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Archive name: DS9--01.txt
Authors name: The Phantom (Address Unknown)
Archive-title: Deep Space 9 
Part 1 of 5

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       -= Delightful Education of Julian Bashir, The =-


Julian Bashir's fingers trembled slightly as he pressed the door
chime.  It was only a scant few hours ago since he had met her, when
she had come to the infirmary with a slashed hand.  At first, he had
been preoccupied with healing the cut -- obtained in Quark's after,
according to her, some of the other patrons had taken exception to
the fact that she cheated better than they did -- but after finish-
ing, he had looked up to see more.  They exchanged a few words, and
he learned that she was from Ishtar.  That had explained several
things to him: her skill with a knife (the other man had sustained
considerably more damage) and the way her eyes held him like a cat's
held a mouse.  Her gaze alone was enough to make him flush slightly.

He had turned to replace the protoplaser in the sterilization field,
and when he turned back around, she was no more than three inches
away from him.  Stammering an apology, he tried to edge past her but
could not; her hands were around his slim waist, and she had
positioned her hips directly in front of his.

"Have you eaten?" she asked him, her voice low and rich.  He had
managed to force a "no" past his lips, feeling more and more like a
mouse as her eyes roved over his face.

"My ship is called the Ariad.  It is docked at Bay 2," she had told
him.  "You are very lovely, Doctor.  Be there in two hours."

And then she had left, leaving him quite warm, with a thin film of
sweat on the back of his neck.  He sat down to collect himself,
feeling the slightly pleasurable ache between his thighs that always
signaled arousal.  I guess it's true, he had thought, what they say
about Ishtarian women.

The intervening two hours had passed slowly, with no incident, making
it hard for him to ignore the insistent throb that reminded him of
his appointment.  Finally, out of boredom and a desire to distract
himself, he asked the computer for information on Ishtar, the woman's
home planet.

When at last he looked up from the desk viewer to discover that the
rest of the two hours had passed, he wondered what would happen.  I'm
not going, he told himself.  I'm just not going to go.  I'll get back
to my quarters, get something out of the food replicator, and just
get to sleep early.  He sat back in the chair, leaning his head
against the headrest.  Though he tried not to, he couldn't keep from
looking at the last image on the viewer -- that of one of the twelve
Ruling Queens of Ishtar with six of her consorts.  Six of ten.

I'm just not going, he told himself again.  He got up, licked his
lips nervously, smoothed his uniform, and walked out of the infir-
mary, dead set on returning to his quarters.

Now, he stood before the docking entrance to her ship, unable to
restrain his curiosity and thinking even that, perhaps, she might be
something that he needed.  He remembered the way she had looked at
him after he had regenerated the skin on her palm, and how he had
felt like a rabbit looking up into the eyes of a sleek hunting bitch,
his throat tight and he barely able to speak.  It'll just be a nice
dinner, he told himself, but that thought died faster than Warp 9.
He knew how she had looked at him, and he knew after reading more
about Ishtarian culture why she had looked at him as she did.

He pressed the chime again, and the door slid back to reveal darkness
lit by firelight inside.  The same rich voice that had caught his
attention so completely in the infirmary told him to enter and swal-
lowing once, hard, he obeyed.

He saw nothing at first, his eyes still adjusting to the change in
lighting, but when they had, he nearly gasped in astonishment.  The
rich voice came again, from nowhere, "I told you I was good at
cheating."

The ship was opulent, and everywhere he looked, he saw beautiful
things to delight his eye.  Tapestries hung from the bulkheads, flame
lamps stood from the floor, lighting the deeply colored room with a
somber and quieting glow.  He moved forward, feeling as if he were
walking in liquid topaz light, looking for the source of the voice.
Nervous, he said nothing.

"I'm over here," the voice said, from directly behind him.  Julian
jumped and spun around -- and gasped yet again.  She walked toward
him, and he felt his chest rise and fall in little pants.  He swal-
lowed again.

"Are you nervous?" she asked him, raising her sharp, dark face in a
challenge.  She took a step toward him, the click made by the heels
of her boots audible against the polished hardwood floors of her
vessel.  She wore only them and a pair of dark fingerless gloves that
reached to above her elbows.  In one hand he could just see two
velvety blue cords dangling down to reach the floor.

Any reply he made would be a lie.  He tried to shake his head and
muster some bravado and failed, settling only for licking his lips
yet again.  He had only guessed at her physique earlier on in the
infirmary; now he was able to see what had previously been only
hinted at.

She was tall, nearly as tall as him, and muscles stood outlined under
her smooth flesh as she moved.  He was unable to take his eyes off of
her, but could only gaze.  Her breasts were firm, and as she breathed
their perfect rosy nipples appeared to point at him, over and over.
Her stomach was hard-looking, with the muscular outlines that spoke
of peak physical condition.  Under this were a set of very female
hips, and he could just see in the dark lighting the outlines of her
vulva, inviting and mystifying.  Then came the long, fit legs,
muscled and strong looking -- what he could see that was not hidden
under the boots she wore.  Only the barest hint of thigh showed; the
rest was covered in the black animal skin.  No elevated heels were on
these boots; this woman's feet were planted solidly on the ground.

She was directly in front of him now, reaching up to run her fingers
over his moist lips.  "I enjoy watching when you do that."  Her eyes
were riveted to his face, raking over it like nails.

"I . . . I . . . thought . . . we were going to have dinner," he
managed to stammer.  He felt lightheaded, and she started backing him
toward the massive bed in the far corner of the main room.

"I said nothing about dinner," she told him.  "I asked only if you
had eaten."  She reached out with leather-gloved hands and took one
wrist firmly.  "Have you?"

"N-no. . . "  He could only watch in fascination as she tied one of
the two soft blue cords firmly around his wrist, letting the ends
dangle down from his arm.  He did nothing to stop her as she repeated
this with his other wrist.  "What . . . " he began, but she placed
her hand very firmly against his mouth.

"No questions."  He felt her reach down and take his hips again, and
with a push, he was thrust backward to land on the bed.  She stepped
directly onto the bed until she stood over him with one foot on
either side of his chest.  He could make out more of her moist and
tantalizing vulva, but tried only to squirm his way into a sitting
position.

She would have none of it, and placed one booted foot directly on his
chest.  "You will not move until I give you leave to move," she said.
Stunned and wondering what this night would teach him, he said no-
thing, only looked up at this beautiful and dangerous woman standing
over him.  As he watched, he saw the undersides of her breasts moving
rhythmically, bouncing gently as the bed cushion rocked in response
to his attempts to get away.

"I saw you in the infirmary," she told him, still standing over his
supine form.  "That's when I decided I wanted to teach you."  She
moved her foot from off of his chest and descended on him hard, to
land sitting with her legs straddling his ribs.  He cried out in
surprise, and felt the bed roll under his back.

Taking his face in her hands, she looked directly into his wide eyes.
Her voice softened but lost none of its resonant quality.  "You are
so very beautiful, Doctor, with your large eyes which you use to melt
my heart.  I can't let you melt it, though."  She shook her dark
head.  "A teacher must be firm and disciplined with her pupils."  Her
dark, sharp-featured face dipped close to his until he could feel her
breath against his trembling lips.  "You, with your lovely mouth and
lips and soft voice, which you will beg with, but I can't let your
begging sway me."  She took two handfuls of his hair and drew his
head back hard.  "Your long slender neck, which I will see bend and
arch as I will it . . . "  He turned his head, trying to get it free
of her grasp, breathing hard, and a puppy-like whimper escaped his
throat.

"Please, don't hurt me . . . " he said.  His eyes were wide with
incipient fear.  "Don't hurt me . . . "  Immediately, her voice
softened, and she placed her hands on his smooth young cheeks.  He
could smell the rich leather and feel it against his skin.

"Beautiful child, I would never hurt you."  Her eyes became moist and
soft.  "I will teach you, not hurt you."  She ran her hands over his
chest and stomach.  "So beautiful . . . " she said with hunger in her
voice that frightened him.  No, he thought, not a rabbit.  And she's
no hunting bitch.  As he watched her tawny, muscled body over his,
with its cape of wild dark hair he realized what she was -- a lion-
ess.  That makes me the lamb, he thought, or the cub.  Maybe a ga-
zelle, after being run down and caught.  His breath came faster, and
he felt his mouth go dry.

"What is your name?" he managed to choke out.

"Why do you need to know?" he was told.  "You need only call me
Lady."  She took one wrist and pulled it away from his chest where he
had raised it to protect himself, and he turned his head to see her
fastening the dangling ends of the cord to one of the corner posts of
the bed.  He could not defend himself; before he knew what was hap-
pening, his arm was stretched out and he could not budge it.  She
slapped him lightly.  "Stop this ridiculous struggling."  Taking his
other hand, he was soon defenseless and completely vulnerable to this
woman atop him.  His heart contracted and he cried out in fear when
she rose from the bed and returned carrying a large, vicious looking
knife.  She saw his face, questioning and afraid, and her own expres-
sion hardened slightly.  "I am not going to hurt you," he was told.
Then, "Do you have another uniform?"  Confused, he nodded.  "Good."

Fascinated and unable to stop her, he watched as she straddled him
again, slid the knife under his tunic, and cut it away from his body.
He fought against the bonds she had placed him in, feeling the soft
cord cut into his wrist, but she had done her job well, and the knots
did not give a millimeter.  "If you don't stop struggling, you could
get cut.  You must stay completely still."  He did so, and could feel
the dull edge of the knife brushing against his skin as she cut away
the uniform shirt to expose his chest, rising and falling quickly,
and his slim stomach.  "My . . . " she said, and placed the knife on
the bed cushion.  "I see you're this beautiful caramel color all
over, Doctor," she whispered.  As her eyes devoured him, she placed
her hands on either side of his neck, drawing them down toward his
waist firmly.  He felt her touch, and writhed as her nails contacted
the sensitive skin on his sides and near his waist.  He could not
hold back a small sound of mixed distress and pleasure at the sensa-
tion that made his hair stand on end and lit up every nerve ending in
his body.

Her face lit up as well.  "Ah!" she said in the voice of someone who
has made a great discovery.  His eyes shot to her.

"No . . . "

"`No, Lady,' you mean," she instructed him, drawing her nails against
his smooth cafe-au-lait skin again.  His muscles tensed under her
touch as he bucked against her.

"Stop!"  His voice broke.  "Please . . . "

"Please WHAT?" she demanded, not letting up but intensifying what
seemed to him to hover on a thin and exquisite border between torture
and pleasure.  He cried out again.  Finally:

"Please, Lady!" was wrung from his quivering mouth.

"What?"  She did not stop.

"Please, Lady, stop!"  Instantly, the sensation ceased, and he threw
his head back, panting, eyes closed, the muscles in his arms aching
from his struggle against the cords.  His eyes jerked open again,
though, when he felt her gloved hand against his cheek again.  He
looked at her, saying nothing, only trying to get his breath back.

She was regarding him with a hunger that seemed to make her previous
appetite pale to nothing.  Her beautiful face closed in on him, and
she placed her mouth against his, but did not kiss him.  He felt her
own breath coming more quickly, and realized that she was becoming as
badly aroused as . . .

 . . . as he was.  He was very badly aroused now, he suddenly saw.
He could feel himself pushing against his uniform trousers, and he
wished with all his heart that she would cut them from around his
legs as well.  "I want you," he whispered to her, his lips brushing
over hers as he spoke.

"You beg . . . so beautifully . . . " she told him, and he could feel
her lips moving as well.  "But . . . " and she pulled back, "I will
take you when and if I decide that you have earned it."  He watched
with excitement as, after pulling off his uniform boots, she picked
up the knife again and slid it underneath the cuff of his trousers.
Slowly, slowly, he felt the edge brush against his skin as it rose
along his inner thigh, sending chills along his spine and making
goose-bumps stand out all over him.  When progress would have endan-
gered him, she slid the knife up along his abdomen, making him writhe
anew as he felt the edge tickling him, his skin's sensitivity now
heightened with anticipation.  The same sensation met his other leg,
and as she then cut away his underclothes, he burst forth, ready and
aching horribly for her.  He was completely unclothed, and completely
at her mercy.

She turned and threw the knife hard; it thudded into the wall oppo-
site them, the Starfleet doctor supine and defenseless and the Ish-
tarian woman who had made him that way.  She was silent for a brief
moment, and then drove her hips down on his, plunging him deep inside
her.  He gasped and shuddered at the warm wetness that clutched at
him, and moaned in horror when he felt her withdraw and get up from
the bed.  "That is a taste," he was told as he moaned in frustration.
"IF you satisfy me, that is what you can win.  If not, you win
nothing."

Continued in part 2...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It’s okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with strangers. But
it isn’t okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with strangers!!  You only
have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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