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Journal Entry 00412 169 000 Kathy On The Beach Part I
Kathy On The Beach, Part I
Journal Entry 169 / 00412
Aldea, Cerim 22, 00412
I breathed in the warm night air of an alien world, and contemplated
what I was going to do, that night. The sea was green, yes, at night,
but the moon was small, and the sands were volcanic black, and the trees,
using some sort of hemophyll, were a rust color. But they did burn,
and I collected firewood. I glanced at the display on my securor-droid,
Voll, to see the weather report, and found it satisfactory. It's shaped
like a dog, only a stainless steel one. It's not sentient, and Wendy
watched me through it. I glanced at the time.
Magic. I felt it all around me, the magic of nature, of Clarke's
technology, and most importantly, of what it was I was going to do
tonight.
For tonight I was going to do something I had sworn was on the other
side of my limit. My relationship with Kathy was spectacular, both in
our affection, and the heights to which we drove our understandings of
power, and submission. We discussed our scenes beforehand, and she had
never yet used the word. But I stopped at breaking the skin. I did that
once, when using a light whip, and immediately stopped the scene. She was
disappointed, but she understood. That was my limit, I was making a mark.
But tonight, of her own free will, I would shed Kathy's blood on this
sand, and leave a mark on her body nature could not erase.
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"You have got to be kidding." I was sure she was.
"No, Ken, listen, I'm deadly serious. I want this."
"But, but... Look, remember that time with the whip? You know I can't
stand blood."
"Bullshit. You've a registered medical degree, you're registered on the
Cutter's list." Her voice softened. "Look, Ken, it's symbolic. I love you.
I want to do this as a symbol of just how far that goes. Look, I know you.
You write in your journals every day, you write poetry, position papers. I
know you, I know you write. I haven't lived with you for almost a year
now without knowing that. You've a romantic soul, and you know it. You
can understand, can't you?" she said, in that frustratingly pleading
voice that always melted my heart.
And the most damning thing about the whole thing was that Yes, I did
understand what she meant, what she wanted. I'd seen the vast and profound
depths of her soul she wanted to explore; I'd even seen them in me,
and that's scary. From behind me, I heard her whisper one word, "Please?"
I stood there, my back to her, and said "Okay. Three days from now,
Isilya, okay? Meet Lance at SDisk room three, and he'll know where to
send you."
She looked at me, unsure. "Are you sure you want to do this, Ken?"
"No, I'm not sure at all. Yes, I am. Yes, I do. But, Kathy..."
"Yeah?"
"One thing. You realize that once I start, the word doesn't work. Once
it's begun, there's no way to stop it."
She looked at me, then nodded. "I know."
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I looked up. The moon was almost overhead. Ian had been ticked that I'd
asked for shore leave today, but he knew he didn't need me and Gods know
I deserved some. Besides, I could always pull the 'personal emergency'
crap on him.
I picked up the magnesium charge I'd brought and threw it into the
firewood. The bonfire lit, and with the way I'd made it, it would burn
for hours. It cast a great glow over the black beach.
I checked my pocket, for the three needles, the hook, and the lock. They
were there, all in their respective boxes. I sighed. My watch chimed.
There was a shimmering over to my left, and I turned to see Kathy
becoming solid from the teleporter. When the stasis field dropped,
she fell to her knees. "I am here, my lord."
"Yes, slave. I know. And you know for what you have come?"
"Yes, my lord. I am here to serve, to submit to your desires, no matter
what they may be."
"Then rise, remove your clothing, and follow me." She stood, and I led
her to the driftwood log I'd found and moved near the fire, not too near
to burn, but enough light. "Sit." I'd placed a blanket on the ground
and under the log, so there wouldn't be sand everywhere. She sat, and
I moved around to the back of the log. I grabbed a wrist, and stretched
her arm our along the log, and secured it with a fetter. Then the same
with her other wrist, so she was tied down to the log, her head resting
against it, her body lain across the blanket. I put the firm pillow I'd
brought under her ass, raising it up. I spread her legs, and knelt between
them. I reached over for the little leather box, hiding its contents,
the sterilization field and the three needles. I opened it.
She noticed it. "Ken?" She asked. As our relationship had progressed,
we'd learned what names were appropriate when.
"Yes, slave?"
"Three? I thought..."
"Kathy, if you want this as badly as I think you do, you will do this
my way, is that understood?"
"Yes... yes sir." She looked at me, nervous, and I think a little
disbelieving. Just three days ago I'd been arguing against this.
I took out one needle, and the small bottle, and the cloth. I spread
her pubic hair, and exposed her cunt. It was wet, from her excitement,
which was there even frightened as she was. I gently, softly tugged at
her inner labia, watching it swell with her heat, and I gently swabbed
it with the wetted cloth. I looked up at her, and her eyes flicked back
and forth between my hands and my face.
"Are you ready? Are you sure?" I asked, one last time.
She looked at me, and she nodded, and one whisper, one "yes."
I took the needle, and high on the inside of her smaller labia, I pressed
the tip gently, the cuirboil pad on my finger ready to receive it, and in
one sharp thrust I drove it through her flesh and into the leather pad.
She whimpered, a high keening sound, a single peal of pain escaping her
lips and fading into the quiet surf. Tears streamed down her face. I
removed the needle, and found the little hook, and I put it through the
hole I'd made, and I slid the small metal posts along the gold until
they were at both sides of her labia, holding it in place. I slowly laid
the rest of the charm against her mons veneris. She was breathing hard,
staring at her cunt, her tears still sliding down her cheeks and dripping
from her jawline onto her breasts. I took out the second needle.
She stared at it, and I held it up, between us. Just by refocusing our
eyes, we could either stare at each other, or the needle. She looked at
it, and slowly, she nodded.
I moved the little box nearer to where I was so I could reach the third
needle quickly, because I was going to have to. I tugged gently on her
labia, again, the same one as before, only further down, closer to her
vagina, and with the same deliberate slowness, I brought the needletip to
her flesh, and with the same force I drove it quickly through her labia.
She whimpered, much quieter this time, and looked. Her breathing was
still ragged. I quickly removed the needle, grabbed the third one,
and this time, much faster, repeated the same act on her other labia,
across from the I'd made with the second. I reached into the box,
and grabbed the lock. It was a reproduction of a Terran antique from
their 1800's, tiny, intricate, maybe two centimeters at it's longest
axis. I pressed the open latch through her first labia, and it slid
through. I quickly slid the two tiny gold rings over the latchpiece,
and separated them, and crimped them. Then I slid the latch through
her other labia, and then, with a final click, I closed the lock.
I looked up at her face, then, for the first time since I'd picked up the
second needle. There were tears, but her face was one of bewilderment. I
very quietly explained, "Katherine Hawkwind, you are mine. This lock
is on the very door of your womanhood, and I hold the key. If you are
to submit to me, then you will wear this lock as a symbol of just how
much I own you."
She looked at me, then, and slowly, I could see comprehension coloring
her eyes, and, equally slowly, she smiled, and then she nodded. With a
single command, her fetters let her go, and she hugged me, fiercely.
"You're crying," I said. "Does it still hurt?"
She smiled, again, her eyes dancing alight in the glow of moon and sea
and fire, and said, "A little. But I cry because I'm happy, Ken. You
understood! You did, you really did, you knew. Oh, Ken, you've made me
so happy, so wonderfully happy."
I smiled, and began picking up the three needles, and I threw them into
the fire. Then, with the light disinfectant, I gently wiped the blood
from her sex, and she winced as the peroxide bubbled a little. Then I
looked up into her eyes, again, and said, "I thought I had," my smile
coming to my mouth unbidden, again. "It was a real debate. I didn't know
if you would want three, especially when you saw what the extra two were
for, but I told you you had no choice."
"I know." Her face was radiant. "But your idea is perfect. Oh, gods,
they're both so pretty." She was holding the charm carefully, a small
hook charm with a black diamond and an eagle's feather.
I held up the small key. "See this?" I asked. She nodded. "I've got one
copy, Wendy has one, and Ian has one, so if one should ever get lost,
or if something should happen, you'll know who to ask."
She nodded, all seriousness there, even if she was yawning. Starship
crewman is a hazardous job, and we both knew it. But then she smiled
again. I pulled an extra couple of blankets out of the duffel I'd put
aside, and a few pillows. "Kathy, let's go to sleep. And you be careful,
you're going to be sore for a while."
But the excitement of the past hour was just now catching up to her, like
it was to me, and once I'd put the pillow under her head and the blanket
over her, she was groggy, and she simply said, "I'll be okay, Ken...
just... lemme get some rest." And she was out. I shrugged, and gave a
command to Voll. The droid turned on a blanket field over the fire,
and it went down, and I ordered it to bank the fire slowly over the
night. I grabbed a pillow and gently joined my love in sleep.
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The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are Copyright (c) 1989-2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited
to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.