me? I couldn't live with that, I needed him! I began to shudder, even more hot tears streaking down my face.

That's when he took me in his arms and spoke to me softly.

"Shhh baby, it's alright, I'm not mad at you. I'm only mad at what's been done to you."

At first I didn't believe him, but then I felt the anger draining away from him, and so began to feel safe enough to relax. I buried my head in his damp neck and shoulder, eyes dripping further wetness onto his skin as I cried.

He lowered me gently on to the closed toilet seat.

"Just need to get out of my wet clothes, Jase, then we can get dressed."

I slumped on the seat and closed my eyes, concentrating on calming down and on soothing away the fear and the pain.

Oh God, how I hoped he still loved me after all this nightmare of horror. But how could he, after all that I'd been through, and all that I'd done? I just felt dirty and used now, when he deserved someone more, more... undefiled... unashamed... unused...

Dried off, and our hair combed, Mark managed to get us both back into the bedroom, where he sat me down on the bed while he rummaged for some clothing for us. Digging out clean undies, sweat pants, t-shirts, and warm woolly socks, he managed to get us both dressed.

He then joined me on the bed, where I sat listlessly staring at the floor wondering if he still loved me, and how he could possibly still want me after all this.

Taking my hand he caressed it gently. "Would you like to clue me in on what happened here this morning Jase?" He pressed me softly for answers.

With a shiver I began talking, looking down at our clasped hands.

"This morning, after what happened last night, I just wanted to erase the pain. I hoped making love to you would help. If I could only feel pleasure and desire for you, you know? So I jumped you, sort of."

I paused and he waited patiently for me to continue.

"And, y'know, it was nice, it felt great actually. It hurt some, yeah, around the scarring, but it felt great, and for a moment I forgot it all. Everything! All the pain, all the horror, all the loss..."

I trailed off for a bit, a small smile quirking my lips at the memories, just for a second.

"Then it happened. A flash back so intense it left me gasping. Suddenly, all I could feel was their hands, lips, tongue's, cocks, and God knows what else, all over me, touching me, caressing me, penetrating, stroking, making me ejaculate. Oh God! It was awful!"

I began to shudder, so he put his arms around me and held me close, stroking my back with gentle circular motions. I melted into him and he held me for a long time while I gathered my thoughts and emotions together.

When I continued it was in a small voice I knew he would have to strain to hear clearly.

"Desperate, I managed to hoist myself back to my feet, and over to the cabinet, where I grabbed the razor blade. All I wanted right then was for the images, and the pain to stop. I went back to the shower and knelt under the spray, and pressed the blade into my skin. When it cut in and the blood welled up and out, I suddenly felt myself snap back into focus. I dropped the blade and then curled up on myself instead and cried, but the images kept coming and coming at me, smothering me with their reality and intensity."

"You found me a short while after that. I just couldn't do it in the end. I wanted to, God knows, I still do, but to take that final step? All I could see were your sad eyes when you found me dead, and I couldn't do it. I can't leave you with that pain to bear! I just can't!"

I choked off, and buried myself into his chest, my shoulders shaking.

Then, Mark did something that took me by surprise. Using his Rigan psi powers he drew the pain out of me with a gentle kiss to the top of my head, and a brush of his fingers down my face.

"That feels good, Mark." I murmured into his chest. "Thank You!"

Within minutes I was practically purring. "Mmmm... Mark, can you take the pain and memories permanently?" I almost pleaded with him my arms tightening around him.

He shook his head. "You know I can't do that Jason, and even if I could, I wouldn't, it's too dangerous. Taking your memories could erase other parts of you as well, parts that need to be there. What if you forgot who you were, or, how you felt about me, or, or, anything else, or, something else really vital to you? It's not worth the risk sweetheart."

I heaved a gusting sigh, and if possible relaxed even further into his embrace.

"Yeah, good point!" I whispered. "Just take them for a little while then, okay, let me sleep without nightmares and medication for a change. Okay?"

He kissed me on the head again. "No problem." He murmured and proceeded to do just that.

Within a few more minutes I was fast asleep in his arms.

*

I've no idea how long I slept for; it had to have been more than eight hours, dreamlessly.

When I woke and stretched luxuriously and reached for my husband, he wasn't there.

So I patted the bed clothing, still not there. I looked under the bed, humph, not there either.

I looked in the closet... Me, getting paranoid, naaahhh... Shit, not there either.

Now I was starting to get worried.

I looked outside for his plane, not there...

Huh??? Shit!!!

I looked again, yep, definitely gone.

That's one very dead G-Force Commander when he returns to his very pissed off hubby.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt I looked for a note.

I looked on the Kitchen table, on the Coffee table in the lounge, on the Kitchen bench, on the Fridge, on the bed, in the bathroom, on the bathroom mirror. I even hobbled out to the sheds to look in the hangers. I even looked in my freaking plane, and in Mark's car.

Nope. Nada. No notes anywhere to be found.

Yep, one very dead Commander!

I tuned into our bond.

It was down.

Not good!

There was only one thing left to do, telephone Chief Anderson and demand the whereabouts of one truant husband.

The phone call went something like this:

"Hey Chief, it's Jason... .... ... Yeah, I've been better... ... ... ... Well, I had a fucking bad night... ... ... ... Oh, Sorry... Yeah, didn't mean to swear... ... ... ... Yeah, I do need something... ... .... .... My hubby! ... ... ... ... ... ... Well, he's not here and his plane is gone... ... ... ... ... ... ... Oh come on Chief, I'm sure you know where he is... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Now chief, you know you can't lie to me, I can tell... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... No, of course I wont read your thoughts without warning you first give me a break... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Hmmm... ... ... Okay Chief, I'm gonna read your thoughts now... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Well, don't yell at me, I said I'd warn you first... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Aw come on Chief, cut me some slack here... ... ... ... He's gone to the base hasn't he? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .... Damn it Chief, he could get himself killed... ... ... ... ... ... ... Shit, of course I know he knows the risks, just like I did, but how am I gonna live with it if he's killed chasing vengeance? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... What the hell do ya mean it's not vengeance, of course it is, what the fuck else is it? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Yeah, yeah, sorry about the language, yada, yada, but Jesus, it's so frustrating... ... ... ... ... ... ... I'm just scared Chief, shit scared.... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... What of? Well, of Mark getting killed, or raped, or both, what else? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Don't tell me that's not gonna happen, it freaking well might and you know it... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Christ Chief, it happened to me at that base, what makes you so sure it wont happen to Mark also there? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Your intelligence tells you Zoltar's not there at the moment? Shit Chief, does that make a difference? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Are you... Are you telling me that Zoltar set a freaking trap for me seven weeks ago? That somehow he knew I was coming? Don't tell me that Chief... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... What do you mean the Red Rangers found some evidence of a leak? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Why the hell wasn't I told before? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Why the hell didn't you know before I went on the mission? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Okay, I accept that it's probable they found out 'after' I was captured... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... But that leaves Mark still up the creek... ... ... ... ... ... ... Oh, you have the Galactic forces backing him up!? ... ... ... ... ... ... They'll go in if he doesn't come out on time... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... W-why didn't 'I' h-have the... the G-Galactic Forces backing m-me up? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Yeah, I guess the fact that I was the only one who knew the base's exact location didn't help... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Well, shit Chief, yeah okay, so I screwed up and overlooked calling in the location to you 'before' I infiltrated it. Hell, maybe we just shouldn't allow that sort of solo operation in the future for G-force? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Anyway... All that aside... Can ya please phone and tell me when Mark is out of the base safely? ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Nah... I don't need Princess to come over; I can cope on my own until he gets back... .... ... ... ... ... But, shit Chief, please send her right on over if he gets injured, or caught, or worse, cause I'll need her then... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... Okay, Ciao Chief!" Click...

Shit!!! Fucking Shit!!!

So, off I hobbled back to the couch, curled up on it and waited for Lover Boy to come home.

While I waited I thought about how we ended up together in the first place...

Ya know, I'm not Gay actually, Bi maybe... I love women, really love them...

Love the silky feel of them. Love the way they moan when I pleasure them. Love making them orgasm, driving them to the heights of ecstasy, feeling their silky folds around my cock. Ohhh Yeah! Yep, I know just how to touch a woman, and where, to have her screaming. I Love the smell of them, the taste of them, everything about them... mmmmmm hmmmmm...

But, when I fell in love, truly, deeply, honestly, it was with a man, in the end, not a woman. And that one man, the only one I've ever loved, and will ever love, well, that's Mark! There's never truly been anyone else.

Princess tells me that sometimes the heart makes no distinction between the sexes and I guess in this case she was right.

I started getting feelings for Mark about two and a half years ago after they rescued me from Spectra's little house of horrors.

We'd been on a mission and I somehow managed to get trapped in the base, falling through a hidden trap door and then a secure cell. My communicator was shot off my wrist, shattering the bone, which was a great way to start.

Consciousness had fled from me seconds later.

When I came too I was naked. Naked as the day I was born. Only that time my cell had a bed in it, a toilet, a sink and a shower. It had stonewalls on two sides and bars on the other two. One of my wrists, the unbroken one, and both ankles were chained to the wall near the bed. I could move as far as the toilet, sink or the shower, but no further, and the locks were useless without my tools, besides my shattered wrist was useless, as was that entire arm.

The purple freak was there and he clued me in on the coming routine. Tell him what he needed and wanted to know, and he'd let me go.

Simple!

No, not simple when you have the Condor in your hands.

I suggested he fuck off and further suggested he had the wrong G-Forcer if he thought I'd talk that easily.

That's when he made a mistake. He tried administering a truth drug to me, bad, bad mistake. I can't tolerate any of those designer drugs in my system, partly due to my mixed genes, (shit I can't even take a Paracetamol, or Ibuprofen, or Aspirin tablet without ending up in a Coma), and partly due to my resistance training.

He motioned to the soldier next to me, who poked a gun through the bars. I backed against the wall and closed my eyes, expecting to be shot dead. Well I was shot, but not dead, at least it didn't kill me at that precise moment.

The dart took me in the shoulder, I pulled it out and fuzzily watched the blood slide down my chest, and then I went into convulsions.

Man I was one sick puppy, lying on the bunk, foaming at the mouth, jerking and twisting, urinating all over everything... Christ it was awful...

Guess Zoltar must have had a medic on hand, cause the next thing I knew someone was holding me down, something was pressed in my mouth to stop me swallowing my tongue, and a sedative my body could actually tolerate was administered.

They dragged me out of the cell and into an infirmary and proceeded to stabilise me and then run a barrage of tests to discover why and how I had reacted so badly to their wonder drug. Imagine their shock when they worked out my crazy genetic heritage.

So, they worked out my bizarre gene mix and Zoltar came up with a drug he believed would work this time. Strapping me to a leather couch he had the drug administered.

Low and behold same result, only, it almost killed me the second time around.

He didn't try drugs again...

But shit, that still left the old fashioned approach...

Pain!!! Lots and lots of pain...

There followed over six weeks of torture. He became almost inventive with what he tried on me, the more painful the better. I wont go into them all. They included such things as electrodes torture, whippings, beatings, humiliations, solitary confinement without food or water or sleep, sleep deprivation, questioning under bright flashing lights with loud continuous sound and sleep deprivation, water tortures, shit you name it, he freaking tried it and then some.

By the fourth week, my body was beginning to shut itself down big time. I'd stopped being able to stomach food after the end of the third week, and water became impossible after the end of the fourth week. He had me on an IV drip in the end just to keep me alive, so that he could continue torturing me. He'd even given me blood transfusions when some of the tortures had deprived me of too much of my blood.

Ya know, I've no idea how I survived at all... Zoltar would have kept going at it until my heart stopped beating and couldn't be started again, except the Red Ranger's found my location, and the team came and rescued me, more dead then alive, but still they got me out and back to medical attention.

When they arrived they sadly discovered that Zoltar, (who had somehow got wind the team was on their way), had broken almost every bone in my body, and crushed some others.

The bastard is an out and out sadist. I'd worked out somewhere along the line over the six weeks, that information wasn't what he was after so much as the high of watching me suffer, again and again and again. I think the purple son-of-a-bitch freaking got off on it.

In the end, Zoltar had literally had me chained down on the stone floor, arms and legs spread wide, while he bashed at my body with a large heavy metal bat. Lovely. It was especially awful being semi-conscious for that final torment as he crushed my bones.

As a result, my internal and external injuries were quite horrific and the fact I survived can only be put down to a miracle, or my stubborn Alien genes, cause I certainly should have died.

They managed to get me home alive, or to be more exact, barely alive, and then with a combination of Earth and Alien technologies, managed to restructure my body. I now have a mixture of Cybernetics and Bionics in my body, replacing things too damaged by my torture's to be saved. I also endured months of re-gen treatments, Rigan healing treatments, and bone regrowth... All really nasty stuff... Not recommended!

Just over a year stood down from the team rebuilding me and getting me used to my new improved body, and I was back up to full strength again. In fact I was probably better than before, physically, at least.

Psychologically? Well... Now... That was another thing entirely...

For the year I convalesced and strengthened my body, Mark was my best friend and almost constant companion. Our relationship as friends was better than it ever was before.

Mark and I have always made an excellent command team. I make up for the impulsiveness and intuitiveness he lacks, and he makes up for the focus and calm control I can sometimes lack. Together we are a formidable team, two halves of the one whole, two sides of the one coin. Without one, the other performs at less than their peak, and so it was with us.

The others never argued with Mark, they just did what he told them to do, no question. But me, if I didn't agree, I'd argue, and if Mark convinced me he was right, I'd go along with him, but if he didn't I'd argue until we compromised, or he ordered me to agree. It sounds bad yeah, but damn, it worked, and we got through more missions alive that way.

I also respected Mark more for including me in the decision making process as well.

During that year Mark worked with me during my convalescence, helping me to train with my new modifications, helping me to get back into the peak of physical condition.

Emotionally, however, I just wasn't the same as I was before. I grew quiet, and more introspective. I joked and teased a lot less, was less sarcastic, less cynical and more fatalistic. I tended to brood more, and to want to spend large amounts of time alone, away from them all. I spent hours with my cars, and even more hours out at the track, in spite of the danger now that Zoltar knew my identity.

The reasons for the change had a lot to do with my sudden realisation that I really wasn't gonna go on forever. Yeah, I know, hadn't I worked that out before? After all, I've been a killer for years now. Well, what I mean is, like most young people, I had a certain belief in my own indestructibleness. i.e. I had some misguided belief that because I was young, I must be immortal. I don't mean truly immortal, I mean, that I had decades and decades of life left to me, and that was forever, right? Remember, I was barely 19 years old. Most 19 year olds think death is very, very far away. Well, soldier or not, I was no exception to that belief. I had a great belief in my ability to get out of any sticky situation, whether on the job, or on the track, and thought I could do it forever. Then Zoltar got me, subjected me to six weeks of horrific pain and humiliations and suddenly I was looking my own death right in the face, and shit, I was only 19... Man, it was a shocking revelation...

In a concession to Mark's concerns about me, I moved my trailer out to his airfield and parked it in a vacant lot near by, where he could keep an eye on me. It's still parked there to today, although I live with Mark full time now.

When I went back to the team, 18 months previously, Mark treated me like shit. Almost as if he were deliberately trying to get me killed. There's no complete way I can describe his behaviour, but the words arsehole, and son of a bitch, sprang to my mind most constantly, as I so informed him on many occasions.

On the missions he ignored my ideas and suggestions, he wouldn't even discuss things with me anymore. He sent me to the most dangerous areas of bases alone, or paired me up with a team member unable to deal with what we were up against. He sent me on solo missions that were often extremely dangerous, and almost killed me on more than one occasion.

When I tried to broach the subject with him he ignored me, or shouted me down.

Things were getting horrible, and awfully out of control, and beyond my ability to deal with alone. I'd come home at night my stomach and guts twisting with nausea and pain, unable to think of a way to make the situation between us better.

Even Chief Anderson noticed Mark's God-awful behaviour and reprimanded him for it on several occasions, and Princess was generally disgusted with him.

But, he didn't seem to care and finally it drove me to a breaking point.

I turned to Princess, my sweet Angel, for help, and as always she gave it to me.

I confided in her how I felt about Mark, and how much I enjoyed our year together and had been beginning to think he liked me as more than a good friend, how hopeful I'd been and how shattered that all was now. I told her I couldn't stand it anymore and would leave if he gave me one more dangerous mission, which turned out to be a death trap.

Then he did it... One final dangerous mission, and yeah, I was almost killed, again.

When I returned, I was pissed off in a major way and about to show that bastard just how much!

When I returned home that night after the mission, I packed up my stuff and hooked the G2 back up to my trailer and generally got ready to move on.

My Cell Phone rang, and I picked up the call.

"Yeah?" I asked, when I clicked on the receive button.

"It's Mark!" He responded. "Come to the house, we need to talk." Then he clicked off.

Officious sounding son of a bitch!

I stomped around for a bit, not particularly wanting to go and see him. I had planned to just drive away after hooking up my gear, not really wanting to see him again.

Princess had told me earlier that she'd had words with Mark, and to at least try to speak to him, or hear him out.

Giving in, I swore to myself, turned and strode towards his house, still in Birdstyle, my helmet clutched in my hand, wings lifting behind me as I stalked across the field.

I slammed through the door, and threw my helmet at him.

"Well hello commander!" I snarled. "Got another death defying mission for me? Or, are you going to do it the easy way and just shoot me yourself?"

He fingered my helmet, and quickly found the dent, a dent that he would know could only have been made by a bullet.

His head snapped up to look at my face searchingly, but all that was in my eyes was hurt, and pain, and anger, no injuries on my skin. The only badly bleeding injury was to my soul, and that was gonna take a long, long time to heal fully.

"Take a good look, commander." I growled. "I'm unmarked, no thanks to you!"

It was then he noticed the dishevelled state of my Birdstyle, scorch marks streaking my chest.

"I thank God every moment of the day these fucking things are bullet proof" I growled.

Or I'd be dead a hundred times over by now, I thought to myself.

Then I was standing right before him, pushing at him and yelling: "What the fuck are you playing at Mark? Are you fucking trying to get me killed? There are easier ways you bastard!" With that I pulled my laser pistol and handed it to him. "Go ahead, commander sir, shoot me, get it over with faster than you're managing right now!" I pushed into him, but he ignored the gun, refusing to take it.

Then I was shoving him, and yelling at him, and the fuckwit wasn't listening to a word I was saying, which only maddened me even further.

Finally I pushed him down on the couch, and loomed over him, demanding explanations.

He did nothing more than look up at me, a stunned expression on his face.

Disappointed, I let my shoulders slump in defeat. "Oh fuck it!" I said, feeling drained and weary and turned on my heel to move tiredly towards the door.

He surged to his feet, and leapt after me, grasping me by the arm, swinging me around. "No, Jason!" He gasped. "Please don't go like this!"

I glared into his eyes. "Well, fuck Mark, how would you like me to go?" I sneered, fully intending to hurt him.

He flinched and practically babbled. "I'm sorry Jase. I've been a real asshole to you lately. I deserve everything you've said to me. I just... just..." But he couldn't say it, whatever it was he was trying to say, his voice trailed off...

"Well fine!" I said after a bit. "But I'm still leaving. My resignation will be in the mail. I'll drop the G2 off at the ISO and pick up my other car for the trailer. You wont be seeing me again after today. Get someone else to do your fucking nasty little jobs for you from now onwards."

I turned and headed back for the door, intense pain clutching at my soul.

He gaped at me in shock for a moment then chased after me again. "Jason..." He called desperately. "Please, can we talk about it? Can you give me a chance to make it better?"

When I paused uncertainly to look at him, he said: "I have fresh coffee, your favourite blend..."

I hesitated and was lost. Well, shit! My favourite blend! I couldn't resist such a tempting invitation. Coming back in with a reluctant grin, I shrugged. "Sure, why the hell not, I've nothing to loose by listening to you."

Then we talked long into the night, drank cup after cup of coffee, and finally made our peace with each other.

God how I loved him more for trying, and God how I longed for him to return my love to me.

After that things gradually became better, but it took a little while for me to trust him again, and also for Mark to learn to trust himself once again as well.

But gradually, over time, our relationship, both private and work related, improved enormously.

We began to work together more smoothly as a team, even better than we had before my year off. The Chief noticed and commented favourably, which was really something.

We spent a lot of time together, getting to know each other as friends once again, learning to like again, learning to play, learning to love.

We flew together sometimes. Mark is the greatest pilot, and I'm fair to middling myself, so we often took a couple of planes up in the air to soar among the clouds.

Hell, it was almost better than sex. Note, I said 'almost'.

Then, one evening, almost 6 months ago, we'd just had pizza together, and were lounging around drinking glasses of cheap red wine when Mark suddenly muttered: "God! Fuck it! I can't stand it anymore..."

Shuffling around next to him, I asked lazily. "Can't stand what Mark?" I bet he didn't even realise he'd spoken aloud.

Mark carefully put his glass down on the coffee table and then he took mine gently from me and placed it next to his. Leaning in, he kissed me, slowly and gently, lightly, taking me by complete, confused, disbelieving surprise.

When I didn't respond immediately he sat back, fear roaming around on his face, and suddenly leapt to his feet, stumbling away from me, babbling apologies.

I stood up from the couch and advanced on him as he backed away from me. Finally backing him in to a wall, I grasped his arms.

"Shut up Mark!" I growled, my voice husky with need. "You talk way too much!"

Then I kissed him ruthlessly. Crushing him against me, pushing my tongue into his mouth, duelling with his, taking his breath completely away.

God he tasted so freaking good!

Soon we were on the couch making hot heavy love. Somehow we got naked, and then using our hands, and tongues, and lips, and friction, we made each other scream in pleasure.

Then, wrapping ourselves around each other, we stayed like that until morning.

But, until the other night, we'd never penetrated each other, except with our fingers. I was a virgin when in came to male-male sex, so the whole concept of going all the way made me nervous, even with Mark. However, after a while, Mark had introduced me to the mysteries of the prostate, by asking permission to insert a finger into me. Naturally, I felt really nervous about it. As I'd never been penetrated by a man before. Not even with a hint of a finger, but, I agreed to it. What the heck, hey?

Now, in retrospect, I'm sorry I held Mark back from going all the way. Ya know, I really wanted him to be my first... Well shit! We can't have everything!

He'd soon had me writhing in pleasure on the bed. Over the next few sessions he introduced two, then three fingers, getting me ready for accepting his penis.

Sadly it never happened, Mark was never destined to be my first. Some fucking soldiers in Zoltar's pay stole that from me. Took away my 'innocence' and crushed it under their heavy boots.

A few days before we were gunna try full on sex, I was lost on the mission, then incarcerated and raped, and my first feeling of a penis buried inside of me was one of pain and horror, not pleasure and love.

They stole that joy from me, just as they ripped my soul away.

Somewhere in all these musings Chief Anderson rang me up to tell me Mark was on his way back to me alive.

Then, six hours later, I heard his plane coming down to land, so I grabbed my crutch and hobbled out to meet my truant lover.

The plane taxied in and drew to a stop near the hanger. Momentarily before leaving the plane Mark rested his head on his hands looking exhausted. Then, seeming to sense me, he looked up and saw me standing not far away leaning on my crutch watching him.

He leapt down from the plane, and moved towards me, finally coming to a stop in front of me. I peered at him, noted the injuries, then moving my hand out I slapped him several times across the face, splitting his lip a little in the process.

"You fucking bastard" I yelled. "What the fuck was that? Are you trying to get yourself killed or worse?" I shivered with reaction. "What if you'd been caught like me, and used like I was? Hey? How the fuck would I have lived with that, then?"

He simply reached for me and said my name: "Jase, I..."

I flinched and moved away from him. "Don't Mark! Don't even try!"

I turned and hobbled away from him, leaning heavily on the crutch.

Then, a few metres away from him, the crutch fell from my suddenly nerveless hand and I sagged down to my knees gasping out with the pain of that, my shoulders shaking, reaction setting in, as I buried my face in my hands and cried.

Mark ran over and dropped to his knees in front of me. He took my hands in his own and I allowed him to pull them away from my face, so that he could see my tears.

At first I wouldn't look at him, my gaze cast down I pleaded for answers to the tarmac in general. "Why Mark? Please help me to understand!"

Clasping my trembling hands, he held them tightly and said to me. "After what they did to you Jase, I had to do something to retaliate. Even not knowing you'd been raped."

At that absurd statement I pulled my hands away from him and frowned up into his face.

"How could you not know Mark? Don't tell me you waited for me to tell you? Jesus, the evidence was there, the injuries were there. Christ, you were there! You rescued me. You saw what condition I was in! How can you not have known? Even Princess and Tiny figured it out. Probably even Keop too. It was in all my medical reports. Didn't you, my husband, read them? You really have no excuses for not knowing, or realising, Mark."

My eyes pleaded with him...

He had no choice but to admit I was right about it all. "Yes, you're right." He sighed heavily. "I think a part of me just didn't want to know, so I blocked the idea out."

I peered up at him for a while, drinking in his beautiful eyes. "Ya know, Mark, I can't block it out, ever. You're the one I love and want to be with, I've needed you to understand what I've been, and am, going through, it's been tough these past weeks."

And my God, I needed him to hold me, to still love me, no matter what, forever...

He took me in his arms and gently stroked my hair. "Yeah, I know, and I'm sorry love, please give me a chance to be better for you."

I shuddered in his grasp. "I don't know Mark, what you did today was horrifying, I woke up hours ago, and when you were not there went looking for you. Not finding you I realised where you'd gone, so I called the chief, who confirmed you'd gone on a special assignment to the base to, 'take it out,' he said."

I pushed against him then. "Bastard! Did it occur to you I might want my own revenge after I'm better?"

The look on his face told me he hadn't thought of it that way. "I thought not." I muttered.

Then I grasped at him. "You could've been killed Mark... Jesus!"

He pulled me close to him. "But I wasn't Jase, I'm home, safe, the base is destroyed, everyone is dead, we can move on with things now."

I shook my head violently. "That's where you're wrong Mark, Zoltar is still out there, and the Luminous One, and let's not forget dear sweet Mala. It's not over until they are all destroyed. Besides, it will take me a long, long time to come to grips with what's happened to me, and I'm gonna need your help every step of the way, sweetheart."

Pulling me in close to him he tightened his hold around me. Pulling back, he bent his head down to mine for a kiss. For the moment I resisted, then melted into his arms, allowing his tongue to glide in over mine. I trembled slightly in his grasp.

Pulling away he looked down at me in concern. "Let's get back to the house. Can you walk?"

I nodded. Picking up my crutch he helped me to my feet. Of course my knees buckled under me, and he simply scooped me up in his arms, and carried me the rest of the way in.

Inside, he dumped me on the bed and leaning in stole another kiss from my lips.

I pulled away from him when his hands began to wander all over my body. "Please Mark." I whispered, pleading with him. "Not tonight. Maybe not for a while. Not after last night and this morning. I need time before I can be physical again."

He gently nuzzled my hair, and nipped at an earlobe. "No problem love, we have plenty of time for all the rest of it, all of our lives. I can wait."

Have I said yet how much I love my man?

I curled down on to the bed and he curled up behind me. "Just hold me, sweetheart." I whispered. "Just hold me..."

So, he held me, stroking my hair and my cheek until I fell asleep.

Later that night, I woke up and tended to his injuries, healing them with my Empathic powers. After which we drifted back off to sleep again.

Like Mark, I know that there's only one person I want to grow old with, and I'm lying snuggled up right here in his arms, safe, warm, content...

If I were a cat, I'd purrrrrr...

Mark tells me that he will never let me go. He whispers it to me as I slip off to sleep.

Whispers that he will love me forever, no matter what, through thick and through thin, and all that jazz... And God... That's all I want and all I need to know, as for now, and for all eternity, I will love him also, and will never, never let him go either...

I'm lucky to have him, when so many other rape victims have no one.

I have him, and he will hold me, and protect me, for the rest of my life.

What more could I want or need?

God how I love him!

The End.