Delightful Education of Julian Bashir, The · Part 3 (3/3)
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of her walking toward him, Julian felt his heart leap. For the thou- sandth time, he cursed the bonds that held his wrists fast to the bed, wanting to take her and hold her, plunge himself into her as deeply as he could — soul to soul. He was not to be put out; she would continue!
She saw his happiness, and it stopped her for a few moments. His Lady only looked down at him as he gazed up at her; she could read the joy in his face, and it appeared to touch her. The ungloved hand raised and patted his cheek over the gag, and her expression became infinitely tender. "None have been so eager before… " she told him quietly, her voice gentle. She stroked his hair. "Perhaps I was too harsh with you. None have ever wanted to please me so much." She smiled at him, and her other hand moved to the gag. He felt it loosen slightly, and it dropped to his chin. "Only for a few mo- ments, dear Doctor." His beautiful Lady leaned forward then, saying, "I wish I could keep you," and kissed him as tenderly as he had ever been kissed. He tasted her sweetness and wanted very badly to match it with his own.
The kiss deepened, and he lay himself mentally bare to her as she probed into him, threatening to touch the secret sensitive places in his mind and soul, the places he had barely dared to recognize him- self. She was everywhere, all things to him, and he fervently wished she could take him into herself — physically and mentally — for- ever. Then contact with her lessened, and the gag slid back into place over his lips. Without a word, he understood. The lesson must continue, and he would not breach protocol this time; he would die before disappointing her again.
She stepped back from him and stood silently, appearing to consider something. "Maybe we need a… brief rest." Her hands were on her hips, and she looked down at him with great affection — watching his eyes over the gag and the way they caught the spare candlelight. Light and shadow flickered over him, coating him in a neon butterscotch glow that jumped like a live thing, skittering all over his bare skin — illuminating first the nestling space between his beautiful neck and shoulder, then the gentle S-curve of his back, then the taut and graceful arms and legs, folded under him as he knelt.
She watched as it ran itself through his dark hair, casting fiery highlights in its depths, sketching out the waves and the tight, damp curls that ringed his face and neck. For a moment, she almost loosed the gag completely, so badly did she desire to see his fine, delicate lips in the halflight of the candle, but she restrain- ed herself, knowing that the gag must remain, and that her own train- ing as an Ishtarian teacher would be too severely compromised were she to follow this impulse.
She chuckled to herself, low in her throat. "You would make me cast aside my training, Doctor, all for your beauty and my own desire." She placed one flat palm against his hard, healthy belly and sighed. He made no reply to this, with voice nor eyes but only remained looking at her, awaiting her. "I must finish instructing you in relaxation and control first. After that," and she toyed with the tightly curled jet hair between his hips, "I will be able to instruct you only in one more technique, one in which every man should be well-versed." An enigmatic smile. "After all, when the time comes for you to please your next partner, you may not have access to kamireh."
Next partner? With a shock, he realized what she meant. His head whirled at the thought. How could he have, or want, a next partner? He looked at her, lit by the flickering flame, and shook his head. You are my partner, my owner, he told her silently. You possess me now — and always. His deep eyes were transparent and honest, and she read everything she had to in them, and was dismayed by it.
"No," she whispered gently. "You must take others, my beautiful Doctor. You must." Her statement was met only by slow shaking of his dark head. She saw his slim chest rise in a sigh, and saw the devotion and fear at her departure shining out of his eyes. "You cannot remain here, and I cannot have you wait only for me. I am your teacher, not… " and her expression softened. "I am sorry," she told him. "I cannot take your fealty." His fists tightened. "I cannot," she repeated urgently. Her hand went to him then, alighting on his sharp smooth cheeks like a feathery fan. "Doctor," she said with great intensity, "how could I keep you from others?
How could I live knowing that you were not my consort but would take no other?" Her fingers fluttered down to his jaw. "There will be others, Doctor. And I cannot live knowing that I have taken you from them." He tugged fiercely at his bonds, desperately wanting to tear the gag from around his mouth and give voice to what he was feeling, take her and disappear in her, inside her moist enveloping flesh — thrust himself into her as deeply as he could and never come out, never leave the deepest embrace he had ever known. He leaned his head back and moaned, agonized at his inability to tell her this.
And her eyes dropped at this moment, as she regarded the devotion she had inspired. For a brief time, she leaned forward and forgot herself. Julian saw the opportunity and took it. Throwing up his left arm, he brought it down over her shoulder and caught her at last, feeling his tortured muscles cry out as he pulled her tightly to him, so tightly. Her back was to the headboard, and she was between his arms, her own wrapped around him as they pressed their bodies together, feeling flesh against warm flesh, moistened by excitement.
Her hands ran over him, all over him, and she could feel the outlines of the tense slender muscles and tendons over his back and shoulders as he clutched her, feel as well the spots and curls of wax all over his skin. Her face was against his neck, and she felt as well the tickling damp curls of his hair, moist with his sweat, running over her cheeks. Wordlessly, she moved her right leg around his hips. Wordlessly, she embraced him thus. "You are yet in your bonds, Doctor," she said, almost to herself. "I do not break training.
You are yet in your bonds." And she pulled her head back, to see his eyes, his large amazing eyes, shining clear and intense with all he was feeling — dedication, arousal, smoldering desire.
And he plunged himself into her.
She only inhaled at this, her own very dark eyes wide. Fiercely, she tightened her legs, embracing him in the leather and her own body as she felt him in her, deeply. Against her own skin, she felt his stomach tensing and relaxing, pulsing as his hips drove into her, thrusting. Her hands flew to his head once more, her fingers tightening in his hair. He felt her tugging urgently at the knot at the nape of his neck, then felt only her mouth on his, her tongue between his lips, thrusting as deeply into him as he was into her. Her hands were around his neck, around the collar, pressing him into her as she devoured him madly.
The chain from his collar cut into her shoulder; she barely felt it such were the hot fiery sensations exploding all over her. Her lips which Julian's own tongue had parted, the skin of her breasts and stomach as she felt the slick wetness of his taut body against hers, his round lovely buttocks soft between her thighs, and the folds of her flesh, wet and sensitive and embracing, that took him in, feeling his every movement, his every frantic thrust as he lost himself in her.
She felt icy metal at her own back and his fists at her neck and realized that she had been backed into the headboard, pressed into it as Julian pressed into her. At first, she tried to push him away, her hands at his driving hips, but then told herself — He is yet in his bonds. He is yet bound. Her head fell back, and his mouth was at her neck, then her shoulder. I am not breaking training, his or mine. He is bound. His hands grasped her hair firmly, tightly; she could not move her head. He is yet bound, she told herself again. He is still in his bonds. She felt the pounding as he drove himself into her, wildly.
Opening her eyes, she saw him — eyes closed, jaw clenched, his body shining and taut as wire, unreasoning, unthinking, and realized the horror she was allowing to occur, the damage she was doing to him. Firmly, she placed her hands against his hips to hold them away from her, hold them still, but such was his energy that he easily overpowered her with his wild thrusting. "Doctor," she whis- pered but he did not hear. The only response was a sound low in his throat as he buried his face in her damp hair, a sound halfway be- tween moan and howl.
His thrusting continued, and she realized that she had to stop him now, before his training was ruined forever, before his wild im- patience to unite with her overrode his tenuous training in control. "Doctor!" she cried, and this time got a wordless inarticulate reply. She finally grasped his pounding hips with a grip of iron that took all her strength, stilling them completely. For the first time since the initiatory lesson, she felt him seriously struggling against her, pushing with all his might to overcome her hands and drive into her harder and further. His eyes were wild and unreasoning as he looked at her; were he coherent they might have been incredulous. As it was, he could only stare at her, fighting her hands, tightening his embrace around her, trying with everything he had to be inside her again. After a time, he found his voice.
"Lady… " It was urgent, its inherent softness obliterated by his mad desire. "Please, Lady, no… " The words came faster, tumbling out. "Please… please let me be inside you again…" Panic began to surface. "Please!" he cried and began fighting her strong hands again, pushing his hips forward as his body strained to be close to hers. "Lady, please… " he begged. She shook her head.
"Not like this." Her voice was a whisper, edged with her own frus- tration and desire, and anger at herself.
"But Lady, why?" was all he could ask, all he could plead. His fists became ironlike rocks.
"Doctor, I can't!" she hissed. "I already nearly destroyed your training with my stupidity. I've nearly thrown away all my own training because of my own shortsighted desire for you." She paused to get her own breath back, fighting her own wanting, wanting that she hadn't felt since she had completed her training as teacher. "I can't let that happen!" His skin was slick and wet; one more thrust would wrench his hips out of her hands, and he would be in her again. She tightened her grip on him until her nails dug into his soft skin. "Doctor, I have my vows to think of… "
"I want you," he whispered back to her, his eyes roving over her face, his mouth closing on hers until she felt his breath. "I just want you… "
"You are here to learn control," she replied. "This," she nearly waved to indicate both of them until she remembered that she dare not move her hands, "is not control… "
"But Lady," and his voice dropped until she felt she would melt from its sensuous intensity, "I don't want control right now… " He ran his mouth over her neck, so lightly and exquisitely that her hair began to stand on end. She felt his tongue at her throat, at her pulse, and shivered. "I want you… "
"You'll have me, and I you," she told him. "But slowly, slowly." She inhaled. "Please, Doctor. This is not as it should be."
"It should be… I should be… inside you, Lady." If she had thought his eyes burned before, it was as nothing compared to the fire in them now. "Forever."
Her heart convulsed. "Would you leave the Fleet, your position?" He was silent at this. "Would you give up all that you have now for something you do not understand? You do not know what a consort is, or does. You do not know life on Ishtar, among my people. You barely know daily life on my ship, Doctor!" Her voice nearly broke. "I cannot accept your fealty. Please do not ask me again!" There was silence, and then — "Must it be as consort?" he asked, and his defenselessness almost paralyzed her. He lowered his eyes, and his lashes looked long enough to brush his cheeks.
Her head shook once. "It must, with my vows. Teachers such as myself may not bind themselves to a man unless it be as consort." She closed her eyes. "And to be consort, you must leave the Fleet." He said nothing, only bowed his head, nestling it against her shoulder. "I will be back, Doctor, my beautiful pupil." She lifted one hand to clasp his dark head to herself. "I will return to this station, I promise."
"How long?" he asked, after a painful silence.
"What with the independence on Bajor, the market for traders such as myself has grown. Normally, I would only pass by here once in a lifetime. Now, it may be as soon as four or five months."
Five months…! It wasn't until she stroked his hair and toyed with its waves, making a comforting shushing sound, that he realized he had spoken aloud, and with all the despair he felt.
"Until then," she said gently, "we have the time we have, Doctor. Two more hours." She kissed his head softly. "Let us make the most of them."
"I know… I know that I said this before," he began, "but, Lady, I'm yours." His gentle lips caressed her cheek. "Yours."
"Then," she smiled, "let us resume the lesson… my lovely pupil." Again, they kissed deeply, and the room was silent but for the sounds of their mouths against one another. The scent of their desire hung heavily in the fading candlelight as the taper finally burnt to its socket, leaving them in darkness together for long moments, a dark- ness they shared in a simple comforting embrace, saying and doing nothing, but merely sharing the closeness of warm bodies, each feel- ing the other's rhythmic breathing. Then, "Lamps on low," she said finally, managing to make it sound sensuous.
Immediately, the flame lamps rose from their slumber, casting shadows on the walls and turn- ing Julian's dark rich hair into a jet cap ringed by a halo of gold. His face was in shadow, but his features were still highlighted by shadows on shadows, sharp and smooth and beautiful. His Lady caught her breath in amazement. One hand rose to his cheek, and he leaned into the caress. His eyes were in shadow; all that she could see was the devotion that shone from them, from out of their velvet depths. He turned his head, placing his lips against her wrist until he could feel her pulse, rapid even for one of her race.
They drew together, led by the tether that had sprung up between them, until they met in warmth and lost themselves, each in the other.
Her hands moved at his hips, hands that had recently left nail marks in his skin. They now slid gently over him, languidly sliding over the soft skin, feeling the curves and textures of his body. They wandered to his waist, his slender waist, then to his back and shoul- ders, now dry and velvetly. She felt the muscles there moving under the skin as he lifted his arms — still bound — around her and drew her even more tightly against him. Her mouth once again found his pulse, and her tongue traced it out to behind his jaw. Against her, he shivered. His hips moved forward, and she whispered only one word to him: "Patience." She felt him nod.
Again, he entered her — slowly, gently, with easy grace. Their bodies met, and Julian understood her desire, her wish to keep this as it was. The frantic grasping he had nearly given in to was as nothing compared to the electric unity he felt now — in each instant of this togetherness, there was something to delight in, nothing to rush through. In each movement of hers and his, there was a new sensation — every part of her was a part to take individually, in his mouth, his fingers, with his tongue, and experience. He felt her doing the same thing to him, taking each part of him, the entire surface of his body, and devoting long slow minutes to it.
As she moved, he was acutely aware of his body against hers, her legs around him, her breasts pushed against his bare chest, their gentle softness and the strength of the muscles underneath. Gently, he began to thrust back and forth, back and forth. He could feel the excitement build in him, and he forced himself to retain the slow, easy rhythm.
Patience, she had said. He looked into her eyes, large and tip-tilt- ed and no color he had ever seen before, and had no problem maintain- ing the languid tempo. All of her was something to be treasured, and he would die rather than rush any part of it. He would die rather than keep this time with his Lady from lasting one minute longer than it might. It would not be forever, but he would make it seem so, and with the discipline and control she had taught him.
Again, her nails went down his back, but this time he did not start. Only a softly voiced sigh broke between his lips, trembling against hers. His spine arched, pushing his body yet harder into her own, and his head fell back as far as the collar would allow. With elec- tric sensitivity, he felt her arm around his waist, holding him to herself, and her other hand against his chest as she watched his supple body curve away from hers in the liquid lamplight. Lazily, she leaned with him, drawing whirls and spirals with her tongue against his chest.
He was beginning to shine once again, the hot thin sweat of wanting, and as she looked down at herself — at her own breasts rising and falling, at her hard stomach, at her hips joined to his — she saw that she was as well. Her eyes remained at their paired hips, and she could just see the barest edge of him entering and pulling away slowly between her muscular thighs, could just hear the faintest liquid sounds of friction between their skins.
She looked up then, into his deep eyes, to see him watching her as she watched. His arousal flared, and he pressed himself against her even more firmly, all the while maintaining the same slow rhythm, the same lazy pace. All the time in the universe… for the next two hours.
She buried her fingers in the dark waves of his hair and pulled his face against hers, softly thrusting her tongue between his delicate lips. Gradually, she began to mimic his rhythm inside her until they were swallowing one another in time, in slow time. With a jolt, she realized that this was the first time she had ever followed any man's lead, the first time she had not directed action. The thought was rapidly chased away, however, by the dizzying sensations she was drowning in. Maiden, Mother, and Crone, she thought hazily, what a consort he would make.
He pulled away from her suddenly, stilling their undulations. His eyes were closed. "Lady… " he trailed off, his gentle voice holding onto the word.
"Control," she whispered back to him, fondling his jaw lovingly as she saw his jet lashes fluttering. They were both silent for long agonizing moments. Then, "Are you ready?" she asked him. He nodded.
"Yes… " he replied with sensuous sibilance. And he resumed, for a brief time — only a scant few minutes. He pulled away from her more urgently this time, his jaw clenched.
Through trembling lips, he breathed, "Lady… I don't think…" His eyes were wide, filled with despair and pleading. She caressed his soft skin, his beautiful buttocks, with her gentle hands.
"Doctor," she replied, her voice feathery and light, filled with understanding, "this is only your second lesson." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "You have done far more… progressed further than I would have imagined possible for a novice." He only swallowed at her words.
"But, I… " He broke off and a chill took him, making his slick body stand out with goosebumps.
Her mouth moved against his skin. "You have pleased me, Doctor." She paused. "More than any other pupil, or any other man." She took his hips then, and pushed them against her own, rocking back and forth as she thrust for him. "I give you this." Her rocking became more and more forceful, her strong arms taking over for him, giving him what he meant to have, what he deserved.
He shuddered under her hands, and gasped. Overcoming her own rhythm, his body pressed into hers as the wave broke over him. Like iron, she felt him slamming into her, saw him as he lost control finally — as he must — heard his wonder and peaking pleasure expressed in his beautiful voice. Again, his head was thrown back — this time by a force beyond him, and his spine whipped, throwing him into her over and over. She clasped him to her fiercely, feeling his taut, slim body shuddering with the seizures that had taken him, crashing into her with a strength which he did not normally possess.
She felt him driving into her as deeply as anyone had ever been, filling her as she took him in, stretching her sacred gateway deliciously. With sudden passion, she clutched at him, her arms tightening around his back and she wished that he need never leave. Doctor, she thought silently, how I wish you could remain in me… for all time. Nearly weeping, she buried her face in the warm skin at his neck, moistened with his excitement, and clasped his body to hers even harder.
"Here." She handed him his other uniform. "I took the liberty of retrieving it from your quarters while you were sleeping."
He took it without a word. They had spent the last three quarters of an hour in the warm spa, his head nestled against her chest, her arms cradling him while the water lapped at them both and the synthesized breezes carried the jasmine past their intertwined bodies.
Conversation had been sporadic. He had tried so hard to convince himself that it would last forever, and had failed. And now, here she was, handing him his Starfleet uniform, about to leave on a voyage that would take her away from him for months, take her away. Closing his eyes, he recalled the bloodwarm water, the feel of her wet skin under his cheek as he lay against her, the feel of her body against his as she held him.
As he pulled on his uniform, his eyes found the bed, rumpled from his past lesson. From the headboard, his collar still hung, limp and empty. Without a word, his Lady walked to the bed, her body covered for the first time since he had originally seen her in the infirmary — years ago. Without a word, she unlocked the ring that held the collar to the headboard, walked toward Julian Bashir, and silently held it out to him. He took it as well.
"This should remain on board my vessel," she told him. "Custom." She took his hands in hers. "But sometimes customs are meant to be broken." She paused, regarding him. "It belongs with you. When I return… bring it with you. Perhaps," she smiled wryly, "we may determine next time how it fits me."
His eyes shot to her face, the wing brows raised in a question.
"There are, after all, other lessons to be taught, dear Doctor." Her hands ran over his smooth cheeks. "Dear beautiful Doctor."
He attached his rank button to the collar of his uniform shirt and only looked at her. Suddenly, on an impulse, he knelt before her, and his eyes — those eyes that had touched her so deeply, been late- ly so filled with excitement, with fire — gazed up at her. He took her hands. "Lady," he said, his voice filled with such measureless devotion, and he could not continue. His gaze dropped.
Her hand touched his dark head gently. "I understand," she said to him, and, after a moment's indecision, she knelt in front of him, faced him as an equal. He moved to kiss her, but she put her hand against his chest, against his uniformed chest, and stopped him. "Not without your bonds, Doctor," she said sadly.
"I understand," he echoed, dropping his arm from around her waist. He held the collar against himself like a talisman, clutching it. Together, they rose.
"You're due in the infirmary in ten minutes," she told him.
"Yes."
"And I'm due to depart in ten minutes as well." She regarded the docking plan on the viewer near the entrance to her ship. "There is a Vulcan ship due to dock in this very place then, and I must be gone for them to do so." She took him in her arms, then — and again he felt the closeness, the unity, he had felt while his body had been against hers, inside hers, touching completely and not through awful clothing. They did not kiss.
After long minutes, they released one another. "I… " he began, but trailed off.
"I know."
His hands tightened around the collar, still damp with his sweat. His legs felt like lead as he walked toward the docking entrance, his Lady behind him.
"Five months," she said to him. "It will pass."
"Like five centuries." She shook her head.
"No. Your life will continue, Doctor. You will find things with which to occupy your time. Dangers, adventures, the things you came here for." She shrugged. "I… I will find opportunities, worlds for trading," a sly smile, "and gambling halls for cheating." This brought the smile she longed to see to his lips. "And when I return here, I will find you, and you me. And the lessons will resume."
"Lady," he whispered, his voice colored with urgency as the bay door rolled back, presenting the lonely and silent corridor to him. "I'm yours."
"I know," she replied and touched his face, his brow. She turned then, and walked back into her ship. The entrance slid open, and she turned back to see him standing in the airlock bay entrace, framed by the door, holding the collar in his hands.
"Five months," she repeated.
"Five months." And the entrance closed over her, cutting her off from him with a pain that was nearly concrete in its intensity. He stepped back from the airlock as the door rolled back into place with formidable solidity. He heard the faint clicks of the safeties loosing, then the rumble of her engines. As he watched, the Ariad shot away from the docking ring, its aft end glowing with the power of her warp drive. He would have stood there longer, watching until her glowing ship, her presence, was gone from the sky, but his duty to the station, his job, was once more present in his mind. Checking a chrono set into the wall, he saw that he had two minutes until he was due in the infirmary.
His fists tightened on the collar again, and he looked down at it in his hands. Still shimmering blue and silver, it was yet damp. His eyes closed in memory, and he swallowed. One last glance out the port was all he allowed himself, and he turned away. His steps echoed in the silent corridor.
Five months… —
Delightful Education of Julian Bashir, The · Part 3 (3/3)
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