Title: ROOM TEMPERATURE
Author: R Schultz ( cousindream@aol.com )
Series: VOY
Code: J/Kes
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Sometime in third season.
Summary: Everyone knows the Captain must maintain distance to maintain command. It's accepted wisdom. But sometimes you gotta wish you could get closer to someone's thingamajig. Lots closer.
Disclaimer: Trekiverse belongs to Paramount/ViaBorgCom. They are very very VERY rich. I'm playing with the Trek for fun, not for money. They won't get any richer suing me. Hopefullu all these lovable sexy Trek critturs will go back hosed clean and sexually sated. Story mine under Berne Law. June, 2003. 3250 words long.
Warning: Lust between (fictional) adult consenting women is part of this story. If this neutralizes your inertial dampeners, why not go somewhere else? Those who are underage humanoids according to USA law are not welcome here. Nor is it a place for those living in nations or locales which disapprove of TrekSmut. Shove off. Go write to Pat Robertson or some other hypocrite. Adios.
Posted to the FFF, later to the ASCEML. May be archived, but please notify.
For more Femme Fuh-Q Fest stories, visit http://www.oocities.org/femme_fuhq_fest/
Comments to: cousindream@aol.com
by R Schultz
I wish Tom had been to my cabin last night. All smiles and smoothness and mostly knowing the right buttons to push on a girl. He can also be romantic, but it's always something laid on. Not something from the heart.
But when he lets me know he's got the itch, he is at least discreet. Our little secret. We fuck.
If he ever tells he goes out the airlock. An accident, of course. Got to keep the logs clean and tidy. Which is more than we keep my cabin if I let him come over. We fondle and paw and lick and get undressed. Then he might pour oil on me. He licks me. He fingers me. He lies about how sexy I am when I'm shiny with oil and crying for his Johnny.
At least he knows more about how to make a girl happy than Mark or Chakotay did. Tom is young, and he can get it up twice a night without chemical booster fuel. And he's willing to use his mouth. A lot. He even knows how to make a girl come on his fingers. His penis is just another tool he brings to a lustfest. I always come good, a number of times. Tom is very good at sex, actually.
I'm not entirely sure whether I should envy B'Elanna, since his emotions toward my Chief Engineer seem to be genuine. Or pity her. Because he lacks center, commitment, solidarity.
Because he will show up one night looking to see if the Captain would like to get her warp drive re-initialized. And B'Elanna will be left wondering who she should assassinate the next day.
What's really bad is that I think I'd invite him in for a thorough-going lube and flush.
It' too bad we just don't have anything to talk about outside of bed. Not unless I get a sudden enthusiasm for twentieth century automobiles and snooker. Actually I can beat him constantly at billiards and eight-ball, but it isn't nice for the Captain to humiliate her occasional fuck-buddy.
He probably even loves me as much as some of his toys. These days I keep hearing about him and B'Elanna. He may not be screwing her yet, but I have a feeling it won't be long now.
Now, this morning, I feel on edge again. Nothing major. Yet. I avoid coffee, and I hope I can be and act as if I'm at ease on the Bridge again.
I'm sure everyone notices whenever I've had my ashes hauled.
"The Captain must have gotten laid again, she isn't running around with her panties in a knot today!" That's what they probably say.
I wonder if Chakotay knows he got replaced by Vunder Kind? Captain Photon. What WAS I thinking of that first night I backed him up against the Turbolift wall and groped him?
I was thinking of getting laid. Be honest. I was twice -- two and a half times -- his age and had fantasies of being ravaged endlessly. At least three or four times a night.
There are no delusions in my cabin now. Tom Paris is just a Galaxy-class vibrator, and I'm just a hole in the storm. Someplace to park his flagship in.
God! What a situation. The only ass I'm getting belongs to an emotional retard with a prick; and the chutzpah to screw his commanding officer. Nice muscular ass, I love to rub it with my hands and feet when he is assaulting his superior officer. But still, nonetheless... And it's been too long between tussles. Far too long. Not weeks. Months.
I might drop by the EMH after shift. Have a nice bracing massage. Or simply toddle on home, break out the aromatic massage oil and my fingers and have a little romance with the only person I can gripe at. Me.
Miss Pollywoggle and I have been having fun for damned near forty years, and she's still the most uncomplicated good sex I can get.
On second thought, yes, definitely, get a massage. Do my numbers in the gym and then get a full-throttle George-all-the-way EMH Special. Complete with that large long Hypospray. Covered with a sheath on it and a layer of sex goo.
GodDAMN, but that Hypospray makes a perfect dildo. Spray a sheath on and slather the lube on that big-around thing. All those nice exciting bumps and thingamajigs on it.
The analytical Janeway mind. Cool, precise, perfect and calm. Thingamajigs. My mind will be the mental equivalent of fresh oozing rice pudding by the time we return to the Alpha Quadrant.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I was sweetly aromatic and post-shower refreshed when I breezed into the Sick Bay. The aromatic part was my little conceit. Not that the Doc was one to mind a little honest sweat off an old randy female. But there was no use stinking up Sick Bay, even if only a little bit and only until the air cleaners could catch all my exertion emissions. Sweat smell.
The Captain is going to get laid. She's got a little perfume on.
Kes suddenly appeared by my side, almost exactly like the EMH popping into existence. She must have been behind the Med Display column when I came inside. Surprised me a tad. Kes leaned forward, laying her hand on my shoulder to steady me, smiling that big toothy grin of hers at me.
I liked her. She was smaller than I was and that helped. She was soooooo non-threatening.
Where's that Hypospray? Thingamajigs. Is it hot in here or am I imagining things? The mind is going.
Such a beautiful little girl. Very odd at times, but lovely.
Killer ass. I remembered her from when that Warlord took her mind over. Those black leather pants looked like they had been sprayed on her. Her tight little butt cheeks looked like she could crack brazil nuts between them. Almonds at the least.
Neelix must have qualities not readily apparent to the naked eye. Back in the days when B'Elanna was passing on to me all the gossip that was good and dripping, she said the Delaney sisters had been wondering the same thing. Megan believed he was built like a Klingon warship, including the bulbous whatchamacallit at the front. Jenny bet he could clean the wax out of his ears with his tongue tip.
I liked Neelix too. He was smaller than me as well. It'd be nice if he had a big bulbous whatchamacallit at the front of his disruptor. Proving there WAS a Santa Claus in the Universe.
I need that massage. Really bad. Thoughts of Tom Paris and Neelix didn't help much.
I wished Tom had a big bulbous thingamajig at the front of his Johnny. No. I NEEDED a big bulbous thingamajig at the front of his Johnny.
"Is it too hot in here for you, Kes?" I asked. She dialed down the room temperature. The Captain needed to cool off. Sweet girl, Kes. Nice build. I finally found where the long large Hypospray was. Complete with bumps and thingamajigs.
This many years deep into the Delta quadrant I needed all the advantages I could find.
The fearless and coldly analytical mind of Captain K. Elizabeth Janeway was obsessing on big thingamajigs.
"Kes," I blurted, "I need a massage. A really good massage. A damned Galaxy-class massage. Where the hell is the Doctor?"
"The Doctor is busy making a House Call. Naomi is sick again. Here, Captain. I'll give you a massage. Strip, let me set up the massage board, and then hop on", she replied.
Quirky and perky. I don't want quirky and perky right now. I wanted a large cold metallic Hypospray covered with a plastic sheath and lots of fascinating bumps and thingamajigs and I want it right now.
Kes wouldn't take no for an answer. Well, actually she did. She just couldn't believe that I wasn't secretly yearning for one of her own special super-dooper massages. The Doc had been teaching her. Kes was a quick study.
So there I was. The sickbay on limited privacy shield, the Captain shedding her fresh clean gym suit, and Kes flexing her little strong fingers. I could see that damned Hypospray. Just lying there. Unused. I could practically hear it singing a whinny little sad paean of abandonment. Use me, use me, it sang, insert me, insert me lots of times! But it's voice was only for my drooping ears.
It was too cool in here now, but I'd feel such a fool if I dialed the room temperature up now.
Hell with that. The Captain ordered the Computer to raise the temp three degrees Kelvin. The Captain is down to goose bumpy skin and she needs her comfort zone.
Kes helped me onto the massage board, and possessively patted my big soft ass a few times. I jumped when the massage oil hit my back and buttocks, but relaxed as her strong Ocampan muscles began to treat my over-aged body like a fresh batch of bread needing to be thoroughly kneaded and pummeled.
Not a bad masseuse. Used her elbows where they counted. Slapped hard. She kept alternating between my butt and my neck and shoulders, bringing relaxation to my taut muscles. At least I couldn't see the Hypospray any more. I could hear it though. All those lovely bumps and thingamajigs. Use me, use me, it continued to plead.
Don't I wish. I was contemplating going back to my cabin, digging out one of my larger and nastier dildos, and pillaging and ravaging. Lots of ravaging. Having a few friendly ravages and pillages, just between me and Miss Pollywoggle.
I wondered just how well Neelix WAS built?
Thinking about a big bulbous thingamajig I almost didn't notice when Kes rolled me onto my back and continued her massage. Nice relaxing massage.
Then she took one of my nipples between her teeth and pulled it up, away from my chest. Hurting me. But not seriously.
"Kes?" I managed to question.
"Captain Janeway?" she returned. Then she pulled on the other nipple with her teeth and mouth.
"Oh my!" she trilled. "Look how hard your nipples get when I suck on them and work them with my fingers! I like fresh peaches. Well, out of the replicator at least. I like the big stones inside. That's what they look like right now. Wrinkly and hard and an absolute pleasure to chew on.
"You DO like having your nipples chewed on, don't you?" With that she swooped down again and proceeded to make my peach stones ever harder.
"Kes," I managed in a quivery voice. My peach stones were enjoying the attention but I was not sure if the rest of me should be enjoying it. "You're a girl."
She shook her head no. Very vigorously. Hard. With vigor. Lots of vigor. My left peach stone still happened to be in her mouth at the time. I groaned and shut my eyes and snapped my head back.
"Ocampan," she reminded me. "Female, yes, but not a girl." Semantics I get.
Having fully explained her stance on the matter she filled her delightfully sharp-toothed mouth with my right peach stone. My groan was louder than last time.
"I don't do girls," I explained as best as I could. "Have sex with girls. It's unnatural and perverse and StarFleet frowns on it and some other things I can't for the live of me recall at the moment, but they're all supposed to be wrong."
"You want me to stop?" Kes asked. "This is a massage. Not sex."
You could have fooled me.
"Do you want me to have sex with you?" she asked. Then she put my right peach stone back into that warm wet sucking tooth-filled mouth again. I don't think my peace stones have ever gotten that hard before. I had sudden hopes that maybe Kes would bring over my old friend, Mister Hypospray. Let us do this thing up right.
Her fingers kept pulling and pinching my left peach stone all this while. Then she switched and I began cooing at Kes. Lovely sharp toothed Kes with her magic tongue tip.
She was absolutely right. She was Ocampan and not exactly literally a girl, at least in the human sense. But who wanted sense with my peach stones as goddamned hard and hurting and happy as they were? I didn't even mind how hot the SickBay seemed now.
As long as it was a massage and not sex I guess it was okay. The thought even crossed my mind that I might give Kes a massage in return. It must be hard in hydroponics. Making mind emanations at all those plants and telling them they must grow big and hard...
Girl probably needs a little relaxation. Pardon. Ocampan.
"Kes..." I began to softly murmur, "seeing as how we're not having sex, have you ever noticed all those nice bumps and thingamajigs on the Hypospray? The big one the Doc keeps right over there?"
"Yes, Captain," she replied. "Give me eleven more minutes and if you still want the Hypospray I'll bring it over. If you absolutely insist. Though I should clean it again, clean it good, before using it in another full-body really relaxing Ocampan massage."
Again? My ears perked up at that. Kes had used Mister Hypospray on some other deserving female? In. Who else was enjoying Mister Hypospray? I was debating whether to be jealous or not when Kes discovered my belly button with a finger.
That sent fire trails right to my sex. That was nice, I'd never thought of my belly button as an erogeneous zone before. Not today, at least. So long as I wasn't having sex, I carefully allowed my thighs to open a few centimeters. My ears rang at the sudden movement of a little cool air on my by-now puffy labia.
I was seeing just how therapeutic a full-metal-jacket Ocampan Massage could be. VERY therapeutic.
Kes stuck her tongue into my belly button.
"It's such a lovely flower, Captain," she cooed. She blew air into it and finished cleaning all the whatchamacallits out of it. My knees lifted into the air for that one.
"Kes, darling, sweetheart," I cooed right back at her. "How long have I been doing without your delightful Ocampan massages? I mean, how long has this been a soup de jour in your menu?"
She leered up at me and said; "That would be telling." Then she grabbed my hands and placed them on my own nipples.
"Here," she stated. "I'm going to be busy for the next few minutes, therefore you're going to have to work on those peach stones by yourself. Be sure to pinch them hard. Peach stones look especially beautiful when they're hard and wrinkly like that.
"Oh, and you'll have to scoot down the massage board a bit. That's right." She placed her beautiful smiling self between my legs. Lovely teeth. My sex was drooling so much that even I noticed it. Lovely, lovely Ocampan.
She placed one of my feet on each shoulder and bent her face to my groin.
She kept smiling at me. It was a little hard to tell since she had suddenly acquired a big dark mustache and beard, but the crinkle lines around her eyes told me she was smiling.
Amongst other things.
What lovely eyes! I loved the eye contact. We were bonding.
"Computer," I managed to croak, "Captain's seal on the sick-bay hatch. You let anyone through and I'll keep you on quarter power when we're not using you. Forever. Omega Alpha-Alpha-Theta-Pi."
I think the Computer confirmed. It was difficult to remember as Kes stuck a finger in me and wriggled it right about then. Such sweet blue eyes. A shame to waste them on Neelix.
As I came down on the other side of my orgasmic bobsled ride, I realized Kes was not finished. Lovely little tunic pocket of hers held some gel. She slathered it on my whatchamacallit and then stuck two fingers into my whatsit. I clamped down and moaned. Then she found my girl-spot. By that time she had three fingers in.
My whatsit clamped down REALLY hard that time, imprisoning her inside me.
What a lovely smile Kes had. All those delightfully white SHARP teeth. Her lower face gleamed from all the come on it. My come.
Then she got a fourth finger in. For just a second. Reading my face she pulled out and put another ten or twenty layers of gel in me. Nice cold wonderful greasy soothing gel.
Four fingers went in easy this time. I had to sit up so I could watch the process. Lovely process. My vagina felt like it began with a ring of fire. A spasming ring of fire.
I goggled as Kes fed her thumb in as well.
A wet sloppy gooey liquid obscene pop and I was filled. My ring had opened up and she slid right in. Right up to her wrist.
What a beautiful wrist. I wished I could have kissed it because of the wonderful come I immediately had on it when she twisted her fist about inside me.
Then she twisted the other way. The damned Ocampan acrobat straddled one leg over, somehow, bringing me the feeling of being penetrated by the Delta Flyer, and then the other leg.
She'd gone all the way around with her fist. While it was inside me. She'd rotated it 360 degrees and I could feel every micro-millimeter of, especially since she kept that damned wonderful thumb of hers on top of her fist and I had a wonderful spark-filled fireworks display come. Wonderful stupendous Kes and her magic fist. I'm glad we're not having sex. Sex on top of what I'm enjoying right now would kill me.
When I could breathe again, though shallowly, Kes leaned closer to me.
"Do you still want me to bring Mister Hypospray over here and continue the massage with it?"
Hypospray? What Hypospray? At that second in time I don't think I could have felt anything smaller than a Clydesdale horse.
"Kes..." I managed.
Then she did the trick where she climbed over her own wrist again.
Wonderful limber acrobatic Ocampan female. Nasty Captain Janeway. She grunts like a pig and she's sweating like one. I told Kes it felt wonderful when she twisted her hand inside me. So she pumped it back and forth inside me, proving there are even better things in our wonderful universe.
My thighs hurt from where they were hanging over the sides of the massage table. Kes flexed her hand inside me a few dozen times and I forgot all about my thighs. They were in the air again by then anyways.
Delightful little blue-eyed minx began to move her flexing hand back and forth inside me. Long strokes. Bring on the Clydesdale Horses. A very wet pokka-pokka sound came from my whatsit. I must be creating a pool on the deck by now.
Kes licked my belly button somehow, calling it a flower again. She liked flowers. I liked Kes. Wonderful little Ocampan. With her lovely small fists. I could grow to like small fists.
Then she pulled out. Very obscene wet boot-in-mud sound then. Kes adored my ejaculation. So did I. I must have spattered the front of her clothes good when she pulled out.
I think my girl-spot must have been sterilized into oblivion by the heat inside my whatsit. I'd forgotten to keep pinching my peach stones, but they were still so hard they hurt.
Great advantage of having large breasts for my size is that I could just barely suck my own nipples. So I did. Kes came around and gave me a helping mouth.
Sweet Ocampan. Love those teeth.
She went and came back with the large Hypospray in her hand. All of sudden all those bumps and thingamajigs didn't have quite the appeal they had once had.
"Do you still want the Hypospray?"
I shook my head in a negative.
"Then do you mind if I use it? I'd like to use on myself. Right now, immediately. Giving you a good Ocampan massage is REALLY hard work and I need to relax." She groped her own whatsit. Naughty Ocampan. That was my job, I suddenly realized.
I sat up and motioned her closer. "If you can wait a little, we can go to my Cabin, and I can try giving you MY version of an Ocampan Massage." I playfully tapped her arm with my fist. My fist was nearly as small as hers. Or should I say large?
"Oh, wonderful!" Kes squealed. "And then I can give YOU another massage and then..." She'd gotten the idea.
I don't think I was going to need to worry too much about large bulbous thingamajigs again. Screw Neelix. Screw Tom Paris. Screw Chakotay. I licked the tasty knuckles of Kes' superb little hand. It had never struck me before how tasty my butterstuff was when it flowed out of my whatsit.
It was too hot in here, anyways. I can lower the room temperature easy in my cabin. Compensate for all the hot babes in it.
Stick with me, Kes. I'm a Captain who rules with an iron fist in a velvet glove.
That sounds kinky.
END