Title: BYZANTINE 6
Author: R Schultz ( cousindream@aol.com )
Fandom: Star Trek
Series: Alternate Universe VOYAGER
Code: f/f, f/m, f/f/f
Pairings: 7/J, 7/others
Rating: NC-17
Surgeon General's Warning: Reading about sexual contact between consenting adults when presented in a positive light is liable to give you the notion that copulation is good for something other than producing more and more babies. This is in error. Obviously The Higher Being Who Created Us never meant for us to enjoy sex for its own sake or she'd have made it pleasurable.
Notice: This site is given four and a half crossed forks by the FFF Michelin Dining Guides. Read your FFF Writers Guide for advice as to where one can find Hot Chix for Gourmet Dining. The two should go together. You didn't lose YOUR copy, did you?
Descriptions of both sex and true love found here. And a partridge in a pear tree. The partridge is highly recommended. Delicious with orange glaze and bay leaves. Also Three Calling Birds. And ten maids a-milking. (Mind you I've never personally dined on ten milking maids liberally covered with orange glaze and bay leaves, but I'll let you know, if ever).
Disclaimer: Greedy Paramount and Tax-evading ViaBorgCom own Trek. I'm just borrowing the characters for fun-type fictional sex. Story mine under Berne Copyright Laws. This Novella in excess of 41,000 words when complete, this part 7300 words long, May, 2003. Speaking of pigs, I noticed the SEC let the brokerage firms off the hook again. Closure is all-important. Again. Some dude sticks up the 7-11 I'd like to see HIM get set free because it's important for everyone that we get this behind us and move on.
Additional Warning: Sex mentioned here. If this outrages your constricted morality, do not read. All those residing in a thought-free or censored community or country are not allowed to read this. Go away. Your masters have declared smut is bad for you. And they are always right. Fox Broadcasting agrees. After all, unbridled sexuality leads straightaway to cocaine addiction, unemployment, eating French Fries (as opposed to Freedom Fries), child molestation, listening to the Dixie Chicks, wife beating, joining unions, bankruptcy and voting straight Democratic.
Written for Round X of the Femme Fuh-Q Fest and kinky people, will be archived at the ASCEML.
For more great FFF stories, visit http://www.oocities.org/femme_fuhq_fest/
Comments as always to: cousindream@aol.com
Additional notice! This is now a Novella.
by R Schultz
[[ CHAPTER SIX OF SIX ]]
Summary: Seven received a poem months ago. Captain Janeway stuck it to her bio-catsuit while she regenerated. Seven investigated, and while investigating she discovered the joys of interpersonal cohabitation. Copulation, in other words. She likes it a lot. Pleasure is not irrelevant. But there are pitfalls when doing it a lot without thought to consequences. Additionally, now Seven has gone and done it up right. She's fallen in love. She's in pain, and she feels saved, both at the same time. Seven has discovered there is but one surety in existence. Not death or taxes, but change. Everything changes.
CHORUS FROM STAGE LEFT----------------- - - - - -
Naomi and Sam came by to visit the first night of my confinement to quarters. Naomi won three games of Kadis Kot, I won two. Sam let me know that it was not proper to flaunt and tease as I had. I apologized to her and Naomi and promised never to flaunt my body in such a public manner again.
However, I hoped Kathryn liked the costume.
Neelix came by later with two soft-boiled Bela Bird eggs over white lettuce. The lettuce was the same pale shade as my exercise costume. We let Naomi and Sam eat the eggs, as I already had my mineral and vitamin beverage that night. The lettuce would aid my body in developing biological functions.
Next night B'Elanna and Susan came by my cabin to gossip and be obviously friendly. They brought Miral with them. I believe both secretly wished for a repeat of our going away party. But as such an event would be damaging to their newfound relationship, I shall assiduously avoid it.
Primarily, however, I did not wish to be 'unfaithful' to my Captain. If she is not committed to me, nonetheless I am committed to her.
At first we three practiced my conversing. My conversational skills remain deficient. I am flawed, but this is a normal condition in the human collective. Susan let me hold Miral, and they both allowed me to change Miral's soiled 'nappys'. A small task, whose successful completion pleased B'Elanna inordinately. B'Elanna then suggested we play a game of cards.
B'Elanna does not play Poker very well. I am able to read her 'tells' so as to ascertain when she is bluffing. Replicator created a deck-holding 'shoe' and we switched to Baccarat, Banco, Chemin de Fer. The element of random chance is more important in this game.
When Megan showed up with Lieutenant Kim the game became more 'interesting'. Meaning all the others present (excepting Miral) enjoyed it more. I became the bank, and we played for one-twentieth ration points. Megan was the big winner. She gained five ration points total.
Mister Kim is attempting to 'get in Megan's pants'. A laudable objective. I could personally recommend Megan as a sexual partner. She is 'unbridled'. Megan is also a bigger 'tease' than I am. Nonetheless I believe Mister Kim shall succeed in enjoying the sexual favors of Megan Delaney. Eventually.
Thursday night Jenny and Megan practiced our 'boogie woogie' swing dance routines. We are learning to 'jump to the jive' and be 'swinging cats'.
Friday night the Captain visited me. She also had discovered my new dietary habits. She brought a single scoop of Double Fudge Ripple ice cream in a cup. She was nonplussed to discover seven other visitors already playing Baccarat with me.
I carefully ate it while being the Bank in the Banco game. It was imperative not to make our card games 'messy'. We created a folding chair for the Captain, and she observed how the game was played. Susan Nicoletti was two ration points ahead at that point, making her the big winner thus far. She had discovered the art of making side bets on the cards dealt to the two players engaged in the sequencing. As I was the House, and the House was losing, the two points 'came out of my hide'.
B'Elanna or Nicoletti made frequent pauses to look after Miral. Miral voided waste repeatedly, but this is normal for a humanoid infant. The child went right to sleep as soon as the Captain held her. Kathryn told the baby to hush and go to sleep. Being an obedient crew member she promptly did so. B'Elanna has been at great lengths to inform me I must not refer to her as an 'it'.
When we are lovers I must ask Kathryn how she felt about having a child with me. My ovaries had been excised by the Borg. Therefore the Captain would have to carry our child. Current technology could introduce viable DNA from my body into her egg.
Kathryn asked me how many decks of cards were in the shoe, and I told her there were seven, rather than the customary four. I could shuffle that many fifty-two card decks at a time, so we had created that as the upper limit possible for the shoe. Seven decks meant that only I could adequately 'count the cards', and as dealer I was disqualified as a player. I became the 'house'.
Jenny Delaney said 'munchies' were de rigeur at a friendly game. As I have 1,589 unused ration points, I called up 'cheese nachos' and 'dekkons' on my replicator. The house provided a 'Free Lunch'. I believe Jenny 'conned' me. This is acceptable.
Ensign Dokalei said the 'dekkons' were lovely, but were spicier than what she recalled from back on Bajor. I believe the replication was exact. Available data suggests all childhood memories are inaccurate. As salt and saturated fats were the primary ingredients in both 'snacks', I also decided the items were 'empty calories'. Nonetheless everyone else present enjoyed them. In the future I shall select no-fat fat substitutes from the replicator for the 'House's Free Lunch'. Also the 'cheese nachos' made the cards messy. We shall try pretzels and beer in proper non-spillable bulbs tomorrow night.
The human collective is not always either rational or neat.
Both Ensign Ewing and Ensign Dokalei left the game early, and the Captain became a player. She lost heavily. She ended the night down three ration points to the house. A good poker face is of little value in Banco.
She did not linger when the game 'broke up'. Words were said by her and the five others present about needing to regenerate for the next shift. Therefore all decided to call it a night.
At my open cabin door I managed to apologize to the Captain for my vulgar sexual display at the Gym. I promised that I shall in the future confine my vulgar displays of body for intimate moments with the one I loved. She blushed, and declined my physical body language which suggested I sought a good night kiss from her. I inclined my face to her and tilted it 31 degrees, but she said a good night and left.
The clean soapy scent of her hair and body lingered. She had used the sharp perfume 'Feedback' on her pulse points and neck, but had attempted to wash the scent off afterwards. Her lips and cheeks also bore bare traces of a plum 'lipstick' and such types of 'make-up' as is presently used in Federation space. She had removed them before actually coming to my cabin. Nonetheless she had contemplated using enhancements before visiting me.
With any 'luck' she will wear such cosmetic aids the next time she visits. The thought excited me. For it indicated Kathryn was increasingly viewing me as an acceptable lover.
INSTRUMENTAL SUITE--------------- - - - - - -
My eyes caught the Captain's as she breezed onto HoloDeck Two. She returned my smile and strode toward the present Proprietor of "Belle Starr's Saloon".
She halted me with a hand, and then slowly walked around me. I lifted my lace-gloved hands so she could admire the entire package. My many petticoats made ruffling noises as I partially turned for her.
She admired the effect. I was adorned with a garish 'lipstick' and excessive face make-up, as well as a 'cheap' rose scented bathwater, appropriate for a 'Madam' of a Wyoming saloon during the 'Wild West' period. I was also being ostentatiously 'femme'.
I wore my hair up with a Spanish comb, had a 'beauty mark' affixed to my right chin, and a black ribbon around my neck. A great deal of breast showed thanks to my not-very-authentic long dress, but it seemed appropriate to adhere to the HoloDrama image rather than authenticity in the matter of my garment. I was 'turned out' in a corseted blue-silk creation with numerous black and white stripes on the bottom half of my dress. A ruffled slash showed my ugly lace-up ladies half-boots, as well as a bit of black net stocking.
Tom Paris thought I had looked astonishingly genuine. Though he alone seemed to know that the expanse of bosom shown was not standard for the period. Lieutenant Paris is an unredeemable 'lech'. This is acceptable, as he 'ain't never gonna get it'.
I took the Captain for a tour of 'the best saloon to be found between Fort Laramie and Deseret'. Most of the players were holo-images, as were the two bartenders. Nonetheless three of the players were in StarFleet uniform, and two of the 'soiled doves' urging the StarFleet officers to bet heavily were actually Below Decks from Alpha shift. The ladies showed a great deal of hosiery-clad leg underneath archaic costuming. It has become increasingly important to the crew of VOYAGER that they find ways to 'dress up' and be NOT themselves for a period of time.
"Belle Starr's Saloon" was an excuse for crew to 'dress up' and momentarily lose their worries in a new recreational milieu. In this new venue Mister Kim had learned to play Faro, and Neelix had discovered 'Scat'. Lieutenant Kim was costumed as a Mortician of the period.
Noah Lessing entered with his present female adjunct. Both were dressed as cowboys, including empty holsters. No firearms allowed within town limits by order of the US Marshall.
They bellied up to the Bar, and ordered 'Redeye'. Ensign Lessing was served a synthehol gin gimlet, and his female 'sidekick' received a leather and wood tankard of Guinness Irish ale.
Kathryn obligingly ordered 'Redeye', and was given a small Bourbon over chipped ice. Not synthehol, I told her, but the real thing. The Bartender brought up the bottle, which read "Old Horse Blanket", but the insides were 18-year-old Indiana distilled "Marquiles" three-star. Or at least the usual close replicator approximation.
Kathryn complimented me on my research. She was obviously pleased that I had bothered to discover the manner of a rare indulgence. I restrained myself from attempting to kiss her soft ivory neck or strong lips. Kathryn noticed my looks, and blushed minutely to know my thoughts.
We 'kibitzed' the Poker game until I persuaded the Captain to take a hand. Tom Paris was dressed as an Army Sutler from the nearby Fort, and Ensign Chapman was a blue-jacketed Sargeant in the 9th Cavalry. Ensign Chapman had learned many social skills since our ill-fated 'date', as had I.
The Captain lost the next ten hands. In order to reassure her, I casually mentioned that I supervised the fairness of all the games of chance in the 'Saloon'. It was important for the 'House' to maintain a reputation for honesty and fairness.
Eventually Kathryn learned the blatant 'tells' Paris and Chapman flourished when they had a bad hand or good, and especially when Paris was bluffing.
Displaying my new human adeptness, I stated the Saloon would eventually become just another expected diversion where the crew could leave most of their troubles behind. But for the moment Sandrines and the Irish Fair Haven were 'old hat'.
The EMH appeared as a traveling Dentist, specializing in 'painless' mouth work. He played a pair of Gilbert and Sullivan librettos while pounding the keys of the tinny-sounding upright piano. I sang "My Lancelot" for the appreciative crowd. It was popular at one time in 'America', and was part of my learned repertoire, thanks to lessons from the EMH. In most 'Western' HoloDramas the 'Madam' sang, so I did so. Presumably the Captain noticed I feminized the 'he' into 'she'. I sang it just for her.
When the first Beta shift crew began to appear, the Captain called it a night. At the HoloDeck doors she blushed but allowed me to quickly kiss her hand.
Lovely strong hands. With my body as a shield I used the cover to quickly lick between two of her fingers. She turned a brighter red and quickly left. She was smiling, though. She strides firm steps as a Fleet Admiral should. Proud and sure.
She has such a 'perky' little ass on her. I am unsure what 'perky' defines, but I am sure Kathryn encompasses it.
"BEGUILED MY HEART I KNOW NOT WHY--"--------- - - - -
I was already on the arms weight machine when the Captain entered the gym. She saw me immediately, partly because so many eyes were discreetly 'checking me out'. She was being merely social; that was all. She came to me, openly admiring my form, body, and present modest wear.
"No longer flaunting the perfect body?" she asked.
"My Captain objects to it; therefore a more decorous ensemble seemed appropriate. Do you think she'll approve?"
Kathryn noticed the use of third person, but only smiled more broadly. "Probably," she replied, "but with an old battle axe like her there might be no pleasing her." We were making humorous chit-chat. I dutifully managed a flat chuckle. I wish my societal skills were more natural.
I left off on the machine, standing and posing for Kathryn. "Do you think I have a splendid body?" I innocently asked the Captain. "Others have admired it."
"What beats me,' she evaded, "is what someone who has a full complement of nanoites keeping the body in perfect shape is doing in the Gym having a little exercise?"
"This Cadet has come to realize how important gestures are in the human collective."
It is 'fun' playing 'word games' with Kathryn. Using the pontifical and Papal third-person is such a word game. I shall play any game the Captain wishes me to.
"As an example of my presently modified behavior, Cadet Seven now informs Engineer B'Elanna Torres when she is modifying some portion of the ship. That is a gesture.
"This Cadet is also being visible at performing a task which everyone else on this vessel must participate in. Essential maintenance of the bio-system through exercise.
"It is not necessary for Cadet Seven to exercise, but being here allows her to show everyone on VOYAGER that she also must perform the dreary duties necessity demands.
"That is not true. I do not NEED to exercise. However, I am present and accounted for. It is a gesture. One made to allow visible solidarity with the other crew members."
The Captain carefully looks about, noting again the preponderance of evasive stares at my presence. "Good thought," she says.
"Also," I added, " being in this milieu allows others to admire my body in motion. Even with concealing exercisewear, I draw attention. This is acceptable. My absorption into the human collective is advanced enough that I find a mild pleasure in being 'checked out' by others." Kathryn pointedly looked me up and down, smiling at my form. She got the message intended.
Unsaid was the additional 'hope' I had concerning exercising. My hoped-for opportunity presented itself within the next half-hour.
There were two gender-discriminated showers attached to the Gym, and though my 'sweat' was minimal, I used it. When the Captain entered the shower, I carefully 'checked her out'. She blushed deeply under my assessment, but strode forward nonetheless.
As I had imagined, she had an exquisite body. Kathryn was facing a strong pulsing of water when I came to stand next to her. I yearned to suck on those marvelous nipples, to bury my face in her thick mound of dark pubic hair, to enjoy her freckled body and make her come time and again. She sensed my nearness and turned to look in my face.
"Would you wash my back for me?" I handed her my nearly new bar of topaz-colored "Sauterne", and carefully turned around. I waited twelve seconds, but did not move.
Eventually I felt her first tentative touch, the erratic flow of the cleansing bar over my back and midriff. She almost washed my buttocks. After two hesitations, she finally found her voice.
"Here," she quavered. "All done."
"Thank you," I stated. I slowly turned and faced her. "Now it's your turn. Turn around, please."
From my lips words poured forth. I began to 'natter' about the difficulties Susan Nicoletti was having with the Third Pattern gel packs, and B'Elanna's decision to revert to Second Pattern.
The back of my free hand caressed her cheek.
I talked about Naomi's growing collection of Talaxian stuffed dolls. Neelix had also filled two Padd's with Folk Tales so that Naomi might call up her favorite legends as she wished.
The soap went into the wall sconce.
Both hands explored her waist, and one hand lifted her breast. Such a lovely soft flowing breast! The other also fit perfectly into my other exploring hand. Her breasts seemed made for caressing by a lover, as well as more utilitarian uses.
They hardened into my squeezing fingers. Kathryn needed to brace herself against the wall in order to control her shaking.
I talked about a request I was going to put in, to reduce my personal cabin Regenerative Cubicles to only two. One unit, with a back-up system. It was all that was necessary.
We were alone in the shower for these few unpredictable minutes. The water was running, and I leaned forward into the water to lick and kiss her neck and shoulders. So many freckles she had! I wished to count each and every one with the tip of my tongue.
Her now soapy skin was so soft and slick, her hair a bedraggled wonder I wished to run my fingers through. So I did so. She cried softly, as if I were hurting her.
She groaned as I caressed her ears and neck. She grasped and panted as my fingertips wandered down the line of her spine until they discovered the two little perfect violin sounding-hole depressions in the small of her back. Her teeth chattered as I traced their divine curliculed shape.
She whispered nonsense sounds aloud as my hands quickly caressed each wet butt cheek, then hurried up her side to the ticklish areas of her latisimus dorsai. She managed a pair of strangulated giggles, then cried in pain as my fingers sped to adore the flowing beauty of her large pliable breasts.
She shook as my fingers rediscovered the hardness of her nipples. She mumbled as one hand wandered down her incredibly smooth belly to her mound of equally incredible black-auburn body hair.
Her hips began to jerk back and forth in an unconscious sexual rhythm.
Now I talked of the problems in establishing additional computer nodes. My thumb and finger masturbated her precious little clitoris. Then I talked of the possibility of using archaic glass threads to reroute data. I stood there and calmly soaped her shoulders as someone else finally entered the ladies shower.
Nothing unusual happening here. Nothing. Excepting the all-too-human actions of the Ice Queen. Seven was doing a favor for the Captain. Or more properly speaking Seven was likely bending the Captain's ear unmercifully at a time when she was essentially defenseless and not expecting Seven's usual monologues concerning Seven's continuous search for mechanical perfection. Seven being quintessentially Seven. Bothering the Captain when she isn't expecting it.
How normal, how mundane. How non-sexual.
For Kathryn's sake I can be discreet.
I returned to finish showering. It took Kathryn four minutes and forty-four seconds before she began to once more move and look about herself in a normal fashion.
I had gotten further along in my seduction than I had originally hoped for, and I was enflamed.
Afterwards I hurried back to my cabin, and its spartan bed. My clothing quickly lay on the floor, I dialed up an interactive Risan dildo from the replicator, and took it to bed with me.
For the first time in my life I successfully masturbated.
It was stupendous. I had five orgasms. I missed the physical presence of a living lover, but for the moment my carefully-recalled images of Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway were sufficient.
Masturbation is good. There definitely exists better forms of sex, but masturbation is indeed good. Without any doubt the Captain was also bringing herself to needed self-release.
"---AND YET I'LL LOVE HER TILL I DIE"------ - - - - -
As was customary, I did not look about myself when someone else entered Astrogation. However, I knew my visitor was the Captain. Her carefully paced stride, her rigorously controlled breathing, and finally her unique scent told me when she was present. I turned to her and nodded, smiling, feeling tingly whenever she was near.
"May I be of assistance, Captain?"
"Just 'showing the flag'. You know how edgy I get if I haven't personally visited the many departments in this vessel in a while. I get to wondering as to what sort of mischief they might be up to."
"Do you seek 'mischief', Captain?" My skills are still rudimentary, but I do believe I successfully included an 'innuendo' or two in my statement.
"Seven," she began to say. She was attempting to make out my innuendo as a mere humorous by-play. I interrupted her by making space for her beside me at the console, indicating she might move forward with a casual wave of my hand.
"If you have the time, Captain, I wish to indicate our present siting in the local grouping of 'Hegemons' and 'Republics'."
A pattern of several color-coded groupings appeared on the board. Kathryn obligingly moved forward to lean against my console. I leaned forward to kiss her hair.
"The Zalkti Hegemon is an older entity, little interested in explosive expansion, though under military pressure from the expanding Buruban Node. They are indicated by the vermillion and lavender areas to the left middle of the screen." I brushed her hair to the side so that I might caress her warm savory neck with my tongue and lips. My hands found her arms and then her sides.
"The larger ultramarine blotch to the right center is a supposedly Federalist association, the Ardian League." I whispered in her ear how much I loved her, how much I wanted her, how sweet was the charming curve of her lips. She turned her head and we kissed as my hands roamed her belly and her face.
"In reality they are a squabbling melange of baronies and march lords, ready to cause trouble for any visitor like ourselves foolish enough to get in the way of their insanities."
Her tunic lifted to the touch of my hands and my shaking fingers romanced the soft swells of her waist and abdomen. Kathryn sighed deeply as I wormed one hand between her panties and her skin. She was entrancing. So warm and soft. She shook in irregular spasms as I made love to her silken skin.
The heat of her! The soft smoothness! I was in paradise as my other hand found her endearing warmth.
"On the other side of these three amalgams are four moribund Unitaries, the Thaa, the Porem, the Haas and the Chort. Our most direct and straightforward course would bring us into probable conflict with three of these aforementioned governmental units. Yet they should pose little threat to VOYAGER."
I was behind her, her own hands bent back; caressing my hips as both my hands delved into the exquisite dark verdant glory of her groin. She immediately began to buck into my fingers as I neared and then investigated her tight curly body hairs. The rich heated flavor of her wetness smote my nostrils like a glorious hammer. Her wet scent filled my mind with fire. She had come to Astrogation hoping to be sexed.
I fingered her clitoris with one thumb as a forefinger followed the cleft of her sex to her innermost secrecies.
"The dotted cerise line indicates our best probable course through these troublesome areas in order to avoid major confrontations. I am going to fuck you into a blinding come, darling, and as I do that I am going to continually change hands so that I can lick my fingers and taste you. I know you taste like nectar, soft buttery nectar. I NEED to taste you, oh, my sweet, sweet, sweet princess!"
Which is exactly what I did. I caressed her, she again turned her face to me. I kissed her, licked her chin and face, palpated her clitoris and rubbed the slickness of her cleft and labia. I inserted one finger and then another hand's finger into her.
She cried out angel phrases, not heard for six millenia, she mouthed celestial languages as she came, and came again on my invading fingers. And continually I replaced one hand with the other, so that I might lick my fingers of her soft irresistible flavors. She mumbled in words never before heard, she spoke in tongues of fire as she gripped my ceaselessly moving arms with her desperate hands.
I had never before spoke to myself or others in words of near-poetry. It was exhilirating.
"Enough!," she finally cried. I spent long minutes caressing her smooth soft giving belly, fingering the curliculed interweave of her Venus mound, the skin of my Goddess. Then I withdrew from the heated furnace of her clothes, allowing my dear Captain to eventually make those small motions necessary for her to once more feel normal and 'ship-shape'. She leaned against the console, panting heavily. After four minutes, she straightened and again assumed the aura of a being in full command of herself and her ship.
She turned, looking me calmly in my face. My hand caressed her chin. In return the back of her hand allowed itself to caress my eyebrow implant. I captured and kissed the palm of that hand.
"Do you agree with my new routing suggestions?" I asked. Then I struck forward, taking the lobe of her left ear between my teeth. I softly chewed it, allowing Kathryn to caress my tightly-bound blond hair.
"How much extra time will it cost us?" she asked. We kissed, and her tongue-tip touched my teeth before she withdrew and leaned back.
"Forty-nine to fifty hours."
"This is acceptable," she commented. She deliberately used one of my customary phrases. We are drawing closer.
I carefully watched her switch her 'perky' little butt as she left Astrometrics. She stopped, looked coyly over her shoulder, and 'wriggled her ass' for me. I imagined kissing each square micron of surface of that soft firm rear. The thought made me salivate excessively.
PLUS QU'IL N'EN FAUT-------------- - - - - - -
This was our tenth 'date' within the confines of her cabin. She had allowed me to masturbate her into orgasm on that couch, under the flow of Starbow. Perhaps tonight I would have more.
I had performed 'indencies' upon her in the Turbolift, in her Ready room, in a Jeffries tube between decks eight and seven, and fingered her into a crying orgasm in hydroponics with two crew in the next enclosure.
My Captain had a large risk-taking component in her personal makeup. I shall facilitate and comply. I have already compiled a list of three hundred and eighty-one 'situations' where Kathryn and I might have varying degrees of 'risky' sex. One hundred and forty-three of them involved full nudity and oral sex.
One hundred and three public spaces remained aboard ship in which it would be impossible for us to have sex together, without committing open public indecency. I am investigating thirty-one of them closely.
I solved the problem of performing oral sex in a state of mutual total nudity on the bridge in my first set of a hundred solutions. I am Borg.
Kathryn watched me materialize in her cabin, smiling at my bouquet of Green Carnations speckled with white corepeops. She took them with some glee, and tossed my wilted old bouquet into the replicator disposal. She gazed at her adorned vase, coyly avoiding my eyes.
Kathryn had also enjoyed my 'basic black' pants outfit with high heel half-boots. My Captain wanted her woman to be both female and masculine. Height was one manner of reinforcing the 'aura' of permissible male aggressiveness.
Most of my blouse was see-through, but I was yet demure behind swaths of solid cloth. It was also obvious I was wearing a bra. My too-large breasts constantly needed such support. Modern 'memory' bras flow to fit me perfectly, and they gave me support with minimal shoulder chafing. However bras still irritated my sense of perfection.
Kathryn Elizabeth smelled of a differing mix of sexual elixirs, but the flowers also permeated the cabin. Her body knew the purpose of tonight's 'date' even if her mind skittered at the thought of taking that final plunge into an 'affair'.
If she became my lover, it would become known.
When she became my lover.
As in a bad 'bodice-ripper' novel, her career upon return to StarFleet would be moribund. StarFleet 'talks a good game', but it sidelines lesbian or gay male commanders. All available data confirms that opinion.
I do not wish to hurt her career, but faced with the possibility of many additional long years of travel through Delta Quadrant, Kathryn's career was moot in any case.
This was a rationalization, however. I needed her. Without her I was incomplete, as I had been during that frightening voyage where I had been alone aboard our ship. Without her, life was meaningless. My search for perfection a personal compulsive obsessive fixation, nothing more.
Keats surmised that all humans enjoyed one true love in their lives. Each of us might have other loves, but there would be only the single great love. Unfettered by maudlin and romantic projections and errors, I know Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway is for me that single magnificent love.
As I am assimilated by the human collective I become increasingly prone to error. This is not an error.
It is time.
Aloud I murmured a phrase into her ear. "Plus qu'il n'en faut."
My hands found her shoulders, my mouth stole under her braid, my lips found her neck, she leaned back against me, rubbing her precious body against mine.
Kathryn turned, and we kissed, slowly, and increasingly passionately, for ten minutes and forty seconds. For the first time she allowed her hands to roam over my body. Finding me, searching me, loving me, masturbating me through my clothes.
"You're right," she breathed once we broke our kiss. "Its high time we ceased playing at love and got serious about things."
Kathryn took off our clothes. My clothes. Kathryn masturbated me time and again, until I was a quivering protoplasmic jelly. Kathryn told me to call her Kat. Kat laid my willing naked flesh down on the carpet and spent nine minutes and ten seconds licking her way from my lips to my nipples.
She caused me great and wonderful pain as she bit and nibbled my breasts and as her fingers 'reamed me out'. I came twice on her magical fingers and could no longer speak. Kat then licked her way down my belly to my remaining implants, turning them into erotic zones. I was in a state of near-terminal rictus by the time she finally began to lick my wet sexual parts.
She said I was totally splendid, I was delicious, she could not now recall why she had waited so long before dining on my splendid sex butter. She promised she would now 'eat me out' whenever she could. She loved the taste of my comes.
I ejaculated on her face the sex with her was so perfect. The exciting sight of her wet face made me feel faint. The feel of her mouth on my sexual parts made me see stars.
She then asked if I wanted to 'eat her out'. I bit my tongue so hard it bled, in my excited rush to say 'Yes!'
We both left wet spots on the carpet.
Sex is good. Kat is better. She makes mere sex transcendent.
OPENING CURTAIN------------------ - - - - - -
By now even little Naomi knew the Captain and I were 'together'. It was amateur night again. The crew of VOYAGER was starved for entertainment, and the Amateur Nights were the inevitable outcome. Tonight was MY Amateur Night.
I was not the only player on the bill, but I was a major presenter nonetheless. In the audience was a good portion of Alpha and Beta shift, including my gal.
Captain Janeway would have been offered a place of honor in any case, but I was glad she would be close enough to get the maximum effect of my 'acts'.
Tom Paris was the Master of Ceremonies, as he must, what with the many historical venues being displayed this night. He began the show with a single baby spot finding him sitting on the hood of a blue and white '66 Camaro, a microphone in his hand. From there he introduced each act, complete with a few wisecracks.
Our own 'Big Band' of the 1940's was the first group up. Four crew members played their instruments while twelve holographic musicians filled out the 'Swingsters of Bob Crosby'. Including Mister Kim on Clarinet. The first 'thrush' of the group was Ensign Pettijohn from Structural Engineering. After her enthusiastic performance I and five others were 'on'.
The lights rose up showing a floor full of dancers about to begin once the music came back. Six real, the rest holographic. Using Computer files, one of the holographic 'male' Zoot Suiters was a recreation of a long red-haired Doctor Beverly Crusher, of the ENTERPRISE. Counselor Deanna Troi was her female partner and 'swain'. Tom Paris had insisted, for his own reasons. I presume he thought them one-time lovers. It was against StarFleet protocol to use living holographic images. The 'Barclay" injunction.
I was in a 'Zoot Suit' appropriate for the era, as was Ensign Noah Lessing and Ensign Zhuang. We were the males. The symbolism of me posing as a male was not lost upon our audience, I am sure. Our 'broads' were the Delaney Sisters and the Bajoran, Chief Petty Officer Dahti Kolennar, from Life Support.
The ladies were in short dresses of primary colors, with matching underwear. Dancing the Jitterbug Rug meant the female showed much of her underwear and legs during the many energetic maneuvers.
The 'broads' were also in hosiery and garter belts of the same primary colors. The men (including myself) were dresed in their zoot suits of similar clashing primary color schemes as well. We were undeniably a 'spectacle'.
I was in shades of midnight blue and tule. Thin tule stripes accented my flamboyant blousy blue knee-length men's coat. A flat-topped and very wide-brimmed hat was on my head. A half-meter long gold watch chain ran from my watch pocket to it's fob on the other side of my pants front. My pants were high belted under my breasts and were 'pegged' at my ankles. I was a very be-bop a re-bop cat!
Megan Delaney, my partner, was in bright gaudy yellow skirt with matching suspenders and a black and white checked blouse. We made a good couple. Thanks to the Delaney Sisters efforts, my dancing was ALMOST flawless. At one point I missed the 'catch' on a twirl and Megan spun past me before she could recover.
To err is human. I am human. Fortunately the 'throws' into the air were faultless. Megan Delaney has a vital trait common to all StarFleet Officers. She 'has balls the size of Volkswagens'. An interesting metaphor. Available data indicates this means she is fearless when it is necessary. My Captain has 'immense balls' also. Appropriate for a Dom.
The 'swing' music was loud, brassy and fast paced. I was not easily prone to sweating, due to my nanoites. But I had already discovered we all perspired heavily during this type of dancing.
Despite my sweaty condition, the Captain embraced me 'backstage' and gave me a small kiss. At this time we no longer tried to pretend non-involvement. We were dating, we were already a scandal to some, we were open and obvious lesbians, we were in love.
On the bridge or in Astrometrics I was still my own old precise and infuriating self. Kat and B'Elanna said so.
B'Elanna and I still had the occasional 'tussle' in Engineering, but I was deliberately avoiding antagonizing our Chief Engineer. Perfection is non-attainable. Therefore it is illogical to irritate my fellow crew members in a useless quest for perfection. Nonetheless perfection is still a permissible goal.
Being allowed to be the lover of Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway is sufficient proof of the benefits of merely seeking perfection.
Kathryn says I can still be pedantic and 'stuffy'. That is the reason she 'tickles' me at sudden and unexpected moments. I don't need to giggle in reaction to a 'tickle', but I do it to please Kathryn.
During one of our ship's ever-occurring and perpetual crises, B'Elanna and I looked up from the jury-rigged controls of a repaired containment field and smiled at each other. B'Elanna gave me a prolonged kiss on my lips. I kissed her hand in return. Things have been much easier between us since.
Nothing lasts forever. Not hate. Not loss. Not pain. Excepting my love for Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway.
From the sidelines I watched the rest of the show, enjoying the pleasure Kathryn revealed as much as anything else. I had one more number. This one was special.
I had envisioned playing the harp for this show, but Jenny 'scotched' the idea. "Maybe next year," she said. Fingering a harp is a lengthy learning process.
This song was special. The EMH was my pianist, and the songs his 'torch' singer would present were the 'light-hearted'"Tangerine" and the 'torchy' "Someone To Watch Over Me".
I had apologized to him long ago for my coldness and callous behavior. He forgave me. He still loved me. That was a wound even now in the midst of my great romance. He loved me and there wasn't a damned thing either one of us could do about it.
Not all quests for perfection have a 'happy ending'.
As I sang my words with feeling, I took the mike over to where I was standing in front of my Kathryn. Instead of returning to the center stage, I signaled to the EMH to continue playing. Tom Paris obliged me by taking the microphone, and I held out my arms to Kathryn for this dance.
At the end of the music, a few people applauded us. One pair doing so was B'Elanna and Susan Nicoletti.
SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME------------------ - - - - -
Three months later the Captain and I were married.
CRESCENDO; - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The cabin door did not open until I commanded it to do so. I strode inside, carrying my giggling bride over the threshold of our cabin. Our. She was light in my arms.
She was also just a 'tad plastered'. Supposedly it was all those toasts at our reception. Actually she was using our nuptials as an excuse for acting as un-Captain-like as much as she felt I would let her get away with. Which was pretty far, but I wasn't about to tell her.
I let her down, and she promptly was leaned 'all over me'. Her hands and mouth touching and fondling the large quantity of me which wasn't covered by my own light blue wedding dress. Kat's dress was bone, stark, severe and plain. Mine was festooned with crepe, frills and tucks. We both showed an inordinate amount of cleavage. That was good. I liked showing Kathryn off.
She was not the only one who occasionally leaned over her partner at night and whispered; "MY breasts now!"
At one point B'Elanna, who was in a black leather mini-skirt and vest, stuck her face into my breasts. She allowed her excessive alcohol level to reveal that she always had resented the chest I wound up with. At that point Kathryn dragged me off to a corner for excessive displays of affection of her own. Kathryn has been wont to coo at my breasts during the night and mutter; "MY breasts now". She frequently falls asleep after a 'heavy' round of sexual activity with her lips glued to my nipples.
This is extremely acceptable.
After all,she was not the only one who occasionally suckled her partner's nipples at night and whispered; "MY breasts now!"
B'Elanna had been fondling my breasts, more in simple envy than lust. She is my friend. She can fondle my too-large breasts 'any damned time she wants to'. Kat allows me this.
"We're alone now," Kat smiled. "Our honeymoon doesn't start on Holodeck Two for another eighty minutes..."
"Eighty-four minutes."
"...Eighty-four minutes, whatever. What do you suggest we do until then?
"I know what!," she bubbled. "Let's go into the bedroom and we'll get undressed and we'll get transported site-to-site all naked and making mad passionate love and thereby put smiles on all those vacationers on Risa!"
"No, we shall not," I told Kat. She frowned at that and seemed about to say something.
"We shall undress here." With that I peeled back the binds on the sides and back of my wedding dress.
"Last one to get naked pays a forfeit." Despite my head start, Katie got nude before I did. No underwear and that simple sheath just went right over her head. She cheated. I had underwear on.
"You have won," I admitted. "What forfeit do you demand?"
She told me, but for that we needed a pair of twisting and connected-at-the-base interactive Risan toys and a trapeze.
Maybe not the trapeze. I remembered the sex swing B'Elanna and Susan procured for our last orgy. I shall mention the swing to my wife after our honeymoon.
"Later," I said, grabbing her and lifting her body to rub against mine. "First off I'm going to have my decadent and debauched way with your almost virginal and innocent body." I frequently steal interesting phrases and paragraphs from the available data base.
"My ass innocent," she replied. Kate nonetheless stood quiet when I deposited her on the floor. In seconds we were lying on the rug, my body on top of hers. Kat is a smart women. She guessed my intent when I kissed my way down her body to her inviting dark pubic vee.
She was, as always, delicious. Afterwards I requested that she do the same for me. She put a fierce struggle and lodged many protests, but in two seconds I had persuaded her.
She is so exquisitely beautiful when her mouth loves me so hard. Her eyes keep changing into other shades of blue, and she always stares at me when she loves me in this fashion. She is the perfect woman and the perfect wife.
Afterwards she lay alongside me, idly playing with my breasts. Pardon me. HER breasts, now. My lover possesses me, even though she does not own me. This is satisfactory.
"Something's different, darling," she whispered.
"We have a new rug in our quarters," I said. "The deep layered soft weave appealed to me. Jenny helped me pick out the color pattern. It is superior to regular StarFleet issue, is it not?"
Katie ran her strong small fingers through it, in much the same manner as she liked to play with my groin hair. "It's lovely," she said. "Soft, I like that, and it feels like the rug is a quarter-meter thick. I like it. Why did you get it?"
"For when we make love out in this main cabin area. Especially for when we rub our groins together. Our bed is too giving to allow perfect tribadism. However, Issue Carpet is too coarse and thin for 'locking loins'. You are aware we get 'rug burn'. This rug should limit the amount of rug burn we suffer."
Katie looked at me, then she smiled and shook her head. "Great color pattern, all those shades. What do they call it?"
"Byzantine."
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