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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: DS9--02.txt
Authors name: The Phantom (Address Unknown)
Story title : Deep Space 9
Part 2 of 5
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"Lady . . . " he gasped, his voice soft and pleading. She turned
back to face him, and he saw in her eyes what she saw: his bare body,
shining with the light sheen of sweat that had formed on him, long
legs stretched out along the bed with his rigid sex between them,
arms forced wide, face alive with a mix of fear and arousal. She
turned away then, and he watched as she disappeared into another
room. After an awful pause during which she was out of his sight,
she returned carrying a small silver jar. He only watched as she
resumed her position standing over top of him. This time, he could
see her sweet vulva more clearly, and he felt himself throb and
thirst to be inside her again. "What . . . what is that?" he managed
to whisper. She reached down quickly and grasped him hard, squeezing
tightly. Julian's head swam.
"*What* do you say?" she demanded softly, in a voice of great affec-
tion and patience.
He could barely think for the roaring of blood in his ears. "What is
that . . . Lady?" he choked out. She released him, and he began
breathing again, not sure of whether he would want her never to touch
him like that again, or do so over and over until he was wrung dry.
She sat on the edge of the bed and stroked at his inner thigh idly as
she told him, and he could barely concentrate on her words. "It is
called kamireh." She removed the lid slowly, then resumed stroking
his thigh. Not even addressing his body, twitching with every move-
ment of her fingers, she explained further. "It is very sweet," she
scooped out a small portion on a fingertip and smiled at him a smile
he had been waiting to see all his life, "and VERY sticky." Languid-
ly, she placed her finger in her own mouth, and sucked at it as he
watched, his large eyes riveted to her lips and how they draped
around her finger, how her cheeks pulsed as she sucked. Allowing
this tension to mount, she then scooped out another little mound of
the kamireh and held it over his anxious mouth. "Would you like
some?"
He parted his lips. "Yes, Lady . . . please." She withdrew her
finger slightly as his mouth rose for it.
"I should warn you that it has some . . . unusual qualities," she
informed him, pulling her hand back until it was directly between her
breasts.
"What . . . unusual qualities?" he asked, then added quickly, "Lady,"
at her budding expression of displeasure. She was satisfied.
"Pleasure-enhancing qualities, or rather stamina-enhancing. Are you
really sure you want some?" She shifted her position slightly, open-
ing her legs just a bit so that he could see past the leather and be-
tween her firm thighs. She saw him looking at her and her eyes be-
came hooded at the naked hunger on his face. "That's for later, if
you do your job well." Then, she held her hand over his mouth and
slowly placed her finger between his eagerly parted lips. His eyes
closed in sheer pleasure as he sucked at the intensely sweet creamy
confection. He could feel it making his blood pulse faster, and his
sex, previously beginning to surrender to frustration, bounded back
to stand at attention, thirsty and throbbing. His appetite rebounded
with it, and he heard himself moaning in response to it.
He had never wanted anything so badly.
After a few moments, the silence in the room caused him to open his
eyes. She was watching him, plainly taking great delight in witness-
ing his reaction to the kamireh. "You are VERY responsive," she said
approvingly. "Few men so young respond so well and so completely to
it. Would you like another taste?"
He had to gather his breath. "Yes, Lady, I would." A chill swept
over his naked body, and he shivered.
"Very well." She resumed squatting over him, painfully not such that
he would be able to be inside her, took another little mound of kami-
reh and, as he watched in growing excitement, placed it on her
tongue. She bent over him and his lips parted again; his heart
knocked hard enough to burst from his chest in anticipation of . . .
He felt her tongue slide between his lips, the sweet cream at the
tip, and meet his own. For a few moments, he felt nothing, was no-
thing, save the delicious sensations flowing over him like wet velvet
as he sucked at her tongue. Her breasts touched lightly against his
chest as she bent over him, and for a time they were silent, toying
with one another's warm nimble tongues and delighting in the sweet-
ness of the kamireh.
Then, he felt another burst of hot fire run through and over him, and
the hard throb that pounded at him from his sex felt as if it could
drive him through the roof. He was gasping now, and whimpering
lightly on every exhalation. Finally, he found the consciousness to
open his eyes, and saw a similar hunger in her face, felt as her
breasts pushed rhythmically at him as she panted as well; the kamireh
affected Ishtarians, too. "I must . . . " she began, then broke off
as a shudder ran through her; her felt her sex also twitch and pulse
against his naked belly. "I must . . . be careful of the kamireh, or
I will not be able to," she looked at his shining body with greed,
"restrain myself long enough to instruct you properly." For a brief
few seconds, she simply stared at him, grasped his upper arms, and
gripped them so hard that she left the imprints of her nails in his
skin. "It's a pity you Starfleet types are so dedicated, and so
easily missed, or else I might never let you off my ship." At his
expression, she patted his cheek. "Don't worry, Doctor. I have
every intention of allowing you to return to your duty, but," and she
traced her fingers along his sternum down to the hollow area between
his hips, "your duty lies with me right now." Yet again, she drove
her hips down onto his, this time lingering a little longer. He felt
her muscles contract as she squeezed at him, and felt rather than saw
her take two handsful of his hair and pull his head back until his
neck was extended completely. Fleet doctor, brilliant specialist in
multi-species medicine, he was now nothing but a mass of raw nerve
endings, knowing and caring about nothing but the satisfaction of the
woman that had swallowed him up. She was right; his duty was here
now. She clutched at him for a few more times, her own face betray-
ing her excitement and desire as she watched his body arch under
hers, and then she withdrew, oblivious to his sobs, and stood over
him on the bed.
He could restrain himself no longer. "Lady!" he begged her. "Lady,
please . . . " His voice broke as he begged. "Lady . . . " But she
simply stood over him, looking down at him stretched beneath her, his
arms tense with their tendons standing out in clear relief as he
strained against the cords, fists gripping them. "Please," he whis-
pered. She stood still for long agonizing seconds, moving only as
the bed swayed under her from Julian's twisting and arching. Then,
she squatted slowly over him, again not taking him in despite his de-
sire, and picked up the silver jar again. This time, however, he
shook his head in fear. "Please, no," he begged her. "No more,
Lady. I don't want that." His soft voice caught. "I . . . want
you . . . "
She was silent and removed the cap, and then her gloves. Taking a
little kamireh out of the jar, she placed it caressingly on the head
of his sex, and with languid strokes, covered the shaft. He watched
as she did this, thrilling to each touch of her hands, gasping as his
body reacted to them, heightened by the kamireh already. "This," he
was told, "will intensify the experience. For both of us." She re-
placed the lid of the silver jar, and grasped him firmly, hard enough
to make his eyes squeeze shut. He gritted his teeth, awaiting what-
ever would come next. When nothing happened, he looked down and saw
only her face looking straight at him. Then, with great delibera-
tion, she placed her sex directly over his and guided him into her.
He only stared and swallowed, not sure of whether or not she would
allow him to remain inside of her. Her face gave him no clues; it
was expressionless, looking into his eyes, or rather through them.
"Your eyes are," she bent down until she was on top of him, her face
even with his, "most remarkable. They are . . . like liquid . . . "
Then, she devoured his mouth, unable to control herself. She was
whispering now, as she took his face in her hands. "You will keep
your eyes on mine at all times." She paused and put her lips over
his without kissing him, all the while maintaining eye contact.
"Even when you come." Her voice was soft and delicious as she began
to squeeze at him and undulate herself against him. He shuddered and
closed his eyes, and she stopped.
Nearly sobbing, he looked at her, his face a question between her
hands. "You will keep your eyes on mine at all times," she repeated.
"Even when you come."
"Yes, Lady," he breathed, and she resumed, keeping her grip on his
head and keeping his face turned to hers. More slow clutching, more
languid movement of her hips, becoming gradually more energetic as
the kamireh took effect on her as well. She watched as he tried to
control his reactions, keeping his eyes locked with hers. At one
point, he bit his lip to keep from crying out. Her face tightened in
distress. "No!" she told him. "You may use your voice." He nodded
slowly in response, his nods gradually taking up the cadence of her
muscles gripping him, her hips grinding into his. Quietly at first,
but growing in volume, he moaned with each breath. Every part of his
body, every action, became synchronized with the woman to whom he had
somehow come to owe his bodily allegiance. He watched her head bob
as the kamireh took her, saw her wild hair drag over her wet body,
felt her spasm as the hot throbbing laid its grasp on her, saw her
sweat-filmed breasts move in little up-and-down circles as her body
became synchronized as well with the wave that had taken them both
over. Together, they moved, together they moaned, together they
breathed -- all the while with their eyes locked.
He was tightening, becoming very tight, so tight . . . "Lady," he
moaned quietly. He could feel himself nearing the peak as she re-
leased his head and slowly dragged her nails down his chest and sto-
mach until her hands were at her own hips. He was beyond gasping,
felt only the first shuddering surge of energy; she saw it as well,
and her hands flew back to his cheeks to hold his head rock steady.
She bent again to him, focusing her eyes directly on his. "Even when
you come," she reminded him, her voice a ghostly hiss. He could not
respond, but only react as she clutched and thrust, finally feeling
the tightness build to the point where he felt that he could not
stand it any longer, to the point where he felt that the horrible
ache would remain with him all his life if he . . .
Then suddenly, with consuming thunder, he felt the first wave break
over his slick body. Though she kept her hands around his head, he
managed to break her iron grasp and his eyes rolled back. His voice,
inarticulate and wondering, gave way to such sensations that he never
imagined a human body could sustain without losing consciousness.
Over and over, he felt himself bucking wildly underneath the weight
of the woman who owned him; over and over, his hips thrust upwards,
driving himself so deeply into her that he felt he never wanted to
come out. Oceans of cold water poured over Julian Bashir, drowning
him in icy fire. The cords, wet with his sweat, cut against him,
rubbing the skin from his wrists, but the hot electricity of the raw
skin on his arms only added to the intensity of what was breaking
over him with the power of a tsunami. All the nerves in his body
were nothing but hot wires, coursing with voltage that threatened to
burn out his mind. The sensory burnout sustained itself until he
felt he could take no more; incoherent from pleasure, he could only
be buffeted about by the storm raging around and through him. Mi-
nutes, hours . . . he did not count time. When he at last knew him-
self again, the flame lamps were nearly dark, and his Lady was in a
state similar to his own -- asleep on top of him, covered in her own
sweat and his, exhausted.
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.
Continued in part 3...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 6