In a Gray Mirror pt 2

Posted on 23 Jul 2015 @ 6:41pm by Lieutenant JG (SoghHom) Grayson Jones

3,268 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 09 - Empires
Location: Grayson's Residence
Timeline: MU, 4 years ago

Previously:

"This one secret only. Tell others the date of my birth and you may find your own present turning against you," Grayson lifted his head to nuzzle Tyrion like he had his whip, feeling that both were now an extension of himself.

"I will take that secret to my grave," Tyrion promised, "if anyone knows, they will not have learned it from me." He enjoyed the gentle touch and returned it in kind, always happy when his master was in a good mood.

As Grayson began to unwrap his other present, he was in a very good mood indeed.


Continued from Part 1:

Sheets covering his damp and sweaty body, Tyrion leaned over his master and lover, kissing down and up the entire length of his spots just as he liked. They were at the height of their passion and Tyrion let his mind wander. He didn't even think about what he was doing as he was trying to please the hybrid Trill, just as he was taught and expected to do. His mind brushed against Grayson's, going beyond the trained boundary of surface emotions and thoughts, delving deeper as he tried - unconsciously - to connect as was natural for a Betazoid to do when they were really close with someone. Especially, a special someone. Grayson was all he had, and all he lived for. Grayson had been his first as well, so it only made sense for the young Betazoid to do this.

Sensing the intrusion on his mind, Grayson rose bolt upright. Shocked. He lashed out, striking Tyrion with the back of his hand. "Know your place and never to that to me again," he screamed, "Understand?!"

Not quite sure what he'd done, Tyrion fell back, his eyes wide in shock as he covered his cheek with his hand. "I don't understand master," he murmured, trying to reach out again. "I don't understand what I did wrong. What'd I do wrong?"

The intrusion penetrated much deeper this time, Grayson reached for one of his stashed weapons. "That...using your telepathy on me. I cannot abide it. Do not use that mental torture device on me like you do my targets." The custom made Ferengi energy whip spurt into life, the blue tetryon based energy surged through. It was a personal favourite of his, he said the blue tetryon energy matched his eyes. Grayson cracked the whip down with considerable force, barely missing Tyrion.

Crying out, Tyrion fell backwards onto the bed, away from Grayson. "Master please!" he begged, "I'm sorry...I don't know what I did! I don't know!" Fear flashed in his eyes; he knew of the whip, he'd seen it used on others before but so far it'd never been used on him. He had felt the static electricity graze his skin as he was just missed, and it wasn't pleasant. He couldn't even remember ever having been punished before; so far he had kept true to his word and had never ever questioned Grayson. But he didn't know what he'd done wrong. "I've not used anything on you, I swear," he pleaded.
Rage had taken control of Grayson's actions. "You did, twice you have! Once I asked you to stop and you reached out again with that disgusting act. That...penetration of minds. You will never be using that on me again." He was breathing heavily, his pupils wide, head and hands twitching wildly, "There is only one cause of action. You must be punished. You've never liked this whip. I have seen the look on your face when I have used it. It will be your reward." Grayson pressed a button to overcharge the whip. It sparked furiously, hissing with it's owner's rage. The blue bolt of lightning drew down across Grayson's face, narrowly missing it, but not his target: Tyrion's chest.

The Betazoid screamed as the whip lashed and burned across his chest, enveloping his entire body with the charge. He writhed as a second scream echoed off the walls. "Please," he begged, convulsing as the charge left his body, leaving him breathless. "I'm sorry, I didn't know I was doing it. Please!"

"Not good enough," Grayson stuck the whip down for a second blow, this time most of the charge has dissipated from the whip.

Pulling his legs up to protect his front, Tyrion sobbed openly, begging for Grayson to stop. "I'd never harm you," he whispered, "I promised I'd never harm you, and I won't. I don't know what I did, and I don't know how to not do it. You know me master, you know I mean you no harm, ever! Please....please stop, no more. Please!"

"Then only use it on your victims. You are the telepath. Know when you are reaching out, or face this again," Grayson threateningly waggled the whip towards Tyrion's face.

Tyrion recoiled, the pain of the charge still coursing through his body. "Yes master," he sobbed, "I'll learn." Breathing hurt a lot, but he couldn't stop breathing and so his chest was in agony. He lay panting, tears streaming down his cheeks, willing for the burning to stop.

"Pick yourself up and leave," Grayson muttered as he returned to sit on the bed, looking at Tyrion with a look of utter contempt.

"I can't," Tyrion whimpered desperately, "I can't move, it hurts too much. I can't breathe. Help me, please." His voice was barely audible over his laboured breath.

"Well, I don't care. Pick yourself up and get out or face the whip again," Grayson screamed, spit flying from his mouth from anger. He began to charge the whip again.

Smearing the white silk sheets with blood, Tyrion tried to roll off the bed but got no further than the floor. He cried out and remained there, feeling lightheaded and faint, especially at the sight of his own blood. "I can't breathe," he whimpered softly, unconsciously bracing himself for another lashing because of his disobedience. But he was trying! He was trying to leave as he was bid, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't respond, he couldn't move.

"Then crawl out," Grayson, still in a state of undress, rose to his feet again and held the whip to his lips. The low charge coursed through him and excited him, the tip of the whip rested against his abs, each gentle swing brought a new thrilling sensation. He finally let it drop to the floor as he let it charge again. "I will use this again. I will make it hurt. Get. Out. Now," he called giving his last warning through his fogged mind.

Knowing he'd have to endure another lashing, Tyrion just lay there, unable to move. He was in so much pain, the last time he'd been in this much pain was when he'd seen his parents murdered. "Then it'll hurt," he murmured, closing his eyes and braced himself. "I'm sorry master, for failing you....for disobeying you today. But I honestly can't move, I'll resign in this lashing..." And he knew he'd scream.

Today was a lucky day for Tyrion. Grayson felt compassion for one of the few times in his life. Not that he would know that is what it would be called, since he had never experienced it himself. Calling out beyond the room, he summoned more of the staff he commanded, "Someone come and get this pitiful thing away from me. Sickbay, his quarters, a cell or something. Just get him away from me now. Call T'Amra...I need a massage and my bath run too." He turned his back on Tyrion, hearing the door open and footsteps enter the room.

It hurt to be called a thing, but Tyrion said nothing, grateful that he wasn't to endure a second whipping. He passed out in his own room as he was unceremoniously dumped on his bed, the burn across his chest left to heal on it's own as a reminder of this day.

== 2 years later ==

Shadow bouncing at his side, Tyrion entered the room he had first entered as a lowly slave four years ago. The newly adorned dark red leather creaked softly as he moved, though it would soon warm up and cling to his body like a second skin, no longer making any sound at all. He preferred the red over the black, though black made him able to disappear more. Four years he had been here now, and he'd proven his loyalty time and again.

His hand rested on Shadow's head, the two year old German Shepherd bitch twisting her head to look up at him as he stayed her. "Master Grayson," he greeted with a certain amount of affection. "I have returned, a mission accomplished." Giving Shadow a nudge, the dog sped forward, all but tackling the Trill hybrid, licking his face in an affection the other man refrained from showing in public.

Having been resting in a chair, it took most of the dog's pounce. As Grayson stood the dog began to settle and lay heel at his side and pace as he walked towards Tyrion. "Excellent work. I trust the target in question suffered greatly?" In his usual fashion, Grayson began to run his hands around Tyrion as he circled him, feeling every muscle. "I do love the leather on you though. I'm glad I made that choice," he leaned in close and kissed Tyrion's neck brazenly and without thought or care.

"By your command, he did," Tyrion reported, "and I extracted the information you wanted too." That was the beauty of being a telepath, there was no paper trail that could be followed. A simple mind touch to extract it, and another to report it was all that was required. He gasped at the kiss, his feelings for his master were well known, as was his ferocity in protecting him. He screened the lovers his master kept, and killed those with dubious intentions. He raised his hand, resting it against Grayson's neck, silently communicating what he knew in less than a few seconds. "No witnesses," he added, then smiled. "And I love the leather too...it doesn't stain as bad and it makes me look better. Permission to take it off, however? It is quite warm here."

Grayson grinned waywardly as he closed his eyes, received the information and the images of the traitor's death. "You've done exceedingly well Tyrion," he opened his eyes and stretched his neck, while he enjoyed their mental exchanges, they always put pressure on his neck and strained his mind. Not that he cared, he enjoyed the experience and the thrilling pain after. "Well, you do know our arrangement, you completed your assignment very well and provided me with the information I needed and lovely images...you will be sharing my bed tonight. So yes, I expect you to take it off."

Tyrion smiled as he struggled out of the tight leather tunic, the vine across his back in various shades of green rippling as he moved. AS the tunic came off, more of the tattoo was revealed, showing several roses in various stages of bloom, with one particularly delicate blue variant over his chest, right over his heart. Each rose had a personal significance that only his master knew the true meaning of. Anyone else noticing, was spun a lie about it. "Would master care to assist?" he asked meekly, struggling with the sleeves.

"Oh, I think you will be able to get it yourself, you are more than capable," Grayson launched himself down onto the bed, watching his bed mate remove his clothing. He always enjoyed this part, laying back, watching a person let themselves become most vulnerable before he sunk his teeth in.

Tyrion struggled out of his outfit, laying out his hidden weapons on the night stand for easy reach. "What does master desire tonight?" he asked softly as he crawled onto the bed. He had grown fond of the hybrid, who had only mistreated him if he had deserved punishment. And those instances were rare. He bore one single mark as evidence and reminder of that.

Putting his hands up and over his head, stretching out and relaxing, all Grayson had to say was, "You know what I like by now. Get to it." The pair would be having a most enjoyable night, engaging and enjoying in acts that their yet unknown Prime Universe selves wouldn't dare dream of. It would not be until the next morning that the pair would speak, "Satisfactory as always," Grayson began, signalling the end of their night and a cue it was time for Tyrion to leave.

Tyrion slid from the bed, feeling exhausted and refreshed at the same time. He dared a bold kiss before leaving to get cleaned up. Shadow remained at the foot of the bed, on guard until he returned, back in his red leather. "Your orders master?" he asked, beckoning the dog. She needed to be walked.

"I'm sure we have some Terran's who need tortured or something. I honestly don't care. Just go make yourself useful or something until you are needed again," Grayson turned away to look out of the window, he now just wanted to be alone. "One of the vulcan prisoners has a thing for you...find some new and interesting way to extract information from her. Today is a day I'm going to need entertained."

"A thing for me?" Tyrion frowned. "You wish for me to lay with her master?" He'd never used his sexual prowess with a female before and wouldn't even know how to begin.

Unless she was in heat in some manner and would require his services as a reward for cooperation. But even then, he wouldn't know where to begin! He cast questioning eyes, their irises altered to a dark grey, on his master, indecision and confusion on his handsome face.

"I'm giving you free reign in an odd moment of kindness, do what you need to get the information from her. Just don't kill her. A softer handed approach is what we will need. Her death will do nothing but make her another martyr and rally more people to some deluded version of rebellion," he sighed, already feeling bored, "Just make it quick and entertaining. I need something of substance to amuse me today."

"Yes master." The young Betazoid exited the chambers, the dog following closely on his heel. Wherever Tyrion went, Shadow went as well, and it was known around the ship that the dog didn't tolerate anyone but her master, or her master's master. He went down to the cells and retrieved the Vulcan woman, knowing internal sensors would follow his whereabouts closely. He might be free to move, but he was still owned. The woman was silent as she went with him, and he took her down to the ship's arboretum, sitting her down on a bench. Shadow lay at their feet, watching while appearing to sleep. "My master wishes to be entertained," he told the young woman, "and you have information he requires."

Tyrion caressed her cheek, feeling her flinch without her showing she did. "You don't have to be afraid of me," he whispered, "I know what you need. There are Vulcan men close to their TIme. I can arrange for you to be allowed to be with one, allow you to mate and conceive. But for that, I require your cooperation."

The woman withdrew from him, her eyes smouldering as she looked up. Tyrion could sense her repulsion as his mind brushed against hers, breaching easily through her barriers. "I'll get what I want regardless," he continued to whisper, "if you resist, you'll suffer."

"What does that beast want now? He has gotten everything he wants out of me. I have no more. He sends his lap dog though to break people. You are just a pawn in that sick man's game. Whatever there is between you two, he doesn't love you, he doesn't need you. He'll do to you like he has the rest. You'll be flushed out an airlock when he is bored with you."

"He is not a beast," Tyrion replied defensively. Like he wouldn't speak badly of his master, he didn't tolerate others speaking badly of the man who had been mostly kind to him since saving his life. He reached out, invading her mind, filling her with thoughts of desire of one of the Vulcan men who were entering Pon Farr. "You want him," he whispered suggestively, running his hand past her breast, feeling her react. "You can feel him reach out to you. You can have him, if you give me what I want. I want to know the location of the rebel base. I want your superior, I want Silas and you'll give him to me. And in return, you can have Symak and he can have you."

"I don't want him," she screamed out, curling the blood of anyone who was near. The woman's hands reached up to her head, almost pulling the hair from it's roots, "Get out, get out, get out!"

He reached out, pulling her arms down, whispering soothing words to her. "Yes you do. He needs to T'Mira, can't you hear him calling you? Give me Silas, and your suffering ends. Symak's suffering ends...and I'll see about you two mating, and keeping the child." He knew about Vulcan mating practices, having observed them, and the obvious result a few times. Though Tyrion had never ever harmed a child since killing his own sisters, he had seen others commit to gruesome acts. And T'Mira was his responsibility.

"You will have to work harder than that to break me Betazoid," the Vulcan replied, regaining her composure after the initial assault. "Your mind is untrained, undisciplined," she grabbed hold of Tyrion's head and reached out with her own mind briefly.

Tyrion recoiled at her sudden assault but he pushed back. "So you think," he smiled evilly, "I am better trained than you believe Vulcan. And I will have what my master wants, with or without your cooperation. Perhaps when Symak does have his way with you, then you'll be more cooperative with me. Since you don't seem to either want or like him."

"Do your worst," she goaded him.

Taking her by the arm, as if he was taking her for a stroll, Tyrion guided the woman towards the cells which held the male Vulcans. "Symak, I have a mate for you," he said pleasantly, pushing the woman inside. "Make her scream."

She fell to the floor, helpless, "You'll still get nothing from me. I'd rather die and you will have to disappoint your master. I wonder how that will go down?" Her control of emotions was clearly broken by this point.

"You won't die," Tyrion promised, "but you will be broken."

"Then you get nothing."

"I doubt that. I've never failed in my extractions before, and I'm not likely to now." He cast her a wicked grin. "Have fun T'Mira...be good to him."

They parted company as she spat in his direction.

Smiling now, Tyrion turned his back on her and walked back to Grayson's room. "More entertainment to follow if you tune in on cell block three master," he announced, while tossing a chip onto the desk. "I hope this is sufficient?"

"For now it will do," Grayson sighed as he now sat behind a desk, "You are dismissed. Go find something or someone to amuse yourself with. I have no more need of you today."

:: TBC ::

SoghHom Grayson Jones
Saalm Crewmember

Tyrion
Grayson's servant
[pnpc T'Vanna]

RSS Feed