Archive-name: JourEntr/j412-169.txt
Archive-author: Elf Matheiu Sternberg
Archive-title: Kathy On The Beach, Part I


Journal Entry 169 / 0412

     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.


     "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 transporter 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."


     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 to
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 aginst 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 approriate 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
disbeleiving.  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 venus.  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 hole 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 seperated 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, "Katheryne 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
     they 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.
--
"Kathy On The Beach"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., And Related Tales
are (c) 1989, 1990 Elf Matheiu Sternberg.  May be freely distributed by
cybernetic media; hardcopies are limited to single printings for
personal use.