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Topic: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island  (Read 982 times) previous topic - next topic
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Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #25 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @P.C. Haring

Cross eyed the contraption with likely less enthusiasm for it than Hathev. While he’d never been in this particular type of hammock, he’d experienced a few hammocks in his time and none of them seemed to agree with him. Or rather his abrupt halt in a heap on the ground next to the hammocks he’d tried didn’t seem to agree with him. But Hathev seemed keen to try and Cross wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. Perhaps this one, sturdier than the others he’d encountered by far, would prove less damaging to his pride and his spine.

Cross was already sipping at his drink as he moved to join her, “I’m not certain if it counts but in one of the mystery holonovels I’ve played through there is a scene where the femme fatale and the detective, share a few moments on something not too dissimilar to this before attacked by her spurned mafia boss ex-lover.” He didn’t hide his wariness as he crawled up into the contraption beside her, heaving a sign once he was settled against the pillows and nothing had spilled out, be it food, pillows, or themselves. “Go again,” Cross instructed Hathev with a smile, happy that she seemed to be relaxing into the moment and the game with more ease than the word association failure on the beach.

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #26 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn:  @Ellen Fitz‍ 

It seemed juvenile to play this ‘game’.  To her eye, Hathev saw ‘never have I ever’ as less of a competition and more of an excuse for it’s participants to to consume intoxicating beverages  In her experience adults, and even some juveniles, of their respective species did not need to make excuses for the consumption other than to make themselves feel better and, to a certain extent, Hathev did not believe she needed any excuse to do such a thing other than her personal desire. 

Still, there was very little precedent that she knew of for a Vulcan in her mid-life to begin to lose emotional control outside of a medical diagnosis and while intellectually and physically she might be an adult, but from a standpoint of experiencing, processing and integrating her emotions into her conscious thought process, she was still very much a child.  And so she indulged.

Hathev sifted her position, giving space for Cross to climb on.  The hammock tilted a bit, threatening to drop Hathev to the floor, but Cross’s weight provided a quick counter balance that restored the suspended bed to equilibrium.  As she moved, her bare skin rubbed against the fur lined padding, a sensation that while not completely unknown to  Hathev, was one she did not experience often given the typical Vulcan wardrobe and Starfleet uniforms she often wore.  Even during her marriage to Triss, she did not often allow the exposure of excess skin.  At least now, she could at least begin to understand the frustration her late wife must have experienced.

The sense of grief pushed into her once again, but this time she was prepared and pushed that feeling aside, suppressing it, like a good Vulcan should, if only to allow her to be a bad Vulcan and focus on the emotions that uplifted her spirits.  Oh how she wanted to be a bad Vulcan,

Once Cross had settled himself in the hammock, Hathev took her next turn.

“For the record, Mr. Cross,” she said, “experiences on the holodeck or other virtual reality environments do not count for the purposes of this game.”  She paused before she took her next turn.

“Never have I ever operated the weapon systems of a starship.”

It was a ‘low blow’, she knew but she also knew that if the point of this exercise was, at least in part, to become intoxicated, she could not continue providing prompts to Cross.

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #27 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @P.C. Haring

“Duly noted Ms. Hathev,” Cross lifted his glass in her direction and gave her a salute before sipping at the drink. She’d played dirty with her comment but he could do that as well. “I just remembered that you’re only allowed to go two times in a row before the round automatically switches to another person.” His eyes gleamed with mischief at his obvious fib but that didn’t stop him from continuing, “Never have I ever been to Vulcan.”

And it was true. While his mentors had invited Cross to track down the genetic donors of his Bajoran and Vulcan DNA, Cross had refused. He was neither Bajoran nor Vulcan. He was himself. While there were aspects of both cultures he appreciated, and other aspects he loathed, Cross felt less kinship for the planets and their people than he did for a starship and Starfleet. He was curious what Hathev’s thoughts would be on the matter, how she would respond to the reality that for Cross, his future life would forever been entangled with the Fleet, but now was not the time for such discussions. The sweetness of their drinks, even diluted, was enough to ease away any earlier residual anxiety leftover from the breakdown on the beach. A pleasant thrum was pulsing in his veins, far from inebriation, but a distinct relaxation was born on the sweet edges of the juice.

He appreciated Hathev’s body as she displayed it for him, reclining on the hammock. Not for the first time, Cross was struck mute, only barely paying attention to Hathev’s response, when memories of their coupling returned. How in the hell had he managed to get her attention? And not only that, but what the fuck did he do right to get her in his arms? Cross blinked. It took him a few breaths, and close observation of Hathev’s expression, to realize he’d spoken his thoughts aloud instead of keeping quiet for the game.

Snorting at his own abrupt nature, Cross sighed, saluting Hathev once more with his glass before taking a longer sip. “I am curious, what is it about me that intrigues you so much you’d even want to experience this with me?”

He wasn’t exactly speaking from an inferiority complex. Cross knew he was a capable officer and a damned good friend. His experiences with women led him to believe that more than a few found him attractive, and it was his own nature that kept things from progressing further than verbal flirtation—though most of the details of such things went far over his head and he only realized the reality much later and much too late. But Cross was truly curious about Hathev’s interest. If someone had told him months ago that this woman would be lying beside him like this, Cross would have laughed over another glass of gin. They were from entirely different worlds, literally and figuratively, so it wasn’t so strange for Cross to draw back from the playfulness of the situation to seriously contemplate the how and the why of it all.

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #28 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

Hathev nodded, ingratiating Cross’s toast and acknowledging his change of the rules.  She suspected he was ‘winging it’ and making up these so called rules as he went, but she decided not to challenge him on it.  She took a sip of her drink in response to his statement for their game and sat back, waiting for his next prompt. 

But it did not come in the form of a statement, but rather a question; one about them and the why of their relationship.  Not only did it surprise her, but it surprised her that it surprised her.  How illogically redundant, she concluded.

The answer to his query was, somewhat complex of course.  He had been her patient once  when she’d first come aboard, and in an attempt to render therapeutic aid she’d attempted a mind meld with Cross.  She had been unprepared for the intensity of his feelings and in both cases the emotional back lash had caused intense blow back, first on him, then on her.  She hadn’t been ‘right’ since then  Something about that meld seemed to have broken her ability to fully suppress her emotional self.  That had left her susceptible.

As a rule Mindmelds were inherently intimate.  While not sexual in nature the practice permitted each participant to touch the inner most thoughts of the other, a sharing that could run so deep and personal that no other exchange could even begin to replicate.  In a relatively brief period of time, willing participants could learn and understand years of experience, thoughts, and, yes, emotions.  That sharing combined with her damaged suppression, had left a permanent impression on her, that she could not ignore.

“Despite their unintended consequences,” she began, “the Mind melds you and I shared allowed me to see you in a new way.  My affection for you has long since transcended that of mere respect of a fellow officer and into something more, I’ve come to realize that I care for you very deeply, and that I enjoy,” she paused for emphasis, “truly enjoy, the time I am able to spend with you.  Despite your faults, I find you to be a very caring person.  Attentive to those around you, stalwart in your duties, and someone who makes others, myself included, feel safer and well,” she paused again, “loved when they are in your presence.’

She stopped there, unsure of where all that had come from, but certain that she meant every word she had just uttered.  Still she sensed an awkwardness In the room, one she wanted to go away,

“Never have I ever said that to anyone else.”

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to or not, but she finished her drink all the same.

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #29 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @P.C. Haring

“Well,” Cross took in a deep breath, held it, then spoke on a sigh, “fuck me.”

He remembered the disastrous mind meld and was still floored that this beautiful woman was even interested in giving him a glance, let alone snuggling her flesh next to him on a deserted island. He thought he’d cocked it up worse than anyone could ever cock anything up, making him the cocking up cock winner of the year. Yet, here she spoke of who, despite the cockery, something good had come from that. If being an emotionally compromised Vulcan was considered a good thing. Cross frowned, his thoughts turning darker despite the reassurances she offered as she commended his character.

“Do you think the screw-up in that mind meld may have implanted false feelings or thoughts inside you? Made you predisposed to be attracted to me? Or,” he glanced up at her from his previous glare at the glass clutched between his fingers, “whether that and the rest of the shock of losing loved ones and the attack combined pushed you into intimacy with me that, under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have otherwise pursued?”

Hathev knocked back her drink after alluding to the half-forgotten game, an attempt at light-hearted playfulness in the face of serious undertones. Cross squeezed his eyes shut and followed suit, letting the sweet liquid course over his tongue and swirl in his mouth a moment before swallowing the gulp. He thought over his questions and sighed. Fuck. None of this was coming out right. Fuckety fuck.

“Nevermind, Hathev. That wasn’t a fair set of questions. Under ‘normal’ circumstances, neither of us would be here now, would we? You’d still have your wife and son, and I’d still be…whatever the fuck I was or am. Blue would still be around, but then so would her husband, and yeah,” Cross shook his head firmly as if he could shake the thoughts from his mind, “going down that rabbit hole won’t do any good.”

He carefully shifted on the suspended furniture so he could face Hathev more fully, studying the angles of her face, and curves of her body.

“Though you didn’t ask, I’ll tell you that you’re more than just my first fuck.” Cross frowned, dropped his head, cursed himself for his lack of poetry, and then continued with a steadier voice. “I’ve always liked your forthright nature, attention to detail, and professional demeanor through a crisis. Unflappable and thorough are two character traits I find very noteworthy and worthy of respect. That those traits are packaged like this,” he kept his gaze locked with hers but gestured to her body, “pleased me immensely. And I like the challenge and mystery being with you holds. I don’t quite know what comes next, but instead of being intimidated by that, I am intrigued.”

Taking her empty glass, as well as his own, and setting them aside, Cross returned to his semi-reclined position. He reached out and lightly traced fingers over the back of her hand.

“Did I screw up again?”

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #30 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

For as much as she had not wanted to consider the circumstances of how they came together, Cross’s question presented as a very fair and, yes, logical question.  It was also a question for which she had no answer.  Yes, things between them might be different had the mind melds not gone as poorly as they had and the incident had certainly created a spark of intimacy between the two of them.  But then she recalled what she often advised her own patients.

“Intimacy between two sentient individuals does not tend to last if there is nothing to fuel it,” she responded. “Can I say for sure what would have happened had that mind meld not occurred, no.  But had there been no desire on either of our parts it would have… as the humans say… ‘fizzled out’.  I tend to believe that, if anything, the meld accelerated our inevitable joining by handing us a firm ground upon which to build our relationship as opposed to our having to find and build it ourselves.”

She shifted, rolling towards Cross slightly and pulling him in to her so his head rested on her breast.  His weight on top of her warmed her like a quilt on a cold winter’s night back on Earth and though her bathing suit prevented direct skin to skin contact, she could almost sense his thoughts.

“Ultimately,” she continued softly.  “If you were my patient I would advise that you not endeavor to over think the situation, but rather enjoy what is in front of you and see where it leads.”

She tried to make her tone sound more kind and helpful than patronizing.  If he was worried that he had screwed up, the comment about not dwelling, might be misinterpreted.  She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his back, and allowing her free leg to hook around both of his.

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #31 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @P.C. Haring

It occurred to Cross that while he had longer experience with emotions, Hathev’s vocation had been for controlling them—and in her personal case, suppressing them. This led to another thought, that of bemusement, at the semi-patronizing manner in which she pulled his head to her chest and all but hushed him away from the serious discussion he’d inadvertently broached. Of course, she likely hadn’t meant to come across as patronizing or chastising—she was an “infant” with emotional expression after all—yet, the adult man side of Cross bristled at the implication and wanted to prove his manliness to her. In contrast, the child-man side wanted to sulk against her chest while she stroked her fingers over his skin.

Before he raised his head from her chest in what seemed futile to find resolution beyond mere physicality—a strange development for Cross—a flash memory had him frozen in place. During one of his holonovel excursions with Kai, the pair of them playing private investigators looking for the murderer of a rich crime boss, he remembered with more than a little arousal how one of the female characters—a femme fatal—had offered to give him information only if he submitted to her whims. The only reason the woman hadn’t gone all the way in “having her way” with Cross, tied up and vulnerable to her every move as he was on her bed, was because Kai had discovered evidence that she was the murderer and prevented the woman’s “murder” of Cross by putting a bullet between her eyes just before she could sink a holographic knife into Cross’ chest.

Aside from the concept of restraints being used to assist in getting more satisfactory answers or responses, there was no correlation between that memory and the present situation. Perhaps even support his desire to prove himself to Hathev in a fashion…exert his manliness over her femininity. Or rather, more accurately, his emotional expression over her continued sense of emotional control despite her stated desire to learn how to express her emotions. What better way to bring her to bring of emotional expression than to follow in the footsteps—relatively—of the femme fatal who’d taught him the benefit of restraint usage in the bedroom.

Cross used his superior strength to pull away from Hathev. However, he did so with gentleness and gave her a playful smile once he caught her gaze, “I have an idea for how to move forward with your emotional expression training and that may also help me find more clarity in what’s going on between us. And, I know from personal experience the process can be quite enjoyable, pleasurable, and enlightening. If you trust my judgment on this, follow me, and lose the suit.”

Trying to escape the hanging death trap without looking like an idiot was impossible. But out he crawled and, with one last lingering look over Hathev’s enticing form, Cross went inside the bungalow to find the closest equivalents to four restraints he could secure to the headboard and footboard of the bed along with something that could be used for a blindfold. He’d improvise for the other items, remembering how the woman had used feathers, cloths, and even the sting of a belt on his body to drive him wild. As he gathered the materials and strategically placed them just in case, Cross wondered if Hathev would follow his lead or suggest something more known and tame for her “lessons.”

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #32 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @Ellen Fitz

Hathev arched an eyebrow as Cross offered up his next idea.  She had not expected him to pull away from her, gently though he had.  For her place she would have been content to lay with him in her embrace and see where things went from there.  She watched quietly as he padded out, heading to the bedroom uncertain of what to make of him.  His use of the phrase ‘help me find more clarity’ implied that her answer to him had not been to his satisfaction.  That, she decided, was troubling.

The female vulcan also knew that she was not preared to ‘lose the suit’ even in the figurative sense.  The garment was comfortable on her and she welcomed the way in which it presented her figure.  But she did trust Cross’s judgement and did not wish to indicate anything to the contrary.  So, she climbed out of the hammock, making a mental note to revisit it before the end of their stay.  The counselor followed after cross, her graceful movement keeping her stride smooth and steady.

She found him in the bedroom, rummaging around, pulling sashes off of robes and cataloging them.  Hathev hadn’t even realized that robes of various styles, fabrics and sizes had been provided.  But as he looked through them, pulling the sashes out of their loops, examining them, he seemed to settle on four longer thinner sashes, before pulling a fifth, this one wider than the others.

Hathev was not naive and having counseled many patients over the years, and hearing about their various sexual fettishes, she suspected she knew what was on Cross’s mind.  It was less clear, however, what was on her own mind and for a brief moment she debated which was more important; her sense of uncertainty when it came to this practice, or her desire to trust in her partner.  For her to do this, she would have to give something up; something that mattered most to her as it did to her people as a whole -

Self Control.

Such a fundamental requirement of all Vulcans.  She’d lived her life, as all Vulcans did under a sense of self control.  It sat at the foundation of dicipline, of logic, of everything.  Had her people not learned to control their emotions…

For as illogical as it seemed, Hathev could see and appreciate Cross’s logic.  If she was ever going to learn how to express her emtions properly, she first needed to learn how to let go of some of that control.

She took in a ragged breath, one she had not known she was holding in.  Reaching down, she released the snaps on the crotch and pulled the suit up, off her breasts, and into her hand before uncermoniously dropping it to the floor.  She let herself lean on the door frame, one arm upstretched on the frame itself while the other sat on her hip.

“As it would seem I am about to become your captive, Sir,” she said with what she hoped was a ‘playful’ tone in her voice, “there are two things you need to know.  First, my safeword is ‘starfire’.  Second,” she paused for affeect as she willed her voice to come off a bit more serious though still somewhat playful.  “Under no circumstances are we to mind meld while I am bound.  I am not willing to risk either of us having a violent outburst." 

It was a prudent demand, she decided.  Logical and, given their history, safe.  If something happened and he lashed out, despite his best intentions, she would literally be helpless to defend herself.  Similarly, if she turned violent, the restraints would potentially exacerbate the situation.  Either way she stood to come out of either scenario badly injured or worse.  Without question, an unacceptable outcome.

"Beyond that, you may do with, and to, me whatever you wish for as long as you wish it.”

She honestly was unsure of how Cross would respond to her submissive self making such a statement, but also trusted him to respect her requirements given how little she was asking in exchange for how much she was offering.

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #33 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @P.C. Haring

The proper paraphernalia selected, Cross looked up toward Hathev’s voice, half expecting her to be dressed and ready to call the boat back. But then he felt his stomach drop out of his body at the sight of her glorious nude body leaning against the doorframe in a similar pose Cross had seen Orion temptresses take when luring in their next victim. Her teasing tone of voice furthered his imagination and desire, reminding him of the ludicrous romantic drivel he’d read to her during her recovery and inspiring him for what they could do during their “therapy” session.

Cross nodded at mentioning the safe word, letting the serious reminder cool down the fire in his blood, allowing him to release the tension of his grip on the blindfold in his hands. He also agreed with her request, no demand, that they refrain from melding. In truth, Cross would be perfectly happy never to meld again in his lifetime if he could help it. After their last encounter and the fuckery that’d happened as a result, Cross couldn’t help but think his brokenness and failure as a Vulcan rendered him the worst meld partner for any right-minded Vulcan, especially Hathev. Cross knew enough about Vulcan mating practices to realize it was a go-to for Vulcan to meld during the fever. However, he’d managed to get through his fevers without melding before—granted, that was before the fucktard Savi had “corrected” him and now there was fuck-all to know about how he’d handle a pon far now.

“I agree to your terms.” Cross gestured to the bed with his cybernetic hand. “Lay down, your arms and legs close to the bedposts. I will first restrain your wrists and ankles and allow you to accustom yourself to the restraints before blindfolding you.”

He stepped back as Hathev walked past. Cross desperately wanted to cup her breasts, weigh them in her hands, as he ran his tongue along the rip of her nipple, sucking the tip between his teeth while his fingers dove into the velvety wetness between her legs. But that was not what they needed right now. Cross swallowed the lump in his throat and took great pains to be gentle in securing her ankles first—gaze darting up the length of her legs to the folds of her sex—before moving likewise to restrain her wrists—this time letting his gaze move from her slender fingers down to rise and fall of her chest. Blindfold still in hand, Cross pulled his hands back to his sides to resist the temptation to touch her more than he intended at this juncture of their “therapy” and took a steadying breath.

“Are you ready for the blindfold?” He could hear the heavy lust in his own voice and knew Hathev could easily smell his desire and hear it. The openness of his yearning for her, and knowing she was accepting of it without ridicule, gave Cross a jolt of confidence as he waited for her permission to go to the next stage.
 

Re: Day 09 [15:30 hrs,] Once Upon the Island

Reply #34 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Hathev | Unnamed Island | Private villa | Qo’Nos] Attn: @Ellen Fitz‍ 

Hathev complied with the implied instruction to lay down on the bed and, as she sat down, she slipped the elastic band around her hair and pulled it into a high tail, one that would sit more towards the top of her head and look almost gauche but for the circumstances. As she would be laying down, the higher tail would allow her head to rest comfortably while keeping her hair in some semblance of control and and make it easier for him to blindfold her as he had stated was his intent. Also, should he chose to utilize it in such a way, the tail would also provide ample leverage for Cross as well. Of course, he could remove the elastic easily enough, not that she would be able to do anything about it while under his care.

She pushed the pillow out of the way and gently laid back, spreading her arms and legs out a bit. Her positioning was not to his liking as he had her move her ankles and wrists closer to the respective bed posts before he began work on her left leg.

Between the moment the fabric of the tie downs first touched her left ankle to the moment he had finished fully restraining all four of her limbs, Hathev came to realize three things. First, that he had said he would start with her wrists but had, in fact started with her ankles. She considered that perhaps he had said ‘wrists and ankles’ more casually than she had expected.

Second she realized that even though the restraints were not so tight as to prevent any movement whatsoever, insufficient slack existed for her to do anything but shift her position by a few centimeters. With her limbs stretched, her elbows and knees fully extended, she could not touch her own body, to say nothing about freeing herself and the materials made of the strips he had chosen were strong enough that they would likely not break if she attempted to utilize her strength. In short, she was locked in the spread eagle position into which Cross had bound her, until he deemed otherwise. Which gave rise to the third realization.

Anxiety.

She found the sensation curious at first. They were only minutes into this exercise, and as Hathev realized she was well and truly helpless now, the sense of anxiety rose in her faster than a warp core breach. She was trapped. Helpless. She had no control over anything that Cross did not chose to provide. She was fully dependent on him and despite her logical self telling her she was safe with him, despite the trust she had for him, the sense of anxiety would not abate.

Yet mixed in with the anxiety was another sensation, one that coursed through her from her womanhood up to and through her chest.  She felt the skin around her breasts tighten, her exposed nipples harden.  What was this?  Was this…sexual anticipation?

She fought with herself, tugging gently on the restraints as anxiety and anticipation flowed, mixed, became one.  She did not know if this was normal, if this was expected.  All she knew was that she wanted…she desired…to see this through further.

Hathev took in a ragged breath as she calmed her inner self so that she would not appear anxious in front of Cross and then, after a moment, she finally spoke.

“I am ready.”
 
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