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Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, not mine! Rating: Nc-17 Codes: J/C Summary: Set in a/u where Commander Janeway’s fiancé, Mark Johnson, is an agent with Starfleet Intelligence. Prologue: The earpiece buzzed into life and a harsh, authoritative voice issued a thinly veiled warning. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you how important this is, Commander.” A second voice carefully interjected. Soft and melodious, it was deceptively persuasive. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we’ve got you covered. Anytime you’re uncomfortable … just say the word.” Two blocks down from the stationary hover-vehicle, an attractive redhead whispered a throaty acknowledgement. * Kathryn Janeway entered the seedy bar; it was a busy night. She paused as her senses were invaded. A wall of stale tobacco smoke made it difficult for her to see, the heavy booming music assaulted her ears and the sickly odour generated by the sweating, drunken clubbers invaded her nostrils. She ruffled the loose mane of hair that draped along one shoulder, smoothed the tight red dress over her hips and tilting her chin, she pushed her way through the patrons. “Come on, old man, it’s your round,” hollered the half-Klingon across the table. Chakotay flashed her an insincere smile. “Hoping Paris will look better drunk?” His drinking companion growled dangerously. “There’s not enough Romulan ale in the quadrant to make that P’tak look appealing!” The crowd at their table roared with laughter, whilst a blonde man shrugged. “Your loss, Torres.” “I’d rather screw Alaya,” she snarled, grabbing a tall dark man and kissing him fiercely, her hands grasping his crotch. Chakotay laughed and waved for more drinks. Janeway scanned the crowd, looking for the face of the man she’d been ordered to ensnare - by any means possible. According to Starfleet Intelligence, this was his usual haunt; a tawdry, cheap bar where pretty girls danced virtually naked and anything could be obtained with the right amount of latinum. Kathryn’s flesh crawled as a drunken alien pawed her buttocks, slurring lewd comments and waving a credit chip. Shrugging him off, she headed for the far corner and the group of leather-clad Maquis. Chakotay swallowed more of the bitter ale and appraised the charms of a scantily clothed woman contorting around a vertical pole. “Tonight’s conquest?” asked Paris. “Maybe,” Chakotay answered, continuing to look around. “Then again, maybe not,” he added, eyeing up the sauntering form of Kathryn Janeway. Kathryn instantly recognised the Maquis leader, easily identifying him by the sweeping black lines of his tribal tattoo. Her breath caught. This was it. Paris followed his Captain’s gaze. “Very nice, Chakotay,” he drawled, “but I think more my type …” “You wouldn’t know what to do with her!” Chakotay shot back. “Oh, I’ve a few ideas,” Paris leered, rubbing his crotch. Chakotay caught her eye. “Too bad she’s taken.” Kathryn's heart was pounding as she arranged her body provocatively against a steel pillar. She thrust her chest out and smiled seductively as she slid her palm along a shapely thigh, raising the short hemline of her dress a little higher. Chakotay eyed her pink tongue as it slipped out to moisten her ruby red lips. He rose quickly from the barstool. “Catch you guys later.” She watched him approach, noting the way his dark eyes roamed freely over her body. Part of her wanted to leave, wanted to flee to the safety of home, take off the flimsy dress and underwear and scrub away the sluttish make-up. Judging from his heated gaze, the Maquis Captain had similar thoughts regarding the removal of her clothing. Kathryn forced her mind to concentrate, pushing aside the nagging voice that wondered what kind of man volunteers his fiancé for such a mission. She hoped to God, Starfleet Intelligence were right about what floated this Chakotay guy’s boat. She could still hear Admiral Hayes’ voice; ‘He likes to watch, Janeway, nothing else. All you’ve gotta do is dance for him, privately.’ At the time, she had wanted to laugh in the Admiral’s arrogant face. The only dancing she knew was ballet and somehow she didn’t think the Maquis leader got off on The Dying Swan routine. “Hello.” His voice was warm and soft, not at all what she was expecting. “Hello, yourself,” Kathryn answered, in what she hoped was a sexy purr. Chakotay stared at the woman before him. She seemed uncomfortable, on edge. “Are you new here?” he asked. “Yes … my … first night,” she answered. That was okay; he had chosen ‘virgins’ before. “Lets go somewhere private,” he suggested, pointing to a row of black doorways. Janeway nodded and allowed him guide her across the room. His palm was hot in the small of her back and she was surprised to find herself trembling from the contact. Offering another prayer, she stepped into the dingy side room. Chakotay closed the door behind them and Kathryn took a brief moment to look around. The room was scarcely furnished with one solitary chair and a wooden table. A power strip in the ceiling had burnt out; scorching the yellowed panel it was set in. The entire setting was sordid and sleazy. Chakotay sat on the chair and took a swig from his bottle. “Dance for me,” he gestured, lazily. ‘Oh God, I can’t do this!’ her mind screamed. He looked at her. “I said, dance for me.” “I … there’s no music …” she offered, lamely. Chakotay laughed. “What? You’re asking me to sing for you?” “No … no … its just …” she sighed in frustration and blinked fiercely, “I thought there’d be music …” “If you’re unable to entertain me, I can find another who will,” he said, moving towards the door. Simultaneously in her earpiece, she heard two sharp intakes of breath. Janeway panicked. “I’m fine … please … stay …” Hiding his smirk, Chakotay once again sat down and waited for his show to begin. Kathryn felt the blush covering her cheeks as she started swaying to the tune she brokenly hummed. Closing her eyes, she tried to gain a rhythm. “Sexily,” he instructed. “Dance sexily.” Gulping hard, she tried to wiggle and gyrate, feeling anything but sexy. Chakotay watched her with a neutral expression on his bronzed face and took another gulp of ale. In her mind, she pretended that it was Mark watching her, that her dancing was an erotic prequel to making love. Holding on to the fantasy, her movements became more fluid and relaxed. Her hands began moving. Chakotay followed the path her palms took as they skimmed lightly up and down her body. The hemline of her dress rose with every stroke and he stared openly the flesh it revealed. She had good legs, smooth and shapely. “Take off the dress,” he whispered. Her eyes flashed open and he was drawn into their deep blue gaze. “What?” “Take off the dress,” he repeated. Kathryn bit her lip and fumbled with the side zipper. No one had warned her about stripping in front of this guy. Taking her time, she slowly eased the red creation from her body and over her hips. It pooled at her feet and once more she closed her eyes. Chakotay hardened at the sight before him. She was stunning, and every inch perfectly dotted with sun-kissed freckles. His gaze dropped instantly to the soft heaving mounds trapped within a sheer black bra. They were full and round with deliciously dark aureoles that called to his lips. He longed to untie the thin ribbon in the middle of the tacky garment and release them. Lower still, matching scarlet ribbons dangled enticingly from her slim hips, barely securing her panties. He wanted to rake his fingers through the springy curls that nestled against the flimsy fabric. Kathryn, eyes still closed and oblivious to his thoughts, continued to dance for him murmuring a different tune. She jumped as he took her wrists and pulled her nearer. Determined to avoid straddling his lap, she rose up onto tiptoes. Fear clouded her eyes. “A little bit more,” he whispered. Motioning for her to remove the skimpy bra. Kathryn froze. “I thought …” “What did you think?” he asked, letting his fingers skim along her ribs. She flinched. “Just dancing …” Chakotay’s large hands circled her waist and manipulated her stiff body, forcing it to slowly gyrate. “There are many different dances.” Again his eyes conveyed his silent instruction. Taking a shuddering breath, Kathryn slowly loosened the pretty bow and felt her breasts jiggle free. The material snagged on her nipples. “More,” he urged. “Isn’t this enough?” she whispered, hoping her fiancé and his boss were listening. Chakotay’s breath was hot on her bare skin. “No, not nearly enough.” The earpiece crackled again. “Keep him there longer, Janeway,” it hissed. “A few more minutes darling … for me …” ‘For you, for you and your damned promotion!’ she wanted to cry. She didn’t cry. Instead, she peeled away the straps from her shoulders and allowed the bra to fall to the floor. Her arms crossed. “Don’t be shy,” Chakotay he told her, easing her arms away. “You’ve nothing to be shy of.” Janeway expected him to fondle or grope her. She was taken by surprise when he brought her palms up to cup her own flesh and gently squeezed. It was then she realised he wanted another show. Defiance rose in her, along with anger. Those sons of bitches at Starfleet Intelligence had whored her out and Mark had become her pimp! Were they all jerking off in that damn hover-vehicle? 'Fine, if they want a show, that’s what they’ll get!' With sure caresses, Kathryn teased and tormented her breasts, making them swell and ache. Throwing her head back, she groaned as her fingers flicked and pinched the stiffening nipples, pulling them into rigid peaks. There was something terribly exciting about the situation for Kathryn. Good Starfleet officers don’t play with their breasts in front of dangerous terrorists. Neither do they gasp and keen, with tender white-glowing nipples rudely poking out, begging to be sucked. Caught in her own fantasy, her hips bucked and she smelt the musky scent of her own arousal. Chakotay watched her twisting and tugging and his cock throbbed inside his leather pants. Her whimpers were driving him wild, such an erotic mix of pleasure and pain. Consumed by lust, he made quick work of the bows on her panties. Kathryn gave a sudden croaky “Oh,” as Chakotay ran a probing finger along her pussy lips. She arched backwards, unsure whether she was trying to get away, or inviting more of his touch. He grinned, flashing a set of deep dimples and beautiful white teeth. “So hot,” he whispered, plunging two fat digits inside. The sudden intrusion made her yelp and wriggle. Taking no notice, Chakotay twisted them and pulled her closer, putting pressure on her G-spot. “Oh God!” He parted his knees, using them to spread her thighs wider and fingered her roughly, grunting as her tight pussy rippled in protest. She was clutching at the leather vest he wore as her body trembled. A fine line of perspiration formed on her abdomen and he traced it with his tongue, before latching onto a breast and sucking hard. Kathryn bucked and clawed, hissing through clenched teeth, fighting back the orgasm that threatened to shatter her. “I wish there was more time,” he groaned, jerking his fingers from her and standing. “No …” Kathryn gave a disappointed moan that quickly turned into a squeak as she was pushed back onto the table. “Oh, I’m not leaving just yet,” he promised, yanking open his flies and releasing his hard erection. Kathryn viewed him through misty eyes and her pupils grew larger. He was thick and mouth-wateringly long. Instinctively, her legs parted. Chakotay paused to admire the sight of her lying on the table, naked and glistening, toying with a sore-looking nipple. “Sexy bitch …” he grunted, gripping her hips tightly and plunging inside with a powerful thrust. She gave a breathy groan. “Oh, God, yes …” His lips swallowed her murmurs, hungrily devouring them as his cock plundered her tight, warm pussy. His taut sacs slapped against her buttocks, over and over and harder and faster. The wooden table creaked a loud protest at the bodies banging ferociously on its worn surface. Kathryn tore her lips from Chakotay’s and let out a strangled low cry. Her climax was enough to trigger his own and Chakotay burrowed his face into the thick mane of her hair, as his seed flooded her womb and trickled out to soak her curls. Exhausted and completely sated, Kathryn laid panting, arms lolling out from her body. Chakotay raised his head for another kiss, languidly duelling with her tongue for a moment before oxygen forced them apart. He gazed at her flushed face and smiled tenderly, before dipping his mouth next to her ear. “You shouldn’t let him use you, Kathryn. You deserve better.” She started, trying to sit up as she fought to cover her naked body. “You …” He silenced her with his fingers then brought his mouth around to the ear that concealed the listening device. “You’re one despicable bastard, Johnson,” he hissed. “What makes you think you’re man enough to beat me? You never could at the Academy. Give up, you’ll never capture me, your girlfriend might, but you won’t.” Kathryn heard the panicked yell of Admiral Hayes ordering the teams outside to storm the bar. “Go,” she mouthed. “Come with me.” She shook her head. “I can’t.” He pressed a small flat disc into her hand. “If you change your mind …” his soft explanation tailed off, and she gave a nod of understanding. Chakotay tapped a code into an electronic strap on his wrist. “I have to leave. I hope this isn’t goodbye, Kathryn.” “Me too,” she whispered, watching the blue light encompass his body. The whine of the transport faded just as Mark Johnson and four other men stormed in the room. Seeing her lack of dress, Mark ordered the men to wait outside. “What happened? You were meant to arrest him, not screw him! God damnit, Kathryn, what do you reckon my chances of promotion are after this fiasco? Admiral Hayes is gonna chew my butt!” “You know what, Mark?” she blazed, tugging the dress over her head. “I don’t give a shit! You and that stuffy windbag told me that man was a monster, a ‘dark and dangerous animal’, I think were your exact words. Well, if that’s true, what the hell does that make you? You put me in this position, Mark, I didn’t like the idea of it, but I did it – for you! And guess what? I actually enjoyed it. I don’t think I’ve ever climaxed so hard in my life! And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.” Raising her chin, she stormed out, underwear clutched in one hand and the data chip in the other. Whatever the fallout, Kathryn knew one thing; she’d never betray Chakotay by revealing its existence. The End Feedback? Pretty Please?! Return to Main Adult Index |
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