<VPA Alpha Stream> Masks

  • From: Rhiannon <bansheec@xxxxxxx>
  • To: "alphastream@xxxxxxxxxxxxx" <alphastream@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Mon, 25 May 2009 21:01:45 -0400

³Masks²
Empet and Martok

Her Uncle was coming and Empet knew she was more hyper than normal.  The
challenges had escalated against her since the announcement of the Gerenal's
visit, every warrior wanting to prove himself in the General's eyes and to
discredit her position. It had become so bad, in fact, that the HoD of the
ship had had several very loud and aggresive 'words' with the most prolific
aggressors.  It wasn't a mar on her honour because he feared for her safety,
it was simply practical.  It would be beyond embarrassing if the General
arrived to a ship in total uproar, as if the HoD had no control over his men
at all.

Empet wiped blood from her lip with the back of her glove.  She spat
violently on the warrior at her feet and raised eyes full of pure ire to the
others in the Mess Hall.  "Do not start on me again!" she growled before
spinning around and marching away.  She couldn't even find time to be with
Martok because of the idiots challenging her.  All eyes were on her so she
couldn't even acknowledge her lover when she past him in the corridor.

"Sogh lagh Empet," a bark came from behind her and she stopped immediately
to turn to the ship's first officer.  "The General arrives in three hours
and he is having a feast.  You will be sitting at the High Table with us, at
his request."  The tone of voice he used clearly stated that it was only at
the General's request and would not be happening if he had anything to do
with it.  "Clean yourself up and be ready to greet him."

"Yes, ra'wl'," she said sharply.  When he left, she sagged.  A feast.  The
last she'd attended was one in her honour when she'd become a warrior.
ShiVang liked to show off his niece, especially as his own son had chosen
politics above warfare and was now serving on the High Council.  He had no
other children so he doted on the daughter of his friend.

Spinning back around, she almost bolted for her room, but not fast enough to
draw any more attention to her than she normally did.  First thing she
needed to do was check the duty roster for Martok's next shift.  Only some
of the labourers would be serving the General and she wanted to make sure he
wasn't one of them.  She knew it was sentimentality but the thought of him
serving her anything made her feel sick.  She could remember, when she was
young before her father died, that in the privacy of their own home,
Chancellor Azetbur became simply wife and mother.  She would serve Empet's
father and it was always very clear the love between her parents.  That was
what Empet wanted with Martok.  To be, even if only in private, his woman.

Not that she had told him this.  She knew he considered her a child and she
accepted it with the respect due someone who had seen more of battle than
she had.  And yet, wrapped up in that small hope was the worry she felt at
being served by a man she thought she loved.  Of course she had grown up
being served by many different people but Martok?  That truly did make her
nauseus.

As she reached her room, she hit her computer terminal and called up the
roster.  With a sinking heart, she not only read his shift was about to
begin but that he had been ordered to be the server at the High table.
"Kahless," she sighed heavily.  She needed to find him and talk to him.  She
trusted his ability to be discrete but she wanted to make sure he wasn't
going to be insulted when she looked straight through him as she'd been
taught to do with servants.  "Oh Kahless, why are you doing this?"

With that in mind, she grabbed her clean uniform and made her way to the
showers.  On the way, she tapped her communicator.  "Empet to Martok, you
are needed in the officers' shower block."  It was said sharply and with
deep irritation.  "They have broken down and it would be most unfortunate
for you if I had to greet the General stinking of sweat and blood."
 
Martok gave a grunt of annoyance for the benefit of the men around him.
Pulling his feet off the break table he¹d had them on, he made a show of
looking pissed off, though he¹d honestly been hoping she¹d call soon. He
played the part perfectly as he slammed his communicator. ³On my way,  Sogh
lagh.² Once he was alone in the corridor a smirk curled at his lips as he
wondered why she had picked the showers of all places.
 
Her dirty uniform was stripped off and dumped in a pile on the floor where
she'd reclaim it after she'd showered and clean it once this whole affair
was over.  Her long hair was in a braid down her back so she tugged at the
tie and shook her head, her curling hair bouncing around her shoulders.  She
leaned against the wall inside the block, a mock-glare on her face as she
waited for Martok.
 
His smirk turned to a smile when finally found the block she was in. She was
the perfect female Klingon form with the classic look of soft cranial ridges
which he simply adored. ³You hissed my little teeka cat?²
 
"The block does not appear to be functioning," she repeated, her eyes
dancing now.  "Try it and see."  She prowled up to him and draped her arms
around his neck.  "You may need to take off your clothes first, they'll get
wet."  And then she kissed him, long and hard and just as smoky as she'd
been dreaming of since he'd left her cabin a few days ago.
 
He didn¹t need to be asked twice. As he kissed her Martok began to remove
his uniform, his hands pausing from time to time so he could brush at her
exposed flesh. Once he was undressed, his uniform discarded without a second
thought, he began to push her backwards until he had her pressed against the
wall. He never took his lips from her as he turned on the water.
 
The hot water was purging her body even as it reacted to everything he did.
"My lord," she groaned as she lifted herself up to wrap her legs around his
waist. She scratched her nails down his strong arms and snarled
 
Martok paused for a moment as he looked into her deep brown eyes. ³No, just
your man.²
 
 Empet almost flinched when she realised what she'd said.  What was that
Human phrase she'd heard?  'Oops'?  She refused to appear weak by being
uncertain or seem childish to him so she nodded and eased herself down from
him.  "True.  My man."
 
Notching the change Martok reached out and caressed her face. He¹d started
thinking of her as his woman, had he been mistaken that she thought of him
as her man? ³What is it, Empet?²
 
 "The General's coming," she said simply.  He's coming here to inspect the
ship and to show off his only niece.  I am his niece, Martok.  I checked the
duty roster..."  And then she did pale.  She hadn't been fooling herself,
the thought of him serving her really did make her sick.
 
³I am working the High Table during the General¹s feast.² Martok nodded in
understanding. ³It will be an honor to serve the General and the daughter of
late Chancellor.² He stroked her cheek again before kissing the center of
her ridges. 
 
"You don't understand," she growled in frustration.  "I don't want you to
serve me!  That is not how it works.  It is the other way around.  I serve
you.  I want to serve you! This..."  She leaned back against the wall, the
coolness of the bulkhead easing her nausea.  "This makes me sick," she
admitted with a deep shudder.
 
Lifting her head with the tip of his finger he used the other hand to wipe
wet stands of hair from her face. Then his eyes locked onto hers with a
firmness that didn¹t seem to match his station in life, and yet with an
emotional warmth that was all for her. ³When we are alone like this we are
simply Empet and Martok,² He began. ³But when we are out there, we have our
roles to play. You are an officer, a warrior, a noble. You¹re better then
everyone who¹ll be in that room, equal in status to only the General. You
will be the lady, and I will serve you honorably, and then when I get you
alone once more I will make you purr like a pleased and happy little teeka
cat.²
 
She smirked at his nickname for her.  She'd had a teeka cat when she'd been
a girl.  It had been a present from her uncle and she'd called it TicToc
because it was a nice sounding Human word.  "And I will serve you all of the
delicacies that you have been forced to serve your woman."
 
³Do not let this bother you, Empet.² Martok told her between kisses. ³We are
as we are, now shake it off and shut up. I plan on making you do more then
purr before we leave for the feast.²
 
Her growl echoed around the showers as she grabbed a handful of his
wonderful, curly hair and yanked as hard as she could.  "You dare to tell me
to shut up," she hissed though her eyes were dancing with absolute
adoration.  "For that, you have to kiss me."
 
He gave her a snarled smile that was only for her. ³I had something else in
mind, woman.² He growled before kissing a line down her neck to her breasts.
 
She let her eyes roll back in her head as she allowed him to do whatever he
wanted.  "What... whatever it is, don't stop."
 
³Didn¹t plan on stopping.² He chuckled deeply as he switched to the other
beast. Picking her up he pressed her against the wall and then grunted when
her legs returned to his waist. She felt so good in his arms, he never
wanted to let her go. Working his way back up her neck he pulled her head to
the side by the hair and then began to bite where he knew her uniform would
cover.
 
Her fingers were laced through his hair as she leaned into the hand that
held her head.  Her lips touched his own neck and she began to nibble just
lightly as her tongue rubbed against his pulse point.
 
Martok moaned as he pushed into her. With each encounter he¹d allowed
himself to become more rough. There was none of that poetry and furniture
throwing stuff with them, it was all passion and emotion and it was done on
equal ground.
 
She lived for the feel of him in her now.  No longer the kill, no longer the
hunt or honour or loyalty. Everything she wanted was wrapped up in the
moment he entered her.  She bit down on his neck hard though not enough to
draw blood.  He tasted and smelled too good.
 
His moan became a soft roar at the added sensation of her bites. ³Kahless
woman you drive me mad.²
 
Madness, she thought, was what this was.  Madness and adrenaline all adding
to her arousal. Scraping her teeth across his throat, she bit down again on
the other side.  "More," she purred as she started to shake.
 
He increased his force and pace as he forced her head back so he could kiss
her just as brutally.
 
Her peak totally blinded her and she knew the roar she let out was
deafening.  Her arms clamped around him and she clung onto him as if he was
all that kept her from that madness.
 
Once he¹d reached his own climax and their combine trembling had slowed,
Martok lowered them to the water warmed floor of the shower block. He held
her as if she were the most precious of jewels, and to him she was. ³I could
learn to enjoy showers like these, woman.²
 
"Mm-hmm," she purred, her head resting against his chest.  "I doubt we will
get another chance.  It is pure luck that this is during the middle of
shifts."  This was the bit she really loved.  She could have snuggled down
and cuddled into him, stroking his chest and hair, but the moment her
thoughts returned, so did her worries and irritations.  "Martok, I am your
woman.  Remember that at all times during the feast."
 
³And what kind of pahtk would I be to forget something like that?² He asked
as the water washed over them.
 
"I will not see you," she told him.  "I won't even acknowledge you as a
servant. This is how it works.  You will be as inanimate to me as the chair
on which I sit.  I will thank you in so many imaginative ways after, when we
are alone.  But during the feast or whenever the General is there, you will
be less than nothing to me."
 
He kissed her to reassure her. ³Only in actions, Empet. Actions don¹t always
speak louder then words, sometimes they¹re just that, an act.²
 
"A mask," she corrected.  "Here I am as I am and it is all for you.  Out
there, I must be something else, something that is not entirely a lie but
feels it sometimes."
 
³I like seeing all of your different masks.² He replied as ran his hands
over her body. ³You¹re a complex, strong, and passionate woman, Empet.²

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