Flung Out of Space (and Time)

"Delphine!" Jenna calls out and rushes to me.

I force myself up and my whole body screams in pain. When she helps me up I wince in pain, my whole side hurts and will be sore for days after the beating I took today. With my arm wrapped around my side she sits me down on the bed and then kneels down in front of me. She takes my face into her hands and stares deeply into my eyes. I give her a weak smile and she leans in and kisses me deeply. When we break I call out to Nero.

"Nero, things went south with Fenster."

"I can see." He flatly responds.

"He's dead, you'll need to bring down the drop ship tonight to collect his body."

"Understood Captain Ortega."

I fall back into bed and curl up into a ball. Jenna climbs in with me and wraps herself around me. After letting out a loud groan I soon slip into a heavy sleep that's only interrupted when Jenna gets up to cover his body with the blanket pile, she must have grown tired of looking at it. We both fall back asleep until the sound of the drop ship wakes us up. When I go to stand up my entire body protests, my back and sides hurt while my throat is sore and inflamed. Nero takes one look at me and then pulls something from his bag. The shot he gives me causes almost immediate recovery in my body. After he and Jenna load Fenster's body onto the drop ship, he'll get dumped in space, he returns with his bag. Zipping it open he pulls out two more needles.

"You two are not getting nearly enough nutrients with your diet. These boosters will help tide you over. Mother and I will be monitoring your levels and I can return as needed for these shots."

He gives me a second shot and then gives one to Jenna. With that bit of business finished he takes his leave and we soon hear the drop ship fly off. Jenna builds up the fire and we both climb into bed and are soon sound asleep. When we wake we're both rested and feeling great. I should be sore as hell but Nero's shot worked wonders. Outside a light snow is falling, what will grow to be the first heavy snow of the season but from the information Mother downloaded into me I know that this will become a familiar sight to us. We'll have more than enough meat stored up to last us the winter, Jenna was very good at her job and we should have enough firewood. Our only concerns will be cabin fever and the possibility of the Monsignor showing up.

Chapter Six: Snow and Sex, Uninterrupted

By mid-December we'd decided that we were more than ready to get the fuck off of this planet. The charm of fresh air and simple living has more than worn off and we both want to go home. My body aches at the thought of our cute little apartment back home. Luckily we're not sniping at each other or anything but it's clear we both want out of here. Nero states that the device is about 35% charged at the moment, will be close to 50% by the end of the month. March, it looks like we'll have to hold out until March in this dump. The snow has fallen heavily for six weeks and we've barely left the cabin in that time frame. That leaves us with lots of free time and Jenna's filled it well.

First she came home with two wolfskins that I was able to fashion into some very warm garments that we can drape over our shoulders. With the plunging temperatures and frequent snows these garments became a necessity. Then she came home with something that's not a necessity but was oh so great: rope. When she opens the door a blast of cold and snow forces its way in before she slams the door shut again. Inside the fire is roaring and the room is toasty. Outside the sky is grey and heavy with more snow, on the ground there is already a good foot of snow on the ground and it sure looks like we'll get more. Jenna stamps snow off her feet before kicking off her shoes. Walking over I take the wolfskin off her shoulders and hang it on the hook next to the door. She tends to run hotter than I do so she doesn't need it in here but I do. I give her a kiss on the cheek and return to the fire and stir yet another stew. If I never have to eat stew again once I get off this fucking rock I'll die a happy woman. When I spin back around I see her still standing there with a giant smile on her face.

"What?" I ask.

"Look what I found," she holds up a huge bundle of thin rope and I start grinning even bigger than she does.

"Where?"

"Some dead Frenchmen in the woods, seems he got lost and sat down and then fell asleep. He was frozen against a tree but I was able to free this from him. When's dinner?"

"Ten minutes, at most," I reply, barely able to contain my excitement.

We eat in contented silence, both ready for the game to come. When finished I clean up and then we both climb into bed to let the food settle. Jenna is flat on her back and I'm curled up on my side with my head on her shoulder. My heart is thudding heavily in my chest and I reach out and grab Jenna's hand, bringing it to my heart so that she can feel it. When I look up at her I can see a knowing, wry smile on her face. Eventually Jenna gets up and drags one of the wooden chairs to the center of the room and then turns to me.

"Strip," she commands.

I get flushed and jump right out of bed. Feeling myself getting wet I start peeling off my clothes. As my mistress demands of me I fold the clothes up neatly and place them onto the bed. A neat pile grows until I am completely naked and shaking. I don't know if it's because I'm chilly or from anticipation. My mistress slowly walks around me, her fingertip lightly tracing my bare skin. When standing behind me I feel her breath on the skin of my neck. I keep waiting for her to start the game, to lean in and kiss me. Her breath gets warmer as she leans in and I can feel it hot in my ear.

"Sit." She orders, soft but firm.

I feel the smooth, worn wood on my backside as I take up my position. My mistress pulls my arms behind the back of the chair. She slowly, methodically works on the ropes. First she binds my upper arms, the rope biting my skin. I let out a loud exhale as I feel the passion rip through me. With a second bit of rope she pulls my wrists back and ties them together. That old favorite feeling rises up in me again, the release of having your movement taken away by a master. Moving to my front she stares right into my eyes. She has lust in her eyes and determination on her face as she deliberately pushes my legs open. I let out a little gasp but she's moved on, walking to the back of the chair again. My mistress pulls my legs back towards the back of the chair. Taking my ankles she wraps the rope around them.

When she's done my arms are bound together as well as my wrists and ankles. My mistress takes her final bit of rope and she connects my wrist bindings and my ankle ones, she pulls it taut and I try to squirm out of it but my mistress is very good and I can barely move. She's left space for me to shift if the pressure gets to be too much but not enough that I can escape on my own. I can feel my breath already becoming labored as I wait on my mistress. Standing in front of me she begins to slowly remove her clothing as well. With those removed, folded and placed on the bed she returns to standing in front of me. Then she circles, like a predator around its prey. I try to turn my head, keep her in my view at all times but cannot. When she stands to my left her hand reaches out and firmly grasps me by the throat, just below the jaw line. She doesn't press in, doesn't choke, but I know her hand is there and I gasp again. My mistress pulls my head to the side, facing her, as she leans in. This puts her firm, perky breast right in front of my face, hovering just centimeters away from my mouth.

"Suck," my mistress demands.

I lean in, arms and legs straining against the bonds, sending a flush of passion through my body, and I take her nipple into my mouth. As I suck in I feel it go hard, and soon my mistress cannot help but let out a moan. I get cocky, feel a smile form on my mouth, as I move from sucking her nipple to tracing around it with my tongue. It traces around and then on to the tip of her hard nipple. I can feel my own orgasm building up in me. The submission, to my mistress, and her dominance over me is driving me over the edge, not to mention the feel of the ropes and the elegance and freedom that comes from being bound. It all combines to put me on the edge. Even as I trace I can feel my breath becoming a pant and my mistress feels it coming too.

"No! No coming for you, my pet." She says as she pulls herself from me. I let out a loud exhale of frustration.

She lifts up her right leg and it thumps onto the chair, her bare foot mere inches from my ready core. My mistress looks me dead in the eyes as she inserts her middle and ring finger into herself. There's a brief moment when her eyes roll back, as her body gives into the pleasure, where she loses her dominance over me. It's not long before she regains it though and she begins to pump her fingers into and out of her core. The whole time our eyes are connected as she lets me know that she will have her orgasms whenever she choses and I must watch and wait for her permission to have mine. My whole body aches, yearns, for orgasm but the frustration only builds. My mistress starts panting and breathing heavy. I see her stomach start to quiver and then she lets out a loud cry and her orgasm crashes over her. I very much want to be doing the same thing to my self and try to move my arms but they strain against the ropes. That only sends another flush of passion through my body.

Jenna hangs her head for a moment and takes in a few deep breaths and makes me wait even longer. When she looks up she has that sly smile on her face, almost like she's coming up with her next plan and loves herself for it. She walks up to the chair and then straddles it, her face leaning over and staring directly into mine. With one hand she reaches back and grabs my hair. She yanks it back, hard, forcing my head up and pressing it into the back of the chair. I let out another gasp and my whole body jolts. Her grin grows more sadistic and then she leans in and kisses me. As her tongue fills up my mouth, thrusting into it, I close my eyes and moan softly. This only causes her to kiss me harder. She eases up on my hair and lowers herself down onto me, slightly to the side with her slightly slick core resting on my thigh. Slowly she moves her hips forward, grinding her sex along my skin and pushing my body towards the back of the chair.

"Fuck!" She pants.

When I open my mouth to say something she shoves her thumb into it, forcing me to suck it. This is her go to move when she wants me to keep quiet and a gag is not present. My mistress grinds herself on my thigh and is building up to a breakneck pace while I suck and moan out of frustrated pleasure on her thumb. She is panting heavily and screaming out curse words in a mishmash of French, Arturian and Mi'qmaq. With her weight pressing down on my body and pushing it back and forth across the chair I feel myself getting close to orgasm as well. I keep sucking on her thumb and try to bear my hips down to get myself over the hill but she beats me to it. Her whole body rocks and she lets out a loud, throaty curse (Mi'qmaq) and her sweaty body comes to a halt, her head coming to a rest on my shoulder. I moan in frustration with my lips still wrapped around her thumb. She raises her head and looks into my eyes.

"Does my pet want her own?"

I shake my head up and down vigorously, then I angle my body in a way so that she can enter me. My mistress slips her fingers into me with one hand while the other keeps her thumb in my mouth. She takes her time, fingers moving slowly deeper and deeper into me. That doesn't matter, I've been so close and so ready since just about the moment the ropes touched my skin that I come almost immediately. I'm moaning helplessly, completely out of control of my body, as a thunderous orgasm hits. It keeps rolling and my head lolls back, Jenna's thumb slipping out of my mouth, until it hits the back of the chair. Unlike her I cannot even form coherent words or even noises, producing just a high pitched scream. The scream dies down as the orgasm starts to pass. It takes awhile for me to even open my eyes and when I do I see her, smiling down at me. Jenna's face is glowing and I feel like my body is glowing and tingling as well. Reading my body language my mistress leans in and kisses me hard and deep. She breaks it off then silently goes about removing the rope, starting with my ankles and then finishing with my arms. Once out I feel like I can barely move but can also feel the remnants of her grinding on me. Sensing this Jenna walks over to pot of water over the hearth and pulls out a rag. She rings the hot water out and walks over to me, helping me stand when she gets to me.

Sometimes it amazes me that she can make the switch that soon, to go from hardcore Domme to loving girlfriend in the blink of an eye but she does it. Tenderly she wipes me down and when she finishes with me she wipes herself down. Then she takes the clothes off the bed and places them on the chair before pulling back the covers. I crawl into bed with her and we lay in silence, listening to each other breathe. Outside I can hear the wind howling and a storm is picking up. When we wake up in the morning the wind is just as loud as it was when we slipped to sleep. I look over to my love and she looks so at peace, so contented, in sleep. Her eyes open slowly and when she see's that I'm looking at her a smile creeps across her face and lights it up. Propping her head up on her elbow she looks down at me.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" I ask.

"Oui, mon amour. Je t'aime, Delphine." God, I love it when she speaks French.

Reaching up I grab her by the hair and pull her down to me. Even after last night I want some more, I need some more. We kiss, breathing heavy but without tongue. Her hair is soft in my hands and I run my fingers through it. I feel a switch go off in her, eroticism and passion exploding in my love. She starts kissing me harder and her tongue enters my mouth. I let myself fall backwards and she follows me down. While we continue to kiss I maneuver my leg around her outside hip. Next thing I know her body is on top of mine with my legs wrapped around her back. She begins thrusting her hips forward and I moan into her mouth. Our cores are rubbing together and building up the passion in both of us. Both of my hands are on her backside and help her thrust. Jenna slides her right hand down my stomach, sending a shiver up my body.

"Oui!" I cry out when her middle and ring fingers press into me.

With her hand cupped over me and her pelvis thrusting forward it almost makes me forget that we don't have a strap on here on this god forsaken planet. Her hips keep pounding in at me and each time her fingers thrust into me I scream out. With no thumb to suck on I will make as much noise as I please. While Jenna grunts in French and Mi'qmaq I stick to French. We're both building up a light sheen a sweat as she gets me closer and closer to orgasm.

"Baise-moi!" I scream out right as I come.

My lover barely lets me come down before she starts back up again. She kisses her way down my stomach and before I can really register anything I feel her tongue in me. This reduces me to speechlessness. All I can do is scream out in a high pitched tone while her tongue works its magic on me. She alternates between licking and sucking on my clit and then diving deep into my folds. My back arches, and my thighs press in on the sides of her head. I let my hands fall and my fingers go back to her hair. Jenna keeps up her pace and it isn't long before I come again. My mind crashes from pleasure overload and my body goes limp and my lover falls into me.

*******

Days bleed into weeks bleed into months. It would snow for days on end, ease up for a day or two and then start snowing again. Jenna made herself a pair of snowshoes and when the snow would ease up she'd head out and bring home more food. I was constantly bringing in the wood that the departed, and not missed in any way, Fenster spent his time cutting. That wood would get stacked along the wall to dry out so I could then use it to keep us warm and cook our food. Despite our fairly vigorous attempts at keeping clean we both stank, grew used to that smell and only get reminded of it when it got particularly bad. For the long stretches of time we did nothing but lounge around, listen to the wind or had sex. We had more sex than I'd ever had in my life, so much sex that I got fucked out.

Jenna, who had taken up whittling, lounged on the bed and was whittling what looked like a Slareth, an elephant looking creature found only on the colonies. I was sitting at the table and staring into space. It's sometime in late February and I keep wanting it to be over, for winter to end. If there wasn't so much snow we could maybe get out and take some walks, enjoy the untouched nature. Jenna gets to do that when she leaves to work the traps but I'm trapped in here. I cannot believe that this was how women were expected to live for much of human history. I can no longer take it, I'm so bored out of my skull that I start banging my head on the table. It's not hard, and not fast, but just a slow thumping.

"You're gonna hurt yourself, Captain."

"Don't care, it will relieve the boredom, maybe bring Nero down here."

"Aren't we close?"

"Three to six more weeks," I sigh and my forehead hits the table again.

"We could fuck."

"Ugh," I groan. "I never thought I'd ever say this to you, but I'm fucked out. I need at least a week off."

I hear her get up from the bed and then set her knife and the block of wood on the table. Her fingers run through my hair and I lift my head up, I let out another loud sigh. She doesn't say anything, just shakes her head no. After that she sits down in the other chair and just takes both of my hands into hers. These little gestures have the effect of centering me and taking the edge off of the deadening boredom.

"We're almost there, we just gotta hang on for a little while longer, mon amour."

"You really are the best, Jenna."

Chapter Seven: Witchcraft, Arising

Monsignor Thierry is a short and squat man, standing barely over five feet tall but having broad shoulders and a thick belly. He enjoys his wine and the trappings of home, of Paris, be that fine cooking or wine. He does everything in his power to get the fur traders to bring him things, a case of wine here, some brandy there and gets frightfully angry when they fail him and he is forced to dry out. Anything he can get his hands on he will eventually drink. His love of drink is what prompted the church, mainly his superior the Cardinal, to assign him to this Parish. The new world stinks, it's muddy and the people are backwards and little removed from the heathens that inhabited this land before the mighty French did. Outside of drinking the Monsignor really only liked one aspect of his life out here: getting these barkskins and farmers to give up the life they fought so hard for to go to war for a country they most likely haven't set foot in since they were children. All winter he stayed up and drank during the long nights and thought. He thought of the men he encountered and if he could sway them to his cause. For the Monsignor truly hated the British and if he was going to inhabit this muck filled backwater he was going damn well see to it that he didn't have to share it with the Brits.

Over and over he kept returning to the strange, rat like man who called himself Fenster. This man was very large, standing well over five foot six or seven but also quite frail looking. His narrow face truly had a rodent quality that his manner of speaking did nothing to alleviate. His grasp of French was rudimentary at best and would often slip into a mishmash of French, English and what he could only guess was heathen language picked up in his work as a barkskin, a woodcutter.