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Rating: NC-17 Codes: J/C, not nice … warning, contains descriptions of sexual abuse They never knew, never guessed and for that I’m grateful. Three months stranded alone with some kind of primate ... and some kind of animal. Perhaps it was my fault; at least that’s what he said. Said I was too much for him to resist, too sexy, too hot. Too tight as he pounded into me, grunting and sweating and telling me what a great fuck I was. Too weak to defend myself, as I gave into his repeated attacks … sorry, sexual advances. Oh God he really did a job on me. That bastard raped me and yet somehow convinced me that it was passionate, rough lovemaking; that my screams were cries of ecstasy. He hurt me, betrayed me. The first time, he told me it was because he couldn’t help himself, that the sight of me standing wearing only a bath towel was ... He’d torn it from me, ignoring my pleads as his teeth marked my skin and latched onto my breasts. Such pain rushed through me as he ravished and bit my nipples. He grinned, a leer that dripped with my blood and I howled from the agony he inflicted. His tongue invaded my mouth, forcing me to share the coppery taste of my abused breasts. I struggled and he laughed, showering me with crimson spittle, panting how beautiful I was whilst he crudely opened my thighs with his knees. I was no virgin, but the white-hot pain that accompanied his first violating thrust almost killed me. Tears stung my face and my nails tore chunks from his back … later he took that as proof of my enjoyment. Over and over and over, pulling out then pushing back, in and out, every stroke dry and painful. “So tight baby,” he rasped. I prayed that his fevered attack would be short; that the disgusting names he called me would hasten his release and ease my raw cervix. “I’m fucking your cunt and you love it!” he sneered, his testicles slapping hard against my buttocks as he pulled my legs higher. I yelped and begged, squirming, desperate to get away … and the reality was, I had no place to go, no place to hide. Trapped with a madman on an uninhabited planet. That first time he tried to make me climax, fingering my clitoris and making me sore in his attempts. “Together, Kathryn,” he urged, pinching and pulling my bruised flesh. “Stop holding back,” he warned, slamming harder and knocking the breath from me. The ground was cold and hard, with small stones that dug into my spine and cut me. Mark always used to love my delicate skin, used to tease and caress me, lightly tracing my freckles with his tongue, loving me. I missed him and I cried, wanting him to save me. As the months wore on, I prayed for daddy to come and save me. Eventually Tuvok saved me. Or so I thought. But I’m skipping the best bits aren’t I? Oh god, I sound so shallow and bitter, with good reason, don’t you think? I hoped it would be a one-off, made sure I never wore anything he would consider enticing; made sure he never caught me outside in the tub. I hated that tub. The hours I would spend, soaping, washing, scrubbing, sobbing. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde; he was so gentle and considerate the rest of the time, making me coffee, preparing dinner … rubbing my neck. Of course, that particular favour cost me round two. I felt the change, the slow steady massage becoming a fevered grope, hands that moved to paw the front of my robe and squeeze my breasts. I tried to move, was even polite, thanking him for removing the knots … but then he removed the knot in my robe. My body tensed and I begged him to stop. He insisted I was enjoying it. Mercifully he didn’t last very long. Afterwards, he treated my bruised spine with the dermal regenerator; it seemed to have borne the brunt of his attack against the hard work surface. Softly, he whispered sweet loving words. I distanced myself, half listening, trying to control my tears and the violent shaking. New Earth was Hell on Earth. Every innocent thing was soiled. The tomato plants were my mine, something he could not dirty. Until the afternoon he came for me and my hair matted with their juice and my clothes stained from their rich colouring. The comm. badges beeped just as he was re-covering my sticky thighs with the skirt of my rumpled dress. Back onboard Voyager I foolishly believed I was safe. I was the Captain, I was in control, wasn’t I? They all knew something had changed. That arrogant bastard Paris had the nerve to wink knowingly at us as we re-took our command chairs. The betting pools were over-whelmed with most of my 'loyal' crew guessing when and where I’d put out for Chakotay. Ha! Hushed whispers speculated, was I as cold and frigid as I appeared? Did I moan or scream? Had I sucked his cock in my Ready Room? It was almost comical. I saw the sympathetic glances he got and felt the daggers they aimed at me as I withdrew from him. They blamed me, thought I was hiding behind protocol and rejecting him. “Poor Chakotay,” they said. Poor me. I struggled, maintaining the chain of command with a man that scared me … and yet, thanks to my self enforced isolation he was still my closest friend. Sometime after our spat with the Kazon and Seska I began to relax. Chakotay hadn’t come to me since our quarantine and I had hoped his attacks were a result of our infection. It was difficult, learning to trust him, letting him into my quarters for a meal, sharing holodeck time with him. Steadily I learnt how to trust … and he thanked me by shattering it. Damn Q! Damn him to Hell! His crazy idea of mating with me! He snatched me, dragged me into a war zone, begged me to save his race! Where did it get me? On my God-damn back with an angry First Officer pumping furiously into me, telling me the only child I would ever carry would be his. “Over my dead body!” I spat, watching as my saliva ran down his face. He just grinned and wiped his cheek along mine. From then on it became a regular occurrence, I’d lay in bed at night, cold and shivering, naked because that was the way he wanted me. He told me never to wear a nightgown again, that he wanted to creep into my bed and feel my skin without the inconvenience of first having to strip me. Oh and he did, over and over, night after night. Sometimes, he would leave me alone for weeks and the uneasy tension would make me physically sick. You see, I knew he would come and use me; I just had to guess when. Of course, in public he was the model officer, the perfect friend, a gentle and considerate man. If they only knew his other side, the darkness he hid, the desires he had, the perverse pleasure he took in breaking me. I’d try to avoid leaving the bridge with him, knowing that, when the mood struck him, I would have to endure his fevered groping until we reached Deck 2 or the Mess Hall. His favourite game? Ordering the computer to take us straight down to Deck 15, no stops. Oh God, I would finally stagger out of that lift with bruised breasts and a dry, fingered vagina, his idea of foreplay, and the sure knowledge that he would later pay me a visit. The only time he ever surprised me was when I’d received Mark’s letter. I felt so abandoned and hurt, my last tenuous link to the Kathryn Janeway I’d once been, shattered. I left Neelix’s party early, feigning a migraine, hoping against hope Chakotay would stay behind. I showered and climbed into bed, defiantly wearing a nightdress, a long frumpy nightdress. In the darkness I wept, holding on to my pillow and pretending it was Mark’s soft body. Why hadn’t I married him? Ten years spent loving that man, continuously fobbing him off every time he wanted to set a date. What was I scared of? That he would hold me back? Prevent me from becoming a captain? Tie me down with his children? It’s all so stupid now, because Mark only ever wanted me to be happy. The light from the corridor filtered through into my bedroom and his large shadow stood in the doorway. “Please not now,” I whispered hoarsely. He softly spoke my name and unlike his usual visits, it lacked the raw lust that repulsed me. However, like a good obedient girl, I sat up and pulled off my clothing, falling back into the pillows, resigned to my fate. He undressed while I spread my trembling legs. I felt the bed tilt from his weight and his arms scooping me up until I lay alongside him, my head on his chest. And very quietly, he soothed me, kissing my hair and stroking my arms, whispering assurances, drying my tears as they rolled onto his dark skin. He kissed my lips sweetly, easing me backwards as the fight left me and I clung to him. That night he suckled and lapped me into one orgasm after another, until I passed out from the sheer intensity. I regained consciousness to find him staring at me, his jet-black orbs moist and tender. “It could always be like this, Kathryn, if you’d just let me in,” he whispered. “You don’t normally require my consent to ‘let you in’,” I snapped. Fire blazed in his eyes and his jaw clenched. “God damn you Kathryn!” He was over me and almost in me before I could shoot back a reply. His teeth angrily bit at my neck and his hands held mine firmly over my head, a normal thing since the time I’d badly scratched his face. “You’ve already damned me to hell, Chakotay!” I hissed. I braced myself, waiting for the powerful lunge that always penetrated me. Instead, there was nothing, just his out-of-breath panting that chilled my ravaged neck. I waited. Eventually, he moved away and I worried what new tactic he was going to try. I remained naked and open, shivering in the coolness of the room, cursing my nipples as they hardened painfully. He dressed and in the dim light I watched him tuck his semi-hard cock back inside his uniform pants. How many times had I had that rammed down my throat? “Goodnight Kathryn,” he said quietly and to my surprise, he left. It was two months before he laid a finger on me, after the Hirogen’s occupation. The Hirogen had repeatedly beaten, stabbed, shot and tortured my crew for the best part of three weeks, despite the Doctor’s protests. Every time we fell, he was forced to patch us up and send us back into one violent simulation after another. Finally, we called a truce and the ‘Hunters’ left with technology that would enable them to build holodecks of their own, onboard their own ships. When the hoopla had finally died down, the Doctor called me to sickbay. I realised straight away that he had something unpleasant to tell me. I panicked, praying that my birth-control booster was still active, that I wasn’t carrying the bastard child of my First Officer. “Captain, I wish to discuss something with you,” he started, gesturing for me to take a seat. “During my treatment of your injuries, I couldn’t help but notice … evidence of serious sexual attacks …” My throat went dry as he continued, prying into something that was nothing to do with him. Did he really expect me to bare the whole sordid truth? I’m the Captain and no one can force me to listen to anything I do not want to. I silenced him and ordered him to remove any such knowledge from the ship’s data banks … because one day we would return home and I wanted to be a hero, not a victim. A week later, Chakotay invited me to the holodeck under the pretence of accompanying him to one of Tom’s get-togethers. Inside, the World War II programme was running and St Claire was under attack from the air, the explosions were the only illumination in the blacked out town. “I thought this could be fun,” he whispered against my neck. “Where are the others?” I asked, fearful of his reply. “Its just us, Kathryn,” he nibbled. And in the middle of a dark alleyway, my trusted First Officer pushed his hands up underneath the jumper I wore and began kneading my breasts. “Isn’t this exciting, Kathryn?” he growled. “Knowing we could get caught and shot by a Nazi patrol … or maybe they would enjoy you first … pass you around, hold you still whilst they exposed you and took turns …” The images he conjured scared the hell out of me. “They would make me watch as they bent you over and rammed their Aryan cocks deep inside your dirty Maquis pussy …” The cock that rammed into me was not Aryan. “They’d love your pale flesh, especially these … they’d make sure they got plenty of attention … perhaps a baby-faced blonde soldier would fuck your mouth … maybe another would fill your ass … another shooting off over your tits, splattering the wet lips that worked Fritz over … another ramming your cunt …” He was close, turned on by his crude fantasy and the angle his was taking me, from behind with me up on tiptoes, my chin against the cold brick wall. My nipple grew sore in his vice-like grip and my clitoris ached from his constant fingering. “I love the way you feel, …” he groaned, pinching my flesh harder and thrusting deeper. “Spirits Kathryn!” His sperm flooded me and ran down my thighs, thick and disgusting. He laughed. I tucked my red breasts back inside my bra and moved to retrieve my panties. “Wait, not so fast … I know what you want now …” he leered, spinning me around and pushing me once more against the wall. His head disappeared under my full skirt and his breath blew over my curls. I bit my lip as his tongue lapped along my sex, swirling, tasting, probing. I could feel it moving inside me, plundering me, seeking out that spot I hoped he would never find … Mark never did. Oh God help me. My stomach quivered, my breasts flooded with blood, my legs tensed … I could smell the stench of my fat, swollen pussy, smell my obvious arousal. His nose nudged my clitoris and my head swam, my vision blurred and stars tormented me behind my shuttered lids. That son of a bitch had made me climax again. “Bastard!” I hissed. He just smirked and licked the sheen of our combined juices from his lips. “We taste good together. Taste!” he ordered, grabbing the back of my head and forcing my mouth to his. I tried to resist him, but he blocked off my nose, forcing me to gasp for air then plunged his tongue deep into my mouth, making me gag. “See?” he asked, letting me go as I doubled over coughing and heaving. “Well, its late Kathryn and I have the early shift … sleep well.” I continued to retch as he slapped my buttocks and walked out of the holodeck. When B’Elanna came to me with the idea of a Quantum Slip Stream Drive, positive she could make it work, I readily agreed – anything to get me back home and away from him. I remember the party we had, for one moment I felt normal, surrounded by such hope and good cheer. Why the hell did I invite him for dinner? As the crew celebrated in engineering and the holodecks, Chakotay and I celebrated in my quarters. I gave him vegetable biriyani and he gave me a raw rectum … my first ever experience at anal sex, though unfortunately not my last. My God, I thought he was going to tear me apart. Such agony! Did he care? Did he stop? Did he hell! “Kathryn, you feel so tight …” he rasped, gripping my buttocks and pulling them apart to get deeper. It hurt. I cried and the cold curry my face was pressed into suffocated my sobs. Congealed rice stuck to my tear-stained cheeks and invaded my mouth with every sharp breath, until I almost choked. Why did he do this to me? I knew what would follow … the usual declarations of love, the soft kisses, the licks to my pussy. Well, not that night. No amount of cunninglingus can make me orgasm when I’m in that much pain. For two days I had to use sanitary protection in my panties, afraid that I would ease myself up from my command chair and show the entire bridge crew red blood leaking from my ass. At least he waited a while before trying that again and when he did, he told me it was punishment for crossing the line with Noah Lessing. Punishment? Ha! At the time I wished I’d been the one locked me in the cargo bay and threatened by the aliens. I swear he had the Doctor enhance his cock that night. I think he had him enhance it further the day I returned from Quarra. He couldn’t even wait for me to regain my memories, before dragging me from sickbay and molesting me in the lift. No one heard my screams. Can you imagine? It was like the first attack all over again, except this time I had no idea who he was, or that this was part of our regular routine. Isn’t that tragic? That him abusing me had become something I had grown so used to. Afterwards, as the lift resumed, I laid on the floor, curled into a ball, cupping the tender flesh between my thighs, while he stood over me, squeezing out the last of his semen into my loose hair. “Did Jaffen do this? Never forget Kathryn, you are mine …” And maybe I am. It is a very strange experience to meet your future self. My God what a twisted, bitter bitch Admiral Janeway was … or will become. We are home now, almost. Two more days and we will be orbiting Earth and I can go home, to my mom. Once upon a time I thought mom would protect me, soothe me, treat me like her little girl again … oh, but that little girl has gone and she can’t be brought back … and I can’t be saved. The Admiral told me about Chakotay and Seven, I was speechless. How could he do that? Take her; she was an innocent, a child. Did he belittle her like he did me? Did he abuse her? Hurt her? It sounds awful, but a part of me was relieved. Until two hours ago, that is. I’ll never forget that look on his face, that smiling, smug look … those dimples I could quite easily carve from his cheeks with a dagger. He stood in my Ready Room and told me the choice was mine that he hadn’t consummated his relationship with Seven, despite her obvious desire to. My flesh crawled. He explained that I could choose to spare Seven from his more extreme tastes … by offering myself to him. He wanted me to promise that from this day I would willingly go to him and allow him to ‘love’ me. I wanted to tell him to go to hell. He told me I had two hours to consider his proposal and at 1900hrs he would come to my quarters and hear my answer. So, here I sit, waiting, staring at the mirror on my vanity unit. Do I recognise the woman staring back? Oh, her hair looks pretty, all shiny and brushed out loose and she looks pretty, with ruby red lips that form a gentle pout. Her clothes are a little trashy, black lace and red silk designed to conceal nothing, yet lifting and shaping her small breasts. They are enticing, soft, pale mounds tipped with hard dark nipples that jut outwards. She is waiting for her lover and her pussy tingles in anticipation. I congratulate myself, because he is mine and I will never give him up. Sorry Seven. The End Too Sick for you? Tell me! Back to main page Back to smut index |
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