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Sam chewed mercilessly on the end of a pen. It was a habit she'd picked up only recently. When working on a particularly difficult problem, she would slide the tip of the pen, cap-end, between her teeth, and run her tongue across the cool, plastic shaft.
"Carter."
Sam jerked her head up and yanked the pen from her mouth. O'Neill was standing over her. "Sir?"
"You all right, Carter? You're looking a little flushed."
"I am not."
"Are too."
She stuck the pen back inside her mouth and ignored him.
"We have a little downtime. Don't feel you have to spend _all_ your time on the base."
Hm. "Maybe I'll take a long lunch..."
"You do that." He clapped her on the back and wandered out of the lab.
Two hours at home, with Janet, while Cassandra was at school... She made the call. Janet agreed.
Sam took a deep breath. The things Janet had done to her... Oh, the things... She remembered Janet on the bed; her dark skin flushed with arousal, her breasts offered to Sam for supplication, her large, lucid eyes holding Sam, directing Sam's every move...
Sam pulled the pen from her teeth. She needed to breathe. She needed to get a grip.
It wasn't that she didn't like it, oh she did. Every memory made her squirm. It's just that she hadn't felt that helpless, that nurtured, in a long time. Only her father could make her feel that way, with opposite results. And her mother... Well, maybe that was part of it.
Carter was nearer to 40 than 30, and had a Ph.D. and a field rank. That tough, butch part of her was, well, embarrassed. She wanted to reassert control. Sort of. Just over lunch.
A vision of Janet's eyes, deep and vulnerable, came to her. She wanted to see that look on Janet's face, right now. Her hands went to her trousers. She quickly undid the button fly and slid her hand to her wet, welcoming heat. Her clitoris throbbed. Just a little relief, and she could concentrate on the good of the planet. She opened her mouth in a wordless moan as she stroked herself. Janet had done this to her.
No. After a moment, Sam reluctantly freed her fingers from her pants. She'd wait. She'd show Janet what the diminutive woman had done to her. Sam could smell her own arousal even after carefully wiping her fingers on her trouser leg. Janet had made her crazy, and Janet would be made to pay.
Sam got home first and made preparations. She changed clothes and briefly considered, then rejected, the toy drawer. She didn't want any distractions; she was having enough trouble concentrating already.
She cleared the coffee table of half-empty soda cans, pocket change, and scraps of paper and tossed a few of the throw pillows from the couch onto the floor, just in case. Then she sat on the couch and waited, her heart pounding in her ears.
Sam nearly leapt off the couch when she heard Janet's car drive up, but she reminded herself she had a plan.
Janet walked into the living room, wearing her usual uniform. She'd kicked off her shoes at the front door, but she'd kept on her hose. Her tie was slightly askew, and her hair was down, tousled around her ears.
Sam's breath caught. Janet never allowed herself to look so... naughtily rumpled... while in uniform. Janet had been anticipating this afternoon, too.
Sam inhaled. It would be so easy to have Janet kneel at her feet and finish this quickly. The hours of aching and waiting had taken their toll on Sam. She should have gotten herself off at the base.
This was Janet's fault.
"You're late." Sam's tone came out more harshly than she intended. Janet blinked.
"Don't you know I've been waiting for you?"
"I'm sorry." Janet stepped forward.
"'You're sorry?' Do you know what you've been doing to me?" Sam stood and took the two strides to Janet, grabbing her wrist. "You've been a very bad girl." She pressed Janet's hand to her center, covering it with her own, unable to resist the need to grind against Janet's long, still fingers. "This is unacceptable in a professional work environment."
Janet curled her fingers against Sam, pressing the seam of her jeans against the spot that could make Sam forget all of her plans. "It is?" The small woman asked innocently, looking up at Sam, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Sam nearly passed out. The next words would either put the game in play, or end it. Sam wouldn't be able to muster the strength to resist Janet after that, she'd end up letting the doctor do her in any way she wanted on the carpet. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Fraiser," she managed.
The change in Janet's expression was immediate. She had a look of contrition as she dropped her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered huskily. "I don't want to be punished."
Sam had a last moment of hesitation. Was Janet's fear sincere? Did she remember the safe word?
As if reading her companion's expression, Janet's eyes flickered to the TV, and the DVD box set on top of it, then roved back to Sam's face.
Sam glanced over. Star Trek: The Next Generation. Janet remembered. Good. Very good.
Janet was still looking up at her. Her bottom lip quivered.
"You--" Sam's voice cracked. "You should have thought of that before. It's too late." Still holding Janet by the wrist, Sam retreated to the couch and drew Janet to her. "Across my lap," she ordered.
"No!" Janet retorted, her tone childish. She yanked her arm away from Sam.
Sam grabbed Janet's waist and pulled the woman down over her lap. Janet squirmed to get more comfortable, quieting at the touch of Sam's palm on her ass. Sam regretted having ignored the toys. Janet's crotch was perfectly positioned for a little friction.
~Well, you have her where you want her, flyboy. Now what are you gonna do?~
Janet was breathing hard into the cushion under her. Sam slowly stroked Janet's stocking-clad legs, her hand moving up the nylon toward Janet's bottom. When she reached the hem of Janet's skirt, Sam hesitated, fingering the wool. Janet moaned.
Sam relished the sound. Was Janet as into this as she was? Her hand slipped under Janet's skirt, quickly finding the woman's center. Janet was soaked. Her desire was apparent even through the shield of hose. Janet whimpered when Sam's fingers touched her, and the doctor lifted her ass imploringly.
"Have you been bad?" Sam asked, tugging Janet's skirt to her waist.
"Yes." Janet whispered.
"Yes, what?" Sam chastely petted Janet's bottom.
"Yes, I've been bad."
"Yes. What?" Sam insisted. She worked one finger between Janet's cheeks, causing the woman to hiss.
"Yes. Daddy." Janet said softly, and then paused, as if to see that was the right thing to say.
The smack filled the silence. Sam's hand landed hard on Janet's ass. Another pause, the silence even louder than before. Another smack.
Janet let out a moan of pleasure, and Sam began spanking her in earnest. When Janet squirmed, Sam harshly ordered her to stop, while her hand landed against Janet with a varying rhythm.
When her hand began to ache, Sam paused. She was breathless. Next time, ice water on the coffee table would be a good idea.
Janet exhaled.
Sam pulled Janet's stockings to her thighs to admire the results of her efforts. Janet's ass was pink and hot to the touch, and Sam could see more clearly the dark red curls glistening between the woman's thighs.
Her own jeans were wet through, she was sure, and her clitoris, engorged and throbbing, was raging at being confined by the tight denim and Janet's weight. Sam adjusted her seat. If she twisted the right way, she could come gazing at Janet's spanked bottom.
Janet's mewling reminded her of the task at hand, and she slid her middle finger down Janet's crack, teasing her rear entrance, before moving lower and sliding into her.
"Daddy," Janet pleaded, all pretense of Dr. Fraiser gone. Now she was just a little girl with an ache only Sam could relieve. "I'll be so, so good..." Janet whimpered.
Sam came, surprising herself. Her clit spasmed as she humped ineffectually up against Janet. She closed her eyes and shivered.
When she could breathe again, she crooned to her lover. "Yes, baby," and resumed sliding her finger in and out. She turned her hand to press her thumb against her partner's clitoris, and with the other hand, resumed spanking Janet. The posture was awkward, but the smacks were louder against bare skin.
Janet's cries were constant, and she began thrusting herself back against Sam's urgent hands. Sam gently massaged Janet's clitoris. She bent her head to bite Janet's ass, and Janet screamed into the couch cushion, thrusting herself against Sam and freezing, letting the shudders course through her body. Sam held her firmly, keeping the pressure up, until Janet relaxed into her arms.
Sam lifted her head and grinned cheekily when Janet stretched and rolled over onto her back. The small woman smiled lazily. "Thanks, Big Daddy."
Sam's grin got wider. "Anytime." She leaned down to kiss Janet.
Their kiss lingered tenderly for a moment, before Janet giggled. "Maybe I should start calling you that at the base."
"I think General Hammond might mind." Sam smirked.
"Good point." Janet scooted off Sam's lap and sat up. "Ow," she grunted. "I didn't hurt _you_ last night."
Sam tried to look apologetic. "Will you be all right at the base?"
"Oh, yeah." Janet said, reaching up to cup Sam's face. "Every time I sit down I'll think of you."