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 24: A WOMAN ALONE
Blue mist brightened into a blaze of transporter energy as Deanna Troi, Commander, ship’s counselor, daughter of the Betazoid ambassador and voluptuous brunette, was beamed to a ground-based transporter pad on Ferenginar. She turned her beautiful dark eyes across the room, the expression on her imperiously beautiful face solemn and serious.
The twenty-nine year old Starfleet officer was clad in a simple grey jumpsuit that had been provided by the crew of the USS Enterprise, figure-hugging and zippered up the front. The taut fabric clung to her curvaceous body, closely following the lovely curve from her thigh and hip to her narrow waist and out again over her ample bust.
Deanna Troi was a woman on a mission. Having defeated the evil
Reman Rak, Troi now had to defeat the plans he had set in motion. Her companions,
the legendary Vulcan T’Pol and the half-Klingon rebel B’Elanna Torres, had been
sent to Ferenginar to be sold as slaves and now it
was up to the Betazoid counselor to find her friends.
“Welcome to Ferenginar,” announced a bored transporter attendant from behind the control console. Then the stunning beauty of the curvaceous young woman on the transporter pad drew his attention and his jug-eared head rose sharply. He reached over to his co-worker, who also wore a Transporter Guild uniform, and hit him on the shoulder to get his attention.
“First things first,” Deanna said breathily. The beautiful twenty-nine year old stepped off the transporter pad, her chin imperiously lifted, her shoulders set and her face resolute. Then with a sigh of resignation she pulled down the zipper of her jumpsuit, exposing a slice of pale skin from her collar to her cleft, and pulled open her outfit to bare her breasts.
Two Ferengi manning the controls of the transporter grinned at the sight of the haughty Starfleet officer’s melons, round and soft and tipped with big brown nipples. They watched as Deanna Troi stripped before them, peeling her jumpsuit from her pale shoulders and then leaning down to shimmy the tight garment down her long legs. Their grins widened as the counselor’s tits dangled and jiggled with her movement, the commander’s lovely dark eyes glancing up at them in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment as they watched her disrobe before them.
Ferengi law forbade females from wearing clothing in public, as Deanna and her companions had discovered the hard way. Posted here at a ground-based transporter pad, these Ferengi often got the savor the sight of foreign women stripping nude, flushing with embarrassment as they were forced to comply with Ferengi cultural laws. Occasionally they were ‘forced’ to disrobe visiting females against their will: with the press of a button they could beam a woman’s clothing directly off her. But they rarely had the chance to ogle a woman as beautiful and full-figured as Deanna Troi.
Stepping out of her clothing the counselor straightened, drawing in a tit-lifting breath to steady her nerves. Troi had been reduced to wearing only her boots and an equipment belt slung low around her wide pale hips, leaving her delicious breasts bare, her round bottom exposed and her perfect bald pussy uncovered.
The two Ferengi smirked at the sight. “There’s still the
matter of the transport charge, female.”
From a pouch at her belt Troi produced a slip of latinum, paying the transporter operators for their end of the beam-in, and she moved to leave the room. The two Ferengi continued to leer, watching the counselor’s round ass wiggle as she walked away.
Deanna stepped outside into a freezing downpour. “Ferenginar is just as welcoming as ever,” the brunette beauty complained. The chill of moisture in the air made Deanna shiver, her bare skin gaining goosebumps and her nipples immediately stiffening to erect nubs. Her only protection from the elements was an umbrella, which she now unfurled and lifted over her head. “T’Pol, B’Elanna,” she breathed, “Hold on. I’m coming to bring you home.”
+++++
B’Elanna Torres and T’Pol stood side by side, their lips open in gasps and their dark eyes rolling in pleasure and humiliation.
Voyager’s chief
engineer and
As a final humiliation both Torres and T’Pol had the words FOR SALE printed on their breasts in big black letters. Those words were magnified a hundred times their size as holograms in the air above them as the two Starfleet officers were presented on the auction block of Ferenginar, two prime slaves ready for sale.
The Klingon and the Vulcan gave each other helpless glances, humiliated outrage obvious on B’Elanna’s face while T’Pol’s Vulcan façade had cracked with her plump lips parted and an embarrassed blush on her cheeks
“The bid is at four hundred bars of gold pressed latinum,” declared the Ferengi auctioneer. He stood behind the two women, his hands low between their thighs. Orange fingers diddled at B’Elanna and T’Pol’s sensitive slits, making the two brunettes wiggle and moan in ecstatic humiliation. Before an audience of tens of thousands the two women bucked and jerked in pleasure, their expressions and sounds and heaving tits presented to the enormous crowd. “These two are worth every slip and more. Is there another bid?”
Deanna Troi touched the pause button and the hologram froze, T’Pol and Torres trapped with their bodies bound and naked while shame and pleasure mingled on their faces. The Betazoid regarded the recording with quiet dismay, despairing that her companions had once again had to suffer the indignity of being sold as slaves in the Ferengi markets. But there was a silver lining in this cloud.
“These records show they were sold as a pair,” Deanna read, shifting her balance from foot to foot, her naked hips moving enticingly as she worked industriously in the small news cubical. It was one of a row of streetside cubbyholes in which pedestrians could stop and peruse the days’ events and access the Ferengi databases, for a price of course.
Deanna quickly found what she was looking for: a delivery receipt at the sale’s finalization. “They were transported offworld,” the dark-eyed beauty discovered, “To an old outpost called Dekiw-2.” She exhaled, relieved to at least have a place to start.
But she had another trail to track. Troi lowered her face as
her fingers moved across the keyboard, the light of her screens shining on the
delicious moons of her bare breasts as her melons quivered with her keytaps. “Elizabeth Shelby, where have they taken you?”
+++++
Her name was K’Nysa, and she was an accomplished survivor in Ferenginar’s merciless slave trade. An Orion, K’Nysa was a raven-haired beauty with rich green skin and richer curves to her hips, bottom and breasts while retaining the slim of thighs and waist of a ballet dancer. Her incredible body was covered by a lightweight, almost transparent robe that trailed down to her firm calves as she walked from console to console.
“Three hundred females?” she said skeptically, her light clothing failing to cover her nipples as they bobbed with her steps. “I wish I had a processing order that big. Sorry darling, can’t help you.”
Deanna Troi followed the Orion woman as she moved from console to console, the Betazoid’s bare breasts leaping with her haste to keep up with the taller, longer-legged K’Nysa. “My employer is very interested in acquiring those women,” the counselor insisted, “He went to a great deal of time and trouble only to see them slip away.”
K’Nysa halted, turning and looking up and down Deanna’s voluptuous naked figure with a frown. “Do I know you?”
“I have one of those faces that people find familiar,” Deanna said quickly.
The two women had met before, although it seemed that K’Nysa had forgotten. In this conditioning laboratory the Orion fine-tuned women destined for the slave market, subtly transforming them to increase their sale price. A normal woman would go in and emerge with hyper-sensitive erogenous zones, a metabolism that made it virtually impossible to put on weight and ruin their figure, enhanced healing and their rate of aging halted. The slaves that underwent K’Nysa’s conditioning were incredible in the bedchamber, and would remain that way for centuries.
Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol had all undergone the Orion’s conditioning when they had first arrived on Ferenginar. But K’Nysa didn’t seem to recall the raven-haired counselor. She had probably processed hundreds of women since the wide-hipped, full-breasted Betazoid had passed through the lab.
“I work for the Moonlight Bounty delivery service,” Troi explained, hoping to divert the Orion from thoughts of where she had previously seen her tasty curvaceous figure. “If you look at our history of slave purchases you’ll see we have the funds to make a generous offer.”
K’Nysa laughed, turning and continuing her patrol around the consoles and readouts. “That would interest me if I had the women you were looking for. I don’t. There are only a handful of facilities on Ferenginar big enough to store and process three hundred women, and this isn’t one of them.”
“But you know your competition,” Deanna insisted. “You know which conditioning centers can work that many. They don’t advertise openly.”
The Orion paused, her green shoulders straightening. She turned around, flicking her dark hair over one shoulder, her lush full breasts and perfect bald nethers easily visible through her transparent garments. “I think you should leave, delivery girl. I can’t help you.”
Deanna sighed, her black eyes steady on K’Nysa, and then she turned and walked for the door. The Orion enjoyed a lovely view of Troi’s wiggling bottom as she departed.
“It’s dangerous!” the green-skinned beauty called out, “Getting involved in Starfleet.”
Troi froze. Slowly the brunette beauty turned to look back at the Orion. Too late her empathy warned her that K’Nysa did remember her, suddenly able to place the counselor’s beautiful face and lush figure from her memory. And this Orion woman did business with slavers.
“Going against Starfleet could bring the Federation down on you,” K’Nysa continued in a warning tone, “And clients don’t like that kind of attention. And teaming up with Starfleet? That’s even worse. There was a family in the Orion Syndicate, maybe you’ve heard of them?”
The Orion beauty walked around one of her conditioning vats, her fingertips trailing across the transparent aluminum. Suspended in the vat’s gel was a nude figure, strapped spread-eagle into a frame. A bundle of life-support tubes snaked up between her legs, nestling in the woman’s vagina and ass, while a mask obscured much of her face. From the ridges on her forehead the woman was a Klingon, and possessed a stunningly beautiful figure. Her trim athletic body contrasted her surprisingly soft and generous breasts, bobbing buoyantly in the gel. Her dark hair radiated around her face and her eyes were half-open, as if dazed.
Deanna knew that at this very moment this poor Klingon woman was undergoing the
same conditioning she, T’Pol and Torres had endured. She might have gone in a
warrior, but she would emerge a sex-slave, easy to reduce to squeals of
ecstasy. Troi didn’t know how the Klingon had been captured and why she did not
commit suicide, as her culture required of her in the event of captivity. She
could only presume the woman could not choose death. Instead she had chosen the
life of a whore.
“This family thought that it was time for the Syndicate to change,” the Orion K’Nysa continued, her barely-clad figure indistinct behind the see-through vat, her curves concealed behind the naked Klingon suspended in the gel. “They thought co-operating with the Federation was the path to that change. But that opinion wasn’t popular with the other Orion families.”
K’Nysa completed her walk around the Klingon’s container, her her expression reflective. Deanna was suddenly struck but just how beautiful the Orion was, possessing an incredible body balanced between lush fullness and slim youthfulness and an achingly attractive face. “The family was hamstrung. All their former allies turned on them. Their businesses were destroyed, their home burned to the ground, and most of the family were killed. Most of them. The youngest daughter, the prettiest one, was sold into slavery on Ferenginar and was never seen again. Or I thought I would never see her again.”
The Orion beauty walked towards Deanna with slow and careful steps, her lips trembling faintly as she hesitated at what she was about to do. “But I’ve been seeing that girl more and more often, Deanna Troi.”
The counselor breathed deeply in astonishment. “But…”
K’Nysa halted, her silk-covered melons only inches away from Deanna’s bare breasts. “I know where your friends are.”
+++++
Captain Elizabeth Shelby of the USS Sutherland wailed in defeat, her blue eyes wide.
Her Starfleet uniform was nothing but a distant memory. The beautiful blonde was naked except for a pair of gravity shackles on her wrists and the words “FOR SALE” printed on her bare breasts. Those breasts now bounced vigorously back and forth, dangling beneath the Captain as she was thrust into from behind.
Her gravshacks were locked together behind her back and programmed
to repel gravity. This meant they lifted her wrists up behind her, forcing
The Sutherland’s Captain
had been positioned in front of a mechanical frame. Rubber-wrapped claws held
her thighs apart as a broad and long dildo thrust repeatedly in and out of her snatch.
A second voice joined
A pair of mechanical arms rose up to grab and molest Robin Lefler’s dangling breasts. The green-eyed young woman moaned and gasped as her tits were squeezed and her teats twisted. A cry of distress and pleasure was pulled from her lips as the machines yanked her boobs down by the nipples, her supple titflesh distending downward in cones. The words “FOR SALE” on her boobs lengthened with her stretching boobs. Then the machine released her breasts, giving the Lieutenant a few seconds to blink tears of ecstasy out of her eyes and try to catch her breath. But then it began to slap and smack at her tits, making her melons jump and leap and making the young woman cry out with fresh humiliation and pleasure.
The two women’s snatches were now completely hairless, the result of Orion conditioning. Like Troi, Torres and T’Pol, Shelby and Lefler would never again have to shave their legs or armpits, a convenience for a sex slave that made them more aesthetically pleasing to Ferengi customers.
A Nausican stood beside the mechanical rigs that were molesting the blonde and the brunette, overlooking a console that controlled the assault on the two Starfleet officer’s sexy and newly-enhanced bodies. “Almost,” he grinned, his mandibles twitching as his eyes moved from the sterile readouts to the gorgeous sight of Elizabeth Shelby and Robin Lefler naked, bound and assaulted in their most sensitive places by the machines.
Captain Shelby lifted her face and squealed, producing an incredibly high-pitched cry that rose and rose, her back arching and her pink-nippled tits rising. Then the blonde slumped, gasping and shuddering even as the machine fucking her continued, making her body quake from her hips to her dangling breasts.
“Direct intercourse on the standard setting, large girth,” the Nausican recorded, “Second orgasm achieved at three minutes fifty seconds.”
“The blonde is definitely ready for the market,” another Nausican beside him commented. “How’s the green-eyed one going?”
At that moment Robin Lefler wailed, wiggling her shoulders as both of her breasts were yanked down by the mechanical arms holding onto her nipples. Her eyes shut tightly as she cummed, one foot leaving the floor as she bent her knee, her bare heel nearly touching her lovely bottom.
“First orgasm was right on the two minute mark,” reported the Nausicaan looking over the console. “This one has great sensitivity in her tits. Orbaag, I think someone has been playing with this girl’s boobs before we got to her.”
Orbaag nodded, looking over the wiggling and panting forms of Shelby and Lefler. “Keep them going. I want reports up to the fifth orgasm. Rak said he wanted detailed information for that flying whorehouse he has planned for these Starfleet bitches.” The Nausican turned around, looking across the room to where another test was taking place.
His gaze fell on the beautiful Leah Brahms. Her stellar career had lifted off with the design and development of the Galaxy class engines, where the blue-eyed, creamy-skinned woman had excelled and gone on to work as the project lead on the engines of the later Sovereign class, making Leah Brahms one of the most respected names in her field.
Now she was naked, her wrists shackled behind her back and the words “FOR SALE” printed in big black letters on her bare breasts. Unlike Lefler and Shelby she was not being molested by any machine, but was undergoing a different kind of test.
Leah Brahms knelt nude before an enormous grinning Nausicaan. The moistness between her thighs and the pink marks on her breasts revealed that the young woman had already endured the ‘testing’ that Lefler and Shelby were now undergoing. Now she had moved on to the next stage. With her wrists shackled behind her back she could do nothing as she was forced to suckle on an enormous Nausican cock.
“How is the muscle memory program?” Orbaag called out.
Running the fingers of one big hand through Leah’s brown hair, the Nausican tester grunted in approval. “Maybe you should try her out,” he said, reaching down to squeeze one of the engine designer’s FOR SALE tits, making the nude beauty shut her eyes in unwanted pleasure as her conditioned body responded. The mole on her lip trembled as she quaked in humiliation at this ordeal, the Nausican’s cock exploring every inch of her mouth.
“Before the programming she didn’t know what to do. Now it’s second nature.” Sure enough Brahms was bobbing up and down on the Nausican’s meat with skillful grace, tonguing his shaft and kissing and sucking on his head. “And it keeps her from talking, too.” Leah’s blue eyes shot daggers up at the man, which earned her a slap across her bare breasts that made her flinch in discomfort as her titflesh wobbled across her chest. “But she’s a first class cocksucker,” the Nausican admitted, which caused Brahms to shoot another angry look at him, which he rewarded with another smack across her sensitive tits.
Orbaag nodded in approval. “And how’s our special redhead?” He turned and spotted the fourth subject, the sight of her making his ugly face split in a grin.
Ensign Hedril was a Cairn, and the first member of her telepathic species to join Starfleet. Her persistence and intelligence had been rewarded by a position on the USS Sutherland. Now her pale creamy skin, round bottom, full and supple breasts and gorgeous face were being rewarded with a starring role.
The eighteen year old wore nothing except her gravshacks. She was on her hands and knees, crawling sexily forwards with her “FOR SALE” breasts dangling beneath her and her firm ass waving left and right as she moved. Ahead of her was a slim metal pole, fastened vertically to the floor. She crawled towards it and rubbing her flank around the shaft like a cat, arching her back and presenting her breasts.
“I never thought I would see a non-Orion receiving class Nine conditioning,” one of the Nausicans commented. “But her brain is very receptive. Something about the kind of image-telepathy her species uses.”
Hedril rose to her knees, rising up with her back against the pole, her curves sexily wriggling. She moved almost against her will, following the trained muscle-memory impulses of her Class Nine Orion Conditioning. Her face was lowered in shame, her blue eyes on her own swaying breasts as she stood, then lowered herself with legs spread wide and hips gyrating, the hairless folds of her perfect pussy displayed. She slid upwards, running her hands down over the mounds of her breasts, her slim waist and over her curving hips. The Ensign leaned forward, her red hair falling in front of her face, and then flicked her head back to get her long locks out of the way of her dangling tits.
“Cute little redhead,” Orbaag
breathed in admiration as Ensign Hedril unwillingly
performed in front of him and his Nausican men.
The eighteen year old swayed her hips left and right, slinking back behind the pole. But the narrow vertical shaft was far too skinny to cover her sexy figure. One long leg wrapped around the rod and she half-climbed the pole, stretching her free leg out and twirling slowly around. She slid down, coming to rest with the pole pressed between her breasts and her arms squeezing her tits together around the shaft.
With a quick bobbing movement she rose and fell, the pole pumping between her
boobs and over her snatch. Hedril’s blue eyes shut in
pleasure and embarrassment, trying to wrap her arms around her tits but only
squeezing her melons even more tightly around the shaft. She was a slave to her
conditioning, an unwilling expert at this slutty
dance.
With sexy slides and wiggles she circled around, presenting her firm pale ass to Orbaag. Hedril gripped the pole and leaned backwards, arching over with her bald pussy pressing hard against the cold metal and her breasts jiggling and dangling towards her face, pink nipples painfully erect. The Ensign gyrated, her lips parting with pleasure as she unwillingly stimulated her super-sensitive pussy. With moans of ecstasy she slid down until she was lying on the floor, arching her back to press her snatch against the pole.
“Almost too good to give back to Rak,” Orbaag smiled. “As for the others, we should test the entire batch. We don’t work often on humans and we should be sure we don’t have any defective…” He was interrupted by a buzzing noise from his communicator. He lifted it to his face. “Orbaag here, what is it?”
As the Nausican listened to the voice on the communicator a frown deepened his ugly features. “You’re sure? You can’t just say something like that and not be sure.” He listened for a few more seconds before interrupting. “Listen, I have three hundred Starfleet sluts in storage here, most of them already conditioned and the rest nearly there. I’d love to sell them independently but if you’re wrong about Rak and we end up selling his whores he’ll skin us and… I’m glad you understand.”
The Nausican switched off his communicator and turned his gaze towards Shelby and Lefler. The two women were still bucking and moaning, pussies and breasts molested vigorously by the machines testing their pleasure thresholds, pushing them into deeper and more humiliating orgasms.
“Get those bitches off the machines!” Orbaag
ordered, “We’re putting them back into cold storage!”
++++
“His name is Orbaag,” K’Nysa said, “He runs a conditioning plant south of the capital, disguised as a cold-storage meat warehouse. Which it is, in a way,” the Orion added. “They can store a large number of women in cryostasis until they secure a buyer. The last few days he’s been unloading his regular business in my direction. I think he’s received a huge order, something that had crammed his warehouse to capacity.”
“Three hundred women kidnapped from the Sutherland would do that,” Troi surmised.
The green-skinned K’Nysa nodded. “If you’re right about Rak being dead, Orbaag will start looking for other buyers. But he won’t rush into a sale, not with Rak being involved. He’s scared to death of the Reman. Half of Ferenginar is. They simply won’t take the risk that Rak isn’t dead.”
“If this Orbaag sells Shelby and the others and Rak comes back asking for them,” Deanna figured, “He’ll be held responsible. He won’t sell them right away, so I have some time to figure something out.”
“They’re safe,” K’Nysa confirmed, “Until Orbaag finds a generous enough buyer, and his courage.” At her words Troi wanted to leap for joy. Elizabeth Shelby and the rest of the Sutherland’s crew were not yet slaves!
Her thoughts were interrupted by K’Nysa’s hand on her bare arm. “Troi?”
“Yes?”
“That Orion girl I told you about? She’s someone’s property too,” the Orion admitted in a soft voice. “One day, she might want someone to buy her freedom and ride her off this planet to somewhere drier.” K’Nysa’s beautiful face lowered, her eyes shyly moving down Deanna’s lush figure. “Somewhere like the Federation. But until then, she might be able to help you find other women.”
Deanna Troi reached out and took K’Nysa’s
hands gently. Despite still being so far from her friends, the Betazoid felt
more confident than she could remember. Suddenly the dream of toppling the
slave trade, of ending the endless humiliating market and ensuring real lives
for the women trapped in it, was a real and tangible thing. “Thank you.”
+++++
Robin Lefler was the last of the Sutherland’s crew to be returned to cold storage.
The Lieutenant wiggled sexily in a half-hearted attempt to pull free of her captor. The Nausican grunted in annoyance, grabbing Lefler’s long braid and yanking on it. The young woman gasped, arching her back and thrusting her firm breasts forward as she was forced down to her knees with tit-jiggling force.
In humiliated silence she stayed there, naked and kneeling with her wrists bound behind her back. Her green eyes considered the words FOR SALE printed on her bare breasts in mute despair, her nipples still stingingly erect from the molesting they had received during her ‘testing’.
“It’s a damn shame.” The comment from the Nausican standing behind her made Robin look up. The nude Starfleet officer and her captor were riding on a hover-platform built to maneuver cargo around the conditioning warehouse, moving goods from level to level. The massive refrigerated room she now found herself in was where Elizabeth Shelby’s crew was being stored.
Cryostasis pods were assembled in rows along the walls, hundreds of them. The warehouse was filled to capacity with the women that Robin Lefler had once called her crewmates. Behind every transparent pod cover was one of the Sutherland’s crew, like Lefler completely naked and bound, with no hope of covering their delicious naked figures. Everywhere she looked she saw bare breasts pressing against the see-through canopies, thighs and pussies and faces frozen in shock and humiliation and disbelief, each woman trapped with the expressions she had worn when each had been locked into stasis.
“Three hundred perfected sluts,” the Nausican continued, admiring the sight of so many once-proud Starfleet officers reduced to helpless nudity and bondage. “The best conditioning latinum can buy. Now just meat in storage.” To show his frustration he gave Lefler’s brain another yank. The Lieutenant yelped, rising on her knees, her now-bald pussy visible between her trim thighs.
“Will this ever end?” wondered the Lieutenant silently. Robin had suffered many humiliations and indignities at the hands of the Jem’Hadar on Vulcan, alongside Shelby and Hedril. After that experience the green-eyed beauty had imagined that the worst was behind her, that now she could overcome anything. But worse had come. The Sutherland had been invaded, Lefler stripped, raped and forced to orgasm. And when that ordeal had ended another had begun: the crippled Sutherland had been easy pickings for slavers. And after this Robin could only imagine what use might be made of her delicious naked body.
That was the worst part for the Lieutenant. She had
struggled and achieved in Starfleet, honing her skills, her knowledge and her
judgment, earning a higher grade of uniform. Now that uniform was gone and she
was nothing but a naked body, a pretty face attached to a prettier pair of tits
and a neat bald pussy. The Starfleet officer had become a sex slave.
The warehouse was kept cold. The chill air made goosebumps rise on Robin’s bare skin and made the erect stubs of her sensitive nipples sting even worse. But her own humiliation took second place to the terrible sight before her. Lefler’s green eyes picked out Linda, a teenaged Asian Ensign. They had been friends: Robin had been intending to meet up with the younger woman to enjoy a holodeck trip to the Andorian ski slopes before the Sutherland had come under attack. To her dismay the Lieutenant saw that Linda’s once-humble breasts were now swollen to melons, pressing hard against the see-through cover of her cryopod. Like many of the less-endowed women of the Sutherland, the Asian’s hormones had been adjusted to enhance her attributes. She had been frozen while looking down in wide-eyed disbelief at her now-generous udders, the words FOR SALE clearly printed on the slopes of her breasts.
“You monsters,” Robin whispered, “Some day you’ll get your aaiiee!!!” Lefler was interrupted by a Nausican hand reaching down to grip her left tit and squeeze. She mewled, her erect nipples poking against the man’s palm as he massaged her softness.
“Get my what?” the goon smiled, “Get my share of your sweet titties? I could manage that.” His other hand found Robin’s right breast and with a cruel grin he lifted the Lieutenant up on her feet, using her too-sensitive boobs as hand holds.
Tears of pleasure and humiliation ran down Robin’s cheeks as she was forced to stand completely naked before the Nausican, his hands firm around her udders. He squeezed and massaged her melons, making the young woman wiggle and moan in unwanted pleasure. She thrashed her head in objection, her braided hair flicking against her exposed ass and her thighs rubbing sensuously together beneath her now-hairless snatch.
The slaver took his time as he molested the Lieutenant’s udders, knowing exactly how much it would affect her. Her initial hope that he would only stay interested for a few seconds faded as she endured a minute of groping, and then another. Every second that the Nausican’s hands were on her exquisitely-sensitive breasts brought her closer and closer to orgasm.
“Oh gawd,” the Lieutenant moaned,
“No, please, I’m going to…”
Robin’s eyes opened wide, then rolled back, then shut tight. Her lips clamped together to hold in her cries and then were forced open as she mewled in ecstasy. Her thighs shook beneath her, pleasure weakening her muscles. But the man simply held tightly on to Lefler’s tits, causing even greater tension on her boobs and bringing the pleasure throbbing in her sex-slave body to a peak.
“Like I said,” leered the Nausican, “A perfected slut.” At his words Lefler’s face went stiff with anger even through her ecstasy. Her green eyes lifted to lock on to her captor but before she could speak she was pushed by her tits off the platform.
Her back thumped against the interior of a cryopod. While the man had been groping her tits the platform had been moved into position by a pod that was waiting for her.
The Nausicaan gave Lefler’s tits one last squeeze goodbye before releasing her soft chest treats and hitting the pod controls. The see-through cover snapped shut over her stasis pod. Robin gasped as her breasts, slightly too large for the narrow confines of this high-tech prison, flattened against the cold canopy. Her tantalizingly tender teats throbbed with ecstasy as they rubbed against the hard surface.
Robin’s beautiful face lowered as she looked at her own boobs, biting her lip. She was still so close to cumming, her conditioned body begging for release. Involuntarily the Lieutenant wiggled in her pod, her nipples squeaking as they moved across the canopy, her orgasm finally rising up within her.
The cryopod activated and all movement in the young woman’s naked body immediately ceased. Lieutenant Robin Lefler of the USS Sutherland was left staring down at her own aching breasts, biting her lip in involuntary pleasure, frozen at the edge of orgasm.
She would remain that way until her owners were ready to
sell her as a sex slave.
+++++
Rak had also stolen one more thing from Deanna: he had taken away Starheart. The experimental transwarp ship had been the core of Moonlight Bounty, the delivery business they used as a front to rescue women from the Ferengi slave market. Without that ship Deanna had no means of transport, and only the dwindling funds they had saved for an emergency. While Troi, Torres and T’Pol owned a manor and estate just outside the Ferengi capital, selling it for cash could take weeks that Deanna did not have. With every passing hour her friends could be carried further and further away.
“The latinum the Enterprise could spare me hasn’t lasted long,” Deanna thought to herself as the gorgeous Starfleet officer walked naked down a crowded Ferengi street, her hips swinging with an unconsciously sexy gait, each step making her bare breasts bounce seductively. “I know they wanted to help more but there are too many diplomatic issues, and the Prime Directive. I need transport.” The nude Betazoid shifted her umbrella on her bare shoulder. “And I need to find it by myself.”
As the voluptuous raven-haired beauty walked the crowd
parted for her, Ferengi eyes appreciating her bare flesh. Deanna didn’t have to
be an empath to sense all the men enjoying the sight of her curvy naked figure.
Eyes roamed over her round ass and her milky melons, drinking in the sight of
her luscious curves and watching for a glimpse of her bare pussy lips. She
tried to ignore their attention but it required an effort: the Betazoid could
sense the pleasure of the men who gazed on her nudity, causing her heart to
beat faster and her body to warm from within. Her belt offered only the tiniest
amount of modesty, its wide strap hanging low enough around her curving hips to
almost cover the hairless perfection
of her snatch, but still offered a peek of her pussy lips as she walked.
Troi’s Orion conditioning meant that her lush body was now perfectly tuned, her aging process slowed to a halt and her erogenous responses heightened to make her a moaning and compliant sex toy. It had also unexpectedly heightened her empathic abilities to the point where she could no longer switch them off, and could even read the thoughts of the unusually-lobed Ferengi brain. So Deanna Troi had to endure what she sensed from the men around her as they watched the lovely Starfleet officer walk naked among them.
“Here it is,” Troi thought as she reached her destination, “Starport Four.”
It was one of many ports dotted around the Ferengi capital where private owners picked up and dropped off cargo between trips. “If I’m going to find anyone in my price range to transport me to Dekiw-2, this is it,” thought the counselor. Small transport craft, little more than shuttles, were lined up with their respective Captains watching as goods were moved in and out of their cargo holds. It was an excellent opportunity for the empathic Betazoid to scan them.
This was why a dozen shuttle ‘Captains’ and their crews got to enjoy the sight of Deanna Troi strutting naked past them, moving at a casual but sexy saunter, letting each and every man get a good long look at her curvaceous figure. She lifted herself a little higher on her calves in order to heighten the bounce of her breasts and widening the swing of her sexy hips. As the counselor made herself an even sexier sight attention focused on the Betazoid like a laser.
Deanna had to close her eyes as pleasure welled up inside her, dozens and dozens of men drinking in the sight of her naked body, excited by the view of her bare breasts, bald pussy and round ass. But the more their attention focused on her, the easier it was for Troi to read their thoughts. She had precious little money but the saucy counselor one very important resource: her sexy naked body.
The empath scanned from man to man, seeking out the Captains of the little vessels. Her dark eyes found theirs and her sensitive mind picked out the information she needed. “I need to find a man who will accept an extra passenger,” she thought as she scanned, “Without asking for anything unreasonable as payment.”
But as she empathically swept the crowd Deanna’s hopes faded. Most of the men here were untrustworthy, idly imagining how they might take their brunette passenger’s money, fuck her senseless and then pass her on to their crew or sell her into slavery. Many were just as excited by the thought of how much latinum her voluptuous figure could earn on the auction block as they were by the idea of enjoying her stunning body. She dove into mind after mind, each time finding images of herself wailing in pleasure as she was relentlessly banged, legs spread, breasts bouncing, before finally being led shackled and humiliated to the Ferenginar auction Dome to be sold as a slave.
And those who were not imagining fucking the voluptuous counselor were either completely uninterested in taking on a passenger or were traveling nowhere near where she needed to go.
It took twenty minutes for Deanna Troi to finish her circuit of the starport. By the end of her walk she was acutely uncomfortable at being nude before so many men, so many of them harboring such unscrupulous thoughts about her.
She turned with a sexy twist, shifting her umbrella from one
bare shoulder to the other and tried to repress the chill running down her
completely naked body. “They can’t all be
sex-mad scumbags,” Deanna thought. She started heading back around Starport Four again, scanning over minds she had already
swept, trying to separate idle thoughts from actual intentions and in the
process enduring another long round of eyes on her voluptuous naked body. After
a few more minutes of empathy, Deanna settled on one ship captain who seemed to
be her best bet. Her naked legs moving quickly as she approached him, the
counselor fervently hoped that she was on the money.
+++++
Rednal had been watching the lovely pale-skinned woman strutting about the starport for several minutes now. The Orion’s great height made it easy for him to look over the heads of the crowd to follow the gorgeous female’s movements. The voluptuous and naked tramp, all swinging hips and jiggling tits, was a far more enjoyable sight than his sweating and laboring crew as they hauled cargo into his little transport. The Orion’s smile of appreciation grew broader as the raven-haired beauty changed course and began to walk directly towards him, her dark eyes considering the gigantic green-skinned man with noticeable trepidation.
His men were noticing too, and were slackening off in their work. “Get that cargo inside!” the Orion ordered, glancing to be sure his men were obeying him before returning his eyes to the pale beauty of the curvaceous young woman approaching him.
“You’re this ship’s Captain?” Deanna started, “What’s your destination?” The counselor’s eyes were slightly wide as she looked up and down the enormous Orion. At this close range she could see the ship Captain was much bigger than he had seemed at a distance. He was tall and broad and a bit wide around the middle, easily three times the five-foot-three counselor’s weight and strong enough to lift her in one hand.
Rednal returned the favor, looking up and down the Betazoid’s luscious body. Her beautiful curves were a match for any Orion female, but she was likely to be far less spirited and demanding than one of Rednal’s species. He didn’t mind the idea of a girl that didn’t claw his back with her nails. “A mining outpost at the alpha edge of the Woran Nebula. The name’s Rednal, by the way,” he added, noting that the Betazoid’s nipples were erect on the globes of her breasts. Her umbrella did not completely protect her smooth bare skin from the chill of the rain.
“
“Near it,” admitted Rednal, now
admiring the bald smoothness of “
“My business,” Troi said haughtily, trying to maintain an imperious air despite the fact that she was wearing nothing but her boots, a belt and an umbrella. Dekiw-2 was the last stop in T’Pol and B’Elanna’s humiliating journey, and the only place Deanna could hope to pick up their trail again. “You have room for a passenger?”
Her empathy told Deanna that Rednal
had more than enough room to take her onboard. But the Orion pretended to
consider it, his eyes drinking in the sight of the nude Starfleet officer. The
busty brunette found herself flushing from the intense attention as the giant’s
eyes moved up and down her delicious curves.
“I suppose I could bring along an extra body,” he said in the end, all the while gazing at the body he was going to bring along. “But I don’t run a free ferry service.”
Deanna straightened, leveling her shoulders and unconsciously thrusting her bare breasts forwards. “I’m prepared to pay standard rates.”
“I’ll bet you are.” Rednal found that the more he examined Deanna Troi’s figure, the more enticing she became. He wondered what it would feel like to take those round boobs in his hands, imagining how all that titflesh would feel when he squeezed her melons in his fingers. “But there are a few conditions.”
Troi felt a shiver run down her bare back. “Name them.”
“First, you stay at my side at all times. My men have had more than an eyeful of you already,” he said, noting that many of his crew were still slowing their work to openly ogle the nude Betazoid’s lush attributes, “And I wouldn’t want any of them to be tempted by the idea of you being by your lonesome.”
Deanna sensed a spike of attention on her as Rednal’s crew, overhearing the conversation, realized that they might be bringing the full-figured brunette aboard. “Reasonable,” she said, her boobs rising with a nervous breath.
“Second,” the Orion smiled, gesturing to Troi’s nudity with a big green hand, “You stay just like you are. No clothes. Besides, I don’t think we have anything that would fit you.”
The idea of spending the trip entirely naked did not appeal
to the
“And lastly,
The counselor sighed with involuntary pleasure. The feeling of Rednal holding her boobs, his fingers squeezing her titflesh and his thumbs flicking over her erect nipples, was incredible. Her beautiful dark eyes closed and she drew in a breath, her chest swelling and her melons rising in the Orion’s hands.
And more powerful was the sensation she was sensing from all
of the other men in the starport. Most of the Captains
and crew around them were watching their exchange with great interest and
greater envy. Each of the men watching thrilled at the sight of the Betazoid’s
breasts being fondled, and each wanted to be the man with “
“I’m sure you can figure out what the last condition will be,” Rednal said.
Deanna tried to keep her breathing steady as every deep inhalation caused her tits to shift, and made the Orion’s fingers tighten slightly on her soft breasts. It was a wonderful feeling, and she felt a deep and guilty pleasure as she stood there allowing her boobs to be squeezed. “Another reason I’ll be staying by your side,” she said breathlessly.
Rednal grinned. “Then we have a
deal?”
+++++
Twenty minutes later Deanna Troi was lying on a bunk in Rednal’s quarters. The Betazoid was flat on her back, her long legs spread wide, her feet kicking in the air and her breasts bouncing vigorously on her chest as the Orion thrust deeply into her tight pussy. “Ooohhh ooohh aahhhh aaahhh!!!” cried the counselor, biting at her knuckles and shutting her eyes tightly as she was overwhelmed with pleasure.
Rednal pumped his hips with a rapid rhythm, the broad green mass of his Orion cock stretching Troi’s pussy lips and driving her wild. She bucked and moaned and arched her back, thrusting her tits upwards. The Orion rewarded her display by grabbing her melons and squeezing tightly, feeling the counselor’s erect nipples poking against his palms. Every touch seemed to stimulate the voluptuous Betazoid further as her conditioned body responded to the fucking, her lush figure gyrating in time to the cock pistoning into her snatch. Between her level eight Orion conditioning, her enhanced empahic powers and her mouthwatering voluptuous figure, Deanna Troi was the perfect mate.
The
Overwhelmed both by her super-sensitive body and her empathic powers feeding Rednal’s pleasure into her mind, Deanna Troi shrieked in ecstasy with each thrust, shaking her head and making her dark hair fly. She grabbed at his hands, pulling them hard against her tits, urging him to squeeze her melons tighter. She clenched her legs around his waist, pulling his hips closer to hers and bringing his meatstick deeper into her channel. Helpless in her pleasure, counselor Troi became a willing plaything as she was relentlessly fucked out of her mind.
Just as Deanna thought she might honestly go mad with pleasure, the Orion reached his peak. Gripping Deanna’s ankles Rednal drew the Starfleet officer’s legs wide apart, and thrust all of his eleven-inch cock into her passage. Troi gasped and arched her back, tits quivering on her chest, a perfect posture to urge the Orion onward as he blew his load and filled the Betazoid’s womb with his seed. He grunted, pumping a few more times into the counselor’s quaking snatch.
“Oh my gaawd,” she panted, one hand on her heaving bosom and
the other at the side of her face, “Oh god, oh dammit,
oh that was too much!” The Orion’s broad organ popped out of her tightness as
the green-skinned man left the
After a moment to collect himself Rednal headed for his quarter’s intercom controls, his large frame causing deep thumps as his feet hit the deck. His big green fingers quickly punched up the audio channel to the ship’s cockpit. “How we doing?”
“On route at cruising speed,” reported one of his crew, loud enough for Rednal to hear but not for his brunette plaything, “How are you doing, captain?”
“Pretty good,” he admitted, glancing back at the gorgeous sight of Deanna Troi lying naked and spreadeagle on his bunk, cradling her heaving breasts in the aftermath of multiple orgasms. “Time to arrival?”
“We’ll be reached Dekiw-2 in six hours.”
Rednal thought this over. “Slow us down to warp two.”
“Warp two? Captain, at that speed it will take us a week to get there!”
The Orion looked back at Deanna’s naked and panting form,
admiring the nude figure of
But the Orion was done for now. He turned the twenty-nine
year old around in his arms, making her lie with her back against his chest,
his big hands reaching around her slim body to cup bosom and fondle snatch.
Deanna moaned and wriggled, unconsciously snuggling deeper into the spooning
embrace.
+++++
Deanna shared the Orion’s quarters for the duration of the voyage. Rednal was her alarm clock, waking the counselor by taking hold of one soft tit and pulling her over, his big green fingers toying with nipples and nethers until the dark-eyed brunette was groaning in pleasure. Then he would spread her legs and slide his organ into her snatch, each time finding it deliciously tight despite having been thoroughly fucked by the man’s broad cock previously. Her Orion conditioning ensured her body restored itself quickly.
After a session in the morning Rednal would head for the ship’s bridge. Deanna accompanied him, completely naked as per their agreement. The counselor’s bare breasts bounced and her round ass wiggled as she almost had to run to keep up with the tall Orion’s long strides. The man’s crew would watch the spectacle of the Starfleet officer’s naked beauty with appreciation and envy, never tiring of the sight of Deanna Troi’s bare breasts bobbing with her haste to match pace with Rednal.
The ship’s bridge was little more than a cockpit and the Orion was more than able to fly the craft by himself. Typically Troi would sit on his lap, Rednal wrapping one large arm around her narrow waist with one hand cradling and squeezing her tits while the other tapped buttons on the console. The brunette rolled her eyes and endured the embarrassment and the pleasure. Once upon a time Deanna Troi had sat on the bridge of the Enterprise, clad in a commander’s uniform, respected and valued for her input. Now she sat on an Orion’s lap, completely naked, a plaything to be fondled and fucked.
Meals were usually eaten at stations during work shifts. Rednal had fun spoon-feeding Deanna, watching the lovely
Betazoid’s plump lips open as she accepted whatever morsel he was offering,
breasts jiggling as she leaned forward. Usually after lunch he would set the
ship on autopilot, disengage the control console and lift the Betazoid onto him
so that she straddled his hips. Sometimes he would make her ride his cock, tits
bouncing before his face. Sometimes the Orion was content with a tit-sucking
session, making Deanna arch her back and moan as her melons were kissed and
bitten and sucked, red marks making on her pale titflesh ache. Other times Troi
would kneel between his legs, her head bobbing as she ran her plump lips up and
down the length of the Orion’s meat as she kissed and sucked his cock. Rednal was getting more than his money’s worth from the
beautiful Deanna Troi.
The naked counselor followed Rednal on his inspections of the ship’s systems, acutely self-conscious of her bare body as his crew took their time admiring her soft luscious curves. Deanna Troi was the only woman aboard and was a gorgeous specimen as well. Crewmen frequently found opportunities to grab a grope of her breasts or a slap on her bottom, which the busty brunette endured with a weak smile and a few quick steps to catch up with Rednal. While the crew would eagerly fondle her when they had the chance, they were less likely to if the Orion captain was watching. But by the week’s end each and every man onboard had enjoyed the fullness of Troi’s tits and the roundness of her ass with a few stolen gropes, and more than a few had been able to steal a quick stroke of her smooth bald pussy as well.
The twenty-nine year old found herself appreciating the anonymity of her false identity. To these lowly men she was just the Captain’s whore, rather than Commander Deanna Troi: Captain’s whore. She would have dreaded them knowing that the beautiful woman walking naked among them, Rednal’s plaything, was actually a renown Starfleet officer and the daughter of the Betazoid ambassador. This way she would be nothing but a pleasant memory to them in a week’s time, an anonymous pair of tits that they had enjoyed ogling for a few days.
Nights were spent, of course, in the Orion’s quarters. As a lover Rednal had simple tastes, content to play with Deanna’s generous curves a bit before settling into lengthy fucking sessions. The Orion’s great stamina inevitably meant that by the time he was through the well-conditioned counselor was panting for air and quivering from the overwhelming sensation of repeated orgasms. She would fall asleep in Rednal’s arms, the Orion’s big green hands on her breasts and against her snatch, the five foot three brunette firmly held in the slumbering giant’s embrace. The next morning they would begin again.
The Starfleet officer endured this and all the other indignities knowing that with each passing hour she drew closer to B’Elanna and T’Pol. In her heart Deanna Troi knew that she would have willingly whored herself to Rednal’s entire crew, spreading her thighs for each and every man aboard, for the sake of her friends.
+++++
On the final day of the voyage Deanna Troi awoke in Rednal’s bed with a brief yelp of shock. The sound of something thumping softly onto the mattress beside her had startled the counselor out of her sleep. She sat upright, bedsheets falling around her wide hips and revealing her milky breasts.
“You’ll need these,” Rednal said briskly, depositing cold-weather clothing on the bed beside where the Betazoid sat, her palms firmly clamped over her bare breasts and making her ample titflesh press together in an eye-opening cleavage. “Dekiw-2 is a cold planet.”
She looked at the offered equipment with surprise in her beautiful dark eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Free of charge,” the Orion added.
“Thank you,” she repeated. Self-consciously she lowered her hands, leaving her naked body uncovered as she climbed out of the Orion’s bed. “We’re not far from Dekiw-2?”
The green-skinned giant shook his head. “Close. Try them on, please.”
Deanna drew in a tit-lifting breath. Then she dove at the clothing. With quick movements she pulled on the heavy trousers, her tits jiggling as she leaned forward to yank them up her long legs. Rednal helped her with the jacket, grunting in disapproval when the garment only barely closed around Troi’s generous breasts. “They’re too small. It’s the only set I could scrounge off the crew that was close to your size.”
Deanna looked down at her chest, where her lovely cleavage bulged up out of the low neckline created by her too-small jacket. “It’ll do,” she said.
“No
Deanna’s bare feet touched the boots that rested beside the bed, also intended for her. For the first time in a week the Starfleet officer was fully clothed. Rednal was the reason that she had been parading naked around his ship before his lusty-eyed crew, and the lovely brunette knew it, yet she felt something like gratitude for this small generosity. “Thanks,” she said in a small voice.
“I’ll be leaving a probe in orbit,” the Orion explained, gesturing to a communicator clipped to the busty brunette’s belt. “If you need a ride out when your business on Dekiw-2 is done, you’ll be able to signal me. And there’s that,” he said, pointing to a pouch at Troi’s other hip.
She picked at the pouch’s lip and looked inside. With wide eyes Deanna looked up at the enormous Orion. “This is my passenger’s fee.”
Rednal shrugged his big shoulders
and smiled at the relatively tiny Betazoid. “You’ve paid your fare many times
over,
Deanna felt touched by the Orion’s generosity, as small and as late as it was. Every part of her that was a Federation citizen, an ambassador’s daughter and a Starfleet officer knew that she should be outraged by the way she had been displayed naked before Rednal’s crew and used as his plaything in bed, but despite herself she felt a surge of warmth towards the giant green man.
“I might need him later on,” the counselor thought. Then her beautiful dark eyes moved up and down the Orion’s powerful body. “What the hell.”
So Deanna Troi lifted her face upwards, reached up to turn Rednal towards her, and she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him. The Orion returned the kiss, his lips meeting hers and his hands sliding around her body. Suddenly the thick fur jacket was entirely too much to be wearing. Deanna’s hands pressed through Rednal’s clothing, grabbing at his powerfully muscled torso. His arms wrapped around her slim waist, drawing the relatively tiny woman close towards him.
Then Troi disengaged from the kiss, stepping back with a slightly shy look on her imperiously beautiful features. Then the counselor undid her belt, allowing her trousers to fall around her ankles. Her ass and bald pussy revealed, she stepped out of the fallen garment and forwards into Rednal’s arms.
Deanna’s jacket came off next, pushed back off her shoulders and her bare breasts pressing against the Orion’s chest as they locked lips again. Troi lifted one long leg to hook it around his waist. His trousers unbuckled and dropped and the Betazoid moaned as she felt the hard hotness of his organ touch her inner thighs. His hands cupped her bare buttocks and he lifted her up. Deanna’s arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders and she shut her eyes in delicious anticipation.
The head of Rednal’s tool nuzzled against the lips of Troi’s vagina. Slowly he lowered her onto his dick, the broad mass of Orion cockmeat filling the counselor’s passage and making her groan in pleasure.
Now wearing nothing but her scarf, Deanna allowed herself to be lifted and lowered up and down the length of Rednal’s penis. Every ridge that stretched her nether lips made her shiver in ecstasy, arching her back and presenting her bare breasts to him. He responded by tipping his head forward to suck and bite at her melons, never slowing the steady rhythm of her penetration.
“More,” Deanna moaned, and the Orion obeyed. He turned around and fell backwards onto the bed, allowing the brunette to ride him. She straddled atop the giant man with his enormous cock firmly anchoring her in place. Her hands pressing against her chest and her dark eyes rolling, Troi lifted herself up eight inches of Orion penis and then slid back down with a shuddering moan.
Deanna leaned forward heavily, dark hair falling across one side of her face. She knew that this was far from conduct befitting a Starfleet officer and she didn’t care. The pleasure coursing through her perfectly conditioned body and the ecstasy she was sensing from her Orion lover blotted out everything else. She tensed her thighs, lifting her ass and sliding up six inches of cock before pushing her nethers firmly back down, sighing with satisfaction as she was filled.
Rednal gripped Troi’s wide hips and pumped upwards vigorously, a rapid series of thrusts that made the brunette yelp in rhythm, her tits bouncing before his face. He kept up his pumping, watching the counselor’s voluptuous figure quiver and writhe. She arched her spine, leaning back with her trembling boobs pointed towards the ceiling as the Orion continued to pump into her. She cummed with a wail, reaching her first orgasm of the session.
It wasn’t going to be the last. Rednal pulled Deanna
back down to him so that her bare breasts were flattened against his chest. He
rolled over so that the brunette Betazoid lay beneath him, her legs spread and
her dark eyes wide with anticipation. “Do it,” she breathed, and then shut her
eyes in the extremes of ecstasy as the Orion giant eagerly pumped his cock into
her oh-so-sensitive kitty.
+++++
The cloud of transporter energy dissipated to reveal counselor Deanna Troi, her curvaceous figure clad in cold weather clothing. Her booted feet sank slightly in the white snow as she appeared on the surface of Dekiw-2. Chill wind whipped around her curvy body. The Betazoid immediately tightened her scarf, pushing it deeper into her cleavage to better protect her breasts from the icy air. “I hate ice planets,” she commented to herself, her breath steaming in front of her face.
In addition to her trousers, jacket and scarf, the counselor had been provided with boots, mittens and a fur-lined hat with flaps she now pulled down around her cheeks. The dark-eyed beauty looked rather cute in her new gear, and the thick fur of her garments could not hide the voluptuous curves of her full-figured body. “Okay,” she said, reaching into her cleavage and retrieving her tricorder where it had been very snuggly stored, “Time to find the trail.”
Dekiw-2 was a mostly uninhabitable planet. Years earlier the
Federation had built a relay station on the surface complete with supplies, a
communication system and an emergency shelter. Troi doubted that this was
B’Elanna and T’Pol’s last stop but these old sensory
stations were built to last. The facility could have observed and recorded the
movement of the ship that had carried her companions here. “It might remember
where they were taken, or at least give me a trajectory to follow,” the
counselor thought, leaning forward into the wind, her pants tightening around
the cheeks of her round ass as she lifted her boots above the snow and trekked
onward.
The cold wind grabbed at her clothing, seeking out the loose flaps of her jacket and the gaps between her clothing, kissing any bare skin it could find. Deanna shivered despite her heavy garments and picked up the pace, feeling her breasts shift uncomfortably inside her too-tight jacket as she moved. Thankfully she wouldn’t have far to go. Rednal’s transporter had dropped her off only a short distance from the old depot.
A sensory tower thrust up out of the snow, slim and black against the whiteness around it. But Deanna’s destination was a few hundred beyond. The station’s habitable areas were subterranean, carved out of the interior of a mountain. A broad metal cargo door had been built flush against the ice-covered stone. Higher in the rock face were atmospheric vents that emitted clouds of warm vapor that melted the ice around them. It was a promising sign, indicating the old relay station was still operational.
Staggering through the wind Deanna reached the entrance and groped along the metal, eventually finding the control console by touch. Choked with ice, it took a few good solid thumps before any of the buttons would move.
The entrance slowly ground open, the barrier rising to reveal blackness beyond. A gust of warm air escaped the gap, washing over the chilled and shivering Troi. She eagerly ducked beneath the barrier and moved inside, finding the interior controls and closing the door behind her, sealing the heat in.
“The station definitely still has power,” Deanna said, her dark eyes trying to make out details in the unlit room she now found herself in. “If I’m lucky, the sensors will still be…”
“Subject detected,” a cold synthetic voice announced. “Stage one initiated.”
A spotlight fell from the ceiling, illuminating the counselor’s fur-clad body. She squinted, looking upwards and shielding her face. Then Troi felt a tingle around her neck and down her chest and heard the faint whine of a micro-transporter. When she looked down she gasped: her scarf was gone, transported off her body! The Enterprise’s counselor found her cleavage now uncovered, two mounds of titflesh squeezed together in her too-tight jacket and bulging upwards, threatening to escape her clothing.
There was another whining sound and light gathered around her lower body. Just as quickly Deanna found herself divested of her trousers! Her round womanly ass was bare and her lovely hairless pussy was exposed. “Someone is stripping me naked!” she gasped.
Next to disappear was her equipment, stealing away her tricorder, weapon, communicator and the belt that held her jacket shut. The garment swung open, forced to part by the generous proportions of the Betazoid’s breasts. Her dark nipples, contracted to hard points in the cold, peeked out from inside her jacket. She grabbed the sides of her jacket and pulled them shut in front of her boobs only to find the jacket transported off her body!
With an undignified yelp of embarrassment Deanna Troi found herself wearing only her boots, mittens and her winter hat. Her pale-skinned figure was exposed in all of its curvaceous glory, her only modesty her mitten-clad hands pressed over her boobs.
With a yelp Deanna was denied her boots, finding herself barefoot, and then her gloves so that her bare fingers were curling around her soft breasts in a vain effort to cover herself. All she wore now was her fur-lined hat with its flaps cutely pulled down over her cheeks, and it offered her no dignity at all. Even that last shred of modesty was transported away and Deanna Troi was left completely naked, her fantastic figure illuminated by the spotlight above her. “Who are you?” the nude Starfleet officer called out, her voice carrying a helpless trembling note. “Why are you doing this?”
Another light snapped on behind her. Deanna turned to face it, one hand lifted
to shield her face, and then she squealed as a jet of sticky gel splattered
against her bare breasts. “Oh god what is this?” she shrieked as streams of goo were fired at her from multiple angles, coating her
naked figure with ickyness. She staggered, trying to
get out of the path of the jets but they unerringly tracked the movement of the
lovely counselor, expertly targeting her tits, ass and pussy to bombard her
with goo.
A synthesized voice emerged from a speaker system. “Second stage decontamination begun. Please lather.”
“Lather?” objected Deanna as the counselor was humiliatingly coated with the sticky goo. She realized from the smell that it was some kind of disinfectant soap. “I’ve walked into a decontamination room!” Shutting her eyes against the jets of goo layering her curvy naked figure, Troi began to rub at her skin with her hands. Quickly the lovely brunette developed a soapy layer that nearly, but not quite, covered her nakedness. Her hands traveled up and down her hips and thighs, across her flat belly and around the globes of her breasts. She lifted her hands to soap her hair, the Betazoid’s tits shaking with her vigorous scrubbing.
“Third stage decontamination initiated.” That was Deanna’s only warning before jets of icy cold water sprayed her from all directions. With a squeal of protest Troi clutched at her pussy and tits, covering her most sensitive parts as she was hosed down by the automated system. A jet of well-aimed water hit her between the butt cheeks, making the counselor hop up on the tips of her toes, her hands leaving her tits to cover her ass. Then a trio of streams stuck her breasts and hairless snatch, making the Starfleet officer yelp in distress, her hands trying to cover everything at once and failing.
Deanna Troi put on a sexy show as she wriggled and turned and grabbed at her lovely curves. The soapy discharge she had lathered up was quickly washed away, leaving the commander naked and clean, her bare skin shining with moisture. The streams of water slowed to a trickle and then halted, and a thoroughly soaked and very annoyed Deanna Troi straightened up, her hands cradling her shivering boobs. “For an automated system you’re very rude!” she declared.
“Fourth stage decontamination initiated.” Small apertures in the floor began to expel jets of warm air. They rose all around the counselor, who found herself welcoming the hot streams. Her hands left her breasts uncovered as she lifted her arms, letting the air touch every part of her. After the freezing cold outside and the almost equally cold hosing, the air-drying was a welcome experience. Deanna leaned forward to position her face in one of the warm streams and ran her fingers through her hair as her dark locks were blown upwards, her dangling breasts swaying beneath her.
“Decontamination completed,” announced the computerized
voice. The air jets ceased and an entrance behind Deanna, previously unseen by
the counselor, slid open. Troi peered at the brightly lit portal, her dark eyes
narrowed and one hand lifted to shade her face as she cautiously approached the
opening. Biting her lip with trepidation the
What she saw made her eyes go wide and her mouth gape. “B’Elanna? T’Pol?”
TO BE CONTINUED
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