Title: Hot Stuff
Author: J. Juls (jjuls@tbc.net)
Series: TNG
Rating: NC-17
Codes: Sonya Gomez/Anij, (Barclay/llama), humor
Warning: Warning! This story should have a warning, but I don't put warnings. Read at your own risk.
Note 1: Written for the Femme Fuh-q Fest, http://www.oocities.org/Femme_Fuhq_fest.
Note 2: Sonya Gomez was an ensign that we met in Q Who. She spilled hot chocolate all over Picard. Anij was Picard's obligatory love interest in ST IX. She lives on a low-tech planet.
Summary: Our Enterprise-E crew look like such heroic beings on the silver screen. But that's only for show. What are they *really* like?
"Captain's Log Stardate 52906.2. We are preparing to leave planet Ho Ri Galz after an extended diplomatic mission. In my estimation, significant diplomatic progress has been made with Premier Lu Swi Min, and perhaps permission will be granted for other crews to take shore leave, er, engage in diplomacy there in the near future. As it stands now, all Starfleet vessels have been discouraged from visiting the region; I, however, believe that my First Officer, Commander Riker, is correct: that planets like Ho Ri Galz will never join the Federation unless friendly contact is occasionally made. Our crew should strive to boldly go where no one...where is that delete function? Never could figure out this new ship. Where many...no, delete, delete. Should seek out new life forms and...delete, delete, delete...should seek out life forms which, while they may not exactly be new, are still worthy of contact. And boldly go where others fear to...delete, delete. Ahem.
"I have, of course, ordered full decontamination protocols on all transporters. End log.
"Captain's personal log. I have not participated in this diplomatic mission, instead allowing my officers and crew to gather valuable...diplomatic experience. I am saving myself for shore leave, where I will meet Anij on Planet Ba'ku. End personal log."
Ship's time was 0400 hours, and the vast majority of the Enterprise's crew were in a dead sleep, exhausted by their labors on the planet below. Unseen by all but one officer, a shuttle entered its slip in Bay 3. Its lone occupant emerged immediately upon the door's sighing open. Backpack slung over one shoulder, he strolled toward the console where OD Ensign Smeeep waited.
"How was your journey, sir?"
"Uneventful."
In a split second, a tiny package was out of the traveler's backpack and in the possession of Smeeep, who tucked it into his collar. The shuttle's pilot smirked at him, a thank you for a job well done. It paid to have friends in the right places. That five grams of dried Spenseweed extract would have Smeeep and all of his friends floating around in M31 for days. He'd even heard of the effects being permanent in some cases--a lifelong high, its lucky recipients drooling and stumbling away their lives in a Federation Funny Farm somewhere.
Phobias were unpredictable animals, he thought as he made his way to the turbolift. One never knew when they might come back.
Data was sitting in ten-forward with Geordi, as was his wont of a Friday night (although they had stayed later than their usual time). Geordi was still very upset about missing the last away assignment and had wanted company as he "drowned his sorrows." Data, naturally, had obliged his friend. The lounge was almost deserted--just himself and Geordi at one table, Captain Picard and Commander Riker across the room, and a very few, mostly non-humanoid, lifeforms--when Reg Barclay entered. The lieutenant got a warm milk and approached their table. "May I join you, gentlemen?"
"Wight as mell, Reg. How was your loresheave, shroleave, I mean, dimplomaptic assigmnet?" Geordi asked--trying, and entirely failing, to focus both of his optical implants on their visitor. Geordi had already consumed far more than his usual ration of synthehol. Ordinarily, Data would have reminded him of this fact. With his emotion chip functioning, however, he had come to understand the reason for Geordi's drinking tonight and could sympathize with him--could, in fact, even be envious of Geordi's ability to become drunk.
"Oh, you should've been there, LaForge! The women. HOT women! Everywhere you look! And cheap? A real bargain!"
Data put an arm around Geordi's shoulder as Geordi started to cry. "Why, oh, why am I walays the one with the bad luck? I had to stay in Fuckbay--sickbay--the whole fuckin' shloreave..."
"'Diplomatic mission,' Geordi."
"...dimplomaptic mission." He gulped more of his drink.
"What happened?"
"Wow, the room's spinning..." Geordi stared at the ceiling, a shit-eating grin on his face. Data decided to answer for him.
"After we left Planet Ba'ku, Geordi's eyes began to degenerate again. Dr. Crusher did not think it safe to install optical implants until his vision was completely gone, but she confined him to Sickbay to observe his condition."
"Ohhhhhh, tough luck, huh, LaForge?"
"Talk about titty shiming. 'Course, even when the timing's right, I go wrong. Rem-bem-bember the Silo-cockfee icnidet, Data?"
"Yes, Geordi."
"The fuckin' females on the ship were so druckin' funk and horny, I boulda, coulda banged levery last oneofem. Allofem. Even Yasha, e'en Tasha. Oh fuck, was she hot! But nooooooooooooooooooooo, all I did was rope amound the fuckin' ship, askin' for perfeck vision. I coulda yanged, I coulda banged Yar; I coulda banged any of them plas-plastered women!" He looked in the vicinity of Data. "But chu know howitis, my frien'. Don'tcha?"
Data, with his perfect memory, could sense the event as if it had happened yesterday. ["Ohhhhhhhhhh, Data, yes! YES!!!! Ohhhhhh, you ARE fully functional. Fully, FULLY functional! Func me, baby, FUNC me!!!!!!"]
"I know, Geordi. I did not 'bang' anyone, either."
Geordi took another swig, though half of it dripped from his chin. "We shoulda wore spacespuits, for all the fuckin' good that dis-dease did us. What dood did it do me? Did I get a piece? Did I get a fuckin' piece? Shoulda wore spacespuits."
Geordi's optical sensors then rolled back into his head, and he would have collapsed hard onto the table were it not for Data's quick reaction in catching him. [So much for diplomacy,] Data thought.
He eased Geordi's head gently to the table. As the engineer snored peacefully, Data displayed his best stupid-android-head-twist to Barclay.
"Lieutenant Barclay."
Barclay had seemed about to get up. He now turned to Data, an appraising look about him.
"I find it most...intriguing that you were on Planet Ho Ri Galz for this mission. The ship's computer and I were both under the impression that you were in Engineering."
Now Barclay looked poleaxed. [Ha! I have indeed advanced in my study of human duplicity!] "I find that your computer skills are more advanced than would be evident by your normal professional performance. I believe that this skill merits the captain's attention--perhaps a promotion would be in order. I shall now inform him of your burgeoning computer skills." Data made as if to go.
"Data," Reg said hastily. Data froze. "Ummm, wait, okay?"
"As you wish." Data stayed motionless.
"I'd hate to...inconvenience you...in your leisure time. Why don't you tell him next week, in your monthly report?" Reg was fumbling in his pocket. Data fought to hide the anticipation which his emotion chip was generating.
"I suppose I could wait. After all, I have a perfect memory and never forget any fact to which I am exposed." Data tried to appear nonchalant as Reg palmed a tiny object and reached out to shake Data's hand.
"Forget, Data," he whispered. "From Binis. Good stuff."
Data felt smug as he stowed the thought-warping software under his fingernail. Later he would install it permanently, with a handy on-off switch. He smiled wistfully as he bent to pick up Geordi.
After Data left to carry Geordi back to his quarters, Reg sipped his milk and sat back to think. Damn that android! Reg always forgot: Data wasn't quite as stupid as he looked. [Me and my big fucking mouth! Good thing I always keep my inventory full.]
But that brought another problem to mind: his troubled finances. Starfleet sure didn't pay much. Of course, a person didn't need money on a starship, didn't usually even need money on Earth. But the planets they went to sometimes, the less-civilized planets, they wanted hard cash--latinum, dilithium, or at the very least, some Federation credits. He had spent every cred in his account just on that last mission. That didn't leave him any to spend on Planet Ba'ku tomorrow. Sure, the Ba'ku didn't want anything to do with money. On the other hand, the Son'a had started a healthy business in all kinds of contraband on their side of the planet. Reg knew he could finagle his way to a good profit somehow -- his "awkward rube Earther" act fooled 'em every time -- if only he had a little something for a down payment.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Picard speaking animatedly to Riker. Finishing his milk, he sauntered toward them and pretended to watch a nearby tri-d-chess game. It was always a good idea to keep track of the higher-ups' passions -- it helped so much during ass-kissing sessions.
"...and I never got a chance to tell you, Will. Anij actually *stopped* time!"
"What?"
"Yes! She...I don't know how to explain it to you, Will. That's one of the reasons I'm so anxious to get back to Ba'ku. The experience is indescribable! Somehow, after the initial surprise, I could still think at normal speed, but everything else seemed to slow down until it stopped. She told me I could learn, and I eventually did, when we were stuck in the cave. I...can I help you, Mr. Barclay?"
"Oh!" Reg realized he had been staring at Picard. "No, sir, sorry, sir. I was just leaving." Reg hurried away, his thoughts full of the most wondrous plan. He'd get one of those stupid, gullible Ba'ku to teach him the time trick. Then he could make zillions picking the pockets of everyone in sight! Not to mention, it might make him last longer during sex, too; that would save him plenty of money on whores. They sure were quick to kick a guy out of bed, whether he'd used up his whole fifteen minutes or not. Yes, this was a *plan*!
"Captain's Log Stardate 52913.5. We are approaching Planet Ba'ku, where I will begin my shore leave. As the Enterprise is needed in the Boot Sector in two days' time, only a limited number of visitors will be allowed on the Away Team. I have decided that anyone who did not participate in our diplomatic mission to Ho Ri Galz should be allowed to go: according to the Transporter logs, the team will consist of myself, Commander Data, Commander Geordi LaForge, Lieutenant Sonya Gomez, Ensign M Smeeep, Commander Beverly Crusher, and Lieutenant Reginald Barclay."
:::cheekeedeek:::
"Picard here."
"Riker here, sir. Lieutenant Smeeep has requested that he be allowed to spend shore leave in his quarters. Commander Data has volunteered to work on the bridge. He has also volunteered...to...quoting here...'clean the primary sewage-recycling units on Deck 24...with my tongue...if that is what is required to allow me to stay away from Planet Ba'ku.' Sir."
"Make it so, Number One!" Picard smiled to himself. [That Data--such a hard worker! I may have to promote him to Commander one day.]
"Barclay to Smeeep." Reg waited. Nothing. "BARCLAY to Ensign SMEEEP! RESPOND!" Reg waited a few more seconds. "Barclay to..."
:::cheekeedeek::: "I AM GOD. I AM THE SAVIOR. I AM THE WALRUS. YOU WILL KNOW NO OTHER GOD. KNEEL BEFORE ME. I HAVE KNOWLEDGE OF THE BLESSED ALL. YOU WILL OBEY..." :::cheekeedeek:::
So, Smeeep couldn't wait a week on the Spenseweed. No, these kids these days, they had to have it all--now. So be it. He'd have to get into that fucking transporter, but what a payoff!
Finally, a shore leave! Sonya Gomez sat on her bed to tie her hiking boots. It felt so good to get out of uniform for a change. Why Starfleet made those tight, uncomfortable torture devices was a mystery to all. Some admiral was getting kickbacks from the patent-holder, no doubt.
Anyway, today she didn't have to worry. She wore only a loose t-shirt and some comfy shorts, thick, cushiony socks, and her new hiking boots that had been pre-aged by the replicator. Her backpack was filled with similar garments--at least in the room she had left after Picard had asked her to carry those three stupid bottles of wine. He was going to give them to some female on planet Ba'ku. It figured. Just leave it to the higher-ups to make her suffer.
The thought of Picard and some grounder getting all drunk and horny together wasn't appealing at all for Sonya. She tried to remember the last time she'd had sex--with another being, that is--hazy memories of a night on Argus 6 floated back, but she didn't remember how long it had been. Definitely before the Enterprise--these crewmen always saved themselves for space bimbos and never interacted with each other. Beverly Crusher, for instance, seemed the perfect nun--a nun Sonya would like to debauch! Once Sonya had even taken the holodeck safeties off during a kayak trip, hoping to make it to Sickbay, to lounge on a biobed and stare up at Crusher as the doctor tenderly saw to her wounds.... But, unfortunately, she had remained uninjured. No, all she had was yesterday, when Beverly had inserted the anal transponder, which she needed on Planet Ba'ku. They didn't allow technology or whatever, so nobody could bring communicators or tricorders. Somehow, bending over, bareassed, in front of Beverly hadn't been much of a turn-on that way! Now she was even too shy to go with Beverly on shore leave; she had requested to go to the Ba'ku half of the planet instead. [Forget about it, Sonya. You didn't get to go on the last mission, and Beverly's too high-ranking for you anyway, but at least you'll get to go on shore leave. And you're bound to find *somebody* there!] Oh, sure, Picard hadn't gone to Planet Ho Ri Galz, either, but it was by his own choice. Sonya hadn't been so lucky. After all, *somebody* had had to take care of Engineering after Geordi pulled up sick. And nobody could find Reg, even though the computer had insisted that he was on the ship. Well, duh, if anyone could fool the computer, Reg could. Sonya hadn't bothered to protest; things like that happened all the time, but Picard was too blind with idealism to see them.
Beverly waited in transporter room six, hoping to beam down to planet Ba'ku before Jean-Luc arrived. She couldn't believe he was actually going to spend a week with that skanky bitch, Anij. What a self-righteous, smug, arrogant shit she was! [Quit thinking about *her*, Beverly. You're not even going to that side of the planet.] On the contrary, she was going to "study the surgical techniques of the Son'a"...read "sleep." Ahhhhh, the thought of hours upon hours of uninterrupted slumber! She'd wake up, sit in a hot tub for a while, have a massage, a facial, a manicure and pedicure, eat a gourmet meal, and go back to sleep. If anyone had a baby, a broken arm, or a bad case of Andronesian encephalitis in the middle of the night, she wouldn't have to know.
She turned to see Geordi and Sonya Gomez enter the transporter room. Both were dressed in hiking clothes and lugging substantial backpacks.
"Hello, Geordi, Sonya. You're going to the Ba'ku half of the planet, aren't you?
"Yeah." Geordi nodded.
"Are you looking forward to your leave, Lieutenant?"
"Oh, yes, um, yes, sir, ma'am." Sonya looked flustered for some reason; she was probably excited about seeing the new planet. Beverly remembered when she had been a young officer, full of enthusiasm to seek out new life and new civilizations, be all she could be, all of Starfleet's marketing slogans personified.
"Okay, but you'd be better off going to visit the Son'a with me," she said only half-jokingly. Was she imagining things, or did Sonya bat an eyelash at her? "Why don't you and Mr. LaForge go first; I can tell you're anxious to get started on your leave."
"Transporter coordinates ready, Sir."
"Can't be too soon." Geordi stepped up onto the pads with Sonya. "Ener..."
Suddenly, Geordi collapsed, moaning and clutching his face. "OH, my EYES!"
[So much for shoreleave,] Bev thought ruefully.
In the end, only Gomez and Barclay beamed down with Picard to Ba'ku. The first hints of fall were in the air now, the occasional golden leaf adorned a tree, and the air was slightly chillier than when they had left. The usual planet-scents of foliage and water were mixed here with the tang of wood smoke and the earthy odor of manure. Yes, just as he remembered it.
As Picard hadn't wanted to beam into the middle of the village, they set out on the hike there. Before long, though, they heard footsteps ahead. Anij and Sojef appeared around a bend in the forest path.
"Jean-Luc!" Strangely, Anij seemed disquieted to see him.
"Anij, darling!" He approached her, took her right hand in both of his, kissed it tenderly. "I came back as soon as I could."
"I...see." Anij exuded a peculiarly distant air, drawing her hand back toward herself and surreptitiously wiping it on her tunic. "I had thought that the technological wonders of the galaxy would call you with their siren song of greed and creature comforts. I did not think you would return to us, here on our simple, lowly planet."
If Jean-Luc hadn't known better, he would have thought that Anij was trying the ol' brush-off on him. But he knew Anij's love for him was true. The emotional tension when last he was here, the longing in his soul when he was compelled to beam back to the Enterprise, the constant horniness that had led him to masturbate three times a day -- all were evidence of Anij's devotion.
"I could not stay away, Anij. You know that. I've brought you some gifts -- Chateau Picard '47." Picard gestured to Sonya to remove one of the bottles from her backpack, took it, showed it proudly to Anij. Anij looked curiously at it, as if she didn't know what it was; she thanked him peremptorily. [Hmmm, yes, she's too overwhelmed to be effusive now. Wait until we're alone.] "I'll let my young officer carry them to your hut for you." Sonya saluted him cheerily.
Anij inspected Sonya and Reg. "Will you introduce me to your two charming lla... officers?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Lieutenants Reginald Barclay and Sonya Gomez."
"And this is Sojef." Greetings were exchanged all around. Picard, with his jealous gaze, noticed that Anij spent longer greeting Gomez than was dictated by the bounds of courtesy.
Barclay cleared his throat. "I'm...I'm interested in l-learning about your, er, culture a-and life...style."
"Excellent! One who respects our ways. You may bunk with Sojef." The two men headed off down a fork in the path.
"And you, my young lady?"
"Me? I'm...um...interested in...just learning about your planet and stuff, ya know. I haven't gotten to visit many interesting planets like this before, so I want to learn all about it. If it's not too much trouble."
"No trouble at all, dear," Anij said, closing her in a warm embrace. She pulled back to arms' length away, still holding Sonya's shoulders, and beamed at her. "We have all the time in the world for an eager student such as yourself. Come, you may stay in my hut." Arm in arm, they wandered off down the main path. Picard followed behind; certainly Anij had meant for her invitation to include him as well. He smiled to himself. Nothing like true love to make one forgetful.
After about two minutes, Anij looked back and noticed him. "Oh, Jean-Luc," she called, walking backward. "I forgot to tell you. Fall is a, um...religious holiday on our planet. We practice, er...segregation of the sexes for the next quarter-year. You will have to go back and stay with the men. Just follow the path Sojef took." She turned around, taking Sonya's arm, and continued on her way. Sonya looked back at him, puzzled, but he waved her on, surprised about this new revelation.
Religious holiday? Funny, Anij had never mentioned such a thing before. [I'll have to ask Sojef about this,] he thought as he slowly turned around to retrace his steps.
Like sisters, Sonya and Anij sat in two parallel chairs beside a table of aged wood near the fire. Anij had given Sonya a communal wooden plate stacked high with something called "mikalems"--they seemed somewhat like Earth won-ton--stuffed with real meat and vegetables and served with an extremely spicy red sauce. It had been a long time since Sonya had eaten any real food, and she was enjoying it immensely--the taste, the smell, the texture--the experience was dimensions away from eating replicator fare. 'Fleet chow, she and her friends called it. Nothing like this.
But now the plate was more than half-empty, and the wine supply was somewhat the worse for wear. The sauce was *very* spicy, after all! Sonya just hoped Captain Picard wouldn't mind her sharing in Anij's gift. Oh, who cared? It belonged to Anij now, anyway. And Anij looked *very* impressed. [Have to tell the Captain later how much Anij likes the '47.]
Anij hiccoughed and giggled. "Tell me something, if you would, young Sonya."
"Anything." Feeling pretty good herself, Sonya grinned.
"When I first tried this Earth drink of yours, I thought the taste to be strange. But now I begin to see why you outworlders like it so. Why, it seems to taste more and more pleasant with each glass! And the sense of well-being it provokes in the mind...I admit I had heard legends dealing with wine's effects, but I had never experienced them myself until now. It seems that...that the legends are true."
"Legends? ... Do you need a refill? Me, too." Sonya wobbled the few feet to the table to grab the almost-empty bottle, drained it into their glasses. "What do you mean, legends? Don't you have wine on your world?" Sonya figured all primitive cultures would have alcohol of some kind; fermentation was about the easiest chemical reaction to figure out.
"No, we...oh, I'll go ahead and tell you. We can't make these things on our world. Because of the, uh, properties of our planet."
"You mean you can't make beer or whiskey, either?"
"No. Um, on our planet, things don't ferment. They don't age. So I've heard only legends...well, forget I said anything."
But Sonya wouldn't forget. Not unless she drank a lot more. They both proceeded to the table in unspoken agreement, and Sonya twirled the corkscrew into the last bottle while Anij held it still. This planet was getting weirder all the time, but the hot, loose feeling that the wine brought her made up for any strangeness. She stared intemperantly into Anij's eyes, sparkling in the firelight--and Anij stared back at her, echoing her own heat, as they both drew deeply of the courage that the wine offered.
Somehow the glass wasn't quite where Sonya thought it would be. The side of her hand caught the stem, making the dark liquid slosh over the rim and onto the aged wood of the tabletop. As she pulled back her hand in hazy surprise, the very end of her fingernail got Anij's glass as well, sending the whole thing flying to the floor with a crash of broken glass and a splash; black wine soaked the unfinished floorboards. Anij jumped back merely by reflex; her hand shot out to grab her glass too late and opened, accidentally dropping the wine bottle. It didn't break but merely hit the floor with a hollow gong-strike, gurgling as it lay horizontally and released its inky contents among the glass shards already there. Sonya bent down drunkenly to grab the bottle and rammed headlong into Anij's thigh, knocking them both to the floor with everything else. Two dozen mikalems slid down Sonya's left arm as she fell, bouncing into Anij's lap and leaving Sonya with an empty, vertical plate in her hand. Finally the bowl of sauce plopped upside-down onto Sonya's left breast, as if in encore; it then slid down her armpit, leaving a trail of sauce, and rolled away with a xylophone sound, the last hurrah of her disaster.
Sonya lay still for a moment, in shock; then she jumped to her knees and searched frantically for a napkin to clean up the spill. "I'm so sorry, Anij, I just went to get my glass and..." her eyes met Anij's. Anij was smiling. No, she wasn't just smiling--she was giggling. She broke out into unadulterated laughter. Sonya wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. Anij reached out, squeezed Sonya's upper arm. She seemed to be trying to speak but couldn't.
Sonya, humiliated, tried to pull away. Anij wouldn't let go; gasping for breath between guffaws, she was finally able to speak. "Sonya, Sonya! Don't be sorry!" She gestured to the disaster all around them. "You've added some...interest to my life."
"But that wine's going to stain the floor and the table and..."
"Stop. Don't think about that." Anij's hand moved up to cup Sonya's shoulder; her other hand palmed Sonya's cheek. "Stop right now. Every time I see the floor and the table, I'll remember what happened here tonight. I'll remember you. Pristine floors aren't important."
She held Sonya's gaze, a sober quality in her steely blue eyes, held it until Sonya relented, sighing. And held it longer still. Sonya felt the wine and food and fatigue relax her body further, felt the warmth rise in her, felt the happy buzz of real wine still at work on her attitude. Anij bent forward and kissed her briefly on the lips.
Anij drew back, waiting. Sonya didn't feel violated, didn't feel anything but dazed. And perhaps more, perhaps...stimulated.
Anij bent forward and kissed her again. Harder. Longer.
When they broke contact this time, Sonya had to gasp for breath. Her heart beat faster. She reached out to grab Anij, pulling her close and kissing her agressively on the mouth, letting her tongue dart into Anij's open jaw; then kissing a trail down from her chin back to her throat. She felt Anij's hands on her belly, tugging at the closure of her shorts. Sonya reached for Anij's waist and began to untie her simple Ba'ku trousers. She kissed Anij's throat and licked the feminine hollow of it, breathing in the primitive scent of sweat and lye soap. She began to sweat herself as Anij yanked her shorts down to her knees. Anij's baggy trousers, once untied, just fell off. She wore no panties.
Sonya moaned with the tension that was building in her groin as she pressed Anij down into the pile of broken glass. Her forearm was in the glass; little prickles of pain registered but weren't important. She had been cheated out of Planet Ho Ri Galz, but she wasn't going to be cheated again! She ducked down and stuck her head under Anij's baggy tunic.
Sonya felt strong fingers grabbing her ass cheeks and pulling up--fingers made hard through years of manual labor. But she didn't want to be pulled too high; right now she had her face pressed into Anij's sternum and was looking for those delicious, bouncy breasts. But the pendulous mounds were hanging down to either side. Feeling the glass slice through her arm again, she brought her hands up from underneath and grabbed the soft flesh through Anij's tunic, eliciting a surprised gasp from her partner. Sonya pushed them up and turned her head to the side, finally finding a silky-soft nipple to play upon with her lips.
Anij moaned and let go of Sonya's ass for a moment, but soon seemed to recover and started lifting again. Soon she was using one leg, too; the wiry-haired thigh forced itself between Sonya's knees and began pushing her up, pushing her head out of its pillowy prison and forcing the pacifier out of Sonya's mouth. Finally Sonya popped up out of Anij's untied collar.
Anij wrestled her arms free of her sleeves and bear-hugged Sonya, suddenly rolling them both over. Sonya felt cold wine soak the back of her shirt as Anij kissed her with animal intensity. Anij perfunctorily grabbed Sonya's hand and guided it into the matted nest of hair at her crotch; shortly thereafter, Anij's hand found Sonya's shorn mound.
At first, Sonya found it hard to navigate through the curly maze, but finally she felt skin under everything and began to poke her way further down, dipping back slightly to moisten her finger. As she rubbed, Anij's clit finally started to show itself.
It wasn't easy for her to concentrate, however, because Anij was having a much easier time of it. Ever since Junior Being-Scout camp, Sonya had known that keeping her hair cut short made everything so much more enjoyable.
Sonya continued to work with her hand, gaining energy from Anij's playing upon her. Her mind flashed back to the Enterprise. Everyone was so concerned with work there, so uptight. She hadn't had much action at all since they'd shipped out of Starbase 173, and missing Planet Ho Ri Galz was just the capper. It didn't take the orgasm long to start building within her, faster; she could barely keep her own hand moving on Anij; her eyes clamped shut; she opened her mouth to scream, and that's when.
Time.
Stopped.
.
.
.
Or that's how it seemed, anyway, as the pleasure refused to boil out of her but stayed in and began to superheat. She could only scream, then wail, then moan as the ecstasy stayed at its peak within her, refusing to dissipate. She held her breath until she thought she might die, but then, death might be preferable to this; she wrenched her eyes open to look at Anij, to beg her, beg her to stop; Anij was smiling.
Smiling. Chuckling. Enjoying herself, in her own little world, eyes unfocused. Somehow a thought formed in Sonya's frying brain: Anij was experiencing the same thing. And she liked it. That's how it was done on this planet.
Then, another revelation. Sonya could learn to enjoy it as well.
She let out her breath, gasped. Tried not to hold her breath. Tried to breathe. Gasped again. Fixed her eyes upon Anij's smile and tried to calm herself. Still the pleasure burned within her. "Please...please..." Why did she beg? To stop? To start? To do it again? For more, or for less?
Anij collapsed onto her bosom. Time resumed its progress. Finally the waves of pent-up tension could crash out of her; her hips raised and slammed down to the floor, making repeated ploshy sounds in the wine puddle. Anij's forehead bumped the floor over and over as she finished also.
Reg's mouth felt as if a cat had died inside of it. He struggled to open swollen eyelids, groaning at the glare of sun and the pain he felt everywhere in his body. Austerity was fine for the Ba'ku, sure. Too bad he had to experience it as well.
Reg debated whether to sit up or just to lie still until he eventually died of thirst. The decision was difficult, but presently he decided to sit up. As he did so, every vertebra in turn cried out in protest as it ground against the hard floor, the bite of bone against wood barely softened by skin and a paltry few worn quilts. Lastly, his hipbones punished him with sharp stabs of agony as his weight came to rest on them. Even his feet hurt as he stood, swaying, still half-asleep.
He reached one hand up to massage his stiff neck muscles and reached the other hand down to soothe an equally stiff area. Why, oh why was he horny even when he felt like shit? He shoved both hands into his groin and scratched a small itch behind his balls, although the itch got worse every time he scratched. Finally it seemed to abate. He grabbed some wrinkled clothes out of his backpack and slowly dressed, cursing planet Ba'ku with each motion. He then went downstairs to find food.
"Ah, good...afternoon, my Starfleet friend! You're just in time for lunch," said Sojef brightly from the kitchen. Why that damned Sojef was always so cheery, Reg would never know. [And always insinuating I'm lazy, too, just because I don't like to get up in the middle of the night like he does. Blast it; this shore leave is *not* going as I'd planned.]
Reg sat heavily at the table, cursing inwardly at the hard wooden seat. "Oh, you know what they say, Sojef. 'Time flies when you're having fun.'"
"Indeed," mused Sojef. "We do not have that cliche on my planet."
"Interesting." Reg had to get some productive information out of Sojef soon; he had been here for three days so far without any luck. "'Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future.' 'Time keeps flowin' like a river to the sea.'" Reg sighed in mock wonder. "But what, really, *is* time, anyway? Is it actually as important as we are led to believe? It's said, 'Time is like a hunter, stalking us. Oh, we can try to defeat it with doctors and medicines, but someday time will hunt us down and kill us.' Ahhh, time! We know so little and have so much to ponder."
"Indeed." Sojef slapped before him a wooden plate laden with strange, blue eggs, a hefty chunk of real dead-animal meat, and a dollop of some oatmeal-like substance. An earthen cup of rusty water soon followed, right before Sojef's hasty exit from the kitchen. Reg was starting to think Sojef didn't want to talk with him!
[Bastard. What have I done to deserve such treatment?] Reg thought as he studied the food. More of the same. Actually, though, it didn't taste that bad, if a person was hungry. And Reg *was* hungry, so he ate it. Still, a little more hospitality out of these assholes wouldn't hurt.
Reg had just pushed away from the table, leaving his dirty dishes, when Sojef appeared in the kitchen doorway again.
"I know that you are curious about the mysteries of our world."
[Finally, the dimwitted prick gets the point!] Reg looked toward him expectantly. [The idiot *has* to give me my lesson now. I deserve it.]
"To learn about our world, it is necessary to be one with our world."
[Whatever. Just teach me the time trick, and I'll go be one with anything you want.]
"To be one with our world, you need to journey to Ko-Ra-No. It is in the mountains."
A Ba'ku boy appeared in the doorway. "The animal is ready, Sojef."
"What?" Reg was starting to get annoyed now. Why couldn't these obtuse fools just give him what he wanted?
"Rise, sir, and begin your journey. Enlightenment awaits."
Out of shock, curiosity, who-knows-what, Reg got up and followed Sojef outside.
A llama carrying a voluminous pack awaited him in the front yard. Sojef took a map from the boy and handed it to Reg, who took it, dumbfounded. The llama gave Reg a dirty look; he thought it might spit on him. Luckily it didn't. "Uhhh, Sojef...what the f...what is this?"
"I thought I had made myself clear enough for even an outworlder to understand." [Ouch!] "You are to proceed to Ko-Ra-No, as this map indicates. There, you may find enlightenment, if you be sincere in your attempt to learn. There, you may be one with our world, if you be pure of heart."
What a bunch of targshit! Obviously, it was Sojef's way of telling him he wasn't wanted anymore. Still, anyplace would be better than here. Maybe the dolts in Ra-Kn-Rol or whatever would be more cooperative. "Oh, of course. I'm dreadfully sorry for the misunderstanding, Sojef. I'll just...um...be on my way...um...how do you ride this thing, anyway?" Reg walked around the beast, looking for the best place to fit on its back, not finding much room beside all the junk.
The little boy snickered; Sojef shushed him. "You do not ride the beast, Reginald. It is a pack animal. You must walk."
"Shit!"
Ahhhhh, nature! Wait, who was he kidding? Nature sucked. It sucked just as bad as everything else on this wobegone planet, stuck in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to recommend it save the Son'a trading post in the other hemisphere. And here he stood, right in the exact center. Of nowhere.
Still, Reg had to admit, the view here was nice. Mainly because it was a view of the Ba'ku village--from several kilometers away.
He wiped sweat from his brow. Why did he feel so feverish? Oh, it was probably just from the exertion; might as well take a rest break. He felt slightly dizzy, also--probably the altitude. The air on this planet was 2% thinner than Earth air, too.
In fact, this might be a good place to set up camp for the night, if he could figure it out. He fiddled with the straps on the llama; the animal shied when everything slid to one side and half the stuff spilled out of the pack. Ehh, close enough. He eventually managed to unbuckle the whole contraption.
It took several hours for Reg to set up the tent. That's when he noticed that there was nothing nearby to tie the llama to, so he just took off its lead rope, reasoning that it would stay where the food was. Oh, yeah, food. The llama had noticed a spilled pack of grain and was going for it, head down, ass facing him. Reg felt an itch in his groin again and stopped to scratch.
All this scratching and rubbing was getting him horny yet again. Drat! Why was it always like this when there was no opportunity to...no opportunity...the llama was concentrating on its feed. A girl llama, he noticed. Just a little fluffy tail back there to get out of the way, and...
[What, are you insane, Reg? Yes. Yes, I am.]
Before he had time to change his mind, Reg went to stand behind the beast. Whipping out his hard, aching cock, he probed in among the flesh of the llama's backside, searching for the wet folds he knew must be there. The animal grunted in surprise but soon went back to its meal. He chanced a look under the fluffy tail; didn't want to accidentally find the asshole. The thing might kick him. Hell, it might kick him anyway, who knew? But it felt too soothing right now to stop. He felt wet, slippery flesh against the head of his cock, and soon he found a hot place to sink in.
The llama turned her head to look at him. He held stock-still for a few seconds, but soon she ignored him again and continued to eat. His cock was soon lost in her commodious channel--she must hardly notice him; male llamas were probably much more well-hung than humans. He wound his fingers in her soft fur and laid his head on her fuzzy behind. "Oh, baby," he moaned. "Oh, baby, it's papa. It's papa." Her body temperature was warm enough to heat even his fevered flesh. Although he didn't feel a tightening around him in the voluminous innards, he had fun plunging in at varying angles. Almost before he noticed it, he was coming. His fingers clutched at the llama's fur; this she didn't like, for she finally skittered away from him, leaving him dripping the last bits of semen into the cold mountain air.
Now, all of a sudden, Reg started to shiver. He couldn't stop; he felt chilled straight through. No use even trying to light a fire the old Ba'ku way; he hadn't gathered any firewood anyway. He found a few quilts in the pack and made his way into the tent, where he dropped immediately into a miserable sleep.
"Najnif? Najnif! Is that you?" Sonya yawned and opened her eyes, realizing that Anij was no longer nestled with her in the pile of quilts. It was Anij's voice outside the window, though. Slowly she roused herself from the nest and poked her head outside.
"Najnif! Where did you come from?" Sonya saw Anij outside, wearing only a flimsy, transparent robe, running toward...a llama.
"Why is Mommy's wittle llama-wama running around loosey-woosey?" she cooed to the beast. Anij gave the animal a big kiss on its neck, and Sonya found herself just a bit jealous of Anij's affections. She wanted Anij's kiss on *her* neck instead! "I *knew* Sojef wouldn't take care of hersums righty-wighty! I *knew* him wouldn't!"
Sonya's thoughts drifted back to the night before...
The time-stop had been the biggest yet--couldn't really say "longest," because these stops transcended time--and she had handled it. She had been able to think even as the pleasure seemed to burn her flesh. And next time, Anij said, next time, she should try doing it herself. Just concentrate, she said, concentrate on the moment. Being caught up in passion, in the moment, would make everything much easier than just stopping time during normal workaday life. Next time, she could try it.
Sonya decided that the best thing to do would be to build up the fire and make Anij want to come back inside.
Barefoot, Sonya picked her way carefully to the barn, where Anij was still fussing over Najnif. "What happened to hersy-wersy? Hersums looks saddy-waddy! Awwww!" Anij brushed Najnif's coat tenderly and bent down to check her hooves. Then, apparently satisfied that Najnif was all right for the present, Anij looked up from her work. "Oh, hello, Sonya. I don't know *where* Najnif has been, but she just doesn't look right. I'm a bit worried about her."
Sonya couldn't see anything wrong with Najnif. "I've built up the fire in the hut, Anij. Why don't you come in where it's warm?"
Anij looked to her, beaming. "Oh, Sonya, you're so thoughtful! And you're right. It would be better to bring Najnif into the hut where she could be warm and cozy!"
"Well...." Sonya had no choice but to follow as Anij led the animal into the hut.
Sonya was not thinking of the llama. She wasn't thinking much of anything, in fact, as her mouth consumed Anij's musky cleft and sucked of the salty liqueur within. Her arms, wrapped around Anij's thighs, were burning from the fire's heat. They had lain only inches from the hearth--sharing a hut with a llama led to some crowding--but the heat in her skin couldn't compete with the heat in her own clit as Anij sucked it hard.
Sonya felt Anij stretch taut under her ministrations; her cunt tightened around Sonya's tongue. Simultaneously, she felt herself starting to climax. But she couldn't let herself become lost; she concentrated on Anij, on Anij's serenity, on Anij's power to stop time. Stop, stop...she was coming. Time...slowed....
Sonya lost it. Her ecstasy seemed to rip into the fabric of time, accelerating it back to normal. Her arm spasmed in abandon and hit something...Anij shrieked.
But not in pleasure. This was different. The shriek tore all feeling away from Sonya and left her mind dead to the repeating orgasm in her loins. Hurriedly, she sat up. Anij was holding her own wrist.
"Ouch!" Anij removed her hand to examine the area.
"What happened, Anij?" Just then Sonya saw a twig on the floor, burning at one end. She hastily threw it back into the fire. "Did I...?"
Sonya was horrified. She must have knocked her arm against the stick, burning Anij in the process! Oh, no, what would she do without Sickbay?
Anij was flexing her wrist experimentally. "I don't think it's a serious burn; it's just a bit pink. Don't worry yourself about it, Sonya."
Sonya examined the burn. Anij was right; it was nothing serious. What a relief!
Finally, Sonya was calm enough to notice snorting and scuffling not far away. All of the commotion had upset the llama. Anij was up in an instant, petting it.
"It's okay, Najnif-wajnif. Mommy okay. Okay?" Najnif seemed to forgive her, as it licked her hand and forearm good-naturedly. Anij patted it on the head and came back to Sonya. "Now. Let's get a little bit more practice on that time-stop, shall we? I think you almost had it that time...."
Pain lanced through his skull. By accident, he opened his eyes. He shut them again immediately, but the intense white light had already left a purple glow across his retinas. He moaned.
"Where am I?" Reg thought for a moment that he might be dead, that the legends great-Grandma had told him were true after all, and that he'd be going to hell soon.
"You are in Sickbay, Lieutenant." The harsh tones of Dr. Selar's voice assaulted his hearing. Well, at least it wasn't Judgement Day just yet. "When you have recovered sufficiently, you will be transferred to the brig, where you will remain until we dock at Starbase 222, at which time you will be transferred to the stockade."
[Oops.] "What...?" His temples throbbed with pain. He tried to raise his hands to rub them but found that he couldn't--they were restrained by a force field. [Ohhhhh, shit.]
"Commander Riker has discovered that you were absent without leave during the mission to Planet Ho Ri Galz. Seeking further information, he then discovered evidence of several other transgressions on your part. I will leave it to the relevant personnel to explain additional charges.
"But I...." [Oooo, if it was that Data, I'll take him apart myself! But it can't be him; he wouldn't risk losing that chip. So who...?]
"You will notice also that you have been ill. You are suffering from the aftereffects of Thalusian Syphillis. We have removed the infection; you will, however, continue to feel ill for several days."
Time to beam out. Sonya waited in Anij's front yard for the tingle of the transporter beam. Any minute now..."Goodbye, Anij. I hope I can visit here again." Maybe she'd even perfect the time-stop someday. Anij had told her it would work only on planet Ba'ku, so she couldn't practice. She had been pretty close in the past few days, though.
"I look forward to seeing you, dear." Anij stifled a cough. She looked slightly wan; Sonya figured it was just a minor infection. It *had* to be. The Ba'ku had only the most remedial medical science--splints, herbs, mineral baths.
"Are you sure you don't want to come back to the ship, to let Dr. Crusher examine you?"
"No, child. That would involve technology. And I refuse to do such a thing."
Sonya felt the first signs of transport, and soon she was back on the Enterprise.
Right next to Captain Picard.
A steaming-mad Captain Picard.
Wearing only a leather harness and shorts. Sporting a wide, shiny blue ribbon like a collar around his neck, a big bow to one side.
Commander Riker crossed the room to them, looking in shock at the captain's appearance.
"Commander! Ooooooo, I could shoot those Ba'ku! Ohhhhh, the *indignity!* You would not *believe* what they made me do!"
"Well, I don't know, Captain, but it looks like you won first prize!"
Epilogue
Reg Barclay recovered and was sent to the stockade, where he served five years hard labor mining borite.
Sonya Gomez also recovered, with medical assistance, and suffered only some embarrassment.
Ensign Smeeep won immunity from all charges for testifying against Barclay. He now runs the Happy Plant Ranch on Theta III.
Najnif suffered only a minor illness. Llamas apparently have a natural resistance to Thalusian Syphillis.
Anij died. That's what she gets for being the most crummy character in a stupid movie that I paid good money to see.
END