Interlude – Drink Me, Eat Me
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
ON:
Yolanthe examined her reflection in the boutique’s mirror. The black silk dress, intended to replace the one that had been wrecked her opening night, was pretty much perfect. It was mostly modest: not acres of bare flesh, but cut in such a way that the imagination would be fired in anyone giving it a second glance. The slashes in the folds of the skirt hid as much as they revealed - just enough to tantalise. The neckline just low enough to be interesting, and offer hope where there was none. Its purpose was to cause distraction, and it was good at it.
She contemplated ordering a batch for her croupiers. Combining the dress with the fact that they were hired for their looks as much as their skill, was a move that could get her accused of unfair business practise by the PMA, and that suited her just fine. She hadn’t forgiven them for the riot in her bar; especially when one of them had stabbed her. The likely increase in table takings would more than pay for it.
“I’ll take it. And one in white.” She told the store owner.
“Very good.” The bolian nodded, and went to make up the order.
“Just wrap the white one.” Yolanthe checked her watch. The Box would open soon. There didn’t seem much point in changing back. “I’ll wear this one now.”
Collecting her purchases, she headed back out to the promenade, where she literally walked straight into the Cardassian Ambassador.
Tharek knew who it was instantly, as there was very few people his height. He immediately eyed the dress. "Wow. That's a very nice dress on you."
She beamed at him, "That's the idea. Something suitably glamorous for the owner of a Box of Delights." She twisted slightly to each side so he could see the full effect.
"And what a box of delights you are." Tharek said, smiling with a flirtatious hint. "Care for a drink? It's been an awfully long day."
Her skin coloured from violet blue to violet pink. "It'll have to be a quick one." She knew it was cutting it close to opening, but he was a good customer. "But not my place. I walk in there, and everyone will give me stuff to do."
"Very well. There's a quiet Terran bar around the corner." He said, beckoning down the promenade with a smooth gesture. "Shall we?" Tharek asked in a warm tone.
She took his arm and let him lead the way to the small bistro. "You seem in better spirits than you were." she observed. "Diplomacy going well?"
"Ish." He replied with a slight laugh. "I'd rather not talk about business, but the topic of pleasure? That's a subject I could get into."
"Well, pleasure is my business, so I can help you there."
"I don't doubt it for a second." Tharek said with a sinister smile as he entered the bar. He immediately waved over the waiter. "What would you like? My treat." Tharek said with a wink.
"I feel positively spoilt." She surveyed the menu "The Barolo, " she decided, indicating the fine red wine. "Probably the best wine off the whole damn planet."
Tharek turned to the waiter. "Two, very, very large glasses of Barolo."
The waiter returned in short order with a two large glasses, and a bottle of the wine. After presenting the bottle to the Ambassador, he poured with a flourish and withdrew. Yolanthe glanced at her watch. If she kept it on, she'd only keep watching it, and that wouldn't be polite. "Excuse me." She slipped it off her wrist and reached down to put it safely in the bag with her other clothes.
"Of course." Tharek said. Tharek now saw his opportunity. He stealthily drew the small, blue vial from within his pocket, and placed a small amount into Yolanthe's drink. Just enough so the effect will work, but just enough not to be detected by the eye. "Cheers." He said as Yolanthe raised.
She straightened up and picked up her own glass. "To pleasure," she responded, touching her glass to his. She took a sip, found it excellent, and took another mouthful, savouring the fruity, full bodied wine.
Tharek smiled eerily and took some of his drink too. "Not bad. Not bad at all." He said, looking on at Yolanthe. The blue vial contained Tharek's own special concoction. It contained Orion pheromones, Regalian liquid crystal and Terran cocoa. Some of the best 'mood-starters' in the quadrant.
Settling more comfortably in her seat, Yolanthe put chin in her hand, and leaned forward slightly. "So, pleasure. You beat Borg to a pulp to relieve a bad day. What do you do to reward yourself for a good one?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." He said, leaning onto the table, and closer to Yolanthe. "I look for the finer things in life to occupy my time."
That she decided was true, examining him closely. He'd paid her a small fortune for some of the best kanar she'd ever tasted. And he turned out nicely too. She didn't know how he measured up as a member of his own species, but he didn't hurt her eyes. Maybe it was the scar under his eye, (a stray thought crossed her mind - when did that happen, but she paid it no heed) giving him a somewhat swashbuckling air.
Maybe it was the clothes. Perhaps it was just the need for an ambassador to always look the part but he wore them well. They were obviously expensive, and well tailored, and if they were replicated and not made from real materials then she'd be really surprised. They looked very good.
And they'd look even better in a puddle around his ankles.
Where had that come from? To cover her own surprise she reached for her wine glass and drank. Her skin had gone the colour of tropical coral. "What sort of finer things?" She asked, her voice a little unsteady. "Opera? Antiques? Art?"
Tharek chuckled in his throat. "I'm partial to art, and blades. I keep a collection of prized edged weapons in my office under lock and key. Also, a good song doesn't go unappreciated. What about you, surely there's a few finer things in your life?"
Men! her hormones screamed in response. Very fine men. And you haven't had one in almost three years. And here's one, right here. The Bokkai clenched her teeth to be sure she didn't say that out loud. "Erm, not exactly. I've spent the last few years drifting. Freighters mostly. You don't really get bogged down with stuff when you change your berth every four months."
She found she couldn't look him in the eye. And looking at other parts of him made her hormones even louder. In the end, she fixed on a point on his shoulder ridge instead, and forced herself to take a steadying breath.
Tharek noticed her breathing. "You seem a little... Flustered, my dear. What ever is the matter?" He asked, when he knew fully what the matter was. Her hormones were screaming, her faintest innate desires becoming active.
"I think the wine's gone straight to my head." Or possibly your groin added the last shred of her common sense. She was stroking the stem of the wine glass in an unsubtle way.
And she had a real problem. She'd never had to seduce a man in her life. Amongst her own kind mating was never left to random chance, everything organised and arranged, and your own desires be damned. The men just arrived at her bedroom, whether they wanted to be there or not. Actually persuading one to sleep with her was completely new territory, and one she was aching to explore.
She swallowed the last of the wine. She had to get him out of here at least, before she embarrassed both of them in public. And he'd given her a great way to do that. "Maybe a bit of a walk. I'd love to see your blade collection." Her bar forgotten, she reached out and ran a finger along his hand.
Tharek smiled, obviously amused. "Then let us depart, and head to my humble abode."
She couldn't get out of the bistro fast enough, but forced herself to match his pace as they walked along the promenade to the embassy. As they walked she moved closer, every few moments she almost reached out to him, wanting to touch him. Her fingers flexed at her sides as she resisted the urge to put her hands on him.
Tharek knew exactly what was going on in her body. The war of willpower against raw chemicals. So far, it looked like the Bokkai was losing to Tharek's potent potion. They arrived at the embassy within minutes, having passed Lemat and her disgusted looks, they entered into his office.
"So this collection of yours?" It was idle words to fill the silence. She was far more interested in watching him walk across the room, her imagination filling out the gaps suggested by the movement of the cloth.
Tharek laughed yet again. "Here." He said, gesturing to the case full to the brim with swords, daggers and various other violent weapons.
Just for a moment the collection of weaponry distracted her, and she crossed the floor to stand next to him with nothing more on her mind than admiration. She recognised less than half a dozen - the Ushaan-tor, the mek'leth, a matched pair of terran pattern-welded short swords, but she could see that they were all beautifully crafted, perfectly made. "Wow." The sigh of admiration made her chest heave. "Did you collect these, or are they trophies?"
"I won a good few of them, pried a few from some fingers. Either way, they are mine because I admire them, and I take what I admire." He said, gazing into the cupboard, but at Yolanthe's reflection in the polished glass.
She turned to him, looked at him for a moment, her skin deepening to a blood red. "Good philosophy," she murmured. Then she kissed him.
It was firm, and hot, and tasted of wine. An arm slid around his waist, and she curled her other hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him close as she pressed her body against his. He could feel the tension in her, the last vestige of self-control that was holding back the full force of the drug induced lust.
Tharek returned the passionate kiss with his own, taking control of the movement and moment. He placed his hands by her thighs and dragged her in until they couldn't get any closer.
It was the permission she was looking for. All restraint evaporated, replaced by a desperate hunger to touch him, to feel his naked body against hers. She massaged her hips into his, pulling his shirt from his waist band until she could slide her hands underneath.
Tharek continued to kiss her, but gently took her with him as he made his way to the couch. He threw himself onto it, and took Yolanthe with him. He lay on the couch with Yolanthe directly on top of him. He could feel how aroused she was, and how she was aching to satisfy the demanding chemicals within her body.
As they moved, she'd been trying to find buttons, a zip, anything that would get his shirt open. With him beneath her now, she gave up, bunched the fabric in her fingers and pulled. It tore open from bottom to top and she shoved it from his torso.
Seeing his naked chest, taut and well-defined, she practically gasped with delight, and leaned down to run a hungry tongue along along his neck ridges. Under his collar bones was another ridged tear shape, similar to the one on his forehead, in the center of his chest. Her fingers softly stroked around the edge of it, enjoying the contrast between the smooth skin in its center and the harder scales around the edge.
“I wonder what else of yours has ridges?” she purred into his ear, and her hands moved to his waist.
"Well, do feel free to explore and find out." He said back into her ear.
She didn’t have to be asked twice, and half a heartbeat later she had her hands under him, lifting his hips and stripping away every stitch, shifting position until the unwanted clothes hit the floor. Finally she had him as she wanted, and ran her palms up his thighs with obvious relish. She gazed down on him, and ran her tongue around her lips.
Tharek looked on into her eyes, fuelled by a mixture of raw desire and burning passion. "Do help yourself, my dear." He said playfully.
Her dress joined the pile of clothes on the floor, and after a couple of delicious wriggles against his hips, her underwear went flying and she was pressing her naked body into his, her breathing shallow, her skin almost searingly hot. She kissed at his shoulders whilst her hands explored every ridge and cleft of him, rubbing and stroking until she couldn't wait any longer and she was sure he couldn't either, and she reached between them to bring their bodies together.
Tharek wrapped his arms around Yolanthe, and brought her in even closer, intertwining them. He made hard thrusts into Yolanthe, enjoying every second of this drug-fueled passion.
She let out a sigh of unrestrained relief and desire as he began to move. She needed this more than she had thought possible, and was determined to wring every last sensation from him. She met his movements eagerly, grinding against him with wanton abandon until all capacity for rational thought dissolved in a red haze of barely sated lust.
Tharek was matching her move for move. He thrusted deeper and deeper. Harder and harder. Faster and faster, until he thought they would both collapse from sheer pleasure. He raised himself up and swapped places with Yolanthe, now he was fully in control.
She responded by locking her ankles across his back, holding him to her. She was so close now, she wasn't going to let him get away even an inch. Her breathing was turning to ragged gasps. All she wanted was release, and only he could give it to her.
Tharek's body dripped with sweat, his mouth still lingered with the taste of Yolanthe's lips. Every time he thrusted, he felt like he would faint. He could feel himself and her coming to a climax, and he did so, with one last push.
As he let go, she came, her back arching as it hit her. She clung to him, gasping, her body trembling, before the pleasure subsided, and she relaxed back against the cushions with Tharek collapsed on top of her.
Tharek nudged himself to the side of Yolanthe, so not to crush her under his weight. He was panting, and the only words he seemed to be able to pronounce were inaudible anyway. He looked over to Yolanthe, and at the expression of delight on her face.
She saw him looking and smiled to herself like the cat that got the cream. No, he was most definitely not like the men back home. "I..." she trailed off. "Stars above..." she tried again. The words she wanted probably didn't exist.
Finally, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked him up and down, and the potent aphrodisiac, magnified by years of self-denial and not a little natural attraction, went to work again. Her smile became wicked. "So, how long before you can go again?"
Tharek looked down at himself. Before turning to look Yolanthe in the eye. All he did was smile, before he went in for another passionate, burning kiss.
OFF
Yolanthe Ibalin
Under the influence, and under the ambassador
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Ambassador, improving race relations
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Post Details
| Title | Drink Me, Eat Me | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal | |
| Posted | Sun Jun 13, 2010 @ 6:00pm | |
| Location | Cardassian Embassy | |
| Timeline | SD 22 |
Yolanthe examined her reflection in the boutique’s mirror. The black silk dress, intended to replace the one that had been wrecked her opening night, was pretty much perfect. It was mostly modest: not acres of bare flesh, but cut in such a way that the imagination would be fired in anyone giving it a second glance. The slashes in the folds of the skirt hid as much as they revealed - just enough to tantalise. The neckline just low enough to be interesting, and offer hope where there was none. Its purpose was to cause distraction, and it was good at it.
She contemplated ordering a batch for her croupiers. Combining the dress with the fact that they were hired for their looks as much as their skill, was a move that could get her accused of unfair business practise by the PMA, and that suited her just fine. She hadn’t forgiven them for the riot in her bar; especially when one of them had stabbed her. The likely increase in table takings would more than pay for it.
“I’ll take it. And one in white.” She told the store owner.
“Very good.” The bolian nodded, and went to make up the order.
“Just wrap the white one.” Yolanthe checked her watch. The Box would open soon. There didn’t seem much point in changing back. “I’ll wear this one now.”
Collecting her purchases, she headed back out to the promenade, where she literally walked straight into the Cardassian Ambassador.
Tharek knew who it was instantly, as there was very few people his height. He immediately eyed the dress. "Wow. That's a very nice dress on you."
She beamed at him, "That's the idea. Something suitably glamorous for the owner of a Box of Delights." She twisted slightly to each side so he could see the full effect.
"And what a box of delights you are." Tharek said, smiling with a flirtatious hint. "Care for a drink? It's been an awfully long day."
Her skin coloured from violet blue to violet pink. "It'll have to be a quick one." She knew it was cutting it close to opening, but he was a good customer. "But not my place. I walk in there, and everyone will give me stuff to do."
"Very well. There's a quiet Terran bar around the corner." He said, beckoning down the promenade with a smooth gesture. "Shall we?" Tharek asked in a warm tone.
She took his arm and let him lead the way to the small bistro. "You seem in better spirits than you were." she observed. "Diplomacy going well?"
"Ish." He replied with a slight laugh. "I'd rather not talk about business, but the topic of pleasure? That's a subject I could get into."
"Well, pleasure is my business, so I can help you there."
"I don't doubt it for a second." Tharek said with a sinister smile as he entered the bar. He immediately waved over the waiter. "What would you like? My treat." Tharek said with a wink.
"I feel positively spoilt." She surveyed the menu "The Barolo, " she decided, indicating the fine red wine. "Probably the best wine off the whole damn planet."
Tharek turned to the waiter. "Two, very, very large glasses of Barolo."
The waiter returned in short order with a two large glasses, and a bottle of the wine. After presenting the bottle to the Ambassador, he poured with a flourish and withdrew. Yolanthe glanced at her watch. If she kept it on, she'd only keep watching it, and that wouldn't be polite. "Excuse me." She slipped it off her wrist and reached down to put it safely in the bag with her other clothes.
"Of course." Tharek said. Tharek now saw his opportunity. He stealthily drew the small, blue vial from within his pocket, and placed a small amount into Yolanthe's drink. Just enough so the effect will work, but just enough not to be detected by the eye. "Cheers." He said as Yolanthe raised.
She straightened up and picked up her own glass. "To pleasure," she responded, touching her glass to his. She took a sip, found it excellent, and took another mouthful, savouring the fruity, full bodied wine.
Tharek smiled eerily and took some of his drink too. "Not bad. Not bad at all." He said, looking on at Yolanthe. The blue vial contained Tharek's own special concoction. It contained Orion pheromones, Regalian liquid crystal and Terran cocoa. Some of the best 'mood-starters' in the quadrant.
Settling more comfortably in her seat, Yolanthe put chin in her hand, and leaned forward slightly. "So, pleasure. You beat Borg to a pulp to relieve a bad day. What do you do to reward yourself for a good one?"
"Wouldn't you like to know." He said, leaning onto the table, and closer to Yolanthe. "I look for the finer things in life to occupy my time."
That she decided was true, examining him closely. He'd paid her a small fortune for some of the best kanar she'd ever tasted. And he turned out nicely too. She didn't know how he measured up as a member of his own species, but he didn't hurt her eyes. Maybe it was the scar under his eye, (a stray thought crossed her mind - when did that happen, but she paid it no heed) giving him a somewhat swashbuckling air.
Maybe it was the clothes. Perhaps it was just the need for an ambassador to always look the part but he wore them well. They were obviously expensive, and well tailored, and if they were replicated and not made from real materials then she'd be really surprised. They looked very good.
And they'd look even better in a puddle around his ankles.
Where had that come from? To cover her own surprise she reached for her wine glass and drank. Her skin had gone the colour of tropical coral. "What sort of finer things?" She asked, her voice a little unsteady. "Opera? Antiques? Art?"
Tharek chuckled in his throat. "I'm partial to art, and blades. I keep a collection of prized edged weapons in my office under lock and key. Also, a good song doesn't go unappreciated. What about you, surely there's a few finer things in your life?"
Men! her hormones screamed in response. Very fine men. And you haven't had one in almost three years. And here's one, right here. The Bokkai clenched her teeth to be sure she didn't say that out loud. "Erm, not exactly. I've spent the last few years drifting. Freighters mostly. You don't really get bogged down with stuff when you change your berth every four months."
She found she couldn't look him in the eye. And looking at other parts of him made her hormones even louder. In the end, she fixed on a point on his shoulder ridge instead, and forced herself to take a steadying breath.
Tharek noticed her breathing. "You seem a little... Flustered, my dear. What ever is the matter?" He asked, when he knew fully what the matter was. Her hormones were screaming, her faintest innate desires becoming active.
"I think the wine's gone straight to my head." Or possibly your groin added the last shred of her common sense. She was stroking the stem of the wine glass in an unsubtle way.
And she had a real problem. She'd never had to seduce a man in her life. Amongst her own kind mating was never left to random chance, everything organised and arranged, and your own desires be damned. The men just arrived at her bedroom, whether they wanted to be there or not. Actually persuading one to sleep with her was completely new territory, and one she was aching to explore.
She swallowed the last of the wine. She had to get him out of here at least, before she embarrassed both of them in public. And he'd given her a great way to do that. "Maybe a bit of a walk. I'd love to see your blade collection." Her bar forgotten, she reached out and ran a finger along his hand.
Tharek smiled, obviously amused. "Then let us depart, and head to my humble abode."
She couldn't get out of the bistro fast enough, but forced herself to match his pace as they walked along the promenade to the embassy. As they walked she moved closer, every few moments she almost reached out to him, wanting to touch him. Her fingers flexed at her sides as she resisted the urge to put her hands on him.
Tharek knew exactly what was going on in her body. The war of willpower against raw chemicals. So far, it looked like the Bokkai was losing to Tharek's potent potion. They arrived at the embassy within minutes, having passed Lemat and her disgusted looks, they entered into his office.
"So this collection of yours?" It was idle words to fill the silence. She was far more interested in watching him walk across the room, her imagination filling out the gaps suggested by the movement of the cloth.
Tharek laughed yet again. "Here." He said, gesturing to the case full to the brim with swords, daggers and various other violent weapons.
Just for a moment the collection of weaponry distracted her, and she crossed the floor to stand next to him with nothing more on her mind than admiration. She recognised less than half a dozen - the Ushaan-tor, the mek'leth, a matched pair of terran pattern-welded short swords, but she could see that they were all beautifully crafted, perfectly made. "Wow." The sigh of admiration made her chest heave. "Did you collect these, or are they trophies?"
"I won a good few of them, pried a few from some fingers. Either way, they are mine because I admire them, and I take what I admire." He said, gazing into the cupboard, but at Yolanthe's reflection in the polished glass.
She turned to him, looked at him for a moment, her skin deepening to a blood red. "Good philosophy," she murmured. Then she kissed him.
It was firm, and hot, and tasted of wine. An arm slid around his waist, and she curled her other hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him close as she pressed her body against his. He could feel the tension in her, the last vestige of self-control that was holding back the full force of the drug induced lust.
Tharek returned the passionate kiss with his own, taking control of the movement and moment. He placed his hands by her thighs and dragged her in until they couldn't get any closer.
It was the permission she was looking for. All restraint evaporated, replaced by a desperate hunger to touch him, to feel his naked body against hers. She massaged her hips into his, pulling his shirt from his waist band until she could slide her hands underneath.
Tharek continued to kiss her, but gently took her with him as he made his way to the couch. He threw himself onto it, and took Yolanthe with him. He lay on the couch with Yolanthe directly on top of him. He could feel how aroused she was, and how she was aching to satisfy the demanding chemicals within her body.
As they moved, she'd been trying to find buttons, a zip, anything that would get his shirt open. With him beneath her now, she gave up, bunched the fabric in her fingers and pulled. It tore open from bottom to top and she shoved it from his torso.
Seeing his naked chest, taut and well-defined, she practically gasped with delight, and leaned down to run a hungry tongue along along his neck ridges. Under his collar bones was another ridged tear shape, similar to the one on his forehead, in the center of his chest. Her fingers softly stroked around the edge of it, enjoying the contrast between the smooth skin in its center and the harder scales around the edge.
“I wonder what else of yours has ridges?” she purred into his ear, and her hands moved to his waist.
"Well, do feel free to explore and find out." He said back into her ear.
She didn’t have to be asked twice, and half a heartbeat later she had her hands under him, lifting his hips and stripping away every stitch, shifting position until the unwanted clothes hit the floor. Finally she had him as she wanted, and ran her palms up his thighs with obvious relish. She gazed down on him, and ran her tongue around her lips.
Tharek looked on into her eyes, fuelled by a mixture of raw desire and burning passion. "Do help yourself, my dear." He said playfully.
Her dress joined the pile of clothes on the floor, and after a couple of delicious wriggles against his hips, her underwear went flying and she was pressing her naked body into his, her breathing shallow, her skin almost searingly hot. She kissed at his shoulders whilst her hands explored every ridge and cleft of him, rubbing and stroking until she couldn't wait any longer and she was sure he couldn't either, and she reached between them to bring their bodies together.
Tharek wrapped his arms around Yolanthe, and brought her in even closer, intertwining them. He made hard thrusts into Yolanthe, enjoying every second of this drug-fueled passion.
She let out a sigh of unrestrained relief and desire as he began to move. She needed this more than she had thought possible, and was determined to wring every last sensation from him. She met his movements eagerly, grinding against him with wanton abandon until all capacity for rational thought dissolved in a red haze of barely sated lust.
Tharek was matching her move for move. He thrusted deeper and deeper. Harder and harder. Faster and faster, until he thought they would both collapse from sheer pleasure. He raised himself up and swapped places with Yolanthe, now he was fully in control.
She responded by locking her ankles across his back, holding him to her. She was so close now, she wasn't going to let him get away even an inch. Her breathing was turning to ragged gasps. All she wanted was release, and only he could give it to her.
Tharek's body dripped with sweat, his mouth still lingered with the taste of Yolanthe's lips. Every time he thrusted, he felt like he would faint. He could feel himself and her coming to a climax, and he did so, with one last push.
As he let go, she came, her back arching as it hit her. She clung to him, gasping, her body trembling, before the pleasure subsided, and she relaxed back against the cushions with Tharek collapsed on top of her.
Tharek nudged himself to the side of Yolanthe, so not to crush her under his weight. He was panting, and the only words he seemed to be able to pronounce were inaudible anyway. He looked over to Yolanthe, and at the expression of delight on her face.
She saw him looking and smiled to herself like the cat that got the cream. No, he was most definitely not like the men back home. "I..." she trailed off. "Stars above..." she tried again. The words she wanted probably didn't exist.
Finally, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked him up and down, and the potent aphrodisiac, magnified by years of self-denial and not a little natural attraction, went to work again. Her smile became wicked. "So, how long before you can go again?"
Tharek looked down at himself. Before turning to look Yolanthe in the eye. All he did was smile, before he went in for another passionate, burning kiss.
OFF
Yolanthe Ibalin
Under the influence, and under the ambassador
Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal
Cardassian Ambassador, improving race relations