Slash and Burn
by Quill
Pairing: Padgett/Marcase
Disclaimer: yada yada yada, I didn't write this.
Rated: A, contains M/M slash sex smut and other wholesome entertainments.
Author's Notes: In the BURNING ZONE episode HALL OF THE SERPENT it was 4am in the morning when Philip Paget found Edward Marcase wandering around his home. Philip told the man to go and get some rest... then the next thing you know, it's early afternoon... I wonder what happened in that space of time... Well, here's what I think should have happened.
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Philip Pagent smiled coldly as he watched the dark haired man walk slowly out of his office. Wrapping his arm around Monica's waist, he murmured softly, "He's come here for healing... that's what we're going to give him..." then he pulled the willing woman hard against him, kissing her, building his hunger.
Marcase heard Rebecca Cassian's voice in his dream, whispering to him, "Whatever he tells you - do it and don't be afraid... He's amazing."
"Edward?" came that soft voice, "Ed-ward, it's time..."
Doctor Edward Marcase opened his eyes, blinking at the dim light from bedside lamp and staring up into hot green eyes, and he felt fear start to curl in his guts.
"My God rejected you, Edward," murmured Philip, as he sat on the bed, his hand stroking the cool material of the sheet that covered the other man. "Why did He do that?"
"Something came out of the mist," growled Marcase, fighting the fear, "and then someone punched me, I didn't see what." Marcase tried to move, tried to push the man away from him, but just like earlier, when the Snake had appeared out of the mist, he found that he could barely move.
"Oh, Edward," cooed that voice, "it wasn't someone who hit you... Oh no, you were shown to be a fake, pretending to be sick..." With each quietly spoke word, Philip moved closer and closer to the weakened man. "My God showed me this...Why are you faking , Edward?" Philip let his hand drift across that man's now damp brow. "Did you do all that to yourself just to get close to me? How nice..." Philip let his other hand come up to caress at that pale, sweating face. "Now, you might not need healing, Edward, but other's do, and they need me at my full strength - strength that I will be taking from you."
Marcase remembered what the patient in the hospital had said about Pagent having sex with her to build up his so-called healing energy, and he again tried to pull away, his fear becoming a live thing. "You can't... I can't..." Marcase could feel those hot hands on his shoulders now, rubbing, stroking, touching him.
"Of course I can, and you will - after all, this is why you came here, isn't it? To discover how I do my tricks? My healing tricks? Well, Edward, just think of this as an on hands experience." Philip leaned down, his lips touching Edward's forehead, as his hands started to unfasten the white pyjama jacket that the helpless man was wearing. "I think the upcoming Healing will be a rough one, Edward," murmured the man playfully, his hands busy with the fastening on the white jacket, "so I imagine I'll need all the energy I can get." Philip opened the jacket, letting it lay across the man's outstretched arms. Running his hands down the sweat-slicked chest, Philip lingered over the expanse of trembling muscle, his fingers playing with the slight dusting of hair he discovered. Raking his finger's through that hair, Philip lowered his head and opened his mouth around a fear pluckered nipple. Suckling and nipping, Philip heard and felt the man beneath him suck in a lung full of air. Closing his eyes as he drew into himself everything that this man was, Philip ran his hands up and down Edward's strongly muscled sides. Lifting his head to move to the other nipple, Philip smiled up at the face looking down at him, seeing the fear there and pulling that into himself with everything else he was taking.
He could feel the little moans and groans Edward was filling the air around them with. They echoed through his captive's chest as Philip started to feed on the other nipple. Taking all that he wanted, Philip then moved down to the shuddering abdomen, his touch trailing over and around the bruise that marred the perfect body of this man. Bending over he pressed a soft kiss to the abused flesh, his tongue licking around and around the two oval shapes that had shown Edward's betrayal. "Hmm, you taste so... hmmm, Edward. I wonder if the rest of you tastes just as good?"
Marcase tried again and again to break the hold of the drug, or whatever it was that had him prisoner, but he could hardly move... he couldn't get the man off him! Horror filled him as Pagent touched him, first with his hands, touching, stroking... then with his mouth, open, hot and wet. Marcase felt a fear filled denial rumble up out of his chest and he couldn't stop it.
Philip heard the repugnance in the man's voice and laughed softly, his face buried in Edward's salty skin.
Hearing that laugh and what it promised, Marcase strained with all his strength, trying to heave upwards, to throw the other man off, but all Philip did was tighten his grip. Opening his mouth to yell, to call to the others, he was silenced, his mouth covered with that of Philip's. His stomach lurched as he felt the other man's tongue caress his lips then plunge into his open mouth. That tongue was as unforgiving as Pagent's hands, and it took as much of Marcase's soul as that wicked touch did. Unrelenting hands held him down and no matter how hard he tried, Marcase couldn't gather enough power in his weakened state to get free of the weight of the man on top of him. A hard hand held his weak arms above his head, while the other one raked across his naked skin. The touch of callused fingers twisting his swollen nipples had him moaning in dread and when that hand moved down and squeeze his cock through his clothing, he started to struggle again.
"Pagent, you can't, please..." Marcase had to stop this from happening... he had to... Had to!
"You came here seeking help, help that I could have given to another... Well, now I'll use what you have to help that other, and neither you or your friends can stop that," growled Philip as he squeezed the flesh in hands. "You made a big mistake, Edward, or what ever your name is, coming here, pretending..." Philip pulled at the tie belt off his robe and with a practiced move, he had Edward's up-stretched arms tied to the bedstead. Standing beside the bed, Philip slipped free of his loosened robe, and then pulled off his own nightwear before he kneeled astride the struggling body of his 'guest'. Philip pinched and twisted Edward's swollen nipples, watching the man's face clench in revulsion. "Surely you researched my healing technique, Edward? You must have known that I used my Healed patient's new energy to heal other's?" Philip suddenly changed is touch from hungry to soothing. "That's really why you came, isn't it? You knew you would end up here, like this."
"No, nonono," groaned Marcase, rejecting the whole ridiculous idea, rejecting everything that was happening to him... everything.
Philip leaned down, murmuring, soothing, "You can tell yourself that, my friend, but we know the truth, don't we." Moving his body and hands downwards the Healer pulled and tugged at Edward's trousers. Not even bothering to completely removing them, Philip stared hungrily at Edward's now naked cock and balls.
"Pagent..." groaned Marcase in complete terror, "what the hell are you doing?"
"What I want to, Edward," muttered Philip, his hands lifting the limp cock, squeezing and fondling until it started to fill and harden.
Marcase groaned as he felt his body respond to what Pagent was doing to it. "Pagent, you can't..."
"I can and will, Edward, watch..." Philip lowered his head and licked the swollen cock in his hands.
Marcase jerked as he felt that wet tongue touch him and he cried out. Then he felt something else, and he struggled even harder. Pagent's other hand had ripped away what was left of Marcase's clothing and the man was now kneeling between his spread thighs, wicked hands playing with all they found. Then those tormenting fingers had left squeezing his balls and they had found the ring of muscle. "Christ, Pagent..." wailed Marcase as he felt the man try to slip his dry finger into the opening.
"You're right, Edward," muttered Philip as he lifted his hand and sucked at his fingers, making them wet, before he again probed at Edward's anus. With a grunt, he managed to get a finger through that tight ring of muscle.
Marcase arched up of the bed as he felt Pagent's finger push into him. "Get it out, Pagent... Please! Take it out," he sobbed. "It hurts!"
Philip ignored him and pushed his finger deeper, then he started to pump in and out.
Marcase tried to squirm away from that painful finger... then suddenly he gasped again as Pagent pushed in another finger to join the first. "Ohh, God... Pagent," Marcase almost screamed, "don't, don't... it's wrong... wrong..." Oh, God, help me... oh god, ohgodohgod...
Pagent pushed harder, as he leaned down to nip at the swollen nipples. "Would you prefer me to just fuck you, Edward? I'm sure you don't want it to be any more painful then it has to be..."
Marcase wailed again as Pagent's fingers started to scissor against the tight muscles of his anus. "No, don't, please, don't..."
Philip lifted his head from feeding on Edward's swollen nipples and pushed his face close to Edward's right ear. "Don't you want me to go on with my demonstration, Edward?" Philip pushed a third finger into that ring of loosening muscle. "Just imagine what you can tell your companions about this. First hand..." Philip moved him fingers a little faster, "...experience of the Pagent Healing Magic."
Marcase had his body arched up off the bed, trying to pull away from those hard fingers, trying not to hear that voice, trying not the believe what was happening, what was about to happen to him.
"Open you eyes, Edward." Philip drew free his fingers and the body under him collapsed back onto the bed. "I want you to open your eyes." Moving his hands to cradle the firm muscle of Edward's ass, Philip fondled them, rubbed them, then manoeuvred Edward's body until he had access to what he wanted.
Marcase opened his eyes, blinking the sweat away, his chest rising and falling, trying to breath pass the fear that was a cold lump in his chest. As he met the hot green gaze of the naked man crouched above him, he felt an even greater pain at the opening to his body, and as he opened his mouth to scream his denial at what was happening, Pagent swooped down and swallowed his scream.
Grinding his mouth tight against the man he was fucking, Philip sucked up his fear and pain. The still tight opening of Edward's body at first resisted, and then Philip sunk deep into that hot body. Pulling his mouth free of the shocked man, Philip started to plunge deep, then pull back, rocking in and out of the now motionless body beneath him. Looking down into that pale, sweat streaked face, Philip saw that Edward was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes blank. Shoving in harder, deeper, Philip leant down and bit hard at Edward's neck. "None of that," grunted Philip, "I want you to be here, Edward, not in some other place. Here, feeling this."
Marcase struggled against that voice, trying to pull away from the pain that Pagent was giving him, pain of the body and pain of the soul, but that burning, hungry voice pulled him back to the real, anguish filled world, and Marcase opened his mouth and howled as he felt the invasion of his body.
Philip ran kisses over Edward's face, his hands pushing through that hair, down the man's throat, across his shuddering shoulders, riding the crest of what he was feeling as he rode helpless man beneath him. "Oh, Edward," groaned Philip, "you feel so good... tight, hot... So-damn-good." Kissing Edward again and again, Philip found that the man's mouth was as fascinating as his body.
Tugging and pulling at the bindings around his wrists, Edward turned his head away. "...perversion..." he gasped out when Pagent finally freed his mouth.
Philip, his body moving slower, his thrusts almost gentle, pushed his fingers through Edward's sweat matted hair. "Perversion?" purred Philip, his whole body saturated by the feeling of the hot body beneath him. "Surely pleasure can't be wrong?"
Marcase, now that Pagent had stopped the painful thrusting, was pulling in lungfuls of air, trying to gather strength enough to restart the fight. "Pleasure?" he gasped. Gritting his teeth, Marcase prayed that Pagent would stop this nightmare... but it didn't happen. The man just kept right on destroying him... talking, breaking through to the mind and soul of the suffering man. "Pagent..." moaned Marcase finally, finally, giving up as he felt the pain that the other man was causing him throughout his body. "Pagent, just finish and let me be..."
"Oh, no, Edward. I'm going to make sure you enjoy this as much as I do."
As those words sunk in, Marcase met those green eyes in shock.
And Philip leant down, resting on his elbows, holding Edward's face between his hands and stared deeply into those loathing-filled brown eyes, whispering, "...as much as I will..." and he leaned closer and gently kissed Edward's lips. "Edward, Edward, Edward," growled Philip thrusting harder, faster between each word, "let me show you what passion is all about..." And Philip pushed himself up, so that he was able to get better purchase against the solid body beneath him.
Marcase arched and twisted under Pagent, trying not to feel the shocks of pleasure that were starting to rock though his body. Clenching his fists, twisting them in their bindings, Marcase kept trying to free himself.
"This was wrong! All this was wrong... Men don't..." was all his mind could come up with as Pagent raped his soul along with his body.
Then Marcase felt Pagent's rhythm change... and what Marcase felt as Pagent's cock touched something deep inside him was beyond description. His whole body arched off the bed, and as he opened his mouth to scream his denial, he felt Pagent's hot, open mouth covering his again... And to his everlasting shame, Marcase felt Pagent absorbing the cry of release torn from his ruined soul as his body let loose with it's climax.
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The bed beneath Marcase felt hard, like he was resting on unforgiving stone, instead of the bed he knew he was laying on. The room seemed to be filled with swirling mists, their scents fighting against the odour of s ex that filled his room. Strange sounds echoed through that mist... and a voice pulled Edward Marcase free of the shroud of blackness his mind had finally been allowed to escape to.
"I don't know who you are, or why you're here... All that matters is that you lied and lying is ... is a disease of the spirit. What you need in Healing." And Philip stood beside the bed, the bound man still spread eagled like a sacrificial victim on the soiled sheets. "Healing," he murmured.
Marcase felt the man's hands touch him differently, the heat of that now familiar touch had him shivering in a completely different way then he had only moments before. Through pain filled eyes, Marcase watched as Pagent lifted his right arm in the air, chanting something, a misty serpentine form seemed to twist around the body of the man who had just destroyed him... then that arm slammed down and Marcase felt a streak of pain crash through his already abused body.
"Now you are Healed, Edward," whispered Philip as he leaned over and gently untied those wrists. "Now you belong to me."
And Doctor Edward Marcase looked up at Philip Pagent and he heard Rebecca's voice whispering to him, "Whatever he tells you, do it - and don't be afraid... He's amazing... amazing... amazing..."
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