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 18: SPACE SEEDED
Not for the first time, B’Elanna Torres awoke to the sight of her bare breasts dangling beneath her.
Her eyelids fluttering, the dazed twenty-two year old became aware of a rhythmic sound, moist but forceful, accompanied by a brief huff of air. She looked down and saw her right foot, touching the floor. For some reason her addled mind could not immediately comprehend she was standing on one leg, leaning forwards heavily.
Her other leg was lifted high above behind her by webbing wrapping her ankle, forcing the athletic Klingon to perform the splits. Voyager’s chief engineer was bound in exactly the same manner as Melika had been when the Maquis had seen her in Starheart’s cargo hanger. Torres lowered her head, dark hair falling around her face, to look at her own delicious dangling breasts. They were swaying forwards and backwards with a quick jiggling rhythm.
Between those lovely swaying peaks she could see her own taut stomach pulsing. Beyond that was the Maquis’ bare pussy lips, spread wide to allow the ovipositor organ of a Cavetrapper to pump rhythmically into her vagina!
That was the sound she had heard. The huffing breaths were her own, air pushed from her lungs as her body jerked in time with the pumping, her tits swaying forwards and back.
B’Elanna gasped, now fully awake, and realized her situation with a rising tide of panic. Hanging from the thick fibers that covered the ceiling was a female Cavetrapper, its abdomen curving so that it could access the Lieutenant’s vulnerable pussy!
“Not again!” Torres moaned, “Not again oh oh oh oh oooohhh!” Her cries grew louder and deeper as she felt the organ in her snatch stretch wide. The Cavetrapper was pushing its egg into her! “Huuuuhhh, oohhhh aahhhhh!”
“T’Pol?” whispered Deanna. “What’s happening? I can’t see?”
The Vulcan watched B’Elanna’s violation with wide eyes and plump parted lips. “The creature is impregnating Lieutenant Torres,” she breathed, realizing in horror that she was next in line.
Melika, B’Elanna, T’Pol and Deanna Troi were arranged in a neat row. Each beauty was bound with wrists behind her back, one leg up in the air, and her boobs hanging beneath her. Four pussies waited, unprotected from the Cavetrapper’s attention. Four pairs of long legs uncomfortably performed the splits. Four sets of breasts dangled beneath them like delicious fruit.
By ducking her head T’Pol was just able to see past B’Elanna’s jiggling tits to where Melika was bound. The gorgeous Andorian’s normally slim waistline was now swollen with the mass of a Cavetrapper egg in her womb. The teenager remained slack-faced and unresponsive as she hung motionless from her restraints.
“Melika has been captured,” the Vulcan observed. “Something must be wrong with her computer interface. She could have changed her holographic location and escaped the Cavetrapper at will.”
“When the ship was disabled it must have locked her hologram!” Deanna exclaimed, her boobs swaying beneath her as she wiggled her shoulders, trying to work her wrists free. Her dark eyes shut tight, tears running down her cheeks as the empath experienced B’Elanna’s ongoing pleasure and humiliation. “Melika? Can you hear me? Melika!”
“I don’t think uh uh huh that she can hear you,” panted Torres, the Klingon’s hips involuntarily thrusting back against the organ invading her snatch, deepening her pleasure and making the twenty-two year old’s dark eyes roll.
“We have been trapped on this planet for a week,” T’Pol said, having to lift her voice over B’Elanna’s moaning and panting. “She could have been its prisoner for nearly that entire time.”
Troi’s dark eyes were wide with sympathy. “Who knows how many times that thing has raped her?”
Voyager’s chief engineer cummed with a squeal, arching her back and thrusting her tits forward. The Cavetrapper performed one last, deep thrust and deposited its broad egg within the twenty-two year old’s womb. With a groan B’Elanna sunk back down, her entire body trembling from the incredible sensation and her belly swollen with the monster’s egg. “This thing,” she panted, “It needs both a male and a female bug, but once it’s fertilized it only takes an hour to gestate!”
T’Pol’s pouting lips moved in a
mental calculation. “Assuming frequent visits from the species, and
“Oh my god it’s horrible!” cried Deanna as she received a clear side-on view of T’Pol being violated, the science officer’s udders swaying beneath her with the pumping rhythm. The empath was also experiencing the Vulcan’s pleasure: already the Betazoid’s naked body was bucking, her hips shifting and her tits swaying as if it were her being mounted. “It’s too much to bear!”
“It’s not aahhh! Not so good for aahhh! For me either aahhh!!!” the Vulcan managed between thrusts.
Before B’Elanna could try to answer a chittering sound drew her attention. She wiggled in her restraints, tits jiggling as she looked towards where Melika stood bound and suspended. Climbing across the webbing on the ceiling was another Cavetrapper, larger than the other, with gleaming multicolored armor instead of fur. “Oh hell it’s a male! The male is already here!”
As the Klingon yelled the new arrival lowered its heavy abdomen to Melika’s rear end, a fleshy organ emerging from the tip of its tail. Its cock nuzzled intimately against the blue-skinned teenager’s slit. Even in her semi-conscious daze the holographic beauty responded to the touch, wiggling and mewling as her super-sensitive body was stimulated. Then she emitted a long, high-pitched cry as the Cavetrapper pushed its meat deep into her teen kitty and began to thrust.
“Oh shit,” B’Elanna whispered, shutting her eyes. To her right T’Pol moaned and bucked as she was violated, a female Cavetrapper slowly working its bulbous egg up the Vulcan’s vaginal canal. To her left Melika squealed and wiggled, the larger male Cavetrapper thrusting quickly and deeply into her slim body. “Shit, shit shit!” the twenty-two year old Torres breathed, knowing what was to come.
Melika’s cries grew higher in pitch as the male reached its peak. Its abdomen pulsed as it launched a heavy load of semen into the teenager’s holographic womb, fertilizing the egg already planted inside her. Then Torres’ heart froze as the monster disengaged from the Ensign’s spasming pussy and repositioned itself, this time above the helpless Klingon, and moved its enormous cock into position.
“Oh no please oh, oh oh ooohh aahhh!” B’Elanna let out a defeated wail as the male Cavetrapper stretched her pussy with its cock and plunged in deep. Now it was the Klingon’s turn to be mounted. Voyager’s chief engineer yelped and bucked in time to the fucking as the beast got to work fertilizing her.
Meanwhile T’Pol’s voice grew to an ear-piercing shriek, the Vulcan’s hyper-sensitive body driven to orgasm by the sensation of the female’s egg traveling up into her womb. Panting and swallowing nervously, she lowered her head to look back between the dangling fruit of her breasts to her belly, now freshly swollen with her pregnancy.
Meanwhile the female Cavetrapper
moved on to the voluptuous Deanna Troi. “Oh no!” she
begged, “Please, this can’t be happening! Oh god aaaaaeeeiiii!!!” The twenty-nine year old arched her back, boobs jiggling
forwards with her movement as the insect’s egg-laying organ wiggled into the Betazoid’s slit. The Cavetrapper
thrust its abdomen several times, working its tool deep into Troi’s vaginal canal, each pumping action forcing a new
squeal out of the raven-haired beauty. Finally satisfied with the depth it had
in Deanna’s snatch, the creature steadied its hold on the ceiling webbing and
began to steadily piston its abdomen, fucking Deanna Troi
as she writhed and squealed.
T’Pol, briefly unmolested by the creatures, diverted her eyes from the sight of her pregnant belly and spoke loudly. “Computer! Status report!”
“An unscheduled shutdown has interrupted vital systems.” The voice of the ship computer was that of Melika but lacked the Andorian Ensign’s spark and character. It was just a synthesized voice and nothing more. “Peripherals on standby awaiting reboot.”
“Reboot systems!” squealed Deanna as her boobs swayed forwards and back with the slow but relentless rhythm of the Cavetrapper’s humping. Already its organ was swollen with the mass of a fourth egg, moving steadily towards the counselor’s slit, eager to make a home of Troi’s ripe womb.
“Order received. Please provide command code.”
“What?” T’Pol demanded, “What command code? We’re the crew! Identify us!”
“Cargo bay sensors register T’Pol, Commander, Deanna Troi, Commander, B’Elanna Torres, Lieutenant, two unregistered life forms and a holographic projection. Please provide command code.”
“For the love of god just rebooooaaahhhhh!” Deanna Troi’s order became a
high-pitched squeal as the Cavetrapper’s egg reached
her snatch. Her pussy lips stretched wide as it worked its way into her vaginal
canal with excruciating slowness. In short order
“This is an emergency!” B’Elanna shrieked, before she shrieked in orgasmic pleasure as the male Cavetrapper’s thrusting cock pushed her to breaking point.
“Command code is required for reboot.”
There was no use. The computer was unmoved by their pleas and refused to obey. Meanwhile the Cavetrappers continued their vigorous work. Deanna Troi squealed in distress as her passage stretched to allow an egg into her womb. Almost the moment the mass was in her womb the female Cavetrapper dropped to the floor, workings its forelegs through the tiny tentacles that made up its mouth, and then departed the shuttlebay. With its four victims implanted with eggs, it seemed to have no interest in the male insect except to create as much distance between herself and him as possible. The Starfleet officers trapped in the cargo bay could only pray to be so lucky.
B’Elanna Torres wiggled uselessly in her restraints as the male Cavetrapper blew its load in her vagina, the Klingon’s tits swaying beneath her. Next was T’Pol, her plump lips opening in an ‘o’ of unwanted pleasure as her body jerked with each thrust. Deanna Troi was last, the voluptuous counselor wailing in ecstasy as her pussy was filled with the monster’s cum, fertilizing the egg within her. Despite being inside Starheart, within the safety of their own vessel, the three Starfleet officers had been turned into unwilling incubators for Torfik’s hideous creations.
And then a new humiliation began. The Cavetrapper maneuvered itself about on the ceiling, repositioning its abdomen to point towards Deanna’s face. The counselor, overwhelmed by the two consecutive fucking sessions, had no warning when the insect pushed its cock between her lips!
“Mmmmpph!” the wide-eyed Commander complained. Then her eyes crossed as the beast ejaculated into her mouth! She gagged and tried to turn her head, hoping to remove the creature’s penis from between her lips.
“Swallow, Deanna!” B’Elanna yelled, her boobs jiggling beneath her as she twisted. “It’s the only food or water we’ll get! You have to swallow!”
“It’s the only logical thing to do!” added T’Pol.
“Mmmpph mmmpphh?” Troi responded in disbelief, but the brunette steeled herself, shut her dark eyes, and gulped it down. Hot sticky semen was fired in jets into her mouth and over and over the counselor swallowed, taking everything the monster offered. When its cock left her lips she coughed and cried out in disgust, horrified by what she had just done.
The Cavetrapper moved back along the line, stopping at T’Pol. “It’s only logical,” the Vulcan told herself quickly, nervously licking her plump pouting lips as she watched the approaching cock with wide eyes. “It’s logical, it’s logical, it’s mmmmpphh!” Her eyes staring down her nose to the penis lodged in her mouth, T’Pol swallowed over and over as the insect ejaculated down her throat.
B’Elanna was next. The Klingon tried to ready herself, shifting the one foot she had on the ground to make herself more steady, her dangling boobs wiggling as she adjusted her position. But she was unprepared for the speed and force with which the creature’s penis invaded her lips. “Mmmmpphh!” she complained, but like her companions the Klingon obediently swallowed, taking every gulp of sustenance the Cavetrapper deposited in her mouth.
Lastly was Melika. The gorgeous teen’s eyes were fixed and dull as the beast’s penis wormed its way into her. It cummed, slime overflowing from the Andorian’s lips. She also swallowed but it seemed to be an automatic response, the Ensign’s will worn away by the days of captivity and repeated impregnations.
At long last the male Cavetrapper was done. The creature’s armored bulk disappeared into the shadows, exiting Starheart’s cargo bay. Its services would not be needed again until after the gestation period was completed.
“Oh god,” Deanna groaned when it was safe. “That was absolutely disgusting.”
Her companions quaked and moaned in complete agreement. The four nude heroines were bound in a neat line, four legs lifted in the air, four pairs of breasts dangling beneath them, and like a conveyor line they had each been filled with eggs and then with semen one by one. Once again they had been defeated and raped, their lush super-sensitive bodies coming to orgasm after orgasm, and this time it had been all at once, and all so close to safety.
+++++
After a moment of deep breathing and a pause to allow the throbbing in her snatch to ease, B’Elanna began to pull at her wrist restraints. The twenty-two year old’s firm globes jiggled as she shifted her shoulders. “Time to get out of here,” the Klingon grunted, trying to find some weakness in her bonds she could exploit. Deanna and T’Pol mimicked her struggles and soon three pairs of breasts were swaying and wiggling beneath their bodies as they fought their bindings.
T’Pol craned her neck, trying to look up at the webbing that secured her lifted ankle to the ceiling. “We should have better luck with our legs.” Taking a deep breath the nude Vulcan lifted her free foot from the deck and let her body swing downwards, so that she was hanging upside down with her udders pointing towards her face. She tensed her body, fighting gravity and her swollen pregnant belly, and hooked her free leg around her bound ankle. Putting all of her body’s weight upon her bindings T’Pol wriggled her naked figure, bucking and thrashing, trying to stress the webbing as much as possible.
Troi and B’Elanna both flipped over to hang upside-down by their ankles and copied the Vulcan’s struggles. The three nude Starfleet officers thrashed and writhed, creating a mouthwatering sexy show of gyrating hips and bottoms, bouncing tits and flying hair. Only Melika remained unmoving, the holographic representation of the Andorian teenager still stunned by the days of rape and impregnation she had endured.
The bonds around their ankles were holding despite the extra strain. That didn’t stop the three would-be escapees. “Keep going!” B’Elanna said, “It’s our only hope!”
For the better part of an hour B’Elanna Torres, T’Pol and Deanna Troi bucked and writhed, hanging upside down from their bindings, trying to break the Cavetrapper’s webbing. Their gorgeous naked figures thrashed, dark hair flying around their faces, bare breasts leaping and bouncing and their round asses swinging from side to side. They fought their bonds until they were soaked in perspiration, droplets running down their bare skin and flicking from their nipples as their tits vigorously jumped with their struggles.
Their efforts ceased as each women felt the mass of alien life in their wombs shift. “Oh gawd,” moaned Deanna, her perspiration-slick breasts heaving from her efforts to escape, “That had better not be what I think it is!”
T’Pol’s long legs flexed as the short-haired brunette flipped herself back into her original position, udders dangling and one foot touching the deck. “I feel it moving!” she groaned, her Vulcan self-control in tatters after her captivity and impregnation. “The gestation is complete!” Torres and Troi also heaved themselves back to onto one foot, their heads bowing. It was not a comfortable position but it was the most stable for what was about to happen.
Three voices rose in wailing symphony as the Cavetrapper’s larvae began to birth. Even the dazed Melika shifted, the slim teen arching her back and presenting her breasts as her vaginal passage swelled with the probing mass of the creature inside her. A squeal emerged from the Ensign’s mouth as the incredible sensation broke through even her near-catatonic state.
Four pairs of pussy lips parted as the larvae pushed their questing heads out of their unwilling mothers. The creatures bore no resemblance to their parents except for a mass of tiny tentacle-like organs around their mouths. They were worm-like, with a segmented body many feet long and mostly still coiled within the four heroines’ wombs. Their pale semi-transparent forms emerged inch by excruciating inch, questing for the world outside, their bodies flexing and twitching without a care of how it felt for their mothers.
And their mothers were definitely feeling it. “Uuuhhhh aahhh!” moaned B’Elanna, her face lifted and her lips open in pleasure. Troi and T’Pol joined her voice with theirs, each already pushed to the brink of orgasm as they were violated from the inside out.
B’Elanna squealed as six inches of her larvae slithered out at once, its ridged body stimulating her clit to orgasm. She cummed, pussy clenching around the creature. This only forced it to wiggle harder, driving the Klingon even deeper into ecstasy.
Inch by inch the creatures emerged. They were cautious, keeping themselves anchored within each woman’s body as they groped blindly through the air. Two of the larvae accidentally bumped into each other and both recoiled in fright, slithering back into their mothers’ wombs, their mothers being T’Pol and Deanna. The Vulcan and the Betazoid shrieked in climax, thrashing and bucking at the sensation. Seconds later they were moaning again as their larvae cautiously resumed their journey to the outside world.
Each creature was questing for one simple thing: sustenance. As it so happened these captives each possessed a rich and ready source of nutrition, two each in fact, swaying gently beneath their nude and shaking bodies. When the male Cavetrapper had fed them he had also dosed them with hormones, causing their breasts to swell in preparation. The treatments they had suffered while captured by the Vorta Papilia were almost unnecessary.
Deanna Troi, B’Elanna Torres and T’Pol were ready to be milked!
After a moment of sightless groping one of the worms found B’Elanna Torres’ left nipple. The many tiny tentacles tipping its head latched firmly onto her rough aureole and it sucked her teat into the creature’s mouth. “Not again!” the twenty-two year old squeaked as the larvae began to suckle on her nipple.
T’Pol and Deanna both produced similar squeals of protest as their ‘children’ found their breasts and began to nurse. In seconds their nips were surrendering spurts of cream, all three officers bowing their heads in defeat as the larvae mindlessly milked their tits.
But one of the larvae was not so lucky. Its mother was Melika, whose slim figure was not flesh and blood but photons and force fields. Her nipples would never produced milk no matter how hard the creature sucked. But that didn’t mean the larvae would not try.
The slim teenager squealed, even in her dazed and defeated state stimulated by the pressure on her sensitive teats. The larvae sucked harder and harder on Melika’s boobs, shifting from nipple to nipple, the muscular length of its body tensing and pulling and tormented both her tits and her vagina as it tried to tease the cream from the blonde’s blue breasts. When nothing came it simply pulled harder, stretching the Ensign’s boobs from globes to cones, making the eighteen year old squeal in yet a higher pitch but still producing no milk.
But her companions proved to have abundant reserves. Nipples surrendered their cream and the three Starfleet officers wailed in pleasure and defeat as they were milked. It took an hour for the larvae to complete their feeding, awkwardly switching from tit to tit as either ran empty. B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol mewled and wiggled and cried out in pleasure as drop by incredible drop their breasts were cruelly drained.
When the larvae were done they lowered themselves to the deck, worming the last few inches of their bodies from their mothers’ still-quivering pussies. Even Melika’s larvae gave up on the Ensign’s holographic breasts and dropped to the floor, looking decidedly less plump and content than the worms that had suckled from Torres, T’Pol and Troi’s delicious tits.
“Come on,” B’Elanna panted, “We’ve got to get free!” Once again the three heroines swung themselves upside down, finding the motion far easier now that their wombs were not weighed by the larvae they had birthed. Torres, T’Pol and Troi wiggled and shimmied as they hung upside down, their lush breasts and round bottoms creating a mouthwatering sight as they struggled.
“I think they’re weakening!” Deanna said in sudden excitement, feeling the webbing around her ankle slacken. The voluptuous counselor dropped a boob-bouncing inch as part of her restraints gave way.
“Keep it up!” T’Pol urged, and the busty Betazoid continued her struggles, thrashing even more wildly, her tits flying on her chest and her wide womanly hips swishing from side to side. The Vulcan the Klingon, encouraged by their friend’s progress, jerked and bucked their own naked bodies all the more vigorously.
Suddenly Deanna’s ankle bindings snapped. With a whoop of surprise she fell to the deck, finding herself flat on her back and her wrists still tied behind her back, but no longer trapped in place. The counselor rolled onto her full chest and wiggled, getting her pale legs beneath her naked body. “Yes!” she said triumphantly, “Now we’re getting somewhere!”
Deanna’s victory was cut short by the return of the female Cavetrapper.
It gave no warning. It leapt forward, its stinger finding Troi’s ample bottom an easy target. “Ow!” the counselor jumped, tits leaping as she jerked away from the sting in her tush. “My god, that wasn’t the… oh, my head, I…” Her words faded into an incoherent mumble as the paralytic drugs pushed the Betazoid’s conscious mind away. She sunk to her knees, her bare breasts rising with a deep breath as she vainly tried to remain awake, and then Deanna Troi, counselor of the USS Enterprise, fell forwards onto her fat juicy tits. She was unconscious.
“No!” cried out B’Elanna. “That’s not fair!” she wiggled, tits shaking as she hung upside down. The Klingon and the Vulcan swung back to their original positions, each positioning one long leg beneath their naked bodies as they watched the insectoid monster with caution.
Chittering with disapproval at Troi’s near-escape, the Cavetrapper went about restoring Deanna’s bindings. In short order the short but curvaceous young woman was once again tied in place, leaning forward with tits dangling and one leg lifted up behind her, forced to perform the splits. She gave no sign of consciousness as the insect mother gathered up its newly-birthed young, gently carrying the larvae away to hiding spots across the cargo bay.
Thanks to the stinger’s paralytic chemicals Troi was unconscious when the female insect mounted her, its broad egg-laying organ worming into the Betazoid’s pussy. Her slumber spared her the humiliating indignity of being aware of her next impregnation. B’Elanna and T’Pol, on the other hand, were not so lucky.
And by the time the male Cavetrapper returned to inseminate the four helpless incubators, Deanna Troi was entirely awake.
+++++
An hour of struggling upside-down had left the trio exhausted and slick with perspiration. After Deanna’s escape their bonds had been strengthened and the Cavetrapper mother took care to ensure that each of its unwilling incubators were securely tied. There was no further hope of freedom, but that did not stop the three Starfleet officers from trying.
With the four women hanging suspended and panting from their struggles, the mother of the brood returned once more. The helpless heroines trembled in their bindings, breasts quivering and long legs shaking.
The insectoid monster prowled about behind them. Its movements made the Starfleet officers acutely aware of their vulnerable pussy folds visible between their thighs, their most tender places so freshly dishonored. Deanna bowed her head to look between her dangling breasts at the Cavetrapper, while B’Elanna and T’Pol twisted and turned their heads to look over their shoulders, their aching boobs trembling with their frightened movements.
But the over-sized bug was less interested in its captive heroines than in its brood. One by one it gathered up the worm-like larvae that had wiggled so excruciatingly from the four nude womens’ wombs. The Cavetrapper chattered approvingly as it carried away young that were plump and content after nursing from Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol’s full breasts.
But when it came to the fourth worm the Cavetrapper’s clicks and hisses took on a disappointed edge. The larvae that had sucked from Melika’s breasts had been unable to squeeze so much as a single drop from the teen’s nipples. The Andorian’s pale puffy buds were stiff from excitement and incredibly sensitive but entirely holographic, and unable to produce milk. As a result this larvae was leaner than its well-fed brothers and sisters. The Cavetrapper turned, the blue-skinned Ensign’s body reflected in its many wetly gleaming eyes.
Its tiny insect brain had detected a trend. The larvae birthed from Melika were not faring as well as those that forced their way from Deanna, T’Pol and B’Elanna’s vaginas. Now that it had those three lush-figured incubators in its grasp, it no longer required the Andorian teenager.
The three brunettes flinched in surprise as the huge insect released a spray of chemicals from its mouth, a teasing spray that covered the bound and naked blonde. “What’s it doing?” Deanna asked, leaning forward to try to look beneath the dangling udders of T’Pol and B’Elanna to where Melika hung, on the far side of the counselor. “I can’t see oh my god what’s it doing!? What’s it doing?!”
Troi’s whispered question had become a squeal of distress as the female Cavetrapper approached the nude and helpless counselor from the front, the slim tentacles of its mouth waving towards the brunette’s generous breasts!
T’Pol and B’Elanna watched helplessly as Deanna’s soft full breasts were gathered up in the slimy mouthparts of the Cavetrapper. The counselor moaned, shutting her eyes and arching her back as both of her sensitive boobs were massaged and manipulated by the many tentacle-like organs that made up the monster’s mandibles. The Cavetrapper pulled back, revealing what it had done to Troi’s tits.
The Cavetrapper’s mouth housed its resin-secreting organs, the source of its webbing. The monster had adhered two strands of webbing to Deanna Troi’s nipples, connecting her big brown teats to the beast’s mouth. Then it retreated from the bound young woman, the strands going taut and yanking on Deanna’s boobs!
“Uuuhhh!” the Betazoid yelped, her dark eyes wide as her breasts were tugged and stretched, “What’s it doing to my boobs aaahh!” The counselor hopped forward on her one free leg, trying to ease the tension on her tits.
The Cavetrapper had exuded a long line of webbing which it now adhered to the floor. Deanna’s tits were now connected to the deck by two long slim strands of resin. By leaning forwards heavily the counselor was able to keep the strain on her boobs to a minimum. “My gawd, this is so humiliating!” the one-time counselor of the USS Enterprise complained, bound and naked with one leg in the air and her tits yanked forward.
T’Pol was next. The haughtily beautiful Vulcan gasped as her breasts were encompassed by the Cavetrapper’s sticky fondling mouthparts, then rolled her eyes as her nipples were snared and tugged by webbing. B’Elanna followed, the twenty-two year old brunette wiggling and gyrating in protest as her teats were caught by sticky fibers. In a matter of moments the Vulcan and the Klingon were bound in the same humiliating manner as Deanna Troi: their breasts were pulled forwards by their nips, six threads of webbing connecting their boobs to the deck.
By hopping a few inches forwards on her free foot, B’Elanna was able to ease the strain on her stretching tits. “This isn’t so bad,” she told herself, her dark hair falling around her face, “This isn’t so bad, this isn’t so uaaahh! UUAAHHHH!”
The agile Cavetrapper had maneuvered itself onto the ceiling and now caught B’Elanna’s bound wrists in its mouthparts. Cruelly it pulled upwards, making the brunette gasp as this motion yanked on her bound nipples, her breasts forced to stretch yet again! Torres’ dark eyes widened as she felt fresh webbing being wrapped around her wrists. Another line was exuded from the Cavetrapper’s mouth, this one attaching her wrist bindings to the ceiling, pulling her arms up and forcing the young woman to arch her back.
This cruelly left B’Elanna Torres’ tits stretched in an evil tug-of-war. On one side her wrists were yanked back towards the ceiling, while on the other her nipples were being pulled towards the deck!
“Oh gawd,” the Klingon moaned, the stress on her breasts making two droplets of white milk bead on her nipples.
The Cavetrapper was already moving
on to T’Pol. “The creature must be intending to Uhhhh!” The science officer’s words became a
gasp as her wrists were pulled up behind her, the motion yanking on her bound
nipples. A moment later Deanna Troi was also arching
her back, the
“What’s this thing doing?” B’Elanna gasped, her head bowing and her dark eyes locked on her tortured nipples.
Before any of them could formulate a reply Deanna Troi let out a throaty moan of unwanted pleasure. “Uhhh aaaahhhh aahhhh,” the counselor groaned, wiggling helplessly as the Cavetrapper mounted her from behind, thrusting its egg-laying organ deep into the Betazoid’s tight snatch. With each pumping motion the twenty-nine year old’s voluptuous body bucked, and with each movement the tension on her webbing-snared teats increased.
Her nips were cruelly stretched and two droplets of milk were squeezed from Deanna’s tits! They were caught by the webbing, two white drops that traveled down the slim lines towards the floor. Troi gasped and moaned, her naked body jerking backwards and forwards with very pumping motion into her snatch, and each movement milked another set of droplets from her boobs.
B’Elanna’s eyes widened as she saw something on the floor she had not noticed before in the poor lighting. The six webbing threads that bound the three heroines’ breasts all met the deck in a clump. Next to that clump was the slim malnourished larvae that had failed to feed from Melika’s holographic breasts. As Deanna’s milk traveled down the threads it accumulated in a small shallow pool beside the worm. It moved, shifting its mouthpart into Troi’s cream, and began to drink.
“This is sick!” B’Elanna wailed, “It’s milking us on purpose!”
“The creature possesses a remarkable degree of ingenuity,” T’Pol admitted, although the statement did not change the fact that the science officer was naked and helpless with her wrists and breasts tightly bound.
Nor did it slow the Cavetrapper’s thrusts into Deanna Troi’s vagina. “Oh gawd aaahhhh AAAIIIEEEE!!!” The brunette squealed in orgasm as the insect delivered the swollen mass of an egg into the young woman’s womb. She arched her back, her body tensing, milk squeezed from her teats with every movement. Then the Betazoid slumped down, panting and gasping, the rise and fall of her heavy chest putting a rhythmic pressure on her nipples that ensured a steady flow of cream. The droplets traveled down the two webbing lines to the growing puddle in which the larval Cavetrapper gorged.
The Cavetrapper moved down the
line, next mounting T’Pol’s long-limbed, heavy-chested frame. The
Once the predator’s egg had been delivered to T’Pol’s womb, the Vulcan reduced to open-mouthed moans as she trembled in the aftermath of orgasm, the time came for B’Elanna Torres to receive her dosage.
“Oh god, oh gaaawd, oh my aaaAAAAAHHHH!!!” The athletic twenty-two year old stiffened in her restraints, unwillingly yanking her bound nipples tightly as the broad mass of the Cavetrapper’s organ wormed its way into the tightness of her vagina. Her sensitive pussy folds stretching wide, her one free leg trembling beneath her, her nipples releasing drop after drop of milk as they were pulled by the taut webbing cords, B’Elanna Torres hit orgasm before the beast mounting her even began to thrust.
The first time B’Elanna Torres had
found her naked body trapped in the webbing of a Cavetrapper,
her ordeal had been relatively brief. Torfik had arrived
to retrieve his Klingon prey, ensuring his ‘pets’
were only able to impregnate and milk her once. But now there would be no
rescue for Voyager’s gorgeous chief
engineer, or for the
“Uhh! Uhh! Uhhh!!” gasped B’Elanna as the Cavetrapper thrust into her snatch, slowly pistoning another egg up the tightness of her kitty. Her athletic body bucked with each thrust, causing Torres to unwillingly yank on the threads binding her nipples. Droplets of cream were teased from her tits, traveling down the webbing to join the milk that had already been squeezed from Deanna and T’Pol’s udders.
The creature continued to pump. Torres’ moans grew longer and deeper, the twenty-two year old thrashing her head left and right, her dark hair flicking around her beautiful features. With each movement her melons were tugged in new and distressing ways, her nipples surrendering more milk. Her athletic body flexed, her back arching and her nethers pushing back and upwards against the thrusting organ of the Cavetrapper. Another orgasm tore through B’Elanna, tears of ecstasy running down her cheeks as Voyager’s chief engineer lost herself in the pleasure of being the insect’s pet incubator.
Then a third orgasm blasted Torres’ consciousness as the monster thrust in deeper yet, driving its egg deep into the Klingon’s womb. Low moans became rapid high-pitched yelps as B’Elanna jerked and wiggled, her eyes shut tight as her boobs were tugged with each pumping motion. With one last thrust the Cavetrapper finished its work, the organ buried in Torres’ pussy wiggling and twisting and making the young women squeal even higher in orgasmic pleasure. Then it drew its broad meat from her nethers with a popping sound.
Deanna Troi, T’Pol and B’Elanna Torres had each been impregnated once more, and the extra webbing clinging to their teats ensured that every movement would milk their nips. The three heroines’ cream was gathering in a shallow pool where the six tit-threads reached the floor, where the under-fed larvae now fed with delight.
Just then Melika fell limply from her bindings.
The teenager’s fantastic blue-skinned body slumped to the deck, long legs spread wide and her bare breasts rising and falling with her breaths. The Andorian’s large eyes were blank, staring at the ceiling from whatever stunned state the prolonged captivity and repeated impregnations had left her.
The three brunettes could see that the remains of Melika’s restraints were dissolving away. “The chemical spray,” T’Pol whispered even as she tried to hold herself still to minimize the tugging on her full melons, “The creature has deliberately undone Melika’s bonds.”
“But why?” queried Deanna in a tiny voice, the counselor also trying to keep her breasts still to prevent her teats from being pulled and milked any more than necessary.
B’Elanna’s beautiful dark eyes widened as she realized what the Cavetrapper was doing. Her gaze turned to the larvae that had been squeezed from the blue-skinned Ensign tight teen pussy.
“Melika’s breasts are holographic,” Torres said, “They couldn’t feed off her. That’s why it’s milking us. They want incubators they can milk, and Melika doesn’t cut it.”
“But we do,” trembled T’Pol as the Vulcan’s self-control failed her. “It no longer requires her services as it has us.”
With horrified eyes the three now-pregnant officers watched as the slim teenaged hologram was dragged away by her ankle. The Ensign’s long legs splayed apart and her tits pressed against the cold metal floor, the eighteen year old’s pale nipples producing a squeaking sound as they slid along the smooth deck plating. Her still-stunned figure offered no resistance.
“It’s not going to eat her, is it?” Deanna whispered with horror, her boobs trembling beneath her. “It won’t be able to, she’s just a hologram.”
“It may simply be removing a sub-standard victim,” T’Pol breathed in reply.
B’Elanna twisted to look over her shoulder at the departing monster, unwittingly tugging on her bound nipples and squeezing more of her milk from her tits. “It’s a predator,” she said after her eyes had rolled back down. “It might use her as bait to lure in other victims.”
Torres had been correct. The Cavetrapper dragged the unresponsive Melika to the cargo bay entrance and pushed her down the exit ramp, a line of webbing stretching back from the blonde teenager’s ankle. With her wrists still behind her back the eighteen year old rolled down the ramp, tits thumping on the metal every time her slim figure went over. She reached the forest floor and came to a halt, her pale nipples pointing towards the open sky above the landing area. Raindrops struck her motionless body, the jungle downpour continuing.
The webbing around her ankle connected to the Cavetrapper’s nest. If the Andorian’s body was moved by a scavenger, it would tug on the nest’s weave and alert the predator within to new prey it could ambush. The insect moved back into the cargo bay, returning to tend to its three prime victims.
But the moment Melika left Starheart, moving beyond the reach of the ship’s holographic emitters, her imaging matrix began to break apart. The Andorian teenager was simply a hologram and without the ship’s emitters neither her physical presence nor the illusion of her form could be maintained. The Ensign’s slim spectacular body shimmered, her blue skin growing pale and then transparent as the hologram fell to pieces.
B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol all performed a tit-stretching jump in their restraints as Starheart’s speaker system made an announcement in Melika’s voice. “Holographic matrix destabilized. Re-initializing program Melika-zero-three on baseline settings.”
In a whoosh of force fields and holograms Melika was suddenly standing in the cargo bay, buck naked and gasping, clutching at her bare breasts and trim blonde pussy. “What the!?!” she exclaimed, then gaped in shock at the sight of her shipmates.
Deanna Troi, B’Elanna Torres and T’Pol were each nude with wrists bound behind their backs and one ankle webbed to the ceiling, forcing each brunette to perform an uncomfortable set of splits while their tits dangled beneath them like ripe fruit. Worse still each of the officers’ waistlines were now swollen and pregnant! As a final humiliation, six webbing threads were bound around each heroines’ nipples, stretching their tits and squeezing droplets of milk from their udders!
Melika’s blue eyes widened with the memory of her capture by the Cavetrappers. She remembered the endless impregnations and birthings, followed by humiliating and always unsuccessful milkings as the larvae tried in vain to tease cream from her teats. But now she was reactivated and revived, her reboot awakening her from her nearly catatonic state.
She looked towards her companions. “You’re got to give the computer the code…” The Ensign was cut off by an enormous clatter of equipment as an armored Cavetrapper shoved aside crates and gear and pounced on to the slim Andorian. The male monster had returned in search of waiting incubators and instead found a free specimen.
Melika fell beneath its armored weight, long bare legs kicking as she shrieked in fright. The swarm of tentacles that was the creature’s mouth dove down over the teenager’s left breast, a hidden stinger spiking into her soft titflesh. But the drugs would have no effect on the Ensign’s holographic flesh.
“The reboot codes!” she yelled, “The computer won’t recognize my voice! I was never programmed into the recognition system! The code is override bravo alpha romeoooooo!!” Melika’s words turned into a squeal of unwanted ecstasy as the Cavetrapper switched tactics, no longer attempting to penetrate her with its stinger and instead penetrating her with something far more intimate.
The teenager’s legs were forced to spread wide as the insect’s fleshy penis wormed and wiggled its way into the Ensign’s tight pussy. The creature began a vigorous rhythm of pumping, causing Melika to arch her back and squeal, nipples flying on the tips of her tits and feet kicking pathetically in the air.
The female Cavetrapper returned as well, chittering in confusion at the sight of the Ensign no longer bound by her restraints. It moved back to T’Pol, Torres and Troi, circling their gorgeous naked figures as it checked their bindings.
“Melika!” screamed B’Elanna, arching her back to look towards the blue-skinned beauty as she was mounted. “What are the codes?”
The Ensign wriggled sexily as she was mounted, her slim arms wrapping around her middle and pushing her tits up together. “Oh my gawd!” she wailed.
“What are the codes?!” cried out T’Pol and Deanna simultaneously, their breasts stretched by their bindings.
“Override bravo alpha,” the teenager gasped, blue eyes wide with ecstasy, “Romeo echo eight,” and again she had to stop for breath, her slim body pulsing with each thrust and her breasts almost vibrating from the rapid fucking, “zero zero eight fiiiiiiiiive!!!” The hyper-sensitive Andorian reached orgasm, her narrow pussy clenching around the Cavetrapper’s organ, milking it. The beast thrust in deeper as it reached its own peak, ejaculating within the helpless Andorian and filling her womb with fluid. Its yanked its cock from her tightness and ejaculated again, this time jetting hot sticky semen over Melika’s thighs, belly, breasts and face. The beautiful teen howled in disgust, her slim body trembling as she was spattered with cum.
“Computer,” B’Elanna said quickly, twisting in her bonds without caring that her nipples were tugged and her cream squeezed from her udders, “Initiate reboot, authorization code override bravo alpha romeo echo eight zero zero eight five!”
“Rebooting. Please do not switch off your system.”
The cargo bay began to hum as Starheart’s primary systems were roused. The primary lights switched on, blindingly bright to the heroines after spending hours in the dim emergency lighting. The four nude beauties squinted and turned their faces away while the two Cavetrappers chattered in alarm, retreating towards the dimmer corners of the cargo bay.
One instant Melika was lying nude on the deck, spattered with hot stickyness. The next she disappeared, reappearing standing upright wearing her blue and white Starheart uniform. Her long blonde hair was now tied back neatly and her hands were on her curving hips. Her youthful face was firm and deeply annoyed, her blue eyes narrow.
The Cavetrappers hissed and pounced at the teenager. But where before Melika had been locked to her physical parameters, now she had full control. She simply disengaged her physical presence and the giant bugs blurred through her illusionary body without meeting resistance.
The teen Ensign snapped her fingers. Glowing motes of light appeared around Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol’s restraints as the webbing was beamed directly off their naked bodies. The three impregnated brunettes dropped to their knees, moaning with relief and wrapping their arms around their bodies, pushing their bare breasts upwards.
Then the blue-skinned blonde turned back to the two Cavetrappers, the pair of monsters that had captured her, repeatedly fucked her, force-fed her and then made her carry their young to term. Melika snapped her fingers again and the two creatures were captured by transporter beams and beamed out of the cargo bay. The teenager’s blue eyes moved left and right as she accessed Starheart’s internal sensors, locating and beaming out the monsters’ larval young as well.
Troi, Torres and T’Pol rose from their knees, each woman still cradling a swollen pregnant belly but each infinitely relieved to be free of the Cavetrapper’s snare. “The good old beam-them-back-to-the-jungle trick?” B’Elanna said, rising on shaky legs.
Melika pulled a face. “I’m afraid you’re off. By about a thousand meters.”
The sound of a Cavetrapper hitting
the ground after a one kilometer fall made the three officers turn. The female
insect was visible through the open cargo bay door, the creature now a broken
mess of tissue after its high-speed impact with the soil. A second later the
male slammed into the dirt, its armor providing no relevant protection as it
splattered on contact.
Deanna turned her beautiful dark eyes to look down her naked body, down between her ample milky breasts to her pregnant waistline. “Any chance of helping us out?”
Melika considered the three heroine’s swollen stomachs and nodded. “Hold still.” She snapped her fingers yet again.
None of them could see the light of micro-transporter effects gathering up each egg and extracting them from their wombs. But B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol all felt the weight lift from their bodies. Their Orion-conditioned figures quickly restored to their usual narrow waistlines as the Cavetrapper seeds were neatly removed.
“I must admit that is a relief,” T’Pol said, running her hands from her swollen melons, down her now-flat stomach to her bald pussy. Beside her B’Elanna performed side-stretches while Deanna interlaced her fingers behind her and stretched her back, thrusting her jugs forward. “These creatures had rapid metabolisms and were extremely dangerous. I hope you disposed of the eggs in an appropriate way.”
Melika sent a mental order for the cargo bay doors to close. But before the metal barriers could slide shut entirely the four women heard three sharp cracking sounds as the eggs hit the ground at very high speed. “Appropriate and expeditious,” the teenager said, flashing her perfect white teeth in a bright smile.
B’Elanna Torres returned the smile, looking at the Ensign with relief in her lovely dark eyes. “Good to have you back in action, Melika,” the Maquis acknowledged. “Now, I don’t know about you girls but I feel like putting on a uniform. Or two,” confessed Voyager’s firm-bodied chief engineer as wrapped her arms around her athletic naked body.
+++++
The Klingon Jungle Fiend growled, eyeing B’Elanna Torres’ catsuit-clad breasts. Her expression showing nothing but determination, the Klingon stared right back as she twisted a dial on the small device at her belt.
The air itself seemed to squeal in pain. The enormous animal cringed, its horned head turning left and right as it whimpered in discomfort. Grimacing as she endured the high-pitched tone, Torres increased the amplitude and the beast howled in response, recoiling from the ultrasonic frequencies emitted by the repeller B’Elanna wore. The Fiend maneuvered its powerful body about and raced off into the thick jungle, losing all interest in the twenty-two year old’s body.
B’Elanna deactivated the emitter with a twist. “That is a pain in the ass to use,” she said, touching her ringing ears. Morning sunlight broke through the jungle canopy, the leaves still damp from the night’s rain. In daylight the trio had ventured back into Torfik’s hunting grounds, but this time the three heroines were clothed and far better equipped for the dangers they would face.
“Melika’s analysis was accurate,” noted T’Pol. “The ultrasonic frequencies she detected in the ‘safe zone’ must utilize the same technology Torfik used to protect himself from their attention.”
Deanna breathed a sigh of relief, her soft melons shifting her tight elastic top. “He must have genetically engineered it as a weakness into these creatures in order to protect himself from them. I wish we could have better tuned them so they didn’t deafen us as well.”
“If you thought it was bad for us, just imagine how it felt for that Jungle Fiend,” B’Elanna commented, still touching her tender ears but overall satisfied at how effectively the beast had been repelled. “Well, we have a weapon that will drive off everything in this jungle. Lucky us.”
“But was this ‘Brahms’ that Torfik spoke of also lucky?” T’Pol twisted at the waist as she looked around, her tight outfit flexing around her slim figure, flaunting her narrow waist, firm ass and lovely boobs. “The cave we found was definitely inhabited recently, but no one was there.”
“I wonder if he meant Leah Brahms,” Deanna said, her catsut-clad legs moving carefully as she stepped across the moist and damp jungle floor. “She’s an engine designer in Starfleet. Smart, really smart. A real trophy for a man like Torfik.”
“We’re not going to leave anyone on that Romulan’s wall,” B’Elanna promised with determination. She touched one hand to a flare gun at her hip. They had not been able to find a way to cut through the interference on Tofik’s jungle world, and so could not directly communicate with Starheart nor use the ship’s transporters. Instead each of the three heroines carried an archaic flare gun, its ancient gunpowder technologies still perfectly functional where phasers could not operate. High overheard, Melika would spot their signal and close in to retrieve them once they located the captives.
All three women lifted their faces as they heard a cry off in the distance. “A woman,” T’Pol said. A second shriek sounded out, and this time the tones of humiliated pleasure were easy to hear. “Several women!”
“Hurry!” B’Elanna led the way as the three catsuit-clad heroines ran towards the voices they could hear ringing through the jungle, tits jumping in their tight tops and elastic cupping their wiggling bottoms.
They found what they were looking for in the middle of a patch of soft muddy soil. It was clearly home to a nest of Denebian Slime Devils, as the women trapped in the mud had discovered to their humiliation.
There were three of them. A dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty had been yanked down on all fours by the groping tendrils of the Slime Devils, her arms and legs snared, her breasts caught in cruel loops and her nether lips invaded. She moaned and bucked with her ass in the air, giving the creatures what they wanted: struggles that would spread their spores through the mud.
Only a few meters away stood a youthful redhead, trapped thigh-deep in the mud. Tendrils rose from the slime to invade her pussy and ass. The girl clutched her hands to her bare breasts and groaned in unwanted pleasure, rocking back and forth as she was slowly violated. Her dark eyes rolled back as she cummed against her will, the young woman unwillingly sinking a few inches lower into the muck, letting the tentacles of the Denebian Slime Devils that much deeper into her vagina.
And further out from the edge, hanging from a tree branch that reached out over the muddy soil, was Leah Brahms. Like her companions the brilliant engine designer was completely naked, and like them she had discovered the disgustingly unpleasant touch of the Slime Devils. Her legs were trapped in the slime with tendrils reaching up to probe her delicious pussy and firm round buttocks. Her boobs trembled as she hung onto the branch above her, her brown hair falling around her face as she stared in distress at the sight of her own invaded snatch. She dared not let go and sink deeper among the invasive tentacles.
“Hold on!” B’Elanna said, and Brahms lifted her face in surprise. Her expression showed a surge of hope as she saw the three women on the edge of the muddy patch. “This is going to be really loud,” warned the twenty-two year old Klingon, reaching for her sonic emitter.
The device produced a high-pitched tone that made Torres, Troi and T’Pol wince and cover their ears. Brahms and her brunette and redheaded companions gasped at the sound, shutting their eyes as the synthetic shriek briefly drew their attention away from the violation of their vulnerable naked bodies.
The effect on the Denebian Slime Devils was immediate. The bulbous fluid-filled pods that tipped each of their slimy tendrils shrank, loosening their knots. The little tentacles disappeared into the mud, repelled by the ultrasound shriek. Brahms and her companions groaned in relief as they were suddenly freed from the groping and thrusting tentacles that had held them trapped.
“Climb out!” shouted B’Elanna over the on-going squeal of the sonic repeller. “I can’t switch it off until you’re clear of them!”
The young women began to climb slowly out of the bog, each of them muddy from the mid-thigh down. As they approached the edge B’Elanna and her friends offered their hands, hauling the captives out of the last few feet of mud. Finally the Klingon could switch off the ear-grating sonic repeller.
“Thank you,” gasped the woman in the lead, her statuesquely attractive features accented by a small mole on her lip. “Who are you?”
“B’Elanna Torres,” the twenty-two year old answered, “Are you Leah Brahms?”
“Yes.” The blue-eyed beauty wrapped her arms around her nakedness, her boobs pushed upwards into a lovely cleavage while her other hand pressed over her slit. She nodded her head towards the olive-skinned brunette, then to the young redheaded standing naked beside her. “That’s Lieutenant Bronwyn Gail Robinson and over there is Ensign Oliana Mirren. This entire world is the hunting ground of a Romulan named Torfik.”
“Thanks for the warning, but we know,” Torres said.
“Torfik is dead,” added T’Pol. “He was killed by one of his Cavetrappers.”
BG Robinson let out a wry laugh, her boobs jiggling as her dark eyes rolled. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
“How did you three end up here?” Deanna asked, looking from the young Ensign to the mouthwatering Lieutenant to the slim, pale Brahms.
“Doctor Brahms was going to head up an in-field retrofit of a number of Galaxy and Nebula class cruisers,” Lieutenant Robinson said, her arms lifted to her boobs and her cleavage pushing together. “We were flying her to Starbase 3 when we were blitzed by that Romulan.”
“He lured us with a distress signal,” Mirren added, “With a bomb rigged up in wrecked shuttle. Our runabout was crippled. The Lieutenant did all she could but Torfik had planned everything. Except to wear Cavetrapper proof armor, I guess,” the redhead added with more than a little satisfaction at the idea of the Romulan being dead. She, Robinson and Brahms had all felt Torfik’s hands on their naked bodies and didn’t flinch from the idea of the Romulan receiving his due payback.
“Why were you wandering out here?” queried T’Pol. “The ultrasonic repellers we detected do not reach out this far.”
“We needed food,” Brahms admitted simply, her lovely boobs lifting inside the embrace of her arms as she sighed. She pulled an apologetic face, the beauty mark above her mouth shifting with her lips. “We’ve been foraging out further and further. Too far, obviously.”
“A girl’s gotta eat,” added Robinson as the Lieutenant wiped the muck of the lovely orbs of her breasts. The mud had almost served like a bikini, covering her brunette’s plump assets. Now those supple melons were completely uncovered again, and mouthwateringly so.
“Let’s get to clear terrain,” B’Elanna ordered, “Then we can fire a flare and signal Starheart to come pick us up.” She looked towards Brahms, Robinson and Mirren and smiled. “You’re going home.”
A second later all six women were ensnared by the eager tendrils of a Romulan Ladysnare!
The vines dropped from the canopy above them and lashed quickly around their targets. “Oh Surak no!” cried T’Pol before a bloom was pressed over her mouth and nose, filling the Vulcan’s lungs with tranquilizing fumes. B’Elanna struggled and shrieked like a banshee until she too was dulled by a flower covering her lower face and putting out her fire. Deanna wiggled and writhed, her boobs shaking inside her tight blue and white top but she was already deep in its hold. A third blossom planted itself over her mouth and nose, pumping a cloying flow of muscle-relaxing fragrances directly into the Betazoid’s lungs.
The women they were here to ‘rescue’ were not spared either. The Ensign Oliana Mirren screamed as she was pulled into the air, her wrists bound above her head and her bare boobs bobbing. BG Robinson kicked her long legs, her tits dancing on her chest as she tried in vain to wriggle free. Leah Brahms gasped in discomfort as vines wrapped tightly around her body, pinning her arms to her sides and making her peaches push forward aggressively, tendrils running below and above her breasts. All three women’s cries were muffled as another trio of blooms fell over their mouths, forcing them to breathe a heady mix of tranquilizers, hormones and aphrodisiacs.
Within seconds their screams had faded to moans and their struggles weakened to pathetic wiggles. The bare breasts of Leah Brahms, BG Robinson and Oliana Mirren jiggled beside the elastic-covered tits of T’Pol, Troi and Torres. The Ladysnare flexed its tendrils around its captives, hoisting the six women up into the jungle canopy. Their muscles were lax thanks to the drugging but each woman was humiliatingly conscious and aware of their ordeal. They exchanged despairing looks as the Ladysnare lined them up, six delicious bodies suspended by the tendrils around their arms.
B’Elanna turned her head to look helplessly down at her belt. She, T’Pol and Deanna were all carrying sonic repellers that could drive the Ladysnare away, as well as flareguns that could summon help from Melika. But with their arms secured above their heads they were unable to reach them!
But Torres wasn’t going to give up. Even as more tendrils worked down over their bodies, exploring the tight fabric that covered the Klingon, the Betazoid and the Vulcan’s bodies, the twenty-two year old Lieutenant scraped her feet together. With a bit of work she knocked one of her boots off and, her bare toes groping in the air, she reached her foot for the sonic repeller clipped to T’Pol’s belt. “If I can just switch it on,” the Klingon thought, fighting against the tranquilizers that made her movements clumsy, “We can still get out of here!”
Vines slid into the three brunette’s tops, groping around their breasts. Torres cringed but ignored the sensation of her melons being wrapped by the tough vines, putting all her concentration and effort into reaching T’Pol’s sonic emitter. Her toes stabbed at the Vulcan’s hip, nearly touching it. The Klingon’s athletic legs jerked as she felt vines creeping down inside the fabric of her pants, the Ladysnare exploring every limb of her outfit. She swung slightly from her bonds, her movements awkward from the plant’s drugs but her toes come so close to the controls of T’Pol’s emitter.
Then the tendrils that had invaded Torres, Troi and T’Pol’s clothing flexed and pulled. Their elastic garments stretched at the neck, across the chest and down either leg. There was a ripping sound as the fabric gave way. Their uniforms split open, torn away by the vines pulling on them, leaving B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol naked in the grip of the Romulan Ladysnare.
It also severed their belts. “No,” moaned Torres inside her tranquilizing bloom, seeing their flareguns and sonic emitters fall from their hips to the forest floor far below. There would be no escape.
Long bare legs kicked pathetically as more tendrils wrapped around their torsos. Vines traveled above and beneath their breasts, making the six heroines’ udders poke outwards prominently. Despite having come here to save them, B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol were just as helpless as Brahms, Robinson and Mirren. The six women exchanged looks of terror as they dangled, completely nude, from the vines.
The Ladysnare was a mesh of plantlife in the canopy above. Another pair of blooms descended towards its captives, and these flowers had a more insidious purpose. The two sucker-blossoms seemed to examine the helpless, bare-chested women in their grasp. The vines binding them shifted them around, lining the six women up as if for inspection. The blooms traveled down the row, considering T’Pol’s heavy melons, Deanna’s ample titflesh and B’Elanna’s soft orbs, before moving on to Leah’s rapidly rising and falling peaches. BG Robinson’s boobs shook left and right as she was examined, while the twenty-one year old Oliana Mirren’s tits quivered, her nipples trembling as she stared at the blooms approaching her soft and supple treats.
It was a smorgasbord to choose from, too many tits for two blooms to suck at once. The six women had unwittingly provided the Ladysnare with a feast, a wide sampling of firm but supple breasts ready for milking. The captives watched the blooms with wide-eyed trepidation as they wondered which of their tits the plant would choose. The flowers wandered left and right, brushing its petals against their trembling breasts as if tasting them.
Then the Ladysnare’s blooms closed in on the soft round treats of B’Elanna Torres’ breasts. “MMmmuuhhh!” objected the Klingon, her cry muffled by the tranquilizing bloom over her face as her tanned tits were squeezed, sucked and lifted, the flowers’ petals closing until they were only gripping the brown circles of her nipples. “Mmuuuhhh, mmmoooohhhaaahh!” moaned the twenty-two year old as her teats ached with pleasure. The five other women watched with a mixture of horror at the sight of B’Elanna’s boobs distending under the powerful suction, and relief that it was not their breasts being milked.
But it was far too soon for relief. Ten more blossoms descended from the canopy and clamped onto the helpless breasts of the five other females!
“Mmmph!” Deanna complained as her melons were captured by milked flowers, sucking her globes upwards.
“Muuuuhhhh!” objected T’Pol as blossoms tightened around her udders, narrowing their hold on her tits until they were attached only to her big brown nipples.
“Mmmppphhh!” Leah Brahms, BG Robinson and the youthful Oliana Mirren all thrashed, their long bare legs kicking in a sexy struggle as the Ladysnare took hold of the three women’s breasts and began to tug on their teats.
Their eyes flashed to each other in mutual despair. Nude, drugged and bound, B’Elanna, Deanna, T’Pol, Leah, Bronwyn Gail and Oliana wiggled and bucked helplessly as the Ladysnare began to milk them.
The six heroines moaned within their flower-masks as the plant sucked on their nipples. The blooms on their tits shifted, sometimes pushing against their boobs, sometimes pulling them away from their bodies, sometimes dragging them down and sometimes lifting them upwards. The cruel massage stimulated their mammaries, and the chemicals in the plant’s tranquilizing blooms urged their bodies to produce milk.
It was T’Pol’s teats that first yielded, the normally elegant and reserve Vulcan moaning and arching her back as milk squirted from her nipples. Deanna followed, the counselor’s ample titflesh proving to be generous reservoirs of cream. B’Elanna’s proud breasts gave in next, milk jetting from her brown nips to be greedily sucked up by the blosoms on her tits. The treatment the three heroines had received from the Vorta Papilia had made their lush breasts ample reservoirs of milk.
The other three women had to be sucked a little harder. “Aahhhh!!” groaned Leah Brahms as her nipples surrendered their cream. Robinson and Mirren jerked in their bonds as their tits simultaneously squirted.
Hanging naked and helpless in the Ladysnare’s tendrils, the six beauties moaned and mewled, their voices building in volume and pitch as squirt after squirt of cream was teased out of their breasts. Thrills of pleasure traveled up and down their sexy figures, making them wiggle and gyrate as their tits were slowly and humiliatingly drained before their eyes. The air they breathed was laced with aphrodisiacs and they could not help but slowly ascend into mind-addling ecstasy.
Yet this was only part of the ordeal the Ladysnare had in store for them. More tendrils lowered from the canopy, wrapping around each woman’s ankles. Then it pulled, spreading each woman’s thighs and positioning them for the next stage of their embarrassing torment.
Yet more of the Ladysnare’s vines descended, but these were of a different sort. These tendrils were tipped with long narrow buds, like a rose about to bloom but larger, longer and narrower. Their target was the small orifice between each woman’s buttocks.
“Mmmpphh!” Torres and Troi complained, the two brunettes almost going crosseyed in shock and disbelief as they felt pods press against their asses! While T’Pol had each been captured by the Ladysnare before this was a new ordeal for the Klingon and the Betazoid, and they objected with sexy wriggles and moans as the pods twisted and pushed slowly up into their bottoms. Suspended beside her, T’Pol, Brahms, Robinson and Mirren likewise moaned and jerked as their asses were invaded by the Ladysnare’s seeding pods. At no point did the blossoms milking their tits slow their cruel sucking rhythm, pushing each helpless woman closer and closer to orgasm.
The seeders began a gentle pumping rhythm, sliding slowly deeper into each woman’s bottom before edging out again. The six women’s eyes rolled in unwanted pleasure, all on the edge of orgasm and all humiliated by their collective defeat. That humiliation doubled when all six felt seeds push into their asses. Not only was the Ladysnare milking their tits of every drop of nutrition it could but it was also turning them into its honeybees, forced to carry its seeds to new territory.
B’Elanna’s orgasm was a defeated jerk and squealing sound, the twenty-two year old’s ass clenching and her tits thrusting skyward as she arched her back. Deanna, empathically feeling the Klingon’s ecstasy, cummed next, spasming in joy as she was impregnated against her will yet again. T’Pol was third, her Vulcan reserve failing her as she released a low, deep moan of ecstasy as she felt dozens of small seeds pushing into her ass.
The seeding process took maybe ten minutes. When it was completed, with all six women flushed with shame and discomfort at the ordeal, the Ladysnare withdrew its seeders and released the tendrils holding each woman’s legs. The heroines swung and flopped limply, once again suspended only by their arms, their long legs pressing together tightly after their embarrassing anal penetration.
But the Ladysnare did not release them. The seeding process might only have taken minutes, but the milking process would take hours. Six pairs of breasts were lifted by their sucker-blooms, titflesh stretching into cones as the plant took full advantage of their lush naked bodies.
Brahms, Robinson and Mirren would jerk in orgasm over the next hour as their bodies, lacking the super-sensitivity of Orion conditioning, eventually climaxed under the influence of the powerful pheromones being pumped into their lungs. The finely-tuned bodies of B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol, on the other hand, would have orgasmed nearly a dozen times by then.
+++++
The sun reached its
Torres, Troi, T’Pol and the three women they had come to rescue were slowly lowered from the canopy. The sucker blooms detached from the women’s boobs. Their breasts would recover, as they had before, but for now their once magnificent tits were dramatically reduced, sagging slightly on their chests.
Gently the defeated women were deposited on the forest floor. Before it completely released them the Ladysnare released a particularly heavy dose of tranquilizers and aphrodisiacs into the lungs of each of its victims. From the fiery B’Elanna Torres to the aloof Leah Brahms each woman rolled her eyes in pleasure, her naked body spasming in one more orgasm before they fell unconscious. Captured, drugged, impregnated and milked, they were now knocked out and left naked and defenseless on the forest floor.
This was the moment the Klingon Jungle Fiends had been waiting for!
The creature that had been repelled by B’Elanna’s ultrasonic emitter had merely been one of a pack. Now the six women lay helpless and unaware, sprawled naked on the ground with no idea of what was about to happen to them. The Fiends’ patience was about to pay off, and B’Elanna and her friends were about to pay up.
With surprisingly gentle jaws the six Jungle Fiends gripped each woman by an ankle, carefully dragging their slumbering naked bodies away from the groping tendrils of the Ladysnare. Once they had reached a safe distance the beasts got to work.
Broad rough tongues lapped at bare pussies. Well-conditioned by Torfik to break and mount captives, the Jungle Fiends began with their most sensitive of places. The aphrodisiacs pumped into their bodies by the Ladysnares made their captives particularly receptive. Even unconscious the women responded to the intimate touch, mewling softly in their sleep, wriggling slightly, thighs involuntarily spreading as the hot rough tongues of each animal rubbed over their nether lips and clitorises. The bodies of the dozing females roused, pussies moistening and growing puffy with excitement, breasts rising and falling with quickening breath. Rough tongues moved to breasts, licking across aching teats and tender titflesh, making the women arch their backs and draw in little gasping intakes of breath.
As one the six Jungle Fiends moved up, mounting their helpless targets. Bare thighs were spread, pussies left completely undefended. Six lengths of cockflesh, long and stout and hard as stone, pushed against the tender folds of the unconscious Starfleet women and then pushed in.
The sensation of their pussies being filled with the thick powerful cocks of Klingon Jungle Fiends made each woman awaken with a gasp of shock and unwanted pleasure. As one the Klingon, the Betazoid, the Vulcan and the three humans awoke and looked down the lengths of their naked bodies to where their thighs were parted and their pussy lips spread wide by the girth of massive monstrous cocks. In unison the six women screamed in helpless horror.
When the beasts began to pump their screams became howls of pleasure. Broad hard meat plunged deep into their pussies as the Jungle Fiends vigorously thrust into their unwilling mates. All six women moaned and thrashed, unwanted ecstasy pulsing through their wriggling bodies. The aphrodisiacs the Ladysnare had stunned their bodies with were more than enough to keep their bodies very responsive to the Jungle Fiends’ pistoning cocks. Leah Brahms clutched at her tits as she orgasmed, her pussy clenching the meatstick of the animal thrusting into her. Lieutenant Robinson arched her back, brown nipples trembling on her quaking breasts as she howled in orgasm. Ensign Oliana Mirren grabbed at her long red hair and wailed as she climaxed, her lovely tits bouncing vigorously with the rhythm of their fucking.
Each woman felt the incredible sensation of twelve inches of cockflesh sliding in and out of their pussies, feeling every ridged inch stretching their nethers, the contact driving them wild with unwanted pleasure. Troi squealed loudly as she cummed, her voice joined by T’Pol as the Vulcan let out a pathetic mewling sound. When B’Elanna hit her orgasm it was with a piercing wail, her hands lifted to her face and her jiggling tits pressed together between her elbows.
But the Jungle Fiends were hard to satisfy, and each possessed enormous stamina. On and on they pumped into the six helpless women, driving them into a second round of orgasms, then a third. The heroines helplessly wiggled and screamed and climaxed, playthings of monstrous brutes with brains the size of baseballs, and cocks just as wide.
With horror B’Elanna watched the Jungle Fiend fucking her approach its peak. It let off a roar of pleasure, rearing higher and higher as it thrust into the Klingon’s bucking and wiggling body. Torres looked away from the terrible sight, unwilling to watch the orgasm of the monster fucking her.
Her dark eyes spotted something lying in the leaves only a few feet from where she lay on her back with her legs spread. It was an equipment belt, with its flaregun still attached!
The Jungle Fiend mounting B’Elanna climaxed. With a deep roar of satisfaction its cock fired gallons of spunk into the womb of Voyager’s chief engineer, filling her to overflowing. The pleasure that blasted through Torres in that instant was almost too great to bear but in a single fast movement she folded her legs up and kicked against the Fiend’s body, pushing herself off the monster’s enormous cock as it slacked at its peak. She wiggled and scrambled across the forest floor, heading for the flare.
B’Elanna ripped the signal gun from its holster, pointed it into the air and fired. The flare launched up through the canopy, only igniting when it was above the branches. “Please Melika, see it,” Torres said, trembling as she knelt naked and staring up through the canopy at the distant light of the flare.
Then the Jungle Fiend licked B’Elanna from her inner thigh, up her pussy, over her stomach, across one breast and up to her face. Torres’ Orion-conditioned body quaked in pleasure and she fell backwards with a gasp, shuddering and shaking as the beast lapped and sucked at her bare breasts.
All around her the other Fiends were lifting their heads and roaring. The sight of the flare bursting into life had not been enough to distract them from their conquests. The predators fucking Mirren, Robinson, Brahms, Troi and T’Pol each reared up, thrusting their hips deeper and harder against those of their unwilling mates, and peaked. Each woman wailed in defeat as Jungle Fiend spunk filled their wombs, then cried out in disgust as the beasts pulled their cocks free and ejaculated across each woman’s thighs and pussy.
“Dammit, Melika,” gasped B’Elanna as the Fiend worked at her sensitive tits with its hot rough tongue, “See the flare already!” Then the beast’s powerful mouth took hold of her right breast and began to suck, and Torres lost any chance of being able to speak.
“Uh uuuuhhh!” The twenty-two year old moaned as the sheer suction the Fiend was exerting on her tit lifting her back from the forest floor. She arched her spine in unbelieving ecstasy, only her head and heels touching the ground, her hands spasming and thumping against the dirt as her boobs were powerfully sucked.
Seconds later the other women joined B’Elanna in her moaning as each Fiend moved on to the next stage of their courtship. The six Starfleet women, each completely naked and freshly mounted by a brute of a Klingon animal, wailed in protest and pleasure as their boobs were drawn up into the mouths of their assailants, their nipples throbbing with pleasure. The Ladysnare had tormented each heroine’s tits to the edge of ecstasy. Now they received the finishing touch.
“Nooo oooohhh aaaahhhh!” T’Pol’s objection became a throaty moan of pleasure as her tits, which had been recovering their magnificent shape after her recent milking, were sucked on one at a time. The NX-01’s science officer grabbed at the Fiend’s horns as she was pulled upright by her tits, her nipples squirting yet more of her cream into the monster’s mouth.
“Not again, not again, aaaeeeeeiiii!!” The curvy counselor of the Enterprise-D squealed as her round soft melons were once again sucked on. Her udders stretched into cones, the Jungle Fiend cruelly placing one paw on her torso to keep her down as it sucked on her tits. Deanna Troi could do nothing but hit her hands and feet helplessly against the forest floor as she cummed.
And just feet from where she lay three more women were lifting their voices in shrieks of pleasure. “Aaahhhaaahhhhh ah-ah-ah!” Leah Brahms, BG Robinson and Oliana Mirren screamed as their tits were sucked on. The Fiends tending to them began to draw their unwilling mates away from the others, each intending to isolate their possession. Unfortunately they were pulling on the three womens’ bare breasts, sucking hard on their soft titflesh and dragging the women across the ground in short spurts!
The redheaded Mirren let off short shrieks of pleasure as she was pulled by her cute tits, the twenty-one year old’s slim legs kicking. Leah Brahms grabbed at her aching breasts and wailed, her woman bottom sliding on the forest floor. Lieutenant Bronwyn G Robinson bit her lip to silence her scream but still let out a high-pitched squeal, her tanned melons stretching and her hands grabbing at the Fiend’s horns as she was pulled along by her boobs.
B’Elanna opened her mouth in an “o” of pleasure as she was tit-dragged away from her companions, her hands locked around the Jungle Fiend’s horns. Finally her assailant released her boobs, leaving Torres’ jugs free to rise and fall with her deep and panicked breathing, her palms pressed over her stinging nipples. Then she felt the enormous animal paw her legs and force her thighs to spread once more.
“Oh no, not agaaaaaaiiiieeee!!!” Voyager’s chief engineer arched her back and howled as her super-sensitive pussy was stretched wide by the thrusting cock of the Klingon Jungle Fiend. “Oh gawd, Melika, where are you?” the twenty-two year old gasped, the deep and rapid thrusts of her attacker making her boobs bounce beneath her hands and her long legs kick involuntarily as they were spread.
Torres wasn’t the only one receiving a second helping of a Jungle Fiend’s enormous meat. T’Pol’s plump lips were open and her generous udders swaying backwards and forwards beneath her as the First Modern Vulcan was once again mounted, this time from behind, the once-elegant and regal science officer reduced to gasps and moans as she was humped on all fours. Right beside her Deanna Troi was locked in an identical posture, the voluptuous counselor’s melons swinging energetically forwards and backwards every time the beast riding her rump thrust its broad cock into her tight snatch, the Betazoid’s black eyes rolling back in her head in pleasure.
Leah Brahms and her companions, Robinson and Mirren, were no better off. With legs spread, feet kicking and bare breasts bouncing, the three women squealed and bucked with every thrust, trapped on their backs beneath the pumping hips of the Jungle Fiends, helplessly wiggling and clutching at their boobs in involuntarily ecstasy as the incredible girths in their pussies and the Ladysnare aphrodisiacs still in their bodies hit all the right buttons.
B’Elanna felt it coming and couldn’t help herself. Her breasts rose with a deep breath in, her hands moving from her tits to clutch at her dark hair, and Voyager’s chief engineer orgasmed. “Aaahhh aaahhhhh UUUUHHHHH!!” Her long legs spread further still, the Klingon biting the knuckles of one hand while the other pressed down just above her pussy, where the beast’s broad cock continued to thrust.
Then Torres’ vision was filled with blazing red light. Something struck the chest of the Jungle Fiend mounting her and the monster recoiled. Its vast organ withdrew from B’Elanna’s kitty, the oversized head of its cock stretching the twenty-two year old’s pussy lips as it exited and making her gasp on the edge of yet another climax.
As her vision cleared of the ecstatic haze B’Elanna looked up to see another burst of phaser energy slam against the Jungle Fiend. Set on heavy stun so as to avoid endangering the women nearby, the phaser blast forced the armored animal to retreat into the jungle foliage with a whimper. Torres’ gaze lifted to the source of the shot.
Starheart was circling above, bringing its phaser weapons to bear on the beasts mounting its crew. Two heavy stun shots fell from the sky to drive off the monsters mounted T’Pol and Deanna, the two brunettes slumping tits-first to the ground. A few more shots convinced the last three Fiends, those trying to ride Ensign Mirren, Lieutenant Robinson and Leah Brahms, that the party was over. The final monstrous creature retreated into the jungle, leaving the six women groaning, shuddering and naked on the forest floor.
The forest canopy could not block Starheart’s metal body. The ship lowered itself through the jungle, snapping branches and crushing trees before it came to rest on its landing gears only a short distance from where B’Elanna and her companions lay nude with their bare breasts heaving as they panted for air.
The six Starfleet women tried to climb to their feet but found themselves too unsteady to walk. Bare thighs shook beneath still-trembling pussies, each beauty leaning forwards with breasts dangling. They fell back to the forest floor, the vigorous fucking each had endured leaving their legs too wobbly to support them.
And so instead they crawled. After a long and humiliating imprisonment, after having suffered the indignities of Torfik’s hunts, being deflowered by flora and bested by beasts, B’Elanna, Deanna, T’Pol and the three women fled the only way they could: on their hands and knees.
They were a delicious sight. Six firm rumps were lifted in the air as the groaning, trembling women crawled across the forest floor. Six pairs of breasts dangled beneath them, swaying left and right with each movement, their melons pushed together by their arms. Still gasping and shaking after their ordeal, pleasure still throbbing in their so-recently filled pussies, the half-dozen women moved slowly away from the site of their most recent ravishing.
+++++
Fingers clawed at the soil. Muscles bunched up beneath taut skin as Torfik dragged himself forwards, out of the Cavetrapper den. The hunter’s face was locked in an expression of hate-fueled determination.
The Romulan was far from dead. The enraged male Cavetrapper had returned to its nest, having failed to catch Torres, Troi and T’Pol and instead intent on venting its rage on Torfik’s body. Instead it had fallen to a volley of tranquilizer darts, its alien body overloaded with paralytics until it could no longer breathe. Fighting the toxins in his own body the Romulan had torn webbing from the den walls and pressed it into his wounds, the crudest of field dressings but enough to clot the flow of blood.
The paralytics conspired with his loss of blood. The next few hours had been a grey haze spiked with sharp pains as conscious returned in fits and starts. Now Torfik dragged himself along the forest floor, his legs limply scraping on the dirt.
“Dammit,” snarled the Romulan, one hand moving to a device at his belt and stabbing at its activation button. “It must pick up my signal!”
The Cavetrapper’s death struggles had inflicted more scratches and bruises on Torfik. More importantly, one of its claws had pierced the remote signaling device the Romulan had kept on him in case of emergencies like this one. He had been forced to salvage the power cell from his sonic repeller in order to repair the damaged signaler.
“Work,” he ordered, his voice a rasp. He pulled the device from his belt and stared at it, as if trying to will the rigged-together equipment to function. “Work!”
Torfik had shrouded his jungle with an interference field that now prevented him from being beamed to safety. He had carefully tuned his transporter system to work even through the interference, but even then it only operated at the very heart of the safe zone, where that interference was weakest. Instead Torfik attempted to summon the hover-platform, an anti-gravity transport that would be able to carry him out of the jungle.
He sent the signal but there was no confirmation bounce-back. The damaged device in his hands could not transmit far enough.
His last option, however, summoned aid to the wounded Romulan’s side.
There was a shimmering sound as a remote drone, designed to tail Torfik’s prey and record their perils for his later amusement, decloaked and descended from the forest canopy. The Romulan almost laughed in relief, watching the robotic drone float towards him on command.
“Drone three,” Torfik ordered, “Summon the hover platform to this location. Warm up the auto-medical equipment at camp two.” The drone’s monocular eye glowed briefly as it acknowledged its master’s command.
“Also,” the Romulan said, pushing himself onto his back as he turned his face towards the drone, “Give me the current observation feed on B’Elanna Torres and her chesty friends.”
The drone projected a holographic display on which text scrolled:
TORRES, B. NO CURRENT
FEED EXISTS. LAST LOCATION SECTOR 16.
TROI, D. NO CURRENT
FEED EXISTS. LAST LOCATION SECTOR 16.
T’POL. NO CURRENT FEED EXISTS. LAST LOCATION SECTOR 16.
“Sector sixteen?” snarled Torfik. “That’s right next to where I left that soft Starfleet scientist Brahms and her useless slut friends. Drone, give me the most recent thirty-seconds of recording of subject B’Elanna Torres.”
The drone complied. The holographic display transformed from simple text to a gorgeously detailed backdrop of lush jungle, as real and convincing as the dense rainforest around Torfik. The Romulan stared at the display.
What Torfik saw first made a smile twitch on his
face. B’Elanna Torres was nude except for one boot. Voyager’s chief engineer was crawling
along the ground on her hands and knees, her lovely hips shifting left and right
with her movements and her bare breasts dangling and swaying beneath her like
two ripe fruit. The sight of B’Elanna, the woman responsible
for his current condition, stripped nude and on all fours was unspeakably
satisfying to the Romulan. Naked, crawling and
shuddering the aftermath of a deep and vigorous fucking was exactly where B’Elanna Torres belonged.
The sight of her companions was even better. Troi and
T’Pol crawled alongside the Klingon,
the Betazoid’s pale and voluptuous figure and the
Vulcan’s lean yet full-breasted body also crawling pathetically along, tits
swaying and asses in the air. And adding to the view were Leah Brahms, Bronwyn
Gail Robinson and Oliana Mirren,
the three Starfleet women just as naked and just as unsteady on their feet, all
of them reduced to crawling nude on their hands and knees.
“So you found my trophy collection, B’Elanna,” Torfik grinned, watching the delicious dance of Torres’ tits as they swayed with her crawling motions. “Looks like something found you too. Is that Klingon snatch so sore you can’t walk? Poor little bitch!” he exulted.
The recordings point-of-view of B’Elanna’s nude body shifted, the cloaked drone having hovered around them. The Romulan enjoyed a side-on view of the six naked and crawling heroines, then a devastatingly lovely view of her asses as they crawled, pussy lips visible between their trembling thighs. But what came into vision next turned Torfik’s pleasure to fury.
The projecton showed Starheart’s beautiful silver form, resting on the forest floor with its cargo bay open. B’Elanna Torres was crawling up its ramp to safety and her naked companions were following her. “They escaped?” shouted Torfik, his exertion causing a spike of pain in his chest wound.
The Romulan lay back for a moment, feeling damp soil beneath the back of his head as he stared up though the canopy. Specks of blue sky could be seen through the dense foliage. Somewhere up there, somewhere out of reach, B’Elanna Torres and her slut-companions were celebrating their escape from Torfik’s jungle hell, congratulating themselves on defeating his plans, his creations, and him.
The thought filled the hunter with rage. “I should have
planted explosives on their ship when I had the chance,” he growled. “Drone,
prepare a long-distance message. Recipients will be all Starfleet vessels and
bases, the Betazoid embassy on Earth, the Klingon homeworld, Vulcan and a
general transmission into the
The Romulan could see a dark circular shape faintly visible through the canopy. As it dropped into the foliage, knocking branches and vines aside, he coule make it out: it was the hover-platform that had originally carried B’Elanna and her companions in the heart of Torfik’s hunting grounds. Summoned by the drone, the platform would now carry his brutalized body to safety.
“I’ll destroy all of them,” the Romulan smiled. “Everyone they know will see them as the naked, moaning whores that they are.”
Torfik’s smile became a gasp as a tendril rose from the soft moist soil beneath the back of his head and wrapped around his throat.
The Romulan struggled, hands gripping at the ropey tentacle around his neck. More tendrils rose from the mud to grab at his wrists. He jerked, his powerful body flexing, but he did not have the leverage to pull free.
Torfik had crawled from the Cavetrapper den to reach better reception and secure his rescue. In his haste he had crawled to the edge of a spawning ground of Denebian Slime Devils.
The Romulan screamed as his head was pulled back. He felt cold mud rise past his ears and cheeks before spilling into his open mouth. The last thing that came before his eyes as his face was pulled entirely into the muck was the hover-platform landing gently beside him, his rescue only a few feet away.
Without his sonic repeller, the Slime Devils could not differentiate between an animal that had foolishly wandered into their midst and their master. And the wounded Romulan’s position, flat on his back, made it all too easy for him to drown.
Torfik’s body shook and spasmed, the last of his strength leaving him in fits and jerks. His struggles weakened, his movements becoming sloppy as he suffocated under the mud.
The mindless robotic drone and even simpler hover-platform waited patiently beside their master as he died, unable to give aid or even to comprehend that he needed any.
Watching Torfik’s motionless corpse with mute robotic stupidity, the drone created a new holographic display with another text message.
DATA COMPILED WITH SUBJECTS BRAHMS, R. MIRREN, O. ROBINSON, B. TORRES, B. TROI, D. T’POL. RECIPIENTS SELECTED. TRANSMIT MESSAGE?
Torfik would never reply.
TO BE CONTINUED
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