STAR TREK: BROKEN BODICE
A parody by Micky Budarrap
Disclaimer: Star Trek, its characters, locations and plots are not my creations and are used without permission. No profit has been or will be made by their use in this story.
“Broke Bodice” is not intended for consumption by minors. If you are below the adult age in your country, state or county then read no further and delete this file from your computer. By reading this disclaimer you agree to take full responsibility for continuing.
The author does not encourage or condone the enormously disrespectful and frequently criminal things that are done to women in this story. The activities performed in this fictional work should never be inflicted on people in the real world.
This is a work of fiction that features rampant exploitation
of women in parody of the depictions of species and societies in Star Trek.
Where the TV shows and films only suggest for cheap titillation value, “Broken
Bodice” takes it to its sleazy conclusions. The story focuses on the perils and
misadventures of Deanna Troi (Star Trek: The Next
Generation), T’Pol (Star Trek:
Feedback can be directed to Mickt80@hotmail.com.
EPISODE 08: BOOBY TRAP
Deanna Troi was awoken by the shocking sensation of someone slapping her bare breasts.
“Wake up counselor!” Gul Khambat greeted the startled and quickly humiliated Betazoid. The Cardassian’s grey hands flicked out to slap at the brunette’s generous titflesh, making her boobs fly on her chest and making the twenty-nine year old flinch in her restraints.
“Mmmmpphh!” she objected, finding
herself unable to speak through the gasmask strapped tightly over her mouth and
nose. Deanna’s gorgeous dark eyes glared daggers at the Cardassian and Khambat knew she was awake. He only hit her boobs five or
six times after that, grinning as the voluptuous brunette flinched in
embarrassment at her naked vulnerability.
Her throbbing breasts rising with her quick panicked
breaths, the beautiful dark eyes of the
Her arms were bound behind her back, forearms held horizontally and parallel to each other. Even restrained as she was, there were two more straps holding the counselor in place: one running above her luscious breasts and one running tightly below, squeezing her milky tits and making them thrust upward all the more prominently. The words “FOR SALE”, the humiliating reminder of her time as a slave on Ferenginar, were in full view of her captor. Deanna rolled her dark eyes at the indignity of her position, nude and bound in place.
A series of slapping sounds to her left made Deanna look over. Unable to turn her head thanks to her restraints she could only peer out of the corner of her eye. To her dismay she saw the Vulcan T’Pol, likewise naked, masked and restrained to a frame, the words “FOR SALE” on her breasts quivering after the most recent tit-slap. “Wake up, oh Mother of the Federation!” Gul Khambat taunted as he slid his hand down over the woman’s bare snatch and cruelly pinched T’Pol’s vulnerable pussy lips.
“Hhhhhhhnnnn!!!” T’Pol arched her back against her restraints, nipples shivering on the mounds of her breasts as pleasure spiked through her conditioned body. Her eyes opened wide, her scream of protest turned into a muffled moan by the mask over her mouth. Satisfied the Vulcan knew where she was and was suitably humiliated by it, Khambat moved on to the third captive.
Deanna peered out the right-hand corner of her eye, already knowing what she would see. Naked, muzzled and bound helplessly to a third frame was Lieutenant B’Elanna Torres. The three of them had walked into some kind of perverted Cardassian booby trap and now they were paying the price.
“No time to sleep on the job, Maquis!” Khambat said as he grabbed the brown circles of Torres’ nipples and twisted them hard. With muffled grunts of distress, pleasure and outrage the Klingon awoke, dark eyes staring with fury at the Cardassian who continued to pull and twist her teats even after she was awake. Her gorgeous athletic body bucked and wiggled sexily against her restraints, her futile struggles only making her bound figure more enticing.
The Cardassian stepped back, rubbing his grey snakeskin hands together and smiling. “Alright, our girls are awake. Swing them upright.” On the Gul’s command the frames to which Torres, T’Pol and Troi were bound began to move, gears grinding as each woman was maneuvered upright. Their dark eyes narrowed at this deeper indignity being visited upon them as the three Starfleet officers were made to “stand” naked in their bonds before the Gul.
Khambat let his eyes wander across their naked bodies, drinking in the sight of those lovely breasts and perfectly bald little pussies. “Actually, tilt them forwards another forty degrees or so.”
“Mmmpphh!!” the three heroines objected in unison as their frames rotated a little further. Now the Betazoid, the Vulcan and the Klingon were leaning heavily forwards in their restraints, their bare breasts dangling slightly beneath their bodies, the words “FOR SALE” on their boobs quivering with their helpless indignation.
“Beautiful,” the Gul admired, seeing fresh outrage and humiliation in their eyes. “We scanned your ship Moonlight Bounty. No life signs. We know you’re all alone and don’t have anyone who’s going to come and rescue you.”
Deanna’s eyes rolled back in despair and she felt her breath quicken. Khambat smiled as he saw the counselor’s tits shift faster with her distress. “I know that this might be unsettling for you three,” the Cardassian said, was immediately rewarded by three sharp angry stares. “I don’t know why. You’ve been on far worse situations on Ferenginar. I was able to dig up recordings of your performances and I must say you did very well to wiggle your sweet asses out of there.”
Torres, T’Pol and Troi all lowered their eyes in shame. Their secret was out. Gul Khambat knew that they had escaped the slave markets of Ferenginar, had seen the “FOR SALE” signs on their tits and the “SOLD” signs on their asses. Worse he had seen video of their nude humiliation in the auction dome, their naked bodies displayed for a hundred thousand spectators.
That was nearly as bad has the realization that they had been paraded nude before Khambat’s men for their entire stay on the Persi-2 station. The horrible truth was that they had lost, and lost completely.
Khambat looked over T’Pol’s dangling breasts, his gaze catching on the “FOR SALE” sign printed on the Vulcan’s heavy melons. “I wonder if this rubs off?” He reached out and grabbed one of the science officer’s tits and vigorously thumbed the letters on her super-sensitive melon.
“Mmmpphh mmmpphhhh!!!” T’Pol objected, wiggling sexily in her restraints.
“No,” Khambat said in disappointment, continuing to fondle the Vulcan’s tit for several seconds after tears of pleasure and humiliation had popped into her eyes. He moved down the line of captives, his hand touching each set of dangling tits and leaving them swaying in his wake.
At the other end of the line he came to B’Elanna Torres’ supple treats. “I was surprised, Maquis, that the Ferengi had the courage to bid on something as dangerous as a pet Klingon, no matter how hot your species are supposed to be in the bed.” The Lieutenant jerked and wriggled in her restraints, her bare tits trembling with rage. Khambat reached out and grabbed one of those boobs like an udder, squeezing it tightly and making the dark nipple that tipped it poke straight down.
Quickly B’Elanna grew still, her eyes shutting in unwanted pleasure as her
conditioned physique responded to the intimate touch. “Although now I can see
the attraction,” the Gul said, shifting his grip from
the flesh of her tit to the nipple, stretching her brown peak towards the deck,
easing his pull, and then tugging Torres’ tit again..
“Hnnn hhnnnn hhnnn hhhnnnn!!!” the Klingon moaned through her mask, her pleasured sounds perfectly in time to the milking-like tugging of her teat.
Finally releasing Torres’ breast Gul Khambat stepped back, enjoying the sight of his nude captives as a trio. The three beauties glared at the Cardassian in helpless anger. “You’re probably wondering why I went to the time and trouble with the holographic clothing and the whole charade,” Khambat said. “Mostly it’s a blackmail ploy. It can be handy to have a few hours of embarrassing footage of Starfleet scientists in your back pocket. But you three are destined for far greater things, with bodies like those.”
The heavy-set Gul folded his arms over his gut. “I’ll keep this simple, ladies. The Ferengi would pay handsomely to have you back. So you have to give me a reason not to sell you to them. I promise you, I could have all three of you back on the auction block within three days.”
The thought of such a fate made the trio lower their eyes in misery. They had narrowly escaped their ordeal on Ferenginar but now the possibility of being returned, naked and shackled, loomed large in their future.
“My men and I have been very hospitable to you,” Khambat continued. “I think it’s time you returned that hospitality, and I don’t mean with more of that peep-show you’ve been teasing us with.”
All three women jerked in their restraints, dark eyes shooting angry looks at the Cardassian for suggesting that somehow they intended to parade themselves naked before the Gul and his men.
“So you have a choice. You can either co-operate with us like good little Starfleet girls, or you can go back to Ferenginar. If you want to co-operate, say yes.” Khambat looked at the three masked and muzzled women for a moment. “And if you can’t speak, just nod your heads.” Again the strapped-and-restrained women could not reply.
Khambat grinned at them. “Alright then, just shake your tits.”
The Klingon, the Betazoid and the Vulcan closed their eyes at the indignity of what the Cardassian requested. But the three helpless heroines had no alternative. Their bare shoulders shifted in their restraints, hips shifting as they obeyed. Gul Khambat smiled at the sight of Deanna Troi, T’Pol and B’Elanna Torres shaking their bare breasts in defeat, three sets of tits wiggling in a mouthwatering display.
“Lovely. Loke, Daus, get in here!” The brig entrance slid open at the two Cardassian officers tramped in, already grinning at the gorgeous view. “You can take the Vulcan and the Klingon down to the mess hall and make sure they’re well fed, then get them to the sonic showers. They’ll be staying with us for a while.”
B’Elanna and T’Pol swallowed and wet their lips as their masks were removed from their mouths. Quiet in their shame they did not resist as they were released, their long legs stretching to touch the deck as they were lowered from the frames. The Cardassians left their captives’ arms shackled behind their backs, allowing little chance of resistance.
The Klingon engineer and the Vulcan science officer were pulled upright and marched towards the door, each suffering a Cardassian’s hand hard against her ass. This forced each woman to lean back as she walked, better flaunting their long legs and flashing their bald pussies, while heightening the humiliating jiggle of their tits.
Deanna Troi heard cheers from outside the chamber as B’Elanna and T’Pol were marched out, naked but for their shackles. There must have been other Cardassians outside, eager for another view of the three beauties.
Then the counselor groaned as Khambat
undid her mask. “I know the USS
Enterprise is posted a long way away from here, counselor. I might ask how you got to be here, but I’ll let you
keep that one little secret. You’ve got so little else to hide from me,” he
smirked, admiring the view of the Betazoid Commander’s voluptuous naked figure.
“What are you going to do with me?” Deanna asked, breathless in her trepidation.
The Cardassian smiled at the helpless young woman under his
power. “You are counselor Deanna Troi. Your place is
on the bridge.”
+++++
The Betazoid bowed her head, her dark hair falling around her beautiful pale features as she looked down the white valley between her breasts down to the bald perfection of her hairless pussy.
Deanna Troi had once been one of the command staff of the USS Enterprise. She had practically been a fixture on the powerful vessel’s bridge, always at the Captain’s side, her Starfleet training and Betazoid senses aiding the Federation flagship in any number of vital missions. But now, instead of sitting demurely with her hands in her lap and her curves wrapped in a casual catsuit or a Starfleet uniform, Deanna Troi sat nude on Persi-2’s bridge, her wrists shackled tightly behind her back.
The walk to the station’s command centre had been humiliating. Khambat had kept a hand in her thick dark hair, forcing the Betazoid to turn her naked body to every Cardassian he passed, flaunting her nudity to his officers and crew. Now she waited, naked with her head bowed, sensing the eyes of the bridge crew on her mouthwatering curves as she awaited the Gul’s next cruel game.
“Sir, the comm line is ready,” one of the Cardassians reported without taking his eyes from the trembling globes of Deanna Troi’s breasts.
“Comm line!?!” The Betazoid’s dark eyes widened and she straightened in her chair, horrified by the thought of her naked image being transmitted across space to some unknown receiver.
Khambat’s words were only slightly reassuring. “Keep the viewscreen sensor on me. Don’t let the lovely counselor into frame. She’s got precious little dignity left,” he said, looking down at the twenty-nine year old brunette, the “FOR SALE” sign on her breasts prominently thrust forward thanks to her shackles pulling her arms behind her back, “We wouldn’t want her to lose it all at once. Open the line.”
The oval viewscreen activated to reveal the curving
architecture of a Cardassian military office. Star-filled space could be seen
through the window in the office’s back wall, indicating that it was aboard a
ship or station. But it was the Cardassian sitting behind the desk, his eyes on
his paperwork, that had Deanna’s attention. Her breath
froze in her lungs and her bare skin trembled as she recognized the man.
“Good morning Khambat,” the Cardassian said, not even bothering to look up from his work, “I hope things are entertaining out in the middle of nowhere today.”
“You should drop by and visit,” Khambat said in greeting, “After all, you recommended me for this position. Or don’t you remember, Gul Dukat?”
The former Commander of the station Terok Nor and one of the cruelest administrators of the Occupation of Bajor, Gul Dukat finally looked up at the other Cardassian. “Even the Persi-2 post is too good for you. But I couldn’t land you anywhere lower.”
Deanna’s round brown nipples rose with a frightened intake of breath. She had met Dukat once before, during a negotiation for rights of passage through the Bajoran wormhole shortly after its discovery. The Gul’s ship had been crippled and Starfleet’s negotiating position had been strong, allowing Troi to squeeze concessions out of the Cardassian that he had been loath to make. With all hope sinking inside her the Betazoid realized just how much things had changed.
“I want you to unblock my request for transfer,” Khambat said bluntly. “You’ve got the reach to do that. I want my due.”
Dukat offered a patronizing smile. “Now why in heaven’s name would I do that? After all the trouble I went to, making sure you rotted in that pathetic excuse for a station, can you give me even one reason why I should let you move on to bigger and better things?”
“I can give you two reasons.” Khambat grabbed a handful of Deanna Troi’s hair. With a helpless yelp of protest the ship’s counselor of the USS Enterprise was forced to stand naked before the viewscreen, her curvaceous body now in frame for Gul Dukat to enjoy! “Count them,” the Gul said, reaching out to grab and squeeze the Commander’s bare breasts one at a time, “One and two.”
The brunette Betazoid rolled her dark eyes in humiliation. Her bare thighs pressed together and she wiggled, trying to turn her full chest away from the viewscreen so that Dukat would not be able to see her tits. But it was no use: Khambat easily pulled her back, the counselor’s boobs jiggling with her useless struggles.
The former Commander of Terok Nor was taken aback, his eyes widening in appreciation of Deanna’s Troi’s voluptuous naked form. He took in her imperiously beautiful features, her silky alabaster skin, the magnificent curves from her thighs to wide hips to narrow waist, the bald perfection of her pussy and the two soft, heavy melons on her chest. Dukat’s eyes lingered on the “FOR SALE” sign on Deanna’s tits.
“That’s a very convincing hologram, Khambat,” Dukat said in the end.
“Check your sensor feed. She’s no hologram.” As if to demonstrate the Cardassian reached up and gripped Troi’s left nipple and gave her sensitive teat a sharp twist. She cried out in embarrassment, feeling pleasure spark in her conditioned body, her brown nipples stiffening into hard points. She simply couldn’t believe that she was being displayed like this, her naked figure transmitted across dozens of light years to Gul Dukat’s screen!
The Gul took a moment to review the feed and then looked up, surprised. Then he eyed the humiliated Starfleet officer with new interest. “Well well, isn’t this interesting? Is she the real thing?”
“I’m afraid not,” Khambat said, sliding one hand up and down Deanna’s flat stomach, not quite reaching her breasts and coming within centimeters of her delicious slit. The woman’s dark eyes shut with trepidation as he explored her nude body. “She was advertised as a quality reproduction, probably a pattern replication like a transporter accident. She has her memories, her personality… and these.” He gave Deanna’s bare breasts another playful slap.
“This isn’t happening!” thought Troi
to herself, blushing with pure embarrassment and making another involuntarily
tit-jiggling wiggling motion. “It just can’t!”
Dukat smiled in appreciate as he watched Troi’s boobs dance. “For sale,” he read out loud. “I assume that was your idea, to make your point more obvious?”
“No,” Khambat said, turning the distressed twenty-nine year old around so that the “SOLD” sign on her round womanly ass was on display, “It’s just a way of saying our little counselor is a slut. My transfer, Dukat,” he said in a firmer voice. “I’m only going to have her here for the next week or so.”
Deanna was turned around again, forced to stand nude and full-frontal before Gul Dukat’s image. Her face pink with humiliation her eyes dropped to her own bare breasts, then rose in shame to the Cardassian’s image on the screen.
The smiling Gul spoke with patronizing fondness. “Dear Miss Troi, you must remember how much you enjoyed our last meeting.” The venomous false charm in his voice showed that he remembered the one-sided negotiations, with the Starfleet counselor holding the upper hand. Now things were very different. “You must know that I would leap at the chance to renew our acquaintance but there are many demands on my time, all of these meetings and scheduled events…”
Dukat touched a button on his desk, erasing his schedule. “And now they’re all gone. Khambat, the recommendation against your transfer will be gone within the hour. But I expect the lovely counselor will be waiting for me when I arrive.”
Troi watched with horror as her body was traded before her eyes. “I won’t be letting her out of my sight,” Khambat promised, giving her a quick slap on the ass that made Deanna hop on her toes, her tits quivering.
Before the communication line was cut Gul Dukat spoke again. “Oh, counselor Troi? I just wanted to say that I loved that little purple number you were wearing during our last meeting. Very flattering for your figure, a nice low neckline, you remember the one? Where has that outfit gone?” He smiled, letting his eyes travel up and down Deanna Troi’s voluptuous curves as she stood naked except for her shackles. “Your present look probably doesn’t meet Starfleet regulation.”
With that last insult Dukat’s
image disappeared, leaving the Betazoid reeling from the shock and shame of
what had just transpired.
“Of course not,” Khambat said dismissively. “I’m whoring you out so that Dukat will stop blocking my promotion. Then I’ll whore you out to someone higher in the chain of command who will give me that promotion. Mas, is the channel ready yet?”
Troi quivered with shame and helpless outrage. “You’re going to flaunt me to your Cardassian superiors one by one?!”
“Wrong again, counselor,” the Cardassian said as he saw Mas nod, a hand hovering over the communication panel. “I’m going to flaunt you to my Cardassian superiors all at the same time.” He nodded to his officer.
Suddenly the oval viewscreen was split into a dozen small
images, each one linking to another high-ranking man in the Cardassian chain of
command. Troi realized to her shock that she
recognized many of the faces from the many negotiations she had handled during
her time on the
Each and every one of them looked upwards and smiled at the sight of the voluptuous nude Betazoid.
“I’m guessing most of you recognize this young woman,” Khambat said, hauling the Starfleet officer in front of him with breast-bouncing speed, making her gasp and turn her face away from the viewscreen. “But in case you don’t this is counselor Deanna Troi from the USS Enterprise, or at least a transporter replication of her. The first man among you who gives me my promotion and transfer off Persi-2 gets to keep her.”
“Keep me??” Deanna shrieked, then shut her mouth tightly as she felt one of Khambat’s hands slide down between her soft buttocks and fondle the lips of her pussy from behind. Her eyes shut as she stood on the tips of her toes, trying to hold in cries of involuntary pleasure, her nipples quaking on the mounds of her generous tits.
Khambat grinned at the viewscreen even as he continued to fondle the helpless Commander Troi. “But you should know that there are twelve of you watching this message, and only one Deanna Troi. You’d better hurry up with that paperwork.”
+++++
“Open wide, Maquis slut.”
Sitting sullenly with her hands shackled behind her back, leaving her completely unable to hide her naked body, B’Elanna Torres opened her mouth and allowed the Cardassian to shovel a spoonful of icecream onto her tongue.
The mess hall was strangely quiet as Torres and T’Pol were spoon-fed. Both women were naked and shackled, sitting among dozens of Cardassians who continued to watch every inch of them. Their intent was clear in their eyes yet so far they had made no move. B’Elanna had half expected to be on her back with her legs spread by now. She had heard disgusting stories about Cardassian treatment of prisoners during her time in the Maquis and as she sat naked and bound among them she could find no reason to doubt their accuracy.
Glaring her outrage at the Cardassians around her, Torres accepted another mouthful of icecream. It was too sweet for her Klingon tastebuds and from T’Pol’s expression it was beyond her Vulcan palate as well. But the Cardassians had patiently worked them through a three-course meal and now it was dessert.
A little gasp from the Vulcan drew B’Elanna’s attention. The science officer flinched back, a spill of melted ice-cream streaking down one of her generous breasts. “T’Pol isn’t liking her dessert,” declared Loke, reaching out to grip the beautiful Vulcan by her jaw and turn her face this way and that, admiring the pout of her full lips. Beneath the flow of cold ice cream T’Pol’s left nipple was growing hard and erect, her budding peak rising nearly a full inch from the softness of her boob.
“I will not have any more,” the Vulcan said quietly, her breasts rising with her quick and shallow breaths.
“Yeah, you will.” Loke scooped the last of the ice cream out of the woman’s bowl with his hand and smeared it directly across T’Pol’s round melons.
“Aaahhh ahhhhhh!!!” The woman’s mouth opened wide in shock and distress as her sensitive titflesh was bathed in the ice cream. There was laughter from the Cardassians as T’Pol, one of the most respected women in Federation history, gasped and stared at her own cream-covered tits, shivering and shuddering at her humiliation.
“Now that won’t do,” said Daus, the Cardassian spoon-feeding B’Elanna. He looked slyly at the Klingon. “Go and clean her off.”
Voyager’s chief engineer directed a disbeliefing stare at the man. “Excuse me?”
“I said,” at which point he gripped one of B’Elanna’s brown nipples tightly and stood, dragging the suddenly gasping twenty-two year old onto her feet and leading her over to where T’Pol sat, “You’re going to clean off your lovely Vulcan friend.” He released the Klingon’s teat, allowing her to stumble to a halt in front of the naked science officer.
Meanwhile Loke grabbed T’Pol from behind, gripping her arms and lifting the nude Starfleet Commander from her bench and up onto the table, sitting her down on a higher “stage” for the men to watch.
Ice cream coating her breasts, T’Pol looked up at B’Elanna with an apology in her eyes. The Klingon swallowed, her dark eyes moving left and right over the grinning and expectant faces of the Cardassians around them. Both women were shackled tightly, making resistance unlikely.
“It’s this or back to Ferenginar, ladies,” reminded Loke.
B’Elanna let her eyes travel down the slopes of T’Pol’s breasts, seeing how the white ice cream contrasted with her natural tan. They were gorgeous tits that the Klingon felt mildly envious of. She lifted her eyes back to T’Pol’s, seeing her trepidation and outrage but also something else.
The Cardassians cheered as T’Pol lay back on the table, her generous tits shifting and settling while B’Elanna stepped up onto the bench and then knelt over her. The nude Klingon leaned forward, her rump rising deliciously in the air, her boobs swaying beneath her and her dark hair falling around her face. Her pink tongue emerged from her mouth and she began to lap at T’Pol’s ice cream-covered breasts.
B’Elanna’s tongue explored the slopes of the Vulcan’s bosom, rising towards her peaks before dropping down to the slower slopes. Torres had seen T’Pol’s breasts fondled many times, too many times since they had met, but this was the first time she had been truly intimate with those two lovely globes herself. She found them to be amazingly soft and inviting, her skin silky smooth. Her tongue touched the roughness of an aureole and she felt T’Pol gasp in a breath in pleasure, her entire tit rising towards B’Elanna’s mouth.
The Vulcan was a slave to her Orion conditioning. The freezing cream and B’Elanna’s skillful tongue were spilling pleasure into her mind. She closed her eyes and moaned as the Klingon lapped at her tit, gently working until every drop of ice cream was gone. Then Torres moved to the other melon. She switched from licking to sucking, making a seal with her lips and drawing the Vulcan’s supple titflesh into her mouth slightly. The science officer moaned as B’Elanna worked on her breasts and then cried out loud as she sucked on her sensitive nipples.
“That Klingon bitch really like’s the Vulcan’s tits,” Torres heard one of the Cardassians comment.
“Can’t blame her,” grinned another in reply.
Crouching awkwardly with her hands shackled behind her back, B’Elanna had to kneel with her lean thighs straddling T’Pol’s hips. This positioned the two women’s snatches within inches of each other. One of the Cardassians must have seen the possibilities between Torres felt a hand press down on her ass quickly and firmly, forcing her to drop and bringing B’Elanna’s bald pussy into direct contact with T’Pol’s hairless slit!
Both women moaned as a shocking pleasure swelled over them. Their Orion
conditioning had heightened the sensitivity of their erogenous zones, making
the direct skin-to-skin contact of pussy lips against pussy lips a deep and
sudden ecstasy that left both women groaning and panting. Torres felt the Cardassian’s hand on her ass again, urging her to grind
against the Vulcan’s snatch, and she could not resist.
“Ooohhhh,” the two women moaned in unison. T’Pol responded, her hips rising to meet B’Elanna’s as their vaginal folds pressed against each other. “Ooohhhh!” Torres’ dark hair tickled the Vulcan’s bare breasts. “Ooohhhh!” B’Elanna sunk lower, her soft tits flattening against T’Pol’s melons, their erect nipples poking into each other’s titflesh and heightening their pleasure even further. Their faces were inches from each other, either woman able to feel the other’s warm breath on their naked skin and see deeply into each other’s eyes.
They kissed, and the Cardassians cheered. B’Elanna ground her snatch against T’Pol’s, their breasts mashing together. The Klingon the Vulcan moved in unison, tits, lips and slits meeting in soft delicious contact. Hot ecstasy swelled in both women’s bodies. The science officer’s pouting lips kissed deeply of the engineer’s mouth, tongues meeting, lips parting only briefly to pant for air before kissing again. And all the while their pussies pressed intimately together, clitorises rubbing, hearts racing as they grew nearer and nearer to climax.
As their plateau neared B’Elanna sat up sharply, flicking her dark hair back, her breasts jiggling on her chest. Both Torres and T’Pol cried out loud, their tanned bodies tensing as they ground their hips together, moist pussies rubbing against one another’s with fast and furious friction. The Vulcan arched her back, tits quivering on her chest, while B’Elanna flicked her head left and right making both her bare breasts and her dark hair fly.
They climaxed with a combined cry of pleasure and defeat, their moment of passion watched and enjoyed by the Cardassians around them. B’Elanna slumped forward over T’Pol’s naked body, the two nude and shackled Starfleet officers meeting cheek-to-cheek and tit-to-tit.
“These two bimbos sold for more than five hundred bars of latinum between them,” Loke said, shaking his head at the spectacle he had just witnessed. “I can see why.”
“They should have been sold as a double act,” joked Daus, grabbing B’Elanna by
one arm and pulling her off the panting Vulcan. Torres’ bare breasts bounced
across her chest as she was made to lie tits-up on the
mess room table, her back arching to allow for her shackled wrists. “The Gul said to take the two sluts down to the sonic showers
once they were fed.”
“They need to finish their dessert first,” Loke disagreed. A few seconds later B’Elanna Torres gasped in shock as the contents of her own bowl of ice cream was smeared across her sensitive bare breasts. Her eyes wide from yet another humiliation, the twenty-two year old sat up quickly to see the grinning faces of Cardassians all around her. “Now it’s the Vulcan’s turn,” Daus said.
Still shaking from the cold spillage on her boobs Voyager’s chief engineer leaned back and lay on the table as best as she could with her hands shackled behind her back. Meanwhile T’Pol rolled over, her long legs straddling the Klingon’s athletic figure. Torres watched in shame and anticipation as the Vulcan’s beautiful face lowered, eyes briefly meeting the Klingon’s before returning to her cream-covered tits. T’Pol’s full lips parted to reveal her tongue and she began to lick B’Elanna’s boobs, long forceful strokes that pushed her supple titflesh around her chest and made new pleasure burst in Torres’ conditioned body.
“What could possibly be next?” B’Elanna thought, her mind addled with ecstasy.
+++++
Khambat maintained a tight hold on Deanna Troi’s shackled wrists as he pushed her onward, forcing the five foot three brunette to stand on tip-toe as she walked, making each step a tit-jiggling stagger. The naked twenty-nine year old officer was pushed through a doorway and found herself in the Gul’s sleeping quarters.
A wide window covered nearly all of one wall, but that wasn’t what had Deanna’s attention. The lush-bodied brunette stared at the Cardassian’s waiting bed with horror in her dark eyes. “Oh no,” she breathed.
“Oh yes,” Khambat said, reaching around Commander Troi’s voluptuous figure to cup and lift her bare breasts. The brunette opened her mouth in a silent objection as her tits were suddenly bathed in pleasure. Orion conditioning had made Deanna Troi the perfect mate, both physically sensitive and empathically responsive. She not only felt her own body’s pleasure, but that of her lover as well.
As Khambat’s fingers found her
nipples, twiddling and twisting Troi’s teats, the
Her eyes widened in shock at the intimate touch. At that very second the counselor saw her own reflection in the wide window that covered one side of the Gul’s bedchamber. Deanna Troi saw herself, naked, trembling and moaning as her body was toyed with, the words “FOR SALE” clearly printed on her bare breasts. Thanks to her wrists being bound behind her back, her full chest was thrust forward against the hand of the man fondling and squeezing her tits. Her dark hair was a mess of curls over her pale shoulders and around her beautiful face, and her features were wracked with unwanted ecstasy.
Troi closed her eyes, enduring the pleasure building within her as the Cardassian fondled her tits and snatch, his hands firm against her softest places. The wide-hipped counselor swayed from side to side, her bottom rubbing against Khambat’s groin. For a moment there was only one hand, deep between her legs and stoking her fires, as the Cardassian unbuckled his trousers and unbuttoned his shirt. Then both hands were back on Deanna’s naked skin and she groaned in unsolicited pleasure.
“You bastard,” Troi moaned, feeling Khambat’s fingers invading her slit, “You’re going to trade me for a promotion you filthy pig! And before you trade off the goods you’re going to use them yourself!”
“Hard to resist,” the Cardassian grinned, his right hand rubbing across the Betazoid’s pouting pussy folds with sudden speed. The counselor squealed and rose on her toes, trying to free her snatch from the man’s molestations but it was hopeless. “You like that, counselor?” Khambat furiously diddled Deanna’s pussy and there was nothing she could do about it. Another minute of playing with her folds and the counselor was sinking against the Gul’s body, her legs trembling beneath her in helpless ecstasy.
Troi climaxed, her super-sensitive body making her quake and cry out in unwanted delight as her pussy clenched above Khambat’s fingers. The Cardassian prevented the counselor from falling by holding tight onto her two most convenient handholds: the globes of her milky tits. The sensation made yet more pleasure burst within the Starfleet officer’s body. Her first orgasm was still shaking through her flesh but a second was already on its way!
Maneuvering the twenty-nine year old around by her supple boobs, Khambat guided Deanna towards his bed. The curvy-bodied beauty moaned as she moved, her wide hips swaying and her thighs trembling beneath her with each unsteady step as she was pulled about by her breasts. Khambat grinned at the sight of disoriented and defeated Starfleet officer, marveling at her extraordinary beauty and at the complete control he had over her.
He turned the counselor around, embracing her from behind, gripping and lifting both of her mouthwatering tits as he deeply inhaled of her dark hair. “I think you’re ready for the main event, commander.” Troi trembled under his fingers, her ultra-sensitive body still reeling from her orgasm. With another smile the Gul pushed Troi tits-first onto his bed.
The Betazoid cried out as her soft melons took the impact. The Cardassian watched as Deanna tried to crawl away from him, wiggling erotically in her efforts. With her arms bound behind her back Troi had no hope of escape, only creating a breathtakingly sensual display as she pushed herself along the bedsheets, tits sliding on the fabric and her round ass in the air.
“No!” she groaned as she felt Khambat grab her bound arms pull her back, bringing Deanna’s round rump towards his hips and dragging the Betazoid’s nipples back along the bedsheets. Her beautiful dark eyes looked to her reflection in the wide window again. Deanna saw herself kneeling, bent forwards so that her generous tits dangled beneath her. Behind her the grotesque fat form of Gul Khambat pulled on her arms, bringing her hindquarters flush up against his hips.
Deanna’s mouth opened as she felt the Cardassian’s cock slowly part the lips of her pussy and the slide deeply into her. “You’ve got a nice tight kitty, Miss Dina,” the Gul smirked.
“It’s Deannah-ah-ah-ah!” Her bare breasts jiggled as the Cardassian thrust into her, the counselor’s udders swaying forward with each hip-banging pumping motion, nipples scraping on the bedsheets. Khambat paced himself, slowing his thrusts to give the counselor a chance to pant and wriggle around the ridged Cardassian penis buried in her vagina, watching the “SOLD” sign on her ass shake with her trembling.
He reached below the curvaceous beauty to grip Deanna Troi’s supple tits, squeezing her soft melons as he made another quick deep thrust into her snatch. Her nipples poked hard against his palms. “Relax, counselor,” Khambat said to the quivering Betazoid as he fondled her breasts, “We’re going to be here a while.”
+++++
Down in Persi-2’s sonic shower facilities B’Elanna and T’Pol found the going far less slow.
Voyager’s chief engineer yelped in rapid rhythm, her tits pressing against the transparent wall of the sonic shower cubical as the Cardassian behind her pumped his tool up into the tightness of her pussy. With one athletic leg lifted to allow the man deeper access to her snatch, B’Elanna Torres cried out with every thrust into her super-sensitive folds. Her nipples squeaked on the glass as they rose and fell with the rhythm of her fucking.
In the cubical next door T’Pol was on her knees, her head bobbing and turning as she sucked on the length of a Cardassian cock. The man’s penis was broad and ridges along its sides, giving it a cobra-like appearance and spreading the Vulcan’s pouting lips wide as she ran her tongue along its underside. The man she was fellating reached down and squeezed T’Pol’s melons as a reward for her efforts, making the science officer shut her eyes in pleasure as her soft treats were lifted on her chest.
An alarm bell chimed, signaling that the last thirty seconds of their sessions had arrived. Both men redoubled their efforts, one pumping into B’Elanna’s snatch even faster while the other took T’Pol by the back of her head and pushed his cock deeper into her mouth. The Klingon cummed hard, pussy convulsing around the Cardassian’s meat and milking him almost painfully. Seed was fired deep into Torres’ womb. Meanwhile T’Pol gagged as the Cardassian she was sucking blew his load, first in her mouth and then, after he pulled out, across her face and breasts. It was not the first time today the science officer had felt hot stickyness on her skin and it would not be the last either.
The alarm chimed again, the session completed. Letting B’Elanna and T’Pol slump limply to the floor of their shower cubicles the two Cardassians departed, stretching and grinning at their cruel victories over the two helpless Starfleet officers. Thanks to their hands being bound behind their backs they could not even tend to their aching breasts and snatches, throbbing after vigorous groping sessions they had endured at the hands of previous men.
“Those Cardassian pricks,” B’Elanna complained, rolling onto her side and letting her melons fall together thanks to gravity’s pull. “I can’t count how many of them have done me.”
T’Pol’s Vulcan memory allowed her perfect recall. “Eleven,” the science officer said as she bowed forward, her tits dangling to almost touch the cold tile floor, “Each.”
B’Elanna’s dark eyes closed in defeat, still feeling her snatch tremble and her heart race after the multiple orgasms her Orion-conditioned body had been forced to endure. “This is how the Cardassians break women,” the Maquis panted. “Ten minute sessions so the men can’t form emotional attachments to their prisoners. Five minute breaks, no chance to sleep.” She rolled over onto her stomach, feeling the cold tiles against her tits as she tried to get her feet beneath her.
A low humming sound made T’Pol look upwards, her cum-splattered tits shaking with fear. “It’s starting again,” she whispered, her beautiful eyes cast towards the ceiling.
“No,” B’Elanna moaned, “It’s too soon I’llooohhhhhh ooohhhh!!!”
Both women began to shake and spasm as the sonic shower cubicles activated. Specially tuned sound waves bombarded their naked bodies, cleaning away the seed and sweat of the last fucking session. But Torres and T’Pol were not ordinary women. Their level eight Orion conditioning made their erogenous zones particularly sensitive and the frequency of the sonic bombardment was just right.
Even as they were cleaned off they were pushed towards yet another humiliating orgasm. “No please not again I Aaaaaaeeiiiii!!!” T’Pol wailed, arching her back as she knelt, her boobs trembling on her chest. Meanwhile B’Elanna emitted an even higher shriek as the Klingon’s pussy spasmed yet again, the twenty-two year old arching her back so much that only her heels and her head were touching the floor. The two heroines climaxed in unison, pleasure bombarding their bodies and minds for a terrible thirty seconds before the cleaning process was finished.
Fresh-skinned and clean once again, B’Elanna and T’Pol fell to the floors of their cubicles panting and trembling. The Klingon’s eyes rolled in the aftermath of orgasm, then as she slowly regained her self-control she looked down at her gasping and trembling body. To her continued dismay she saw that the words “FOR SALE” were still clearly visible on her tits, despite multiple bombardments from the sonic showers.
“Vulcan,” Torres said after a minute of gasping for air, “How many Cardassians did our scan of the station pick up?”
“Not including Khambat? Forty seven.”
“Oh god.” B’Elanna groaned. “One every fifteen minutes…”
Both the Vulcan and the Klingon jerked up, breasts bobbing as the cubicle doors opened suddenly. A pair of Cardassians entered, already naked, their broad cobra-like cocks erect and eager for T’Pol and B’Elanna’s delicious pussies.
“It’s not time yet!” objected the
“Can’t you fuckers wait two more minutes?” Torres scrambled back on her bottom into the corner of her cubicle but it was pointless. The Cardassian grabbed her by the ankles, spread her athletic legs and pressed one hand against her bald pussy. “You bastard oohhh, oh you bastard,” she moaned.
The men were under standing orders to be cautious around the Vulcan and the Klingon. Even while bound their strength could make them dangerous. So each man took the time to moisten B’Elanna and T’Pol before the main event, toying with their super-sensitive slits and achingly tender breasts. Thanks to their conditioning it would only take a few minutes of groping and fondling before the Vulcan’s ice melted and the Klingon’s fire was doused.
T’Pol’s plump lips opened in a moan of pleasure as she felt a ridged Cardassian cock slide between her pussy lips. With her thighs spread wide and both her feet off the ground, the Vulcan was supported solely by her assailant as the man pushed her against the shower wall. “I love your tits, you skinny bimbo,” the man grinned as he squeezed the Vulcan’s boobs in his fingers. He began to thrust, causing T’Pol’s round rump to bang against the wall, the globes of her bare breasts jiggling with each pumping motion.
B’Elanna Torres rolled her lovely
dark eyes in pleasure as fingers worked between her thighs, diddling her
super-sensitive body to the edge of orgasm. The Cardassian
molesting her stroked her jaw and lips with his free hand, which the twenty-two
year old mindlessly suckled on. Judging her ready the man guided his dick into
the Klingon’s mouth, and was rewarded by the intense
sensation of B’Elanna Torres’ mouth around the head
of his penis. “Oh, you’re a good little Klingon
whore,” the Cardassian groaned. Voyager’s chief engineer bobbed and sucked, moaning around the
penis between her lips as he rewarded her by massaging her pussy lips and
squeezing her soft udders.
Quickly the two once-strong-willed beauties became obedient
and pliant, moaning and wriggling sexily in their bonds.
+++++
Anyone who happened to peer through the large space-side window into Gul Khambat’s quarters would have been rewarded with the view of Deanna Troi’s bare bottom.
The lovely pale posterior of the
She bobbed and wiggled, each movement causing her tits to shift together and then apart. Deanna’s eyes were shut and her cheeks flushed with humiliation as she, the daughter of the Betazoid ambassador and one of the foremost diplomatic figures in Starfleet, was reduced to sucking Cardassian cock.
Her dangling swaying tits ached from the vigorous gropings she had received from Khambat’s hands. Her arms ached from being secured behind her back, even now as she leaned forward at the waist to pleasure the Cardassian’s pole. Troi groaned around Khambat’s rod, her lips obediently working over his shaft and then around the head of his tool. The counselor’s Orion-conditioned body had been expertly programmed with sexual techniques, making Deanna Troi an exceptional bedmate. As she lifted her lips up the Gul’s meatstick she did a sexy little gyration, twisting her mouth around his cock and making her dangling boobs jiggle deliciously and the words “FOR SALE” on her breasts quiver.
Gradually the counselor realized that Khambat’s meat was slackening. Her dark eyes moved to his face and she saw that his eyes were closed, his face at peace.
“My god,” the big-breasted Betazoid brunette thought, “I think he’s fallen asleep! Took long enough!” she added in annoyance, having been sucking on the Cardassian’s cock for nearly half an hour.
Very carefully she disengaged her mouth from Khambat’s rod. Drawing in a cautious breath she kept her black-eyed gaze on her captor’s face, watching for any sign of consciousness. Then her beautiful eyes moved to the door.
Naked except for the shackles that bound her arms behind her back, Deanna Troi slipped out of the bed and moved quickly and quietly towards the exit. The door slid open at her approach. Biting her lip at the thought of walking the corridors of this Cardassian station completely naked, the Commander took in another deep breath and bravely ventured out.
But the counselor was neither quick enough nor quiet enough. She had taken one step outside the door when Khambat’s hands grabbed her shackles and pulled back into his bedchamber with boob-shaking force. “No!” she cried out, her five-foot three body spun like a doll and thrown tits-first onto the bed again.
“I didn’t know you still had so much energy, counselor,” the Cardassian gloated, his ugly heavy body squatting on the woman’s bottom, pinning the brunette to the mattress. “We should do something with all that get-up-and-go.” Troi felt a key click in her shackles and her arms were free. She thrashed and bucked and tried to hit the man sitting on top of her but pinned as she was with her tits against the bedsheets the voluptuous twenty-nine year old could offer no real resistance.
In short order Khambat had reshackled Deanna’s wrists again, this time securing her hands to the top beam of his bed. He rolled the young woman over so she was on her back and took a minute to admire the view of Enterprise’s counselor lying naked before him, hands shackled above her head and the words “FOR SALE” rising and falling rapidly on her boobs with her quick and panicked breathing. Her beautiful features showed humiliation and anger and fear, her dark eyes fixed on his face. Taking her generous tits in his hands and squeezing tightly the Cardassian wedged his cock between those lovely melons.
“No you barbarian!” wailed the defeated heroine, her voluptuous figure bucking as the Cardassian began to thrust. Humiliation poured through the counselor as she stared down at the meat thrusting between her jiggling tits. Above it Khambat’s grotesque gut pulsed with each pumping motion. The sight made Troi let off another wail of defeat.
“Now this is what a body like yours was made for!” declared the Cardassian. He squeezed Deanna’s super-sensitive tits tighter and the counselor cried out with unwanted pleasure, her legs kicking uselessly as she came closer and closer to orgasm.
Weeping tears of pleasure Deanna Troi bucked with every thrust between her breasts, rolling her beautiful dark eyes and wriggling beneath the Cardassian’s thrusting hips. Slave to her Orion conditioning, the counselor could not help but make flaunt her gorgeousness as she cummed yet again, the Starfleet officer reduced to an obedient and pleasure-wracked fuck toy.
+++++
It wasn’t easy to bypass Starheart’s decontamination systems but Mas’ persistence had paid off. The Cardassian walked onto the ship’s bridge, finding the strange ship’s interior pleasantly warm and humid. “Looks a little like a Starfleet design,” the Cardassian mused, looking over the interior. “Odd looking engine readouts…”
His eyes were drawn to a bra resting on a nearby console. Mas snorted a laugh in amusement and walked over to it, quickly finding more underwear. All told there were three bras and three panties, undoubtedly from the gorgeous trio now held captive on Persi-2.
“Who are you?” demanded a female voice. Mas turned and saw Melika, the Andorian hologram that served as Starheart’s crew interface guide. “Get out of here!” the uniform-clad teenager ordered, “You could contaminate our systems!”
The Cardassian looked up and down the blue-skinned beauty, admiring how her skintight blue-and-white uniform highlighted the slimness of her hips and waist as well as the roundness of her firm teenaged breasts. Her blonde hair was long, falling across one shoulder to cover one elastic-clad boob. “The scans said the ship was empty,” Mas said, stepping towards Melika. “So you’re what, a hologram?”
He reached out and touched her pale hair. The holographic Ensign slapped his hand away. “Photons and forcefields,” she answered snappily, annoyed at the intrusion. She settled her hands on her hips. “I told you to get off the bridge! You didn’t decontaminate and you could have carried anything onboard!”
“Since you’re a hologram,” Mas said, turning and looking around the strange bridge layout, “You must be programmed to respond to verbal commands. Computer, immobilize hologram.”
“What!” Ensign Melika found herself completely stationary, frozen with one hand on her hip and the other lifted to point with authority. Her bright blue eyes flashed angrily at the Cardassian. “This is outrageous! You’re…”
“Computer, remove the hologram’s clothing.”
The Andorian teenager gasped in shock as her blue and white uniform faded away, leaving her standing completely nude before the Cardassian! Mas took a moment to admire the view, taking in Melika’s long slim legs, trim blonde bush and firm round tits tipped with large pale nipples. One of those boobs was hidden behind her long locks, however, and the Cardassian carefully brushed the teenager’s hair aside so that he could better ogle her bare breasts.
“You can’t do this!” the eighteen year old stammered, trembling helplessly where she stood, flushing with embarrassment. “Melika to away team, someone get back here! There’s a Cardassian onboard!”
“They’re not in much of a position to help you right now,” Mas said, still admiring the teenager’s stunning figure. “Actually they’re not in much of a position to help themselves, either.”
The Ensign’s blue eyes widened. “What have you done to them?” While she was only a hologram and restricted by programming, she was also a detailed mental model of the real Andorian her personality was based on. She could feel anger and fear and helplessless as realistically as the real thing.
She could also feel pleasure. “Computer, edit the hologram’s
baseline settings to reduce her sexual threshold,” Mas
ordered with a grin, still eyeing the naked Ensign, “And increase the
sensitivity of her erogenous zones to match Orion class eight conditioning.”
Melika shivered as her “skin” suddenly became far more sensitive, her white nipples budding hard and gooseflesh rising all over her body. “What are you doing?” she said breathlessly, both terrified by her helplessness and tantalized by her body’s new sensitivity.
“Seeing how realistic your programming is.” Mas stepped up close to the helpless Melika, ducked down to settle his hands on the silky skin over her hips, and then clamped his mouth over the Ensign’s right breast. The Andorian yelped in pleasure, sucking in a breath and making her melon push forward into the Cardassian’s mouth. He gently bit at her soft titflesh, tonguing her nipple and sucking at her boob. The blonde hologram moaned and tossed her head back, her pale hair flicking around her face and shoulders. Then Mas’ other hand found her blonde bush and the tender folds beneath it. The Ensign bit her lip to hold in her cries as her pussy was fondled and rubbed and pinched.
“You taste real,” Mas said, ceasing to suck on her tit. He stepped back, leaving the holographic Andorian panting and trembling, naked and vulnerable before him. “Now then, jump up and down.”
Her blue eyes went wide with outrage. Starheart’s designers had never intended anything but a Starfleet crew to man the ship, and had not programmed her for anything but immediate obedience to those on the bridge. Melika began to jump, her long slim legs serving her well and her soft round tits serving her even better. Her boobs jolted up and down, her newfound sensitivity making the sensation incredible. “Please!” she begged, “Stop it!” Tears of pleasure and embarrassment popped into the Ensign’s eyes as she obediently jumped for the Cardassian, making her tits bounce for his amusement.
Mas shook his head at the gorgeous
sight and pulled out his communicator. “Mas
to Loke. I’m on the Moonlight Bounty.” His eyes remained fixed on Melika’s
bouncing breasts. “You and Daus get over here.
There’s something you have to see.”
+++++
Since being captured by the Ferengi trader Golga, Commander Deanna Troi of the USS Enterprise-D had been stripped naked, fondled, humiliated more times than she cared to remember and had been sold as a slave. She had fallen as far as it seemed possible for a Starfleet officer to fall.
But now she had come out the other side into annoyed boredom. She rolled her beautiful dark eyes as Gul Khambat snored, his face buried between the Betazoid’s melons. With the Cardassian’s weight on her and her vagina still stuffed with his cock, Deanna lay with her legs spread wide and her wrists still shackled to the top of the Gul’s bed.
The Cardassian let off another long snore, then mumbled in his sleep and mouthed Deanna’s tits unconsciously. Troi shut her eyes in annoyance. “At least he’s asleep for real this time,” she thought. “Time for me to do something about it. First I’ve got to get this lug off me.”
The counselor shifted her hips and tensed her voluptuous body. Taking care to move carefully Deanna began to rock gently from left to right. Slowly she built up a rhythm, shutting her eyes as the Cardassian’s meat moved inside her super-sensitive pussy. Rocking further she could feel the man’s weight begin to topple over. With one last effort she rolled Gul Khambat off her, his cock pulling free of her tightness and leaving the Betazoid biting her lip to hold in her gasp of relief.
The Cardassian continued to slumber. Deanna drew in a breast-lifting breath, looking down the naked length of her body. At least Khambat was no longer lying on her. Her beautiful dark eyes moved around the room. “He had some sort of key for my handcuffs,” she thought, “Somewhere… there!” A glint of silver on the floor drew her dark eyes. The keys to her shackles were lying on the deck only a few feet away from her!
Unfortunately for Deanna Troi, lying unconscious between her and the keys was Gul Khambat. The counselor gathered up her courage and rolled over, straddling the unconscious Cardassian’s waist. With her wrists still locked to the top of the bed she had limited freedom of movement, forcing her to lean forward over Khambat, her bare breasts swaying within inches of his face. She rolled her dark eyes at her embarrassing position.
Deanna turned her head, looking through the sexy dangle of her dark hair to where the key lay on the ground. “I’ll have to stretch,” she thought.
The lovely counselor extended one leg, reaching for the keys on the floor with her toes. Her stunning pale body posed like a masterpiece, round rump in the air, one leg folded under her for support while the other stretched back, her dark hair falling around her face and her bare breasts dangling down to brush against Khambat’s nose and mouth. “Just a few more inches…”
She lowered herself as far as she dared, the words “FOR SALE” on her boobs softly
pressing against the slumbering Cardassian’s face as
her toes caught hold of the keyring. With great care
she lifted it from the floor and slowly rolled off the Cardassian. For a second
she lay on her back, her tits rising and falling as she panted from her
exertions. She flexed her legs up and tried to flick the keys towards her face.
Instead the silver keyring landed on the pale flatness of her stomach. Annoyance showing on her imperiously beautiful face Deanna began to flex her body, arching her back with quick movements as she tried to inch the key up her lovely figure without the use of her bound hands.
With a flexing motion that made her generous tits bounce Deanna made the keys leap up and land on the slope of her right breast. Another quick motion and they rested above her shoulder, next to her face. She gathered the keys awkwardly in her mouth and then bent her elbows, pulling herself towards her bedframe-bound wrists. Now that she could reach the keys with her fingers Troi got to work on her shackles.
The sound of the lock clicking open was magic to Deanna’s ears. Finally unshackled Troi sat upright, watching the sleeping Gul with the greatest of caution. Then her dark eyes moved to the head of the bed, where she had just been shackled to, then to the Cardassian’s bare wrists, and then to the shackles she now held in her hands. A wicked smile came over Troi’s beautiful face.
+++++
Ten minutes later Deanna was squeezing herself into a maintenance closet, the cold metal door pressing against her full breasts as she held it shut. She could hear tramping boots beyond as the Cardassians walked through the corridor outside, unaware that the ship’s counselor of the USS Enteprise-D was crouched only a few feet from them with only a millimeter of aluminum protecting her lush naked body from their eyes.
Once they were gone the raven-haired commander slipped out of concealment, her curvy
body crouching low in her caution. She stayed low as she quickly and quietly
advanced, her “SOLD” ass wiggling with her steps and the words “FOR SALE” on
her breasts swaying left and right with each sexy step. She crept further along
the corridor, keeping her empathic senses tuned for the presence of other
Cardassians. The last thing she needed was to be spotted, but her psychic
abilities had served her well so far, warning her in advance of approaching men.
A voice over the station’s speaker system made Deanna leap. “Alright, the round is finished. Report to the mess hall for the next ticket draw.” The Betazoid wasn’t sure what they were talking about but she had other things on her mind.
Commander Troi’s destination was the station’s computer core. She had visited it only briefly during her tour of the station but it wasn’t difficult to find the way. Her biggest risk was discovery. With the push of a button on the wall she summoned a turbolift, the last step in her trip to the computer core. As it came up she closed her eyes and concentrated all of her Betazoid talents on the ascending cabin. She could sense no Cardassians within. The open-fronted elevator arrived and the nude counselor scampered in, her bare bottom wiggling sexily.
Immediately her boobs lifted on her chest and her feet left the ground. “Low gravity!” Deanna cursed, grabbing onto one of the handrails to hold herself still and pull her feet back to the deck. Trying to ignore the wobbling and dancing of her bare breasts the brunette hit the button for the computer core and felt the cabin shift around her, making her tits leap upwards as she descended. The counselor watched the level display closely.
Then shock and fear came over her expression as she saw that the cabin was slowing down, and she was nowhere near the computer room yet. Someone else had called the turbolift and now it was going to pick up passengers! Her dark eyes turned to the open-front of the cabin, which would offer absolutely no concealment from anyone entering, then down to her own bare naked body.
“I can’t let them see me like this!” the bare-naked Betazoid whispered. “I can’t let them see me at all!”
+++++
Daus and Loke waited outside the turbolift, idly watching the level display that showed the cabin approaching their floor. “So who’s your favorite?” Loke asked, “The Klingon or the Vulcan?
With a rough mechanized sound the open-fronted cabin arrived, settling on-level with the deck. Their magnetic boots clicking on the metal the two Cardassians stepped into the apparently empty turbolift cabin. “Stupid question,” Daus answered as he hit a button, directing the lift to take them to the docking hub. “That Torres slut of course. If I’d have known there were Maquis that hot I might have joined them myself!”
“But she’s a Klingon,” Loke said with a grimace.
“You’re fucking crazy if that’s your problem with her. She goes wild when you squeeze her tits. Perfect ass and thighs and a great hip-grinder when she comes. I suppose you’re more into that Vulcan bimbo, then?”
Loke nodded with a grin. “She’s perfect. There’s nothing like those plump lips working over your cock. And her tits!” He lifted his hands to his chest, simulating the shape of T’Pol’s breasts. “She’s got just the right amount up top. Practically overflows in your hands but she’s still firm. And those fucking legs.”
“B’Elanna’s tits aren’t small, you do realize that,” Daus pointed out. “T’Pol is skinny.”
“You can’t look at T’Pol’s tits and say she’s skinny!” Loke retorted.
“Except for her tits, she’s skinny. A titpole, a pole with tits on it. I’ll bet ten bars of latinum that I’m not the first to say it, either.”
“Very funny,” the Cardassian said. “Say, what about that Betazoid? The Gul’s been keeping her all to herself.”
Daus nodded. “And I can tell why. That Betazoid slut is a real prime piece of real estate. She’s supposed to be some kind of high-and-mighty Starfleet diplomat or something.”
Loke smiled wickedly. “Not anymore, she isn’t.”
If either of the Cardassians in the low-gravity turbolift had looked upwards they would have seen Deanna Troi spreadeagle against the cabin’s ceiling, her body exposed from bald pussy to bare breasts. Her boobs jiggled with the inertial shifts of the turbolift as it moved and her hands and feet were pressed hard against the very tops of the walls. It was only the zero-gravity in the turbolift that allowed her to stay suspended above the Cardassian’s heads, her dark eyes wide as she watched ever-terrified that one of them might glance upwards.
“Skin like white marble,” Daus was saying. “Nice curves on her, gorgeous ass. And breasts, well…”
“They looked real soft too,” Loke said, gesturing with his hands, not realizing that Deanna Troi’s breasts were hanging mere inches from the top of his head. “Big nips, I bet they’d be fun to twist around. I’d like to see that arrogant bitch squeal.”
The turbolift reached their floor, nearly dislodging Troi from the ceiling with its jolting halt. The doors opened and Daus and Loke departed. “Maybe the Gul will get tired of her in a few days. It’d be great to have all three of them going for it in the mess hall or the sonic showers…” The turbolift doors shut and the lift continued on its way.
With a sigh of relief the nude Betazoid pushed herself back down to the floor, righting herself in the zero gravity. Her beautiful black eyes saw from the level display that she was only seconds away from her destination: the station’s computer core.
Her empathic powers heightened by the same conditioning that had made her a compliant sex-slave, Deanna Troi focused her thoughts and sensed no presences in the core room. Sure enough when the open-fronted elevator halted the chamber beyond was empty, its crew apparently occupied in some other activity. Troi suspected that activity had something to do with her two friends imprisoned on the station, and she was correct.
Deanna launched herself across the low-gravity chamber, her nude body gorgeous in flight, and she caught hold of a computer terminal as she passed it. Swinging her voluptuous body around she found the appropriate control console and began to tap buttons, quickly scanning the station and locking onto the locations of her companions. “If I can hook this through the transporter system,” Troi said to herself, “I can beam all of us right back to Starheart!”
Not needing to be as secretive as B’Elanna had been, Deanna scoured the station’s databases for navigational records and sensor logs. In short order the naked Commander found what she was looking for: the information on slaver routes, frequent and fairly routine trips by vessels across Cardassian territory. From the records it appeared that the Cardassian Union was well aware of the traffic: they possessed a registry of ships they would permit to cross their borders and communications logs that confirmed that they knew exactly what they were after in Federation space. It was solid evidence of complicity.
She packaged the files and transmitted them through the link to Starheart. But the busty counselor had other things she intended to find. “That barbaric Gul said that he used this holographic scam for blackmail,” the brunette thought, her bare breasts quivering in the low gravity as she tapped her fingertips on the keyboard. “He must have recordings…” She performed a quick search for her own name and found a file directory, with each entry marked by date.
TROI, DEANNA (COM)
TORRES, B’ELANNA (LIEUT)
T’POL (COM)
“You three have a date with the delete button,” the voluptuous brunette smiled. Then her dark eyes widened as she read the other names in the same directory.
SHELBY,
ROBINSON, BRONWYN GAIL (ENS)
BRAHMS, LEAH (SPEC)
NECHAYEV, ALYNNA (ADMIR)
LEFLER, ROBIN (ENS)
LOEWS, KAREN (LIEUT)
CRUSHER, BEVERLY (CHIEF MED)
JANEWAY, KATHRYN (LIEUT)
FERNANDEZ, KRISTINE (LIEUT)
“How long has Khambat been playing this abhorrent scam?” breathed Deanna, “How many Starfleet officers have been paraded naked in front of his drooling men… wait, Admiral Nechayev? Beverly Crusher?”
Our of sheer morbid curiosity Deanna hit a button and opened up the file in question. The video recorded filled her screen and, sure enough, Troi was rewarded with the sight of Beverly Crusher, the USS Enterprise’s chief medical officer.
She managed to watch three seconds of her good friend from her previous life in Starfleet walking down a corridor beside Gul Khambat, the redhead naked except for her holo-emitter boots, her pink nipples jiggling on her bare breasts as she walked. Then Troi switched it off.
“Well,” the counselor sighed, “Now I’m sure she isn’t a natural redhead.” She consigned the videos to
oblivion, deleting the files and ordering the drive to reformat.
Then, pushing her dark hair back from her bare breasts, Deanna
began searching for transporter access.
+++++
The Cardassians in the mess hall cheered as B’Elanna and T’Pol were shoved into the room. Their bound wrists were cruelly shoved forwards while their hair was pulled back. Once again the Klingon and the Vulcan were forced to walk while leaning back, exaggerating the bounce of their bare breasts while flashing their long legs and bald pussies for the amusement of the men. The two women were exhausted, their thighs trembling beneath them and their tits rising and falling rapidly with their panting.
On the main table was a large cake thick with chocolate cream. “Congratulations!” one of the Cardassians announced. “As of thirty minutes ago, T’Pol and B’Elanna Torres have fucked each and every man on the station. Except the Gul, of course.”
“Forty seven,” breathed T’Pol in dismay.
“And still you’re so tight!” Both the science officer and the engineer flinched and yelped as the Cardassians holding them grabbed at their bald snatches, feeling their narrow slits. “I don’t know if it’s because your species or your conditioning, but you two are still cock-chokers.”
“We were going to put candles on the cake but didn’t,” one of the Cardassians apologized. “Forty seven candles might set off the fire alarms. Also: very tedious to light.”
The two women were marched over to the table, their
naked bodies leered at and ogled by the men around them. With shame B’Elanna
and T’Pol realized that they knew each and every one
of those faces. Every man in the room had enjoyed their lush full figures.
“We’ll be handing out tickets to see who’ll get first go for the next round,” one of the men gloated.
B’Elanna stared at him in disbelief. “You’re going to fuck us again? What kind of monsters what are you doing?” Torres was shoved chest-first onto the cake, smearing her bare breasts with chocolate cream. As she staggered back, staring at the brown goo on her tits, T’Pol was also forced to dip her boobs into the creamy delicious mess.
“Uh-oh,” someone said. “Time for you two to clean each other off again.”
T’Pol and B’Elanna stared at each other in disbelief. Then, with a deep sigh and closing her eyes, the Vulcan lay back on the table and presented her bare breasts for Torres’ attention. The Klingon let out a weary groan and walked over to where the T’Pol lay. She leaned down to lap and kiss at the Vulcan’s generous tits, both women’s eyes closing.
Then without warning T’Pol and Torres disappeared in a burst of transporter energy!
+++++
Deanna Troi enjoyed a triumphant smile as she was transported out of the computer core and back to Starheart. Gravity took hold of her body again, pulling her tits back down to their original lovely positions as she saw the familiar interior of their ship appear around her. T’Pol and B’Elanna materialized on the deck, both women looking around with shocked amazement at their change in surroundings, both brunette’s chests still smeared with chocolate cream. But the sight that greeted the three nude heroines did not raise their spirits.
Melika was naked, her beautiful slim body bucking and jerking as her tight Andorian pussy was thrust into from behind. Her round tits jiggled as they dangled beneath her, her white nipples flicking forwards and backwards with each thrusting motion, and her pretty features were filled with unwanted pleasure and humiliation. The Cardassian behind her held the teenager’s arms back as he fucked her, forcing her to bare herself from breasts to white thatch as she was sent wailing and yelping towards orgasm.
“My god, get him!” yelled Deanna Troi with uncharacteristic aggression. The nude counselor charged the Cardassian violating her Andorian companion, trusting that T’Pol and B’Elanna would be right behind her.
But they weren’t. Before they could even try to stand they were each grabbed and pulled upright, tits bouncing. Mas, the Cardassian pumping vigorously into Melika’s holographic snatch, was not the only Cardassian on Starheart’s bridge. Loke and Daus had joined him and now held T’Pol and B’Elanna helpless. As she charged at Mas, Deanna Troi did not have the aid of her companions.
Seeing the voluptuous Betazoid running furiously at him Mas pulled his cock free of Melika’s slit with a tight wet sound and shoved the moaning Andorian straight at Troi. The two women collided, blue and white legs coming off the ground. Melika fell to the deck trembling and moaning in pleasure. Deanna rolled to her feet only to find Mas’ hand in her dark hair.
“Ow!” she cried out as she was forced to her knees, bare breasts shaking on her chest. “Ow!” she cried again as Mas slapped one of Deanna’s exposed boobs.
“Looks like we just foiled an escape attempt,” Daus said, already playing with one of B’Elanna’s brown nipples, making the Klingon wriggle in his arms as he twisted her teats. With her arms still secured behind her back the twenty-two year old could offer no resistance.
Meanwhile Loke leaned down to suck on T’Pol’s chocolate-covered tits, making the science officer moan out loud as her super-sensitive breasts responded to the intimate kisses and bites on her soft flesh. “My favorite flavor,” the Cardassian grinned, holding T’Pol around her slim waist. “So what do we do with them?”
“We take them back to the station,” Mas said, taking hold of his organ and eyeing Deanna Troi’s outraged expression as she knelt naked before him, her hands lifted to his wrist as he twisted her dark hair. “But not right away.”
He pushed his cock into the counselor’s mouth. “Mmmpphh!” the Betazoid objected as the Starfleet officer
was forced to suck Cardassian pole.
Melika slowly rolled onto her back, the teenaged Andorian’s breasts shifting deliciously. “The transporter!” she moaned, arching her back in the aftermath of her ecstasy so that her pale nipples shook on the blue peaks of her breasts, “Get rid of them now!”
Even as her chocolate-covered melons were sucked Torres drew
in a deep breath and cried out. “Three Cardassians to
transport to the station’s bridge! Energize!”
Without even the time to grab one more handful of tit the three Cardassians
vanished in a storm of blue transporter light.
Gasping and wiping her mouth Deanna crawled into the helm
control chair. “I think we’ve out-stayed our welcome!” the
B’Elanna hurried over to the engineering station, her cream-smeared melons jumping as she moved with her hands still bound behind her back. She leaned forward, tits swaying as she hit a button on her station with her tongue. “The docking clamps are still engaged!”
Meanwhile T’Pol had reached the
sensor station, the light from the displays illuminating her chocolate-coated tits.
“The station is on full alert. We do not have long before they respond to our
escape.”
From where she lay on the floor Melika called out. “Could someone tell the computer to stop immobilizing me now? And maybe, I don’t know, give me some basic computer control so I can do something next time someone strips me naked?!??”
“Computer, free the hologram Melika,” Deanna ordered, “And everyone brace yourself.”
Few pilots are good at crashes. Deanna Troi was exceptionally bad at them. Rather than pull away from the station’s docking clamps Starheart thrusted itself into them, buckling the metal and breaching hydraulic systems. Then the small experimental ship pulled away, its silver form banking as it picked up speed.
Starheart went to warp in a flash of white light, leaving the Persi-2 station far behind.
+++++
“They’re gone!” reported the Cardassian in amazement, staring at the bridge’s viewscreen.
“What do you mean, gone?” demanded the voice of Gul Khambat, transmitted from his quarters. “Where have they gone? And when is someone going to get here with keys to these damn handcuffs?”
“They’re completely off our sensors. That ship must be fast!”
“New vessel coming in,” reported another Cardassian. “One of ours, Galor class. It’s Dukat!”
“Shit!” Desperation could be heard in Khambat’s voice. “Say I’m indisposed. Do not patch him through to my quarters! Where did that Betazoid bitch put my pants?”
Loke, having been so rudely transported to the bridge, ended up being the one to take Dukat’s message after he had hastily buckled up his trousers. “This is the Persi-2 station, sir, ready to receive you.”
Gul Dukat’s face on the viewscreen revealed that the Cardassian was not impressed. “Where is Gul Khambat?”
“Indisposed, sir. He’ll be able to speak with you shortly.”
“Indisposed? Your
station is damaged and venting atmosphere, my sensor scans show no Betazoid
life forms onboard, and…” Dukat
stared at his own viewscreen in dismay. “And unfortunately Gul
Khambat has a rather large window in his bedchamber
that can be seen from space.” The horror in Dukat’s
eyes was appropriate for a man who had just seen Gul Khambat’s portly figure naked and shackled to his own bed.
“Sorry sir,” Loke said.
+++++
One week later the Persis-2 station would be surrendered to the Federation.
Evidence of complicity between the Cardassian Union and
pirate operations in the area was delivered to the Federation embassy on
Ferenginar by a mysterious benefactor. In the face of new political pressure
the government on Cardassia denied involvement or
sanction, and promised an immediate punishment for all involved. At least one
Cardassian Gul and the crew of his station found
themselves posted to miserable holes across the
+++++
Starheart’s bridge was soaked with a constant shower of soapy water, washing down every surface that might have been contaminated by the Cardassian intruders. Sitting at a console in the middle of that deluge was Melika.
Now free of the Cardassians’ control the holographic Andorian had mastery over her own form again. She could choose to be nothing but an image, or could assume a more-or-less solid shape. At the moment she was nothing but light, her white-and-blue Starheart uniform untouched by the washdown. Her pretty features considered the screen before her.
T’Pol, B’Elanna and Deanna had given her what she asked for. Melika now had greater control over the ship’s systems, as well as discretionary power to ignore orders from people she did not have tagged as superiors.
But it was the item at the very bottom of the list of modifications that had her attention: the option to return her body’s sensitivity levels to normal. The Cardassians had modified her baseline settings, cruelly enhancing her erogenous zones and dropping her pleasure thresholds to that of a woman conditioned to be a sex-slave. Now, with a push of a button, she could undo that.
Melika looked at the screen and decided not to decide. “Maybe tomorrow,” she murmured, leaning back with her arms spread. With a snap of her fingers her uniform disappeared, and with a wiggle of her cute nose she assumed as solid a form as the holographic teenager could. The falling water could now touch her super-sensitive body.
Hundreds of tiny droplets tantalized her naked blue skin,
caressing and stimulating her. The eighteen year old arched her back, feeling
every drop that shattered on the slopes of her firm blue breasts. “Maybe next
week,” she moaned, sliding her hands up her stomach to her tits and squeezing
them, then running her hands back down to her inner thighs and pressing her
thumbs against her slit. “Maybe never.”
+++++
B’Elanna Torres walked into the decontamination chamber, the Klingon unconsciously assuming a conditioned sexy strut that exploited her curved hips and the softness of her tits. Her boobs bounced within her bra with each step. “T’Pol, you said you needed me… T’Po!,” the Klingon breathed in astonishment.
The second-in-command of the NX class
But the twenty-two year old immediately noticed that something was different. T’Pol’s generous melons, which had previously bore the words “FOR SALE” printed in black ink, were clean of any such writing. The Vulcan slowly turned, revealing to B’Elanna that her bottom too was now free of the word “SOLD”.
“How?” Torres asked breathlessly, on hand lifted to press between her own bra-clad melons.
T’Pol lifted a tiny square of cloth. “I have been experimenting with different chemical treatments, but the solution was in a simple microwoven texture that bonded with the synthetic pigments. I was a science officer before I was a sex slave,” the Vulcan added, the tiniest hint of a smile curving the edges of her pouting lips. She looked up and down B’Elanna’s taut athletic figure. “I thought you would like to clean up.”
Torres advanced, unclipping her bra and letting it drop away from her soft breasts. Her hands slid her panties down her hips to mid thigh, baring her bald pussy. Lifting her feet on her next two strides she peeled the garment off entirely and discarded it, standing naked before T’Pol.
The Vulcan offered the wash cloth to B’Elanna. The Maquis Lieutenant looked at it, then her dark eyes lifted to gaze into T’Pol’s. “No,” she breathed, “You do it.” Torres’ breasts rose with a quick excited breath, mirrored by the sudden rise of the Vulcan’s tits as she regarded the Klingon with new interest. Her plump lips parting in anticipation T’Pol lifted the cloth and gently touched it to B’Elanna’s bare breasts.
Carefully T’Pol rubbed at Torres’ tits with the cloth, gently scrubbing off the words “FOR SALE” letter by letter. The twenty-two year old inhaled deeply as the rough contact across her sensitive breasts created wonderful sensations. Her back arched and her dark eyes rolled slightly in pleasure. Left and then the right T’Pol cleaned off B’Elanna’s bare breasts, cleaning her tanned mounds of any reminder of their humiliating time on Ferenginar.
Torres turned around, a graceful and slightly shy movement as she offered her bottom to the Vulcan. She tilted her head, dark hair falling across one shoulder as she watched the T’Pol kneel down to gently rub the cloth over the Klingon’s firm buttocks. The science officer’s eyes rose, watching B’Elanna’s expression closely for her approval.
When the job was done T’Pol rose and B’Elanna turned, the two brunettes standing with their breasts practically touching, their faces within inches of each other. Torres’ dark eyes dropped. “I think you missed a spot,” she hinted with a teasing grin. Again T’Pol’s full lips almost smiled. Her hands lifted to B’Elanna’s bosom as she leaned in, her pouting lips opening as they touched Torres’ mouth.
They kissed, soft lips meeting warmly and gently. B’Elanna let her hands slide around the other woman’s slim frame, running down over the curve of her ass and then up her back until her fingers were in T’Pol’s short dark hair. The Vulcan’s touch was more intrepid, first starting at Torres’ hips before sliding up to cup and lift Torres’ tits. All the while they kissed and gently bit at each other’s lips, heads tilting left and right, eyes closing in shared pleasure.
T’Pol knelt down, planting a line of kisses that went down B’Elanna’s collarbone, over her left breast, across her stomach and finally played on the sensitive skin around her delicious slit. Her hands stayed on the Klingon’s tits, gently squeezing, feeling Torres’ stiff teats poke against her palms. The twenty-two year old lifted her face and moaned as she felt T’Pol plant a single kiss just above her clitoris.
Then she saw Deanna Troi standing in the entrance of the decon room and gasped in embarrassment. T’Pol turned, still kneeling before B’Elanna with her full rump pointed at Troi. Both women flushed as their guilty little playtime was revealed.
The voluptuous Betazoid lifted her hand to her pale chest, where the words “FOR SALE” peeked out of the top of her bra. “You can’t hide much from an empath,” she said softly, and pulled the shoulder straps of her bra over her arms and let it fall around her wide hips. “Not one who knows you two so well.” Her panties came off next, Deanna’s generous melons jiggling as she wiggled her bottom, pushing bra and panties down her legs.
B’Elanna and T’Pol’s mouths opened in breathless surprise, eyes drinking in the sight of the gorgeous nude counselor. “We didn’t think…”
“I’m a Betazoid,” Troi said, lifting her feet out of her underwear as she approached her two lovely companions. “Let’s just say my all-girls high school dormitory wasn’t always used for sleeping.” She smiled wickedly as Torres and T’Pol welcomed her into their arms, the three women’s naked bodies coming together.
T’Pol stood behind Deanna, the hard buds tipping her breasts poking the Betazoid’s back as she kissed and bit at her bare shoulder and neck. Meanwhile B’Elanna rubbed at Troi’s tasty tits with the wash cloth, removing the embarrassing signs of her time as a slave on Ferenginar. Then T’Pol took a turn washing the word “SOLD” off the counselor round bottom while B’Elanna bit and kissed and sucked on the Betazoid’s breasts, making the most of Deanna’s soft, supple titflesh and making the counselor moan and arch her back.
The three Starfleet officers sunk to the deck, arms and legs intertwining, lips softly meeting, breasts mashing together and hands seeking out the softest and most sensitive places to carress, tickle and occasionally twist.
Their Orion conditioned bodies made each officer a pliant and receptive lover. Within a few minutes all three of them had experienced their first orgasm of the evening, but it would be far from the last. Rolling and fondling and kissing and moaning, T’Pol, B’Elanna Torres and Deanna Troi made love until each lay naked, panting and exhausted on the deck of the decon room.
TO BE CONTINUED
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