STAR TREK: BROKEN BODICE
A parody by Micky Budarrap
Disclaimer: Star Trek, its characters, locations and plots are not my creations and are used without permission. No profit has been or will be made by their use in this story.
“Broke Bodice” is not intended for consumption by minors. If you are below the adult age in your country, state or county then read no further and delete this file from your computer. By reading this disclaimer you agree to take full responsibility for continuing.
The author does not encourage or condone the enormously disrespectful and frequently criminal things that are done to women in this story. The activities performed in this fictional work should never be inflicted on people in the real world.
This is a work of fiction that features rampant exploitation
of women in parody of the depictions of species and societies in Star Trek.
Where the TV shows and films only suggest for cheap titillation value, “Broken
Bodice” takes it to its sleazy conclusions. The story focuses on the perils and
misadventures of Deanna Troi (Star Trek: The Next
Generation), T’Pol (Star Trek:
Feedback can be directed to Mickt80@hotmail.com.
EPISODE 05: FAVOR THE BUSTY
T’Pol, B’Elanna Torres and Deanna Troi were a mouthwatering sight as they walked three abreast down the corridor.
Each woman was a beauty in her own right. The Vulcan T’Pol was lean with long legs and a trim waist yet with round juicy breasts that contrasted her slimness. The half-Klingon B’Elanna was athletic with firm thighs, a taut ass and flat belly, yet also enjoyed a pair of soft melons on her chest. Deanna Troi, a half-Betazoid, had a figure that was all rich curving hips, round bottom and generous boobs.
Women on Ferenginar were not permitted clothing outdoors, particularly not these fine specimens. The three Starfleet officers had just come from the Auction Dome of Ferenginar where their gorgeous naked bodies had been displayed and bidded for. Each of the dark-eyed brunettes was stark naked except for the words “FOR SALE” printed on their bare breasts and “SOLD” stamped on each delicious ass.
Each walked with an unconsciously sexy gait. Orion conditioning had trained their muscles to assume a hip-swinging, tit-jiggling step that made their lush bodies all the more enticing. With gravity shackles on their wrists holding their hands behind their backs each woman walked with her shoulders back and her boobs thrust forward.
Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol had together sold for over a thousand bars of gold pressed latinum. As they walked wearing nothing but their shackles towards the transporter room it was easy to see why.
Following behind them were three hulking guards: a Gorn, an Orion and a Nausican, each close to seven feet tall and assigned to ensure the busty trio reached their destination. Occasionally one would give a woman’s ass a shove to keep her in line, making her tits bounce, but it wasn’t necessary as much as it was fun.
There was a waiting room outside the transit area, where those with bookings to use the transporter pad would wait for their scheduled time. The room was empty except for the triumphantly grinning Ferengi that had just sold the three heroines.
“Ladies, you’re just in time!” Golga said, rubbing his hands at the sight of the three stark naked Starfleet officers as they were marched in. He nodded to his guards. “Give me some privacy. I’d like a little heart-to-heart with our girls before we go.” The three goons departed, leaving the Ferengi alone with the nude Starfleet officers.
“Well,” Deanna said in a low and angry voice, “You got what you wanted hey!” All three heroines were suddenly standing with their hands above their heads, their gravshack bracelets repelling the ground and forcing the three brunettes to stand on tip-toe. Using a small remote control their Ferengi master had adjusted their gravity shackles to better display the three bare-bodied brunettes.
Walking slowly around the trio Golga savored the sight of their naked figures, his eyes lingering on the signs on their breasts and bottoms. “You know, I don’t know what’s better. Three hot whores with FOR SALE on your tits, ready for purchase, or three sexy sluts with SOLD on your asses, already on your way.”
“You’re a disgusting evil pig!” accused B’Elanna.
“Don’t hate me because I’m Ferengi,” Golga said innocently, walking behind the sexy lineup and giving T’Pol a familiar pat on the bottom as he passed her. “I’ve given you the traditional Ferenginar treatment all women should get. I’ve provided you with training and conditioning.” He paused as he reached B’Elanna Torres, taking his time as he fondled the twenty-two year old’s firm ass. “I’ve given you new and lucrative career paths.”
“Your cruel and illogical repression of one half of your gender is to your species’ detriment,” T’Pol said, the science officer having regained some of her typical poise and elegance despite her nudity.
“And you three have helped drive the engines of our economy,” Golga replied. He halted in front of the voluptuous Deanna Troi, taking both of her breasts in his hands and lifting them so that he could eye the words “FOR SALE” printed across her globes. “You know, counselor, I always wondered what it would be like to hold six hundred bars of gold pressed latinum.” His fingers gently squeezed her melons. “Now I know.”
“You sicken me!” Troi said fiercely to the Ferengi presently lifting her tits.
Golga shrugged and let go of the five-foot-three woman’s breasts, watching as they bounced back into delicious orbs. “And your opinion means so much to me, counselor.” He walked back along the line, reaching out to gently slap boobs as he went, leaving each gorgeous pair jiggling in his wake. “I milked the last drop of latinum I could out of you three big-titted bitches, and now I can afford to ride a transporter instead of a shaky shuttle. Thanks to you.”
Then Golga tapped a button on the gravshack controls. Immediately each woman’s bracelets were pulled to the deck, still locked behind them so that the three Starfleet officers had to awkwardly kneel. The posture was uncomfortable with each woman forced to spread her thighs wide and lean back, her tits quivering on her chest. Their pussies, each perfectly hairless thanks to their sex-slave conditioning, were completely exposed in this awkward posture.
“B’Elanna,” the Ferengi said, looking down at the sullen and nude Klingon woman kneeling before him, savoring the sight of her toned and tanned body completely exposed for his enjoyment, “I’m genuinely sorry that it had to end this way with the Cardassians getting you. An ass like yours should be working in a classy brothel. Instead you’ll probably be servicing Cardassian officers for the next few years.” He reached down and flicked the Lieutenant’s erect nipples before moving on to Deanna.
“Counselor,” he said fondly as he looked down at the curvaceous Betazoid as she knelt with her thighs parted and her boobs trembling on her chest, “It looks like you’ve drawn the attention of our Reman friend Rak. I’ve never seen him interested in the women of other species so you must have done something very special to get his attention. Write me a letter about it, will you?” With a grin and a playful slap of Troi’s bare breasts he stepped on to the last of the trio.
“T’Pol, Mother of the Federation, the First Modern Vulcan.” He grinned at her, admiring the view of her generous melons, so plump and round as the words “FOR SALE” rose on their slopes with her breathing. “That woman that bought you, Papilia? Judging by what that freaky bitch did to your tits when she was looking you three over, you’re in for a wild time. But one question, Miss High-and-Mighty science officer: do you know anything about Earth farm animals?”
The Vulcan lifted her chin in a regal fashion that contrasted her state, nude and forced to kneel with her slim thighs spread. “Not in particular.”
“Well there’s one you should get familiar with, considering what Papilia will probably do to you. Here’s a hint.” He reached down and squeezed one of T’Pol’s breasts. “Moo.” Letting the Vulcan’s melon drop and bounce Golga laughed and stepped back. “We could be looking at the galaxy’s first dairy Vulcan. At least you have the udders for it. Alright boys!” he said in a louder voice.
The entrance opened to reveal Golga’s three pet thugs looming in the doorway. They grinned at the sight of the three bare-bodied Starfleet officers kneeling in such an awkward posture, leaning back with their thighs humiliatingly spread. “They’re calling your number on the transssporter, bossss,” hissed the reptilian Gorn.
“Good,” the Ferengi said. “You boys fly the shuttle back to Golga’s Pride. It may be a shaky little bug but it’s mine and I’m not leaving it here. Parking fees would suck my wallet dry anyway.” Golga tapped the gravshack controls, easing the gravity-weight of the shackles and allowing the three heroines to rise. He watched with satisfaction as they awkwardly leaned forwards to get their feet under themselves, T’Pol unknowingly flaunting her firm ass while Deanna and B’Elanna showed their dangling tits to him.
“Well ladies, we’re in the home stretch.”
+++++
Golga threw a silver keyring across the console. There were two Ferengi manning the transporter station, both wearing the uniform of the Consortium Transporter Monopoly. One of them caught the shiny bundle of keys in mid-flight. “Is this for their shackles?”
“Three keys for three buyers,” Golga confirmed. “Just don’t give them to the girls.” He leaned forward and whispered in mock-secretive fashion. “I don’t think we can trust these Starfleet types.”
The two Ferengi transporter operators nodded, leering at the sight of the three shackled and helpless beauties. B’Elanna, T’Pol and Deanna all felt the men’s eyes on their bare breasts, the “FOR SALE” signs printed on their melons drawing particular attention. The three heroines stood with their wrists grav-locked together behind their backs, forcing them to thrust their uncovered chests forward, their heads bowed with humiliation.
B’Elanna shifted her wrists slightly, testing the gravity link that held her bracelets together. “Deanna?” she thought, trying to make the Betazoid’s name as clear as possible in her mind. “Deanna, can you hear me?”
“Deanna, when Golga and his men beam out I need you to slow down those Ferengi at the transporter,” Torres thought. “Can you tell T’Pol what to do?”
Without speaking Deanna turned her imperiously beautiful face towards the long-limbed, heavy-chested Vulcan. T’Pol cocked her head suddenly, receiving the Betazoid’s mental message. Then Troi’s dark eyes returned to Torres. “We’re ready,” came the empath’s thought.
B’Elanna drew in a breath, her bare breasts rising as she prepared for what was about to happen. They had made several escape attempts and so far each had ended in humiliating failure. This would be the last chance they had before they were split up, each woman condemned to her fate as a slave.
Golga stepped onto the transporter pad. The Ferengi looked down at the three women he had just auctioned. B’Elanna, T’Pol and Deanna stood facing away from him, unwittingly treating their former owner to an inviting view of their bottoms, three round rumps with “SOLD” printed across their buttocks.
“Ladies?” Golga said. The three heroines turned, looking daggers in his direction. Now the Ferengi enjoyed the view of Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol from the front, drinking in the sight of their long legs, curving hips, bald pussies and generous tits all inked with the words “FOR SALE”.
The Ferengi nodded approvingly of the sight. “Yes, you three look great from the rear but even better from the front.” He chuckled as the three officers turned away in shame and anger at his cruel joke. “Alright, send me up.” Orange light covered Golga as the Ferengi was transported up to his waiting ship.
That was when the trio sprang into action. Deanna and T’Pol charged the console, the voluptuous Betazoid running around the station with tit-jiggling strides to dive head-first against one of the Ferengi manning the station while the Vulcan leapt clean over the low-set console with one long leg lifting. T’Pol’s knee struck the other Ferengi in the face and knocked him out cold.
Meanwhile B’Elanna dropped to the deck, rolling onto her back and curling her athletic legs so that her pussy lips poked out between her firm thighs. Wriggling her ass the Klingon was able to work her cuffed wrists around her firm backside and out from beneath her legs. When Torres rolled to her feet her hands were shackled in front of her body instead of behind her back.
The second Ferengi operator shoved Deanna’s curvaceous figure off him and rolled away, narrowly avoiding a sharp kick from one of T’Pol’s long legs. He quickly scrambled under the transporter console, pulling a phaser from his hip. But when he tried to stand up on the other side of the control station B’Elanna was ready for him. Voyager’s chief engineer caught his weapon in her shackled hands, shoving it aside as she swung an athletic leg and drove her knee against the Ferengi’s too-large head. He dropped like a wet sack, knocked unconscious.
Torres knelt down, her brown nips jiggling on her tits as she searched the Ferengi’s pockets. “I found the keys!” she exclaimed, holding up the shiny keyring. Quickly she undid her own gravshacks and then those of her companions. As the silver bracelets clattered to the deck the three Starfleet officers breathed a collective tit-heaving sigh of relief. For the first time in a week they were free of their shackles.
B’Elanna and Troi gathered up the Ferengi’s phaser pistols. “What are you doing?” Torres demanded of T’Pol, who was kneeling over one of the unconscious Ferengi and undoing his jacket, her bare breasts dangling above the alien’s face.
“I would prefer to be clothed while escaping,” the Vulcan answered.
“We don’t have time! We’ve got to beam out of here before they realize what we’ve done!”
The three nude Starfleet officers leaned over the console. The controls were designed for short Ferengi so the women had to lean deeply, unwittingly showing off their bottoms and making their pussy lips peek out from between their thighs. Meanwhile their boobs dangled slightly, creating delicious reflections in the console’s shiny surface.
“I can read enough Ferengi to get this to work,” B’Elanna said. Then the Klingon hit the console hard with her palms, making her boobs dance. “Damn it! They’ve got code-controlled lockouts.” She looked up with desperate dark eyes. “We can’t enter transporter co-ordinates!”
A voice came from a speaker built into the station. “This is Rak,” came the Reman’s deep and threatening voice. “I’m ready to receive my Betazoid.”
“We’ve got to do something!” Troi clutched her phaser pistol, folding her arms nervously in front of her bare breasts. “Can we bypass the code system?”
B’Elanna ducked down and pulled a panel off the underbelly of the console. “Maybe, if I can make sense of how these twisted little freaks build their transporters.”
Moving her eyes from screen to screen as she leaned over the console, her boobs swaying deliciously with each shift, T’Pol made a suggestion. “Rather than enter new transporter co-ordinates could we use an existing set?”
Deanna stared at the Vulcan in disbelief. “You mean follow Golga? Beam back to his ship?”
T’Pol’s eyes ran down Deanna’s bare breasts to the phaser she was clutching. “We are armed,” the Vulcan said pointedly, “And he will not be expecting us.” Troi’s eyes took on a new and determined look as she realized what the other woman meant.
Rak’s voice emerged from the
console again. “Transporter control, I’m waiting for my Betazoid and I do not enjoy waiting. Confirm
reception of transmission.”
Torres stood up and leaned over the console again, her hanging udders jiggling as she stabbed at buttons. “I think we can do it. I’m telling the transporter that the last beam out was a failure and it’ll have to re-initialize. Maybe it won’t need a fresh code input.” She watched the displays closely for a second and then her dark eyes lit up. “We’re in business! Get on the transporter!”
+++++
There was a Gorn, a Cardassian and a human in the transporter room onboard Golga’s mercenary ship. They received a pleasant surprise when the transporter pad glowed orange and suddenly Deanna Troi, T’Pol and B’Elanna Torres were standing before them, stark naked except for the words “FOR SALE” printed on their tits and “SOLD” on their asses. The men grinned in disbelief at the delicious sight of the three naked beauties, stunned briefly by the sight of those round breasts, narrow waists, curving hips and the smooth hairless perfection of their bald pussies.
The phasers that Torres and Troi carried were a less pleasant surprise, and even more stunning. The Cardassian and the human were struck by bright red beams and fell unconscious to the deck. But when the Ferengi phasers were turned on the hulking Gorn they proved all fizzle and no sizzle. The armored reptilian roared in rage and lust and charged at the trio, knocking the Betazoid and the Klingon to the ground in a tumble of long legs and bouncing breasts.
His toothy mouth opening in anticipation the Gorn grabbed T’Pol by her generous tits and lifted her into the air. The Vulcan cried out in distress and pleasure as her ripe melons were so cruelly stressed, her brown nipples pointing towards the Gorn’s toothy mouth. Her knees bent and she arched her back, her Vulcan self-control shattered as she wailed at the sensation of being lifted by her boobs.
But despite not carrying a phaser she had one final weapon. T’Pol reached out and planted one hand on the Gorn’s collar in the age-old technique of the Vulcan nerve pinch. The monster’s growl grew quiet and his fingers around her boobs slackened. The Gorn toppled over unconscious and T’Pol groaned in relief, cradling her aching tits.
The three women scavenged what weapons they could from the unconscious men and now all three were armed. “It looks like Golga has already headed on,” said Torres, the twenty-two year old Lieutenant unwittingly assuming a sexy pose as she hefted two phaser pistols, one on either side of her bare breasts. “We need a plan.”
“Starheart,” Deanna said immediately. “It was trying to make some kind of mental contact with us. We should head for the shuttlebay.”
“And if Starheart cannot fly, we can use one of Golga’s shuttles,” added T’Pol. “But Golga will certainly try to recapture us with this very vessel. A shuttle will be no match for a ship of this size.”
“Then we cripple this bucket,” B’Elanna said decisively. “If we hit some of the coolant lines to engineering we can shut down the core and stop Golga from chasing us, at least long enough for us to get away! T’Pol, how’s that Vulcan memory of yours?”
T’Pol straightened, the words “FOR
She was halted by Deanna Troi’s hand on her left boob, pulling her back by the most convenient handhold. “Wait!” the counselor hissed. She stared at the door, her dark eyes distant. “Wait a minute… alright, they’ve gone. There was a group of men out there.”
“You can let go of me now,” T’Pol said pointedly.
“Sorry.” Deanna relinquished her hold on the Vulcan’s soft melon. “My empathy is so sharp now I can feel them. The corridor is clear now.”
B’Elanna grinned at the gorgeous Betazoid. “And I thought ship’s counselors were all useless. Alright, let’s go!”
+++++
Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol charged into the engine room with phasers blazing. The three nude women fought at a run, tits bouncing and asses wiggling as they advanced through the chamber stunning every crewman they could see. The fight was short as Golga’s hired crew had lax security at best and poor internal sensor systems. The three sexy Starfleet officers won the day easily, the “FOR SALE” signs on their breasts heaving as they breathed heavily from the short but furious fight.
Torres fired her two pistols into a heavy piece of machinery on the engineering deck. Geysers of white gas shot upward from the breaches she had blasted open. “That’s it, let’s keep moving!” the Klingon said, her melons already leaping on her chest as she ran onwards, “It won’t be long before they realize something’s happening!”
The three heroines ran to the next corridor. A pair of crewmen walking in the opposite direction were treated to the sight of B’Elanna Torres, Deanna Troi and T’Pol running stark naked towards them, the words “FOR SALE” bouncing on their chests, but only for a few seconds before they were stunned by phaser fire. The three heroines raced on, “SOLD” wiggling on their rumps as they ran.
They entered the shuttlebay and found it deserted. T’Pol narrowed her eyes and pointed. “There is Starheart.”
None of them had ever seen the experimental ship fully constructed, except when they had glimpsed it half-buried in the sand of the planet it had crashed on. But there was no mistaking the ship that was the nude trio’s escape route. Starheart was a Federation design with a clean silver hull and a forward-mounted deflector dish, larger and sleeker than the blocky Ferengi shuttles scattered across the hanger. Its body was semi-circular with compact warp nacelles attached to its tips, like a crescent moon but stretched back at the wingtips.
The last time they had seen the ship the three heroines had used the hanger door built into its aft. Presently the nude brunettes were on the wrong side of the ship to see that entrance, but they could see a hatch installed at deck level for easy embarking. “But is it working?” B’Elanna said, dark eyes flicking around the shuttlebay in case anyone else turned up.
“We’ll have to chance it. Let’s go!” ordered Deanna and the
three women ran forwards, long legs pumping and bare breasts bouncing. They
quickly crossed the shuttlebay, heading straight for Starheart.
Then they were unexpectedly knocked down by three torrential jets of water. Heavy streams of icy white slammed into their naked bodies and sent the three heroines tumbling to the deck, phasers clattering away from them. While two of the jets pummeled the gasping and suddenly freezing women the third torrent moved to their fallen weapons, washing them far away across the deck. Each officer tried to rise only to catch a blast of high-pressure hose water in the breasts or bottom, driving her to the floor again.
“Enough,” growled a giant Nausican, and Golga’s three giant bodyguards closed off the valves of their hoses. The high-pressure water system was normally used to clean shuttles but it had been very effective in grounding Deanna, B’Elanna and T’Pol. The enormously built alien trio stood victorious over the three naked Starfleet officers, having hosed them to the deck.
Disorientated and suddenly shivering from the cold the three
nude heroines struggled to get to their feet but they were too slow. B’Elanna
was grabbed by an ankle and hoisted upside-down, helplessly swinging her fists
at the Nausican lifting her even as her boobs dangled
towards her face. T’Pol was lifted into the air by a
powerful green Orion arm around her waist, the Vulcan’s long legs kicking
uselessly. Deanna wailed as the Gorn gripped a handful of her dark hair and hoisted
her up. She grabbed his wrist to take as much of her weight off her tresses as
she could, but that left her unable to cover her voluptuous alabaster body,
wiggling sexily as she struggled with hips bucking and breasts shaking.
“We just brought the boss’s shuttle back from the surface,” the Orion leered, lifting his grip from around T’Pol’s trim waist to her generous bust so that he could squeeze one of her tits as he held her. “Didn’t think we would find you three here.”
The Gorn holding Deanna leered at her bare breasts and the words “FOR SALE” printed on them. “You’ve been a very naughty girl, Counsssselor.” He smacked her across one tit, making the Betazoid yelp with distress and pleasure. “Very, very naughty,” he added, slapping and backhanding her boobs left and right, making the counselor squirm in the air.
“No!” screamed B’Elanna, still hanging upside-down, “We were so close! We were right there!”
The Nausican holding her up by the ankle gave the Klingon woman a shake. “Keep quiet, I’m making a call.” He clicked his mandibles and held a communicator up to his mouthparts. “Golga, we’ve brought the shuttle back and we’re in the hanger. Guess who we’ve found trying to steal a ship?”
“Who?” came the Ferengi’s voice. “Wait, no, you don’t mean…”
The monstrous giant grinned evilly, gazing down and B’Elanna Torres’ naked body. “Looks like the ladies couldn’t get enough of our hospitality. They must have escaped, but we’ve got a good hold on them now. Listen.” The Nausican backhanded Voyager’s chief engineer hard on her ass and then held the communicator beside her face.
“Ow! You son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you!”
The commotion had drawn the attention of Golga’s crew. Men were entering the shuttlebay by the dozen, gathering on the upper walkways and around the edges of the landing area. Surprise turned into pleasure as they recognized the three nude women being manhandled by their Captain’s thugs. Whistles and catcalls could be heard as they voiced their appreciation and once more getting to see B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol stark naked.
“Trust Starfleet bitches to always try to mess things up for you,” Golga said over the comm, trying to hold in his laughter. “I’ll come down once I’ve contacted the buyers and explained the delay. I won’t be long.”
“Yes boss.” The Nausican nearly returned the communicator to his belt when the Ferengi spoke again.
“One more thing,” added the Ferengi captain. “Keep those girls entertained until I get there. I want them deeply entertained.”
“Yes boss.” The eagerness in the Nausican’s voice was easy to hear.
The three heroines didn’t have the time to object or even look shocked. The Gorn holding Deanna pushed her down to her knees, her bare breasts jiggling with the speed of her descent. The giant bodyguard reached beneath its loincloth and dragged its organ out into view.
Deanna Troi’s beautiful dark eyes widened as she came face to face with the broad, ridged length of a Gorn cock. The reptilian twisted one hand in the brunnete’s hair, her mouth opening in a cry of distress, and pulled the Commander’s face forward.
The counselor of the USS Enteprise, the daughter of the Federation ambassador and one of the Federations’ most significant women in diplomacy, Deanna Troi was now on her knees, her voluptuous figure naked except for the words “FOR SALE” on her bare breasts and “SOLD” on her round ass. And now, in front of dozens of Golga’s cheering and laughing crew, she was forced to wrap her lips around a Gorn cock!
“Mmmmmph!” she objected as eloquently as she could manage, her dark eyes going crosseyed as her lips were invaded by dick. Her tits trembled as she struggled to pull herself off the monster’s meatstick but it was hopeless. Troi’s pale features flushed with humiliation as she unwillingly gave head.
Meanwhile Torres shrieked in protest as the Nausican gripped both of her ankles and spread her thighs wide. The beast’s mandibles opened and a broad tongue emerged, lowering towards her most sensitive place of all.
B’Elanna Torres, academy reject, Maquis rebel and the chief engineer of the USS Voyager, was now helplessly naked before Golga’s crew, every inch of her athletic figure on display as she hung upside down. Her firm body bucked and writhed, her struggles made the words “FOR SALE” dance on her dangling breasts and the “SOLD” sign on her firm rump wiggle. But her efforts did nothing to stop the humiliation. The Klingon looked up with horror, looking up between her dangling tits and flat stomach to her bald vagina, to watch the Nausican’s tongue lapping at her hairless pussy and caress her delicate nether lips.
The regal demeanor of the
T’Pol, famed for her efforts
during the missions of the NX class
Then T’Pol’s embarrassment doubled as the green-skinned thug shook her left and right, making her generous tits wiggle to the amusement of the men. Their cheers and clapping grew louder at the sight of her “FOR SALE” boobs dancing.
Deanna Troi bobbed up and down on
the Gorn’s meatsock, her
plump lips open as wide as possible to allow its girth into her mouth. Without
realizing it she was wanking
his shaft as she sucked and gazing upwards with dark adoring eyes. The Orion
conditioning she had received had programmed the Betazoid with muscle memory
techniques and now
B’Elanna was maneuvered about so that she was the right way
up, but only so that the Nausican could lick her bare
breasts. “Oh god!” the Klingon groaned as the monster’s rough tongue made her
left tit rise and drop, then her right. It scraped across her brown aureoles,
her teats quickly stiffening to points. Grinning at the sight of those erect
nipples the Nausican took one of the Lieutenant’s teats
into his mouth and sucked hard. “Aaaaaaahhhh!” Torres screamed as pleasure exploded in her nipple, her
boob stretching to a cone shape from the powerful suction. “Oh my geeeeeaaaahhhh!!” the Klingon squealed as the Nausican switched from one breast to the other. She writhed
and bucked, banging her fists uselessly on the monster’s burly shoulders. She
was so overwhelmed by the sensation of her tits being sucked that she didn’t
notice the giant unbuckle his trousers and, supporting Torres by her firm ass,
lower her towards its eleven inch cock. The tight lips of B’Elanna’s
snatch parted and stretched as the Nausican’s broad
tool wormed its way into her. At that point Torres did notice, her long legs kicking out to the sides and her mouth
opening in a disbelieving gasp.
The Orion holding T’Pol aloft slowly lowered her towards his crotch. Realizing what was happening the Vulcan kicked and struggled, her tits bouncing on her chest, but she couldn’t stop the inevitable. She felt the broad head of the Orion’s penis press against her pussy lips and she moaned, her conditioned body responding with joy. Slowly her tender folds were stretched wide and the Orion’s green tool slid deep up into her vagina, stuffing T’Pol’s cunt to capacity. She let out a deep throaty moan, then a groan as the giant lifted her by the arms, sliding her six inches up his shaft, and then dropped her back down so that its entire length was within her again. The deep pumping action made T’Pol’s breasts bounce vigorously on her chest.
Deanna was struggling against her conditioning, now trying to push the Gorn’s cock out of her mouth. Seeing her change of heart the beast freed his tool from her soft lips and then lifted the five-foot three Betazoid like a doll. He spun her around so that she was full frontal to the assembled crewmen, and then bent her over so that her generous melons dangled beneath her. Troi’s dark eyes went wide as she felt the beast’s broad member worm its way between the tight pussy folds. “Oh nooooooooo!!” Giant hips slammed against hers, the Gorn’s cock plunging deep inside the twenty-nine year old. Pleasure overwhelming her senses Deanna clutched at her tits, but her assailant would have nothing of it. It grabbed her arms and pulled them bock, forcing the Starfleet officer to bare her breasts and let them swing back and forth with the rhythm of their fucking.
The crowd cheered at the sight. “The Klingon too!” A chant began to pick up steam. “The Klingon too! The Klingon too!” The Nausican presently buried in B’Elanna Torres’ snatched looked up and realized what they wanted. Both T’Pol and Deanna were being fucked while face-first to the crew, their delicious bodies on full display. Dragging his lengthy meat from Torres’ tight snatch the Nausican turned the sexily wiggling Klingon around, holding her firmly by the arms, and slid his cock into her pussy from behind.
The men assembled in the hanger hooted and clapped. They were being treated to the spectacle of T’Pol, Deanna Troi and B’Elanna Torres each being thoroughly reamed in front of them! Each woman was forced to face the crowd, arms held back so that her tits could bounce freely with the rhythm of their violation. All three heroines began to gasp and yelp in time to the fucking, each arching her back as sheer pleasure overwhelmed their Orion-conditioned bodies. The three Starfleet officers helplessly writhed and bucked and squealed, their ecstasy taking over. They began to push their bottoms back against the hips thrusting against them, drawing those enormous cocks even deeper into their pussies. They writhed and gyrated, making the “FOR SALE” signs on their bouncing breasts an even more mouthwatering sight. Each woman lifted her voice in growing ecstasy as they approached inevitable orgasm.
B’Elanna Torres found her arms clasped together behind her back, the Nausican fucking her easily encompassing the Klingon’s wrists in one big hand. That left his other hand free to reach around and grab the twenty-two year old’s breasts, roughly pinching her soft melons together. Voyager’s chief engineer wailed in distress and pleasure as both of her supple boobs were squeezed together and then pulled upwards in a single giant hand, slowly and uncomfortably dragging Torres up by her tits! The incredible sensation made B’Elanna shriek as an orgasm ripped through her athletic body, the young woman cumming before Golga’s cheering crew.
Her vaginal walls clenched as she climaxed, milking the Nausican’s rod. The monster roared with pleasure and peaked, thrusting deep up into B’Elanna’s pussy. The twenty-two year old gasped, staring down at her bald pussy in despair as the Nausican ejaculated, firing an enormous load of sticky semen directly into her womb!
The Gorn plunging his cock into Deanna Troi pulled the lovely brunette upright, grabbing and squeezing her left tit so that her big brown nipple pointing upwards towards its hideous face. The counselor cried out and shook her head as the reptilian giant caught her lifted boob in his mouth and sucked hard, dragging her nipple deep into its mouth. She arched her back, trying to offer her chest upwards to ease the strain on her stretching breast, even as she stood on tip-toe with the Gorn’s cock filling her vaginal passage. It was then, as she wiggled and wailed in this awkward position, that Deanna Troi climaxed with her dark eyes wide and her lips parted in a howl of ecstasy.
As with Torres, the spasming
clenching walls of Troi’s cunt
were enough to finish off the man assaulting her. The Gorn grunted as he
peaked, firing spurt after spurt of goo into Deanna Troi’s womb. The
T’Pol gasped in relief as the enormous Orion tool in her tight pussy was dragged out of her. Holding her slender wrists in one giant hand the bodyguard kicked the back of the Vulcan’s legs, forcing her to kneel with her hands above her head, unable to cover her nakedness. Then, cruelly grabbing her by her short dark hair with his free hand, the Orion pushed his cock in between T’Pol’s plump pouting lips. She gagged, trying to turn away, and realized that this was what the green-skinned man wanted: he was turning her face, the head of his cock thrusting into her cheek as he let the crew see her humiliated expression. Her eyes widened, seeing the crew cheer at her embarrassment, and then the Orion ejaculated into T’Pol’s mouth.
She held her breath, refusing to swallow, but the broad green cock was not coming out of her mouth until she did. Her eyes rolling and then shutting in shame, T’Pol gulped down the Orion’s hot seed. The dick was pulled from her plump lips and she gasped and shuddered. Then she shrieked as the green-skinned giant grabbed the science officer by her bare breasts and pulled her up onto her feet. Her Orion-conditioned body exploded with pleasure as her tits were vigorously squeezed and stretched, that last sensation pushing her over-stimulated body over the edge. T’Pol screamed in mind-blowing pleasure, climaxing with her long legs shaking and failing beneath her, putting even more of her bodyweight on her squeezed-and-lifted tits!
The Klingon, the Betazoid and the Vulcan were still reeling from their orgasms when they heard Golga’s voice. “I don’t think everyone has gotten a good look at them, lads.”
Obeying their master, the Nausican, the Gorn and the Orion took hold of the stunned heroines at the ribs and, holding them from behind, hoisted the three naked women into the air.
B’Elanna Torres, Deanna Troi and T’Pol were displayed to Golga’s crew, their naked bodies shining with perspiration and their bare breasts heaving as they panted for air. Then the Orion holding the science officer aloft began to shake the Vulcan left and right, making T’Pol’s long legs jerk and her melons jiggle. The other two guards took a cue from the Orion, shaking Deanna and B’Elanna back and forth like rag dolls. The three Starfleet officers wiggled and thrashed helplessly in the hands of the giant trio, every bounce of their breasts and kick of their long legs making the crewmen crowding the hanger shout for more.
“Okay, let them down.” It was Golga’s voice, but none of the three women could see him in the crowd for their dizziness after being shaken around. They were set feet-down on the deck and their trembling legs failed immediately, Troi, Torres and T’Pol slipping onto their bare bottoms as the three bodyguards moved away from them. “Now,” the Ferengi Captain ordered, “Hose those bitches down.”
Once again jets of water blasted the three naked women. Gasping and trying to shield their faces and over-stimulated pussies from the jets T’Pol, Deanna and B’Elanna scrambled back until their backs were against Starheart’s hull.
“Stand up!” chanted the crowd, “Stand up! Stand up!” The three women slowly stood on shaky legs, ducking and flinching as they were hosed down, their breasts flattening and lifting as the jets eagerly sought out their most delicious spots. Each of them shrieked as a high-pressure stream struck her pussy, each woman dropping both hands to protect her snatch only to receive a follow-up torrent to her tits.
At long last the hoses were shut off, leaving Torres, Troi and T’Pol naked and soaked from head to toe. The three beauties trembled on bare unsteady legs, wrapping their arms around their tits, unable to believe that they had just been raped in front of this crowd, and worse that their Orion-conditioned bodies had climaxed so powerfully and so easily during that rape.
“I would invite you to stay a little longer,” Golga said, emerging from the crowd and walking towards the three soaked and humiliated Starfleet officers. “But your buyers are very insistent that I hand you over as soon as possible.” His giant guards flanked him, the Orion, the Gorn and the Nausican smiling at the three women they had just publicly violated. “I hope that this time there will be no further problems?”
All he saw from B’Elanna, Deanna and T’Pol were angry glares as the three women stared at Golga with indignation in their eyes. Despite being naked, despite their helplessness, despite every indignity that the Ferengi had visited upon them these three Starfleet officers were still defiant, refusing to bow to him. Looking at their defiant faces Golga knew that while he could force them to bend over and spread their legs, it would always and only be by force.
The Ferengi didn’t like that realization. “Fuck them again,” he ordered.
Deanna slipped and dropped on her rump, tits jiggling with
the impact and her back leaning against Starheart’s hull.
Her beautiful dark eyes looked up through her mess of dark tangled hair, seeing
the three giant bodyguards approach them with enormous grins on their eager
faces. At their hips were enormous pistols that looked far stronger than the
measly Ferengi weapons they had stolen. The Gorn leaned forward, his hands
snaking in towards Deanna’s bare breasts.
Troi’s left hand flashed out to her side, hitting a panel on the hull of the ship she was leaning against. This panel, positioned beside Starheart’s entry hatch, was the door control.
The broad entry hatch suddenly swung out and upwards,
striking the Gorn in the face and making him jerk back.
“Let’s go!” shouted T’Pol as she sprinted for the entrance with B’Elanna right behind her. The two tanned, toned women flew through the entrance before Golga’s crew could react and Deanna followed them in, hitting the interior door control to close and seal the entrance behind them.
Golga sputtered, stamping his feet
and clenching his fists as he stared at the closed hatch. The jug-eared Ferengi turned his beady eyes on his crew. “Don’t just
stand there!” he yelled, “Do something!”
+++++
Troi, Torres and T’Pol were back inside Starheart’s familiar Starfleet-style interior. “The bridge will be this way!” B’Elanna said, racing down the corridor with the Vulcan and Betazoid close behind. The three naked officers raced as fast as they could, legs pumping, asses wiggling and tits bouncing.
Already they could see differences in the ship they had first awoken in a week before. More lights were on and the doors slid open before them as they dashed through. The three nude brunettes charged onto the bridge and then skidded to a halt, staring at the apparition before them.
“Thank goodness you made it!” said a blue-skinned snow-haired Andorian, her slim figure clad in the blue and black of a Starfleet science uniform. She was pointing everywhere. “Engineering is there, sensors there, helm is there, we have to get out of here right now!”
The three women leapt to the available stations, Deanna
sliding into a helm seat, T’Pol standing at a sensory
station while Torres tended to the ship systems console. “You’re Melika,” the Klingon said, dark eyes moving between her
screens and the Andorian, “You worked on Starheart.”
The gorgeous uniformed teen looked at the Klingon with large blue eyes. Then she flickered like an out-of-tune picture. “I’m a hologram of Ensign Melika, based on her image and personality, but we really have to be leaving! There’ll be time for explanations later!”
“Exterior view,” T’Pol reported. The forward half of the small bridge was actually a thick curved canopy, digitally tinted, that could serve as a viewscreen or as an ordinary window. Its tint flashed clear and the women could now see the hanger outside the ship.
Crewmen were racing around carrying equipment. Already they could see heavy cutting gear being moved to the hull of their ship, ready to pierce the ship’s skin so that the three beauties inside could be pried out. Other men readied weapons, obviously readying themselves for the task of stunning the escaping slavegirls.
They could see Golga, a small figure among his alien crew, gesturing wildly and shouting orders. The Ferengi shot a glare at the bridge of the ship, seeming to stare directly at the three bare-bodied Starfleet officers, before resuming his efforts to rally his crew.
“Powering up,” stated Torres, her bare breasts dangling as she leaned over her console. “Starheart’s batteries are fully charged. We have enough energy to initiate impulse power! I think I can get warp drive online in another minute!”
“We have to get through that hanger door,” said T’Pol, the lights from her sensory station illuminating the lower swells of her breasts. “We have armaments?”
The Melika hologram nodded. “Light phasers but nothing else. Starheart was designed for engine testing, not combat.”
“The phasers won’t work,” reported Torres, “Sections of the power grid aren’t charged up yet!”
“Do we have shields?” Deanna asked.
B’Elanna nodded. “Raising shields. Those thugs are going to have some trouble getting in here with us.”
“That’s not what I was thinking of.” The counselor’s breasts pushed together as she reached for the helm controls with both hands. “My flight instructor was always telling me to fly more carefully or I’d crash into something!”
+++++
Starheart lifted from the deck and reversed back into the hanger doors. The experimental Starfleet design was smaller and weaker than any cruiser but its deflectors were more than enough to protect it as it crashed through the unshielded metal doors with brute force. The three women were rocked by the collision, all of them slapping hands on their consoles to steady themselves, the words “FOR SALE” on their breasts jiggling.
The small ship erupted out into open space, tumbling amidst fragments of broken metal that had once been the hanger doors of Pride of Golga. Troi steadied the ship with a few bursts from its thrusters. Then the counselor’s dark eyes were dragged to the canopy. “Oh god,” the curvaceous brunette whispered, “Look!”
Through Starheart’s transparent canopy they could see the aft of Golga’s cruiser, which now sported a large hole where its hanger doors used to be. That hole now spilled shuttles, equipment and flailing bodies as the air in the chamber was blown out into the vacuum. From many struggling figures one became clear, drawing all of the women’s eyes. It was a tiny, large-headed, big-eared figure in a heavy coat, his arms waving and his legs kicking.
The three women watched as Golga, the Ferengi that had captured them, stripped them of their clothes, paraded them naked on Ferenginar, sold them as slaves before thousands of spectators and most recently ordered his men to rape them in full view of his crew, was dragged into the deadly embrace of space.
Then the massive ugly shape of a Cardassian battleship flew into their field of vision. The flailing Ferengi hit the huge ship’s orange skin like a bug on a windshield, becoming a tiny red smear on the battleship’s hull.
“Cardassians!” Deanna gasped, “Looks like they came to pick up B’Elanna in person!”
T’Pol’s hands moved quickly over her sensory controls. “The vessel is charging its main cannon and locking on to us.”
Melika’s blue eyes were wide as a
hologram looked around quickly, gathering information from the ship itself. “There’s
no way Starheart
can survive a direct fight with that ship!”
They could see the menacing Cardassian warship turn towards them. Built into its bow was an enormous phaser array, glowing furious red as it charged up. Then a beam of blazing energy launched from the battleship’s main cannon and smashed into Starheart’s shields.
Everything on the ship seemed to turn sideways. B’Elanna and T’Pol hand to hold onto their consoles to stop themselves from falling, while Deanna was saved by her chair. Only the hologram Melika was unaffected by the jolt, her slim uniformed figure standing completely straight as the three nude beauties leaned and jiggled around her. With a scream Troi pulled on the helm controls as if trying to drag Starheart to safety with her bare hands.
The counselor’s desperate maneuver succeeded. The silver Starheart pulled to one side and slipped behind the metal mass of Pride of Golga, their former prison. Starheart was suddenly out of the line of fire while the Ferengi freighter, its shields not raised, was suddenly taking the brunt of the Cardassian cannon.
The beam tore through hull and girders and corridors, carving a path of flaming annihilation from the Pride of Golga’s starboard side almost to its heart before the Cardassians ceased fire. Secondary explosions tore across the freighter’s tail, rocking the small silver ship hiding in its shadow.
“Our shields are gone!” B’Elanna went from console to console, her firm tanned body moving with athletic grace. “But we might have enough energy for the star drive! It’d be a miracle if it runs,” she added in a lower voice. “They’ve spent two hundred years trying to get Starheart’s engine to work right…”
T’Pol’s bare breasts trembled as she stared at her readouts. “Detecting discharges within Golga’s ship. Its reactor is about to breach!”
Torres’s hands flew over a console as she stabbed at buttons, leaning forward and unknowingly flaunting her firm ass and dangling tits. “Best shot is now! Deanna, fire the star drive!”
“Engaging!” Deanna yelled, her hands at the helm controls and her arms pushing her boobs together.
The aft of the Pride of Golga become a blinding eruption of white light. The bow of the freighter exploded in flames. Its warp nacelles were blown to either side, and several minutes later would become navigational hazards for ships on the other side of Ferenginar orbit.
Every ship that was not shielded by the planet’s shadow was
briefly blinded by the blast, sensors overwhelmed by the energy. That meant
that none of the ships present saw Starheart leap forward at impossible speeds and race away
into the night.
+++++
Deanna Troi gaped at her display. “My god! We’re going at warp nine point nine nine… it’s got a lot of nines!”
T’Pol turned to stare around the ship’s bridge in quiet wonder. “It works. After two hundred years of trying, Starheart works.”
B’Elanna let out a yip of victory, punching the air and unwittingly making her bare breasts dance. “There’s no way that Cardassian clunker can outrun us now! We’re free! We’re… free.”
She said the word with soft awe. The Klingon lifted one hand to her chest, her fingers pressing between her soft breasts to feel her own pumping heart. “We’re actually free.”
The trio took a moment to catch their breath, reflecting on the truth of what Torres said. Each of them cast her eyes down, looking at her own “FOR SALE” breasts and smooth and hairless pussies, a sign of the Orion conditioning they had received. Each was sharply aware of the “SOLD” sign they wore on their asses. The events they had endured over the past week had been shocking and humiliating. Each woman had believed themselves condemned to the worst fate imaginable. But now they had escaped. Now Golga and his men and his buyers could no longer touch them.
Deanna Troi rose from the helm seat, her voluptuous figure straight and regal despite the humiliating signs on her breasts and bottom. As one the three naked Starfleet officers turned and directed their beautiful dark eyes at the blue-skinned hologram standing at the back of the bridge.
“I believe, Miss Melika,” T’Pol said as she folded her slim arms in front of her full
soft melons, “That it is time for some answers.”
TO BE CONTINUED
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