"It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime.
So let me say
Before we part....
So much of me is made
Of what I learned from you.
You'll be with me
Like a hand-print on my heart..."
~For Good, Wicked.
Maxine Juliet Rothschild
Max, as all who value their lives call her, was born into a British family of good blood and decent money. She was born 5 minutes before her twin brother, Daniel, on October 15, 1977 in Shadoxhurst, England. Until the age of 6, Max and her brother lived with their parents on the family estate. However, on a cold winter's eve in January, 1983, Max's parents Sarah and Jonothan, were killed in a car accident on the M20. The twins were then taken in by their uncle, Warren Bourne, Sarah's older brother. It was with Uncle Warren that the twins began to see a very different world around them. It was a world filled with wonder and with wickedness. Uncle Warren was a Hunter, having inherited the position from his grandfather. Warren was, at first, hesitant to bring Max into the fold, as he was a little “old school” when it came to women and weaponry. But upon finding that Daniel would rather sit with his nose stuck in a book, whereas Max picked up the first pointy object that came to hand, Warren stepped into the 21st century.
When not attending boarding school and trying to burn it to the ground, Max spent her time drilling physically and mentally to fight the creatures of the night. Warren also taught her that not all the creatures out there were there to harm humans, and that many could be considered allies. Vampires, however, were not on the good and trusting side. No sparkles here, thank you very much.
Whilst Max lunged and parried, Daniel spent his time in libraries and dusty book shops, finding and then memorizing endless facts and trivia. Want to know which Fae creature can kill you with a look (Which one can't is a better question), or how to actually bring down a friendly werewolf who's flown into a rage? You would ask Daniel and he'd spit the answer up in less time than it takes an English footballer to recover from a seemingly shattered leg. It was during these studies that Daniel encountered Ambroas McArlin, a dashing Scotsman who rapidly and totally seduced the bookworm into his eternal embrace. For, you see, McArlin was a vampire.
Max, in the north of England at the time fighting off a pack of werewolves, felt the Requiem begin for Daniel. She felt her twin die, the sharp bite of his killer, the blood flowing from his artery. Then, for the first time in her life, Max could no longer feel Daniel. A piece of her soul was gone, ripped away.But then something flowed back in to fill the void. The presence was colder, more aloof, yet familiar. Forgetting about the werewolves, Max dashed home, desperate to find her brother and to understand what had happened.
He found her instead.
On the train ride home, Max was forced to switch trains at a small station, in an even smaller town. But due to heavy rain the connecting train was canceled and Max was forced to find a room for the evening in a quaint B&B. At about 3am, there came a knock at her door. Warily, one hand clutching her rapier, Max pulled the door open to see her brother standing on the threshold. As she had sensed he was no longer the man she'd known.
His pallor was translucent, his already high cheekbones standing out in sharp relief as though they would pierce his paper-thin skin at the slightest provocation. But what caught Max's attention was the lack of glasses. Though she'd teased her brother he would one day go blind from all the reading he did, Daniel had already needed glasses from the age of 3. He was blind as the proverbial bat without them. And he was incapable of using contacts as his squeamishness stopped him from even coming close to touching his own eyeball. Now he stood before her, no glasses and no near-sighted squinting.
“Hello, Max,” he said, quietly. “I'm glad I found you. I need to...” he stopped as the point of a rapier touched his throat.
“You're not Daniel,” Max growled, her hand trembling only slightly.
“Yes, Max, I am.” Daniel sighed, then glanced over his shoulder. “Please, let me come in. Unless you wish to explain to the dear woman downstairs why you're holding me at sword point.”
Stepping back, slowly, Max allowed the man claiming to be her brother to enter . She gestured to an overstuffed armchair in the corner. “Sit.”
“Thank you.” Daniel,kept his hands where Max could see them and sat on the edge of the chair. He sighed. “I've made a grave mistake.”
“I allowed myself to be caught in the web of a very charming, very handsome stranger and now,” Daniel gestured vaguely at himself, “this is what I've become.”
“And that would be?” Max did not lower her sword.
“Really, Max, Uncle Warren would be very disappointed in you.”
“He's not here.”
“Thank the gods for that,” the smile was tired, teeth barely showing. “He likely would have chopped my head off the moment he opened the door.”
“Should I have?”
“Maybe.” A deep sigh. “I'm not too sure of that myself.” Daniel's gaze, which were trained on the rather worn and stained carpet, came up to meet his sister's. In their blue depths she saw sorrow, pain, anguish... and something more. Something alive. Max looked away.
And in that moment of inattention, Max found herself disarmed, thrown to the ground and knelt upon. Her left arm, her fencing arm, was pulled roughly behind her, hard enough to make something pop.
“See what I've become,” his voice in her ear, his skin cool against her neck. “I am not what I was. I am so much more. I have bested you for the first time in our lives. And you know what, Max?” Here a further tug on her arm, causing her to gasp in pain. “I rather think I like it.”
“Daniel...” through gritted teeth. “Stop, please.”
“Why should I?”
“Because you don't want to do this.”
“Oh, but Max, my sweet sister. I do want to do this.” This time something popped in her shoulder, causing Max to bite her tongue to stop from crying out. “And that...is what so frightens me.”
Suddenly she was free, the weight gone from her back. Her released arm slid down into a more normal position, but fiery pain burned in the joint. It wasn't dislocated, but pretty damn close. She stood quickly, rubbing at the pain, her eyes seeking her attacker. Daniel was back in the chair. Her sword was in his hands, his fingers tracing the delicate silver webbing of the guard.
“You're a Vampire.”
“A prize for the young lady.”
“How?” Could she make it to the door before Daniel?
“Ambroas. He is one of them.”
“The man you met at college? The one you were dating?” Thoughts of escape slipped from her mind as Max stared at her twin, dumbfounded. “You were dating a vampire?”
Another sigh. “Yes and no. I'm sure on some level I knew. After all, his names means “immortal”. But he was so...”
“Undead?” Max stepped back from the heat of Daniel's glare.
“Mock me if you wish, I suppose I deserve it.” His fingers continued to move across the metal of the sword, now caressing the sharpened edge. No blood dripped from his fingers, though Max knew the sword to be razor sharp. “I allowed him to seduce me, I thought he was different. I thought... he loved me.”
Silence. Utter silence.
“You think me a fool.” It was not a question.
“I think,” Max said carefully, “you made a terrible choice. I would have thought you'd have killed him on sight.”
“You say that, Max, and yet you allowed me in your room.”
“You're my brother!”
“Am I? Am I really?” Daniel's voice was harsh, his eyes beginning to burn with what Max understand was hunger. “Then why do I wish to take you in my arms and drain you of life? You, who has been with me since the womb. You, who has protected me since you were able to walk. You, who are as much a part of me as I am a part of you. Why then, dear sister, do I wish to suck you dry?”
“I...” Max stuttered, emotion closing her throat.
“And yet, to hurt you would kill me. I can feel that as readily as I can taste your blood in the air. Oh, may the gods take me now.” Daniel's head fell into his hands, the sword dropping to carpet. Max made no move for it.
“Did you come here to ask me to kill you?” Her voice was ice, cold and steady, though her pulse roared in her ears.
“I will not."
“I will not kill you.”
“You won't do your duty?” Daniel's voice was raw. “You'll not strike me down as you 've been trained to do?”
“I was trained to protect my family. I was trained to protect the innocent.” Stepping forward, Max knelt before Daniel, her hand coming to rest atop his head, smoothing his dark hair flat. “I will not kill you, as you do not wish to die.”
“No, you don't, Daniel. If you wished to die you would have done it yourself. You came here to seek forgiveness.” Her hand slipped beneath his chin, bringing his head up so she could gaze into those familiar yet now so strange eyes. “I forgive the mistake you made, but I charge you with a task in return.”
“You continue the fight against the darkness of which you have become a part. Learn of vampires from the inside and help those of us on the outside to fight them.” He turned his head, like a curious puppy, causing Max to muss the hair she had just smoothed.
“That won't be easy, Max.”
“I didn't think it would be. But mistakes have been made and you must do what you can to set things right. It is what we were trained to do.” And you, she accused herself, were trained to protect Daniel. You have mistakes to make up for as well.
“But what of Uncle Warren and the Red Shield?” Daniel spoke of the compact of hunters of which they and their uncle were a part. “They will not be nearly so understanding.”
“Let me deal with them. I'm no longer a child they can boss around and send to her room for being naughty.” Max found herself smiling. It was grim, but it was a smile.
“I don't want you to get hurt.”
This time the smile came far easier. “A little late on that one, dear brother, seeing as how you almost dislocated my shoulder.”
“It was an odd feeling.” Daniel replied thoughtfully. “I'd never been the one doing the arm pulling." He paused. "Max, what if I do hurt someone, seriously? What if I kill someone?”
“I don't know.” Max stood. “Should you need me, I will be there for you.”
“And I for you.”
“Now, I think you need to leave, Daniel. I … need time to process this.”
“Yes, yes,” Daniel nodded, sounding more like the awkward bookworm Max had known. “I think vampires can still use email and cell phones... in case you wish to talk.” He sounded so unsure.
“I will, Daniel. I promise.” She watched as Daniel moved to the door, opened it and stepped into the hall. “Daniel?”
“Yes,” he looked back over his shoulder.
“I love you, little brother.”
“I love you too, Max.” And then he was gone, and Max was left standing in a small room, in a small town, feeling ever so lost.
The meeting with the Order of the Red Shield did not go well. In fact, it went about as bad as it could have, seeing as how they first threw her out of the Order and than decided to try and extract further information from her using less than humane means. By the time that Max found herself thrown from the back seat of a moving vehicle below the White Cliffs of Dover, the shoulder injury Daniel had inflicted had been lost amongst the myriad other cuts, bruises and breaks her ex-comrades had dealt her as going away presents.
Dragging herself into a sitting position, Max gazed out at the choppy water of the Channel and decided that the UK wasn't where she needed to be. She knew the fight against the darkness was being fought everywhere on the Earth, so a move to a more... welcoming… climate would not interfere with her personal vigil.
With a last look back at the ghostly white cliffs, Max walked towards the docks to find passage to a brand new world.
- Current Mood: enthralled
When we have settled into our new place I promise to write and post a new fanfic. Honestly!!!
Only there is one catch - what should said fanfic be about? I will happily take in suggestions to help kickstart my muses. Slashfic, shipfic, regular ol'fic, AU fic...you name it, I'll try it. Do, please, keep it within the realm of known fandoms so I don't have to research. (Stargate, Buffy, Angel, Water Rats, Due South, Pushing Daisies, Get Smart, Harry Potter, Doctor Who and Farscape) You can ask about other ones but I can promise anything!
- Current Mood: rushed
Voting for the Bluemoon SG awards has now commenced, and will be open until August 31. So, get over there and vote for the most awesome fics, videos, multi-media, etc that can be found for Adult oriented SG stuff. Make sure you look at everything, as I'm not here to say "YOU MUST VOTE FOR ME!!" (though I would like you too, *g*). There are so many creative people out there and they should all be recognized so they keep the good stuff flowing.
Just be careful - I've already had a couple of fluid from the nose moments!
- Current Location:The Desk
- Current Mood: chipper
- Current Music:Softly blowing fans
One little caveat - it has to be your own work, as I have no intention of stepping on anyone's creative toes.
- Current Mood: mischievous
I'm not sure which if you lovely people out there nominated my original Sam/Vala story, but thank you! I received the message from Bluemoon on Monday and was thrilled with it. Considering how the next two days panned out (flying to Winnipeg, getting sinus headache, passing out from sinus meds, getting evacuated from our hotel because it was on fire, getting heatstroke from standing outside, watching said fire, then having our plane home delayed by two hours, which meant we almost didn't get to land because of heavy fog) was one of the things that got me through.
That, and I accidently stole a napkin from the hotel, which became a cold compress, a blindfold, a small pillow and a face cloth, as the day went along. That napkin is now going to be an essential part of my travelling kit. LOL
But anyways, please keep an eye out at http://www.moonsmusings.com/bluemoon/ for voting to open!
- Current Location:home
- Current Mood: bouncy
- Current Music:birdsong and lawnmowers
At the moment I am unable to upload it to any workable site, and as I'm on a free account for LJ, that's a no go either. So, if you want to hear the story, drop me a message and we'll work out an email download or something. Stupid technology.
Comments are welcome!
- Current Location:Home
- Current Mood: frustrated
- Current Music:the ticktack of keys
Though I can't say when the next part will be forthcoming, I can promise you that Vala and Sam are far from done with each other. *grin*
- Current Mood: sore
Title: Where There’s A Jekyll, There’s A Hyde
Feedback Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Rating: R (you got slash, you got bondage, you got sex - it’s R-rated baby!)
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Summary: Vala gets her comeuppance (Man, I do so love that word!)
Warnings/Spoilers: There ain’t no spoilers to be found here, but if you’ve got an issue with the leather culture or D/s lifestyle go and stick your head back in the vanilla sand, this story t’aint for you!
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, though I love them as if they were my own. MGM, Gekko, and people with far more power than I, carry all rights to Stargate SG1, all copyrighted material associated with said show and characters, as well as all marketing rights. Please don’t bloody well sue me for this bit o’fun… I’m not worth much anyways.
A grunt, a rustling and intense pain in her lower back where someone’s foot was imbedded, woke Samantha Carter, bringing her to full consciousness. Rolling over brought her face to face with the owner of the foot, and when her eyes focused on the features memory flooded back.
Her, strapped down and bound in leather; Vala standing above her, whip in hand. No escape and no desire to do so.
Good god, had it been real?
The woman lying next to her, snoring lightly, spoke to the positive.
Gently, so as not to wake Vala, Sam edged out of the sheets gained her feet and picked up her bathrobe. She went into the ensuite, closed the door carefully then moved to sit on the edge of the tub. Elbows on knees, Sam ran her fingers through her hair gripping as if to hold onto her sanity. What had she done? God, what had they done?
Her mind going into analytical overdrive, Sam began to think of damage control. No one on the base could know about this, it would jeopardize SG1’s field readiness, it would make the team dynamics more than awkward and it would give General O’Neill far too much to think about.
“Good morning, Sunshine.” The unexpected voice startled Sam out of her reverie and her skin. She jumped and spun, the motion of which caused her rump to slip on the smooth porcelain sending her backwards into the tub. “I see you’ve already started your morning exercises.”
“You surprised me, Vala,” Sam said, pulling herself upright, and determinedly ignoring the redness suffusing her cheeks.
“Statement of the obvious, Samantha.” Vala leaned back against the sink, arms crossed, watching as Sam extricated herself from the tub. She was clad in one of Sam’s old Academy t-shirts the hem of which just managed to reach mid-thigh and her hair, usually pulled back into a Lara Croft-like ponytail, was flowing free. “I thought it was normal practice to fill the bathtub with water before getting in.” She raised one perfectly plucked brow, “And one usually removes one’s clothes, doesn’t one?”
“I wasn’t planning on taking a bath.”
“Then what were you doing in here?”
“About redecorating? I think blue would be a much nicer colour than the sterile white you’ve got going in here.” Vala was looking down at Sam, who had regained her perch. “I keep expecting Dr. Frasier to jump out of the linen closet with her penlight.”
“Alright,” Vala’s expression softened at the frustration in Sam’s voice, “if you weren’t contemplating paint shades what were you thinking about?”
“I don’t know.”
Again the raised brow, “I see.”
“I… I was trying to… I was thinking about last night.”
“Ah,” Vala crossed one leg over the other, bringing the t-shirt up another couple of inches. Sam slid her gaze sideways, pretending to be interested in the toilet brush. Neither woman believed it. “And what was going on in that genius brain of yours, Sam?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“How do we deal with what happened? Where do we go from here?” Sam hated the desperation in her voice, hated feeling so vulnerable. Hated the fact her eyes kept roving away from the toilet brush and back to Vala’s thighs. Hated the smug expression on the other woman’s face…wait…“Vala, why aren’t you smirking at me?”
“Why aren’t you smirking at me? That’s what you do in situations like these.” Vala was frowning now, staring back in confusion. Sam felt unaccountably angry at her for not gloating, for not being the Vala who enjoyed one upping everyone around her. “Whenever you see someone show vulnerability, or beat them in an argument or…or just because you feel like doing it, you smirk at them.”
“I do?” No sarcasm, no false innocence.
“Yes, dammit, you do!” Sam felt the need to attack grow, pushing aside embarrassment and insecurity. “That’s what you do, Vala. You make people feel stupid, you mock them and toy with them. You’re a consummate con artist and god knows you enjoy fucking with people. And when you get that step on someone, when you know you’ve got them by the nose, you smirk. Your lip quirks up, your nose wrinkles and your eyes get this self-amused glint to them. You do it whether you’ve one-upped a G’oauld system lord or just beaten Daniel at a game of chess. But you always do it when you’re in control, so why the hell aren’t you doing it now?”
For a moment all was silence, excepting Sam’s angry panting. Vala’s brows had knitted together, her forehead layered like a pug.
“Really? My nose wrinkles when I smirk?”
“AOOGHGHGHGHHH!!!!” Sam sprang from the tub and grabbed Vala’s shoulders, her fingers bunching the t-shirt into handholds. “You are so god damn infuriating!”
“But, Sam, I was serious!” Vala protested, her hand coming up to touch her nose, “How wrinkled does it get?”
“That’s so it!” Sam, with the speed of a striking cobra, snatched Vala’s wrist, twisted and yanked the other woman’s arm behind her back. Vala’s mewl of protest and most probably pain was lost as Sam’s lips smashed into hers. Blood was drawn as Sam’s incisor nipped the tender inside of Vala’s lip, though neither woman pulled back. To be truthful, Vala couldn’t have if she’d tried as Sam’s free hand was wrapped in her hair, forcibly holding her still. Heedless of Vala’s own sharp teeth, Sam’s tongue darted in and out. Exploring. Conquering.
The kiss, if one could use that word to describe such a battle, raged on in that land of timelessness which such things inhabited. When Sam did finally pull back, chest heaving, her anger had not abated. It felt stoked, like a small fire fed with gasoline until it roars.
“You brought that bag home, didn’t you?” Sam was gasping between words, her thinking at combat speed. “Where is it?”
“Sam? What are you doing?” Though apprehensive, licking her bitten lip, Vala showed no fear. In fact, something akin to anticipation danced in those dark pools.
“Teaching you a lesson that has been long in coming.” Eyes flicking over the bathroom they alighted upon her robe, hanging on the back of the door. With a quick snap that Professor Jones would have been proud of, Sam pulled the sash from its loop and spun Vala around, pressing her against the sink. The terrycloth was wrapped around the smaller woman’s wrists with enough left over to serve as a makeshift leash. A smart tug and Vala found herself dancing backwards into the bedroom, fighting hard to keep her balance and her bearings. “Now, where’s the bag?”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with it if I did tell you. Ai!” Vala yipped as Sam spun her into the wall, body pressed flat, knee between her legs.
“The first thing I do is find something to fill that mouth.”
Eyes smoldering, smirk in full force, Vala replied, “Yeah, good luck with that.” Sam’s gazed locked on Vala’s, two lionesses vying for dominance. Miraculously Vala looked away first.
“Where is it, Vala?”
“Under your bed.”
“You’re ever so welcome, Colonel.”
“You just never learn, do you?” A smile, much colder than Sam usually wore, crept across her lips. Vala shivered. “Chilled?”
“Just a tad.”
“Well, I’m sure we can do something to fix that,” Sam pulled on the leash and, stumbling, Vala followed her across the bedroom. A rough shove and she found herself face down on the bedspread, legs kicking uselessly in the air. The sound of nylon sliding on carpet confirmed that Sam had indeed discovered the bag’s hiding place and a zipper being undone sent another shiver skittering along Vala’s spine.
“Ah, I think this’ll do the job.”
Dangling from Sam’s hand, swinging like a pendulum, was a large purple ball gag. Vala’s eyes followed the back and forth motion like an audience member at magic show. She was so mesmerized that she almost didn’t fight back as Sam attempted to jam it into her mouth. “Almost” would be the operative word, as Vala did snap back to reality just as the blonde was leaning down, straps held at the ready.
Sam had made the rookie mistake of not securing her captive’s feet before coming in to close range, and she paid for it. Vala’s long well-muscled leg pistoned up, catching Sam in the ribs and sending her sprawling to the floor. Another second and Vala had rolled herself onto her feet and was making for the bedroom door, planning on getting to the guest bathroom and locking Sam out. Things did not go as planned as Sam grabbed one of Vala’s ankles and brought her down hard. Scrambling up the brunette’s withering body, Sam straddled her, grabbed Vala’s hair and pulled. It had the desired effect of making the other woman scream, thereby allowing the ball gag to pop behind her teeth, silencing her mid-yell.
“GRrg, mmmm rggr!”
“You really shouldn’t have kicked me,” Sam leaned back, riding Vala like a bucking bronco. Mindful of the madly kicking legs, she reached over to the bag and pulled out a pair of leather leg cuffs, also purple in colour. “But then we all know how Vala’s impulsiveness doesn’t often bring great happiness.”
Working carefully, Sam brought her victim’s legs down and together, locking both the cuffs and a short chain together with padlocks. Seeing that her makeshift bondage with the robe’s sash was in danger of coming loose, she reached for and found that same straightjacket Vala had used on her the night before. Ignoring the complicated rush of emotions that came with the sensuous feel of the jacket’s leather in her hands, Sam bent to the task of getting Vala’s thrashing limbs into the armholes. A few well-timed and painful smacks to the ass were enough to stun the smaller woman into momentary submission and soon Sam had her fully trussed and secured.
The first rush of anger and frustration had ebbed and Sam found her vision clearing of the red haze she’d heretofore been seeing the world through. Now she took a good long look at the bound woman squirming on the floor and she smiled. Vala sawit and squirmed harder. She knew the look on Sam’s face, knew it all too well, having seen it in the mirror on more than one occasion. It was the look a cat got when it was playing with a mouse that had no chance of escape. And, surprisingly, it sent a thrill through Vala’s nether regions.
“Ah shit,” Vala said, though because of the ball gag it came out sounding more like, “ahhh, sifff.” Sam, however, seemed to get the gist of it.
“I wonder what else is in this bag of tricks, hmmm Vala? Shall we take a peek?” Rolling off her captive, Sam took the bag and upended it on the carpet, watching with acute curiosity as things of all shapes and colours fell out. Some she couldn’t identify, others were self-explanatory and some were just downright weird. Such as the blue dolphin-shaped wiggling vibrator which apparently played music. The wiggling-vibrator part she got, but who wanted musical accompaniment, especially “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies”?
Something was niggling at her subconscious as Sam shifted through the bag’s contents. Everything was brand new, some things still in their original packaging, as of they’d never been used. Not that Sam had a hell of a lot of experience with toy bags, but she didn’t think it was normal for someone to be carrying around all new stuff. Hell, there was still a receipt in the pile, with the purchaser’s Visa card number…and name…
“Samantha Carter.” Vala, who had been rather distracted with her escape attempts, rolled over at Sam’s seemingly random voicing of her own name. Her eyes fell on the scrap of paper in the blonde’s hand and her eyes widened in panic. She looked up to see those baby blues staring at her in shock.
“You bought this with my credit card…last week.” Sam was feeling that anger demon beginning to stir, deep in her stomach. “You had the entire thing planned, didn’t you?”
“Don’t even think of trying to play innocent with me, Vala.” Sam stared down at the pile of toys, mind racing. “You had the guy bring in the bag as if it was his, as if you were just lucky enough to take advantage of the situation. But you’d left nothing up to chance, had you? Even grabbing my wallet so you would have my card when you needed to confirm the purchase. You conniving little…”
“Oh, I am so going to enjoy this.” Reaching out and grabbing items, lining them up so she could see what each was meant for, and if she couldn’t discern their use putting them back in the bag for future research. Sam let her mind free-form. “Have I ever mentioned that I love irony? That I find it to be the most amusing of all forms of humour? Ohh, and I’ve always loved when someone gets their comeuppance.”
“Sarrmmm?” Vala looked up at her, pleading. Sam just smiled back and reached for a long dark green dildo and the accompanying bottle of lube.
“But the question is, how do I get this into you without you braining me?” Sam looked around the bedroom, wondering if using her Zat would be overkill. Instead her eyes alighted on the foot of her bed, where two sturdy oak posts jutted upwards. Who needed alien technology when you had old-style craftsmanship?
Vala was heavier than she looked, most of the woman’s frame being given over to muscle, so that Sam was glad she had a weight-lifting regimen. With a few grunts and muttered oaths she had her prisoner on the bed and began the process of spread-eagling her to the bed posts. Thankfully Vala had had the foresight to purchase enough rope to circle the globe at least twice, so Sam had no trouble finding enough to secure her. Once this was done, she again picked up the dildo and lube, as well as a small red butt-plug and a pair of latex panties with built-in vibrating bullet. The last made her quirk an eyebrow at the trussed woman, who sighed and shrugged.
What Sam noticed immediately after removing the crotch strap of the straightjacket was the musky scent and rather copious amounts of natural lubricant waiting within. Her lips curling into a feral grin, Sam laughed roughly and stuck two fingers between Vala’s dewy lips. The woman’s reaction was electric.
Vala surged upwards, pulling hard on the ropes binding her legs to the posts, unashamedly impaling herself farther onto Sam fingers. At the same time, from between her gagged lips, surged a howl of need. Sam froze, shocked, suddenly unsure of what to do. She hadn’t expected that sort of reaction, her expectations moving more along the lines of Vala shouting gagged curses at her and struggling to get away. Pretty much anything but this.
For her part, Vala was somewhere beyond thinking. For a woman who’d spent most of her life in control, or at least being the controller of others, she was reveling in her submission. From the moment Sam’s fingers had entered her, all Vala wanted was to be used, and used hard. So, why the hell was nothing going on below? Her eyes, squeezed shut, flew open and she stared down at the blonde, sitting like a statue. Good god, didn’t the woman have any clue?
“MMppphhh!!” Vala growled and humped her hips, moving Sam’s fingers along with her. Whether by accident or by instinct Sam’s thumb found Vala’s clit and sent her into paroxysms of bliss. Her hips moved faster as Sam increased the pressure, building up the needed friction to take some of the edge off. But just as she was racing towards said edge, the fingers and thumb were suddenly gone. “MPPHHPH PHPPM SIIFIFFF!!”
“Calm down, Vala, you’ll get there in the end.” Panting around the gag, a fog of mindless need greying her vision, Vala glared down at the woman sitting between her legs. Sam had apparently come to a decision judging by the confident set of her quirked lips. “But you need to remember, I’m in control now. Not you. Understand.?”
Vala continued to glare.
Sam flicked her finger against Vala’s clit. Hard.
“Good. Now lie still so I don’t go sticking anything in the wrong hole.” Vala decided to lie still.
Swiftly and with a good deal of minor torture, Sam had both of Vala’s waiting orifices filled and her clit well lubed beneath the latex panty. In her hand she held a remote control (for the bullet) and a short riding crop (for any needed corrections). “Now, I’m going to go and have a shower, brush my teeth and change into something a bit more fitting for this sort of scene. You’re going to lie here and behave, got it?” A flick of the crop against Vala’s inner thigh had her nodding in agreement. “Good. But I don’t want you to be bored.”
Moving her thumb on the remote, Sam started the bullet moving at its lowest setting. She then snugged down the crotch strap of the straightjacket, pushing the vibrator firmly against Vala’s clit.
It was enough.
Hips reaching for the sky, the unexpected orgasm avalanched through Vala, her entire body going as rigid as if she’d been hit by lightning. She screamed into her gag, teeth biting hard enough to leave permanent marks in the rubber. Her back arched, her weight now on only her shoulders and heels. Sam, surprised, went with her instincts and turned the vibrator up higher.
Ten minutes later Vala was still feeling the after shocks, small twitches in her clit, and a surrounding sense of rightness with the world. The afterglow was shattered when Sam leaned down and kissed her just as she turned on the bullet once more. Vala’s eyes popped open, and she shook her head in desperation.
“That was very entertaining, Vala. So much so that I want to see it again. And again.” She bent down and kissed her captive on the nose, ignoring the glare of death. “But, as I said, I have things to do. I would suggest not coming again, for if you do, that’ll be twice more you have to come when I’m watching. And don’t think I won’t know…” Sam pointed to the side table, where a small digital video recorder sat, its red “Record” light blazing merrily.
“Glad we have an agreement.” As Sam stepped into the ensuite bathroom, leaving the door open so Vala could see her strip, the bound captive realized something. Sam had been smirking at her. As the vibrations began working her towards another inevitable orgasm, Vala came to the conclusion that smirking was a dangerous pastime, one that could often bring unforeseen consequences. She’d have to make sure Sam learned her own lesson. Eventually…
- Current Mood: chipper
- Current Music:Wicked
Okay, so I had to go into work on my day off, and I was ill on Saturday, so I didn't get a chance to write as much as I wanted to. However, I'll give you guys a part of the Sam/Janet fic just to wet the appetite!
Title: Putting Carter Back Together 1/?
Rating: Not even PG for part 1. Don't worry, I intend on it getting steamier!
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Summary: Janet has that dang unrequited love thing going on.
Warnings/Spoilers: None as of yet, and no warning unless you don't like femslash. In which case... SHOO!!
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, though I love them as if they were my own. MGM, Gekko, and someone with far more power than I, carry all rights to Stargate SG1, all copyrighted material associated with said show and characters, as well as all marketing rights. Please don’t bloody well sue me for this bit o’fun… I’m not worth much anyways.
Author's Notes: This is just part one, I have no idea where Janet's going to lead me. But I'm sure it'll be fun.
Beta: Who needs a beta? LOL Any mistakes are mine and I love them!
“You’re not serious…are you?”
“I’m always serious, Sam.”
Sam Carter harrumphed into her mug, ignoring the glare her friend shot her. It was early in the morning, and on days when she wasn’t off saving the planet Sam was not what one would consider a morning person. So, if she pissed Janet Frasier off, it wasn’t going to eat away at her conscience. Even if the smaller woman’s glare was formidable.
“You want me to take a month off for recuperation? A month away from the SGC?”
“Injuries have a way of catching up to you, Sam. And you’ve had three concussions in the last two weeks. Not to mention the torn muscles in your back, the still healing scars and interesting rope burns you received on your last outing.” Janet shook her head, her brown eyes closing in frustration, and hoping her friend couldn’t see how worried she actually was. Sam had a way of downplaying her pain, even to herself. It was a dangerous habit. And an irritating one for the CMO. “You need to take a break.”
“Janet, I can’t. There are experiments I’m in the middle of.”
“Let your assistants handle them.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Don’t you trust them?”
“Of course I do, but that’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“That,” Sam paused, blushed, “I want to be there for the results. And what about SG1?”
“Daniel’s doing a lecture tour, Teal’c is working off planet with small group of Jaffa, and Colonel O’Neill is heading out to participate in an international hockey tournament.” Janet ticked off each member of SG1 on her fingers. “Somehow I think they can manage without you, Sam.”
“Are you still going to resist me?” There was something dangerous in the petite woman’s tone, something that set the hairs on Sam’s neck to full attention. She frowned, trying to discern what was coming from Janet’s unreadable expression.
“Fine. Here.” Janet handed Sam a sheet of type written paper, signed at the bottom. As she took in the words Sam’s emotions boiled over.
“Janet, you’ve gone too far!” she growled angrily. “Getting General Hammond to temporarily remove me from active duty? How is that going to look in my file?”
“It won’t be in your file, Sam, if you just take some time off.” She hated the fact her friend was livid at her, but Sam had pushed her into taking serious action. “The General agreed with me that you would be of no use to the SGC if you drove yourself into the ground. He wrote and signed this order in case you wouldn’t listen to me. If you force me to use it, then that decision will be on your head.”
“You bet your ass it is, Major.” Janet snatched the sheet of paper from Sam’s clenching fists. “And I have no qualms doing it. Trust me, I’m not bluffing you, Sam. And I am truly worried about you. You’re my friend as well as my patient.”
“What the hell am I going to do for a month? I’ll die of boredom, Janet.” Sam glared up at the ceiling, her jaw clenched. “I just don’t do well on my own, without something to do.”
“Then come hang out with me.” Janet smiled at Sam’s confused look, her friend’s eyebrow quirking down, her lips puckering in. “Cassie’s going away to summer camp this year, and I’ve decided that it’s time for me to get some stuff done around the house. I thought it would be nice if she came home and had her room redone.”
“She has been complaining how it’s too little girlish.”
“Every damn chance she gets. I forgot that the cute little girl I adopted would one day become a teenager.”
“More like you were in deep denial.” Sam, her anger ebbing away, grinned. “So, you’re telling me I need to take a break, relax, or I’m going to fall apart, but you have no qualms in shanghaiing me into home repair?”
Sam shook her head in mock disbelief. “God knows how you rose to such a level of power, Doctor.”
“Oh,” Janet’s eyes glinted with humour, “I have my ways.”
“I always thought you and the General were awful close…”
“Sam!” Janet smacked the blonde hard on the arm. “So, are you up to a little “While You Were Out”, or are you going to leave me alone with my power tools? I can promise a good supply of food and fermented grain beverages if you agree.”
“Alright,” Sam acquiesced. “It’s not like I’ve anything else to do.” There followed the ironing out of details, who was to bring which brand of beer and who was in charge of ordering pizza. If Janet was honest, she’d have to admit that having the lanky Major as her house guest had her more excited than she had any right to be. The two had been friends for years, ever since Sam had awoken in the aftermath of the infection from P3X-797 and been told she’d tried to forcibly seduce her commanding officer. The poor woman hadn’t wanted to leave the medical lab, so mortified was she at her actions. Janet had taken Sam into her office and talked her through her anxiety. The bond between them had been forged in iron, and Janet was one of the few who had known at that early stage the attraction between Jack O’Neill and his 2CO.
That knowledge had been a blessing and a curse; the confidence had given Janet her closest friend but had also shown how out of reach that friend was. There was to never be anything more between them but friendship, no matter what Janet imagined as she lay alone at night, watching the shadows flicker across her bedroom walls.
She sighed deeply. What was the point in torturing herself like this? At least she’d get to see Sam in something sexier than her BDUs. Not that there wasn’t something to be said for a woman in uniform, but when you were around it all day, every day, the novelty tended to wear thin. Now, Sam Carter in cut-offs and t-shirt, covered in paint… that was something to warm the cockles, that was.
- Current Mood: sore