("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: DS9--01.txt Authors name: The Phantom (Address Unknown) Archive-title: Deep Space 9 Part 1 of 5 ------------------------------------------------------------------ This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1998. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. ----------------------------------------------------------------- -= 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. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Kristen's collection - Directory 6