Star Trek - DS9: The Delightful Education Of Julian Bashir Part 4
by The Phantom (MF,F-dom,bond)
She stood, and walked out into the other room again, leaving him to wonder
what form his punishment would take, leaving him to tremble in mixed joy and
fear at being allowed to remain in her care at a price.
The flame lamps went out, leaving him in complete darkness. He looked around
himself wildly, the metallic noises from his chain dropping into the stygian
darkness like tiny bits of broken glass.
A glimmer of flickering yellow light ran over the bronze headboard, ruddying
it and him, and making his kneeling shadow jump and cavort over the walls
with a freedom which he did not now possess. He turned his head, and saw
his Lady return, and his heart leapt. He tried to move toward her, but the
collar restrained him and he felt it tug him back into his place. He could
see only the barest portion of her -- her face and hair, her hands, the upper
crescents of flesh of her breasts -- from the long red taper she held, lit
and flickering like something alive. She was wearing her boots again, and
her gloves, and he could hear the cool tapping of her heels against the wood
floor as she came wordlessly to the bed, to where he was waiting,
apprehensive and unsure of what was to come.
"You will be silent, Doctor," she told him, placing the taper down aside the
bed, and he saw her take something out of the thigh of her boot.
It was a gag. He swallowed at the sight of it.
"I would not wish to use this, but evidently, it is needed," she told him.
"It will be tight but not uncomfortably so." She knelt behind him once
again, and he felt the band of cloth go around his mouth -- saw it only by
the jumping dark shapes on the wall where a shadow woman reached around the
neck of a defenseless shadow man and fastened the cloth over his lips. The
ends were tied firmly, and he was silenced. Again, Julian swallowed and
felt himself begin to sweat. He shook once, all over.
She saw it. "This will be slightly painful, but may not be unpleasant."
He turned his head at her words, and saw her pick up the taper and kneel
again behind him. "Lean forward," he was told. He did not, but tried
instead to twist away from her, looking with fear at the flaming candle.
From over the gag, she saw his eyes, lit by the candle flame, watching
her -- awaiting her actions.
"Lean forward," she repeated, taking a handful of his dark hair and pushing
his head toward the headboard. He could not resist, and was gradually pushed
until his bound hands pressed against his brow. He was shaking.
A sparkling spot of heat awoke the nerves on the skin of his lower back; he
jumped and inhaled sharply at it, but before he could react to it, the heat
Another little stab of heat sprang to life on his left shoulderblade. He
tried again to squirm away from it, but his Lady held him fast by his hair,
and he could not move.
Another -- this time on the back of his neck. It was quickly followed by
yet another in the middle of his back. As the bed undulated in reaction to
his starts, little hotspots began tickling and alighting all over him,
dancing like fingertips all over his supple, trembling body. He was inching
his way closer to hug the headboard, but then felt a finger inserted into
the band of cloth around his lips, and his head was pulled back roughly until
it rested in the crook between her shoulder and neck. The little fingertips
danced all over him once more -- punctuating the skin on his jumping chest,
running down his neck, tracing lines along his tense belly and thighs,
running all over him, running their heat all over his skin. He felt an
unbearable line of liquid heat trickling down his shoulder, and bucked and
squirmed in his Lady's arms. She pulled his head back ever more firmly, and
he felt a line of heat drawn down his neck, from chin to sternum. It
continued down his chest and over his belly, and he twisted in panic, not
wanting it to go further. He gasped as he felt it gently touch his tightly
curled ebony hair, and then it was elsewhere, drawing hot thick lines against
his hips and waist.
Then, the pressure on his neck was gone, and the presence of his Lady was
gone with it. She was gone, vanished, into the mysterious other room after
having placed the burning taper at the bedside. He looked down at himself
as he tried to catch his breath and saw spots and trickles of the scarlet
wax all over his body, but could think only of the return of his Lady.
She did so, peeling one glove off with slow and deliberate movements. Before
he knew what was happening, she leapt onto the bed with him and pushed him
flat into the headboard, the engraved and hammered metal cold as ice against
his bare skin. He did not have time to react before he felt a stinging crack
against his buttocks, one that pushed him even harder into the hard metal.
A gasp and sound of shock squeezed itself past his gag, closely followed by
another as the same harsh sting radiated from his buttocks and ran up his
spine. It was joined by another, and another, and soon he was gasping and
moaning -- trying desperately to quell the moans -- in time with his Lady's
punishment. With a jolt, he realized that he was beginning to grow hard and
stiff, realized that he wanted her to swallow him yet again, even while she
drove her hand over and over into his soft skin, even while the crimson wax
now solidified on him cracked and splintered with his gyrations. It went on,
seemingly forever, until he felt raw and the once icy headboard seemed like
fire against his chest. The pounding had taken on a rhythm of its own, until
his entire being resonated with her every stinging blow, until every movement
he made -- even the beating of his heart -- had become synchronized with her
And then it was over, and she was gone from behind him yet again, leaving
him to slump against the headboard, exhausted and trying to catch his breath.
After a time, her voice came from a far corner of the room. "Have you
learned?" With effort, he turned his spinning head to look in the direction
of her voice.
In a regal-looking plush chair, high backed and covered in the ubiquitous
dark leather, she was seated with her long black-encased legs crossed,
regarding him like an ephemeral judge in the dim halflight. For several
moments he could not muster any reply at all, could only imagine what she
saw when she looked at him like that; again he was the cub or the gazelle,
shivering and defenseless, and she the predator. He looked down at himself
again -- his skin in the dim candlelight the same color as the metal
headboard -- and saw the broken traces of wax all over his body. Closing
his eyes, he took a deep breath and nodded, still feeling the tingling
aftereffects of her blows.
"You have?" she asked, idly running her index finger up and down her sternum.
Julian tried to read some emotion, some hopeful sign, in her face and failed.
"I hope you have. There is little time left for us now until you must return
to duty, Doctor, and I can't afford to waste any more trying to teach you to
hold your tongue."
He lowered his eyes, wanting to convince her that he could be trusted to keep
silent and learn.
She bounced one leg forward a few times, considering his kneeling form. "I
think," she said as she unfolded herself and got up, "that we will retain the
gag. Just to be on the safe side." At the sight of her walking toward him,
Julian felt his heart leap. For the thousandth 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
moments, 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
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 himself. She was everywhere, all
things to him, and he fervently wished she could take him into herself --
physically and mentally -- forever. 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 restrained herself, knowing that the gag must remain, and
that her own training 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
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.