Daniel walked into the BDSM club in Denver with a sense of anticipation. It had been more than three months since his first visit and he was overdue, tense, and in the mood for a very specific type of action. After several hours spent chained to his teammates in an off-world hellhole, he had in mind to turn the tables and regain some of the power that had been taken away from him.
A willing victim, some tight ropes. Stern silence; threatening, even. Dominance and authority and nobody messes with Doctor Daniel Fucking Jackson, thank you very much.
Bondage was what he was interested in, and it was also the safest way to indulge the residual anger he was carrying around in his gut. First he would check out what was happening around the club, watch for a while, and see who presented themselves for his approval.
Maybe someone young. Young and pretty, still tender, without the toughened skin of a regular who practically lived in clubs like this one.
Jack had tough skin. The cuffs that had bruised Sam’s wrists and abraded Daniel’s had barely made a dent on his. Teal’c had had Junior to heal his damage, but Jack hadn’t been damaged at all, really.
The leather flogger that was coming down on his ass now was going to leave marks, though, Daniel registered with the small part of his brain that hadn’t seized up in complete shock at the sight of Jack O’Neill, naked, blindfolded and on display under a spotlight in a room half-full of men who whispered and touched themselves and watched.
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branchandroot
"How It All Might Have Begun"
Date: Jun. 30th, 2008 03:46 am (UTC)A willing victim, some tight ropes. Stern silence; threatening, even. Dominance and authority and nobody messes with Doctor Daniel Fucking Jackson, thank you very much.
Bondage was what he was interested in, and it was also the safest way to indulge the residual anger he was carrying around in his gut. First he would check out what was happening around the club, watch for a while, and see who presented themselves for his approval.
Maybe someone young. Young and pretty, still tender, without the toughened skin of a regular who practically lived in clubs like this one.
Jack had tough skin. The cuffs that had bruised Sam’s wrists and abraded Daniel’s had barely made a dent on his. Teal’c had had Junior to heal his damage, but Jack hadn’t been damaged at all, really.
The leather flogger that was coming down on his ass now was going to leave marks, though, Daniel registered with the small part of his brain that hadn’t seized up in complete shock at the sight of Jack O’Neill, naked, blindfolded and on display under a spotlight in a room half-full of men who whispered and touched themselves and watched.
Daniel watched, too.
Spellbound.