Primeval Fanfic:The Rush Of Power

[talliw]

Title: The Rush Of Power
Author: TalliW
Characters: Nick Cutter, Danny Quinn, Captain Becker, Connor Temple, James Lester
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Primeval is the property of Impossible Pictures. I write just for fun.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to Fredbassett for beta-reading. I couldn't have done it without you.
Summary: Danny Quinn goes mad and attacks Cutter. But soon he pays the price for his actions.

Warnings: RAPE
This story might be generally disturbing for people. Anyone offended or triggered by rape should stay away. And also people who can't see Cutter or Danny suffer.

AN: Written for the Primeval Cutter and Danny rape challenge. Well, I couldn't resist doing both. *eg*
Half of the blame for this story goes to Kez, who decided in ARC chat Danny should be Cutter's rapist. I was just following her command in this, honestly.



Trembling with fury Danny stormed through the corridor. He had been so sure he’d finally found his place. Nice people who took him seriously and a job where he was protecting people from real danger and not just from shoplifters, traffic offenders, bullies and occasionally a murder.

But they had tricked him. All of them. Jenny, so sweet and lovely, lying through her teeth worse than any politician, Connor looking as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth and the high and mighty Lester, wearing his arrogance like he did his £2,000 suits. The man even even made it appear as though as he'd been doing Danny a favour.

The rest of the team was just as bad. Abby hadn't even said hello to him this morning, too busy welcoming Cutter. And Sarah had only given him a curt nod before she’d assailed Cutter with more of her hilarious theories.

No wonder Connor had accepted him so quickly into the team despite the fact that he had just lost his friend and mentor. In reality he had known Danny would just be a temporary replacement while Cutter was nursed back to health in a secluded first-class private hospital in Wales.

The door closed with a bang and startled the young lab assistant currently watering the plants that Abby had cultured from prehistoric seeds.

It was a petty feeling but it gave Danny some satisfaction to have such an effect on the young scientist.

Danny leaned heavily against the door frame and tried to get his emotions under control, anxiously watched by the lab assistant. If only everyone would have such respect for him.

Cutter had only been back for one day and had already taken over command, managed to persuade Jenny to return to the ARC and annoyed Lester in a way Danny never had managed.

Danny understood that Cutter wanted his old position back. But why did that mean he had to leave the team after Cutter's return?

Danny would happily have been willing to share the responsibility. All that scientific stuff was a little over his head anyway. As long as he was allowed to go out in the field where the action was, Cutter could take care of the rest. But Cutter didn't do things by half. Apparently he wanted everything back.

Cutter giving him a lecture about the proper treatment of prehistoric creatures and that under no circumstances should modern equipment like choppers be left on the other side of an anomaly, shortly after Lester's notification that Danny was out of a job, had been the last straw for Danny. No one dared to treat Danny Quinn like this. He wasn't a bloody amateur. He had saved human lives umpteen times and faced creatures most people would run screaming from.

Did Cutter and Lester really expect Danny to surrender so easily? He would certainly not just bow to their wishes and go voluntarily. Absolutely not!

Perhaps it was time to clarify who was best fitted to lead the team. He had single-handedly taken on a Gigantosaurus, a bunch of killer birds and successfully fought against a knight, for god's sake. What had Cutter to show in contrast?

Danny turned abruptly around and left the lab, grinning with pleasure when he heard the relieved exhale from the young scientist.

He was going to pay Cutter a visit at home. The things he had to say were better voiced in private. Perhaps without half of the ARC staff for an audience they could come to an understanding after all.

Blood ran down Danny's chin and stained his white shirt. His jaw hurt and his upper lip was already swelling. He glared angrily at Cutter, who seemed a little shocked at his own violent reaction.

Tentatively, Danny swept his tongue over his lip and tasted the sweet-metallic flavour of his blood. The faint stinging from the crack in his lip only fueled his anger.
So Cutter wanted to get physical and have it out like real men? Well, that suited him just fine. Danny had never been one to back out of a fight.

Fifteen minutes into the talk in Cutter's private office Danny had realised the argument was going nowhere. Cutter was too stubborn to concede one little bit.

So he had provoked Cutter deliberately, knowing from Connor that the topic of Helen's affair with his former lab assistant was still a sore subject for the professor.
But he hadn't excepted Cutter to give him a haymaker. In his book, scientists usually didn't have the balls for a fight.

Quickly Danny shrugged out of his denim jacket and placed it on Cutter's littered desk, ready to give the man a run for his money.

He noticed Cutter wanted to say something but Danny didn't give him a chance to speak. He had already said more than enough. The time for words was over.

Cutter stumbled backwards, the force of the uppercut leaving him slightly dizzy. He'd just managed to dodge the next blow as Danny bounced his head forwards and hit him with full force into the face. Grinning triumphantly, Danny backed off and raised his arm to deliver a straight right. But Cutter beat him to it.

The sickening crunch and the flaring pain told Danny that Cutter had probably broken his nose. The bloke was damned good in aiming for maximum damage.

Danny managed to punch Cutter in the mouth several times before he was thrown back by a blow to his stomach and a kick against the shin of the leg Danny had injured only a few days before.

Doubled over in pain, Danny was gasping for air.

The bloody professor was fighting dirty. All right, he could do the same.

From under his eyelashes Danny glared at Cutter who carefully walked closer with an worried expression on his face. Blind rage boiled up in Danny as he saw that Cutter didn’t even have a split lip whereas he was hurting almost everywhere.

When Cutter reached out to him, whether to help him up or harm him again didn't matter anymore, Danny let go of any reservations. Successfully, he landed a kick in Cutter's balls.

Cutter dropped like a stone.

His hands cradled against his aching crotch, Cutter curled up into a ball on the floor. Nevertheless Danny didn't give him any breaks. He kicked him in the side for all he was worth and aimed to hammer his foot into Cutter's kidneys. But Cutter managed to roll away and avoid that assault. He was just trying to get up on all fours when Danny put all of his weight on Cutter's back and forced him flat-out on the floor.

"Get off me!" Cutter hissed with clenched teeth as his aching balls were pushed against the hard ground.

But Danny reveled in the rush of being in control. He grasped a clump of Cutter's hair and twisted it painfully.

Who was the top dog now? The brilliant professor was not so cocky now, was he?

Cutter struggled against the body holding him down until Danny increased the pressure on his scalp.

Wincing in pain Cutter stopped all his attempts and gathered energy for resistance until Danny loosened the grip on his hair. But Danny was prepared for that moment.

Cutter bucking against him in an useless effort to throw him off had created a stir in Danny's loins, something that hadn't happened for what seemed like years, at least not with a guy. Adrenalin was still rushing through his body due the fight and Danny was only partly surprised as he felt himself harden despite his aches and pains. Power was the best aphrodisiac as an old friend had said to him once upon a time.

Danny shoved his pelvis against Cutter to increase the friction, knowing it would only nettle Cutter more. Feeling Cutter's impotent fury was almost making up for his injuries.

Cutter tried to crawl away from under his body now, the movement causing his arse to rub roughly against Danny's growing erection.

"Nice try," Danny grinned.

The next moment a gasp escaped his throat as his cock slid along Cutter's cleft. More blood was rushing south instead of trickling out of his wounds and it made him rock-hard in his trousers.

The mix of pleasure, pain and power was putting Danny in a state of high arousal he’d never reached before. Cutter was at his mercy, completely defenseless. The thought made Danny giddy and instead of pushing back the nasty idea shooting through his mind he reached for the handcuffs on his belt.

Here he was, in control of the arrogant sod who’d dared to take away the job Danny had earned with sweat and blood. Nick Cutter, the man who had belittled him in front of his colleagues and made appear him like a bloody amateur. For once Danny didn't think, he just acted.

Cutter had gone berserk as soon he'd heard the clink of the handcuffs. Danny had seen no other choice but to take him out with a well-aimed blow to the head.

Afterwards it had been fairly easy to strip the pliant body and cuff him to the radiator.

Now Danny was waiting with mounting impatience for Cutter to come around again. He didn't intend to fuck an unconscious man. It was too close to necrophilia for his taste.

As soon as Cutter moved a muscle Danny pushed forwards, the small amount of sunflower oil he had found in Cutter's kitchen cabinet barely aiding the way.

Danny groaned as the blunt tip of his cock breached Cutter's first ring of muscles. Cutter was such a tight fit his anus closed around Danny's cockhead like a glove.

"Don't do this, Quinn. Please, stop it. Stop. Please. Noooooo..."

Danny didn't hear Cutter's pleas over the noise of his heartbeat thundering against his ribs and the blood rushing in his ears. He pulled slightly back and shoved in another half centimetre, his only goal to bury himself deeper in his enemy.

He never had tried taking someone by force, nor had he understood the appeal of the act. But as he slid slowly deeper and deeper into Cutter's unwilling body he felt triumph rising up in his chest and enhancing his pleasure tenfold. He was conquering his rival, utterly. It was the most powerful feeling he had ever felt.

Cutter had given up attempting to throw him out of his body and now lay motionless under him. Occasionally Danny could hear a faint sniffle.

Danny paused, annoyed, and finally pulled out completely. That wasn't what he wanted at all. Cutter should struggle, his arse clenching against the intrusion while he unintentionally pulled Danny in deeper that way.

Danny started stroking Cutter's back up and down in an almost soothing way.

"I'm going to fuck you, Cutter," he mumbled casually. "Riding you like a mare until I'm going to come inside your arse. And you can do nothing to stop me."

His words had the desired effect. Cutter's fighting spirit returned and he struggled against the handcuffs and tried to kick Danny.

Danny skillfully caught Cutter's legs and held them apart as Cutter shouted a string of obscenities at him.

"You have a very dirty mouth. Perhaps I should gag you and bind your legs. Don't want to get hit again, do I?" he muttered, more to himself.

He released Cutter's legs and went in search of some rope.

"Ha, there you are. Always prepared, Professor, huh?"

With contentment Danny surveyed his handiwork. Now Cutter's mouth was stuffed with his own boxers and Cutter's right leg was fastened to the leg of his desk whilst the left was attached to the window handle. Danny almost had run out of rope and had to spread Cutter's legs wide apart to reach the desk.

"You know, Cutter, you look pretty debauched right now. Pity I didn't bring a camera."

Danny knelt down between Cutter's leg's and pulled his arse cheeks apart. For a minute he watched Cutter's hole open and close in the rhythm of the man’s laboured breathing. Then he lined up and slid back into the hot channel. This time the muscle relented quicker and with some gasping and cursing, Danny drove in until he bottomed out.

"Fuck, you're tight! How, ugh, do you, uh, like, my cock in your arse?" Danny asked, grinning like a loon.

In answer Cutter's nails scraped desperately against the surface of the radiator.

Danny started at a moderate pace, savouring every second of the experience until the urge to come overwhelmed his desire to prolong his pleasure.

Panting heavily, Danny pounded away at Cutter's arse, knowing that with Cutter so snug around him he wasn't going to last any longer.

"Yeah, that is it. Fucking son of a bitch, you’re making me cum," Danny bellowed as he neared climax. Forcefully, he grasped Cutter's hips as he shot jet after jet of come into the helpless man under him.

His cock was still in Cutter's arse as he removed the gag from Cutter's mouth.

First there were only infrequent gasps and sniffles, then a trickle ran from Cutter's eyes. Soon he was crying uncontrollably.

Cutter's sobs of despair, of pure humility were music to Danny's ears. His chest constricted with the feeling of power and he started to harden again...

Connor and Becker exchanged a worried look. Cutter hadn't showed up at the ARC and now his front door wasn't closed, as though someone had left in a hurry.
The professor wasn't famous for punctuality but he had never been three hours late without notification. The day before, his second day back at work, he had even been there six minutes early.

Tentatively, Connor and Becker entered Cutter's house, afraid Helen might have found out Cutter was still alive and had returned to finish her work.

Whilst Connor headed up the stairs to Cutter's bedroom, Becker checked the ground floor. He found Cutter in his study room.

With a feeling of dread Connor stepped further into the room. When he saw Becker crouching next to the naked, bleeding man in restraints he closed his eyes in denial. The whimpering mess on the floor couldn't be Professor Cutter. Almost automatically he reached for his mobile and called 999.

Danny Quinn was arrested in the lavatory of London-Gatwick airport six minutes before his boarding was due to start.

There had been enough evidence at hand to proceed with the trial without Cutter's testimony. The professor was still in intensive care and not be able to make a statement.
The Home Office and the police had been equally interested in keeping quiet that a former police officer had attacked a well-known university professor and so the whole affair had been handled with exceptional urgency.

"Welcome to Belmarsh Prison."

"No. That's wrong. They told me I'd get sent to an open prison, if I pleaded guilty and not end up in a Category A," Danny said in agitation as one of the prison guards pushed him into a cell already occupied by two other inmates and locked the door.

"Hello, Danny,"

Danny froze in fear. He knew that voice, had even dreamed of it for months after he had arrested the man for assault, battery and attempted rape. The soft voice had been in such sharp contrast to the burly man it was hard to forget.

"Imagine my surprise when I heard you’d be joining us. And for what for a horrible crime as well. Monster you called me, didn't you? And I hadn't even managed to pop her cherry."

"Do you remember me, Danny boy?" the other man asked and moved into Danny's field of vision. "I told you what would happen if I ever got out, didn't I? And now you’ve come to me instead."

Danny yelled desperately for the warder as both men closed in on him. But the prison guards had already moved out of earshot, busy with making plans for spending the nice money that the well-dressed guy in his elegant suit and colourful tie had paid them for looking the other way when Danny Quinn was making friends with his special cell mates.

Despite the fact that he fought desperately, Danny Quinn was pinned down in a matter of seconds. A fair quantity of brutal punches stopped further defense, teaching Danny he was no longer in control and putting up resistance would not be taken kindly.

With his softest voice, prisoner 1654, Brian Turnbouth, named by the local press The Monster Of Dorchester, told Danny what they intended to do to him whilst Marvin Gayle, who had brutally raped and murdered two young men before he had been caught, divested Danny of his trousers and pants.

"Well, Danny, suck my fingers. Come on, make them wet. That's all the lube you're gonna get."

Hesitantly, Danny began sucking on the fingers held in front of his mouth, trying to soak them with spittle. But out of fear his mouth had dried out almost completely and he could barely produce any saliva.

"That's enough," Brian ordered and withdrew his hand. "Now open your mouth wide. My cock needs lubrication too."

Before Danny could take another breath Brian rammed himself deep in Danny's throat.

Danny had never deep-throated before and the thick cock in his mouth made him gag and gasp for air.

"With a bit more practice you might become a good little cocksucker," Brian mumbled, amused. "Let's see if your arse is good for a fuck as well."

Without any qualms Brian shoved three fingers in Danny's arse to prepare him for his cock. It was more for his own benefit as for Danny's. He had a very sensitive tip.

Brian came before he had even breached Danny's hole, shooting his load in between Danny's buttocks.

"Move over. My turn."

Searing pain raced through Danny as Marvin drove his cock in his body. The rapist hadn't even bothered to use spittle as some means of lubricant for himself.

Danny was rocked forwards by the force of the thrust, his sphincter clenching painfully around the thick head. Despite his attempt to relax his muscles the thick shaft was scraping excruciatingly painfully along his inner walls.

"Yeah, that's fine, Danny boy. Take me in. Pretend you want me, that you’re my hot little bitch in need of a good fucking from your man. Heck, you might even enjoy it," Marvin laughed as he felt Danny going slack.

Suddenly Marvin bent over Danny's back and bit into his neck before he slammed his pelvis so brutally against Danny's backside that Danny was sure he had been split in two.

Danny balled his fists until his nails drew blood from his palms. The temptation to give into tears got stronger with every passing moment but he knew from his former investigations he wouldn't survive the day if he was showing such weakness now. Marvin Gayle hated tears.

So Danny bit the upwelling tears back whilst the heavy man grunted above him with the effort to get inside to the root.

'Just a few minutes more. It’s almost over,' Danny told himself silently. Tomorrow he could make his weekly phone call. His lawyer would certainly clear up the misunderstanding and he would be moved to a D Cat prison as agreed with the prosecution.

The pain only increased as Marvin began to fuck him with long powerful strokes. Almost every muscle in Danny's body went taut and he trembled in agony whenever Marvin impaled him.

Every time Marvin neared climax he pulled out, waited until he had calmed down enough and then started again.

Danny prayed that he wouldn’t pass out before the man had reached orgasm. That was another thing Marvin Gayle didn't like.

When Marvin finally shot a stream of thick, hot cum into Danny's bowels, Danny was so sore he barely could move a limb.

"Well done, Danny boy. Best fuck I’ve had in years."

Marvin pulled out and gave Danny a pat on the arse cheek.

Danny gritted his teeth against the sharp sting as Marvin's hand connected with his abused flesh. His whole body was hurting. At the same time relief flooded him. The horrible torture was over. And he was still alive.

Blithefully, Danny filled in the last word in his crossword and then switched his radio on.

The private cell in Kirkham Prison where he had been moved to three weeks ago, offered enough amenities to get him through his sentence without going crazy. Thank God his lawyer had got active immediately after Danny's call. He even had internet access twice a week here.

If it wasn’t for the still-faint twinging in his arse and ribs, when he moved abruptly, Danny could almost pretend nothing had happened in Belmarsh Prison. He didn't need a doctor to tell him he'd been quite lucky under the circumstances. He knew he had been dead lucky. Only a few people had survived an encounter with Marvin Gayle and The Monster of Dorchester.

The assault had left scars but it hadn't broken him.

"No need to continue hiding it from me. I've already heard it. Eighteen months in an open prison, eh?" Cutter whispered bitterly after Lester had entered his sick room and taken a seat at the far end. "That's all he got. Eighteen months for destroying my life."

Cutter clutched the patient paging system firmly in his hand, still not feeling comfortable being alone with a man in his room in spite of the daily counseling he’d received since he'd snapped out of his catatonic state two and half weeks ago, and Lester had visited him regularly since then.

Silently, Lester regarded Cutter with a unreadable expression for some time before he decided to let him know.

"Cutter, a few arrangements have been made," he said quietly. "I promise you for Danny Quinn his time in jail will seem like hell on earth. A lot of prisoners are keen to get a piece of a former police officer's arse. Quinn’s already had this experience after an inadvertent transfer to a maximum security prison."

Cutter shuddered as he imagined what had and might still transpire with Quinn. Once he would have objected to Lester's radical actions. But that had been a lifetime ago.
With his villainous deed Danny Quinn had taken away from him more than his dignity and self-esteem.

"Several of the men interested in Quinn are drug addicts and might also be HIV positive."

"Good," Cutter just said and locked eyes with Lester, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

A week later in Kirkham:

Spreadeagled, laying on a bench in the prison washroom Danny begged for mercy. But the five men, lining up to have their turn were immune to his pleas. DC Quinn hadn't shown any mercy to them either.

One after another used Danny's body to find release, not caring that blood soon trickled down Danny's legs and that he was whimpering in pain.

A young prisoner with dilated pupils, barely old enough to vote, asked in a soft voice, almost similar to Brian Turnbouth's, "Anyone up for another round?"

It was the last thing Danny heard before he passed out.