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Star Trek - DS9: The Delightful Education Of Julian Bashir Part 3
by The Phantom (MF,F-dom,bond)


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 opposite 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 rubbery 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 dotted 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 destroyed."

She laughed at this. "Don't worry, you won't need your uniform, Doctor."
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 collar.
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 recognized 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 understood.

"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 actions. 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
obvious 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 remembered 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 sweetness, as well as a number of delicacies which he
had never seen before. 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 delicious
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 stomach 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 clatter 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 fighting not
to. "Yes," she whispered into his ear as he battled to remain 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 upright 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 silence 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, Doctor," 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.

    

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