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Journal Entry 00671 210 000 Kathy's Tattoo

 

Kathy's Tattoo

Journal Entry 210 / 00671

Noren, Yavar 15, 00671

I was bent over my workbench, diligently trying to get the macro-
engineered parts of the food processor working. Not that I felt we needed
it, mind you; Pan and P'nyssa were doing more than their fair share of
work keeping us fed, but it would be nice to have an additional source of
food, especially something programmable. Okay, there is something visceral
in eating food you've killed yourself, but I wanted other things as well.
Like caffeine.

I heard the door to the repair and maintenance center open, and I
judged from the pattern and weight of footfalls that it was probably
Kathy. As she walked closer her scent rolled over me, and my judgement
was confirmed. She walked up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder.

I whirled, grabbing her hand and in one sweeping motion picking up the
other as well, hoisted them up over head and leaned her against the
back wall of the room. She whimpered slightly and I smiled, leaning down
and over to kiss her neck, when she said something. Something I'd never
heard her say before, something shocking, and it stopped me in my tracks.

Our safeword.

I released her hands. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" I asked.

"I... I can't, Ken. Not now." She smiled a weak smile. "You know, when
we... play at our little games, well.. you remember how I was in the
beginning. We started this because it made me feel attached to something,
it gave me a sense that somebody understood me. But now I can't. I'm
sorry. You and Pan, you both mean well, and you mean so much to me,
but right now I feel very lost, and tying me down isn't going to help."

I nodded. She continued, "Right now, I just need a hug." I looked at
her face, and tears welled in her eyes. I pulled her close to me and
wrapped my arms around her, holding her close. As she cried.

I felt very awkward; I never know what to do when somebody, anybody,
is crying in my arms. I want to say something and I know that anything
I say will be wrong, so I wait and hope that holding is enough.

After a while the sobs eased a little, and she wiped the tears from her
eyes. She'd gotten my tunic a little wet as well, but I didn't care. She
sniffled. "We're not getting out of here, are we?"

"I wouldn't say that. Pan's got the linear signal going, and we've got
food, water, shelter, clothes."

"They think we're dead, Ken. According to Pan's calculations, those
two weeks in statis put us sixty years in the future from when we were
attacked. We're shipwrecked, and even Pendor gives up after a while." Her
tears were still flowing.

Yeah, and we cracked the ship up pretty bad. Mark 743 Starcruisers take
a lot of damage, and the landing 'pressors had held up just long enough;
we'd been only four meters above the surface when pressor seven died,
tipping the ship over and smacking us into the ground. Here we were,
seven stranded castaways... when I think of it that way, I feel like
singing "Gilligan's Island," but Chroff has promised to slug me if I do.

She wiped away the tears. "I never... never did get a chance to show
you my tattoo, did I?"

"You've a tattoo? Kathy, I've seen you without your clothes at least a
dozen times since we boarded the 'Elen. Where are you hiding a tattoo?"

"Watch. Pedro, turn the lights down to ten percent, would you?"

The lights dimmed slowly as she backed away from me and unzipped her grey
jumpsuit. She smiled as she slid it over her hips, and I winked back,
getting a laugh from her. Although she'd let her pubic hair grow back,
it was only a light blond fuzz and the feather-and-stone charm I'd given
her hung clearly from it's stainless steel hook in her labia. I couldn't
see the lock, but I assumed it was there.

She turned her back on me as the light reached their most dim, and she
swept her hair over one shoulder, exposing her entire back. I watched her
closely, and I noticed a slight, dim glow emanating from the small of her
back. It was a handsome coppery color, and it began to grow in intensity
and spread up towards her shoulderblades and downwards towards her butt.

The glow at the center seemed to stop growing in intensity, a little
less than a candle in strength, and I could see that the image itself
was resolving.

The glow came from thousands of small spots a few millimeteres across on
a side, and I realized I was looking at a dragon. The head was at her
right shoulderblade looking left, it's wings across her back. The tail
trailed her left leg and stopped right above her knee, and the talons
were visible on her right buttock and hip. The coppery color flowed
and shimmered, and the spaces between the spots became more obvious,
resolving into scales. I was impressed with the technology, but more
than that I was impressed with artwork. It was beautiful.

"Kathy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a photograph of this for my wall?"

"You like it?"

"Like it?" I said. "It's incredible. Who did this?"

"The artwork is Pan's." She turned around and walked back over to me,
sitting naked in my lap. "He did it for me a few months ago, as a
painting, and I had Dr. Temgif transfer the image onto me."

I tentatively put my hand against her back, and stroked her skin. She
cooed at my touched, and it felt like normal skin. "What is it?" I asked.

"It's just a light-emitting tattoo."

"Does it hurt?"

"What now? Or getting it?"

"Both."

"Well, now it doesn't hurt at all. It feels like my normal skin, and
really that's all it is. I don't notice it at all, and there's no change
in my perception of touch.

"Getting it didn't hurt, not really. It's a lot more boring than you
think. It's not like getting a normal tattoo, it's more of a nanotech
thing. I got to sit in a zero-g chamber for about sixteen hours with
needles in both arms and a rotating scanner running along my body while
my back itched like crazy as they installed the entire matrix."

"Oh, so it's basically a subcutaneous installation."

"Yeah."

"It's neat," I said, scratching her back casually, now reassured that I
couldn't damage the artwork and that she could appreciate my stroking. It
was fascinating watching the glow ripple under my fingertips. I kissed
her neck.

"Hey, you've got work to do," she said, rising and grabbing for her
coveralls.

I seized her wrist. "Wait."

"What?"

"Sit down, please?" She sat back down on my lap. "Kathy, have we ever...
made love?"

She smiled, dimly illustrated by the light of her tattoo. "Lot's of
times... but not just... together. Why? Do you want to?"

"It would be nice," I said, my fingers softly caressing the her nipples.

She looked down at me and kissed my forehead, working her way over my
nose and down to my lips. In the soft light of her tattoo the whole world
became a gentle, coppery glow, and I said, "Pedro, lower the lights all
the way."

She smiled. "You really like my tattoo, don't you?"

"I love it. In fact, would you mind if we made love..."

"So you could see it?"

"Yeah."

She smiled, stood up and walked over to one of the larger chairs,
kneeling, bending over and sticking her ass up in the air. "I remember
the first session we ever had," giving me an evil grin, "when you ordered
me into this position."

I smiled and unbuckled my pants, dropping them to the floor. "Not much
into foreplay, are you?"

She smiled and said "Not right now... fuck me, Ken..."

"Should I take off my shirt?" I asked.

"No! Just get into me... now!" I raised on eyebrow; Kathy's was getting
impertinent. I knelt behind her, my cock surged to full length by
her talk.

It suddenly occurred to me that she still had her lock in place. In my
haste I nearly ripped the chain from around my throat and inserted it
into the lock, slipping it out from her labia. I dropped it to the floor,
placed one hand on her back and with the other aimed my cock into her
pussy and slid forward.

Her cunt, warm and familiar, sucked me in. Her tattoo glowed brighter,
and the eyes of the dragon glowed brighter still. It was fascinating, as
I began to fuck her; it was like fire, and I imagined small sparks arcing
from her back. She buried her head into the chair as I pummeled her.
"Harder!" she hissed.

I slowed down instead. The feather tickled my balls. "Please," she moaned,
imploring me, "harder, please."

Her magnificent ass arced upward as she begged. It made me smile. I
pulled back and slid my hand around her hips. I stopped moving entirely;
a small moan escaped her, and she ground her hips back towards me, but
I pulled back, then pulled her hard towards me, slamming into her, and
began relentlessly pounding her. "Yes... that's it," she said. "Harder,
yeah, I like it harder."

"You do, huh?" I said. I looked down, and the tail of the dragon glowed
below, the tiny pixels of it's claws shimmering over her buttock, and
the talons appeared to be flexing as I pounded against her ass, as her
full and beautiful flesh rippled as I fucked her. The light was becoming
brighter, or else I was just hallucinating. I didn't think it could
get any brighter, or any better. As I pounded her, small growls escaped
from my throat. I was going to come, ravishing her, and I suddenly lost
control, exploding into her, screaming and bending over her, filling
her cunt.

I slid out of her again, and I knelt down onto the floor. I kissed her
ass softly, panting, "Thank you, thank you." She knelt down on the floor
with me and said, "You're welcome."

I looked up at her, her hair a little sweatier and falling down in front
of her eyes. "Feel better?" I asked.

"Mm-hmm," she said, smiling, a little glint shining in her eyes. Her
tattoo faded away. "Pedro," she said, "lights up, just a little."

The lights came up and she sagged. "You have no idea how tiring that is."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"That's... That's glucose-driven. I need to go get something to eat."

"Then let's go. Let's see if that new fruit Sara found is any good."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are Copyright (c) 1989-2000 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Distribution limited
to electronic media not-for-profit use only. All other rights are reserved
to the author.

 

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