Title: TO THE VICTOR, THE PRIZE

Author/pseudonym: PEJA

Fandom: FARSCAPE

Paring: CRICHTON/CRIAS

Rating: NC-17, any questions....

Status: And the beat goes on. This one is a WIP...not so surprising, is it? yes, I will finish it, as time goes by. Just let me know how it's working for ya, k?

Archive: The WWOMB Archive & PEJAs slash page

Series/Sequel: to be, or not to be, that is the question...

Disclaimers: Not mine, but I['m going to the auction.

Notes: the first of the first season conclusion showed tonight. Lots of spoilers for it here. This is how I want the next ep in this 4 parter to go....But we all know the network will wimp out.

Summary: Crais has the upper hand.

Warnings: RAPE/non-consensual everything/torture/First time

By
PEJA

"One, two, Scorpios' comin' for you,"

"Three, four, Crais is at the door,"

"Five, six, from the river Styx."

"Seven, eight, Gilina's sealed my fate."

"Nine, ten, I've been locked in the pen."

John Crichton's cellmate, Stark, listened with morbid fascination as the sing song words rose softly then fell and began again. Over and over until he thought he just might join in the chant to relieve his own reduction into mindless horror.

Almost, but as his lips moved to form the eerie words, the door slid silently open and Gilina crept on ghost feet into the dark, musty scented cell. the wane man scurried back into the shadows, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Crichton?" Gilian whispered, glancing around the dark room.

"One Two, Scorpios' coming for you...."

The sing song chant drew her across the room. Crichton skuttered deeper into the shadows at her approach.

"Three, four, Crais is at the door...."

"John....?" She touched his arm, feeling the quiver run through him at the slight contact.

"Five, six, from the river Styx..."

"John, can you hear me?" she demanded, giving his arm a shake. "Do you know who I am?"

He smiled. "Seven, eight, Gilina's sealed my fate...."

Tears filled her blue eyes and she reached out to cup his cheek. "Oh, John...."

Crichton jerked his head away. "Seven eight, Gilina's sealed my fate." he chanted again, his voice raising slightly.

"John, listen to me...."

He shook his head repeating the words again, louder than before.

Gilina glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to the trembling man. "Forgive me." Her fist connected with his chin, ending his nightmares for a brief moment in time.

~~~~

Consciousness came slowly, in stages, like peeling back layer after layer of darkness until the light glimmered, strengthened and finally blazed true.

Bringing the horror with it.

"Welcome back, John Crichton."

Crichton tilted his head back, laughing through, "Three, four, Crais is at the door...."

Flinging himself from the chair he was seated in, Crais stalked toward Crichton. He buried his fist in the matted brown waves and wrenched his victim up by the hair. "Laugh while you can, Crichton. Laugh while you can."

Hissing a breath through his teeth, John glared. "Do you're worst, you cold-blooded bastard. I won't tell you anything. You'll have to kill me first."

This time it was Crais' turn to laugh. A deep, belly laugh that twisted John's gut into painful knots.

"I have no questions for you, Crichton. And dying is not what I have in mind for you either...." His other lean hand cupped the other man's balls in a none-to-gentle grasp, and twisted.

John cried out, writhing in pain.

Crais waved two subordinates over. "Strip him. I want my slave naked." his hard gaze met John's widening one. "Naked and open."

CHAPTER TWO

"No..." John mouthed the word. "No..." he managed a soft whisper when the soldiers wrenched him up by the arms. "Nonononononooo..." he screamed as his clothes were ripped and torn from his body.

His resistance only bought him a fist to his gut that sent him crumbling to his knees. Another to his temple and he went down to curl in on himself, whimpering on the hard floor.

When he gained enough of his senses to gather his position again, he was as naked as the day he was born. And tied, spread eagle to a cross bar. Naked and open to anyone who wanted to look.

His wide-eyed gaze swept the room, finding himself alone with the one man who wanted his destruction above all else. Alone, open and unable to protect himself.

With Crais.

A sharp nailed finger bit into John's right ass cheek and he flinched. The nail scored over tender skin, drawing a thin trickle of blood. Crais' tongue tracked the flow, soothing the sting.

John shivered fighting the bonds that held him.

Crias laid a restraining hand on his waist, rubbing his hard, clothed groin against John's vulnerable ass, letting the panicking human feel the hard flesh begging release in his body.

"Don't," John snarled. "Dammit, Crais. Let me go."

Crais ignored him. Instead, his velvet soft tongue lapped the sweat from the pool of John's back. "I truly regret that that is simply not possible." His long fingered hand curled around John's exposed cock, measuring the length and breath of it. "You are a well hung creature, human."

"Go to hell."

"I've been there," Crias leaned over John's back until he could nuzzle his neck and whisper. "I've been there since the day you slammed into my life. Since you killed my brother. Since I realized no matter how much honor demanded it, I could never take your life for you crimes against my blood. " His fingers spread over John's ass cheeks, squeezing the plump, rounded flesh gently. "Since the day I understood that your body screamed to be mine."

John shuddered as those long nailed fingers tickled up his sides and across his chest, tweaking his nipples to attention. "You could always," he rasped mentally trying to shake off the clinging caress. "...try ignoring it."

Chuckling Crais nipped John's neck hard enough to draw blood. "Don't think I'll do that, Crichton.." His finger brushed over the exposed vulnerability of his victim, making John shudder once more. "No, I don't think I will do that at all."

END TO DATE