Measure and Method

Title: Measure and Method (Caprica)
Author: ingrid (ingrid.insanejournal.com)
Pairing: Boomer/Caprica, slight mention of others
Rating NC-17
Warning: BSDM and non-con'ish things abound. Run if this bothers you. This is a smut romp of the bondage kind. I have no idea where this came from, guess I'm in a mood today. ;)
Summary: After the events of the S3 finale, the Cylons change their tactics. All of them.


-*-

Shivering, Caprica wakes in the resurrection tank, disoriented, her wrists bound to the tank's sides with unbreakable cuffs. It's supposedly for her own protection these devices but considering how she died, at the hands of her own, she doesn't feel exactly safe.

Nor does the blindfold tied around her eyes give her much confidence, keeping her blind and without any clear idea of what's going on.

She's cold as well, trembling harder as the tank drains. Soon she's naked and slick and freezing, sliding against the tank's bottom, tugging uselessly on the cuffs.

There's someone else in the chamber, she can hear their even breathing. She turns her head toward the sound, but it moves and Caprica realizes they are circling the tank, slowly ... silently.

Her heart pounds. She's never resurrected like this before and she can feel the watcher's eyes on her, staring at her in a most un-Cylon kind of way.

With shocking suddenness, she's released and pulled to her feet by the cuffs, which are quickly joined together at the wrist. Caprica gasps in surprise and not a little pain, but she's immediately steadied by the watcher.

"Who are you?" she demands. "What's going on?"

She's gagged with a rubber bit for her trouble and terrified, Caprica wonders if the humans have somehow been able to take over a basestar along with its resurrection areas.

Impossible, her logical mind knows this. She also knows the humans were being attacked while she was held in their primitive brig, her last memory being that of the battlestar rocking wildly before an explosion sent her previous body reeling into the airless cold of space. There's no way they could have turned the tide on such a battle, at least not enough to invade the sanctity of a basestar.

No, she is with her own, which somehow makes it much worse. Fear flares, but only for a few seconds. She's with her own and whatever is happening here would become apparent enough. She's safe among the Cylons ...

Isn't she?

She's helped out of the resurrection tank and urged forward, by alternate pulls on the cuffs and cracks to her buttocks, sharp little blows made with something supple and stinging.

A whip, maybe and Caprica wonders at this, her tongue pressed hard against the bit, the questions stuck in her throat. Another stinging smack makes her wince and she trots faster, all ideas of resistance gone.

A moment later she's made to stop and the cuffs are hooked above her head, holding her in place. There's a shock of cold water sluicing over her that makes her squeak behind the gag. Careful hands wash the resurrection fluid from her body, soft fingers smoothing the water over her back and breasts, with almost insulting indifference.

Her hair is washed next, clumsily because of the blindfold and gag, but enough care is taken so that it soon hangs cleanly down her neck. The hand taps at her thighs and Caprica spreads her legs reluctantly, an unfamiliar flush of embarrassment burning over her skin.

She's washed carefully there as well, the same soft hand working the soap and water through her folds and Caprica has to bite back a moan when a finger brushes over her clit, as if by accident.

There's a swift crack to her bottom with the whip at the sound. "Be quiet. This isn't for your pleasure."

Caprica tries to place the voice and can't quite. Before she can protest, she's released again and pulled forward, roughly, her bare feet slipping across the cold metal floor. She almost falls, but is immediately caught.

"Don't want bruises now, do we?" the voice whispers in Caprica's ear before she's prodded along, occasional smacks of the whip urging her on even faster.

There's nowhere to go but forward and Caprica has trouble concentrating, still feeling her captor's hand between her unsteady legs. Her treacherous mind imagines those fingers being plunged deep into her, arousing her even as she's being dragged through the halls of a basestar, no doubt putting on quite the show for anyone passing by.

"There's no one else here," the voice says, as if reading her mind. "They are occupied in another part of the ship. It's a very busy day today."

Suddenly, Caprica recognizes the voice. "Boomer?" she mutters thickly behind the gag.

There's light laughter and the whip comes down again, this time hard enough to make Caprica yelp. "I thought you were quicker on the uptake than that, my friend. But yes, it's me. Now move along."

Caprica's mind spins as she stumbles forward and she trips again, almost crying even though she's instantly caught and it's hardly anything to weep over. They keep going and it seems as though she's been pulled for miles, although the whip has stopped biting at her and she's nowhere near as cold as she was.

They come to a sudden stop. Boomer's hands are surprisingly gentle as Caprica is guided backwards and she's made to sit on something very soft that feels delicious against her stinging bottom.

A bed, she's sitting on a bed and her cunt twitches again. Caprica tries to find her center, her control, but it keeps slipping away, especially when Boomer slowly removes the blindfold.

Caprica has to blink against the light. When she can see clearly, she gasps behind the gag at the sight of Boomer, her hair long and dark, flowing over her naked shoulders and Caprica's surprised to see that she's wearing nothing except a tiny scrap of underwear and long boots, their tops coming all the way up to the middle of her slim thighs. Boomer's eyes are lined with kohl, her lips shiny and gone is the exhaustion and gray pallor that suffused her entire being the last time Caprica saw her.

She looks beautiful and dangerous and for the first time Caprica is frightened. Something has happened here, something she doesn't understand and she stays stock still as Boomer lovingly removes the gag from her mouth.

"Better?" Boomer asks sweetly, as Caprica stretches her jaw out.

Before she can respond Boomer's tongue is exploring her mouth and Caprica can't help but lean into the kiss, her pulse pounding in her throat. She doesn't want to be interested, but she can't help herself and just when she thinks she might give in, Boomer abruptly ends the kiss, pushing Caprica back onto the bed, straddling her and attaching the cuffs around Caprica's wrists to the metal bars of the headboard.

A twitch of pain in her arms but that disappears in an instant as Boomer's mouth closes over one hard nipple, then the other, biting and licking at Caprica's breasts. "I knew you wouldn't stop wanting me," Boomer growls as Caprica writhes beneath her, gasping. "No matter what they did to you."

They. Three and Gaius and Caprica starts at the memory. Gaius, but she's quickly lost again under Boomer's mouth, which dips down to her stomach, her tongue snaking into her naval.

Caprica's legs spread involuntarily and Boomer follows the line of her hair down between them until her mouth is buried there, working Caprica hard, her fingers exploring as well, until she is frakking her with both, her tongue against her clit, her nails scraping lightly at her entrance before she plunges in, twisting her hand until Caprica thinks she's going to scream.

When the orgasm hits, she does scream, the sound echoing off the basestar's walls. Once the dizzying wave is over, Caprica feels a flush of shame creep over her body. Furious at the unexpected emotion, she thrashes again her bonds to no avail, flailing with frustration.

From between her legs, Boomer looks up at her, amused. "Very good," she says, rising to her knees as Caprica glares at her. "I'd hate to think they took all the fight out of you."

"What's happened to you? What's going on here?" Caprica growls. "Where is everyone?"

"A little later," Boomer replies, tsk'ing softly at the bruises starting to form on Caprica's wrists. "You really need to be more patient." Leaning over, she reaches beneath the bed and pulls out a small box. Shakes it and Caprica hears the jangle and slide of something metallic inside.

A few metallic things.

"I think these will help," Boomer tells her kindly, opening the box and pulling out string after string of gold chains, of varying thicknesses.

Caprica's eyes widen. Getting answers is going to take longer than she thought.

-*-

Caprica soon finds herself kneeling on all fours on the bed, a golden collar around her throat, leashed with a chain to the headboard. Her wrists and ankles are likewise bound, loosely, to the corresponding posts, but there is nowhere to go as there is very little slack to the chain that holds her chin up and steady.

There are very delicate links leading from the clamps on her nipples to the collar as well and Caprica gasps every time an involuntary motion tugs at the oversensitive flesh. Her inner thighs are trembling and she knows she's dripping wet, which somehow makes things a few thousand times worse.

Her ass is high in the air, the whip marks no doubt still red against her pale skin. Boomer can't seem to stop touching her, spreading her and running her fingers down the wetness, making little noises of pleasure that Caprica has to bite her lip against responding to.

Occasionally a finger slips into her and Caprica can't help but rock against it, stopping just short of begging for more.

"I love you," Boomer says suddenly, mournfully, before slapping her hand hard against the whip marks.

A flash of pain arcs through Caprica and she sobs. "I loved you too," she protests tearfully. "Please ..."

"Loved me. Yes, I guess you did," Boomer says bitterly, before stalking to a chair and straddling it, staring hard into Caprica's eyes. "So, do you want to know what's happened?"

Sniffling, Caprica nods.

"The final five were discovered," Boomer says simply. "They were aboard the Galactica all along." She laughs shortly. "I was actually frakking one of them and didn't know it. The irony ... it burns, you know."

Caprica gapes at her, no longer feeling anything but the chilling swell of shock. "They ... they were aboard all along." She thinks for a moment and it's the strangest thing, but suddenly, she knows, she knows everything, the programming held in place against such a discovery suddenly gone. "Colonel Tigh," she whispers. "And ... oh, my god, the Chief."

"And three others, two that are inconsequential, one that you'll meet later," Boomer finishes for her.

"They're here? Aboard this ship?"

Boomer's expression is oddly bland. "Three of them are. See there was a little problem when they were discovered aboard the Galactica. Things didn't go exactly to plan."

"Such as?"

"Such as the crew not taking very well to Admiral Adama protecting his life-long friend Colonel Tigh, which was supposed to happen, but the Five thought Adama could wield enough control over the crew to allow Tigh to remain unscathed and among them, with the other four to follow. Unfortunately, that was a miscalculation."

Caprica's mouth turns dry, her fingers curling against her palms.

Boomer shrugs. "It seems that the intrepid Lt. Gaeta led a mutiny, along with Helo and Sharon and he personally airlocked Tigh as well as the Chief. The other three Cylons fled in a Raptor, along with a few of the important humans. But, the plan, our great plan, was wrecked it appears. Who knew little Felix Gaeta had such an awful temper?"

"I did." Caprica replies numbly, her mind reeling. It's all flooding back to her in bits and pieces, coming together with terrible clarity. "Can't Tigh and Chief be resurrected?"

Boomer laughs and it's not a kind sound. "Of course not. Being a Cylon god takes certain, shall we say, sacrifice. They've ascended to the one true God, just as they always wanted to. The other three weren't inclined to join them in such eternal repose, so they humbly begged sanctuary here, in the bosom of the companions they abandoned as unworthy so long ago. We got there just in time."

"And once they arrived, they reversed the mind-wipe programming," Caprica whispers. "I remember them now."

"As do we all and I have to say I'm singularly unimpressed by them." Boomer rises from the chair and leaning over the bed, she kisses the back of Caprica's neck, right above the shiny collar, making Caprica shiver. "Except for one, but it was all her idea to begin with, to become a god and save the human race. I can't exactly blame her for having the same ideals we once had."

"Don't you have them anymore?" Caprica asks. "Don't you want to see the human race survive?"

Boomer's eyes turn dark. "No. That's why I'm in control of the consciousness. It was given to me by all ten that are left. The Cylon Empire is now under my command." Her mouth twists angrily. "The human species is no longer of any concern, except that we will never again be under its thrall, for good or ill. That was the condition The Three were received, it's under that condition they will stay."

A thrill of shock shakes Caprica to the core. "You? But ..."

She has no time to continue, as Boomer's mouth once again swallows hers, kissing her brutally. The little chains attached to the nipple clamps won't stop pulling, making Caprica whimper and she's crying out loud again, especially when Boomer reaches around and slips something into her, something that hums and vibrates against her inner walls. She pulls it in and out, pressing it to Caprica's clit, licking and nibbling at the whorl of her ear as Caprica tries her hardest not to move ... not to scream.

"Don't resist me," Boomer whispers as the vibrator hums between Caprica's legs. "You are mine, just as the Cylons are and I will make you very happy, I swear it, if only you give in to me. Trust me, love. You have to trust, just as I want to trust you again."

I can't trust you ... I can't ... oh God, Caprica wants to scream, but she's overtaken by orgasm, her mouth curving into a long 'o', her body straining against the chains, pain and pleasure curving into one sensation.

Boomer releases her with one last kiss against Caprica's sweat-slicked spine. "Beautiful," she murmurs, sounding very pleased indeed.

"Beautiful," another voice agrees and Caprica weakly looks around to see who else is there.

She's shocked to see Laura Roslin -- the Cylon known as One -- stride across the room toward the bed, high heels clicking over metal floors, her hand reaching out to cup Caprica's flushed cheek.

Roslin bends to kiss Caprica's lips, chastely, before pulling back and admiring her, as Boomer looks proudly on. "So very, very beautiful."

It takes all of Caprica's strength not to faint.

-*-

Bill Adama comes to slowly, blinking his way back to consciousness and trying to move, but finding himself unable to, realizing with a start he's bound tightly to the chair he's sitting in.

He peers through the gloom of what must be the interior of a Cylon basestar, squinting at the familiar figure of Laura Roslin standing across the room, looking at him admiringly.

Gliding over, she smiles and when she cups his cheek, Adama realizes that he might be in a bit of trouble.

The kiss that follows is long, passionate and full of wicked promise and no, check that ...

William Adama is in a lot of trouble.

-*-