BEST VOYAGER BASED STORY, ROUND VII
Title: DoubleKat
Author: Ventura33 ( meg@ventura33.com )
Series: VOY
Pairing Code: Captain Janeway/Admiral Janeway (from Endgame)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two Janeways. One bedroom. Total smut. No redeeming social value whatsoever. Enjoy.
Web page: www.ventura33.com
Disclaimer: As much as Kate Mulgrew and Paramount tried to keep Janeway a decent, wholesome character, we fanfic writers know better.
by Ventura33 (August 2002)
Although being lost in the Delta Quadrant wasn't particularly conducive to good days, Captain Kathryn Janeway was certain she had seen better ones. She could surely have done without an older version of herself, whose sanity was questionable, showing up with a bizarre scheme that would supposedly save the ship -- if it didn't get the entire crew assimilated by the Borg first. And then, on top of that, finding out about Chakotay's sleazy love affair with Seven of Nine. Well, okay, not everyone could be satisfied with holo-sex, and her first officer couldn't reasonably be expected to stay celibate, but Seven??
The captain poured herself another glass of Irish whiskey -- none of that synthohol swill -- and drank it down, craving the familiar warmth of it. Drinking alone in her bedroom might not be the healthiest habit, but at least she didn't have to listen to Michael Sullivan telling her she'd had enough. Sentient holograms be damned. The only reasons she'd programmed an attractive bartender into Fair Haven were, simply enough, so that she could get laid and get drunk, not necessarily in that order. Although giving Michael a caring, sensitive personality had seemed like a good idea at the time, she'd had more than enough of his fussing over her like a mother hen.
Well, there was always the tried and true. She opened the drawer where she kept her sex toys, which had by now grown into a sprawling collection that threatened to spill out all over the carpet. She deliberated over which one to choose as she undressed.
"I'd pick the double-ridged blue one," a familiar voice commented from the bedroom doorway. "It was one of my favorites for many years."
"What the hell are you doing in here?" The captain, naked and furious, turned around and gave the death glare to a smug Admiral Janeway, who didn't seem bothered by it in the least. "And how did you get in, anyway?"
"As to the latter, I'm you, remember? So getting into your quarters wasn't a problem. And as for what I'm doing here, I'd say that's obvious." The admiral glanced pointedly toward the dildo drawer. "Considering all the time you spend having sex with yourself already, I thought you might want to try another variation on that theme."
Her face hot with embarrassment, the captain slammed the drawer shut. This was by far the craziest proposition she'd ever heard. "Get out of my quarters this instant, or I'm going to call Security."
"That's your prerogative, of course," her older self acknowledged in a calm tone, "but being found in such a compromising situation just might give rise to some unpleasant gossip, and I know how concerned you are about preserving your dignified image."
And then the admiral started to strip off her clothes, revealing a body that, although not entirely free of wrinkles, was in reasonably good shape for a woman of her age.
"You're so goddamned arrogant. I told you, I'm not at all interested. Don't you know how to take no for an answer?"
The admiral smirked. "No more than you do." She reached down into the pile of clothes at her feet, took a data chip from a pocket, and inserted it into the captain's replicator. An instant later, a double dildo, of impressive proportions, materialized.
"It's based on Chakotay's -- ah -- rather substantial dimensions," the admiral remarked, picking up the toy. "Let's just say that my sex life hasn't been as sadly deprived as yours. I enjoyed several delightful threesomes with Chakotay and Seven . . . but you wouldn't be interested in hearing about that either, would you, my poor lonely captain."
"No, damn it, I wouldn't! Now get out of here!"
"You can't tell me you've never fantasized about what it would be like to have Chakotay inside you." The admiral stroked her thumb over one end of the dildo. "Well, it was every bit as good as you thought. And I know exactly how you've imagined Seven's tongue sliding across every part of your body, and all the ways you like to be touched, and just how hot it's making you, right now, to hear me talk about it."
The captain reached for the whiskey and, not bothering to pour it into her glass, took a deep swig directly from the bottle.
"You don't know jack."
"I think you've had more than enough." The admiral deftly plucked the bottle out of her younger counterpart's hand and put it into the replicator, where it shimmered and disappeared.
"Fuck you."
"I'll take that as an invitation." Opening the sex toy drawer once more, the admiral picked up and examined several small jars of lubricant in turn. "Hmm, vanilla. And Betazoid passion berry. But I think I'll go with our all-time favorite flavor, mocha chocolate. Look how well it matches the color of the dildo."
The captain shook her head in disbelief. What the hell was this supposed to be anyway, lesbian interior decorating? She looked at the thing again.
"Chakotay isn't that dark."
"When I took the, ah, measurements, we'd just spent a few weeks tanning, in the nude, on a pleasant tropical planet where Voyager had stopped to replenish food supplies. I assure you, this is an accurate reproduction in every way."
"No wonder it took you so many years to get Voyager back to Earth, with all those diversions along the way."
"Maybe so, but they were considerably healthier than your pathetic little diversions, Kathryn my dear." The admiral put the dildo down on the nightstand, dipped two fingers into the jar of mocha chocolate lubricant and, without further ado, sat down on the bed and started playing with herself.
With her other hand, the admiral held out the jar invitingly toward her counterpart. "Come on, you know you want to. If you really weren't interested, you'd have put your clothes back on by now."
The captain, who couldn't dispute the fact that she was still naked as the proverbial jaybird, considered that observation for a moment. Of course, she'd had sex with women before; in the uninhibited 24th century, bisexuality was no big deal. And she'd done it with aliens, some of whom had very peculiar anatomy, but even that wasn't as squicky as the idea of getting intimate with her own mirror image.
Although she had to admit that watching her counterpart slide those two well-lubricated fingers into the depths of a glistening, clean-shaven pussy was sort of, kind of, just a little bit, starting to make her feel horny. Well, all right, to be honest -- more than just a little bit.
"And I'm not under your command," the admiral went on, "so all of your sad, tired excuses to keep yourself isolated from anything that resembles normal human affection, for the sake of maintaining the ship's discipline and morale, aren't going to work with me."
Discipline and morale obviously hadn't been among her doppelganger's highest priorities, the captain thought, as she glanced toward the gigantic dildo once more. It was just as obvious what sort of priorities the other Kathryn Janeway had.
"And what's more," her counterpart proclaimed, somewhat creepily anticipating the captain's thoughts, "Voyager didn't fall apart when I screwed Chakotay. Or when I told Seven how I felt about her. Or when I started to touch her, just like this."
The admiral reached forward and touched the younger Janeway's crotch, which proved to be sufficiently wet and receptive to those probing fingers so that it wasn't possible any longer, if it had ever been possible, to go on pretending not to be interested.
"Then I told Seven to lie down on my bed, this bed, right here," the admiral's husky voice continued, as she guided her younger self to just the right spot on the bed. "And I showed her what a woman's love was like. I know you've imagined Seven as having a metallic taste, but she didn't, not really. The taste was kind of tangy and sweet at the same time, almost like lemon. Pink lemonade, in the summer sun, that was how I thought of her."
At that point, the admiral stopped talking as her tongue found something else to do -- and did it very well, too, leaving the object of her skillful ministrations whimpering in helpless delight. There was definitely something to be said for having sex with one's mirror image, who was familiar with every little quirk and knew exactly how to go about doing it with maximum effectiveness.
Just as the captain was on the brink of climax, however, her counterpart turned away, reaching toward the nightstand. But there wasn't much time to get frustrated about it before the huge brown dildo, coated with gobs of the perfectly matched lubricant, became the star of the show. Although it looked as if the thing might be just too enormous to fit, by now the captain was so wet and open that the dildo slid inside her without difficulty, almost up to its halfway point.
"The first time I did it with Chakotay, he got on top, just as I am now," the admiral declared, straddling the dildo and lowering her body onto it until the slick lips of her pussy almost touched the captain's, with just a bit of the dildo still visible between them. "Then he fucked me. Hard. Until I screamed. And Seven sucked on my tittles the whole time."
In illustration of her narrative, the admiral pinched the younger Janeway's nipples as she worked the dildo, which was tightly clasped between her legs, up and down in a pounding, merciless rhythm. The captain felt her body convulsing in a sudden, intense response and realized that the sound she heard was her own scream echoing through the room. Her double responded with a guttural cry of triumph as she also seemed to reach a climax.
But afterward, it didn't come as much of a surprise when the older woman, without so much as a word, got up from the bed and started to dress. Even the captain's own mirror image had better things to do, it seemed, than to spend the night with her. The captain looked away, toward the blank wall that somehow seemed to mock her, and told herself -- as she'd grown all too accustomed to doing -- that it didn't matter anyway. After all, she was used to being alone.
"Kathryn."
The captain turned her head once again, toward the voice. Her counterpart was standing in the doorway.
"Kat," the admiral said, in a voice deep and resonant with unexpected sympathy, "live a little."
Then, with a sigh, as if knowing that her advice wouldn't be taken, she walked out of the room, leaving the captain with solitary dreams of pink lemonade in the summer sun.
THE END