Delightfully Deplorable

*Disclaimer* Contains adult themes

Weyoun circled the human female sitting in the chair before him. He clasped his hands behind his back and stopped behind her. She flinched and Weyoun could see her fingers distinctly grip her dark slacks a little more tightly. Her face had gone pale, and from the glistening moisture dripping down the side of her face, he could see that she was either crying or sweating.

The Vorta neared the chair and placed his hands onto her shoulders. They felt small and frail compared to his own. He felt her stiffen and come to rigid attention.

"Why so glum?" he said, icing his voice with the same poetic silk that he used on all of the annoying Federation humans who irritated him with their presence. Weyoun wasn't a particular fan of humans. They were intoxicatingly stubborn and foolish. They had no place in the Dominion and he was glad to know that the Founders agreed with his silent sentiments.

Still…his hands lingered over the woman's small shoulders. There was something about this one. She didn't have the same false sense of entitlement as her counterparts. The Ensign had actually cowered before him! Oh, how delightful that was!

A soft wheeze escaped from between her pale lips.

"Crying, are we?" Weyoun smirked, taking perverse pleasure in the obvious fear he was causing the creature. He allowed his fingers to crawl over her shoulders, feeling her coarse uniform along the way. They stopped just before her neck, above her chest. Weyoun leaned close so that her stringy hair brushed his face.

"You are quite fascinating and I do believe I will do the Founders a favor by examining you….What made you break? The Dominion could use such vital information on the inner human psyche. Wouldn't you like to be a part of that glorious victory?" A low laugh rumbled from his throat as he moved around the chair. He stood in front of her.

Her body trembled and she stared into her lap. Her white hands gripped either side of the metallic chair that he had set her in hours earlier.

"why-why-would-I," she stammered. Her voice was quiet and soft. Had Weyoun been anything other than a Vorta, he wouldn't have been able to hear her speak. A leer pleated his plush lips as he gazed down at her. "-give-give-you-anything-that-would-hurt-my-people?"

He watched her body tense.

"Oh, I see…" he rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. She's just as stubborn as the rest. But what made her so afraid earlier? He had to know. Whatever it was could possibly be exploited on the human species as a whole.

"You-you-might-as-well-kill-me."

"You are not a Klingon, though, I hate your species just as much." Weyoun said with a snort. "No, I am not going to kill you when there is information to be had. I can terminate you later; after I am finished."

The woman let out a sob and she jerked her head in an effort to meet his eyes. Her green eyes briefly met his before casting themselves back down to her lap. Her ashen face became slick with the onrush of tears.

"Interesting…" Weyoun neared her and knelt in front of her to watch. The woman shoved her hands into her face and began weeping. Weeping! The foul little wretch is weeping when just a second ago she was as defiant as any other human! He watched, and his eyes glinted with malicious glee.

"What do you fear, human?" he purred, masking his delight at her plight with the expression he normally reserved for diplomatic matters. It was what humans had called "poker face." He kept his gaze steady and formed his mouth into a thin pleat.

She continued sobbing. Some of her tears were starting to drip between her shaking fingers. Weyoun came closer and placed his hands onto her legs. He knew she would mistake his interest for concern. Humans were foolish like that. They were too trusting. He caressed her legs with his fingers. Her trousers were stained and caked with dirt.

"Human?" he said softly, cocking his head to the side as he watched her cry. "Have you been fed the wrong impression of the Dominion?" He continued to speak in his soothing, diplomatic tone.

The incessant sobs halted almost instantly. She stopped shaking. Weyoun lifted his hands and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrists. He pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes were weary and set in dark circles, evidence of her exhaustion. She must be losing sanity. She hasn't had rest for four days.

She opened her mouth, but no words came. Weyoun smiled at the motion, amused by it. He was starting to like this game.

"Well?" he prodded.

"I-what's going to happen to me?" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"I am not sure yet…." He looked over her.

"Please, just kill me. I know nothing! I'm just an Ensign! I-I-I please!"

"Why are you so eager to die? You humans do not have eternal life as we Vorta do. I find this intriguing. Do tell me more."

"You Vorta!" she shrieked. "Treacherous, evil, vile creatures!" Her hands jerked, but Weyoun held them firm. "Fine, poke me! Prod me! Dissect me while I'm still alive! FINE! JUST DO IT AND GET IT OVER WITH!"

Weyoun pressed his face closer and started laughing.

"Oh, you poor deluded fool," he snickered. "But do go on. I am quite entertained by this."

"Stop playing with me! Just do it already! I know that's what you sick Vorta do! You have a lust for disturbing things! You kill your own men and laugh at it. You smile as you walk over their dead bodies!"

"Oh, this is just priceless!" Weyoun continued laughing. He gripped her wrists tightly, almost snapping them. His groin moved and began to harden. That's never done that before… He looked to the far wall and shifted. The organ was pushing against his pants, begging to be let out.

Weyoun found that he liked it.

The feeling was pleasant…His eyes darted back to the woman. A sadistic leer spread across his waxen cheeks.

"Dissect you? I think not," he said smoothly. His groin tingled with desire…So this is what it's like to have a lust for mating…He stared at her face and watched her bite her lower lip. Her precious tears poured down her cheeks, and she emitted another sob. Weyoun nodded. He'd be a fool not to explore the art of mating that so many species in the Alpha Quadrant were obsessed with.

"I'm not going to kill you…that is, if I enjoy myself. Human, what is your name?" He stood up, still holding her wrists in his hands.

"Oh god, he's going to torture me!" she screamed.

"Not if I enjoy this thing I'm about to explore…"

"And what is-" She whipped her head upward to meet his gaze, but her eyes stopped at his torso. Her green orbs widened and a sharp gasp escaped her swollen mouth. He let go of one of her wrists and touched his index finger to her lips. He rather liked the way they looked.

"Vorta," she whimpered.

"My name is Weyoun. And yours?"

"Lina…"

"Lina, how would you like to be a slave to a servant of the gods?" He arched an eyebrow, smiling and laughing as he spoke. Before she could respond, he pulled on her wrist, forcing her to her feet. His arms were instantly squeezing her small frame and pressing it against his chest. He felt her breasts press against his uniform.

"Be a good little slave and I'll keep you. Do not comply and I will happily oblige you to one of the many genetic laboratories the Dominion has to offer. I enjoy being cruel…I consider it quite the pleasurable pastime, especially when it involves humans."

"Oh my god," she breathed. He felt her body quiver. Weyoun closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His fingers dug into her back, causing her to yelp. He pressed his groin against her body, still digging his fingers into her back.

"Are you going to comply? Or shall I snap both of your wrists and break your ankles?"

"I-I-I-don't-I-" He watched her shut her eyes. Oh, of course; the annoying self righteousness of her species. How dreadfully tiresome it was. He sighed impatiently and let go of her. Weyoun grabbed the front of her tunic, dropping his mask of serene diplomacy. Malice was there instead.

"I'll comply!" she shrieked.

"That's better." He lifted one of his hands to her chin and cupped it. She stared up at him, still trembling. Weyoun leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. They felt soft and warm, and they were as every bit as pleasant as that dim witted Dukat had said they would be. Dukat had hinted that Weyoun should...play with his prisoner. Weyoun pressed his mouth against hers and parted her lips with his tongue. He was no fool. Although he had never engaged in such behavior, he knew what to do and of how the other solid species mated.

His groin brushed against her pelvis, sending vibrations throughout his body—the feeling was sensual and alluring. He kissed harder and dug his fingers into her hair. He grabbed a tuft of it as he continued to force his harsh kiss on her. His tongue danced with hers; possessively and in charge. The Founders wouldn't have it any other way, he mused silently.

"This is most enjoyable," he whispered, breaking the embrace. The human inhaled, breathless, as she looked up at him. Her eyes had a strange, half-lazy daze to them.

Weyoun smirked.

"Enjoying yourself as well?" He arched a handsome eyebrow, still smirking. Lina flinched. Weyoun rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Your human need to claim self righteousness is truly sickening." With that, he kissed her again. The Vorta moved his lips along her jaw line and held her small frame tightly against his chest.

His fingers crawled along her back in a feverish effort to explore. A hiss of a breath escaped the woman's lips when he moved his mouth over her neck, near her earlobe. Weyoun gripped the dark, coarse cloth of her uniform tunic and used his Vorta strength to rip it down her back. He quickly moved his hands and jerked it off of her shoulders, exposing her milky skin to the dim lighting of the room. He held her tunic below her breasts, keeping her arms locked in place.

"Kiss me," he demanded. Lina exhaled. The woman was still shaking. She brought her face up to his and brushed her lips against him. "You can do better," he whispered. Her soft lips met his. They trembled as she moved to kiss him. He let her open his mouth. She did it slowly—methodically, and Weyoun took pleasure in it.

He slid her tunic off of her arms. It hit the floor with a soft rustle. His fingers grazed against the bare skin of her arms. He traced invisible lines into it, connecting dots to nowhere until he was drawing soft circles in the warm skin of her back. The smooth texture nearly drove him mad. Lina's lips smacked against his in a hazy rush as she pulled away from him. Weyoun watched, cocking his head to the side, as she stood there teetering on her feet.

"Human, don't deny the joy of it." He brought his arms around her waist and drew her near. His groin felt as though it was throbbing just as wildly as his heart had lurched when he, Weyoun 5, was first activated. It yearned for the alien's touch. Such an insatiable lust!

He slid his hands to the band on her trousers and wiggled his fingers below it. Her rump felt just as smooth and satisfying as her back. He squeezed both cheeks. Lina issued a high pitched yelp. Weyoun lifted his hands out and traced the band to the front, where he unzipped it.

"Look at me," he ordered, bringing his icy blue eyes to her green ones. She complied and was no longer shaking in fear. Weyoun smiled, a genuine notion, and placed his right hand down the front of her unzipped pants.

"This is most agreeable, my dear," he purred as his fingers found their way to that spot that Dukat had so lovingly talked about. Most humanoid females had it. His fingers felt warmth and moisture. This only made his groin want it more. The woman uttered a soft moan and touched her lips against his neck.

He held her firm by putting his other hand on the lower half of her back.

A few strokes, and they melt like Terran butter! was the phrase Dukat had always used when he'd shamelessly boast of his misgivings. Weyoun was finding himself enjoying it more than he should. His fingers wiggled inside of her, pressing hard and roughly. She swooned and her body swayed to the deft movement of his fingers.

Up, down, sideways, and in circles, his fingertips went. The woman's moans grew more frantic. He felt her lips touch his elongated ears. Founders! Her tongue waltzed over the light ridges in it. Oh Founders, I feel like an insolent Ferengi. Weyoun's pelvis shifted of its own accord. He moved in tune with the uncontrollable movements of the human. He shot his fingers inside of her with such force that she screamed. I don't want to kill the creature. Not yet anyway.

"Don't stop!" she howled when he drew his hand out.

"Don't stop? Well, well, isn't this a fascinating turn of events." Weyoun thrust his hands deep inside of her. He shut his eyes, allowing his mind to focus on the wet, inner parts of the woman. He liked it. He liked every bit of it. The woman's moans grew into half crazed shrieks. Her body jolted and she clutched the front of his uniform. Wetness, which felt like an excellent, ancient bottle of Cardassian Kanar, spilled over his fingers.

"Oh, you naughty little human!" A low rumble emitted from his throat. He chuckled as she nearly collapsed into him. He pulled his hand out and lifted it to her face. Her lust glistened over his fingers, almost shimmering in the light of the room. Weyoun lightly touched his other hand against her bare chest. She fell backwards onto the floor before him.

"Lay still," he said quietly. Weyoun crawled over her and put his mouth over her left breast. Dukat had talked about this too…The Vorta winced at the foul image the Cardassian had left in his wake. I do not want picture him right now…no thank you. He lathered her luscious mound of a breast with his tongue.

It poured over her, pausing at her erect nipple. Weyoun placed the entire of his mouth over it and suckled. He felt the woman arch her back. A pair of weak hands buried themselves in his hair. He moved to the other breast and blessed it with the same, lengthy and luscious kiss he had given the first.

His mouth moved away from it, kissing down along her body until he reached where his fingers had been earlier. He parted the soft, outer layer of skin with his lips and pressed his tongue inside. His senses tingled at the sudden taste of her. She had the same saccharine taste as a ripened q'lava fruit from his home world; one of the few foods that the Founders had permitted his people to enjoy…

His tongue dove into her as though she was the personification of his favorite fruit. A feverish hunger took over, and Weyoun momentarily forgot himself. His hands gripped her hips as he indulged himself. The woman thrashed about. Her airy voice moaned to him.

The erratic echoes of her calls only made him lust for more. His body broke out into a hot sweat. The wet beads pricked his neck. Weyoun grunted when the woman literally screamed. He tore his face from her, and in a quick motion, he unzipped his pants, kicking them off to finally release his wanting groin. He paused briefly to regard the woman. She was staring at him with wide, cloudy eyes. Weyoun threw back his head and laughed. Such control I have! Though, it pained him to admit that he went crazy at the taste of q'lava fruit…

He crawled over her and slid his hands beneath her back. She groaned and kissed his mouth. Her hands tugged at his tunic in desperation. Weyoun stared into her eyes and seemingly trapped her there. She froze and he put his mouth over hers, kissing her roughly.

Weyoun impaled himself into her. She shrieked. His groin met her inner most part. It was wet, and fit tightly around his member. He let out a moan of his own at the sheer ecstasy of it. Never had he ever felt anything like it. He dug his fingers into her back and thrust his pelvis, driving into her deep and hard. Relentless were his movements, and they brought him immense delight. She wiggled beneath him, still moaning as though bewitched by him.

"Oh Founders," he snickered. "This is simply—" He exhaled and sucked in a sharp breath. He moved faster in swift, yet smooth motions. His member was hot. It wanted more. He wanted more. Her feminine parts squeezed him and he went harder. She was but a slave to him! His eyes nearly rolled to the back of their sockets, but he held his wits. There was only so much he'd allow himself to give in. He was master; not she.

Weyoun flipped onto his back, holding onto her tightly.

"Please me!" he cried. The human settled herself over him. Up and down her luscious body went. Her breasts swayed and bounced to her frantic movements. She slid over his member. He watched with delight. She was lost; her mind had to be a blurry cesspool of confusion! Weyoun laughed again as she rode him like a fiendish Bajorian Pah-wraith.

The woman howled and Weyoun felt her wetness spill over him. His member exploded with its own sort of warmth. He let his arms drop to his sides and he laughed as he had never laughed before. He moaned loudly. Lina collapsed over him. Her chest heaved.

"That was most fulfilling," he murmured. Weyoun shut his eyes and placed one hand over her head and the other around her neck. "But the Founders would not be pleased to know I had…hmm, how shall I put it….Ah! They wouldn't appreciate me losing myself like that. So, your use is done, little slave."

Weyoun's hands worked swiftly. The snap echoed against the empty grey walls of the interrogation chamber.