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:
For a clearer idea of what these characters look like, check out www.memory-alpha.org and use the search feature to find the characters by name.
Feedback can be directed to Mickt80@hotmail.com.
EPISODE 13: OPERATION: IMPREGNATE!
Velcro straps were ripped away and T’Pol fell to her knees, her bare breasts bouncing and a gasp escaping her full lips. After days with her breasts at the mercy of the milking machine, she was finally free.
But quickly the Vulcan discovered how limited her freedom was. A jerk of her wrists that made her bare breasts sway confirmed that her hands were still locked behind her back with gravimetric shackles. The lean-limbed, heavy-chested T’Pol wore nothing except those shackles and her boots. She doubled over on her knees, pressing her aching breasts against the cold metal floor.
Every woman captured by Papilia’s forces had been altered, their breasts treated so that each became a living Ketrecel White factory. The Vulcan had helplessly watched her own breasts milked to produce the compound necessary to support and control the genetically engineered Jem’Hadar.
T’Pol had once held the rank of
Commander aboard the historic NX class
The last few days, or longer maybe, were a drug-induced haze. All T’Pol could remember was the sensation of a mask over her mouth and nose, force-feeding her a rich nutrient goo doped with tranquilizers, the waste-reclaiming life support tubes nuzzling deeply into her pussy and ass, and the horrible sensation of the Vorta’s machinery as they tugged and squeezed at her nipples, forcing T’Pol’s tits to yield her milk.
The haughtily-beautiful woman lifted her head to look at her captor. “Wakey wakey, science officer,” Papilia said with a cheery smile. The Vorta was a slim young woman with unnaturally pale skin and icy blue-white eyes. Her dark hair curled tightly, looking almost as if it were molded to her skull, and her gill-like ears seemed to crawl down into her jawline.
Where T’Pol was nude except for her bonds, Papilia wore a tiny skirt and equally tiny vest that only barely closed around her round bosom, pushing her titflesh up into an enticing cleavage. It was cool light clothing well-suited to the heat of Vulcan, although T’Pol had never seen the Vorta venture outside of the secret underground facility where she carried out her sick experiments.
But it was what Papilia wore on her belt that had T’Pol’s attention. She carried several small devices, one of which was the control for the prisoner’s gravimetric shackles and another was a killswitch, which she could use to euthanize her pet Jem’Hadar at will.
One of the genetically engineered soldiers stood at Papilia’s side. The scar-faced First Tan’Alac was the leader of the Jem’Hadar, but subordinate to the Vorta. He grabbed T’Pol by her arms and hoisted her up on her feet, the Vulcan’s bare breasts leaping on her chest and making her gasp out loud as her much-abused nipples stung with the movement.
Papilia looked up and down the Vulcan standing naked and bound before her. “I’m truly impressed, T’Pol. Those melons have yours have produced an unholy amount of milk, yet they’ve recovered magnificently.” She reached out to touch one fingertip to T’Pol’s aching left teat. The Vulcan tried to pull away but Tan’Alac forced her to stand straight, the science officer’s breasts quivering with her brief and futile struggle. “I do wonderful work, don’t I? You’re the perfect milk factory.”
“I am glad you are impressed with yourself,” T’Pol said with bitter venom in her voice.
“Really? Because I’m so impressed that I’m giving you and the other ladies a break.” Papilia gave the surprised Vulcan a nod of confirmation. “Our stockpiles of White far exceed what we can store. I would need extra Jem’Hadar to use the White substitute before it reaches the end of its shelf life. So no milking for now. In fact I’m in such a good mood I might just…” She tapped the control unit at her hip.
T’Pol’s shackles produced small gravity fields that could lock them together, repel them apart or draw them towards or away from the ground. On command they disengaged from each other, releasing the Vulcan’s wrists from behind her back for the first time in days. Immediately they locked together again, but this time in front of her body. With a sigh of relief T’Pol pressed her slim forearms against her bare breasts, covering her aching aureoles and making her abundant titflesh press mouthwateringly together.
“The greatest Vulcan female in history deserves at least a little dignity,” Papilia allowed. She eyed T’Pol’s tits, pressing together, before letting her eyes wander down to the science officer’s smooth bald pussy. “But no more than that. If we pamper her, T’Pol might get to thinking she’s more than a dairy cow. Take my favorite pair of udders to the gymnasium, Tan’Alac,” the Vorta ordered, “Our guests should limber up a little. I’ll be down shortly.”
+++++
After the first few times Tan’Alac shoved her in the ass to make her pick up her feet, T’Pol kept up a good pace. Her long thighs moved briskly beneath her smooth hairless slit and her round ass wiggled, giving the Jem’Hadar an entertaining show as she walked. With her forearms pressed to her tits T’Pol could at least keep her breasts from bouncing uncomfortably with each step, and she gratefully found the ache in her still-stiff nipples was subsiding.
She rounded a corner and almost bumped chest-first into Deanna and B’Elanna. They were being guided by K’Mataclan, the Jem’Hadar Ninth, and like T’Pol their gravshacks were now locked in front of their bodies allowing them to cover their breasts.
Behind them marched the rest of the prisoners: the Bajoran nuns led by the red-headed beauty Lanlee Milos, as well as a group of Deltan schoolgirls with the stunning Alia Belles at their head, each beauty’s scalp and body completely hairless. Lastly came three women who, until a week ago, had worn the uniform of Starfleet: Captain Elizabeth Shelby, Junior Lieutenant Robin Lefler and the cute Ensign Hedril, a redheaded Cairn. Each and every one of the women was naked except for her shackles and footwear.
“My god,” groaned Elizabeth Shelby as she crossed paths with
T’Pol, “My boobs! What has she done to my boobs?!” The
blonde had possessed a lovely pair of tits beforehand, but the Vorta’s treatments and swollen
And they were not alone. Many of the Bajoran and Deltan girls had discovered their boobs to be plumper and fuller now than they had been when they had first arrived on Vulcan. The teenagers lowered their eyes in shame as they walked with their forearms pressed against their tender tits. All counted there were thirty five beauties held by Papilia’s Jem’Hadar, thirty five bare bottoms wiggling as they obediently followed the Jem’Hadars’ directions.
“How long have we been drugged?” B’Elanna asked quietly, now walking side by side with T’Pol and Deanna.
“Days at least,” the Vulcan answered, “Possibly a week. I cannot be sure.”
T’Pol yelped as Tan’Alac smacked her in the ass, her boobs briefly leaping out of the protection of her lifted arms. “No talking.”
Deanna Troi quickly found a way around the enforced silence, touching her companion’s minds with her empathic gifts. “I don’t think we’ll have another chance as good as this,” she said mentally. “We have to escape!”
“Be careful,” warned Torres, letting the Betazoid read her thoughts, “We don’t know how many Jem’Hadar are around us. They could be shrouded.”
The prisoners were escorted to the gymnasium, a subterranean chamber with high ceilings and more than enough open space to accommodate the thirty-five prisoners. As the women were spread out across the room T’Pol noticed that all the heavy equipment one might expect in a gym had been removed and that foam mattresses had been placed across the floor. Teenaged Deltans and Bajorans spread out across the room, stretching their slim legs with relief after days of confinement.
Papilia entered the room, smiling at the sight of the thirty five naked women under her control. “Good morning ladies. I felt that you deserved a chance to stretch a little. On one, two three!” She tapped her gravshack control unit.
Immediately the thirty five women’s hands were hauled above their heads, dozens of bare breasts jiggling as each woman stood on tip-toe. Girls gasped in shock. The fiery Vedek Lanlee bit back her anger at this fresh humiliation as the redhead stood completely nude with her hands raised, pink nipples trembling on her full chest. The Deltan Alia Belles whispered quiet comfort to her students around her, trying to cajole their tears away.
“Three, two one!” said Papilia, tapping another button and directing each set of gravshacks to drop to the floor. The assembled women were suddenly touching their toes, bare breasts dangling beneath them, bottoms presented for inspection, and their pussy lips peeking out from between their thighs. Robin Lefler shut her eyes in shame as she was forced into this humiliating position, her beautiful rump thrust backward while her long braid and soft tits dangled.
“Perverted bitch,” B’Elanna cursed as the Klingon, like all of them, was forced by her gravshacks to reach for the sky and then touch her toes again, her athletic figure moving against her well.
“This serves a purpose,” said Deanna as the captives began performing side-bends, breasts rolling across their chests as they leaned left and right and left again with their arms lifted above their heads, pulled by their gravshacks. “I can sense it. Papilia is planning something.”
“I don’t huff see how ‘limbering up’ huff serves any plan of hers,” T’Pol said a minute later as the thirty five women began a series of star jumps, their wrists rising and falling at their sides, making each woman leap and land with tit-jiggling energy. Teenaged girls rolled their eyes in shame and pleasure as their now super-sensitive breasts throbbed with pleasure with each jump.
The exercises went on for fifteen minutes, Papilia cycling the naked captives through forward bends, side bends and starjumps. Elizabeth Shelby and the two crewman beside her could not hide their embarrassment at this humiliating exercise, their now-swollen tits creating delicious spectacles on their chests. The Bajoran girls wept silently at the shameful ordeal. Even Allia Belles and her Deltan girls, accustomed to sexuality but less so to their humiliating exercise, were flushing hard as they displayed themselves in this childish manner. Tan’Alac circled the group while they worked, the Jem’Hadar’s eyes moving over bouncing tits and bending asses.
“A little group exercise is great for moral!” Papilia declared, “I want to see smiles on those pretty faces!” With another press of a button she secured the prisoner’s gravshacks behind each woman, thirty five sets of breasts thrusting forward as their wrists were pulled back. The Vorta nodded to Tan’Alac.
The Jem’Hadar First grabbed T’Pol by one arm and pushed her forwards, guiding the nude Vulcan to the front of the chamber where the other prisoners could see her. Deanna and B’Elanna were also dragged up front, as were Alia, Lanlee, Shelby and Hedril, each young woman staggering and leaning forwards, their tits jiggling as Jem’Hadar hauled them forwards.
As she was pushed up front T’Pol realized that these seven women represented the seven species of captured women: Human, Vulcan, Klingon, Betazoid, Deltan, Bajoran and Cairn.
An entrance in the back of the chamber opened and more Jem’Hadar entered. Teenaged Deltans and Bajorans stared in shock, long bare legs shifting as they retreated from the new arrivals. The genetically engineered soldiers tramping into the chamber were naked! Their armored uniforms had been removed to expose muscular bodies covered in tough grey hide, and a sight that made the young women in the chamber gasp in trepidation.
Each Jem’Hadar sported an organ hanging between his legs that bore only a vague resemblance to a penis. Their tools were thick tubes comprised of many muscular rings, a cross between a giant earthworm and the trunk of an elephant, and each was ten inches in length. And now there was a Jem’Hadar in the chamber for every captive woman!
Deltan schoolgirls and Bajoran nuns whimpered in terrified anticipation as each soldier stepped behind a nude prisoner. The young women were grabbed by the arms, forced to stand upright with their bare breasts quivering on their chests and their bottoms touching the horrifying sex organs of their captors. T’Pol, Deanna, B’Elanna and the other women ‘on stage’ at the front watched with equal despair as Tan’Alac and the other Jem’Hadar already in the room quickly stripped off their uniforms.
“Oh god,” Robin Lefler moaned as one of the grey-skinned soldiers stepped up close behind her and grabbed her by the arms. The Ensign’s lovely figure trembled as she realized what was about to happen.
“They’re not, are they?” whispered the redheaded Hedril, looking towards her equally helpless and naked Captain with terror in her blue eyes.
Tan’Alac spoke in a loud commanding tone. “Today we train against the women of our enemies. Observe. Analyze. Remember. Soon we will tame their worlds. The lessons you learn here will ensure victory.”
“Victory is life,” intoned the Jem’Hadar as they held their naked and bound captives still.
The First then pushed T’Pol forwards, the science officer’s bare breasts shaking and her pouting lips tightening with humiliation as her nude body was presented to the other Jem’Hadar. “This is a Vulcan. Her desert biology makes her species moisture-efficient and ideal support for lengthy Jem’Hadar operations.” Tan’Alac’s powerful hands pulled on T’Pol’s arms, forcing her to turn slowly and give all the men in the room a good view. “But their strength and discipline makes them physically more threatening than the females of most other Alpha Quadrant species. As we are based on Vulcan we will need to pacify and control many more Vulcan females. Learn from today’s lesson.”
As T’Pol was hauled back into line, Elizabeth Shelby was pushed forward. The blonde’s aching breasts jiggled on her chest as she was displayed. “This is a human. While possessing no particular physical advantages, hers is a highly populous species in the Alpha Quadrant and comprises the largest proportion of ship crews in Starfleet. This makes them the most available females. Expertise in taming them will be essential to victory.”
“Victory is life,” the soldiers repeated again.
Lanlee Milos was next. The Vedek’s long red hair was pulled back so that it would not cover her generous tits, the Bajoran’s expression showing a mix of helpless fury and deep shame as she was presented bound and naked to the room. “This is a Bajoran,” Tan’Alac declared. “Their religious faith and the unity it can confer is strong, but physically they are unremarkable. Bajor’s position near the wormhole terminus makes it tactically valuable and its women vital to ongoing operations. The occupation of Bajor is required.”
“We defeated the Cardassians!” the Vedek said, her pink nipples shaking on her chest as she trembled in fury. “We will defeat you!”
“Her words carry no weight,” the First said, eyeing the redhead’s lush curves. “Her people were dominated for eighty years by the Cardassian Union, a force far inferior to the Dominion. Next.”
B’Elanna Torres was shoved forward, the athletic twenty-two year old’s brown nipples jiggling on her soft melons. She turned her face away, dark hair falling across her jaw and neck, then gasped as her wrists were pushed against the small of her back to make her arch her spine, her bare breasts lifting. “This half-breed carries Klingon blood.” There was a small murmur of interest from the assembled Jem’Hadar. “Physically strong, defiant and trained for combat, her women would be both a great prize to conquer and a dangerous asset to control. If conquest proves too difficult it may prove necessary to exterminate her species.” As Voyager’s chief engineer gaped in shock at the First’s pronouncement she was pulled back into line.
With a yelp of discomfort Alia Belles was shoved forward, the Deltan schoolteacher paraded naked before her own students. Tan’Alac gestured to the stunning bald beauty. “This is a Deltan. Her homeworld’s location is not tactically significant, and the sensitivity of her countrywomen will make their pacification and control relatively easy. As a result practice on women of her species is of secondary importance. She and the other Deltans have been made a low ration priority, to be cut in the event of shortages.”
Belles and her highschool students gasped in sudden fear at the news that they were all expendable. As the nude schoolteacher was yanked back, her tits jiggling, Tan’Alac continued. “I advise that you make extensive use of these females while you have the chance.”
Then it was Deanna Troi’s turn.
The
As the First spoke the Jem’Hadar soldier holding Troi ran one hand up her wide hips and then grabbed at one of the counselor’s soft melons, making the brunette cringe. “The telepathic contact between her people provide effective hostage options and her homeworld’s location is of great tactical significance,” continued Tan’Alac. “The occupation of Betazoid and the enslavement of women like her is a Dominion priority.”
Deanna Troi’s dark eyes widened as she heard the Jem’Hadar’s words. The thought of Dominion troops occupying her home and inflicting this kind of humiliation on other Betazoid women filled the nude twenty-nine year old with dread.
Last came the redheaded Ensign Hedril, the youngest of the seven women on display. The eighteen year old whimpered as her gorgeous body was pushed forward, turned left and right so that her newly-plumped breasts were displayed to each and every Jem’Hadar in the room. “This is a Cairn. Her species possesses specialized telepathic gifts.” The soldier holding the teenager ran one hand beneath the swell of the young woman’s breasts, making her tremble, then gave one of her boobs a squeeze and made her yelp. “Her homeworld is not yet part of the Federation, making it a vulnerable target of opportunity. It is likely that our first deployment will require the taming of women like this one.”
The Cairn’s blue eyes showed absolute shock. “My world?” she
gasped, “You couldn’t possibly want to do this to the women of my world eeeee!!” Hedril’s
objections became a squeal of distress as her both her tits were vigorously
squeezed.
“Deploy your trans-neural induction stimulators,” Tan’Alac ordered even as he gripped one of T’Pol’s udders and lifted, forcing the nude Vulcan stand on the tips of her toes. On his command each of the Jem’Hadar produced a small round metal device about an inch across and a quarter of an inch thick. “They will adhere to bare skin and through pubic hair.”
“The Orions simply call them pacifiers,” Papilia added helpfully.
B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol wiggled helplessly against the Jem’Hadar holding them as the evil-looking devices were set on the bare skin just above their delicious vaginas. Women across the room whimpered and squealed as they felt the cold metal adhere to their sensitive skin, each captive now wearing a little silver device an inch above their snatch.
“The device’s ideal setting is just below what will render the captive unconscious.” As he spoke Tan’Alac twisted the small dial on T’Pol’s pacifier. As the setting rose the Vulcan’s eyes widened, her back arching and her bare breasts trembling on her chest as a deep pleasuring warmth radiated out from just above her clitoris. She could feel it moistening her nethers, the lips of her pussy growing puffy and excited as tremors of joy made her limbs shake. Her plump lips opened slackly in unbelieving ecstasy.
The effect on the Deltans was immediate. Their ultra-sensitive bodies needed little stimulation and the pacifiers were almost unnecessary, requiring only a low setting to render each obedient and pliable. The fifteen high school girls squealed and giggled and cried as they cummed, long legs shaking beneath their firm teenaged bodies. Alia Belles opened her mouth in a silent scream of pleasure, her hazel eyes rolling back. One by one the Deltans slumped against their Jem’Hadar assailants, powerful hands supporting each girl by her bare breasts to keep the unconscious beauties on their feet. Their pacifiers obviously needed a lower setting.
Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol were not far behind. Their Orion-conditioning had lowered their pleasure thresholds and heightened the sensitivity of their erogenous zones. Like the Deltans, the three heroines required only a low setting to set their bodies ablaze with ecstasy. Deanna Troi wailed as a climax ripped through her, the voluptuous Betazoid’s curves falling back against the Jem’Hadar behind her. T’Pol would have recognized him as Ninth K’Mataclan if she had not also been howling with pleasure, and would have fallen forwards if not for Tan’Alac’s hands around her tits. B’Elanna writhed, tossing her head and flicking her head around her face as orgasms burst through the twenty-two year old’s body, the Maquis finally fainting in ecstasy. Held by the waist by her Jem’Hadar, the brunette doubled forward with her tits dangling beneath her.
The rest of the captives followed. The Bajorans lacked the sensitivity of Deltans or the conditioned heroines, but the Orion-designed pacifiers were more than enough to tame them. Teenagers shrieked and screamed, tears running down their cheeks as orgasms shredded what little was left of the acolytes’ dignity. Lanlee Milos wept and trembled as her snatch flooded with heat and moisture, her blue eyes rolling up in her head as the pleasure drove her unconscious. Ensign Hedril let out a high-pitched squeal, her enhanced breasts quivering on her chest. Shelby and Lefler shook their heads left and right as they shrieked in orgasm, their voices joining those of the other young women before they slumped back into the waiting arms of their Jem’Hadar assailants, their tits heaving as they gasped for air.
Having found the breaking threshold for each prisoner, the Dominion soldiers slightly reduced the settings and allowed the prisoners to regain consciousness. The swooning, perspiring and panting women moaned as they awoke, now held in a deeply pleasurable state by the pacifiers each captive wore above their throbbing pussies.
“You can’t do this,” the redheaded Lanlee begged even through her ecstasy. “Not to my sisters! They’ve taken vows of chastity!” The stripped and helpless acolytes trembled and sobbed, all of them teenagers and none of them having ever felt a man’s intimate touch.
Papilia shrugged. “Be gentle with the virgins,” she told Tan’Alac. Then she smiled wickedly. “Just kidding, go wild.”
Tan’Alac’s order made each naked woman in the chamber stiffen in fear. “Penetrate!”
The soldiers moved with trained precision. The captives yelped as cruel Jem’Hadar hands reached around them to grab and firmly squeeze a breast. Each man’s free hand dropped to grab their captive’s thigh and lift it. Bajoran and Deltan teenagers whimpered and cried as they were forced to lift one leg, baring their pussy lips. Held up by a tit and a thigh each captive stood on the toes of their free foot, trembling to hold their balance, unable to offer any resistance.
Held in the same posture, T’Pol looked down with apprehension and saw Tan’Alac’s worm-like cock pulse and twitch. It was almost prehensile, maneuvering itself about to aim upwards at the Vulcan’s vulnerable nethers. The organ’s blunt nose nuzzled against the science officer’s slit, rubbing against her already-quivering pussy lips.
With a sudden snakelike movement the muscular tool narrowed and slid up inside her, burying itself deep in T’Pol’s pussy!
And then it widened. The muscular bands of Tan’Alac’s penis tensed and swelled, filling T’Pol’s vaginal canal to capacity and firmly lodging itself in her passage. Her eyes widened at the sensation, realizing that it would be difficult in the extreme to remove the Jem’Hadar’s meatsock from her snatch even as pleasure burst in her snatch.
Across the chamber woman cried out in distress as their vaginas were filled with Jem’Hadar cock. Vedek Lanlee cried as she watched her youthful acolytes mewl in protest, lips making ‘o’ shapes at the sensation of meat broadening within their tight kitties. Then the redheaded priestess screamed as her own pussy was invaded.
Alia Belles shut her eyes, unwilling to see the high school girls she had cared for being violated, their beautiful hairless bodies trembling with unwanted pleasure. Robin Lefler’s braid danced left and right as she wriggled in distress, staring down in disbelief at the sight of her own pussy being crammed full of Jem’Hadar cock.
“Bend them,” Tan’Alac ordered, demonstrating by forcing T’Pol to lean forward heavily, positioning her feet at shoulder width with her bare breasts swaying beneath her. “This position makes resistance difficult.” The Vulcan’s eyes opened wide as she felt the Jem’Hadar’s broad meat slide backwards in her passage and then push forward deeply, each muscular ridge of his penis stretching her pussy lips and creating a wonderful sensation. T’Pol’s dangling breasts swung forwards and backwards with each pumping movement.
Quickly every woman in the chamber was positioned accordingly. Thirty five pairs of breasts swayed with the rhythm of their fucking, each woman’s vaginal lips stretched by broad Jem’Hadar meat. Women wailed and cried and cummed, their pacifiers ensuring that pleasure overwhelmed all other sensations and any thought of resistance.
“Remember to keep expanding,” Papilia ordered. “We need these cunts nice and wide.” At her words T’Pol realized with horror that Tan’Alac’s meat did feel wider than it had been a moment before, as if the Jem’Hadar was purposely swelling his organ in her vagina and stretching her passage ever so slightly.
With mechanical rhythm the Jem’Hadar violated the beautiful naked prisoners. “K’Mataclan, your Betazoid has fainted,” Tan’Alac barked. The Jem’Hadar Ninth pulled back Deanna Troi’s dark hair, checking her face. The counselor was indeed unconscious, her dark eyes rolled back in sheer pleasure as her voluptuous figure was shaken from hips to breasts by K’Mataclan’s deep thrusts. He adjusted her pacifier to a lower setting and the Betazoid moaned as she returned to consciousness. An instant after waking she screamed in ecstasy, the bliss of unconsciousness replaced by the pleasure and humiliation of her present reality.
Deanna Troi’s empathic gifts were
now a vicious curse. Not only did she suffer K’Mataclan’s
cock deep inside her and the pacifier above her snatch, but the Betazoid could
feel the same sensations pouring out of every other woman in the room. The
pleasure of thirty-four other women was tearing through her and eating at her
sanity. Her bare breasts bouncing beneath her Deanna Troi
shrieked in absolute pleasure, her black eyes rolling back in her head as she
almost fainted again.
B’Elanna Torres shook her hair out of her eyes as she gasped and groaned, her athletic Klingon body beginning to push back against the thrusting hips of the Jem’Hadar behind her. The pleasure was unbearable, the urge to reciprocate undeniable. And the Maquis was not the only one. Bajorans, Deltans and the humans were beginning to move in time with their assailants, pleasure-soaked bodies taking over for ecstasy-dazed minds.
Then Tan’Alac issued his next order. “Make them kneel!” Thirty five women gasped as they felt muscular Jem’Hadar cocks narrow and slide out of their snatches. First Tan’Alac’s hands gripped T’Pol’s curving hips and he pulled the science officer down to her knees. As the Vulcan groaned and swayed the Jem’Hadar First stepped around the kneeling brunette beauty, gripped her jaw and forced her pouting lips to part. Then his prehensile cock pushed its muscular mass between her lips and into T’Pol’s mouth!
“Mmmmpph!” objected the science officer, finding her complaints muffled by a mouthful of Jem’Hadar dick. The other women likewise made muted sounds of distress as the soldiers tending to them pushed their tools between their lips. Elizabeth Shelby rolled her eyes in humiliation. Ensign Hedril went crosseyed as she stared at the cock entering her mouth in disbelief. Robin Lefler’s long braid flicked and smacked her perfect ass she vainly tried to turn her head and keep the Jem’Hadar meat from her lips but she had no choice.
“Now the prisoner is forced to see the truth,” Tan’Alac declared, his tool pumping slowly into T’Pol’s mouth, the Vulcan science officer arching her back, her generous jugs quaking on her chest. “It is right in her face. She knows she is a possession of the Dominion.”
All across the chamber women quaked with this new ordeal. Vedek Lanlee moaned in distress as the priestess was forced to perform this disgusting and unfamiliar act. Her teenaged charges did no better, the naked and helpless eighteen year olds shutting their eyes and trying to keep their tongues away from the salty cocks filling their mouths. The Deltans fared only slightly better, knowing this technique but still having no desire to please the Jem’Hadar. The schoolgirls wiggled and whimpered, their bare breasts shaking left and right as their asses wiggling with their muffled objections. Alia Belles looked up at the Jem’Hadar she was servicing with anger in her eyes that this intimate act was being so cruelly used by their captors. That anger was mirrored in B’Elanna Torres’ eyes as Voyager’s chief engineer ran her lips back and forth over the cock of a Jem’Hadar.
Deanna Troi, meanwhile, rolled her
dark eyes in overwhelming humiliation. Her soft milky melons swaying as her
hips helplessly gyrated, the
Nude and on her knees, T’Pol could only look upwards at the face of the Jem’Hadar whose cock she was sucking. Looking down at the defeated Vulcan with satisfaction First Tan’Alac drew his organ from her plump lips, leaving her briefly free to gasp with relief. Then his prehensile cock smacked itself against T’Pol’s regal features. The science officer flinched, flushing in fresh embarrassment, and flinched again as the First continued to cockslap her. Her tits jiggled every time she was struck by the Jem’Hadar’s cock, this new degrading experience making her quake in humiliation.
“Invert them!” Tan’Alac barked.
The other women in the chamber woman gasped for air as Jem’Hadar cocks were pulled from their mouths. Then the nude and gorgeous captives gasped again as they were pushed onto their backs, thirty-five sets of breasts bouncing as every captive found herself flat on her back. Then the powerful hands of the Jem’Hadar reached down to grab ankles, lifting legs and parting thighs. Teenaged Bajorans cried out in shame as their delicious pussies were exposed against their will. Deltan schoolgirls wiggled enticingly, tits jiggling left and right as they were hoisted upside-down by their ankles, their necks, shoulders and heads against the floor while their legs were pulled upwards.
Like the others, Elizabeth Shelby now found herself upside-down with her legs in the air. The blonde Captain looked up, between the dangling orbs of her breasts, along her flat stomach to where her thighs were forced to part. Her blue eyes widened in terror as she watched a prehensile Jem’Hadar penis snake about before thrusting down into the Starfleet officer’s vagina, once again filling her with cock.
Yelps and cries rang out through the chamber as pussy lips were parted, cocks plunging down into helpless kitties. Each woman was pulled up a little higher, their legs spreading wider and drawing a few more inches of hard meat into their snatches. The chamber filled with shrieks and moans of pleasure.
“Resume!” ordered Tan’Alac. Now upside-down, T’Pol endured Tan’Alac’s quick short thrusts, her generous globes bouncing on her chest and almost threatening to hit the well-endowed Vulcan in the face. With a dazed expression she looked over to see B’Elanna and Troi in identical positions, their breasts hanging towards their faces and their legs spread in the air as they were violated. “This position affords only shallow penetration but disorients the victim,” the Jem’Hadar First said, never slowing his thrusts into T’Pol’s delicious pussy.
After a few minutes of this humiliating ordeal Tan’Alac gave another order. “Lift them!” He pulled the lean-bodied T’Pol upright so that she was now sitting on his cock. Her long legs automatically wrapped around his waist, involuntarily pulling his hips tightly against her own and sliding his cockmeat deeper into the Vulcan’s snatch. The other Jem’Hadar followed suit, hauling up Deltan schoolgirls and Bajoran acolytes and Starfleet officers so that they were clutching at their assailants with their long legs.
B’Elanna moaned as she ground her hips against those of her Jem’Hadar and Deanna Troi wept into K’Mataclan’s shoulder as she rode his meatstick. Both brunettes gyrated sexily, pressing their breasts against the chests of their assailants.
“This posture uses the female’s own bodyweight to encourage deeper penetration,” the First stated, holding onto T’Pol’s bottom as he lifted the Vulcan up and down his cock, each muscular band stretching her pussy and making the woman shudder with pleasure. Lanlee Mios and Alia Belles were both crying openly, tears streaming down their faces as they were hoisted up ten inches of Jem’Hadar pole and allowed to slide back down, every thrust making their vaginas moister and more pliable for what was to come. Shelby and Lefler yelped with each tit-bouncing thrust, and the gorgeous Ensign Hedril leaned back and let her pink-nippled tits dance as she was vigorously fucked.
“Mount them!” Thirty five women were laid on their backs, breasts heaving with their quick breaths. Their legs were spread wide and the Jem’Hadar lay upon them, thrusting deeply into the pussies of their captives. Each woman wailed and wriggled and bucked as fresh pleasure blasted through mind and body. “Now she feels your weight, sees your face, and feels your hands upon her.” To emphasize the point Tan’Alac took hold of T’Pol’s breasts and mashed them across her chest, squeezing a squeal of pleasure from the helpless science officer. “Their defeat is undeniable.”
The Jem’Hadar pounded into their victims with trained rhythm. Breasts that were not being cruelly squeezed instead bounced on chests as the women were vigorously fucked. The sandals and thigh-high socks on Lanlee Milos’ long legs kicked beside Alia Belles’ calf-high leather boots, also lifted in the air. Teen thighs spread involuntarily and backs arched as each captive suffered their own bound wrists behind their backs. And as they pumped in and out of each helpless woman the Jem’Hadar steadily fattened their muscular cocks within them, stretching the vaginas of the captives, preparing them for the inevitable order.
“Now,” Tan’Alac ordered, grabbing T’Pol’s ankles and spreading her legs wider still, “Impregnate!”
T’Pol’s full lips opened wide as a mass traveled down the First’s cock, stretched her pussy lips and plunged into her vaginal canal! The Jem’Hadar’s egg felt as large as a baseball and it caused the most incredible sensation as it was squeezed deep into her body. At that instant the Vulcan climaxed, her pussy clenching tightly and squeezing Tan’Alac’s meatstick. The motion almost sucked the egg into her, the seed launching deep into T’Pol’s vulnerable womb. Even as the Vulcan drew breath to scream she felt a second egg plunge after the first, working its way into her still-spasming pussy!
The other women in the chamber howled in orgasm, each feeling an egg plunge deep into her, each snatch stretching to allow the bulky seeds into their bodies. Naked bodies bucked and spasmed, breasts bouncing on chests as the captives were forcibly impregnated. Elizabeth Shelby’s long legs spread wider as a Jem’Hadar thrust his egg into the blonde’s snatch. The bald and mouthwatering students of Alia Belles squealed and wriggled, their feet kicking uselessly in the air as their wombs were filled. Milos Lanlee’s acolytes wailed in helpless ecstasy, their vows of chastity now thoroughly violated and their quaking pussies filled with the seeds of the Jem’Hadar.
After nearly a minute of wails and gasps and writhing ecstasy the teenagers and young women began to grow still. Their mission accomplished, the Jem’Hadar shut down the pacifiers affixed above each victim’s snatch, withdrew their cocks from the still-trembling pussies of their captives and stood.
As Tan’Alac conferred with his men Papilia looked over the end result of their efforts. The thirty-five women were left panting and shuddering on the ground, legs still spread and eyes shut in disbelief at what had just transpired. Deltan schoolgirls had been impregnated. Federation personnel now suffered a slight swelling in the bellies from the mass in their wombs. Nude and kneeling Bajoran priestesses pressed their thighs together beneath their pussies, shutting their eyes and whispering prayers of disbelief. The pacifiers attached just above their pussies were now inactive but remained in place, and with their hands bound none of the women could do anything to remove them.
“Oh my gawd,” wailed one of the
nude and bound schoolgirls, “I’m pregnant!”
With the sound of her voice other girls lifted their faces and cried out, their
voices filled with disbelief and still trembling with the unbelievable pleasure
each of them had just endured.
“First, report!” the Vorta ordered.
Tan’Alac turned and stood straight despite the nakedness of his muscular body, his organ now curling between his legs. “Thirty two successful implantations, and three successful double implantations.” He gestured to Alia Belles, Robin Lefler and one of the Bajoran teenagers, all of whom were staring at their bellies which now protruded slightly more than those of their fellow captives.
Papilia directed a curious glance at where T’Pol lay moaning on the ground, rolling so that her heavy breasts flopped together. “You didn’t give our lovely science officer a double dose, Tan’Alac?”
“I attempted, but I do not believe the second implantation will take.”
Just at that moment T’Pol felt her pussy spasm. The Vulcan let out a throaty moan, arching her back so that only her heels and head touched the floor. Tan’Alac took hold of her arm and lifted the science officer onto her shaky legs. The Vulcan’s head bowed as she stared at her own bald pussy.
Another spasm made her slit tremble. T’Pol let out a deep wail, tears running down her cheeks as pleasure poured through her. Something was descending through her vaginal canal, something broad that stretched her narrow tunnel. The first egg was deep in her womb but the second had not completed the journey. Now her body was ejecting it!
With a sharp cry and an ecstatic jerk that would have made her fall if Tan’Alac had not been holding her upright, T’Pol felt the egg pop out of her pussy. The dark rubbery oval bounced on the deck and spun away, coming to rest a few meters from where she stood naked and quaking. Almost immediately the egg ruptured and shriveled in the air.
“As long as the big-titted cow has got one in there,” Papilia allowed. “Thank you First, I’ll take it from here. Have your men take in some fluids before you return.”
T’Pol was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, landing on her heavy tits and crying out at the sensation. She rolled, legs curling up in the memory of her impregnation, and stared up at a Jem’Hadar as he passed her on his way out of the chamber.
“How was the show?” she asked bitterly.
“Informative,” answered K’Mataclan.
Left alone with Papilia watching over them, the captives groaned and panted in the aftermath of orgasm and impregnation. Thighs pressed together around their recently-abused slits. The blonde Shelby joined Ensign Hedril beside a moaning Robin Lefler, the green-eyed Junior Lieutenant lying with her long legs curled up to cover her pregnant belly. Deltan and Bajoran teenagers clustered together, bound and naked figures wiggling until they could feel the warmth of a body that was not bent on violating them. Alia and Lanlee rolled and crawled as best as they could with their hands bound behind their backs, joining their defeated charges. Meanwhile T’Pol and B’Elanna wriggled sexily across to metal floor to where Deanna lay.
The Betazoid had not moved. She lay on her back, legs spread wide and her tits heaving for air. The counselor’s normally flat stomach was slightly swollen with a Jem’Hadar egg and her dark eyes were open but glazed, and her lips were slackly parted. “Deanna?” Torres whispered, working herself up onto her knees and leaning over the stunned counselor, the Klingon’s lovely boobs dangling. “Can you hear me?”
“Ooohhh,” the voluptuous brunette groaned, her eyelids fluttering and then opening wide. “My god that was too much. I can’t shut it out.” Surprisingly the Betazoid’s vagina lips were tight and trim despite the enormous organ she had been forced to take. The other women likewise showed no signs of their recent violation apart from their swollen bellies: it seemed that Papilia’s ‘modifications’ had made all her captives more resilient, their naked bodies more suited to her evil schemes.
“It will be alright,” T’Pol said, knowing that it was a lie. Even now she was sharply aware of the mass in her belly, the Jem’Hadar egg so cruelly pushed into her womb. T’Pol, B’Elanna Torres and Deanna Troi had been captured, bound, stripped naked, milked and now impregnated, and the Vulcan could see no way out of this endless ordeal.
“You monster,” cursed Alia Belles, the schoolteacher curled up against the quivering bodies of her Deltan students, her long legs pulled up in front of her recently-ravished snatch. “You evil soulless bitch! Why are you doing this?”
Papilia lifted her hands helplessly. “It’s not my fault your breasts and wombs are such valuable resources, Deltan. My soldiers can conquer a world and use its female population as a source of Ketrecel White and of more Jem’Hadar. Give them a little while and the eggs will borrow a few choice pieces of your DNA, not to mention resistances to local diseases that your species took a few million years to evolve. In the end we get new breeds of Jem’Hadar better suited for conquest in the Alpha Quadrant.”
“My sisters are pure of heart and mind!” Vedek Lanlee’s pink-nippled tits dangled as she leaned forward to accuse the Vorta. “You would use them as whores for training your wicked soldiers!”
“You are whores training my wicked soldiers,” Papilia replied airily. “Didn’t you get the memo? It was delivered directly to your tight Bajoran cunt, you tight Bajoran cunt. Your sisters should thank me for helping them get some action.”
Kneeling naked at Deanna’s side B’Elanna Torres lifted her head, dark hair framing her outraged expression. “You would do this to every woman on every Federation world!”
“Not every world.” The Vorta ran
one hand up the cleavage produced by her tight vest compressing her round
breasts. “Take your planet, Klingon. We might find it easier to exterminate every
living thing. In the long term we’ll probably keep the Deltan species around for
breeding stock. They’re so sensitive they probably don’t even need pacifiers.
Simpler logistics that way,” she added.
“You will be stopped,” promised Hedril, the redheaded Ensign now kneeling with her thighs clenched tightly around her lovely pink pussy lips.
“Not by you,” the Vorta answered
with a quick smile. “By the way, the eggs don’t take long to do their thing
inside you. In fact…” She remotely adjusted the women’s gravshacks.
Immediately each captive was hoisted to her feet, wrists lifted high above
heads so that their toes only barely touched the floor. “You should start
feeling it any second… now.”
B’Elanna Torres yelped. She stared down past her own bare breasts to her snatch and emitted another sharp cry that sunk into a low mewling sound. Hanging from her restraints she began to wiggle and writhe in a very un-Klingon way, her hips swaying from side to side as she felt the Jem’Hadar egg begin its journey out of her body. The twenty-two year old suddenly cried out loud, arching her back and almost lifting herself by her gravshacks. Her voice grew in pitch and volume and then she was lifting herself, legs kicking in the air, tits jumping on her chest, thighs spreading and the lips of her pussy stretching as something dark and wide crowned.
With a popping sound B’Elanna Torres gave birth. The fertilized Jem’Hadar egg bounced like a rubber ball when it hit the ground. The Klingon slumped and hung limp in her restraints, tits heaving as she panted for air.
All eyes in the room were on the egg. Where the previous failed implantation had been a simple dark blue oval this one was covered with a spiderweb of veins as the Jem’Hadar embryo within took shape. Unlike the failed egg this one did not collapse once it touched the air but pulsed silently with growing life.
Then the other women felt it. Teenagers wept and yelped and moaned and mewled. Tits trembled and jiggled and leapt on chests as the captives felt their vaginal passages stretch. Hips swayed and gyrated, bottoms wiggling and thighs spreading. Tender pussies stretched and the women were forced through yet one more climax as their overstimulated bodies gave birth to egg after egg after egg.
T’Pol shrieked as she gave birth. Deanna Troi fainted yet again, empathically feeling the sensations experienced by all the women in the chamber. Alia Belles suffered a pair of births as the two eggs in her womb forced their way out. Robin Lefler gasped and yelped, her enlarged breasts bobbing on her chest with her rapid breathing as her slim hips finally permitted her eggs to exit her womb.
It took just over five minutes before the last woman popped out her fertilized seed. Then the room was silent, except for Papilia’s clapping. “Well done. Another… thirty eight Jem’Hadar to add to my collection! They’ll go well with the Ketrecel White I milked out of you all!”
The Jem’Hadar who had so recently ravished the captives now returned, this time to scoop up the eggs produced and deliver them to a fluid-filled barrel that was wheeled into the chamber. They moved among the naked captives quickly and economically, clearing the room of eggs in less than a minute and sending the now-stuffed vat on its way.
Tan’Alac looked towards the Vorta, who gave him a nod. The First turned about. “Ninth K’Mataclan, I noticed that your efforts drove the Betazoid to unconsciousness.”
K’Mataclan’s eyes shifted to the voluptuous curves of Deanna Troi, who flinched as she felt his eyes on her naked figure. “A mistake I will correct on my next attempt, First.”
“No rush,” the leader of the Jem’Hadar said as he stepped over to B’Elanna Torres, pulling the twenty-two year old upright by her tits, “This time you are assigned to the Vulcan T’Pol.”
The Klingon’s eyes shut as the Jem’Hadar First squeezed her breasts in his powerful fingers. “You’re going to impregnate us again?” Torres exclaimed, biting her lip as Tan’Alach pinched and twisted her sensitive nipples, “So soon?”
“Did I mention I had an abundance of White?” piped up Papilia, “Another forty or so Jem’Hadar should be sufficient.”
The women across the chamber wailed and cried as the process
began again. Deltans sobbed as their sensitive tits were grabbed and lifted. Bajorans gasped in shame and anticipation as they felt one
knee grabbed and forced to lift high, parting their thighs and exposing their
delicious pussies. Starfleet personnel cried out, all dignity and self-control
gone as Jem’Hadar cocks slid deep into their vaginas.
+++++
T’Pol was doubled over at the waist, tits swaying beneath her body as she was relentlessly fucked. In disbelief she found herself missing the relative peace and comfort of being milked by one of Papilia’s machines. Pleasure boiled up inside her as the Jem’Hadar’s muscular meat widened in her passage, his hands on her hips drawing the Vulcan’s round bottom back against his crotch, plunging his cock deep into T’Pol’s pussy.
And then she felt a hand sneak beneath her belly and find the pacifier adhered above her bald pussy. With a twist of a dial it was tuned down to zero. The pleasure faded, although not so far. T’Pol’s Orion-conditioned body still delighted at the sensation of such deep and thorough penetration but her mind was clearing.
“Vulcan?” The voice in her thoughts shocked the Vulcan. With Deanna Troi’s empathic abilities serving as a relay between T’Pol and B’Elanna, the Vulcan was now very familiar with telepathic contact. But she was not familiar with the voice presently ringing in her mind. It repeated. “Vulcan, answer me.”
With military precision every Jem’Hadar in the chamber switched tactics. T’Pol, like the other captives, was dropped to her knees, the Jem’Hadar’s organ retreating from her pussy so that the soldier could step around in front of her. Strong hands gripped her jaw and forced her mouth open, and then the soldier’s cock thrust in between her pouting lips.
“Vulcan, answer me!” The voice in her thoughts was as real as the taste of the Jem’Hadar’s meat in her mouth.
With her eyes wide and her full lips open around a Jem’Hadar cock, T’Pol looked upwards at the soldier she was fellating. “Mmmph?” she managed.
“You can hear me.” The grey-skinned man’s eyes met the Vulcan’s. “You know me as Ninth K’Mataclan. I attempted to communicate with the Betazoid but I believe she was overwhelmed by what she sensed from the other women in the room. Her abilities must be far more sensitive than mine.”
Even as her bare breasts swayed as she bobbed forwards and backwards along K’Mataclan’s cock, T’Pol rallied her Vulcan discipline and formulated a mental reply. “You’re an empath?”
“I am a Jem’Hadar.” The soldier kept his hand on T’Pol’s head, forcing her to obediently continue sliding her plump lips along the length of his cock. The Vulcan realized that K’Mataclan was being carefully not to expose himself to the other soldiers. He continued to molest T’Pol just as he had been ordered to, maintaining the illusion of this activity while trying to covertly communicate with her.
“Since taking the White extracted from the Betazoid, I have begun to sense things from others.” On cue K’Mataclan pulled his organ from T’Pol’s mouth and pushed her onto her back. His hands gripped T’Pol’s ankles and lifted her by her legs, the science officer now positioned upside-down with her long thighs spreading and her shoulders against the floor. The posture forced T’Pol’s head to face upward, looking up the valley of her breasts, over her flat stomach to the Jem’Hadar’s prehensile cock, hovering above the science officer’s hairless kitty. “It is horror.”
T’Pol’s breasts dangled towards her face and her long legs spread wide. “How is it possible for you have become empathic?” Then she shut her eyes in pleasure as his organ wormed its way into her vagina, the tender folds of her pussy stretching to permit his penis passage. “And why tell me?” the Vulcan added once the pleasure in her throbbing snatch had eased again.
K’Mataclan resumed his pumping, making the upside-down science officer’s tits bounce towards her beautiful full-lipped face. “I do not know. The Vorta sometimes possess psychic abilities but it is unknown in the Jem’Hadar.”
Even with the pacifier off T’Pol felt pleasure pouring through her body as her tight passage was filled with the Ninth’s broad meat. The Vulcan tried to organize her thoughts. “Perhaps the Founders included a code for telepathy in your genetic structure, as a weapon, but never activated it.” Her thoughts were scattered by the sensation of K’Mataclan’s organ widening in her channel, making T’Pol jerk with spasmodic pleasure.
When the ecstasy was bearable again, the science officer
continued. “It is also possible that telepathy is a natural gift of your
species but the Founders repressed it, to make you more controllable. Who knows
what the original form of the Jem’Hadar
were before your genes were tampered with. Perhaps their modifications
did not make you stronger, but weaker,
and easier to control.”
Through the mental link that now existed between T’Pol and the Jem’Hadar fucking her, K’Mataclan received the Vulcan’s theory and considered it. The soldier drew the Vulcan’s ankles far apart, spreading her long thighs as he pistoned in and out of her. “Your species can mind-meld with others. Can you stop the voices I hear?”
T’Pol felt both hope and despair
surge inside her. This Jem’Hadar K’Mataclan
could empathically sense their torment but his first impulse was to repress
those feelings. The
The Vulcan whooped as she was pulled upright, finding herself face to face with K’Mataclan. Her breasts pressed hard against the soldier’s broad chest and her long legs wrapped tightly around his waist. “This army she is building is for use against the Dominion,” she insisted mentally. “That is why there are no other Vorta and why this base is dangerously located in the Federation, rather than a Dominion-controlled world.”
Her rational mind was briefly lost in a daze of pleasure as the Ninth grabbed the Vulcan’s buttocks and lifted her up, extracting eight inches of his shaft from T’Pol’s snatch, and then slowly lowered her back down every incredible ridge and bump. With pure will the science officer focused her attention on trying to win the Jem’Hadar over to her side. “She would make war against your masters!”
She could feel K’Mataclan’s presence in her mind as clearly as she could feel his hands on her bottom, his thoughts searching the Vulcan’s mind for sincerity. “You speak truly,” the Jem’Hadar admitted, dragging the pleasure-wracked Vulcan up and down the length of his cock. “Then the Vorta must be eliminated.”
“She has a killswitch!” T’Pol managed to transmit once her eyes had rolled back down and her gasping cries had faded. She tightened her legs around the Jem’Hadar’s waist, trying to slow his thrusts and failing miserably as he lifted her by the bottom for yet another incredible journey up and down his broad muscular organ, her bare breasts rubbing against his chest. “She wears it on her belt and she can use it to terminate all the Jem’Hadar in the base!”
The Vulcan gasped in shock as she was suddenly laid on her back, her legs spreading wide to allow the Jem’Hadar access to her snatch. Like all the other women in the chamber T’Pol now lay beneath the weight of a Dominion soldier, his meat firmly lodged in her pussy.
“I believe it is possible to free you and the other prisoners.” K’Mataclan gripped T’Pol’s bare breasts and squeezed, fingers digging into her soft titflesh. The Vulcan writhed, her back arching and her legs spreading even wider as pleasure poured through her. “There are tunnels throughout this mountain range. One leads from the storage chamber to the surface and could serve as an escape route.” He began a thrusting rhythm, pumping deep into the Vulcan’s snatch and making the soft tits in his hands jolt. “The traitor’s plans will be ruined and your captivity ended.”
As she climbed towards orgasm T’Pol wasn’t sure she wanted it to end. Her pussy clenched tightly around K’Mataclan’s tool as she cummed with a squeal, but the ordeal was not over. The Jem’Hadar continued to thrust into the Vulcan who soon found herself rising towards yet another climax. “What about Papilia and the Jem’Hadar? And the Vulcan authorities must be told of what is taking place here!”
“I will handle my brother Jem’Hadar,” K’Mataclan answered mentally. “Papilia will be up to you.”
His hands abandoned T’Pol’s tits as the man lifted himself higher, pumping into the Vulcan’s slit with new vigor and depth. Even without the aid of the pacifier above her pussy the science officer was flying headlong towards another orgasm. T’Pol’s mouth opened in disbelieving pleasure, her eyes rolling and her back arching, tits jumping on her chest in time to the Jem’Hadar’s energetic thrusts. All around her was a chorus of wails, women’s voices lifted in helpless pleasure as they were violated, feet in the air and breasts bouncing with their rhythmic fucking.
“If I do not implant an egg within you,” K’Mataclan warned, pounded deeply into T’Pol’s cunt and making her generous breasts dance on her chest, “Then another Jem’Hadar surely will.”
Taking deep breaths in a futile effort to calm herself, T’Pol managed to look the Jem’Hadar in the eye. She spoke aloud but softly so that only he could hear. “Impregnate me. It is only logical.” Then all logic and self-control abandoned her as K’Mataclan pumped into the science officer’s slit with even greater speed, widening and stiffening his organ in her channel.
T’Pol screamed in orgasm as she felt the swell of an egg travel up her vaginal canal and plunge into her womb. Her back arching and her nipples trembling on her chest, the science officer shut her eyes as she endured a bone-shaking climax. Then she shrieked a pitch higher as she felt a second egg stretch her narrow passage and dive up into her belly. But it was the third that reduced T’Pol to a squeal of helpless ecstasy, another mass sliding through her tightness to take up residence in her womb. Her long legs clutched around K’Mataclan’s waist and her mouth involuntarily kissed and bit his neck and shoulder, her Vulcan poise shattered and her body responding to sheer instinct.
The Jem’Hadar ceased his pumping
and straightened, his muscular organ narrowing and sliding free of T’Pol’s pussy.
T’Pol’s bare breasts heaved as she panted for air, staring at her impregnated waistline. “It was informative,” she breathed.
Once again the gasping and defeated women were abandoned by the Jem’Hadar, left until the eggs in their wombs had completed their parasitic theft of genetic material and were ready to be birthed. Girls wriggled across the chamber, tits flopping as they rolled, asses in the air as they crawled, forming into groups to comfort and console each other.
T’Pol wiggled towards Deanna Troi, who yet again had been rendered unconscious from the sheer weight of pleasure she received empathically from the other women in the chamber. She was joined a moment later by a still-quaking B’Elanna Torres, the twenty-two year old’s athletic figure glistening with perspiration and trembling after the orgasms First Tan’Alac powerful thrusts and groping hands had forced her to endure.
Leaning over Deanna’s heaving chest so that her own dangling breasts almost brushed nipples with the Betazoid’s teats, T’Pol concentrated and sent the empath a simple message.
“We’re getting out of here.”
The counselor’s dark eyes widened. Shaking off the pleasure-induced haze the voluptuous brunette sat up, shutting her eyes to concentrate. A few seconds later B’Elanna Torres looked up in surprise, having received the message. Then Shelby, Hedril and Robin Lefler turned to look with sudden hope at T’Pol. Then Alia Belles and her Deltan schoolgirls perked up, despair melting from their beautiful faces. The message made Vedek Milos Lanlee and her Acolytes stare at each other with wide eyes.
“They need to be ready,” thought T’Pol, “They need hope.”
Then their gravshacks were lifting them up, forcing their wrists above their heads, and each woman felt a Jem’Hadar egg stir inside their womb. Soon they were wiggling their hips and bottoms, tits shaking on their chests, tears popping into their eyes as wails were squeezed out of them. Tender pussies stretched as they crowned, the embryos they each carried surging downwards.
Egg after egg popped free. With each birthing a young woman cried out, cumming yet again as their bodies spasmed with ecstasy. Everywhere one looked there was a naked and bound beauty gyrating and crying in pleasure as they birthed a Jem’Hadar seed.
But even in the depth of this distress and humiliation and
unwanted ecstasy, they held onto the gift that T’Pol
had given them. The little spark of hope she had received from K’Mataclan gave them something to hold on to, strengthening
them in this darkest of hours as they gave birth for the Jem’Hadar.
+++++
Hours had passed since the session in the gymnasium.
Elizabeth Shelby, Robin Lefler and Ensign Hedril found themselves strapped into their milking rigs. Bajoran priestesses moaned into their masks as life-support tubes vibrated in their pussies and asses. Deltan schoolgirls wiggled and mewled, slim super-sensitive bodies trembling in tranquilized orgasm as their breasts were milked. Deanna Troi, B’Elanna Torres and T’Pol, the three women who had hoped to rescue these women from the Jem’Hadar trap were likewise restrained, tranquilized and milked like dairy cattle, their soft lush breasts yielding squirt after squirt of milk to the cruel devices yanking rhythmically on their nipples.
The tranquilizing mask lifted away from Alia Belles’ face, leaving the beautiful schoolteacher free to moan aloud as her milk was squeezed from her aching breasts. Her hazel eyes rolled in unwanted pleasure as Papilia’s cruel machines thoroughly exploited her too-sensitive Deltan body.
One by one the mechanized arms mounted to her milking rig disengaged. The tubes inserted into her pussy and ass retracted and the lower arm swung away from between the Deltan’s long trembling legs. The automated fingers plucking at her left breast released her nipple, and a second later the mechanical digits torturing her puffy right teat also withdrew.
Alia’s mind gradually became more focused. She could see, standing before her, the scar-faced Jem’Hadar Tan’Alac. One of his grey-skinned hands was on the naked shoulder of Lanlee Milos, the Bajoran Vedek kneeling naked at the soldier’s foot, her hands still bound behind her back and her long red hair falling forward to hide her pink nipples. Her blue eyes were downcast but briefly rose to meet Belles’ gaze, trying to make some kind of connection with her fellow captive.
“Are you with us yet, Miss Teacher?” asked the Vorta Papilia, smirking at the sight of the defeated Deltan. Belles’ eyes moved across the storage area where she could see other Jem’Hadar overseeing the release of female prisoners from their milking rigs. As she watched Bajoran priestesses and Deltan schoolgirls were unstrapped from their frames, gasping and whimpering as their slim teenaged bodies fell from their harnesses and into the arms of waiting soldiers.
Alia’s lovely hazel eyes focused on the Vorta. Deltan philosophy emphasized understanding and the celebration of differences, but Belles could find nothing but hate inside her for the pale-eyed Papilia.
“What,” the Deltan groaned, her bare breasts aching from the last milking session, “Do you want now?”
Papilia nodded to her Jem’Hadar First. Tan’Alac stepped forward and pulled away the velcro straps that held Alia to her milking rig. The schoolteacher’s curvy body fell forwards and she dropped to her knees. With her arms still secured behind her the Deltan only barely stopped herself from hitting the floor tits-first. She leaned forward heavily, her round rump in the air and her aching udders swaying beneath her.
The Vorta awarded the nude Deltan teacher with a sweet smile. “You’re going on a field trip, Miss.”
TO BE CONTINUED
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