I've re-done this chapter again. (September 2013)

Warning: this chapter contains non-consensual male/male sex (ie rape.) Skip if you think it will upset you.

Disclaimer: I don't own star:trek or these characters (obviously) and I'm making no money from this, it's just for fun.


Weyoun had been speaking for several minutes and Dukat was for the most part tuning out the words. Instead he watched the Vorta's pale lips move. His voice - insipid, soft - was an irritant. He wanted him quiet. Now.

Almost before he knew what he was doing, Dukat had pinned the small alien against the wall of the conference room.

Violet eyes stared up at him, opened wide in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Shutting you up."

"If you kill me the Founders will simply activate my next clone," Weyoun said. "You will have achieved nothing." Despite the words there was a trace of fear in his voice. His body felt tense beneath the Cardassian's hands, like a string about to snap.

"I'm not going to kill you," Dukat replied. Smiling wickedly, he trailed a hand along the Dominion ambassador's smooth neck. Weyoun appeared profoundly uncomfortable and attempted to pull away. The thought occurred to Dukat that he had rarely - if ever - seen a Vorta engage in physical contact. Was it taboo for them? He rather hoped so; that would make this all the more enjoyable.

His fingers had found their way to Weyoun's collar. Carefully he slipped a hand beneath it, feeling the soft skin. The Vorta flinched. Dukat smiled. Then - violently - he ripped the garment open, exposing pale flesh, smooth to the touch. Lowering his head, he bit hard into a patch of skin just beneath the collarbone. Weyoun gasped. "Dukat, stop this!"

"No," he replied. There was little force behind the words, it wasn't needed. He was the one with the power here and both of them knew it.

He ran his tongue along the milky white surface, found a small nipple and bit down for a second time. Weyoun was struggling to pull away but the Cardassian easily held him in place.

"Stop this... stop immediately!" There was no hiding the panic in his voice now.

"Or what?" Dukat asked, his tone silky smooth and thick with amusement. "You'll go running to your 'gods'? Do you actually think they'd care?" He laughed. "You're nothing to them - a disposable, replaceable tool." He slid a hand down Weyoun's trousers. The Vorta tried to get away but Dukat shoved him back into a wall. His cool scaled hands slowly made their way between legs and over slender hips, pressing with enough force to bruise. Weyoun's face was turned away, his eyes shut. Small sounds of distress forced their way from his throat as he tried to block out what was happening. Suddenly Dukat forced a finger inside the smaller man.

"Why are you doing this?" Weyoun gasped, his breathing erratic.

Removing his hands from beneath the clothes Dukat struck the alien swiftly across the face, knocking him to the floor. "Shut up!" he spat harshly. Confused and frightened violet eyes looked up at him, slightly glazed, unable to clearly see the other man's face at this distance. His lower lip had split. The contrast of the crimson blood against his pale skin was beautiful.

With one hand gripping the shoulder of the clone's torn jacket, the Cardassian pulled him to his feet. Pushing him face first into a table he pulled his pants down to his knees. Hurriedly he freed his own erection from his constraining garments. Weyoun tried to get up but found himself slammed back into the hard surface. A delicate bone fractured and he cried out. Dukat pushed violently inside him, eliciting a strangled sound of pain and shock.

The Cardassian groaned in enjoyment. This felt so good. At last he'd wiped that smug smile off the little Vorta's face. He'd show him who was in control here! He slammed in further, pining Weyoun to the table with one hand. Dukat's breathing was harsh and his eyes grew unfocused with pleasure as he continued to pound into the smaller man. Finally, with a contented moan he ejaculated and pulled out. With nothing holding him in place Weyoun fell to the floor. Dukat sank into the nearest chair and watched with amusement as the clone tried to pull his torn clothes back into their proper positions. His cheeks were stained with tears and his hands were trembling. As he stood and started towards the door, the Cardassian's smile only grew.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"I have work to do," Weyoun replied, with only the slightest hint of a shake in his voice.

"It can wait." He stood and in a few short strides was next to the Vorta. "You can't go running around central command looking like that... entertaining as the thought might be. People would talk." With mock friendliness he put an arm around Weyoun - who flinched - and steered him away from the door. "You'll have to stay here until curfew starts." He pushed the smaller man into the chair he had just vacated. "Sit." Two wide lavender eyes stared up at him. Dukat had to resist the urge to throw the Vorta to the floor and fuck him again. Instead he walked to a computer terminal mounted on the wall. "Dukat to Damar."

"Damar here sir."

"Come to conference room two." He glanced at the Vorta. "I have something here you should see."

"On my way sir."

Weyoun made no further attempts to get away but pulled his legs up onto the seat as though he could hide behind them. Several minutes passed in silence. Then the doors slid open and Damar entered.

"Damar, behold our esteemed colleague." Dukat failed to suppress a laugh. Weyoun wished he could disappear.

Damar moved closer, stunned. There was bruising on the Vorta's face, blood on his clothes and the smell of sex in the air. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened. He looked at the Dominion Ambassador. With his chalk-white skin and tiny form – emphasized by a chair far too large for him – Weyoun looked doll like. And irresistible.

He looked to Dukat. The older officer nodded his approval, motioning him forward. The Cardassian pulled Weyoun from the seat and made him kneel on the floor. The Vorta flinched when Damar tilted his head upwards to examine his features. They were delicate, appealing. He opened the trousers of his uniform. His penis fell free, already erect and emerged from his cochlea. "Open your mouth," he instructed the small alien. Weyoun obeyed, by now too frightened and confused to do anything else. Damar thrust into the moist space. The Vorta gagged and tried to pull away but the other man held him firmly, nails digging into his ears and drawing blood. Tears streamed down his pale face. He thought he would suffocate. The organ shoved down his throat was scaled and hard and it was too big. It hurt. He couldn't breathe.

Damar's movements started to become more erratic until, with a final push, he came. Hot flesh smothered Weyoun's sob.

Dukat watched and found the scene before him eminently arousing. His member stirred once again and he reached inside his trousers to stroke it slowly. The Vorta was shaking – arms wrapped around his head as though he was trying to hold his mind together. Dukat smiled and standing, kicked him hard in the side, then again in the stomach. Placing a boot over one of the alien's hands he slowly applied pressure until he heard the fragile bones snap. Weyoun cried out and tried to curl into a ball on the floor. Straddling his chest Dukat stopped him. "Do you still think you're the one in control here?" he asked, looking down into frightened, almost blind eyes. The Vorta was beyond answering. Dukat laughed.