An Interlude: Wherein Vala Becomes Bored, and Sam Learns a Lesson

by Max Rothschild

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© Copyright 2012 - Max Rothschild - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; D/s; club; leather; bond; femdom; bdsm; crop; straitjacket; bench; whip; stargate; reluct/cons; X

Sam had known she shouldn’t have invited Vala to come and stay with her. Everyone had told her exactly how stupid, moronic, insane, committable she was for even considering the idea. Colonel O’Neill had helpfully suggested she should offer her place to Vala, then take her in her car and drop her off in some remote spot in the surrounding wilderness. Sam had decided against this exceptionally well thought out advice and had instead done the unthinkable. She had brought Vala home.

The woman had immediately pointed out how “homey and cozy” the place was, though in a tone that made Sam grit her teeth together. Vala had then thrown herself down on Sam’s bed and gone to sleep. Sam had found herself on the couch. It had not been a good start.

The days had progressed into weeks and one night Sam came home to find Vala in the kitchen… cooking. Cooking something that smelled good. Cooking something that hadn’t burnt down the house.

Apparently Vala had been surfing on the Internet and had somehow gotten to a site where they had videos of cooking classes. She’d been extremely bored and decided to give it a try. Surprisingly she was talented at it. Even Vala had a domestic streak in her.

So, the two had sat down to a home-cooked meal of  Beer-Can Chicken, Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Buttered Baby Carrots. It was accompanied by the rest of the six-pack Vala had grabbed for the chicken. By the end of it Sam found herself stuffed and happy, with a rather pleasant buzz blurring her thoughts and senses. From what she could tell Vala was feeling the same. They’d gotten into a conversation over why Vala had needed a place to crash, as the SGC had supposedly found her a place to live. Outside of the giant mountain silo that is. Sam had known it had something to do with Vala’s legendary temper and stubbornness but she still had trouble believing her ears.

“It’s called a Co-Op because you’re supposed to co-operate with each other,” Sam used her finger to mop up the last dollop of potatoes from her plate. Vala shrugged.

“Yeah, so? I don’t play well with morons who act like mini-dictators.”

“Obviously. But did you really have to harm the tomato plants?”

“They aren’t as innocent as they make themselves out to be.”

Sam laughed, throwing her arms up in surrender. “Okay, the tomatoes are planning to take over the world, eh?”

“Maybe. I wasn’t sure of their final goal.” Vala deadpanned.

“Alright, now I know you’re drunk.” Sam got up, grabbed both plates and went to dump them in the kitchen sink. Vala followed with the beer mugs and cutlery and the two got down and dirty with soapsuds and dishcloths. When the housework was finished and they’d wiped the soapsuds off the ceiling, Vala glanced at the front door.

“I’m bored.”

Sam winced. Those were words everyone feared coming from Vala. They were usually succeeded by something blowing up, someone getting punched or, at the very least, some sort of major lawsuit. Sam didn’t want her house going up in smoke, she really didn’t feel like getting a black eye and courtrooms tended to give her hives after the sheer number of off-world ones she’d found herself in over the course of her SG1 career. So, out of desperation she said. “Why don’t we go to Denver?”

“Denver?” Vala smiled, her eyes glinting. “Sure, we could go there. I was on the Internet yesterday and saw a few places I’d like to visit.”

“What?” Sam asked. “Like the Zoo or Coors Field?”

“Why the hell would I want to go and stare at a field? You know how much I hate cows.” Vala was already putting on her leather jacket and was handing Sam hers. “No, there are a few “Night Clubs” I want to check in.”

“Check out.” Sam corrected distractedly, taking her jacket and slipping her arms into the supple material. “You want to go clubbing?”

“Yes.”

“So, we’re going out for a girl’s night in Denver?” Vala canted her head to one side, a silent question. “You know, no guys allowed, girl’s only. Do some flirting, some drinking and some dancing.”

“You dance?” Vala made the question sound as unlikely as Liberals taking over the Whitehouse.

Sam blushed and stammered. “Yeah, a bit. Sometimes… Haven’t in awhile.”

“Huh,” Vala gave her a once over. “Maybe I’ve under-estimated you, Sam.”

“Maybe.”

“Come on, get your bike out, let’s go.” Sam glanced at the wall clock. It’d been over two hours since she'd had anything to drink and dinner had done a good job of soaking up any excess alcohol. She wouldn’t get on her bike if she wasn’t dead sober. Though they would have to look into getting a hotel room once they arrived as there was more than a likely chance there would be more imbibing as the night progressed. But for now she was good to go.

* * *

“The Enclave?” Sam choked on her beer, spilling a small amount onto her chin. Vala didn’t seem to notice, her attention far more focused on a building across the street. They were in Commerce City, sitting at a bar stuck into the side of an industrial building, in the middle of an industrial district. Down the street was a fenced off lot that carried a sign warning people to stay out due to hazardous materials. And across from them sat The Enclave, one of Denver’s most notorious BDSM / Leather clubs.

“Yeah,” replied Vala, innocence written across her face, “I read about it online.”

“I bet you did.”

“The website said they were a well-priced private club. The owners looked like a nice couple…”

“Vala,” Sam wasn’t that easy a mark, and if Vala thought she was she had another think coming, “I would bet a whole year’s pay on the fact that you know exactly what sort of club that place is. And I would bet another year’s pay that you had every intention of bringing me here from the moment you said “Let’s go out”.”

“And so what if you were right?” Vala grinned wickedly at Sam. “Are you too scared to go and check the place out? Do handcuffs give you the wiggles?”

“Willies, Vala. And no, I’m not scared.” Sam took a deep breath, wondering how to phrase her thoughts so they didn’t sound like she was chickening out. “But you don’t just go and invade that sort of place. I may not be into whips and chains, but I don’t think the people who do that stuff are freaks to be gawked at.”

“Who said anything about gawking?” Vala was already up and taking money from Sam’s wallet to pay the barman. “I intend on getting my hands dirty.”

“What?” Sam found herself gaping up at the raven haired woman. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m saying we’re going in there, and having a good time. A Girl’s Night on the Town, as I think you said.”

Sam hesitated, glancing again across the road. Something was stirring low in her abdomen, a swirling heat that was difficult to ignore. For all her protestations to the opposite Sam did have a taste for whips and chains. Nothing much more than reading stories on the Net or picking up a book here or there. She’d found herself intrigued by the seductive world Anne Rice had brought to life in her Beauty series, which Sam had stumbled upon after reading through the Vampire ones. She had a pretty good stash of trashy romances with a dominate/submissive theme hidden in the back of her closet, along with her personal toys. After all, everyone had to have some down time; even super genius geeks.

But to actually step into that world, to see real people playing at sex slave was… frightening.  It brought her pulse up, adrenaline rushed through her system, priming her for fight or flight. Sam had felt this reaction more times than she could count, on battlefields far and wide. She was a trained soldier, taught to use the high brought on by fear to react quickly and correctly. So, what the hell was the correct reaction to this situation?

Sam never had a chance to make that decision. Vala made it for her in her usual fashion.

“I have your wallet.” She held the leather article in the air, dangling it above Sam’s swimming head. “So, either you come with me or your credit cards and I are going to have a wonderful night out.”

“Vala…” But the other woman was already heading for the door, cocky-ass grin plastered on her vixen features. Sam had no choice but to follow, though her body was telling her to flee for her life. “Damn you.”

Vala was already paying the doorman the entrance fee as Sam came to her side. A red-haired woman stood just inside the doorway, giving people a look over and writing comments in a small book. From what Sam could see, it was a list of names, topped by a heading of “Mistress / Slave”. Oh no…

“Hello,” the woman said, her eyes flickering over their clothing then nodding. “Thank you for dressing appropriately. Just so you know, tonight The Enclave is hosting a Wick’D event.”

“Yes, so I saw on the webpage.” Sam’s neck nearly cramped, as her head snapped around to stare at Vala. What was she up to? “All dominants must be women, right?”

“Yes’m.”

“Good.” Vala’s grin was wicked. “I don’t like men cramping my style.”

“May I ask your names?” The woman had her book out, her eyebrows raised in polite curiousity.

“Lady Vala and…” Vala looked at Sam, saw the panic in her blue eyes, “and pet.” She lowered her voice, so the other woman had to lean in. “She hasn’t yet earned her name.”

Something, probably important internal organs, spasmed  at Vala’s words. Sam opened her mouth to protest, to tell this unknown woman that Vala was crazy, had dragged her here against her will, and that she most certainly didn’t have to earn her name, dammit. But as always seemed to happen when one was around Vala Mal Doran, she wasn’t given the chance. A firm hand clamped itself around her upper arm and with a surprisingly fluid grace, Vala swept her into the club’s main room.

It wasn’t what Sam had been expecting.

No dark stone walls with manacles clinking away as moaning, scantily clad people were whipped by black leather-clad tormentors. Not that there wasn’t a lot of leather about, as that was one of the main ingredients in Enclave’s dress code. But the place was open and artistically designed. Soft colours predominated on the many sofas, offset by rich reds and dark wood throughout the main room. On the walls were bondage photography and paintings, many of them done with a talented hand. People were everywhere, dressed as differently as Sam had ever seen. Some were in leather and chains, others in velvet or latex. In fact, Sam began to feel distinctly underdressed though her dark slacks and leather jacket didn’t scream “outsider”.

“Come on,” Vala, her fingers still encircling Sam’s bicep, moved towards a set of chairs in the corner.

“Vala, we need to talk.”

“We do?” Vala dropped into one of the chairs. Her face was the picture of innocence. “Why?”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Sam growled, anger bringing a flush to her face. “You knew about this place! We didn’t get here accidentally, did we?”

“You’ve already had this tantrum, Sam. Get over it.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” A smile flickered at the corners of Vala’s lips, as she lounged back against the upholstery. Her jacket fell open and Sam caught sight of what she was wearing underneath. A black leather corset, inlaid with maroon brocade, obviously tailored to show off Vala’s assets. That swirling feeling was back in Sam’s stomach.

“Why here? Of all the places you could have dragged me, why here?”

Head cocked, Vala stared at Sam. “Because I thought you’d enjoy it.”

“You what?”

“I thought you’d enjoy it.” Vala was actually pouting slightly, seemingly put out by Sam’s anger.  “I mean, it certainly seemed to fit with all the books you’ve got hidden away in the back of your closet. And there were those web pages you bookended on the computer.”

Sam was too distracted to correct Vala’s misuse of words. She felt naked as Vala’s frank gaze held her. “You went through my stuff?”

“I was bored.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t anything good on the television.”

“So you went looking in my closet?”

“I’d already gone through the rest of the place. Where else did you expect me to look?”

Sam let out a wordless howl of anger and dropped her head into hands. She started to wonder if it would cause serious problems if she picked up the chair she was sitting on and smashed it into Vala’s smug face.

Yeah, probably.

“Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“Does it look like I am, Vala?”

“No,” Vala said sincerely. “But maybe if we look around a bit?”

“What would that do?”

“Maybe get you to loosen up? I mean, come on! You’re so suppressed I’m surprised you haven’t just snapped. And that’s just sad in someone who looks like you.” Sam peered out at the other woman, through the web of her fingers. Vala had leaned forward, allowing Sam a decent view of just what the corset was holding back. “I’ve never understood why you don’t have someone hanging around you. Well, other than that whole geek thing, and no social life.”

“Thanks Vala.”

“You’re welcome.” The sarcasm, as it often was, was lost on Vala. She stood up. “I’m getting bored, and you don’t want that. So, let’s go and see what’s back there.” She pointed towards an inset doorway, leading off the main room. Sam had a feeling she was being led by the nose, but she stood up and followed. “Ahhh, this is more like it. You know, this makes me think of this place I found once, the personal rooms of a prince who had taste for excitement…”

But Sam wasn’t listening to Vala’s words. This room, like the other, was tastefully decorated, but the furnishings were much less mundane. Against one wall an Amazonian woman was tying another woman to a padded table, leather straps being pulled tight. Each yank on the straps made the submissive woman moan in what was undeniable pleasure. Closer to hand a woman gazed out from a white metal cage. She smiled up at Sam, her eyes dancing in the atmospheric light.

The room was intoxicating, the people more so. Sam was so engaged in gazing about her that she didn’t notice Vala’s smile or when the other woman took her hand and pulled her across the floor to stand in front of a padded horse. She did notice when Vala slipped her hands under the lapels of her jacket and slid it from her shoulders. “What are you doing?”

“Playing. This is, after all, a Games Room.” Her tone was light, but Sam heard a deeper meaning. It sent a shiver through her. “Don’t you want to play, Sam?”

“I,” What could she say? This was her teammate, her friend. What the hell would it do to the dynamics of SG1 if she said yes? Which was what she wanted to say; it was what her body was screaming at her to say. “I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s better than “fuck off”, I suppose.” Vala’s fingers danced across the sensitive skin of Sam’s inner arm. Goosebumps began to spread outwards, making her skin ever more sensitive. She found her eyes closing in pleasure, her head falling back. “We’ll just take this a step at a time, hmm?”

“Uhhhmm…”

Vala’s laugh was almost a giggle. “That’s it Sam, just relax. I’m not going to hurt you. Well, not much, anyways.” The giggle became a darker chuckle as Sam’s eyes snapped open. “Pleasure and pain aren’t all that different, you know. Especially when they’re caused by someone with my skills.” Sam gasped as Vala’s leg moved between hers, pushing her back to the wall, trapping her there. A hunger burned in the darker woman’s eyes as she leaned in to whisper,

“Say yes, Sam.”

“Yes.” Sam’s breath was ragged, her pulse racing. Some part of her mind was screaming at her to stop, to shove Vala away and then run out into the night, but it was a very small part, and easily pushed to the back. Instead she turned her head and caught Vala’s lips in a passionate kiss. The woman seemed shocked at the bold move, but swiftly reciprocated. When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing hard.

“Well, at least we know you can kiss.”

“I’ve had some experience in that department, thank you very much.” Sam shook her blonde hair from her eyes and glared a challenge.

“Alright, I’ll give you that.” Vala smiled, moving away from Sam, whose knees suddenly didn’t want to support her. “But how much experience have you had with one of these?” A riding crop was delicately balanced on the palm of her left hand, leaving no doubt in Sam’s mind that the woman had held one before, and probably knew how to use it. Vala took her silence as an answer in itself. “There’s always a first time.”

With a speed and strength that took Sam by surprise, Vala grabbed her and forced her to lean, face down, across the padded horse. The leather was soft and supple, melding to her body. Her arms were taken and stretched to either side, there to be locked into waiting cuffs, her ankles dealt with in a similar fashion. Then she felt Vala’s hand caress her ass, which was now presented to the room. The vulnerability of her position shot bolts of sensation through her, the flight or fight response becoming something wholly new.

The first sthwack of the crop made her jump and yelp, pulling at the bindings. The short chains rattled, but Sam barely moved. Vala’s throaty laugh echoed in her ears. “Starting to realize what sort of trouble you’re in, my dear?” Another strike cracked the air and Sam yelled again.

“Somehow I just knew you’d be a screamer.”

A quick ten, light and dancing, followed by ten harder smacks, left Sam straining against the restraints, clenching her jaw shut so as to hold back her yells. But though the crop stung through the material of her slacks and though she was on full public display, Sam felt warmth creeping into her nether regions. Damn it all to hell, this was one of her fantasies, for god’s sake. Okay, not so much with Vala wielding the whip, but the idea of being tied down and whipped had popped up a time or two in the dark hours before dawn. As the blows continued to rain down, some hard, some soft, Sam found herself pushing her crotch against the padding, trying to work up a bit of friction. She froze when she heard Vala’s voice, close to her ear.

“Samantha Carter, what are you doing?” Sam went red, the blush burning her cheeks crimson. She was grateful that Vala couldn’t see her face. Fingers entwined in her short blonde hair and yanked her head up and back. Shit, now Vala could see her face. “I asked you a question, I expect to be answered.”

“Vala…”

“Lady Vala.”

“Oh, come on…OW!” The blow was the hardest yet, delivered bare-handed with Vala still clutching her hair tightly.

“You’re in no position to argue, Sam.” Vala stared into her eyes, daring her to talk back. “If I ask you a question, you are to respond to me promptly. And you are to address me as “M’lady”. Do you understand?” Another whack made Sam whimper. “Do you understand?”

“Yuh…yes, M’lady.” As though it had never been, the tension in Sam’s body relaxed. It was as if someone had cast a spell over her, loosening her muscles. Vala, whose hand was so tightly caught in her hair, felt the change and nodded.

“Good girl, Sam. Well done. This is what happens when you do what I want you to.” The hand left Sam’s hair and glided along her body until it reached the apex of her legs. Once there, Vala pushed hard against the fabric of her pants, grinding her palm against Sam’s mound.

“Oh God,” Sam’s moan was filled with need, causing her to blush once more. Her hips moved against Vala of their own accord. “Please, ohhhh, yes.”

“Sam, you are a wanton little thing,” Vala said, amused. “This isn’t the best angle for me to get at you. I think a change of position is needed. And perhaps a change of clothing.”

Vala moved away, out of Sam’s sight. For a moment she felt panicked, alone, but she trusted Vala not to leave her here, exposed, for too long. And the idea that someone could come along and… well, that didn’t hurt her racing libido either. After what felt like hours, Vala stepped back into her visual range, a bag of black leather in her hands.

“Look what I found.” Vala leaned down and undid the cuffs holding Sam’s wrists, allowing her to stand up, her legs still spread outwards, the horse supporting her waist. As the blood rushed from her head, Sam realized it wasn’t a bag in Vala’s hands, but something much more intricate. She’d seen them for sale online, had fantasized about how one would feel, but had never seen one in person before. It was a soft leather straightjacket, weighted with buckles and straps, all quite intimidating. “This will make things much easier for me, Sam. Put your arms up in the air. Now.”

Sam obeyed, allowing Vala to slip her white t-shirt over her head, leaving her in just her bra, which was pink and lacey. Vala cocked an amused eyebrow at the sight, but didn’t comment as she pushed Sam’s arms into the buckled sleeves of the straightjacket. More straps followed, and like the woman Sam had observed earlier, each time one was tightened she moaned. Finally Vala crossed her arms in front of her chest and pulled hard on the straps, welding Sam’s arms into her torso. A quick crouching move, and Sam's feet were free of her shackles, though her legs remained spread to balance her now immobile upper body. 

“Much better…” Vala pulled Sam back against her, hugging her hard. “Fight me, Sam. Try to escape.”

Sam did as told, putting everything she had into it. The leather creaked and the buckles clanked but there was no escape. Vala crowed with pleasure, running her hands across Sam’s stomach and downwards. This had the effect of causing Sam to arch back against her, nearly sending both to the floor.  Light on her feet, Vala twisted and slammed Sam bodily onto a wooden circle, winding her.  Sam’s chin went into a divot at the top, padded with yet more leather. As she struggled to get air into her lungs, she felt Vala pulling ropes back and forth across her body, like a spider wrapping its prey, weaving her against the device. Within moments Sam was unable to move an inch, her arms and chest pressed flat to the oak.

“Perfect!” Vala’s voice, filled with triumph, set Sam’s toes to tingling. “Now, let’s see what some of these whips can do. I think this one’ll be a good place to start.” A cat o’nine was dangled before her goggling eyes and Sam renewed her struggles. “I borrowed it from that rather nice fellow over there in the… well, the guy who’s not wearing much at all, to be truthful.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you, Vala?” Sam gasped, as the first blow fell.

“Yes,” Vala said, “I have.”

“Often?”

“Once, twice, a couple hundred times.” Sam could hear the shrug. “You lose count as the centuries pass you by. But…” A quick flick of the whip, and a yelp from Sam. “You’re certainly my favorite so far.”

For reasons Sam couldn’t quite comprehend, this made her smile like an idiot. Tied to a medieval torture device, wrapped in inescapable leather, her teammate with whip in hand, aiming for the most tender of places and all she could do was grin.

“Now, stop asking questions and starting yelping, pet. You really don’t want me to get to bored, do you?”

 

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