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Passing the Time	By : Bebe Category: 1 through F > Andromeda Views: 3016 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Title: Passing the Time, Part 5
Author’s Note: Many, many apologies for leaving this for two weeks! I was without internet one weekend and busy the next, and it threw off my whole posting schedule. I hope I can keep it on a regular basis from now till the end.
Public Service Announcement: As this particular chapter includes mild bondage/domination, I want to warn anyone who might be squicked and/or triggered in advance! I would also like to remind everyone else that these are professional characters, and to please do your research on safe and consensual practices before tying or otherwise binding your partner(s). Thank you, and on with the chapter!
Beka swept into the room and immediately kicked off her shoes, even before she set down the bags she was carrying. Tyr had looked up from his computer terminal when she walked in, but waited until she’d dropped the two bags on the table— carefully– before commenting. “Shopping?”
“Exactly. I like earning money.” She grinned at him, then shook her head to change her hair back from the drab brown that she affected on this drift to its normal blonde. “Not as much as I’d like, but…”
“Do you expect more from menial labor?”
“Nah. Not really.” Although the fact that it was under the table meant that she at least didn’t have to pay the myriad fines on legitimately-earned money on the drift. “And it’s not really labor, that’s your job. It’s mostly sitting there directing foot traffic.”
“True.” He shut off the screen before coming over, reaching for one of the bags as he did. He raised an eyebrow when she snatched it away and it clinked. “What, precisely, did you buy?”
She gestured to the other one. “That one’s food. This one’s my stuff. Mostly, anyway.” She enjoyed not having to rely totally on his funds, as well as being able to spend what she wanted. The drift’s transitory culture meant that they had both, during the month that they had been here, been able to pick up unofficial jobs in the local economy. It wasn’t fantastic, but it made a break from sitting around staring at each other, not to mention wondering how much longer they had to make Tyr’s money last.
“Mostly?”
He’d started putting away the food, and now she headed to the small bathroom to remove the equally dull brown contact lenses. She’d had them in for hours, and they were starting to irritate her eyes. She shouted through the open door, “Yeah, mostly. And no, you don’t need to know what I got.” She was pretty sure she heard him grumbling in response, but she ignored it, especially since she’d brought the bag in with her. When she finally emerged, she slipped one of the items out before putting the rest in her footlocker. Tyr had probably figured out the combination long ago, but he either respected her privacy and didn’t use it or had checked it out long since and been smart enough not to let her know.
She chucked the now-empty bag on the table next to the other one and stepped up to Tyr where he was leaning against the table, arms crossed and waiting. She still had her hand behind her back. “Most of it is pretty dull stuff for me. A couple of pieces of clothing, some toiletries. There are a couple of things that you might be interested in, though.” When he didn’t comment, she held out her hand and let the set of handcuffs dangle from her fingers in front of him.
He stared at them for a moment— for all she knew, evaluating them professionally— without moving anything other than his eyes. Finally, he asked, still not having budged, “Are you perhaps under the impression that we may need to restrain someone soon? If that’s the case, then we had best cancel our arrangement here and move on.”
Beka let them sway, watched him track the metal. “No, they’re for you.”
“I would prefer to buy my own restraints, thank you. An amateur lockpick could open these in less time than it would take to fasten them.”
“They’re not a gift. And they’re not for use on a third party.”
She watched his expression as he ran through the possibilities and knew when he settled on the correct one. “No.”
“Why not?”
He held up a finger to emphasize his response. “Even setting aside the foolhardiness of restraining my movements in a place where we are exceedingly vulnerable and, should the worst happen, we would need my strength and… abilities… immediately, even setting aside that, I refuse to be bound.”
“What, Alpha males can’t be tied down?” she taunted him, sidling closer. “Afraid that I would do something dastardly to your person instead of just taking advantage? Or do you just not want to let me have complete control?”
“I don’t like being restrained.” Now that she was closer, she could almost feel the tension in his body. “It brings up some rather unpleasant associations that I would prefer to not think about in a sexual context.”
“Oh.” She’d almost forgotten about the slavery, as well as the time that he had gotten caught doing a job. He’d barely gotten off that time, at least from what he’d told her about it. “Sorry, I didn’t think.” And now it was awkward and she was much too close for comfort. “I just… thought it might be fun to try something different, and I… Well, I’ve tried it before, and…” She let her voice trail off and glanced up at his face. “Sorry?”
“Don’t be.” Tyr took the cuffs from her hand and considered them again. “It was hardly a bad idea. In fact,” and now he was outright smiling, “I think it’s an excellent idea, as long as I’m not the one being cuffed.”
“Oh, now wait one minute—”
“Were you going to suggest that I try something without trying it yourself?”
Now he was just being gratuitously irritating. “I have tried it myself, which is why I was thinking you should. I’m very bad at being submissive, and I figure you could use the humility.”
He had the gall to laugh. “Then perhaps you should go first, and show me how to do it properly. After all, if you want me to be willing to try it, I should have a practical demonstration of the parameters first, and know precisely what I would be getting myself into.” He swung the cuffs from his own hand now.
“Did you miss the part where I said I’m very bad at being submissive?”
“Then you could use the practice.”
It was that damn smirk that goaded her into it, and she said impulsively, “Fine, but if I say to let me go, you have to let me go. No matter what.”
“Agreed.” He at least made a pretense of looking serious for that one, and held out his other hand. “Keys?”
“Here.” She dropped them into his palm with ill grace and stepped back, extending her own arms as she did. “Go on, cuff me.”
The keys disappeared quickly, probably into one of his pockets, and he considered her stance. “No.”
“No? I thought you wanted me restrained.” She shook her hair back off her face and glared at him while she waited.
“Yes, but I prefer to anticipate problems before they arise.”
“Which means…?”
“Your shirt. Take it off.”
She groaned but tugged it off over her head, tossing it onto the table.
“And the bra.”
“But—”
“Off.”
It met the same fate as the shirt, and she held out her hands again, trying to ignore the fact that she was already half-naked and putting herself at his mercy. He shook his head again. “Back up. About three steps.” She gave him a funny look but did as requested. “Arms above your head.”
Oh. Beka looked up and identified the pipe that he was apparently going to cuff her to. Well, it looked sturdy enough, she just hoped that it lived up to that. Reluctantly she raised her arms up to the ceiling and he stepped close, turning her to properly align her with the pipe before snapping the cuff on one wrist and looping it over the pipe. She pulled her hand away slightly before he fastened the other side, though. “No matter what, right?”
He sighed. “Beka, if I were going to do something to you, I would have done it already.”
“I know, I’m just… checking.”
“As soon as you tell me to. Now.” He gestured toward the cuffs, and she let him snap other wrist into them.
Okay. She could deal with this. It wasn’t uncomfortable, although she could see it being that way if she had to hold her arms like this for any real period of time. The pipe combined with the chain length on the cuffs was at the right height for her to have a little slack, enough to move her arms a centimeter or two. With her legs together like they were now, she could rest her feet flat on the floor. So far, not too bad.
Having completed her evaluation of the situation, she focused instead on Tyr, who was apparently doing his own. His seemed to be concentrated on her breasts, lifted up and out by the position of her arms. “Enjoying the show?” she commented eventually, somewhat acerbically.
“Yes.” He smirked at her again, equilibrium back. “Normally I would content myself with alternate perspectives. However, this leads to a… rather interesting emphasis on different attributes.”
“Meaning that while you still really like my ass, this is a good view of my chest.”
“Precisely.” Still smirking, he reached to cup her breasts, something that made her relax infinitesimally, especially when he brushed his thumb over one nipple. “In fact, I rather appreciate it.”
“Great. Can you just…” She tried shifting to get him to do it again, but he pulled his hands away.
“I believe part of the point of you being bound is that I get to decide what happens?”
She sighed. “Fine,” she told him, forcing herself to hold still.
He seemed to take that as an invitation. He moved his hands back to her breasts, apparently fascinated, drawing teasing lines with his fingertips on the sensitive undersides and every so often rubbing a thumb over one of her nipples. It felt good, but not earthshattering, and she had to restrain herself from asking for more. Gradually, his touch became firmer, but still not what she wanted, and she was on the verge of giving in when he suddenly leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth. She gasped and arched up when he did, not expecting it at all, and he made a faint pleased rumble at her reaction, the vibration on her skin sending ripples of feeling down her torso. He stayed there, licking and sucking and teasing her other nipple with his hand for a few minutes while she gripped the chain of the cuffs and arched up to him. She could feel herself getting wet from the stimulation— not, she told herself firmly, from being strung up like this. “Tyr,” she said, finally, after he drew away to blow cool air over her nipple, “please, more, anything?”
“Why? You seem to be enjoying this.” And he traced a circle with his finger around the wet nipple, apparently watching fascinated as it hardened.
“Yes, and I’d enjoy some variety as well.”
He seemed to consider it, looking at her expression and glancing back down to her breasts. “In a moment,” he finally told her, and before she could say anything he leaned back down and went back to licking that nipple. She suppressed all those interesting things that she was thinking of calling him, mostly because it really did feel good, and was glad of that decision when he switched to the other side, scraping his teeth over the pink skin there.
“Tyr!”
He stopped again, although not until after another minute or two of doing things with his mouth that made her really wish her hands were free. “I suppose I can… try something else.” He grinned, aggravatingly, and let go of her breasts entirely. “In fact…” And now he skimmed those fingers over her skin down to her waist, “I believe I would like to.”
She held her breath as he slowly undid the fastenings of her long skirt, worn in an attempt to distance herself from Beka, who never wore them. Actually, this had been his idea, and she started to suspect him of an ulterior motive when he finished the fastenings and very carefully, very slowly pushed the fabric over her hips and let it slide down around her feet. “Very nice,” he commented, after staring at her body again for a minute. “I approve.”
The thong panties hadn’t been chosen with this purpose in mind, but she had to admit that they seemed to do the trick. His attention was more or less riveted to her lower body now. She shifted uneasily, the dampness between her thighs getting to her, and she could have sworn she saw a faint smile cross his face. He reached out and rested one hand on her hip before walking around her slowly, dragging his fingers across her abdomen between her navel and her waistband. She could hear him inhale next to her shoulder as he passed it, something that she knew he did sometimes to smell the hormones and chemicals rushing through her bloodstream when she was aroused. Keeping the slow pace, he circled around to stand behind her, his hand now on the opposite side from where he’d started, and took another deep breath, pressing his nose into her hair and his chest against her back. His other hand came to rest on her ribs, just below her breast, and he brushed it against her skin as he slid it down to the strap of the underwear, easing his thumb underneath.
Just take them off, please, they were starting to be uncomfortable, but he didn’t apparently obey telepathic pleas. Instead he stepped away, enough that she could feel the cool air over her spine, and pulled his hands away, leaving the panties where they were. She wondered what he was doing, then got her answer in the stinging slap of his hand against her ass.
“Tyr!” and he did it to the other side, growling faintly. She wanted to protest, just for a moment, but he slapped again and she gasped. She could feel blood rushing to the surface, the skin warming, and she bit down on her lower lip in preparation for the next, fractionally disappointed when it didn’t land immediately. Damn the restraints, she couldn’t see him to determine what he was thinking, and the uncertainty was driving her mad. She’d just opened her mouth, wanting to say something just to make him touch her again and give her some indication of what was going to happen, when he repeated the smack and her teeth clacked together from surprise and the force against her. Once, twice, three times, and not only was her flesh hot from the contact but she could feel a little more fluid between her legs. “Enough,” she managed when he pulled his arm back again, seeing the motion if nothing else out of the corner of her eye. He hesitated. She breathed a sigh of relief and started to relax, dropping back down to place her weight on the entire foot. She wasn’t sure when she’d moved to her toes.
She went back up onto them and hissed with another fast blow.
After a long moment when she wondered if she should demand release from the restraints, he stepped close to her again and murmured, “As you wish.” He slid his hand down over the skin— probably red by now, and radiating heat— and then moved around in front of her, taking off his shirt as he did so. She was staring at his bare chest, and then suddenly she wasn’t, as he crouched down in front of her. He hooked his fingers over the side straps of the panties again and drew them down, deliberately dragging them over the skin of her legs. When they reached her feet, she carefully lifted one foot and then the other, letting him pull both panties and skirt away from her legs and toss them over to the table. He stayed crouching, though, and slid a hand up the inside of her leg, starting at the ankle and pausing just above her knee. “Spread your legs.”
“What?” He did not just seriously say that to her. She stared down in disbelief, and he looked up at her, all innocence and sincerity.
“Spread your legs. You have room to do that.”
Oh, she was never agreeing to this again. Groaning, she shifted so that her feet were several inches apart. It meant that she had to rock up a little higher and put more weight on the balls of her feet, but between that and the grip she had on the chain she was okay. He seemed satisfied with that, sliding his hand up to just below the join of her thighs. He stayed there, just shy of what she wanted him touching, and it looked like he was leaning forward. She wondered, for just a second, if he was going to use his mouth on her, something he hadn’t done before, but then his pose straightened. Probably just sniffing her, but the thought of it sent a surge of heat through her anyway, and she knew it must have caught his attention because he suddenly looked a lot more focused. Without moving otherwise, he slid his fingers along her folds to her clit, the light touch making her tense up more than she thought it would. He repeated the motion, this time dipping the tips of his fingers just the slightest bit inside her and putting a little more pressure on the sensitive nerves. The third time, again more pressure, more depth, and she rocked her hips with it, moaning when he pulled away. Another slow caress and she lost it. “Come on, please, this isn’t fair making me wait like this and you know it— Ah!” He’d slid two of his fingers deep inside her, and now he pulled them back out, slowly, before standing and pressing his index finger, from the other hand, thankfully, against her lips. She didn’t like the taste of her own fluids.
“If you will not be quiet, we can stop this. You agreed, and I would like to do as I see fit. Understood?” He actually meant it, too, she realized, looking at his intent expression.
Rather than nod or agree, she opened her mouth and closed it around the finger, flicking her tongue over the tip gently. His eyes widened as he watched her suck on his finger, bobbing her head to slide her lips down to the second knuckle and then slowly moving back to the first, scraping her teeth gently over the end as she pulled her head away. “Understood,” she whispered finally, trying hard not to laugh at his expression after she’d fellated his finger. She was pretty sure that they’d just gotten a lot closer to the part she wanted.
After staring at her for a moment longer, he smirked again. “You are impatient, aren’t you?” He moved his hand from her mouth to the side of her face, let it rest there a moment. She thought for just a second that he was going to kiss her, but instead she felt his hand between her legs again, this time with just one finger sliding into her and back out, dragging up to her clit and pressing. She couldn’t prevent herself from jerking her hips forward in response, and bit her lip when he repeated the motion, teasing her with the imitation of what she wanted. Letting her eyes drift closed, she waited as he did it again, then dipped deeper into her and stroked her slowly. The speed of the caress increased and she started rocking her hips with it, rising up onto the balls of her feet to get him deeper, faster, where she wanted him. She was actually starting to whimper as she went higher, getting closer to her climax with each stroke.
And then he stopped.
Beka opened her eyes in enough time to see him scrabble at the fly of his pants, freeing himself and pushing the leather out of the way, and then he was pressed up against her, his hands cupping her rear and lifting her up against his body. She gripped the chains more tightly, let him pull her legs up until she could get them around his waist and cross her ankles behind his back, moaned at the feel of him against her. It was hard not to just use what leverage she had to rub against him, but she was glad she didn’t when he pulled her up a little higher and then let her slide down until he was pressing inside her. He groaned, his hands tensing on her skin, and she worried for just a second before he eased her down the rest of the way. It was frustrating to not be able to touch him when all she wanted was to pull him close and make him move.
“Please,” she said finally, feeling her breath catch in her throat. “I need you, please, now, I need you to do something, my God—” The last was broken as he lifted her, making her appreciate the strength in those arms even more when he slid her up and back down, pulling her hard against him and thrusting up to grind against her clit. Inability to move her arms aside, reduced to squeezing her legs around him to keep him close, it was still a thrilling experience, and she shuddered at the sensation when he tugged her down onto him again. The vibration of his groan against the sensitive skin of her neck made her gasp, and then she started to babble as he set up a fast, jerky rhythm, begging and pleading for him to make her come. Each motion ended with pressure against her most sensitive spot, him buried deeper than she would have thought possible, gravity working to push them together.
She felt herself tense a second before it happened, before he pulled her down again onto him, and then the tension released, making her cry out and close her eyes at the rush of sensation. She heard him groan again as she clenched around him, pressing her knees close to keep him there as the high slowly dissipated. Eventually, she opened her eyes again, still breathing hard. He was watching her, intently, and as soon as she looked at him he smirked again, this time almost as if he were gloating, and started to move her on him, forcing her to loosen her thighs and give him freedom of movement. One deliberate thrust as she slid down, another, and the smirk slowly disappeared, Tyr intent on his task and moving more quickly each time. He was starting to perspire from the effort, his forehead damp when he pressed it against her neck again and his hands slipping over her hips as he moved faster.
His next groan was all the warning she got, and she grabbed again for the chain of the cuffs when he bucked into her hard, making her gasp from the contact. Another jerk and his hands slipped again, and in a sudden surge of fear she tightened her legs around him again to keep from falling, driving him deeper into her. He pulled her closer in response, his whole body shuddering as he spilled deep inside her.
He stayed there, panting against her neck, for long moments. Finally, tired of being suspended, Beka wriggled her hips as much as she could and said, “Uh, Tyr? Sorry to ruin the mood, but my arms are starting to get really tired.”
She was fairly sure that was a snort against her skin. “Very well.” He straightened, slowly lifted her up and off of him, and made sure her feet were flat against the floor before he let her go. She winced a little at the feel of her thighs brushing against each other— while she hadn’t noticed it in the moment, the leather of his pants had been rubbing against her the entire time, and it wasn’t comfortable. He must not have seen it, not reacting as he reached into his pocket to retrieve the key for the handcuffs.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the faint click of one side coming undone and immediately pulled her arms down, taking care to swing the one with the cuff still attached so as not to hit either of them with the bracelet. He smiled at it and waited while she rubbed the newly freed wrist, taking advantage of the moment to fasten his pants back up. “Well?” she asked, as soon as he’d finished, and held out her other hand. “Did this manage to convince you, or do I need to do another demonstration?”
“I believe,” he murmured, unlocking the cuff, “that this was sufficient to convince me of the validity of your idea. However,” and he caught it as it slid off her wrist, “I am not yet convinced that I should be the one bound.”
She scowled, chafing the skin for a second before turning away to retrieve her clothes. “I should have known you’d say that.”
“Probably.” She heard him move behind her, knew he was there right before he pulled her back against him with his hands at her waist. “But then you may convince me eventually.” He leaned down, kissed her neck, and she had to grin.
“So eventually I might get to have my wicked way with you? Be still my beating heart.” Beka turned to face him. “But, ah, next time? If we do this again? We are leaving my arms down.”
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Passing the Time