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Fandom: EssGeeWun
Title: Eyes
Author: Venom_69
Category: Smut, angst.
Pairing: Sam/Replicarter
Rating:
NC-17
Summary: No way in hell! Just read it.
Spoilers: Gemini
Season/sequel: Set during Gemini
Archive:
SJ, Heliopolis, my site. Anywhere else, sure, just let me know where so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them,
never will. Promise to put them back in the state I found them. Song isn’t mine either.
Author’s notes: Holy
crap I can’t believe I wrote this! *covers eyes* For Aud, cause she asked.
Feedback: Hell yeah! Don’t make
me beg, hit reply and stroke my ego please.
Dedication: As always, for LEW. For my honey, Aud. *Snogs*
Date: 08/01/2005
Copyright
© to Venom, 2005
***
Now this hot girl, she's not your average girl
She's a morpherotic dream from a magazine
And
she's so fine, designed to blow your mind
She's a dominatrix super-model beauty queen
***
She feels like
she’s being ripped apart form the inside out. She feels like there are hands everywhere on her body, finding and exploiting
every sensitive spot that she didn’t know she had. She feels like she wants to scream with the danger, pleasure and
eroticism of it all. She feels liberated, human, alive.
She feels dirty. This is so very wrong, and none of the others
would understand her desire to fuck, well, herself. Except not herself. Replicarter is so different. She has the bad streak
that Sam always wanted, but never knew she could have. She has the look of danger, potential, the look of power.
Replicarter’s
eyes had locked with hers and the look read so much. The eyes, so much her own but so not, had shone with the promise of pleasure
beyond any other Sam has known in her life. The promise that this… woman could fuck you until you screamed. Sam knows
how fitting that look was.
She isn’t ashamed of what they’re doing. She isn’t ashamed of the tongue
on her clitoris or the hand inside of her. She isn’t ashamed that once they have the situation under control, Teal’c
will fire and kill Replicarter. Because she is dangerous, she is a threat, but she is so good at this that Sam almost forgets
who she really is. Almost forgets what she really is.
Replicarter is just like the others, she has the ability to
manipulate her shape. Sam had watched, in fascination, awe and lust, as the other… woman, had manipulated the shape
of her hand to a size that would fit inside of her. Sparks had shot through her flushed body and she’d swallowed roughly
as those eyes had given her a glimpse of what was to come.
The tongue that had been madly playing with her clit pulls
back and Replicarter looks at the panting woman on the table. “Do you recall the Meccano set Mark had?”
Sam’s
brain is mush, her breathing is labored, her breasts are heavy and tender, and all of the blood in her body is way south of
where she needs it to be right now. A whimper is issued from her throat as Replicarter bites down on her clit, angered at
her inability to talk. “Yes.” She finally whispers.
“I’m like that.” Replicarter tells
her.
“I don’t under-oh!” The hand that had been inside of her, small and fit to match her body has
morphed, pulled itself apart in a dangerous game of pleasure while in a position to tear Sam apart from the inside out. It’s
changed shape, while insider of her and Sam can almost swear that she feels each replicator block touching the walls of her
uterus, crawling over her womb, heading for her ovaries.
They’re everywhere. Tickling, teasing, tormenting.
She feels each block as it crawls over her insides, feels them stimulating her delicate tissue.
A hand lengthens and
slithers up her body like a snake, tiny blocks dropping themselves on to her skin. On to her pubic mound, in her navel, along
her torso, over her breasts, her nipples and throat. They remain motionless. The fingers rest on her temple, and Sam can see
the familiar palm above her eyes, hovering, waiting, tempting, asking. “Yes,” She whispers.
The fingers
delve into her temple, but she doesn’t feel the pain. Replicarter bites on her clit again, and the blocks scatter on
her body- inside and out- move, lightly teasing her heated flesh.
She doesn’t feel a connection established,
though she knows she should. “We are one. I am in your mind, in your body, I feel what you feel.” Replicarter
explains.
To prove the point, a finger pushes against her anus. She moans, and realizes a split second later that it
was echoed by her counterpart. The finger doesn’t enter her; it just increases the threatening pressure. Sam doesn’t
ask where the finger came from, her thoughts too focused on the sensations coursing through her.
“It’s
incredible!” One, or perhaps both of them, gasp.
Despite what she knows, Sam could swear that the tiny block
scattered over and in her body have tiny little feet. Little feet that walks across her tender tissue in an intimate dance.
“Do
you feel them?” Replicarter asks in a hushed breath
Sam looks at the woman between her spread legs; her face
twisted in pleasure, eyes closed, biting her bottom lip, feeling everything. She sees herself, her darker, more wild and primal
self. She loves it. “God, yes.”
The replicators continue their dance, and her whole body is on fire. Each
breath is now a whimper, and she feels it coming, feels the pressure building in her abdomen. She cries out, a long, keening
wail that leaves her gasping. She feels the blocks contracting with her muscles, and hears her cries of fulfillment echoed.
Her orgasm is prolonged, probably because of the connection that they share, and every sensation is intensified a hundred
fold.
She knows that she will never feel like this again, so she relishes it. Lets each quiver roll over her in waves,
lets each sensation take control of her body. Each gasp or whimper that comes from her throat is one of pure joy.
This
is so wrong, but it feels so damn good.
Eventually, she slumps, sated. The other woman’s hand has retreated from
her, and she whimpers at the loss, feeling decidedly empty. Each block has crawled out from inside of her, from her body to
re-join Replicarter’s hand, and she watches them re-attach themselves in fascination.
“You are still going
to kill me.” Replicarter states.
Guilt wells within Sam, and she feels water pool in her eyes. She doesn’t
have the heart to confirm it out loud. “I’m sorry.”
“We all do what we must.” Is the
answer, and Sam sees the evil gleam in her eye.
***
*Twiddles thumbs nervously* Was it as bad as I think it
was?
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