Delightful Education of Julian Bashir, The · Part 2 (2/3)
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His eyes took some time to adjust to the light level, and he wondered how long he had been unaware of his surroundings. A trickle of their mingled sweat that had once seemed so hot drew a sensuous icy line down his side, and he caught his breath. Turning his head took every ounce of energy he had, and he saw that his arms were still tied in the cords — cords that had become frayed and strained through his thrashing.
Every muscle in his body was sore. His stomach, his legs, his arms especially. His abdomen and thighs were stiff and refused to respond to his orders — particularly with the prone form of his Lady asleep on top of them. Still feeling the exhaustion, he sighed and dropped back to sleep.
When he woke, he was alone in the bed and completely unaware of how much time had passed. In a panic, he tried to sit up, and found that he was yet bound. Sounds issued at him from the next room, and he called, "Lady?" The sounds stopped, but there was nothing further. "Lady, are you there?" She appeared in the room, with no boots and no gloves, but dripping wet, her muscular body glistening with water.
"You are awake," she observed.
"Yes, Lady." His voice was gentle and quiet. "May I get up?"
"Of course." She reached to the knife, still stuck in the wall op- posite the bed, and with two quick flicks of it over his head, he felt the cords fall away. Stiffly, he moved his arms back down to his chest, trying to rub at them and finding that his hands were rub- bery and weak.
"I was in my spa," she told him, helping him sit upright. His head swam and lights danced in his vision. "Would you like to join me?"
Sheepishly, he replied, "Lady, I don't think I'm ready… " but she shook her head at him.
"It's only a nice warm soak. You could probably use it." She helped him to his feet and guided him into the next room, where a lavish spa greeted him. Steam hovered on the surface, swirling gently like fine mist over a lake. The spa itself appeared to be set into a lush green lawn and was ringed with fragrant jasmine, and rolling fertile hills stretched toward the horizon as far as he could see, some dot- ted with trees in autumn colors. A fresh cool breeze caressed his tired face and washed the scent of the improbably flowering jasmine over his bare skin. "A holosuite, Lady?"
"Yes. Expensive, but as I told you, I cheat quite well." She climbed into the water, and made a motion to him to follow. He did so, lowering himself gratefully into the steaming spa. Slowly, he felt the stiffness disappear from his muscles, to be replaced with a weak lassitude.
"How long have I been here, Lady?" he asked.
"Only a few short hours," she told him. "Six hours. You are due back on duty in six more." Purring with pleasure at the gentle breeze that tugged her hair and his, she told him. "It is a slow time now. I will be finished instructing you by then."
His eyes widened. "There is more?"
She laughed at his question. "Of course there is more. You didn't think I could teach you everything in one lesson, did you?" She stretched like a contented lioness. "As it is, I must leave tomorrow and hence can teach you only a little of what I would like to." She opened her eyes. "I can arrange to be back at this station in some time, you know."
He looked back at her, the warm water lapping at his shoulders and around his chest. "I don't know if… " He swallowed. She reached over and patted one shoulder.
"The first lesson is most involved, as it is then that I must teach you proper submission and willingness to learn. Subsequent ones become more and more… leisurely. There are only a few small things further that I can teach you in the time we have at any rate, and they should leave you considerably less… "
"Exhausted?" he finished.
"Precisely. After all, you will have to go directly on duty from here."
He swallowed again, wondering what would be required of him, and settled for remaining quiet and lowering himself into the blood-warm water until only his face was above the waterline. Nearly an hour passed with them like that, silent, simply content in each other's company and enjoying the sensation of the water rippling against their skin. At one point, he felt a light tickling on his face and opened his eyes. He saw her hand over him, her face smiling at his, as she sprinkled a handful of the tiny jasmine flowers over him. He could only return her smile, and closed his eyes again.
More time passed. "Lady?" he said finally.
"Mmm?"
He hesitated. "Lady, Quartermaster only gives us a certain number of uniforms in a given period of time. I can't have another one des- troyed."
She laughed at this. "Don't worry, you won't need your uniform, Doc- tor." She sat up. "That reminds me." She rose from the water. "I have something for you." Julian watched as her sinuous shining body moved to one of the trees lining the glade in which the spa was set. He saw her pick something up but could not make out what it was. When she returned, she bent down next to him and held the object out.
Dark blue, soft, and shimmering, it lay in her hands. It was a col- lar. Attached to it was a long beautiful silver chain that glittered in the holo-sunlight, and dangling from the end of the chain were two more binding cords like those that had cut his flesh in the first lesson.
Julian sat up at this, and looked up at her. "This is…?" he began, but she cut him off with a finger against his lips.
"This is yours," she told him, "the only thing that will be recog- nized as yours as long as you are on this ship." He felt the soft kid leather wrap around his neck, and heard the tiny click of the fastening. The chain and binding cords lay on the ground behind his head. He fingered the collar, mark of his bodily duty to his Lady and watched her as she lowered herself into the water again. "It is your mark of allegiance to me. By undergoing the initiatory lesson, you've proved your worth to receive the collar." He was silent at this. "It's actually a nice fit; I had to use a smaller one than usual for you." She leaned forward and touched his face. "You have such a lovely slim neck, you know." Her hand dragged down his wet chest, disappearing under the water that covered him. Again, his nerve endings awakened to her.
He knew then that he would have stayed, no matter what, and endured even more exhaustion than previous, all for her and what she could teach him. He moved his hand under the warm water, taking hers in it, and said, "Lady, I'm yours," and felt it with all his heart.
She looked directly into his dark eyes. "I knew you would be," she whispered to him, and kissed him, the first and only kiss they had shared while he was free, and the last. He returned it, gently, and felt his own sincerity and dedication to her filling him like wine.
Then, she pulled away from him, one hand firmly on his chest to keep him from following. He held her eyes with his own, gazing up at her. "Enough informality," she said softly. "This could compromise your disciplining if it continues." Julian was crestfallen but under- stood.
"Yes, Lady," he said, and could not keep the disappointment out of his voice. He shivered as he felt her fingers brush against his skin one last time and withdraw.
He knelt on the bed this time, sitting on his heels and facing the bronze headboard between the sturdy wooden posts at the corners. His Lady was reaching past him to lock the chain of his collar to a ring at the center of the headboard; he wondered whether it had been placed there for that purpose. "Give me your hands," he was told. He complied silently, for she had instructed him that he was to make no sound whatsoever during this lesson. That order alone was enough to unsettle him, and he wondered with some trepidation what she would teach. He asked no questions, though — he was not to do so.
His wrists were once again bound, this time to the end of the chain at the headboard so that they hung in front of him, mimicking the curve of the hanging chain itself. Wordlessly, he awaited her ac- tions. He was unprepared for her to get up without a sound and walk out. Turning his head, he saw her disappear into the next room, and she did not return for some time. He waited nervously, wondering what she was doing, until he saw her return with a tray of food. The aroma tantalized him, and he remembered that he had not eaten before coming there. His stomach awoke, and he stared at the tray with ob- vious hunger, hunger that his Lady saw.
"Would you like some?" she asked, taking a small piece of meat from the tray, a piece which dripped with juices, and putting it with very deliberate movements into her mouth. He started to say yes, but re- membered her injunction against talking and only nodded, his eyes riveted to the tray. "Very well." She walked toward him and sat on the edge of the bed to his left, placing the tray next to her. On it, he saw all sorts of delicious things, each cut into pieces. There were meats of all textures, crisp-looking vegetables of every color under any sun, and pieces of fruit that glistened with sweet- ness, as well as a number of delicacies which he had never seen be- fore.
Saying nothing, his Lady picked up a piece of tender meat and held it to his eager mouth. Saying nothing, he opened his lips and took it, feeling the rich juices of the flesh coat his throat. With a feeling of great satisfaction and great awakening of hunger, he swallowed, closing his eyes in pleasure. When he opened them, he saw that she had taken another piece and held it out for him. He took it from her again, languidly sucking the meat's juices from her fingers. Over and over she held out some tasty morsel for him, and over and over he wished he had the power to thank her for doing so.
The melon, however, she saved for last. Holding his gaze with hers, she picked up a royal blue piece and ran it sensuously down his back, leaving a sticky trail of sweetness from the back of his neck to the base of his spine. He inhaled sharply at the delight of the cool glistening melon running down him, and even more so as she traced up the sweet trail with her tongue. With a small smile, she popped the piece into her mouth. Then, picking up another, she teasingly traced two slow circles around her rosy nipples, enjoying the anticipation in his eyes as he watched. With an expression of triumph, she held her breasts together and nestled the little morsel of blue heaven between them.
This she offered to him, who took the piece between his lips and marvelled at its sweetness, licking every drop of nectar from her when he was finished. Again, he wanted to tell her how de- licious this was, but could not.
"Your expression tells me that you are enjoying this," she remarked. The tray was deposited on the floor next to the bed, and she placed herself behind him, her hands on his shoulders, her knees around him. He felt her breath on his neck as she came close, and shivered once, all over, at the thrill of anticipation that ran through him. He had no idea what she had planned.
She waited, doing and saying nothing, merely sitting there with her hands on his shoulders and her mouth against his neck. For many long minutes, they sat like that, he unsure and nervous with anticipation, she silent and knowing, enjoying the gentle curve of his back and how his skin was lit by the faded flame lamps, their glowing topaz light pouring over him like melted butter. He felt as her slow hands ran down his sides, her fingers flickering over his skin, making his sto- mach muscles twitch.
She was content to do this, experiencing his body under her hands, tracing his spine with her fingertips, tracing the curve of his neck and shoulders, the smooth clean shaven skin on one cheek, the line of his brow, teasing her fingers through his hair. Julian sat quietly, wordlessly, simply listening to her breathing and his own, and feeling her hands brushing and sliding all over him, gentle as birds' wings, making him gradually aware of the entire surface of his body. With a jolt of excitement, he felt her fingers brush over his genitals, but they lingered there only for a moment.
"Patience," she said lovingly, for she had seen his start, felt it as she pressed herself softly into him, heard the soft clat- ter of the chain against the headboard. He turned his head, wanting to apologize, but could not. "I know," she told him softly.
Then, almost unnoticeably at first but with more conviction, he began to feel her nails also sliding over him, just as before, all over. Again, he started and writhed, inhaling sharply, but became quite still when he felt the collar tugged back firmly. "Not a sound," she told him. "I want complete silence." Then, she resumed, and Julian fought for all he was worth not to gasp or cry out as he felt her nails exciting his skin, in his most sensitive places — his sides, the hollow between his hips, his waist, his inner thighs, his neck. He could not suppress his body's reaction totally, though, and she felt him buck against her at her every movement, though he was fight- ing not to.
"Yes," she whispered into his ear as he battled to re- main still and quiet, "it's hard, isn't it?" He nodded, and could not help a light whimper from low in his throat; she did not seem to mind. "It will get easier, I promise you."
And this continued. Slowly, slowly, he began to control his body and his involuntary reactions, only biting his lower lip — until she saw this, and placed her hand on his mouth. "No." He parted his teeth, and she smoothed the reddened skin. "Gently, gently. Relax." He tried to still his panting, aware of the sound of it. "Relax." He felt the nearly unbearable sensation of her skittering nails lessen somewhat, but they did not stop entirely. "Do you have control of yourself?" she asked him. He nodded completely silently, and she resumed.
This time, although he was still fighting hard, she saw that he was fighting himself better, managing to remain for the most part completely still and silent — except for his light panting. She could feel his chest rise sharply with each pass of her hand over the insides of his hips, but even his reflexive bucking had lessened until it was merely a tightening of his back, a slight rhythmic pressure as she felt his round buttocks seat more firmly between her thighs. "You're doing very well," she told him approvingly and kissed the back of his neck.
"You learn very quickly, and try very hard." She rose at this point until she was standing on her knees and, with one finger under his chin, tilted his head back until he was looking directly up at her. The kiss they shared then was as deep and complete a kiss as Julian Bashir had ever experienced; she was as far into his mind as she was between his lips.
Then, it was over, and she was once again looking down at him. He saw in her eyes a glimmer of wonder, and until she spoke, he truly thought it was only the wonder in his eyes reflected back from hers. "How I wish," she said in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear it, "that I could keep you always." Her fingers were on his brow, and he gently shook his head back and forth like a cat under its keeper's hand. "How I wish… Goddess… what a consort you would make." She bent down to his upturned face and brushed her lips against his, not kissing. As they caressed one another's mouths, she reached down to his genitals, taking them gently in her hand, and felt him inhale.
Opening her eyes, she saw that his entire face was a pleading question. "Yes," she replied. "Soon." Then, she resumed kissing him for a time — she kneeling superior to him holding him in her hand, he kneeling before her with his head upturned. He felt fluttering fingers as she traced out the lines of his throat and sighed in pleasure as he felt her other hand caress and excite him.
Thus, all the more vivid was the jolt he received when she raked her nails down his back hard enough to raise welts. His head flew up- right and he started to twist away from her before remembering that she still gripped him firmly enough to keep him still. An expression of shock and surprise flew out of his mouth before he could shut his lips around it. Belatedly, he realized the breach he had committed — his voice and the clattering of the chain dropping into the si- lence like a stone — and his eyes shot to her face. He did his best to quiet his panicky breathing and still his body, yet trembling in surprise and shock.
She felt his trembling, could feel it through her own body, close as she was to him, could feel his shaking on her own bare skin, but did not let it show on her face; she was impassive. Before he knew what was happening, she had clamped her left hand over his mouth and drawn his head back hard until it was against her shoulder and he stared up at the ceiling. For a time, she merely held him that way, silently, and waited for his breathing to slow and the film of cold sweat on him to dry. His eyes looked up at her from over her hand, filled with apprehension; her other hand still held him. Nothing moved, and not a single thing stirred. Only his breathing, slowly regulating, disturbed the quiet.
Then, painfully, she shook her head. Her disappointment nearly crushed him. "I thought you were relaxed sufficiently to begin, Doc- tor," she said sadly, her lips against his ear. "I see I was wrong." He started again at this, and tried to shake his head. This time he was able to suppress the beseeching noise that he almost made, but wished he had not. "I was trying to teach you… " She shook her head again, released her hold on him, and relaxed her hand over his lips. Frantically, he turned his head and pressed them into her throat, not saying a word, silently begging her to continue teaching him. His hands were fists, his arms taut against the cords that held them.
The hanging chain alone was slack and relaxed, swinging slowly as she watched and as she felt his breath against the skin of her neck. "I should not offer you another chance," she told him, and felt as he pressed his mouth into her neck harder, fondling the skin there with his tongue, pleading wordlessly. Firmly, she pushed him away, ignoring the straining in his body to remain close to her. "You are here to learn, Doctor," she stated. "You are beautiful, but I cannot allow you any more breaches in discipline." Her expression appeared to soften as she looked into his large eyes.
"If you were any less beautiful, I would already have put you out and ended the lesson." At her words, his face became anguished and he bit back each word, wanting to throw himself at her and beg her not to stop, wanting to feel her warm skin against his, her lips on him, even her nails, the raw touch of which was delight compared to the empty coldness he felt.
"My time away from my home world has eroded my ethics," she finally remarked, almost conversationally, and she stroked his face. She said nothing for several seconds, then whispered to him as if she were afraid the walls would hear her, "I find that I cannot put you out. It appears that I am the one in chains, Doctor." The glimmer of joy in his eyes pleased her, deep within herself. "But, I must insure that discipline be maintained. If you remain, you must be punished for this breach." Again, she felt his lips against her neck in silent gratitude — silence not counting his eager breathing, the soft liquid sounds of his lips and tongue against her skin.
She stood, and walked out into the other room again, leaving him to wonder what form his punishment would take, leaving him to tremble in mixed joy and fear at being allowed to remain in her care at a price.
The flame lamps went out, leaving him in complete darkness. He looked around himself wildly, the metallic noises from his chain dropping into the stygian darkness like tiny bits of broken glass.
A glimmer of flickering yellow light ran over the bronze headboard, ruddying it and him, and making his kneeling shadow jump and cavort over the walls with a freedom which he did not now possess. He turned his head, and saw his Lady return, and his heart leapt. He tried to move toward her, but the collar restrained him and he felt it tug him back into his place. He could see only the barest portion of her — her face and hair, her hands, the upper crescents of flesh of her breasts — from the long red taper she held, lit and flickering like something alive. She was wearing her boots again, and her gloves, and he could hear the cool tapping of her heels against the wood floor as she came wordlessly to the bed, to where he was waiting, apprehensive and unsure of what was to come.
"You will be silent, Doctor," she told him, placing the taper down aside the bed, and he saw her take something out of the thigh of her boot.
It was a gag. He swallowed at the sight of it.
"I would not wish to use this, but evidently, it is needed," she told him. "It will be tight but not uncomfortably so." She knelt behind him once again, and he felt the band of cloth go around his mouth — saw it only by the jumping dark shapes on the wall where a shadow woman reached around the neck of a defenseless shadow man and fasten- ed the cloth over his lips. The ends were tied firmly, and he was silenced. Again, Julian swallowed and felt himself begin to sweat. He shook once, all over.
She saw it. "This will be slightly painful, but may not be unplea- sant." He turned his head at her words, and saw her pick up the ta- per and kneel again behind him. "Lean forward," he was told. He did not, but tried instead to twist away from her, looking with fear at the flaming candle. From over the gag, she saw his eyes, lit by the candle flame, watching her — awaiting her actions.
"Lean forward," she repeated, taking a handful of his dark hair and pushing his head toward the headboard. He could not resist, and was gradually pushed until his bound hands pressed against his brow. He was shaking.
A sparkling spot of heat awoke the nerves on the skin of his lower back; he jumped and inhaled sharply at it, but before he could react to it, the heat was gone.
Another little stab of heat sprang to life on his left shoulderblade. He tried again to squirm away from it, but his Lady held him fast by his hair, and he could not move.
Another — this time on the back of his neck. It was quickly follow- ed by yet another in the middle of his back. As the bed undulated in reaction to his starts, little hotspots began tickling and alighting all over him, dancing like fingertips all over his supple, trembling body. He was inching his way closer to hug the headboard, but then felt a finger inserted into the band of cloth around his lips, and his head was pulled back roughly until it rested in the crook between her shoulder and neck.
The little fingertips danced all over him once more — punctuating the skin on his jumping chest, running down his neck, tracing lines along his tense belly and thighs, running all over him, running their heat all over his skin. He felt an unbear- able line of liquid heat trickling down his shoulder, and bucked and squirmed in his Lady's arms. She pulled his head back ever more firmly, and he felt a line of heat drawn down his neck, from chin to sternum. It continued down his chest and over his belly, and he twisted in panic, not wanting it to go further.
He gasped as he felt it gently touch his tightly curled ebony hair, and then it was else- where, drawing hot thick lines against his hips and waist.
Then, the pressure on his neck was gone, and the presence of his Lady was gone with it. She was gone, vanished, into the mysterious other room after having placed the burning taper at the bedside. He looked down at himself as he tried to catch his breath and saw spots and trickles of the scarlet wax all over his body, but could think only of the return of his Lady.
She did so, peeling one glove off with slow and deliberate movements. Before he knew what was happening, she leapt onto the bed with him and pushed him flat into the headboard, the engraved and hammered metal cold as ice against his bare skin. He did not have time to react before he felt a stinging crack against his buttocks, one that pushed him even harder into the hard metal. A gasp and sound of shock squeezed itself past his gag, closely followed by another as the same harsh sting radiated from his buttocks and ran up his spine. It was joined by another, and another, and soon he was gasping and moaning — trying desperately to quell the moans — in time with his Lady's punishment.
With a jolt, he realized that he was beginning to grow hard and stiff, realized that he wanted her to swallow him yet again, even while she drove her hand over and over into his soft skin, even while the crimson wax now solidified on him cracked and splintered with his gyrations. It went on, seemingly forever, until he felt raw and the once icy headboard seemed like fire against his chest. The pounding had taken on a rhythm of its own, until his entire being resonated with her every stinging blow, until every movement he made — even the beating of his heart — had become synchronized with her punishment.
And then it was over, and she was gone from behind him yet again, leaving him to slump against the headboard, exhausted and trying to catch his breath. After a time, her voice came from a far corner of the room. "Have you learned?" With effort, he turned his spinning head to look in the direction of her voice.
In a regal-looking plush chair, high backed and covered in the ubi- quitous dark leather, she was seated with her long black-encased legs crossed, regarding him like an ephemeral judge in the dim halflight. For several moments he could not muster any reply at all, could only imagine what she saw when she looked at him like that; again he was the cub or the gazelle, shivering and defenseless, and she the pre- dator. He looked down at himself again — his skin in the dim can- dlelight the same color as the metal headboard — and saw the broken traces of wax all over his body. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and nodded, still feeling the tingling aftereffects of her blows.
"You have?" she asked, idly running her index finger up and down her sternum. Julian tried to read some emotion, some hopeful sign, in her face and failed. "I hope you have. There is little time left for us now until you must return to duty, Doctor, and I can't afford to waste any more trying to teach you to hold your tongue."
He lowered his eyes, wanting to convince her that he could be trusted to keep silent and learn.
She bounced one leg forward a few times, considering his kneeling form. "I think," she said as she unfolded herself and got up, "that we will retain the gag. Just to be on the safe side." At the sight
Delightful Education of Julian Bashir, The · Part 2 (2/3)
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