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 09: THE SOUND OF HER SQUEALS
With shocked eyes and trembling lips the girls stared around them at the crowd that filled the Auction Dome. There were more Ferengi in this building than any of them had seen in their lifetimes, or had ever hoped to see. The arena was huge with rows and rows of seats rising high around them, each offering an excellent view of the dozen Trill girls as they were marched towards the center of the stadium.
Each of the young women wore an outfit made of light white fabric, with no holes for the arms or legs. It was just a white sleeve that covered them from neck to foot, narrow enough to hug their figures and hint at the slim long-legged bodies beneath. Nipples poked against the sheer material, bobbing slightly as the girls advanced.
In the lead was a diminutive slimly built eighteen year old with shortly cut dark hair. Like her companions she gaped at the enormity of the stadium with her wide blue eyes. Trill spots traveled down from her temples down her neck to disappear into her sheer one-piece smock. From the awkward way she and the others were moving it was clear that each girl was bound in some way beneath their coverings, unable to place their hands over their breasts to prevent their nipples from poking against the material, creating a tantalizing peep show.
Waiting for the Trill captives in the middle of the arena was the man that owned them, a leering Ferengi named Feller. The leading girl couldn’t match his gaze, lowering her eyes. The humiliation of being inspected by him was fresh in her mind. The threat of worse from him and his men had kept the dozen Trill girls quiet and obedient so far. But that obedience had only brought them here: they would be sold as slaves to the highest bidder at the Auction Dome of Ferenginar!
The eighteen year old Trill gasped as the dome above them was suddenly filled with a massive holographic reproduction of herself, staring up with wide blue eyes and her cute little mouth slightly agape. She was shocked to see how prominent her teats were through the sheer white garment she wore: every single man in the stadium would be able to see the shape of her erect nipples!
“These pretty little things are lot number ten tonight,” Feller said, his voice amplified by a microphone at his collar. “They’re going wholesale, with the lucky bidder walking away not with one, two or three teenaged Trill girls but twelve!” The holograms in the sky zoomed out, providing a view of the full dozen shivering and wide-eyed teenaged girls.
There was only a mild murmur of interest from the crowd. While the girls on
display were pretty and many had good bodies visible even through their
garments there were no true stunners. Even the eighteen year old in the lead,
who possessed a pixie-cute face and a slim build, wasn’t quite heavy enough up
top to draw their interest, which was probably why the twelve girls were
selling wholesale rather than individually.
“All under twenty, none joined, and none of them Federation citizens!” Feller grinned. “These girls were picked up in the Sappora system, which has declined Federation membership in favor of greater trading freedom with Orion and Ferengi interests. So there will be no Starfleet ships flying to the rescue of these fair damsels.”
The short-haired girl in the lead shut her blue eyes in despair. The Ferengi was correct. For a moment the eighteen year old cursed her mother for choosing to live on Sappora for the sake of the family business. Then she flinched and trembled as Feller grabbed and squeezed her breasts through the thin garment she wore.
“Here, gentlemen,” the Ferengi said as he massaged the teenager’s tits, “Is the cherry on top. Many of you may have heard of Yanas Tigan, a shrewd and clever female Trill who runs a pergium mining operation in Sappora. For the last few years she has halted Ferengi attempts to expand our operations in the area. But I suspect you didn’t know that Yanas is a proud mother.”
The Ferengi smiled at his captive, then gripped the neck of her outfit tightly. “I present to you Yanas Tigan’s eighteen-year-old daughter Ezri!” He tore the garment away and Ezri Tigan stood naked before tens of thousands of Ferengi spectators.
The eighteen year old gasped in humiliation. Her nude figure was displayed as several enormous holograms in the void of the dome above her, every inch of bare skin exposed to the crowd. Ezri Tigan was a slim and pretty young woman with trim thighs and a firm tight bottom, shown in the sky in magnified detail. Her breasts were not large but they were deliciously shaped, tasty handfuls topped with round pink nipples. Her Trill spots that traveled down from her collar bone, over the outer slopes of her breasts, down her waist and hips to run down her lovely legs. Above her teenaged snatch was a light dusting of dark hair, a little arrow pointing to her most secret of places.
Ezri stared at the holograms of her bottom, breasts and pussy, all displayed for every man in the stadium to see, and could have cried with embarrassment. She quaked, her slim thighs trembling beneath her bare pussy and her nipples quivering on the tips of her tits.
Beneath her garments the teenager’s wrists were bound behind her back, preventing her from any attempt to cover her nudity. Even so she twisted and struggled slightly but only succeeded in making her cute little boobs bounce on her chest.
Feller moved down the line, stripping away each girl’s covering to reveal the trembling and blushing teenager beneath. Twelve pairs of breasts were revealed, quivering with their humiliation. A dozen asses were exposed as well as twelve teenaged pussies, thighs pressing together around their snatches in a futile effort to regain at least some of their modesty.
But it was Ezri Tigan, the daughter of the mining magnate, who remained displayed as a hologram in the sky, her completely naked body visible to all. The cruelty and embarrassment of her treatment made the slim young woman quiver in her bonds. Then she gasped as Feller, returning from stripping the other girls, reached out and took hold of one of Ezri’s bare breasts once again.
“Cute little thing, isn’t she?” he asked, flicking his fingers across Ezri’s left nipple. The teenager shut her eyes in shame as the Ferengi’s orange fingers took firm hold of the stubby tower of her teat. “Young and fresh as you can get,” he added, twisting Ezri’s nip in his fingers, making the girl squeal in distress.
She opened her blue eyes and was rewarded with a view of her own teat being twisted on her breast, the holograms in the sky showing her humiliation. “Does your mommy know about the trouble you’ve been getting into, Ezri?” Feller asked, pulling on Ezri’s nipple and stretching it to her great distress, the eighteen year old arching her back and wiggling as her boob was pulled. “Would you like to go home to mommy now?” The teenager fought the urge to scream yes, arching her back even further in shame and discomfort.
Feller released Ezri’s teat and stepped around the naked eighteen year old, then took hold of her other tit. “Imagine how nice it would be if little Ezri here could be reunited with mommy dearest,” the Ferengi suggested, fingers twisting and playing with her right teat. “Imagine what trade concessions she might give up in order to get her prodigal daughter back. Ezri isn’t just a cute handful of play with. She’s a business opportunity.” To clarify the point he slapped the teenager’s ass, making Ezri yelp and jump, her boobs bouncing.
“But Ezri is just the cherry on top. Now is your chance to own a dozen lovely innocent Trill girls, all ready to be shown a woman’s place in the world. The bidding starts at ten bars of gold pressed latinum.”
Ezri drew in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She was unaware that in the sky above her image also deeply inhaled, making her cute little titties rise and fall deliciously. She couldn’t believe the disgraceful treatment she had received over the last two days, let alone the shameful idea of being returned to her mother naked and shackled.
“Twenty bars from Silver Brothel. They’re always on the look
out for talent. Thirty bars from Distant Star pleasure cruises! I’d love to see
these twelve girls waiting tables, or bedrooms, on one of your voyages! The bid
is thirty bars, are there any challengers? Forty bars from Moonlight Bounty!”
Lifting her eyes to watch the bidding number in the sky grow Ezri was mortified by the names of these companies that were trying to buy her and the other girls. “Silver Brothel?” she thought with horror. “Pleasure cruises? Moonlight Bounty? They’d only use us for one thing!” she despaired.
“Sixty bars from Mister Torfik. Now people are seeing the potential! Did I mention that Trill spots are especially sensitive?” Feller reached out, sliding his hand up Ezri’s naked side from her thigh to her breast, rubbing along the tiny brown dots on her fair skin. The Trill gasped out loud, her cute boobs rising as she inhaled with shock. Then she bit her lip as the Ferengi’s fingers found her teen slit, rubbing the lips of her pussy. Pure humiliation made tears pop into her eyes as she was fondled in front of an audience of a hundred thousand.
Feller grinned as the bidding leapt upwards. “One hundred bars from Silver Brothel! A most wise investment good sir! And Lady Papilia offers a hundred and twenty!” The Ferengi’s hand left Ezri’s snatch as he continued to commentate on the bidding. “And the trader Mox takes the bid with a hundred and thirty! Always on the lookout for talent is the respected trader Mox!”
Ezri was panting and flushing with shame and distress. A sharp slap on one of her tits made her cry out again, her high-pitched squeal amplified across the entire stadium. “Young, fresh, naďve and ready to be broken in!” declared Feller, “Surely there is a buyer willing to take on the duty of … thank you Lady Papilia, one hundred and forty bars!” With wide eyes Ezri stared as she and her fellow Trill were auctioned.
Feller lifted his hand. “Going once. Going twice. Another bid from Moonlight Bounty of one hundred and fifty bars! That’s cutting it close. Does Papilia want these dozen tight little Trill sluts enough to pay a hundred and sixty? Is there another bid? Once. Going twice. And sold to Moonlight Bounty for one hundred and fifty bars of gold pressed latinum!”
Disengaging his microphone Feller stepped back, running one hand down Ezri’s tummy to fondle her vulnerable snatch. “Pleasure doing business with you Miss Tigan,” the Ferengi grinned, diddling the gasping Trill’s tender folds before moving on, leaving the eighteen year old standing in the center of the Auction dome, naked, shackled, humiliated and sold.
+++++
Moments later Ezri and the other eleven Trill teenagers were being led out of the Dome under Feller’s watchful eye. As each girl past the leering Ferengi took the chance to pat bottoms, fondle breasts and run his fingers over bare pussies, one last taste of the dozen naked girls he had just sold into slavery, leaving the teenagers whimpering and trembling. Ezri made another tit-bouncing jump as she was slapped hard on the ass as she passed.
The twelve girls were lined up outside on the street for inspection. Ferenginar’s humid atmosphere had produced another heavy downpour, within seconds dousing each of the girls from head to foot. The trim teenagers trembled in the cold, nipples becoming erect on their firm breasts and slim thighs pressing together as they endured the chill. Worse were the spectators: passing pedestrians eyed the dozen girls with interest, taking advantage of Ferengi cultural laws that forbade women from wearing clothing.
Ezri shut her eyes as she stood naked and shivering on the footpath. Hard droplets of rain stung her pale skin, water running down her naked figure, tickling and stimulating her Trill spots. Not for the first time she wished for some way to at least cover her nudity but there was no hope of that. With their hands still cuffed behind their backs they had no way of regaining even the tiniest shred of modesty. On this planet Ezri was just a body to be leered at and groped, valued for beauty alone, her slim legs, round ass and lovely tits displayed for all to enjoy.
“Taking possession of lot number ten,” said a female voice touched by an eastern European accent, “We’ll need a thumbprint to verify transfer of goods.” Ezri turned to look at the horrid people who had bought her and the other Trill, presently talking with Ferengi Commerce Authority officials. The rain obscured them, turning the three buyers into grey shapes. But as they approached their new purchases they came into view and Ezri gaped in astonishment.
Walking towards her were three women. Three naked women. All they wore were boots, equipment belts slung low around their curving hips, and blue-and-white baseball caps. Each had breasts soft and large enough to make the not-yet-fully-bloomed Ezri envious. They didn’t walk as much as strut, hips swinging and tits shaking on every step.
One was tall and lean-figured, except for her generous tanned breasts. She was a beauty with a face that was regal to the point of being haughty, with sharp eyes, short hair and full pouting lips. The second was shorter but voluptuous in her hips, ass and breasts. Her silky skin was alabaster while her long hair was raven black and her eyes just as dark, with a face with an imperious cast but still gorgeous. The third was athletic with a taut stomach, firm thighs and rump, her dark hair pulled into a tail by her cap, and she too possessed soft round breasts to match those of her lovely companions. She regarded the prisoners with a strong but attractive face, dark eyes looking over the twelve nude Trill girls.
The three nude beauties drew many Ferengi eyes as they moved towards the captives. But apart from a few annoyed looks and a faint blush on the face of the shorter, most voluptuous one, they seemed to ignore the attention. “Move along,” ordered the tallest of the brunette trio, pointing with a graceful slim arm. She took the lead while her two companions followed behind the Trill slaves.
A long length of cord had been run through to the dozen girls’ wrist bindings, forcing them to walk in a broad line twelve abreast. Twelve tight teenaged asses wiggled as they walked, slim legs pumping with nervous quickness as they hoped to end their embarrassing ordeal as quickly as possible. A dozen pairs of breasts jiggled with their haste. Ezri stared at the wiggling ass of the lean, tanned woman ahead of them.
“How could a woman do this to other women?” she wondered, staring at that round rump. Their captor’s pussy lips peeked out between her trim thighs. “She’s probably another slave herself, working for whatever monster owns this Moonlight Bounty company.” Ezri had a mental image of the lean, full-chested woman leashed and kneeling before a fat Orion merchant, her plump lips open wide in distress as her breasts were grabbed and squeezed. Then the Trill teenager’s imagination substituted her own body instead, the girl shivering as she saw herself naked, leashed and moaning as her boobs were fondled.
Only a week before Ezri’s only concerned had been surviving her psychology exams and how many socks to stuff into her bra. Now her imagination was dreaming up nightmarish scenarios. The rain-soaked Trill teenager trembled in dread, imagining Gorn and Nausicaans and Cardassians and Klingons having their way with her.
As they walked onwards the dozen nude teenagers were drenched, their bare skin shining as the storm refused to let up. Neither did the gazes of the Ferengi cease, with pedestrians halting to watch youthful boobs bob and firm teenaged asses wiggle as the dozen Trill girls passed. More than once their escort halted as a passer-by made a bid for one or another of the slave girls. Ezri’s heart stopped as their captors considered each offer, and she sighed with relief every time a ‘buyer’ was rejected.
They crossed streets with gutters overflowing with rain water and waded in rivers of muck that reached up to mid-thigh, the young women flinching as the muddy water occasionally lapped at their bare pussies. While the deliciously naked party was fording one such river a Ferengi speedboat tore past, splashing them all with slime and making the twelve girls cry out in fresh humiliation. Ezri waded on, hoping the rain would wash away the goo.
She noticed that the woman in the lead had a phaser clipped to her belt. It seemed so bizarre, the woman wearing no top or pants, only that belt. “If I wasn’t tied up I might be able to do something with that phaser,” Ezri thought gamely. She leaned forward as she walked, feeling droplets of rain trickle down her naked skin, accumulating on her breasts to drip from her erect nipples.
It was a cold and humiliating thirty minute walk to reach their destination: a ship parked in a public access landing area. It was a crescent shaped craft with warp engines attached to the tips of its moon-like body and pointing rearwards. It was far too small to be a true starship and too big to be a shuttle. A hanger door in its tail end opened as the naked party approached.
“Get inside,” said the dark-eyed athletic woman, absently adjusting how her belt was positioned on her hips. The twelve Trill girls moved into the ship’s hanger, grateful just to be out of the rain but timid at the thought of what humiliations might soon be inflicted upon them.
The three women followed the wiggling asses of their naked captives inside and signaled the hanger door to close. Thanks to the cable that connected their shackles the dozen girls inadvertently found themselves lining up, unwittingly presenting a delicious line of pert teenaged breasts and lightly-furred pussies for inspection. Ezri shivered, watching their captors with frightened blue eyes. She gathered up her courage and spoke. “What’s going to happen to us?” she asked, her voice trembling with trepidation
The three beautiful women that had purchased them turned their lovely dark eyes on the teenager. Ezri shivered as the hanger door slowly closed, blocking off the view of rain-soaked Ferenginar beyond and trapping them inside the ship.
The hanger finally sealed. Then the smaller voluptuous woman spoke in her eastern European accent. “You’re all going home. T’Pol, take off their shackles.”
There was a few seconds of silence and then one girl began to cry in gratitude. Sobs and sighs broke out across the group as nude teenaged girls bowed their heads in thanks or lifted their faces to the ceiling in grateful prayers for their narrow escape.
But Ezri was skeptical. “What? You’re letting us go?”
The one named T’Pol moved along the line with a set of keys, freeing each girl from her bonds. “This is what we do,” the lean heavy-chested woman explained, the clink of falling chains accompanying her as she worked. “Although you are actually our first purchase. We should apologize for not allowing you to cover yourselves during the walk to the ship but the Ferengi would grow suspicious if we clothed those we purchased.”
“Which brings us to something you girls have to understand,” said the toned athletic one. She pulled off her baseball cap, revealing a forehead lightly ridged: she was a half-blood Klingon. “My name is B’Elanna. This is Deanna. The one undoing your cuffs is T’Pol. We’ve just saved your lives, but now our lives depend on you understanding this. You must not tell anyone what we’ve done.”
Ezri rubbed her sore wrists. “You don’t want the Ferengi to find out,” she surmised, quickly realizing the awkward position the three heroines were in. Then she took advantage of her free hands by covering her small round boobs with them.
“Ezri Tigan,” Deanna said, walking towards the teenager with deliciously sexy steps. The Trill’s blue eyes widened at the sound of her own name, and then the tasty naked eighteen year old remembered that everyone at the auction would have learned her identity. “We have to know exactly how you came to be here,” the dark-eyed beauty continued. “Where were you when you were captured? Who grabbed you? Did they say anything that could tell us about their slavery operation?”
The thought of their capture made the Trill quake in remembered humiliation. “We were on a high school field trip in the Stirap system, near Bajor. The ship was Gorn, and so was the crew.” That she remembered with dread. Through every minute that she had been a prisoner on that ship she had been terrified of one of the massive reptiles having his way with her. She had heard about the size of Gorn sex organs and had no desire to see if one could be crammed inside her. “They shot our ship and then started beaming us out. Just the girls.”
“They beamed us out of our clothing!” one of the other teenagers complained, tears of gratitude in her eyes as her shackles were undone.
Ezri nodded and swallowed in nervous memory. “I found myself in front of a dozen Gorn wearing just my socks,” the teenager admitted. “They tied us up and then they… examined us. They said we weren’t big enough up top to be good slave potential,” she added, shamefully looking down at her small but lovely boobs. But even so the Gorn had taken their time fondling her. The Trill’s tits had ached for days afterwards, as had the lovely boobs of many of her fellow teenaged captives.
“Did they take the entire crew or just passengers?” B’Elanna questioned.
“Passengers,” Ezri answered, “And just the girls from what I saw. I don’t think they took Mrs Sternmeyer, our teacher. I’m sorry, did you say your name was Deanna?” Her blue eyes took in the raven-haired beauty’s features. “Are you Commander Deanna Troi, the daughter of ambassador Troi?”
The Betazoid pulled off her cap, her curling dark hair falling around her naked shoulders. “It’s safe to say I’m close enough,” Deanna Troi answered.
The teenager’s blue eyes widened with disbelief. “I read your paper! I’m studying psychology and I read your paper on Ferengi psycho-sexuality. Honestly it was kind of overblown and exaggerated… I thought.” Her hands still over her cute little tits Ezri looked nervously over her shoulder at the hanger door. “But now it seems pretty much right on the money.”
Troi folded her arms, the posture cupping and cradling her own generous breasts ina slightly nervous gesture. “If I wrote it again today I’d be a lot harsher,” she admitted. Her beautiful dark eyes turned back to the hanger door. “It’s time for us to go. Melika will meet you in the decon room.”
“What? You’re going back out there?” Ezri exclaimed.
T’Pol and B’Elanna moved to stand beside Troi, the three nude women a spectacular sight in their belts and boots. Pulling her cap on over her dark hair again, Deanna nodded glumly. “Buying girls out of slavery is expensive. We’re going to try to get some pocket money.”
“That’s… amazing,” breathed Ezri in sudden admiration. She was astonished by the sheer courage the trio must have possessed, the audacity to walk out there, naked on the streets of Ferenginar to save girls like herself from the fate of slavery.
A blue hand touched her upper arm. “I’m Ensign Melika.” Ezri turned to see a beautiful Andorian teenager, her youthful face framed by long blonde hair with a pair of antennae peeking out of the top of the mess. Her slimly gorgeous teen body was wrapped in a skin-tight blue and white uniform.“Come on, you and your friends have to go through decontamination before you can pass through to the rest of the ship.”
The nude eighteen year old Trill allowed herself to be led over to where the other girls gathered. She looked over her shoulder, her slim waist twisting as she unwittingly showed off a lovely side-view of her right breast. “Good luck!” she shouted back to the three women that had saved her.
Melika led the dozen naked girls through an entrance in the back of the hanger. They found themselves in a pristine white chamber with a smooth tiled floor cool beneath their bare feet. “Ensign Melika,” Ezri Tigan said, “Commander Deanna Troi.”
“T’Pol also held the rank of Commander in Starfleet,” the lovely Andorian added, “And while B’Elanna Torres was expelled from Starfleet academy she was awarded a field commission with the rank of Lieutenant, chief of engineering. Just a moment, the decon systems are charging. We don’t normally handle twelve people at once.”
As the twelve nude teenaged girls milled about in the small chamber Ezri looked at Melika with intent blue eyes. “Is this some kind of top-secret Starfleet operation?” she asked breathlessly.
The Andorian rolled her eyes. “Not really.”
Her erect nipples poking against her palms Ezri looked down Melika’s white and blue Starheart uniform. “I don’t think that’s a Starfleet uniform.”
The blue-skinned blonde looked down at herself and then
rolled her eyes again. “I forgot! I must look like the odd one out.” She
snapped her fingers and her uniform vanished, leaving the Andorian beauty
standing naked among the twelve Trill. The teenagers
gaped at the sight of the Ensign’s delicious body, with long legs, a cute
bottom that her long blonde hair nearly reached, a neat triangle of snow-white
fur above her snatch and a pair of perfectly shaped breasts, not as large as
those of her brunette companions but still big enough to make the budding Ezri jealous.
“You’re a hologram?” one of the Trill girls said in amazement.
“Based on the real Ensign Melika,” the nude blonde nodded, a single gorgeous blue form among twelve delicious pink teenagers. “We came here by accident. Troi, T’Pol and Torres were captured and sold on the auction block. After they escaped they felt obligated to help free other victims of Ferengi slavery.”
Ezri gaped in astonishment. “They were slaves? My god.” She turned around, unwittingly giving Melika a view of her firm teenaged ass. “If Gorn can just cross the border like that and kidnap people we need more women like them!”
“The Gorn can’t cross the border any more,” Melika said. The lovely Andorian’s blue-skinned perfection had somehow become the center of a circle of nude Trill girls, each teenager listening intently to her story. “The Cardassians were letting them pass through their territory. Once we exposed Cardassian complicity, Starfleet had the political authority to pressure them. The border is closed.”
“Wait, you exposed them?” a blonde Trill girl said, her hands lifting to her mouth in surprise, leaving her tasty boobs bare. “You stopped the Gorn?”
“Indirectly,” the Andorian corrected. “We had to infiltrate a Cardassian base to get the information we need.”
“That is, like, so amazing!” Ezri exclaimed. “You’re like super-spies!”
Melika remembered how their misadventure on the Persis-2 station had backfired, with T’Pol and B’Elanna forced to sexually service the station’s crew while Deanna had become the Gul’s personal pet. Even Melika had been stripped, fondled and ravished by a trio of Cardassians before they had been able to escape with the information. “It’s not as exciting as you might think,” she said lamely.
But Ezri Tigan’s mind was already made up. She wasn’t sure how her psychology studies would help her, but the eighteen year old was now inspired and certain. Letting her hands fall from her cute little breasts she stood up straighter despite her nudity, finding a new strength within herself. “I’m going to join Starfleet,” Ezri thought with certainty.
Then a glob of sticky white goo splattered across Ezri Tigan’s bare breasts. “Eeewwww!” she cried out. Other girls in the chamber flinched and wailed in humiliation as blobs of soapy gel were fired from apertures in the decon room’s walls.
“Don’t worry about them, they’re just soap!” Melika said, lifting her arms for attention, her round boobs shifting together with the motion. The holographic Andorian’s mouth tightened in annoyance as she herself caught a splatter of gel across her blue tits. “Maybe I shouldn’t have made myself solid,” she murmured to herself, then raised her voice for the teenagers to hear. “Just rub it over yourselves. We don’t want anything you might have picked up on Ferenginar to get into our ship’s organic systems.”
But the girls needed little encouragement to wash themselves. Spending a day among the Ferengi was enough to make anyone want to take a bath. Soap was rubbed into foam as the thirteen young women in the decon room lathered themselves up, rubbing the gel over every inch of their firm teenaged bodies. Soon water was spraying down on them, washing the foam away, and then hot draughts of air blasted up through small holes in the floor to dry them.
Ezri Tigan ran her hands up the spots that traveled up her hips, waist and breasts, then pushed her fingers through her wind-blown hair. The teenagers unwittingly posed and stretched as they were blow-dried, their naked bodies warmed by the final stages of the decon cycle.
The blue-eyed Ezri twisted at the
waist to look over her shoulder to where she had last seen Torres, T’Pol and Troi. “Yes,” the
teenager whispered to herself as her slim nude body unconsciously struck a sexy
pose, her narrow waist turned, with her long legs spread and arms lifted, “I’m
going to be a Starfleet officer!”
+++++
The casino’s foyer was brightly lit with gold and white lamps, creating the illusion of warmth while still being cool from the building’s air-conditioning. A Ferengi attendant in a bright green uniform stood by the doorway, his eyes widening in appreciation of the view as Deanna Troi, B’Elanna Torres and T’Pol came in out of the rain.
The Ferengi ignored her. “Are you deaf, Ferengi?” the Klingon said sharply, “The rain got your ears filled up? I said we need towels!”
The attendant politely tapped the drop-box beside him. Her pretty face screwing up in annoyance B’Elanna removed a slip of latinum from a pouch at her belt and dropped it into the box’s slot. Only then did the attendant hand over three heavy fluffy towels to the three nude Starfleet officers.
T’Pol leaned forward to brush down her long slender legs. “Take comfort in that our first purchase at the market was successful, B’Elanna.” Her posture made her bare breasts dangle like ripe fruit, and presented her firm ass with her pussy lips peeking out from between her thighs to the Ferengi attendant standing behind her.
“I suppose you’re right,” Torres admitted as she dried herself. Through the thick fabric she felt the taut firmness of her tummy and then the round softness of her breasts as she cupped and lifted them with the fabric, rubbing away every drop of rainwater. “I almost panicked when I heard the bid jump to a hundred bars.” As her towel fell slightly it revealed that the half-Klingon’s brown nipples had been left hard and erect by the fabric’s touch.
“Then when it hit one hundred and forty,” Deanna added, holding the towel behind her voluptuous figure and wiggling to dry her back and round bottom. The motion made the most of the Betazoid’s wide hips and generous tits, her boobs jiggling left and right as she sexily gyrated. “That other bidder was called Papilia. Wasn’t she… after you once, T’Pol?”
The Vulcan had been drying her hips and sides. Now she lifted her towel nervously to her bare udders. “Yes.” T’Pol’s humiliating auction in the Dome had ended with her being bought by Papilia, a bizarre alien woman who had expressed an alarming interest in the science officer’s delicious breasts. “I do not like to imagine what Papilia had planned for those Trill.”
They handed their damp towels back to the now-smiling Ferengi attendant. “You will have to leave your weapons at the entrance,” he said, looking down at the phasers clipped to their hips, although the alien’s beady eyes might have actually been looking slightly lower than their belts. Troi, Torres and T’Pol had undergone sex-slave conditioning that, among other things, ensured that they did not grow body hair, giving the three brunettes perfectly bald pussies. The trio relinquished their phasers and then walked into the casino itself.
It was extravagant even by Ferenginar standards with rich carpets, enormous crystal chandeliers and gold, silver and latinum foil molded to any surface where its glitter might impress. Broad staircases allowed movement from level to level. The furniture was all the richest woods plated with valuable metals and lined with luxurious furs. In the center of the casino floor a large and elaborate fountain bubbled several colored liquids that passers-by filled their glasses from. The casino was packed with Ferengi, almost all of them well dressed with rich robes or finely tailored suits. Bejeweled rings studded fingers everywhere T’Pol, B’Elanna and Deanna could see.
But it was the women that drew the three Starfleet officers’ attention. There were no Ferengi females here, as most native women were sequestered in their homes. Instead there were a mix of species: Bajorans and Andorians and Trill and more than a few Humans. Despite their varied species they had one thing in common, and that was the uniform the casino forced their enslaved women to wear.
The outfit consisted of a pair of long bright green leggings that traveled up to mid thigh, and long sleeves of a matching color that nearly reached the shoulder, and a silver collar that indicated that they were the property of the casino. They wore nothing else. The casino’s owners had picked beauties from many races and each and every one of them was naked from neck to snatch. Breasts, bottoms and pussies were left completely bare, and from their hairless perfection of each slave’s snatch it was clear they were kept carefully groomed.
Small adhesive nametags attached to the left breast identified each woman. They also gave customers an excuse to stare at their chests.
Deanna Troi felt both outraged and saddened by the sight. Over there a pair of Bajoran girls carried trays of drinks across the casino floor, their bare breasts jiggling with their haste. Over there a Deltan was working the Dabo tables, clinging to the arm of one of the customers and urging him to make just one more bet, one more chance for the casino to take back his winnings. On an elevated stage was a quartet of blonde, blue-skinned Andorian beauties, performing a quick-paced musical piece with violins. The musicians were standing rather than sitting to better display their graceful naked bodies, and none had sheet music that might spoil the view of their unclothed figures.
“We have to do something about places like these,” Deanna thought, transmitting her coldly serious opinion to Torres and T’Pol.
“We are doing something about places like these,” responded Torres, letting the Betazoid pick the words from her thoughts. “Now let’s find a game that we can use to hurt this casino.”
The three beauties fanned out, walking among the gaming tables with unconsciously sexy strides. Even with so many barely dressed waitresses and entertainers in the casino Deanna, T’Pol and B’Elanna’s lovely nude figures drew the eyes of many Ferengi. Their saucy outfits, each Starfleet officer nude except for her belt, boots and baseball cap, earned them whistles of appreciation and silently mouthed words of delight. Troi could feel eyes running up and down her voluptuous nude figure, lingering on the roundness of her ass and the heavy swells of her breasts.
The empath was grateful that she and her companions no longer had the words “FOR SALE” printed on their chests or “SOLD” on their rumps. They had previously used body paint to cover their tits and asses but it was tedious to prepare and difficult to remove. Full nudity was more practical and comfortable, even if it humiliatingly left every inch of their bodies exposed for the Ferengi to ogle.
Walking naked among the gaming tables Deanna suddenly came face to face with a waitress. She had dark skin with African features, and wore nothing but the embarrassingly skimpy casino uniform. “Can I get you anything?” the human girl asked, offering Troi a smile of greeting.
“A glass of champagne,” Deanna said immediately. “No, a chocolate sundae with extra fudge and sprinkles.”
“Right away miss,” the waitress said, her firm brown ass wiggling as she hurried off among the Ferengi customers. Deanna caught an empathic flash of the woman’s thoughts and feelings, experiencing a burst of the shame and hopelessness that the enslaved young woman felt every day. It only strengthened Troi’s resolve to do something about this place.
“Deanna, are you listening?” came B’Elanna’s thoughts, received by Troi’s empathic mind.
“Go ahead,” replied the Betazoid mentally.
“I think the Dabo wheel is rigged.”
The twenty-two year old’s stunning nude figure was
leaning on the edge of the gaming table in question, watching as yet another
customer lost his winnings. “There’s a Deltan girl triggering some kind of
device under the table. She keeps on touching the table leg with her knee,” she
added, watching the beautiful bald young woman in question as she clung to the
arm of one more losing gambler, urging him to keep playing as she pressed her
bare breasts against his shoulder. This was the role of a Dabo
girl and her mouthwatering figure aided her well.
“Then we stay away from the Dabo wheel,” T’Pol answered in her mind, the psychic Deanna serving as a relay between her two companions.
“No. I think I can beat it,” B’Elanna thought, the athletic twenty-two year old moving over to join the Ferengi men gathered around the Dabo game. “I’ll take a few spins.”
+++++
While Torres waited for her turn at the Dabo wheel, T’Pol found herself walking towards the four Andorian girls playing their violins on the central stage. It was a quick and playful melody and their skill was obvious, not just in that they were playing without sheet music but in how they changed roles. Each of the girls would take a turn leading the melody for a few bars, putting their own personal twist on the song before sliding back to the supporting role, letting another young woman take over.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” a nearby Ferengi said, enjoying the view of T’Pol’s luscious nude figure from the side, the slope of her breasts, the slimness of her waist and the curve of her bottom well displayed.
The Vulcan lifted an eyebrow. “I was curious if they were trained to play or collected as they are.”
The Ferengi grinned, plucking at the lapels of his expensive coat. “Don’t you recognize them? They’re the Aenar Sisters. They aren’t actually Aenar,” he added apologetically, “Or sisters, but they used the name while they were performing in the Federation. Playing classical music since they were little girls, and they turned into a beautiful set of nineteen year olds. Sadly, they’re not as much of a lure as I hoped they would be.”
The four Andorian women were playing with their eyes closed. In a moment of insight T’Pol realized that they were refusing to look at their surroundings. With their eyes shut, the four Andorians could imagine themselves anywhere, the music carrying them back to a time before they were slaves on Feringinar.
T’Pol’s regal features turned to the Ferengi. “You are the casino’s owner?”
“Co-owner. The name’s Dakley,” the little creature said, offering a hand to the far taller Vulcan woman and eyeing how her bare breasts swayed as she shook his hand. “You are…?”
“Hoshi Sato of the Moonlight Bounty delivery company.” It had been Deanna who had had picked the Starfleet Ensign’s name for T’Pol’s alias, as both Troi and Torres had read about the old NX Enterprise’s missions while in school. All three were certain of remembering the name and equally certain that no Ferengi would recognize it.
Dakley tipped his head towards the four nude Andorian girls. “Interested? I’ve been thinking of replacing our classical music display with something a little more contemporary. Maybe a dance number.”
“That would depend on the taste of your customer base,” T’Pol said, turning to walk away from the Ferengi, giving Dakley the opportunity to drink in the sight of the
Vulcan’s firm ass as she departed.
Meanwhile the black human girl had returned to Deanna, the waitress’ bare breasts jiggling with her quick movements. “One chocolate sundae with extra fudge and sprinkles,” the nude woman smiled, handing the treat over to the voluptuous Betazoid. But as Troi murmured a thank you and accepted the desert the dark-skinned beauty leaned forward, as if to step around her, and whispered in her ear.
“The wheel is rigged. Get your friend away from it.” Before Troi could even thank her for the warning the waitress was moving on, smiling and flaunting her naked figure for other customers.
The queue at the Dabo wheel had shortened and Torres was taking spins. Voyager’s chief engineer leaned forward to set the wheel in motion, her dangling breasts swaying deliciously with the energetic movement. The half-Klingon’s delicious melons were drawing more attention from the other players than the wheel’s movement.
“Dabo!” squealed the Deltan Dabo girl, the bald beauty clapping and hopping with apparent excitement, her bare breasts leaping on her chest. B’Elanna increased her wager and took another spin.
“Are you sure about what you’re doing?” Troi asked empathically.
“The table is configured to give gamblers better odds than usual,” came Torres’ mental answer, her lovely dark eyes intent on the game, “So customers see people making big winnings. It lures them into bigger bets, and bigger losses once the table is switched against them.” She made spin after spin, the Ferengi standing opposite her drinking in the view of B’Elanna’s bare breasts while those behind her admired Torres’ firm ass and long athletic legs. Those two delights became even more enticing as B’Elanna’s winnings grew, the twenty-two year old leaning far across the table to retrieve and place down latinum strips, her melons hanging until her brown nipples nearly touched the gaming wheel.
And then Torres felt a woman’s hands around her left arm. “You’re doing so well. It’s so exciting to see someone who knows the game.” The Deltan was at B’Elanna’s side and her touch was electric, sending shivers of pleasure along the Klingon’s body. Her voice was butter and honey, hinting at lovely delights. Even her smell was intoxicating.
Torres turned her lovely dark eyes and was astonished too see how beautiful the Deltan was. Large eyes looked at her with admiration and even affection, while her full lips were slightly open in breathless excitement. The bald beauty was stunning.
She was also trying to subtly nudge Torres over so that the Deltan could reach the pressure switch beneath the table. B’Elanna had thoughtfully positioned herself directly in front of it, making any attempt to rig the game against her more difficult. But the game was quickly fading out of her thoughts.
“Hello there,” B’Elanna breathed, never having felt so drawn to any man or woman as much as she was to this Deltan. Her eyes dropped to the bald young woman’s bare breasts, round and perfect with delicious puffy nipples. Below her bosom was a flat stomach and lower still a neat and firm pussy, completely smooth and hairless.
“B’Elanna!” warned Troi empathically, “Stay focused!”
Torres turned her eyes back to the game. Setting another wager she spun the wheel, her bare breasts jiggling with the swing of her arm. As the wheel slowed the Deltan clung tightly to B’Elanna, her breasts pressing against her naked skin. The sensation was wonderful.
“Deltans can manipulate your nerves through physical contact!” came another warning from Deanna. “B’Elanna, don’t step over. She’s making you step over! Don’t make another bet!”
“Dabo!” squealed the Deltan, jumping up and
down, her erect nipples brushing against B’Elanna’s
bare breasts. The Lieutenant’s mind was a warm haze of pleasure and
anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to kneel down and take the Deltan’s breasts in her mouth and kiss her soft titflesh. She wanted to feel the girl’s hands all over her
body. “What’s your next wager?” the bald beauty asked, her large eyes begging, pleading for B’Elanna to stay. One slim
hand slid beneath Torres’ arm, cupping her left breast and gently squeezing the
twenty-two year old’s supple orb.
It took all of B’Elanna’s willpower to pull away from the Deltan’s incredible embrace. “I think I know the limits of my luck,” she said, her voice quick and tight with her excitement. The Klingon’s nipples were two stubby towers on her tits and her pussy lips were puffy with her arousal. Signaling an attendant to collect her winnings for her B’Elanna stepped away from the Dabo wheel.
A moment later Torres was standing beside Deanna and T’Pol, the twenty-two year old’s eyes shut as she tried to calm herself with deep breast-lifting breaths. “That cunning little bitch,” the Klingon cursed quietly, creating a delicious view as she arched her back and stretched. “No wonder the Ferengi are stupid enough to fall for the con on that Dabo wheel. She can make your brains turns to butter. That filthy tramp.”
“It is atrocious that her abilities would be used in such a way,” agreed T’Pol, adjusting how her belt rested on her curving hips.
But Deanna was watching the bald young woman at the Dabo
wheel with a sad look in her dark Betazoid eyes. “If she doesn’t meet her
quota, her boss will make her entertain the bouncers tonight.”
B’Elanna looked sharply at the counselor. “What? You mean she’s…”
Troi nodded, folding her arms before her bare boobs. “Terrified. Helpless. Doing everything she can to make it a little less worse for herself. Alright,” she exhaled, trying to ignore the fact that she was standing utterly naked in a room full of Ferengi men, “B’Elanna did well at the Dabo wheel but we need more. Any ideas?”
“The high stakes Tongo game,” T’Pol said immediately, her full breasts shifting slightly as she half-turned, indicating the game in the central area of the casino, well-placed near both the bar and stage.
Torres’s lovely dark eyes were cautious. “Are you sure T’Pol? Practice games against the two of us and Melika won’t be the same as playing against experienced Ferengi players.”
“I have a secret weapon,” the Vulcan said, a hint of a smile appearing on her pouting lips. She concentrated, her thoughts appearing clearly in the empathic Betazoid’s mind. “I will be relying on you, Deanna. Even if they recognize your species, there has never been a Betazoid that could read Ferengi minds.”
+++++
“Very impressive, Miss Sato,” the Ferengi named Mox admitted as he admired the view. After a modestly successful round T’Pol was leaning forward to collect her winnings, the Vulcan’s generous tits dangling and shaking as she picked the colored chips out of the pot. While latinum bars were used at other Tongo tables, this high-stakes game used plastic chips as the sheer amount of gold-pressed latinum they were bidding would be too great to place on the table.
“You have handled Tongo’s sharp learning curve well,” commented another Ferengi, leaning back to admire the curve of T’Pol’s bare rump. “A firm, well-rounded grasp on the game.”
T’Pol put on her best smile as she sat down again, silently thanking that her baseball cap concealed her pointed ears, a sign of a Vulcan intellect. She left the chips in a mess before her, not needing to sort them by color and value thanks to her well-developed memory. “It has a great depth to appreciate.” The Tongo table and the chairs were built for short Ferengi, meaning that the five foot seven Vulcan had to lean forward heavily to make her bids. Even when she was seated she found herself presenting her naked figure from the navel up. T’Pol’s memory was not the only thing of hers that was well-developed.
The next hand was dealt and T’Pol put in her anti. She had done well so far, partly due to her Vulcan talent for memory and odds calculation but mostly because of Deanna Troi’s empathic talents. Their Orion conditioning had not only enhanced their nervous systems for pleasure but had also boosted the counselor’s psychic abilities. Normally a Betazoid could not read the thoughts of strangely-shaped Ferengi brains but with concentration Troi was now able to skim information from their thoughts and pass it on to her Vulcan companion.
In the past half-hour T’Pol had turned B’Elanna’s earlier winnings into an impressive stake, and was one of the three leading players on the Tongo table.
The round began. “Evade,” T’Pol said, warned by Troi that her opponents had strong hands.
“Acquire,” Mox snapped. He was an older Ferengi with deep lines on his face and large ears that were slightly shriveled from his age. He was also a name that T’Pol remembered from the Auction Dome: he frequently purchased young women of other species, and had been bidding for the Trill girls they had rescued earlier that evening.
“Confront.” Around the circle it went, each player moving cards to and from their hand as they tried to strengthen their position and counter what they believed to be their opponents’ strategies. T’Pol dropped out of this round early after taking a minor loss, not wanting to draw suspicion by appearing too lucky. But in the next round the haughtily-beautiful Vulcan found herself in a far better position and set about strengthening her hand..
“I like your breasts, Hoshi Sato,” Mox said suddenly. “Are they real? Confront.”
T’Pol’s normally regal demeanor was momentarily shaken by the bold question. “Evade. Entirely real,” was her calm answer, but she took a sip from a glass of water before her. Suddenly she felt as if everyone at the table was now paying close attention to her bare breasts, which wasn’t true. They had always been paying close attention to T’Pol’s bare breasts.
“I believe what the esteemed trader Mox is trying to say is,” another Ferengi said diplomatically, “That you do not appear to be a typical delivery-girl. Acquire.”
“I am an exceptional delivery girl,” T’Pol countered. “Acquire.”
“Today you made away with a dozen Trill girls,” Mox pointed out, “Including that pretty little thing from Sappora, the Tigan female’s daughter. Ezri, I think her name was. Will those lovely little things become your employees or another delivery?”
The Vulcan’s pouting lips produced a lovely smile. “Now now Mister Mox, you cannot expect a girl to give up all her secrets. What Moonlight Bounty does with its acquisitions is Moonlight Bounty’s business.”
Deanna’s voice was clear in T’Pol’s mind. “You’ve got them. Mox’s hand is all manufacturing industries while the other two are split across arms trade and shipping interests, strong but not strong enough to challenge.” The Vulcan’s eyes moved over the cards in her hands, indicating a winning monopoly on technology development.
“Go slow when you increase the bet,” came Torres’ mental advice, relayed through Deanna’s empathic mind. “You don’t want to scare them off.”
T’Pol leaned forward to drop chips into the pot, providing yet another mouthwatering view of her breasts in motion as they swayed beneath her. “I presume from your interest in Ezri Tigan that you have plans upon the pergium mines her family controls? Acquire.”
As the other players matched the stakes Mox scratched one age-shriveled ear. “No, I just liked the look of the girl. Fresh and innocent, and she made such pleasant squeals. Acquire.”
The stakes steadily rose, many of the Ferengi players opting out of the expensive round. T’Pol remained in, trusting the strength of her hand and remaining cool and demure despite sitting practically naked among these shameless men.
Quickly “Hoshi Sato” found nearly her entire stake committed to this one round and only herself, Mox and a Ferengi with a poor hand focusing on arms trade assets remaining in play. The last player was only remaining in the round due to an apparent abundance of inexperience as he burned his cash reserves.
The bare-bodied science officer parted her plump lips. “I believe it may have been a mistake on the part of the seller, Feller, to include Miss Tigan in his bulk sale.”
“Little Ezri definitely could have drawn a higher price if properly advertised and marketed. Confront.” Mox dropped another handful of chips into the pot and T’Pol paused, her beautiful eyes widening slightly at the scale of his bet.
The Vulcan looked at her diminishing pile and shifted her shapely bottom in her chair. “I apologize, but I find myself in an awkward position. Matching your bet will require funds I cannot commit to this game.”
“Then liquidate an asset,” Mox suggested, “To raise the funds. In fact you may liquidate an asset to me, and I will provide the funds for you to stay in the round.”
T’Pol’s plump lips pursed as she watched the Ferengi with skepticism on her lovely features. “You want me to place Ezri Tigan in the “pot”, Mox?”
“No.” The Ferengi’s eyes dropped down to the Vulcan’s shapely chest, admiring the shape and puffiness of her large brown nipples. “I want you to place yourself in the pot, Hoshi Sato. Someone get me my datapadd.”
Receiving a datapadd from a scantily clad Orion girl, Mox activated its audio record feature. “I will provide the funds you require to complete this round. Should you win, then you will win the entire stake and no debt to me will be incurred. But if you should lose the round then you will owe the winner the use of that delicious body of yours for a period of one standard hour.”
T’Pol’s bare breasts rose in a slight intake of breath, a sign of her nervousness. “That is a bold suggestion, trader Mox.”
“No reward without risk,” the Ferengi replied. “Consider how much latinum we are speaking of. If you agree then simply place your thumb on the padd to confirm the audio contract.”
The
The aged Mox looked up and down T’Pol’s body. “Not sex. Suppose you provide your services
as a display piece. You would be
doing what you do so well: looking pretty, Miss Sato. In a
costume and situation of the winner’s choosing, of course, but no sex.”
“Deanna,” the Vulcan thought, “Help me.”
“Your hand is stronger than his,” came the empath’s psychic advice. “And everyone is watching him too closely for him to cheat the cards. Dammit T’Pol, every man in the room is thinking about your boobs! It’s overwhelming, I can’t sense straight.”
“But my hand will beat his?”
“I’m certain of it.”
T’Pol leaned forward, her tits swaying gently beneath her lean body, her round rump displayed with her pussy lips peeking out between her thighs for the enjoyment of all the men behind her, and reached for the padd with her thumb.
But before she could touch the padd Mox withdrew it, leaving the Vulcan deliciously off-balance. “Just a moment,” the Ferengi interrupted. “You can see exactly how much you would win if you claim the round. But I’d like an idea of what I would get if I won. Stand up, let us look at you.”
T’Pol straightened slowly, her
eyes on the Ferengi as she tried to hide her annoyance at his petty little
game.
“No no, Miss Sato, stand on the table.”
Now her Vulcan self-control could not hide her annoyance. With a roll of her beautiful eyes T’Pol lifted one long leg, stepping up onto her chair and then one more step up onto the table. There were whispers of appreciation from across the casino as science officer T’Pol, the second in command of the NX class Enterprise, stood naked on the Tongo table and slowly turned about, displaying her fantastic figure for all to see. All eyes were on her long legs, round rump, ample breasts, narrow waist and delicious bald snatch.
“Barbarians,” thought Deanna Troi,
and immediately sensed B’Elanna, T’Pol and many of
the female staff of the casino thinking the same thing.
“That makes it clear enough,” Mox smiled. T’Pol hopped down from the table, her bare breasts bouncing, and once again leaned forward and pressed her thumb on the padd’s contract. Ferengi gazed in appreciation of the Vulcan’s incredible figure while the many mostly naked women in the chamber tried to continue their duties, their eyes downcast.
“Then the funding is yours,” Mox said, dropping two heavy handfuls of chips into the pot, representing a quantity of latinum that would have made the table crack under its weight. He lifted his cards. “Shall we see…”
He was interrupted by the short Ferengi Dakley. “The House is objecting to this deal. Miss Sato,” he nodded to T’Pol as he reached the edge of the table. “We cannot cover a bet of this kind or size, Mox. The casino…”
“I own a greater share than you, Dakley,” snapped the older Ferengi. T’Pol watched the two men argue with slightly widening eyes. She hadn’t expected Mox to have a significant stake in the casino. Her confidence suddenly shaken, the Vulcan flushed slightly as the reality that she was sitting almost entirely naked among these Ferengi, every inch of her lean, heavy-chested body on display for them, heavily invested in a game where her opponent was the House.
The confrontation between the Ferengi ended with a sharp statement from Mox. “I have a thumbprint on a contract and a casino full of witnesses to the deal. The round will continue! Miss Sato,” he nodded again as Dakley backing off to a safe distance.
A smile returned to Mox’s face as he looked at the ample-breasted T’Pol. “I would say that I would show you mine, if you would show me yours, but…” He looked down at the Vulcan’s bare breasts. “You already have.” He dropped his cards on the table, revealing a powerful industrial hand that made the Ferengi watching the game murmur in appreciation.
Her pouting lips pursing together, T’Pol carefully readjusted the cards she held, wiggling her bottom slightly, and then set down her hand. “Technology monopoly,” the Vulcan said, unable to resist the triumphant smile that spread across her beautiful features.
The Ferengi audience that had gathered to watch this critical round gaped and goggled, some shaking their heads ruefully while others looked in admiration at the gorgeous nude T’Pol sitting regal and elegant at the Tongo table. She had beaten Mox soundly.
She leaned forward, her lovely melons swaying. “Thank you for a most stimulating game, trader Mox. I will collect my winnings and…”
“I have a hand too,” snapped the last Ferengi who had stayed in the round, emptying his cash reserves to remain. He tossed his cards down in front of T’Pol and the Vulcan stared at them in shock.
It was a completed slaving guild, a rare and very strong association of cards. Mox had lost to T’Pol, but T’Pol had lost to this Ferengi who had remained unnoticed and invisible for most of the round.
“My god he cheated!” came Deanna’s pained cry in T’Pol’s thoughts. “He had an arms trade hand, I’m certain of it! He must have switched his cards when everyone was watching you standing on the table!”
“Then we must expose his cheating,” T’Pol thought.
“How? By exposing ours?”
During this silent mental exchange the Vulcan remained still as a statue, arms half-reaching for the pot, her generous udders dangling beneath her. Then she sat back down in her chair, her pouting lips open slightly in shock.
T’Pol had lost. The men in the casino began to smile, enjoying the thought of the haughty and regal Vulcan now completely bankrupt, having no choice but to pay the price for her defeat.
The little Ferengi, whose name had not been told to the
Vulcan, picked up Mox’s datapadd. “But if you should lose the round then you
will owe the winner the use of that delicious body of yours for a period of one
standard hour.” He fast-forwarded the recording. “In a costume and situation of the winner’s
choosing. Air tight and very clear, Miss Hoshi Sato.”
T’Pol’s eyes moved the Mox and she could see the victory in the twisted old Ferengi’s eyes. This had been his plan all along. He had never intended to win himself, but to distract and obscure while his henchman cheated his way to victory. It was a game within a game and T’Pol was the prize.
The Ferengi who won the round grinned. “For the time, I pick now. For a place, I pick… that stage up there,” he said, pointing to the platform on which the four Andorian girls were playing their violins. “And as for the costume, hmmm.” He looked towards Mox. “I think the casino should have what I’m thinking of.”
“We have an excellent replication facility,” Mox agreed, “I’ll have one of my men take Miss Sato over.” Immediately a heavy Gorn hand clasped around T’Pol’s bare upper arm.
The Vulcan was pulled up from her chair, her melons jumping and her plump lips opening in shock. “But,” she stammered, then inhaled sharply as the Gorn bouncer grabbed her other arm as well. The beautiful Vulcan was forced to stand on tip-toe, her elbows pulled back and her breasts quivering, and she could do absolutely nothing to cover those lovely treats.
“That,” Mox said with finality, “Is what a female losing Tongo looks like.” He gave T’Pol a wave as the saucy science officer was pulled towards an exit with tit-jiggling steps.
+++++
B’Elanna simmered with rage but Deanna’s hand on her shoulder held her back. “We can’t afford to do anything that would get you, me and T’Pol locked up!”
“But this is humiliating enough as it is!” Torres said, her attractive features distraught with her helpless outrage. To cover her anger she pulled the brim of her cap down lower with an aggressive yank, making her brown teats jiggle on her bare breasts.
Deanna felt the same thing. Placing her suddenly tasteless chocolate sundae down she ran one hand up through B’Elanna’s dark hair in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
But sorry wasn’t going to help T’Pol. The stage entrance opened and the Mother of the Federation walked onto the platform with slow, embarrassed steps. The sight of what the Vulcan was wearing her struck Deanna and B’Elanna speechless, the two brunettes staring in disbelief.
T’Pol’s stunning body was coated in paint from her toes to her neck, covering everything but at the same time revealing every part of her as the paint clung to her breasts, waist, ass and the folds of her pussy. Large irregular patches of black paint were scattered across a white background. The Vulcan’s breasts had been painted bright pink, her generous boobs made even more prominent thanks to the eye-catching color. There was a collar around her neck to which a small simple bell was attached.
Troi and Torres gaped in disbelief. T’Pol had been painted to look like a dairy cow!
For a moment Deanna and B’Elanna thought that more pink had been painted on the Vulcan’s cheeks, but then they saw that T’Pol was blushing. Her full lips were parted and her eyes wide, the gorgeous science officer clearly humiliated by her degrading ‘outfit’. A Gorn hand shoving her in the back made her pink tits bounce as T’Pol was pushed forward, walking towards the centre of the stage. Her hands rose to cover her boobs but the giant reptilian behind her snatched at her arms, pulling her hands away from her nudity and forcing the woman to advance uncovered.
T’Pol’s dark eyes were drawn to an object that had been placed on the stage, waiting for her. It was a short metal bucket. “What…” was all she got to ask.
The Gorn shoved her hard, making the Vulcan fall on her hands and knees with
her pink tits dangling over the bucket. The cow-costumed T’Pol
gasped in humiliation, her gorgeous body in clear view of every man on the
casino floor as she was positioned with her ass in the air and her boobs
swaying beneath her. The bell attached to her collar made a clonking sound as
it shifted with her body.
The sound of a stool being dragged over drew the Vulcan’s eyes. The Gorn sat down, keeping one hand on T’Pol’s back to keep her down, and then reached his free hand beneath the woman to grip the Vulcan’s udders.
“Oooohh!” gasped T’Pol as her pink-painted tits were squeezed. Her pouting
lips opened in a moan of distress, her ass wiggling as the Gorn’s
powerful hands got to work on her breasts, squeezing and pulling them down
towards the bucket as if they were the teats of a cow’s udder. “Aaaahhh!” she cried, her
Orion-conditioned body delighting in the contact even as her Vulcan mind
trembled in absolute shame. “Aaaahhh!
Aaaahhh!”
Mox smiled in satisfaction at the sight of T’Pol naked and humiliated. “And the hour begins… now. Play the next hand,” he said to the others at the Tongo wheel, “I do not believe we will have to deal Hoshi into this round. Unless you would like to play from where you are, miss?”
“Uuhhhh!!” moaned T’Pol, the bell at her neck clonking as she thrashed her head.
“I didn’t think so,” Mox chuckled, turning his chair back to the game but not before noting how many Ferengi in the room were grinning at the sight of T’Pol’s humiliation.
The female employees of the casino tried to busy themselves in their work, ignoring the cries of distress coming from the humiliated Vulcan. Bare breasts jiggled and bottoms wiggled as the barely-clad women moved quickly around the casino floor, busying themselves and trying not to look at the black-white-and-pink painted woman on her fours on the stage. But two women could not look away: Deanna and B’Elanna stared in shock at their companion, speechless at the sight of their normally regal and demure friend reduced to playing a dairy cow for the amusement of these Ferengi pigs.
T’Pol’s eyes rolled in unwanted pleasure. The Gorn’s fingers were powerful and relentless, squeezing and yanking her breasts in sequence, maintaining a steady rhythm. Her globes became cones as the giant reptilian tightened his grip, pointing the Vulcan’s teats towards the bucket, first the left and then the right.
And no amount of Vulcan repression could contain the ecstasy building up in T’Pol’s body. Her Orion conditioning had made her breasts, among other parts of her delicious figure, extremely sensitive. Even if she had not been conditioned the Gorn’s strong hands would have been more than enough to make even a Vulcan cry out as her tits were squeezed. For the exquisitely tuned T’Pol it was a torturous ecstasy, her dark eyes rolling and her bare bottom wiggling. Her body dipped lower, her tits dangling closer to the bucket and her hands uselessly lifting and thumping against the stage as she was mock-milked.
“See that, Dakley?” Mox said, gesturing to the moaning Vulcan on the stage, her bell clonking with her useless sexy struggles. “That’s what you should have on the stage, not those boring violins. Get your Andorian bimbos painted up and pair them up with some of our guards. I want to see four blondes with their breasts over buckets by the time Miss Sato’s hour is up. Time they earned their latinum.”
The four Andorian teenagers, standing beside the stage that had been claimed for T’Pol’s humiliation, gasped and shared horrified looks with each other. They clutched their violins to their naked chests, less a sign of their embarrassment than how precious those instruments were to them. Up to now they had been able to retain a tiny shred of their former dignity. Now even that would be taken away from them.
T’Pol, meanwhile, had no dignity
left at all. “Muuuuu oooohhh,” she moaned, her eyes shut as her tits were squeezed. Her boobs
felt as if they were burning, aching from the Gorn’s
powerful fingers, and her nipples tingled almost painfully. This ‘performance’
was not meant to squeeze milk from the Vulcan’s generous udders but she felt a
surge of horror at the thought that it might. If the Gorn’s
fingers were to shift to her erect teats, T’Pol
thought, he might actually squeeze a few spurts from her boobs. “Muuuuoohhh,” she groaned again, bowing her head in
defeat to stare at her own bare breasts as they were squeezed.
Mox leaned forward to collect his winnings. “This round goes to me,” he said cheerfully, the game continuing even during T’Pol’s humiliation. “Someone should make sure that there’s a nice glass of warm milk and a ride home waiting for Miss Sato in an hour’s time. I think she’s found Tongo a little too rough for her tastes.”
“Dakley,” T’Pol moaned even as her aching tits were vigorously milked by the Gorn’s powerful hands, “I request on behalf of Moonlight Bounty deliveries that uuuuhhhh! I request that we could borrow a sum of fifty bars of gold pressed latinummmoooouuuhh!”
Mox answered before Dakley had the chance. “Preposterous. Just learn your lesson and look forward to going home and getting some icepacks on your titties, silly girl. The only place for a female here is where you are now.”
T’Pol shut her eyes as her boobs were squeezed, calling on the last shred of her Vulcan self-control, and looked directly at Dakley. “You can see that I pay my debts,” she said, doing her best to control her voice as the Gorn yanked her tits towards the bucket.
“No one here can deny that,” Dakley said to the agreement of the crowd. The action in the rest of the casino was still essentially dead, the Ferengi in the room entranced by the sight of T’Pol, painted in black and white and pink, on all fours as she was mock-milked.
“One bad hand,” the Vulcan cried out, her voice rising an octave as the Gorn’s milking picked up speed, “Is not the end of the night!” Her head bowed, her eyes dragged back to her own tits as they were squeezed. “Just as one bad transaction,” she gasped, “Does not end a business! I intend to return to the game!” she promised.
Many Ferengi in the casino seemed to wholeheartedly agree with ‘Hoshi’, although whether they were agreeing with her entrepreneurial spirit of simply hoping the naked Vulcan would stay in the casino, it was hard to tell. Mox laughed, turning in his chair to look over the defeated woman’s nude, wriggling body. “Pathetic. Yes, play another round or two. Let’s see what else you can lose…”
Deanna Troi was walking by the Tongo table with B’Elanna beside her, the two nude Starfleet officers mostly ignored despite their incredible curves thanks to T’Pol’s humiliating spectacle.
The chocolate sundae in the Betazoid’s hand slipped free of her fingers and broke on the floor. Troi leapt back, her round bottom smacking against the face of the wiry little Ferengi that had won the round against T’Pol.
He was knocked from his chair, hands and legs waving. He sputtered in fury until he saw Deanna Troi and B’Elanna Torres leaning over him, their lovely tits dangling and their face apologetic. “I am so sorry!” the counselor exclaimed, the Betazoid and the Klingon grabbing the Ferengi by his jacket and pulling him onto his feet. He was briefly pressed between the two women’s bodies, one athletic and tanned and the other pale and voluptuous, and suddenly he forgot about all of his troubles. He grinned stupidly as the two women patted him down, straightening his clothes.
Then Deanna’s hand slipped into his jacket and pulled out a sheaf of Tongo cards. “What’s this?” She looked around with her beautiful black Betazoid eyes wide with innocence. “Do you collect Tongo cards?”
The Ferengi flustered and sputtered, realizing that the eyes of the Ferengi around him were suddenly moving away from T’Pol’s humiliation and towards him. “Those aren’t mine!” he declared as he backed away from the curvaceous Deanna. He lifted his voice and appealed to the crowd. “She must have planted them in my jacket!”
He retreated right up against B’Elanna Torres’ firm nude body, the Klingon woman standing with her hands on her naked hips. “After taking them out of one of her many pockets, I suppose?” she suggested, looking archly at Deanna Troi’s naked figure.
T’Pol’s face rose. The Gorn had ceased to squeeze her tits and was now looking towards Mox and Dakley for direction. This allowed T’Pol to gather herself and steady her voice. “I was cheated,” she said flatly, pushing herself back onto her knees and wrapping her slim arms around her aching pink-painted tits.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Mox objected but word was already spreading. Whispers and mutters spread across the casino floor as news of the cheating Ferengi, Mox’s henchman, spread quickly. Casino security guards had converged on the cheater, taking firm hold of her arms and pulling him from the table.
Seeing that the tide was turning against him Mox stood up and tightened his coat around his short body. “This is a farce, not a Tongo game,” he snapped and strode away.
Dakley was quickly by T’Pol’s side, bowing and scraping as he helped the science officer back onto her feet, shooing the Gorn guard away. “I apologize for this unfortunate situation, Miss Sato. Obviously your winnings are yours and I promise that we will do everything in our power to prevent something like this from happening again.”
T’Pol straightened, suddenly regal and elegant again despite being painted to resemble a dairy cow and wearing a bell around her neck. “You do not need to do anything,” the Vulcan said pointedly, “The Ferengi Commerce Authority will undoubtedly be able to straighten this place out. The FCA has men specially trained to crawl over Dabo wheels looking for signs of cheating.”
The Ferengi’s eyes widened at the thought of FCA officials discovering his rigged games. “I’m sure we don’t need to bring the FCA into this little mistake,” he said, “You and I are both victims here! Firstly we will clean that paint off you,” Dakley promised, already removing the cowbell collar around T’Pol’s neck, “But I would be mortified if you did not accept proper compensation for your inconveniences this evening!”
T’Pol looked down at her pink-painted tits, then to her two companions. Then the science officer then turned her eyes on the four Andorian girls standing with their musical instruments ready, their blue eyes wide.
“Dakley,” the Vulcan said slowly, “I believe that we can come to some sort of understanding. Moonlight Bounty has an interest in the slave trade, particularly in acquiring females.”
+++++
Ezri Tigan slouched in one of the chairs on Starheart’s bridge as she played with a slice of pineapple, turning it over and over in her hands. Droplets of pineapple juice occasionally dripped onto her bra-clad chest. Like the other rescued Trill girls Ezri wore only underwear in the heat and humidity of the experimental ship’s interior. It was a world of improvement over what she had worn during her imprisonment, which had been nothing.
The bunkrooms aboard the ship were snug with sleeping Trill teenagers, the girls enjoying a well-deserved night of fearless slumber. But Ezri had been unable to sleep, knowing that Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol were still out there putting themselves in danger for the sake of other girls like her.
So when the decon door opened and the three Starfleet officers entered, each naked after the cleaning cycle, Ezri leapt to her feet with an enormous smile of relief on her pretty face. Then her blue eyes widened as she saw who was following them.
Behind Torres, Troi and T’Pol was a quartet of Andorians. The four nude young women were each a beauty in her own right, their blonde hair long and their curves delicious, blue eyes taking in the ship around them with amazement. Behind them was a black-skinned human female, her hands cupping and covering her bare breasts and her lips agape at her surroundings. More followed, including several Bajorans, each one of them naked after the decontamination process and each one now a free woman.
At the very tail of the group was a bald Deltan woman, her naked body flawless and exquisite, tears of gratitude rimming her eyes and her lovely lips trembling at the realization that she was finally free. There were more than a dozen girls in all.
B’Elanna pointed at Ezri. “Tigan, can you start replicating underwear for these women? I think they’d appreciate some clothes.”
“Yes, of course,” the eighteen year old Trill said, running over to the replicator and punching in commands. Soon Ezri was handing out sets of underwear to grateful young women, her blue eyes wide as girl after girl thanked her.
B’Elanna, T’Pol and Deanna were the last to collect their garments. “You went back to the markets?” Ezri exclaimed, practically jumping as she blurted out the question, the tasty handfuls of her boobs leaping inside her bra.
“Not exactly,” Deanna said, leaning forward with her generous melons dangling as she shimmied a pair of panties up her legs.
“We visited a local casino,” Torres added, clipping her bra around her waist and then turning and lifting it to cup and cradle her supple boobs.
T’Pol slid panties up her long lovely legs, standing on the tips of her toes as she pulled the fabric up against her bald pussy. “We made some winnings and by chance forced a situation where the Ferengi would pay us with some of his employees.”
Scooping her ample titflesh into her bra Deanna added “I scanned them empathically, picking the ones that really needed to get out of there the most. It was hard to leave anyone behind.”
Ezri’s blue eyes shone with admiration. “You went to a Ferengi casino, beat them at their own game, and took their slaves from them!? You’re incredible! All of you!”
T’Pol was particularly gentle as she settled her achingly tender breasts into a bra. “Our night did not go as smoothly as you are suggesting,” the Vulcan said delicately, her fingers cradling her still-throbbing udders.
+++++
The Trill girls already rescued were awoken to the amazing discovery that more women were going to go home. There were no complaints as the Trill teenagers bunked up with girls of other races, often with three slim mostly-naked bodies squeezed into a single bed for the trip back to the Federation.
That night Ezri Tigan slept sandwiched between a lovely blue-skinned Andorian and a stunning Deltan, long legs intertwined and breasts mashing together in their bras. The Trill dreamed of adventures and great causes and Starfleet uniforms, crisp and clean and far warmer than being marched naked on the streets of Ferenginar. With a smile on her pretty face Ezri slept all the way home.
TO BE CONTINUED
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