mirradin

I gave blood for the first time on Monday! The people were very nice and gave me biscuits after. I will find out my blood type at a later date.

The needle went in the usual place. (Left arm.) I now have two large bruises, but, amusingly, neither is centred on the puncture -- one is a two-inch streak angling up the arm that starts an inch above the puncture, and one is a shapeless blotch below the elbow. I can imagine how this happened (presumably blood leaked laterally under the skin and ended up away from the needlestick site), but I find it funny nonetheless.

I had a dream in which I invented a crochet machine somehow. Like a knitting machine, but for crochet. Now I'm awake, I'm wondering how the heck this would work. I mean, with crochet you only have one open stitch at a time, so a machine would have to work the fabric the same as a human..?

Also I was part of a travelling merchant/possibly criminal group and I think we were in trouble with the law somehow. Not sure what that was about. I do know that I was not suited to dealing with customers despite inventing a very valuable crochet machine.

Okay, I have reached “Secrets”, I’m not even halfway through...and I keep yelling “Go to Cimmeria, dammit!” at the screen.

Seriously. Sha’rei is in control of her body, they have a working Stargate right there, and they know the Asgard repaired Thor’s Hammer. They could get her de-Goa’ulded in less than a day. (Sure, wandering the labyrinth would be very unpleasant for a woman in advanced pregnancy, I can see that. On the other hand, they cleared out Unas and Teal’c could give her directions. Even if being transported into the Labyrinth sent her into labour, which is unlikely, she’d probably have time to make it to the exit.)

I know that this isn’t going to happen because that would be too easy, but STILL.

Edit after finishing the episode:

Okay, she almost certainly would have gone into labour before they even finished dialling the address, since that’s what actually happened.

I still think Cimmeria was the best option, dammit.

Today I finished articulating a cat skeleton!

And since this will make no sense to me five years from now: I'm currently working in the Anatomy department at the University. The pet cat of one of the academics died back in the summer, and he asked us to articulate the skeleton. One of the part-time techs who had been there longer taught me how to do this. Both of the part time techs (S and K) have now moved on to greener pastures, we will be getting more techs in January, and I finished the skeleton this afternoon.

Also I got an email from an HR lady in a different department, asking if I'd be happy to answer some questions about the group I used to work with...

She can't get enough friction. Canada whimpers through her gag, rubbing herself mindlessly against the blanket. The material is too soft, it doesn't put enough pressure on her tingling nipples -- not like Taiwan's clever fingers would, they'd pinch and roll the skin and Canada would love it, but she can't press herself down hard enough!

The ache between her legs is even worse, but she can't stimulate herself there with her hands tied the way they are. She can rub herself against the bed, and does, and gets another tiny tingle that isn't anywhere near enough, but makes her throb even more, and she's so wet already that it only adds to the sticky trickle she can feel seeping down her thighs. She shoves herself forwards again, but with her knees on the floor it's too hard, and she can only get a little bit of friction and then the ache gets stronger...

Canada forgets about her hands, forgets about everything, and grinds her hips down desperately in an effort to find something, anything! Her chin rests on the blanket and she doesn't care. She comes down hard and something presses through the fabric and yes, yes! Canada rubs against it frantically.

That's how Taiwan finds her, what feels like hours later -- kneeling beside the bed, tears on her face, a dark stain showing on her skirt, sobbing impotently as she rubs against her sandaled heel in a futile search from release.

The first Canada knows of Taiwan's return is the strong, sure hands suddenly latching around her upper arms and hauling her up onto the bed. She lands on her back. Canada whines in protest, trying to bring her foot up to rub herself again, and receives a sharp slap against one of her too-sensitive breasts. It hurts!

She whines again, and looks up to see -- Taiwan, her hair loose, her eyes bright and her face intent.

Canada arches hopefully, showing off her breasts and her belly, spreading her legs for Taiwan. Maybe now that Taiwan is here the other Nation will finally touch her!

"Bad girl," Taiwan says. "You couldn't even wait for me to come back, naughty thing!"

Canada squirms, humiliation briefly breaking through the fog of lust that pervades her mind. She couldn't wait, she was just rutting against her shoe in an effort to get off, and she didn't even care who saw. What must Taiwan think of her? She moans around the mouthful of damp fabric, trying to show contrition.

Taiwan laughs. "Don't give me that look. You're not sorry at all, are you?" She idly palms the breast she just slapped.

The tingle between her legs surges, and Canada's hips lift off the bed, her mind momentarily wiped blank by need. She arches her back, pressing herself into Taiwan's palm, desperate for sensation --

Taiwan slaps her again, harder. If Canada's mouth wasn't full of cloth, she would yelp.

"Behave yourself," Taiwan sing-songs. She gets back off the bed and starts to strip. First she takes off her jacket, draping it over the back of a nearby chair. Her shirt follows next, revealing a pair of small, perfect breasts in a plain black bra that looks beautiful against her skin. Canada can't look away.

She can look away even less when Taiwan steps out of her trousers, revealing a matching pair of black underpants. Canada stifles a whine.

"Now then," Taiwan says briskly. "What shall we do with you?" She comes back of the side of the bed, surveying Canada's bound form with a cool, intent gaze.

Touch me! Canada begs internally. Touch me, take me, anything, just make me come!

Taiwan smiles. "I know..." She reaches out and brushes stray strands of hair from Canada's sweaty face.

"Let's start with you apologising, shall we?"