The Vengeance Of Hathor by John O'Connor Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. Notes: Spoilers for "Hathor," "Out Of Mind," and "Into The Fire." Thanks to Han for the suggestion. Please be aware that this will include some non-consenting sex and some elements of domination. Part 3 Samantha Carter futilely tugged again at the clamps holding her arms stretched above her head. She knew the metal would never give, but frustration made her want to try anything. Sam was completely naked, chained to one of the ornate walls of Hathor's private chamber. She had no idea how long she had been here. Time had ceased to have meaning. Pain and pleasure had erased the concept from her mind. Only now, when the Goa'uld was not around, could Sam think clearly. Her back was crisscrossed with lash marks. She could feel the crusted blood crack every time she moved. Her wrists were lacerated from the cuffs and the blood ran in rivulets down her arms. The sting of unwiped sweat in her eyes was a constant irritant. The worst, by far, though was the Goa'uld device inside of her. She shivered as she thought of the it. * * * * * * Hathor stood before Sam, her body stripped of the usual garb. "Come, drink from Us. Share the nectar that only a god can bestow." The Gao'uld pushed Sam to her knees and, grabbing the back of Sam's head, pushed her face into the wet sex below the red pubic hair. Sam was aware that she hated and feared this creature but she also desired to please this woman. Her tongue snaked out and she began to lick the hot folds of skin, swallowing the sexual fluids seeping out of the alien. "Oh, Our sweet, you do please Us. We have not had a female excite Us so in many long millenia." Hathor roughly grabbed Sam's short hair and jerked her away. "We wish to be relaxed as you pleasure Us. And you do enjoy pleasuring Us, do you not, Our sweet?" Sam shook her head, afraid to open her mouth. Hathor smiled sweetly, a smile that Sam knew was a lie, "We see in your eyes that you do desire to enjoy Our fruits. You would also welcome Our pleasuring you, would you not? Ah, We fear that can only be accomplished in one way, Our sweet. But it can be a most rewarding experience," Hathor ran her hand down Sam's torso and cupped her between her legs. Sam inhaled sharply as she felt a finger slide inside. "You try to deny that We please you but We can feel your arousal on Our fingers," Hathor said as she licked the moistness off her finger. "We do find your flavor most delectable. Perhaps We shall sample it for Ourselves?" Hathor pushed Sam back on the cushioned platform and pulled her legs apart. As she bent to lick Sam, she smiled wickedly and pushed Sam's legs farther apart until the muscles and tendons were straining painfully. "Now perhaps We can reach the object of Our desire," the red-headed woman said into Sam. Her tongue began to dance across Sam's labia and Sam began to moan loudly. Just as the auburn woman had Sam on the verge of orgasm, Hathor stopped and bit the inside of Sam's thigh hard. Hard enough to draw blood. Sam screamed at this vicious attack. Hathor sat back on her heels and laughed, her round breasts jiggling. Even through the pain and emotional turmoil she was feeling, Sam was aroused by the sight. She started to finger herself when Hathor grabbed Sam's wrist in a vice-like grip. "Oh no, Our sweet! You cannot touch yourself, you may only touch Us. Must We use restraints?" Sam tried to pull away, and Hathor backhanded her across the face saying, "You do not resist Us! Ever!" Sam tasted blood and Hathor again laughed. "Perhaps discipline is what you require." Hathor walked over to the near wall and touched a projection. A copper-clad arm, human in design, with a set of dangling cuffs in the copper fist, extended out a couple of feet from the wall. The manacles hung almost eight feet from the floor. Hathor returned to the bed, grabbed Sam by the throat in one hand, and carried her towards the shackles. Taking one of Sam's hands and snapping the cuff closed, Hathor whispered in her ear, "You shall come to regret resisting Us. You shall learn that We are your god! You shall learn that nothing We desire is to be refused Us! You shall learn that pleasuring Us is the only reason you still exist!" As emphasis to her final statement, Hathor closed the other manacle around Sam's other arm, leaving her dangling above the floor. Touching the projection again, Hathor caused the arm to extend further from the wall. Hathor walked around Sam, lightly stroking her skin. "We find you to be more docile like this, Our sweet. But, perhaps not docile enough, eh?" Striding across the room to a cabinet set flush to the wall, the alien queen pulled out two objects. The smaller one was unfamiliar to Sam but the other she instantly recognized. It was a bullwhip! Tossing the strange object on the bed, Hathor crossed the room cracking the whip several times. "Now, Our sweet, you shall learn what it means to deny Us!" * * * * * * Sam tried to pull her mind away from the horrible memory of that whip and the woman wielding it. She tried to force herself to remember another woman, a much gentler woman, more caring and tender. Janet Fraiser. "Oh God, Janet! I miss you!" Sam whispered as she pictured the beautiful brunette with the laughing smile and the deep, soulful brown eyes. She remembered every detail of this so-special woman. An ache more painful than anything Hathor could induce filled Sam. She wanted so much to be back in that modest house in town, curled up with the pretty doctor, knowing the teenaged orphan they both cared for was safe down the hall. Sam began to quietly sob, the salty tears stinging the small cuts on her face. She was awash in a mix of loneliness, fear, and shame. She was afraid she'd never see her new family again, and she was ashamed of her fear. * * * * * * "We have grown weary of Our sport," Hathor said. She coiled the whip in her hand as she leaned forward and licked one of the many bleeding welts marring Sam's bare back. "Delicious!" Sam winced as contact was made with her torn flesh. She learned after the first minutes of her lashing not to cry out, it only intensified the evil creature's desire for further pain. "Hmm, We do find Ourselves to be intoxicated with you, Our sweet." Hathor grabbed Sam's chin, forcing her to look into Hathor's eyes, "Do you not feel the same about Us?" As Sam refused to speak, Hathor's eyes darkened menacingly. "So, you still dare to refuse to answer Us? Perhaps Our special little pet will loosen your tongue." Hathor crossed back to the bed and Sam damned herself for staring at the woman's naked backside as it swayed back and forth. Hathor returned carrying the strange device that Sam had seen her take from the cabinet before she was whipped. It was shaped roughly like a human hotdog, long, slender, rounded at both ends, with a pinkish color. Holding in Sam's direction, Hathor said, "This is one of Our personnal favorites, Our sweet. It is an Und'fre. It was created by Ourself for special stimulation. Shall We show you how Our little friend works? Yes, We believe that We shall." Hathor stepped closer and leaned close to Sam. Sam could smell the arousal coming from Hathor and she was suddenly on fire! More than anything else, Sam wanted to please the beautiful woman she had come to despise more than any other person. "Please, Hathor," Sam heard herself saying in a dry rasp, "Let me lick you. I must taste you!" "Ah, that is so much better, Our pet." Hathor smiled, "But this will be sufficient for Our needs at present." Hathor forced Sam's legs apart with one hand and slipped the alien device inside her with the other. It felt warm and alive! Sam gasped, she was still incredibly turned on by the woman who controlled her fate but fearful of this new machination of Hathor's devising. "The Und'fre is a living machine. It will bond with your body and react to whatever orders We direct to it. It melds with your flesh almost immediately, so We may begin." Hathor smiled, her eyes flashing up at Sam. The warmth in her crotch grew and spread. It was an intensely pleasant feeling radiating throughout her body. It slowly grew in intensity. Sam rolled her head between her upthrust arms, moaning as she neared ecstacy. After several long moments, Sam felt a worm of fear as the heat continued to grow and was fast becoming painful. The pain began to follow the pleasure waves until her body was alive with pain, every nerve ending on fire! Sam clenched her teeth, choking back the scream that threatened to erupt. Hathor began to titter, "Please Our sweet. Scream. It will give Us so much pleasure to hear your screams, and you will feel so much better. "The longer you resist your impulses, the greater the pain. And the pain will eventually become quite unbearable," Hathor warned, smiling. Sam's jaws ached from the pressure she had to exert to keep from voicing her pain. The pain passed into agony, the agony into never before experienced torment. Sam finally let go and screamed! It was a scream like the Damned gave voice to in the depths of Hades. The force of the scream tore at Sam's vocal chords and all the air was expelled from her body but, just before she passed out, the pain began to fade. * * * * * * Shivering as she remembered that horrible night over a week ago, Sam again tried to use her internal muscles to force the Und'fre out. It was a futlie gesture, she knew by this time. The evil device was fused to her flesh and only her death would free her from it's enslavement. "Oh God, Janet!" she prayed again. (c) John O'ConnerComments May Be Mailed Here