Captain Proton in Jeopardy
by Lianne Burwell

January 1999

Captain Proton, Defender of the Universe, crept carefully through the dark passageway, his trusty ray gun in his hand. It had taken a lot of work to track down Colonel Dastardly and he didn‘t want to lose the man. God only knew what nefarious scheme he was hatching up in his underground lair on Planet Z.

Why did villains always have lairs on Planets with single letter names, he wondered to himself, then shook his head, refocusing on the mission.

He was on his own on this mission. Buster was still recovering from his last run-in with Demonica and Malicia, the Twin Mistresses of Evil. They‘d proven how well they deserved that title, torturing poor Buster with feathers, implements and a variety of dairy products. The poor boy was an exhausted wreck.

The good captain smiled to himself. But what a way to go.

From around the corner he could hear the hum of machinery, and the smile disappeared. He had reached the lab where the Colonel‘s hench-scientists were preparing a device so powerful that it could destroy a small moon, robbing a planetful of lovers of walks on moonlit beaches, trysts in dark gardens and all the other things that full moons were meant for.

Proton eased up to corner and cautiously poked his head around to take a look.

And saw stars as something struck the side of his head. Then he saw nothing at all.

* * * * *

When he came to, Captain Proton found himself in a most unfortunate position. His arms were cuffed above his head, held there by a chain attached to a hook in the ceiling. At least there was enough slack in the chain to allow him to stand on his own two feet, as opposed to dangling above the ground. He twisted his wrists, seeing if there was enough space for him to pull his hand through. There wasn‘t. However, he noticed that the cuffs were lined with some sort of gel-filled padding, making them both comfortable and non-chaffing.

"Ah, Captain. I see you‘re awake at last."

Proton twisted, looking over his shoulder to find Colonel Dastardly standing behind him, leaning against a doorway with a glass in his hand and a sneer on his face. He was dressed in his trademark military uniform, which he filled remarkably well.

Dastardly stepped into the room and locked the door behind him. "There. We would not want any... disturbances, now would we?"

"Whatever you‘re planning, Dastardly, it won‘t work."

The Colonel threw back his head and let loose with a deep, rich laugh that sent shivers down Proton‘s back. Whatever the man was up to, he was confident.

"Oh, but it already has, dear Captain. You see, the rumors that led you here were planted by my people. There is no moon-buster ray."

Proton‘s eyes widened in shock. "This was just a trap?"

"Exactly! And you walked straight into it. Hardly an intelligent thing for the so-called Defender of the Universe to do, don‘t you think?"

Proton didn‘t answer, he just rattled his chains in disgust. The Colonel‘s smile grew wider, and he sipped from the glass in his hand.

"All right, so it was a trap," Proton spat out finally. "Now what?"

"Now what?" Dastardly echoed, pacing in a circle around his helpless prisoner. "Considering you‘re at my complete and total mercy—and I have none, by the way—you might not want to know the answer to that question."

Proton glared at him. There was no point in responding to that little declaration. He‘d wait the man out, then get to the lockpick tucked inside his sleeve cuff. He‘d be out of here in no time at all.

"But first, let‘s make sure that there‘s nothing you can use to get loose," Dastardly continued smoothly. Setting down his drink, he picked up a small device. A flick of a switch, and a glowing blade came to life.

"Now hold still, Captain. I wouldn‘t want to... slip."

With that ominous statement, Dastardly proceeded to cut all of Proton‘s clothes from his body. He ground his teeth in frustration, but didn‘t make a move. An energy blade would cut through anything, and he didn‘t want to be gutted.

Or worse yet, castrated by a slip. He held back a shudder at that thought.

Finally, Dastardly stepped back, grinning at the sight of Captain Proton, naked and chained. "It‘s a good look for you, Captain," he leered.

Proton turned his face away, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of reacting to the jab. He just wished he knew what the villain was up to. Why the elaborate trap? At least Buster was safely out of this.

Dastardly leaned back against one of the banks of computers, picking up his glass again. Looking carefully, Proton now saw that the complicated controls were just a cheap mockup, and cursed himself again for falling into the man‘s trap.

He waited long moments, watching the man sip his drink, then gave up. "So what are you really up to?"

Dastardly smiled again and put down his glass. "What I‘m up to is teaching you the folly of opposing me. You cannot stop me, after all, so why try? Especially when the... rewards are so much greater if you join with me."

"No reward would be worth it!"

"Are you so sure about that?"

Dastardly stepped forward, invading Proton‘s personal space. He tried to pull back, but the chains wouldn‘t let him move very far. Dastardly‘s smile widened, and suddenly his hands were cupping Proton‘s face, pulling him into a kiss. The villain‘s tongue forced its way past his lips, invading every part of his mouth. Proton tried to bite down, but thumbs pressed down on his jaw, forcing him to keep his mouth open.

When Dastardly finally stepped back, they were both breathing heavily. Looking down, Proton could see that the riding breeches that were part of the man‘s uniform were straining as a bulk pressed outwards. Proton shivered, and closed his eyes to keep from seeing.

"Still need convincing, dear Captain?"

There was a slapping noise, and Proton‘s eyes flew open. Dastardly still stood in front of him, still showed his arousal. But now he held in his hand...

Proton gulped. He was holding a wide leather strap.

"I will beat you, Captain. One way or... another."

The Colonel moved around Proton until he was out of sight. Proton‘s breath caught, and he braced himself.

He gasped at the first blow. And the second. And the third. Again and again, the strap fell.

But after a half-dozen strikes he realized something. The blows weren‘t intended to cause harm. They stung like hell, but they weren‘t painful. Instead, his back blossomed with warmth. Against his will, Proton began to relax.

With a start, Proton realized that the blows had stopped. His eyes flew open to see Colonel Dastardly standing in front of him, a smirk on his face.

"Enjoy that, Captain?"

"Of course not!" he replied confidently.

The smirk grew wider. "This doesn‘t agree with you," he said and reached down. Proton‘s face went as red as his back when he realized that he was hard.

"You‘re mine," Dastardly purred into his ear, making him shiver. "You just need to... learn that."

Proton‘s face went as red as his back when he felt his traitorous cock twitch in the villain‘s hand. Dastardly chuckled again, then stepped away. Proton bit his lip, a voice in the back of his mind protesting the loss of that oh-so-warm hand.

"Never," he hissed, but a slightly breathy quality to his voice robbed it of its confidence.

Dastardly smiled broadly and stepped to a cabinet at the side. "Still need convincing? Perhaps this will change your mind."

He turned around, and Proton felt all the blood drain from his face.

The object that the Colonel held in his hand was phallic in shape, but the resemblance to the anatomical model ended there. The black object was huge, much larger than anything that would be found on a human male. It had a wicked curve, and was covered in short, dull spikes. In the gleam of the overhead lights, it glittered with malicious intent. Proton‘s mouth went dry and his ass-cheeks clenched in abject terror. The villain wouldn‘t...

Dastardly moved behind him, and he felt a cold presence press against him.

"No!" he screamed, twisting in his chains to escape the obscene device.

"What‘s wrong, my dear Captain? Wouldn‘t you rather take this than surrender?" Proton‘s mouth opened, but nothing came out. "Or would you prefer the alternative invasion?"

"Alternative?" He was so terrified that the squeak in his voice didn‘t even register in his mind.

"Alternative," Dastardly purred, blowing warm air past his ear. "Choose, Captain. This." He jabbed again with the hard object in his hand, and Proton whimpered. "Or something... else. One will breach your fortress this night, so choose."

Proton caught his breath. Dastardly was not telling him what the alternative was, but could it possibly be any worse? Proton chewed at his lip, and made his choice.

"Anything is better than that. The other." He was proud that his voice didn‘t waiver.

"A wise choice, Captain." He could almost hear the smile in the villain‘s voice.

Proton closed his eyes and tried to relax. If he stayed tense, there could be damage done. He waited for what would come, and prayed that he hadn‘t made a grave mistake.

Grave.... Oh, very funny. Gallows humor, anyone?

He was so busy critiquing his thoughts that he almost missed the first touch. Warm and slick. Large, but slightly yielding. Then it was gone.

Two hands grabbed his hips, and a foot kicked his legs apart, effectively lowering his height. Then the pressure was back, even more insistent.

Proton gasped, quickly understanding what was happening. He dropped his head, and forced himself to relax further. The slow pressure continued, and Proton opened up until he felt Dastardly‘s belly pressing against his back. The villain held still.

"See?" came the voice in his ear. He was pleased to note that Dastardly‘s voice wavered slightly. "Is this so bad, dear Captain?"

Proton didn‘t answer, but a series of quick thrusts forced a gasp from Proton. A hand left his hip and moved around to grasp his own manhood, stroking it expertly.

That was the last straw. Proton cried out, and started thrusting back and forth between the impalement and the stroking. Behind him, he dimly heard the Colonel cursing and groaning. Then the grasp tightened, and Dastardly froze.

Proton whimpered as the man slipped out of him, already softening. He was so aroused that it was almost painful, and he hung from his chains. Behind him, he heard heavy breathing, and the sound of a zipper being done up. Then Dastardly moved back to in front of him.

"Why, Captain," he said with a smug smile. "You seem to have a... not-so-small problem there. Would you like me to do something about it?"

Proton whimpered, and nodded.

"No, Captain," Dastardly said, shaking his head. "Not good enough. You must ask for it."

Proton whimpered again. He couldn‘t. He mustn‘t. He...


Dastardly moved forward, still staying just out of reach. "Are you mine, Captain?"

Proton held his breath. A single finger reached out to trace a line along his aching need, then moved away. He sobbed. "Yes!"

"Are you sure? Who do you belong to?"



"I belong to you!"

"And only me?"

"Only you!!"

Dastardly smiled, the widest smile yet. Proton sobbed, waiting for something. Anything.

Then Dastardly moved forward, and in one smooth motion he sank to his knees in front of Proton. Then a warm mouth engulfed him and he cried out.

He was so close to the edge that it only took a few moments of suction for him to reach satisfaction, calling out a name. Then he slumped, allowing the cuffs to support all his weight.

He looked up, his head very heavy, into Dastardly‘s face.

"Yours," he whispered.

* * * * *

"You are so kinky, Tom. So, did you enjoy yourself?"

"Oooooh, yeah. I think that Colonel Dimples should make an appearance in future chapters."

"You mean Dastardly."

"Whatever, Chakotay. Whatever."


NEXT TIME: Captain Proton ON Jeopardy! Just what does that evilest of men, Alex Trebek, have in store for our daring young hero. Tune in, same Trek channel, same Trek time. (Just joking folks. No Trebek-slash here)