elf@sumax.seattleu.edu (12/24/90)
Journal Entry 025/0412
I'd gone back to space. No, I did not intend to find a new place
and create another Pendor, one is quite enough in this universe, thank
you. But I was in search of something to do, for once, and space,
especially the "exploring the new Frontier" type, called me once more.
Life on board The Eldarfaroth is both very much like and very much
unlike a Star Trek episode. Yeah, there is a bridge, and lounges, and
cargo holds, and holodecks, and transporter rooms, and yes, there are
androids on board, and non-humans. But, the crew is a racial
cross-section, Felinzi and Mephits and Jentecks and a Dolphin or two, a
crew of over a thousand. There is more than one lounge, though, even
one strictly for gays. Besides, Captain Ian MacNaughton has two heads
and three legs and looks like a deer with two Cecil the Seasick Sea
Serpents for necks. But I like Ian, even if his booming voice is an
awful affectation, and the Eldarfaroth isn't a bad ship.
But starships have little use for transporter engineers like me who
have nothing to do when were under Cochrane drive, so on the side I
teach physics to a bunch of the staff kids.
Ever had a kid in class who already knew all this stuff? And was
waiting to get to the good parts, but who wouldn't rap about her
thoughts? Kathy's like that. Human, twenty three, blonde and blue
eyes, but, for some reason she wasn't terribly interesting. Must have
been her folks, they're real scientists. In any event, she was a
spoiled child in my classroom, rolling off theories that would have made
a Cochrane engineer blanche. Not terribly social.
But one day she rattled off this...thing. It was some sort of
equation, but I had the ship AI repeat it to me after class. If I was
right, it was a major improvement over Cochrane IV theory, which could
redefine a whole line of starships!
Which meant...
Next day, in class. Two hour session. Ended well. People were
leaving, going to the rest of their day.
"Miss Hawkwing, could you please stay after class for a moment?"
Snickers ran about some of the younger ones in the classroom, and
that's allright. She had been a bit bitchy. But, when the class
emptied I sat down and told her "You're amazing, you know that, Kathy?
You come in here, and know everything already, and I don't need you in
my classroom, especially when that equation you rattled off yesterday is
better than anything we have in the line right now. Wait. Yes, I can
see that you've figured out what this means, to you, me, and Alderson
shipyards. It could earn you a lot of respect. Therefore, using that
equation as a starting point, you may pass my class entirely if you
prove your equation. You may use banzai labs for this project, and you
may take as long as two weeks. I suggest you start by looking up the
Bennetti equations, a series of incorrect-but-getting there thoughts
proposed on Earth before they even had spaceflight."
She looked at me, after this tirade, and looked as if she was about
to snap at me, but instead she merely said "Yes, sir." and walked out.
Little did I know that that word, "sir," was about to become the
basis of a whole new relationship.
A week later, and I was cooking steak, the aroma filling my
domicile, when Wendy said "Ahem." That electronic throat- clearing was
getting annoying. She didn't have to do that. "There's a young lady at
your door, a Miss Katherine Hawkwind, to see you. I believe she's in
your physics class."
Snapping a Niven stasis field around my meal so it wouldn't burn, I
asked Wendy to tell her to come in. She did so, and slapped a rammark
onto the kitchen counter. "There. The whole thing, proven, with
footnotes and bibliography. Happy now?"
"Almost."
"Almost? What else do you want?"
"Working proof. A working test model."
"You're kidding, right? I don't know that stuff, I'm not an
engineer!" Her chin was quivering.
"Alright, then, don't bother. But you get an ninety for my class,
not a one hundred."
She wasn't listening. Odd. She was staring at my bookshelf,
which, believe it or not, is still full of old paper-pressed hardcovers.
I still like something I can carry around, or read on the beach. Much
to my surprise, so do a lot of folks. Books are comfortable, and easy,
and it's my experience that they'll be around for a long time yet.
Worse, even though any librarian AI will press you one in ten minutes,
people still insist of borrowing them from others. I guess there are
some things you can't take out of an intelligent gene pool. "Shardik?"
"Kathy, call me Elf, or Ken, or something other than Shardik, huh?
That's a name for offworlders."
"Okay...Ken. Uhm, can I borrow a book?" See what I mean?
"I guess. Sure, go ahead."
"Thanks!" She reached out to the shelf, grabbed one, and headed
for the door. "Oh, and I'll see what I can do about that project. Can
I ask Andraveleskand'r for help?"
She knows Andra? I shrugged. "Sure, as long as your work is on
the testbed."
She nodded, smiling, and headed for the door. I snapped off the
NT-field and resumed cooking. I glanced at my bookshelf, curious to see
what she'd taken. I was intrigued. The book she'd taken was considered
a classic of S/M literature.
The Erotic Adventures of Sleeping Beauty, vol. 1, The Claiming of
Sleeping Beauty.
A few weeks later, there came another visit from Miss Hawkwind. I
invited her in. "Hi! How goes your project?"
She shrugged, her expression more nervous than studious, and I
wondered. "It's okay. Testbed's a mess, though. Ugliest pressings of
circuitry I ever did."
"I thought you weren't an engineer.
"I'm not," that shrug again. "I do know what I'm doing though in
hyperfields. But that's not what I wanted to ask you about."
"Oh?"
She sat down at the dining table, her back straight. She paused
for a minute, then began, "You know my parent, right? I'm twenty-three
years old, y'know, but, well...Elf, I've slept with boys and I've even
slept with girls, but, well, I read that book you loaned me, then I went
and got the others, and...
She paused again. "I've never felt what I did when I read those
books. I mean, never. Regular sex doesn't do anything for me, it's..."
"Empty? No what you were looking for?"
"Yeah, and I thought, since you had them, I could ask you about
it."
I stopped for a long time. I grabbed a glass of iced gfi, and some
sugar, and sat down at the table. "Kathy, I've had those books on my
shelves for over five hundred years. Yeah, Roquelare's a hot writer,
and her ideas are great, but they're just fantasies. I found them as
exciting as you did...well, maybe not, but I know how you feel."
"You mean, you don't do..."
"I didn't say that." A thought burned in my mind, like a candle.
Did I want to do this? I though about the question as we sat there
silently, her eyes saddened by what she must have thought was my
rejection. The more the though rolled around my mind, the clearer the
answer became. She did.
So did I.
"Have you ever done anything like..."
"Like that? Yeah..." I smiled, wistful, I think, " a while ago, but
not from the top."
"You're a bottom?" she said, not quite believing that I'd said that.
"Well, yeah, when the mood strikes me to go out, like to Rhysh or
something, yeah, I tend to be bottom."
"Oh." She said it like that meant that it was all over.
"Kathy, the best masters and mistresses are those that were once
slaves themselves...Ask Lisa."
"Lisa?"
"Ever here of a place called The Village?"
"No...oh, wait, isn't that the island near Rhysh? I was told by my
AI that I'd learn about that place when I was older." Which meant that
when you were younger, someone instructed your friendly neighborhood AI
to not tell you about things like that, probably under it's own
discretion. That's okay, parents should dictate what kids can and can't
get into.
"Yeah, well, Lisa is The Village AI."
"Oh, and I take it..."
"Yeah, the Village is a smorgasbord of stuff like that in the Beauty
books. Anyway, I used to visit there."
"And what did you do there?" She asked, suddenly intensely curious.
"Well, let's see. My favorite game they had there is called the Hex
Pit. Uhm, it's an all-male game, for when I had a male trainer. It's a
great game. Some of the people call it a rape-game, but that's really
unfair to the men who play. Rape is an ugly thing; it's one of the
reasons I encourage gun use on Pendor, after all we are far from
perfect. But this, this is different.
"Hex is...well, my trainer, Borodir, took me into this room, and
there were about fifty people there, and in the center is this hex,
about four meters across, lined with ropes. He explained the rules to
me, which are very simple. I get put into the Hex with another
contestant, and the first one to fuck the other wins. So he takes off
my collar...yeah, he led me in on a collar, and put me on the pedestal
leading to the Hex. I stood there, and you gotta believe I was nervous.
So he took out this bottle of oil, and he began to rub it all over my
back, and my stomach, and my neck, and into my hair, and then down back
over my legs, and then his hands were all over my ass, really greasing
me up. His palm slipped in between my cheeks, and his finger was
starting to slip its way into me, greasing me up. Finally, he took hand
and began to stroke my cock, getting me hard.
"So there I was, this hand on my cock, fifty people staring at me,
and they lead the other guy in, and start doing the same thing to him.
This guy was a Mephit, and you know how they are, all wiry and thin?
Not this guy, he was fuckin' huge, the Terminator of Mephits, with a
cock that was well on it's way to being as big as a soda can, and I
swear he had this dark, mysterious expression, and if he'd had Tindal
ears he could have come straight from some woodland tale. And he grins
at me. They start oiling him up, getting it into his fur, and his
trainer is stroking him like Borodir is me, and my legs are tremblin'
because I was so horny, and I knew, I was going to get this guy. So all
of a sudden, Borodir's hand is gone, and I hear some guy yell 'GO!'
"And four meters is not very far. This guy and I were on each other
instantly, trying to wrestle the other to the mat, which is just as oily
as we are, and this guy has muscles. He's gorgeous, and rules say I
can't grab his cock or his tail, or punch him, just wrestle, and he
throws me aside. I rolled, and he came at me again, trying to turn me
over, but I slipped out and slid away. He threw himself across the Hex
at me, but I kicked off a wall and slid out of the way again, but too
hard. He went sprawling across the mat where I'd been, but I slid into
another wall and hit my head, dazed. I looked up, and he was lying
facing away from me, his ass in the air, his tail twitching. No time to
think about it, I jumped on him, my erection humping between his legs,
my hands on his biceps, holding him down. He was snarling and hissing,
and I kept trying. I didn't have a free hand to aim, and his damned
tail was in the way, but I kept on, and I felt something press against
my cockhead, and I pushed, and it gave way, I was in! He yowled, and I
felt his ass clench and try to push me out, but I was in heaven...I
heard someone yell 'ONE!' as I went in and I began to fuck him, right
there, anger and force, pounding, and the crowd was chanting, counting
each stroke...'FIVE'...'SIX'...he was seriously writhing, trying to get
loose, and I went on, relishing this...this...power...'NINE'...and I
went on fucking him, one hard stroke after another, and when the crowd
reached 'TWELVE!' I jammed my cock into his asshole, and I came,
shooting into that heat.
"I must have rolled off of him, but I don't remember doing it. But
I do recall his rolling over and jumping to his feet, glaring at me.
Then he grinned, a good sport, and helped me up. He laughed, and I did
to. It was so funny, it really was. We were told to go clean up, and I
did bring him off in the baths, helping him clean off all that oil out
of his pelt. His name was Aaden, we still keep in touch, he's a great
guy. We had a few drinks afterwards, do believe he drinks milk? And
when it's not oily, he does have a very sexy tail, all white with black
trim, really bushy, and it almost reaches his head when it stands on
end. And I still say he has the sexiest dark eyes I've seen on a
Mephitisoid.
"But it's not really rape. We both knew exactly what we were
getting into when we went in there, Borodir knew I'd like that kind of
game. Actually, I've lost that game more often than I've won, and it's
still just as fun. It's very masculine, really, the predator type games
that women just don't get into for the most part. The using."
She stared at me, looking really hot. "You...you did things like
that?"
"Sure, why not?" I'd decided. "Kathy, " I said, grabbing a pad of
paper and a pen, "can you remember this word?" I wrote it down, and made
her pronounce it, several times, until she had it perfect and memorized.
"Good. Let's talk. There's a lot in the Beauty books, and you're going
to have to sit here and tell me what in those books made you...hot."
"Okay, well...I liked the scene in the castle, y'know, when the
queen first punishes beauty. And I liked the scene in the dungeon. The
kitchen I didn't like, and I didn't like the scenes in public, like the
bridle path. Uhm, I don't want to be a pony," (I smiled at that), "but
a tent princess sounds like fun. I liked the scenes at the sultan's,
where the slaves are isolated and restrained, y'know, the scene with all
the decorations..." She went on for a good long while, her voice growing
steadier all the time. As I listened, I took notes.
"Okay, Kathy," I said, "lets play this one scene at a time. I
think I've got a handle on this. Tonight, at 11:00 i.d., you will meet
me at here. Got that?"
"You mean, you're going to...tonight?" She looked and sounded
bewildered.
"Yeah, tonight, you and me alone. Ready?"
"Uhm..." She was thinking fast, like I intended. If she really
wanted what she was asking for, this was the time to find out. "I'll be
there. Count on it."
"Good. Remember the first rule, though. When you get there,
you're mine, got that? No questions until after, when I release you
from the game. The moment you step into my room, you're my thrall.
Clear?"
She nodded. I said, "Except...that word I gave you. Can you
remember it? It's on that slip I gave you. If you ever use that word,
everything's off. It's you're safety valve. If a scene is going places
you don't want it to, if you're too hurt or frightened, that's your way
out. Okay?"
She nodded, then stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed me.
"Thank you," she whispered, and she left, to get ready.
Alone again, I sat back, and pondered. What in Hell have I gotten
myself into?
Not that it mattered. I'd made a promise, and I was going to do my
Boy Scout's Best to keep it. Not that I was ever a Boy Scout.
And I sat back, and wondered.
The room was small, and shapeless. That is to say that it did not
yet have a definite shape, but it would definitely work on it. Using
every high-tech trick in the book to make this my total environment,
hyperlography for the visual, nanotech for the physical, biocybe for the
control, even a teleporter in case more sheer mass was needed. Garrett
hardware made it convincing.
I paused, and the room slowly took shape. A bedroom was what I
wanted, not a dungeon, not yet. Although at the merest thought it could
be a dungeon. Any sort of room.
I sat down at a chair of my desire, and waited. I glanced at my
watch, an object as physical and yet as unreal as the chair and the
table. Nanotech arranged in another form, the watch was a frakir, a
defense weapon. I bid it depart, and watched, fascinated as it
dissolved, entering my skin through the pores and between the molecules.
I had long ago gotten used to the thought of those tiny machines
crawling around inside me. They kept me young, strong. They countered
poison, healed me, allowed me to change if I wanted to. And besides,
they were simply improvements over my own organic hardware. And if you
think that's impossible, remember, nature only works in one field, DNA,
and we've got the strength of mind to make whatever we feel.
2:55 i.l. I waited for Kathy to show. "Ken?" said a soft,
feminine voice with just a hint of Felinze growl.
"Yes, Wendy?" I asked the ship's AI.
"Miss Hawkwind is making her way to this sector. Here's a
tactical," and a small display on the far wall of the room showed me her
path.
"Fine, thanks." I waited, and watched. She was right on time.
The doorbell rang.
"You're late!" I said, through the intercom. "For that, I want you
to strip right where you are, and leave your clothes right there on the
floor. Don't attempt to cover yourself, or hide. When you've taken off
all your clothes, get down on your knees, and kneel."
I watched, feeling a little sorry for her as she took off her
clothes, nervously watching down both ends of the curving hallway. I
watched the display. Nobody was coming, and even if someone were, Wendy
would make sure that she wasn't seen. Illusion gear's not just in the
apartment.
I waited, enjoying her discomfort, then I touched the doorslide,
and the door opened. "In."
She started to rise. "On your knees. Crawl. Chin up, eyes to the
floor. Good girl." I looked at her. She was young, soft, ripe. Her
blond tresses covered her breasts. She was lovely, and I felt not at
all bad that I was about to mark that flawless skin with welts.
She crawled in, and I closed the door. "Katherin, you understand
what's going to happen to you, here. I hope you do. Good. Remember
this, I will punish you if you fail to obey me. Understand?"
Her voice was a tiny whisper. "Yes."
"What?"
Louder, "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Do you see that chair? I want you to go and kneel in front
of it, your head on the leather." She followed my instructions,
crawling over on her knees to the chair. I stood behind her, and looked
at her shapely ass stuck high in the air. I reached between her legs
and pinched the lips of her sex, and a small squeal escaped her. I
pinched her again, a little harder, and again. She was groaning,
writhing against leather. I slapped her behind. "Stop that."
I smiled. "Slave, you told me you were not a virgin. Is this
true?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, then, slave, we'll have to come up with something new." I
slowly undid my pants. I left on the shirt I'd chosen, a white linen
shirt straight out of The Pirates of Penzance. My erection sported from
my body, hard and straight. I got behind her, and slid my cock into
her. She sighed, with pleasure, and I brought my palm sharply down
against her buttocks, and she pealed with surprise and pain. I smiled,
and reached for the open brass jar next to the chair. With hardly one
stroke, I pulled out of her, and slowly slathered my cock with the
lubricant. "Slave, have you ever had a cock in your ass?"
"Sir...No, sir," her voice filled with panic.
"Well, then, it's nice that you have something to sacrifice to your
lord, isn't it?"
I completely expected to hear her say it, but she laid her head
back down on the chair, and said "Yes, sir."
I smiled, and positioned the head of my penis against her tight
nether hole, and pushed, very gently. Slowly, the head pushed, and I
watched, fascinated, as her asshole began to expand under the insistent
pressure. She groaned, in pain or pleasure I couldn't guess, and half
the length of my cock vanished inside her. I pushed a little harder,
and then, her newly opened anus sheathing my cock so very tightly, I
sank into her, my hips pressing against her still punishment-warmed
buttocks. I sighed, the pleasure obscene. I reached down for the other
little device I'd brought, a 'butterfly,' a wonder of miniaturized grav
devices, flex surfaces, and biocybe. I reached under her body and
pressed it against her cunt. She groaned. The biocybe told the
butterfly what worked, and the grav/flex surfaces abused her clitoris.
It was a very effective masturbator, and now I was using it on her.
Slowly I began to fuck her, and her body spasmed wildly,
uncontrollably, and I began to feel my orgasm.
Faster and faster, ravishing her virgin anus, taking her for the
first time, and her body was wracked with the pleasure and the force.
My balls tightened and in one big, final thrust, I came, spewing into
her bowels, filling her with my seed. She screamed in time with me...
And she passed out, which meant the little red triangle that was
the butterfly deactivated automatically. The only thought running
through my mind was 'I will not pass out, I will not pass out' over and
over, as my cock slowly lost what erection it had left, and slithered
out of her asshole. I picked up the butterfly, it had fallen to the
floor, and I put it down on the table. "Wendy," I said, panting
horribly, "I need a bath drawn, and the gravity lowered to twenty-five
percent." She dropped the gravity a little fast, and my head reeled
under the literal light-headedness. I recovered, and I picked up Kathy.
I walked over to the bath I shared with my neighbor, T'Cade, and I
stepped into, grateful that the low grav let me handle her easily. It
was warm, wonderful. I held her, her head nestled against my chest, and
waited.
After about ten minutes, I heard her stir. "Hey, Princess..."
She looked up. "Hi," she whispered, a little weakly.
"Hi yourself. Feel okay, Kathy?"
"Huh? Oh...Ken..." she reached up and put her arms around my neck,
and kissed me hard. "Thank you, thank you, I love you," and she held me
to her like she never would let me go. "That was so...so...perfect, oh
Gods, please, tell me we'll do that again..."
"We will. I'm so proud of my little princess," I said, slowly
picking up a washsponge and washing her back. I looked at the welts on
her buttocks. They'd go down, but she wouldn't forget this for a week.
"Thank you," she whispered again.
I won't go into great detail about the rest of our shipboard
romance, other than to say it was a subject of great rumor onthe crew's
part and great discretion on Wendy's part. It wasn't always as
abusiveas it was above. She passed my class, and we began to work
together on projects as friends, lovers, coworkers. I taught her
Ameslan, and we worked out a complex series of hand signals to say,
privately, when we were 'in the game,' as we came to call it.
There are two stories,though, that I feel should be told, and they
are included next in this string of Journal Entries, even though they
are chronologically out of sequence with the SAP project Journal
Entries.
Ken Shardik, 133/0914
________________________________________________________________________
Elf Sternberg | I: Imagination. The only equipment you really need.
elf@halcyon.wa.com | -- Mistress Antoinette's Bondage Basics A to Z
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