- Fly back from D.C.
- Go to classmate's dinner party.
Title: Ritual of Release
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word Count: 1,730
Warnings: Dubious consent (alien drug); kink (bondage, toys); cheesy ending
A/N: Under-the-wire Porn Battle entry, prompts "AMTDI" (aliens made them do it) and "double penetration."
Two hours after Elizabeth gated in, furious but determined to negotiate before resorting to her military escort, the Epiphesians finally agreed to release John.
Elizabeth rose from the table immediately. "Thank you, Chancellor Vargon. Now if you'll bring us Colonel Sheppard, we will arrange for the transfer of antibiotics from Atlantis as agreed."
"I will take you to him," said Vargon. "Two of you, no more. There you will perform the ritual of release, and all will be free to leave."
Elizabeth nodded. "Major Lorne?"
"Yes, ma'am." He ordered the rest of the men to wait where they were and followed her out.
Vargon led them through windowless gray hallway after windowless gray hallway until they reached one lined with doors, each marked with a different set of dots she guessed were numbers. One had a green light blinking over the lintel. Vargon stopped in front of it.
"Your Colonel is waiting inside. You will use these, both and only."
Elizabeth looked down at the objects he handed them. Made of polished, dark wood gleaming with varnish, about six inches long and tapered on one end, they were unmistakeably shaped like—and meant to be used as—phalluses.
"Uh, ma'am?" Lorne asked.
"Chancellor," she said, blinking away her surprise, "are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
"When the prisoner has achieved release, you may return to your world. We have agreed." He took a set of keys from the pocket of his robe.
"We were not made aware that this ritual was sexual in nature—"
"You have thirty minutes," Vargon said, and pulled open the door.
Lorne was looking at her; she looked at Vargon. Vargon stood, impassive. At last, she nodded; they could explain the situation to John and see what he wanted to do. Lorne went in, Elizabeth close behind.
John was lying naked on a low bed in the dim room, his wrists and ankles shackled to the metal frame. The bed was short enough that he'd had to bend his knees to fit. He was squirming in the restraints, rubbing the back of his head into the thin mattress, eyes squeezed shut, breaths coming in quick stutters through his nose. She would've thought he was in pain if it weren't for his unmarked skin and dark, swollen erection.
"Oh, my God," Elizabeth breathed.
"Ah, Jesus," Lorne murmured beside her.
"What have you done to him?" she demanded, turning around. But Vargon had shut the door.
"'Lizbeth?" John slurred. She turned back to find that he'd opened his eyes, while Lorne had averted his gaze.
She stepped closer. John was sweating and trembling. "Yes," she said, clutching the dildo out of his sight. "I'm here with Major Lorne. We're getting you out."
It took a moment for him to focus on her. His pupils were huge. "Great," he grated, and twisted again. "Just…small problem, here."
"Ah. Yes. About that." She exchanged a glance with Lorne. "The Epiphesians have agreed to let you go, but first, we're supposed to—" She fumbled for words. "We can help you—" Finally, she just held up the dildo.
"Yes," he groaned, and spread his knees as wide as they would go.
Oh. "Are you—"
"Please," he said, angling his hips up.
He may have been under the influence of an alien drug, but that was as clear a consent as he could give, and she wasn't going to make him beg. This would already be hard enough for him to deal with later.
She perched at the foot of the cot between his cuffed legs and put a tentative hand on his thigh. He whined and pushed into the touch. When she slid her hand higher, he shifted further down the bed, giving her better access.
Something glistened on the skin and hair around his hole. She touched it with the tip of her finger, earning another urgent sound from him, and found that he'd already been prepared. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved they could do this with lubrication or distressed at the new level of violation.
When John said, "Please," again, she stopped delaying and brought the narrower, rounded end of the dildo up into place. She circled it a few times to coat it and to warn John, but before she could press even the tip inside, he lifted up, and the thing slid right in. She had to quickly adjust her hold to prevent it from completely disappearing. John moaned and rocked his hips, bracing his feet on the bedposts, fucking himself on the dildo, sounding relieved and desperate at the same time. God, how long had he lain here like this, bound and pushing up into nothing but air?
"Okay," Elizabeth said gently, "it's okay, John, let me." He was panting now, his eyes fallen closed again, and his hands fisted and opened ceaselessly. She moved the dildo in and out as far as she could without losing her grip, her fingers slippery with lube. The smell of sex began to permeate the cell, accompanied by the squish of their joining and the clink of his chains and John's harsh breaths.
When they'd settled into a rhythm and John sounded less like he was going to shiver apart in the next three seconds, she turned to Lorne, who was standing stiffly a few feet away. His head was low, but Elizabeth saw him sneak a glance over to them. His knuckles were white around the other dildo.
"Evan," she said softly. He snapped to attention. "Can you do this, or do you want me to take both?"
He took a breath, let it out. "I can do it." He stepped up to the bed.
She had to repeat John's name twice before he heard her. When he focused on her, she nodded at the second dildo in Lorne's hands.
"Sir," said Lorne.
"John," he corrected. Lorne nodded.
"We have to use both of these," Elizabeth told him. "How do you…?"
John opened his mouth.
Lorne knelt. Elizabeth had to hold back a whimper at the sight of him slowly sliding the dildo into John's mouth, at John closing his lips around the wood, at the deep, satisfied sound he made around it. He sucked it in and let it slip almost all the way out and sucked it in again, lifting his head at what looked like an uncomfortable angle until Lorne shifted so John could lie back and suckle while Lorne moved the dildo in short, steady strokes.
Elizabeth sped up her own strokes while John rocked between them, moaning quietly. His erection looked painful, trailing wetness across his belly. She wanted to reach down and take hold of him to finish him off, but she hesitated. Both and only, Vargon had said, and she didn't want to give him any excuse to annul their deal.
"John, I don't think we can touch you. Can you"—she cleared her throat—"can you come from this?"
He made a sound around the dildo and nodded. From the way he was writhing and clutching at his bonds while she and Lorne gave it to him from both ends, she believed him.
But after several more minutes with no indication that he was getting closer, it looked like John wouldn't be able to do it without something more.
Then she had an idea. "Evan, what if you…?" She motioned, and he got it, and slid the dildo from John's swollen mouth, trailing a string of saliva. He brought it down to John's erection, sliding it slickly along the underside.
"Ah," John moaned, twisting. "Harder."
Lorne's strokes grew firmer and faster.
"'Lizabeth," John panted. "Tilt…up." She adjusted the angle, and realized why he'd asked when he jerked and bit his lip. She stared helplessly at his face as he strained, his teeth and throat bared. In less than a minute, he stilled and cried out and came all over his stomach, pulsing around the dildo in her hand.
Lorne lay his dildo on the mattress while John tried to catch his breath. Elizabeth nodded, and he went over to knock on the inside of the door to summon Vargon.
She carefully worked her own dildo out, placing her other hand on John's thigh once again to anchor the both of them. She used a tissue from the pocket of her vest to wipe him up.
When she finished, John was watching her. The drug was clearing from his eyes. "Thanks," he murmured.
She squeezed his shoulder.
The door opened and Vargon came in. Without a word, he inspected John and the dildos. Then he nodded and went out.
A pair of Vargon's guards followed shortly after. One unlocked John's restraints, the other laid John's clothes and boots in a pile on the floor, and they left.
John sat up with a wince and rubbed his wrists. Elizabeth and Lorne turned away while he dressed.
Back in Atlantis, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon were doubtless pacing a hole in the floor waiting for them to get back. Or in Ronon's case, possibly punching holes in the wall. Eventually, she'd have to deal with their anger over her refusal to let them return to Epiphesia and participate in the talks. She knew that much of it was truly directed at John, anyway, for sacrificing himself to get them home.
The bed creaked, and bootsteps approached. John stood in his uniform between them, put back together except for his sweat-matted hair and confiscated weapons.
"Sir," Lorne said.
John nodded. "Major. What do you say we blow this popsicle stand?"
"Sounds like the best idea I've heard all day, sir."
She nodded. He'd have to see Carson, of course, and all three of them could probably use a session or two with Kate, and they'd have to talk about what to put in the report they'd send back to Earth. But right now, all she wanted was to get John out of this room and off this planet.
Vargon reappeared to lead them back to the meeting room. They collected the Marines and their weapons and were escorted back to the gate, where Carson's staff delivered the antibiotics as she'd instructed.
"I'm sorry that our people couldn't become allies, Chancellor," she said.
Vargon looked unimpressed. "Perhaps one day we will wish to discuss an alliance with you."
"Yeah, not so much," said John. He turned to Elizabeth. "Let's go home."
He stepped through the wormhole, Elizabeth on one side and Lorne on the other.
* * *
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