by Scorpio
April 2001
(NC-17)
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Disclaimer: TPTB would never have the balls to do this;
I sorta wonder where it came from, too.
Blame it all on the great international (galactic?) jellyfish
conspiracy, jokes about generic Viagra, one strange dream and a need for just
plain old hard-core lust right now…
~*~
"I
tell you, doc, the woman is killing me!" whimpered Tom Paris, slumping down
onto the biobed behind him in sickbay.
"It was tough enough before she was pregnant, but now…
now… I think those Klingon hormones
have taken her over. She’s after me night and day… there’s no rest; she’s a
wild animal!" His body shifted slightly
and stiffly, eliciting more muffled moans.
The
doctor shook his head. There was never a dull moment… or one without multiple
physical repercussions… with the Paris/Torres relationship. If it wasn’t love bites and contusions with
these two lovebirds, it was hairline fractures of clavicles and implants along
hairlines! Tom was certainly correct in
his assessment of his mate’s insatiable, voracious sexual appetite. It appeared that pregnant Klingons craved
only one thing… and it wasn’t pickles and butter-brickle ice cream!
Long,
deep wrinkles rippled across the EMH’s smooth forehead as he continued his
medical tricorder scan of the younger man’s lower body. "Hmmmm.
Well, I must concur with your reported complaints, Mr. Paris. The spongiosum
corposum tissue within your penis
is definitely showing signs of loss of structural integrity, as well as
noticeable indications of decreased excretions by your prostate and Cowper’s
glands. Have you had any… um… problems
in meeting these… um… increased needs of your wife lately?"
Tom’s
sighed, filled with both physical and emotional weariness. "That’s just it, doc," he said, his blue
eyes liquid with tears. "For one of the
rare times in my life, I’m really having a problem; I just can’t seem to get it
up anymore, and this is frustrating B’Elanna more and more! I want to… I always want to… but it just
won’t work. I’ve tried all sorts of
tricks… and she has, too – but there’s… nothing!" He was almost crying, his words pitiful and poignant. "I feel… I feel like I’m an old man,
doc! This can’t be right… I just can’t…
can’t… be…"
The
EMH shook his head, watching whatever residue of virility Tom had left rapidly
deplete second by second; the younger man’s entire body appeared as soft and
flaccid as the organ in question. He
wanted to pat Tom with a touch of encouragement, but knew that any physical
touch at this point in time would be an act of insult; he pulled back his hand
before it made contact. Laying down the
tricorder, he leaned down towards Tom, trying to comfort him as best he
could. "I’m sure we can work out
something, Tom. You… um… relax here for
a few moments while I go check out something in my office."
Tom’s
body quivered with silent sobs as the doctor walked the short distance to his
office. The darkness that hung over him
now was worse that any of his penal incarcerations… worse than the trips
through the voids… worse than B’Elanna’s darkest moods. He sank deeper and deeper into the mental
morass of the nightmare of his failed manhood.
Silence overtook the sickbay; the only sounds heard were the erratic
inhales and exhales of the helmsman’s tortured breathing.
Suddenly,
a piercing cry called him back to life.
With the elation of monumental discovery, the EMH called out across the
room. "Eureka, Mr. Paris; I think I may
have found a solution to your problem!
Come here… right now!"
Tom’s
body hadn’t quite reached the levels of fervor that the doctor’s voice
attained, but he did manage to raise himself and stumble slowly towards the
semi-enclosed office area where the EMH looked, with eyes open and wide, at the
computer monitor in front of him.
"Here…
here’s the answer, Tom!" he cried out with gusto. "Just look at this!"
Tom
finally made it the doctor’s side. His
rheumy eyes cleared enough to make out a complicated chemical formula that
flowed across the screen, its H’s and O’s and
N’s and P’s forming long arms wrapped around multiple polygons of carbon
configurations. His interest was short
lived. "Doc, this doesn’t mean anything
to me; you’re the one who knows organic chemistry."
The
doctor stood back, a self-satisfied smirk running across his face. "What we’re looking at here, Mr. Paris, is
an ancient pharmaceutical formula from the late 20th century on
Earth. It was used specifically to
overcome erectile dysfunction in males of that era… and apparently met with a
great deal of success. It went by the
generic name of ‘mydixadud’. Perhaps
we could replicate some of it and see if it could be of benefit in your
particular situation." He scrolled down
the page, reading and muttering as he went along. "Yes, yes! I really think
we could do this!" He turned to Paris,
who was still rather stupefied by the entire scenario.
"Uh…
yeah; I guess so, doc." His body seemed
to take on a little more life and confidence.
"Uh… how soon do you…"
"How
soon can I have it ready?" the EMH finished, concluding his absorption of the
information on the screen in front of him.
"Oh… give me about an hour."
The
rejuvenated helmsman breathed a sigh of hope, and Tom’s arms formed a big
embrace around the doctor. "Doc, you’re
the greatest!"
"Of
course I am," the EMH said smugly, while trying to escape Paris’ bear hug.
Life
began to reanimate the younger man as he turned to go. "Let me know as soon as the…" He stopped
short and turned, his face full of question.
"Uh… how is this wonder drug used, doc?"
The
doctor was already busily keying in the formula into a program for his medical
replicator. "Well, in its original
form, it was given as a pill… to be swallowed a prescribed amount of time
before anticipated intercourse."
Tom
stopped, his earlier glee dissipating quickly,
"Uh… I don’t know if that would work in our situation, doc. I mean… when she wants it, she wants it… if you get what I mean. You know… ‘instant gratification’ and all
that.
The
EMH looked up, nodding as he immediately sensed the problem. "Oh, yes; I do understand what you
mean." He leaned close to the screen,
running his fingers across the complicated formula, muttering to himself as he
went along. Suddenly, he stiffened with
enlightenment. "Aha! I’ve found the answer to the problem! I’ll make it into a liquid form… one that
can be applied directly to your organ via a fine mist, right before one of your
little… um… interludes. It should
elicit a rapid response to your needs."
He looked up, again, with the self-satisfaction of a Cheshire cat. "How does that sound?"
"Marvelous,
doc; you may have saved our marriage!" Tom exclaimed, dancing towards the
doors.
"Not
to mention the ship," muttered the doctor, returning to his task.
~*~
Naomi
Wildman sat on the tall stool, her feet idly tapping its metal rungs, as her
dangling legs swung around precariously.
Fingertips of her left hand accompanied her feet in their little banal
symphony. The pink flesh of her right
cheek rested heavily in her right hand; a deep sigh communicated her monotony
with the subject at hand.
"Icheb,
this is boring. I want to go back to
astrometrics; all this life science stuff is stupid. Why do I even have to learn about it?"
The
tall young man turned from the monitor screen in front of them, trying to be
patient with the girl. "Because we’re
going to be back in the Alpha Quadrant soon, and we must make sure that you can
fit in with other children your age.
The Captain says that all Terran children have a firm grasp of
evolutionary comparative anatomy before they are twelve, and you have fallen
behind in this area of your studies.
Now… come on; let’s go over this one more time." He keyed in some instructions, and the
images on the screen scrolled in a rewind fashion in front of them.
"Yuk;
these structures disgust me!" Naomi exclaimed as the files began again. "What good is a so-called animal if it can’t
play with you? These stupid things
without backbones and brains are just… stupid!" She sank back into her chair,
folding her arms tightly across her chest, squinching up her face as the files
opened.
Icheb
sighed, trying to remain patient.
"Naomi, everything has a purpose in its given environment. Without all of these ‘stupid’ animals, as
you call them, we wouldn’t have a balance in nature. Why don’t you try to
understand their purpose from that point of view? Just like each of us here on Voyager has his or her own job in
order to make the ship run smoothly, so does every living thing within a biome
have its function."
He
quickly called up a file on ocean biomes; the monitor filled with a deep blue
fluid background, filled with waving plants and colorful swimming
creatures. "See… look here." He pointed to the undulating graceful leaves
of a large sea plant. "In an ocean
environment, sea kelp forests act as both food and shelter for other living
creatures found there." He pointed to
several spiny looking creatures clustered within the flowing fronds. "Here… these are call sea urchins…"
"Yuk,"
Naomi grimaced, closing her eyes and shaking her head.
"…
and they provide food for these creatures, called otters," Icheb continued,
refusing to allow her comments to bother him.
"In turn, the remains of the consumed sea urchins are then broken down
by bacteria and fungi, releasing minerals and organic substances which then
make the sea floor fertile for growth of new kelp plants. See? It’s all a wonderful cycle…"
"Wait
a minute!" Naomi cried out, pointing at the screen with sparked curiosity. "Icheb… what’s that?" She leaned into the screen and wildly
pointed to a shadowy outline floating in the background of the kelp forest.
Icheb
realized that he might have found something to spark the girls’ interest. "That’s what the people on Earth call a
jellyfish."
Naomi
looked at him blankly. "Is that where
Neelix gets that stuff he puts in those peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"
Naomi asked, her face forming a mask of sudden disgust for something she really
liked.
Trying
to hide a smile, Icheb continued. "No,
no; these creatures are called that because… well, because they wiggle like
jelly. I’ve read that they even feel
that way, too."
Her
gaze was fixed on the animal, gracefully bobbing around in the deep blue
waters. It appeared translucent and
reflected the rainbows of light changes all around it. Icheb knew that he’d hooked her; now, to set
that hook.
"You
want to learn more about these creatures?" he asked quietly.
Naomi
took on a new enthusiasm. "Oh, yes;
let’s they are really… weird! In a
pretty way… but weird!"
"So. Weird it is, " Icheb continued, as he called
up the file on the creatures.
A
schematic diagram of the life form took the place of the live-motion scenario
on the screen. Naomi’s expression
immediately resumed its former unimpressed demeanor. "I don’t want to look at pictures; I want to see the real thing," she pouted.
Icheb’s
patience was running thin; the child was impossible! But then it hit him… use her request as a learning experience…
that’s it; that’s what he would do! He
turned to the young girl, his eyes beginning to smile as well as his lips. "Naomi… I have an idea. Let’s see if we can figure out how to clone
a couple of jellyfish, so that you really can observe them in ‘real life’. What do you say?"
She
grabbed ahold of her young tutor. "Oh,
yes! Icheb, that would be
wonderful! I’ve been wanting to have a
pet, and I’m sure my mother wouldn’t mind…"
"Whoa,
whoa;" he chortled. "Not so fast! If we
do this, we’ll have to keep them in a very controlled environment so that
nothing will happen to them. And we’ll
want to observe them as how they live.
I think we’d have to leave them here in the science lab so that nothing
happens to them."
Naomi
nodded slowly and silently, realizing that this was true. How else would they be able to justify
cloning a living object to the captain?
"Okay. But… even if they stay
here, they can still be ‘mine’, can’t they?" she chirped.
"I
suppose," Icheb smiled back at her.
"But… before we approach Capt. Janeway, maybe we’d better learn a little
more about jellyfish, so that she knows how important this ‘observation’ is
going to be."
Naomi
nodded her understanding. "Okay. Let’s see what these animals are all about."
Icheb
called up the schematic screen again and started pointing out the remarkable
structure in front of them. He took on
the persona of teacher again, but conveyed the information as a painting of
words.
"The
jellyfish are in a group of animals called the cnidaria…"
"What
does that mean?"
"It
comes from an ancient Terran language called Greek, and means ‘sea nettle’,"
Icheb answered.
"Nettle? Isn’t that a plant that has little prickly
things on it?" Naomi asked.
Icheb
nodded. "Yes… and you’ll find out why the jellyfish has such a name in a
minute." He pointed to the central
umbrella-like structure in the middle.
"This part of the animal is called the medusa, and it contains all of the organs necessary fro the animal
to live."
"Where’s
the brain?" Naomi asked.
"It
doesn’t have a brain," Icheb answered.
"Then
how can it think? How does it know what
to do?"
Icheb
sighed. "That’s why we have to study
all animals in an evolutionary sequence, Naomi. The reason is…"
"Does
it eat? Where’s the jelly? Can it have
babies?" Her questions were coming fast and furious.
"Yes,
it eats." He pointed to the central
area on the bottom side of the ‘umbrella’.
"Here’s where its mouth is located… right here in the middle." He then traced along the long thin
appendages that hung down from the umbrella-like medusa. "And these are called the ‘tentacles’…
they’re sort of like arms all the way around the medusa and use them to swoop
food into the mouth area."
"Isn’t
that kind of hard to do? Those arms
don’t look strong enough to scoop up food," the girl commented.
"Ah…
that’s where the ‘nettle’ part comes in," continued Icheb. "Within the
tentacles are thousands of microscopic stinging cells called cnidocytes that work like tiny harpoons
for the jellyfish. When ‘food’ is close
by, they can shoot out these stinging cells, snagging them in their prey, and
pulling it back towards its mouth. If
they prey is to big to pull back – say you were in the water around it and it
thought maybe you’d be good food – which you aren’t, by the way – the stinging
cells would do just that: sting you."
"And
then… what happens with the jelly?"
"Well,
the jelly isn’t really jelly, but a thick layer of loosely-packed cells which
have a substance that holds them together that gives it the jelly like
appearance. Within this thick layer,
you can find the organs of the jellyfish:
the gut; the gonads…"
"Gonads?"
she asked.
"The
sex organs," he stated.
"Oh…
then they can have babies!" she exclaimed.
"Yes,
they can have babies," he answered.
Now… let’s look up the DNA codes for this group of animals and see if
they are approved for duplication within our replicating capabilities.
"Okay!"
Naomi said, jumping up from her chair.
"Let’s go ask the Captain!"
A
few minutes later, the two young people had set up an appointment to speak with
Captain Janeway, who gave her blessing to cloning a few jellyfish as an
‘educational observation situation’.
They began their research for the cloning process and proceeded with the
experiment.
~*~
Janeway’s
comm badge buzzed. "Janeway here," she
responded.
"Captain,"
Chakotay’s voice stated, "We’ve located
a rather large area of electromagnetic flux about a million kilometers
ahead. It seems to be composed of
patterns of very short, powerful waves, with a lot of combined beta and gamma
radiation. It appears to be coming from
an ionic storm about two light years away."
"Any
way of avoiding it?" she asked.
"Negative;
it’s going to be on top of us pretty quickly."
"Predicted
effects?"
"Some
physical turbulence, due to force field waves, and possibly some disruption to
systems sensitive to wavelengths of this size."
"What
about us… the crew?"
"We
should be all right, provided we’re all up to-date-with our radiation
protection."
"B’Elanna?
Should she have some extra protection?"
"I’ve
already contacted her, and she’s going to sequester herself in a radiation
safe-room."
"All
right. I guess we just warn everyone to
brace for some impact, and ride it out."
"Affirmative,"
he answered. "I’ll notify
everyone."
~*~
The
first officer made a ship-wide announcement, recommending cessation of any and
all physical activities for the expected 2.7 minutes of passing through the
flux. Impact was expected in thirteen
minutes.
In
sickbay and the science lab, the doctor and Icheb and Naomi were working on
their respective duplication processes. Nearly all work had been completed on
each of the projects; information had been entered into the bio-neural
circuitry of the ships’ replicator system, and all that was left was to call up
the results of their experiments.
However, not wanting to be caught holding the resulting products of
their formulations just as the turbulent surges hit, they sat back to wait
until Voyager sailed into calmer space.
Right
on schedule, at the estimated time of impact, the full force of the flux hit
the ship, buffeting everyone within with a rolling tide of ebbs and flows. Three minutes later, all was back to normal,
and all activities resumed. Nothing had
changed… except for the mutation of several DNA structures floating around
within the bio-neural packs… creating a new product that contained the codes
for Terran jellyfish and an organic pharmaceutical substance called mydixadud.
~*~
The
alpha shift concluded for the day, with nothing more of note after the
turbulence of the storm. Tom Paris was on the turbolift, headed back to the
morbid atmosphere of his quarters when the doctor’s voice summoned him on his
comm badge.
"Mr.
Paris, I’m sorry for the delay in your request; I’ve had a rash of
gastrointestinal problems all day long… probably from that byrwoojian stew of Neelix’ from last night’s meal."
Paris
chuckled. "That’s okay, doc; I’m just getting off my duty shift. Don’t think there would have been any need
for it on the bridge." He laughed to
himself, imagining what a scene that
would have created! "I’ll be right
there."
The
EMH was waiting for him when he arrived, holding up a pressurized vial
containing his aphrodisiacal concoction.
"I think this is just what the doctor ordered," he smirked, giggling
slightly at his weak pun. "Now… all you
have to do is give yourself a quick spray on the desired area,,, and you should
be up and growing in no time."
Tom
took the proffered potion. "Thanks,
doc. I hope the next time you see me,
it’ll be for ordinary, post-coital injuries.
"I’m
sure," the doctor snorted as the young man left.
Once
more on the turbolift, Tom began whistling happily at the prospect of regained
virility. Life would be back to normal.
His
comm badge buzzed again. What now? he thought. He
immediately heard the captain’s voice.
"Tom,
I know that you just got off duty, but I need to see you right now."
"Can’t it wait?" he asked plaintively.
"Well,
possibly; but there are a few questions about some readings we had during the
storm and I’d like your input so we can put the whole episode to rest. It shouldn’t take much time. I’ve just compared your report with that
from astrometrics and there are a few details that don’t quite match. Chakotay is with me right now; in fact, he’s
the one who brought the discrepancies to my attention. He saw some indications
of unexplained maneuvers of the ship while we were inside the EM streams. I’m calling in Seven, too."
"I’m
on my way," he answered, hoping his voice didn’t sound too halfhearted. "Computer… bridge," he sighed heavily.
He
walked the distance across the bridge from the turbolift, glancing at the fresh
faces of the beta shift crew. Halfway
across, he heard the turbolift doors open and Seven appeared. He turned and waited for her to join him.
"Any
idea what this is all about?" he asked her.
"I
believe that the Captain is concerned about the integrity of the ship during
the storm. She wishes to review your
flight data regarding the wave dispersement with my data from astrometrics,"
she responded coolly, her eyes wandering to the vial enclosed in his hand, her
Borg eyebrow raising with inquiry. "You are carrying a medication dispenser;
are you ill? Is the lieutenant all
right?"
His
face flushed briefly. "Uh… yeah;
everything’s okay. It’s… it’s just a…
um… vitamin enhancement."
"I
see," she nodded, satisfied with the answer.
They
buzzed their presence at the captain’s ready room doors and Janeway admitted
them. "Come in, people. I’m sure we can resolve these problems in
quick order and then we can get back to what we were doing shortly." She was seated at her desk, with Chakotay
standing behind her to the left. "Come
join us."
The
two younger staff members walked over to her desk area. Seven sauntered to the left of Chakotay,
while Tom went to the right of the seated Janeway. The older woman held a padd filled with calculations that she was
studying. "It seems that a very narrow
band of the electromagnetic waves were absorbed into something on the ship
during our interlude with the flux.
Tom, did you notice any instability with handling the ship at this
time?"
"No
more than any other storm." He looked at her, his face full of puzzlement. "Do you think there’s some damage we don’t
know about?"
Seven
held out the padd she had brought with her.
"Captain, from what I can tell, the energy waves were absorbed mainly by
bio-neural packs. I don’t know if this
affects all of them or if it occurred in only an isolated number. However, I do not believe they would be
affected, as the buffering agents within the packs should prevent any
repercussions. However, if there were any active replication occurring at the
exact time we were within the flux, those products might have been damaged."
Janeway
looked up, pondering her thoughts. I
really can’t think of anything that would have been going on; we asked everyone
to sit back and brace for the impact of the force field."
"I
haven’t heard of any ill effects," Chakotay countered. "I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if
anyone reports anything out of the ordinary."
"Agreed,"
she sighed, sinking back into her chair and waving them off. "I’m sorry to have called you folks in for
nothing; I just get a little bit concerned when we see anything out the
ordinary. Dismissed."
Seven
turned to leave, forgetting her padd, still on the captain’s desk. Tom leaned
forward to pick it up for her. The flat
rectangle was on the far side of the desk, where Chakotay had been looking at
her report. The reach was quite a
stretch, with Janeway’s monitor screen
on the desk providing an awkward obstacle to his non-reaching left arm. The unwieldy reach precipitated a slight
slip in his footing and his left elbow sharply hit the desk surface with a loud
‘crack’. Nervous responses jerked his arm and hand by reflex and he lost his
grip on the precious pressurized container he was holding. In a frantic grab
for the vial, which was quickly rolling towards the edge of the desk, he
managed to hit and release the spray button. Immediately, the vaporized
contents spewed forth, catching Janeway and Chakotay in the broad fan of its
spray.
Panicked,
he grabbed again for the rolling phial, finally catching it before it fell to
the floor. However, residue spray coated the container, creating a gelatinous,
sticky surface. His hands quickly
became coated with the repulsive substance and, in his panic to free himself
from its grasp, he managed to hit the release valve again. The resulting spray
dispensed another massive dose of its contents, this time catching Seven and
himself in its misty veil, its strong pressure directing the contents on them
from head to thigh.
Capt.
Janeway was trying to brush it the residue off her, but soon discovered that it
didn’t brush off very well; its jellylike substance was oozing and sticky. In
fact, by attempting to rub it off, it only became more of a sticky liquid, and
it was rapidly forming a slick layer all over her and her uniform. She backed away from her desk, trying to
give herself more room to move, "Mr. Paris, what the hell is this?" She began walking quickly to the upper level
of the room, where there was a decanter of water on the low table in from of a
sofa.
"I’m
sorry, Captain; this isn’t the way it was supposed be…"Paris pleaded, following
after her to the upper level.
Meanwhile,
on the other side of the desk, Seven stood in innocent bewilderment at the
situation. "I am very uncomfortable, Mr. Paris," Seven whimpered, her silvery
jumpsuit now covered with a thin layer of the resulting goo, her smooth hair
a gleaming helmet against her head,
also covered with the substance. "I am
in need of a thorough cleansing," she
continued, pathetically.
"We
all
are, Seven," Janeway cried out impatiently.
"Come on over here; let’s see if we can wash it off."
Seven
followed Janeway, all the while trying to rub the offensive stuff off her
clinging uniform, only to find that it was seeping through the porous stretch
material and coming into contact with her skin beneath.
As
she continued her trek to the table with its water pitcher, Janeway called out
over her shoulder to Chakotay. "There
are some disposable tissues in the drawer of that table, Chakotay. Could you get some for us and see if we can
get this cleaned up?"
"I’m
on it," the first officer answered, pulling out the drawer of the indicated
small table even as she spoke. He
grabbed a few of the tissues and started rubbing at the offensive substance,
which ran all the way down the front of his uniform.
Tom
had borne the brunt of the two discharges of the vial’s contents. He felt his body going into a state of shock
as the thick, clammy substance quickly seeped into the layers of his uniform…
shock, and then a tingling numbness, a feeling that cold fire was ripping
through his body, pinpointing specific areas, allowing his mind to think of
nothing else. He found his eyes
focusing on something in front of him, intent on watching and becoming
mesmerized as the motion became a siren call… an invitation… summoning a primal need. His face flushed; his mind could think of
nothing else.
There…
in front of him… moving ever so seductively… was the rounded derriere of his
captain. Churning and rotating, their
soft flesh burning its message to him from underneath its concealing black
fabric covering… summoning his ravished, dormant manhood, its wordless song
calling him to life like a charmer bids his trained snake. He had to have it… he had to invade the
secret chambers within that flesh. His
hands reached out, grabbing Kathryn Janeway’s swiveling hips as she bent into
position to pick up the decanter of water on the low table in front of
her. His large hands stilled her
movement, pushing her back towards the handrail that marked the step down from
the upper part of the room to her desk area.
Janeway’s
mind likewise became clouded to her surroundings and her purposed task. As she reached down for the container she
originally sought, she became aware only of the hands that were grabbing her,
clutching her with searing heat. She
moaned, feeling a long-forgotten warmth surge throughout her, strange and
pleasant, mingling with the wetness of the sticky fluid covering her. Her hands reached out, not for the pitcher,
but for the front of her uniform; she was stifling; she had to get out of
it! The hands holding and propelling
her sensed what she was trying to do; and, in tandem movement, his hands joined
hers in pulling down the oppressive trousers of her uniform.
In
the midst of their heated actions, they failed to see the tall lithesome Borg
coming up to the upper level. In their
altered states, they ran into the poor woman, knocking her to the floor,
oblivious to her presence. She, like
Janeway, suddenly became desperate in wanting to rid herself of the confines of
her clothing. She sprawled on the
floor, her body straddled by the other two, as she clawed at the tight fabric,
grabbing and ripping and pulling it off of her pale skin, panting as a strange
new sensation rapidly surged though her body, muscles from deep inside
contracting and releasing, taking her into a state of dizziness. It seemed unpleasant but not unpleasant; a
discomfort that gave a strange satisfaction. She curled up on the floor, trying
to protect herself from the fumbling bodies now directly over her, but wanting
to release the rising heat and pressure she felt within herself.
Tom
freed Janeway from the stumbling block of her trousers. With one large hand, he
bent her over the handrail; with the other, he swiftly released his now very
firm, elongated and ready dick. In the
drugged hallucination of his mind, the long organ glowed with a deep rosiness he
had never seen before. He was being drawn to her like a divining rod reaches
out for water. Her rounded narrow
buttocks shone, coated by a film of the glistening goo that covered all of them
now… slick and wet and inviting. He
could think of nothing else. In one
massive move, he entered her from behind, sighing into her readiness, warm and
hot and cold and slick. His long organ
slammed into her up to its hilt, her waiting chamber equally ready and
accommodating. Again and again, he
pulled back and entered, slipping and sliding into her with the ease of a well
oiled piston rod.
As
the scene on the upper platform unfolded, Chakotay forgot what Janeway had
asked him for. His eyes became glued to
her face, peering at him from over the rail.
Her visage glowed with heat and passion, entranced in the overwhelming
lust and desire rapidly rising inside
her. Her eyes alternated being open
wide with sexual fervor and closing tightly to allow her to escape to her own
private pleasures. Her mouth was open, lips moist and soft, richer and fuller
than he ever could remember them… lips silently crying out for him, begging for
him, wanting him. Yes… finally… that’s
what she wanted; he knew it!
He
shook the exasperating tissues from his hands, but they tenaciously clung to
the sticky layer on his skin. His coated hands grappled with his trousers as he
pulled at them, wanting to free himself from their encumberment. The heat was searing; he felt himself full
and erect, almost painful with engorgement, all of his actions being directed
by some unknown instinct and urge. He
felt his throbbing member plead… just as she was pleading for him. He grabbed a chair close to him and pushed
it with one hand as he stripped himself of the offensive clothing smothering
him with the other one. He placed the
chair right in front of her, and, climbing up, sought to fill those inviting
lips with the gift he offered. With one
hand, he reached out for her shoulder, steadying her thrashing movements,
crooning to her to accept him. His
other hand rolled over the hot smooth surface of his burning organ, guiding it
to her awaiting orifice. As he slid
into her, her lips encompassed his firm flesh, moaning with a long suppressed
delight and desire, her tongue welcoming him with loving caresses, wanting him
deep and within her. She reached out,
her hand covering his, massaging the glistening shaft as it continued its
rhythmic thrusts.
Paris’
movements elicited the inner fluids of Janeway’s rapture to flow and mingle
with the gelatinous coating that prepared her passages. Soon, the heavy drops oozed out of their
enclosure, and began yielding to the artificial gravity of the ship, breaking
free of the surface tension of her voluptuous body tissues. As the droplets grew, Seven’s eyes fixed
upon their glistening roundness. The
droplets formed like ripe berries, waiting to be plucked and devoured, hanging
heavily on it fleshy arbor right above the blonde woman’s head. She raised her shoulders slightly from their
prone position on the floor underneath Janeway’s straddling legs. The rich moisture was so tempting… so
inviting. She reached up to surface of
the swollen red lips, wanting to pluck their treasure as her own. While still allowing Tom his heated
thrusts, she gently parted the older woman’s nether lips, eager to gain access
to what she knew she wanted. She
stretched her long body more and more, the muscles in her alabaster neck
growing into a taut tower, her tongue reaching out like a flagstaff on top of
that tower, meeting the first droplet just as it fell. Rich and velvety, she allowed her first
taste to roll around on her tongue, delighting in its musky saltiness and
gelatinous texture, suddenly addicted to its savor.
With
her second sampling, she allowed her tongue more access to the warm flesh. From within the soft fullness above, her
long muscular tongue came upon a small nub of hardened tissue, like a smooth
stone sticking up from a path. An urge
swept through her to grasp this nub with her lips and allow her tongue to play
along its surfaces, rolling it and kneading it – it just seemed the right thing
to do. She could hear increased moans
from the older woman above her, like a muffled cry in the distance, as she
continued. The accompanying thrusts from Paris’s pillar of flesh became more
and more rapid.
She
suddenly felt a warm surge from her own blossoming nether lips, an itch that
needed to be tended. With her free
hand, she sought out the demanding prickle, reaching out her long fingers to
soothe it. Ah; that was better; the
rubbing felt good! Her fingers, now
slickened by the mingled fluids, slid further into her opening, seeming to
search for a deeper need… a thirst that needed to be quenched. Deeper and deeper she probed, until she
found the small place that twinged and ached.
Harder and harder she rubbed until she felt her entire body tense,
pulled to the limits of her endurance, crying out for something… something…
Her
cry wasn’t the only one. In one
synchronous and glorious climax, four voices harmonized in a final chord. Seven screamed her release, slumping to the
floor as Paris’ final plunge poured forth the climax of his long-pending
orgasm. He caught the captain in his
arms as her body succumbed to the liberation of her long years of sexual suppression. Chakotay groaned, his exhausted member with
its contents now discharged, slipping from in between Janeway’s lips. She moaned with satisfaction, licking her
lips as she and Paris fell to the floor.
Chakotay slumped forward, his upper body slipping under the handrail and
joining the suddenly silent trio on the upper level. Their stilled bodies became a rounded mound of naked flesh and
rent garments; the room was redolent with the thick, heavy aura of sweat and
spent sex.
~*~
Back
in the science lab, Icheb and Naomi raced over to the replicator, awaiting
materialization of their requested cnidarian specimens. The barely subliminal hum, signaling the
imminent appearance of their results, rang in their ears. The bright sizzle of the electromagnetic
reconstruction sparked in front of their eyes, and soon, the shadowy image of
the specimen container and its contents solidified in front of them.
"Request
complete," the computer said. They
looked at what was on the replicator shelf in front of them. The specimen container, about thirty centimeters
tall and fifteen centimeters in diameter, appeared on the flat surface. It contained a slightly bluish liquid, but
that was all; there were no ghostly forms of their quest.
"Where
are the jellyfish?" Naomi whined pathetically.
"I don’t see any jellyfish in there."
Icheb
shook his head. "No, it doesn’t look
like it. Maybe we made some errors in
our calculations; I guess we should check it out."
Naomi
quickly reached towards the heavy cylinder, its contents precariously close to
overflowing the confines of its tight lid.
"No!
Don’t do that, Naomi," the youth responded, pulling back her hands. "We’ve got to move this carefully, so that
it doesn’t spill." She silently
acknowledged his older judgment and withdrew her hands, allowing his larger
ones to encircle the jar containing the unknown substance and carry it over to
the large counter surface. He settled
it into place and turned to Naomi.
"Would you please get the bio-spectrometer for me? That should allow us to analyze what we have
here."
"I
don’t think we have one here right now," Naomi answered. "I’ll go to sickbay and see if the doctor
has one."
Icheb
nodded his endorsement to her suggestion and she ran out of the lab, thrilled
with the thought of further investigation of their product.
As
the doors to the science lab closed, Icheb carefully popped off the lid from
the container, eager to get a closer look at the strange substance that made up
its contents. A few drops of the
viscous material sloshed on to his hands, rapidly coating them with a slick
gelatinous layer.
A
warm sensation began flowing through his body, and his mind quickly forgot its
focus. All he could dwell upon was a
rapidly progressing tension he was feeling… heat surging throughout… a certain
need… desire. His skin felt slick and
smooth, covered with the mysterious material. All he could think of was one
person, and he had to see her… now.
His hand flew up to his comm badge, his pleading voice calling out with
urgency.
"Seven,
I need you right now… in the science lab!"
THE
END
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