By joan the english chick

Written March 1995

Disclaimer: The characters and settings of "Star Trek: Voyager" are property of Paramount Pictures, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is property of the author, and may not be reproduced, retransmitted, or posted anywhere without my expressed permission.

Warnings/Ratings: This story is rated NC-17 for explicit sexual situations.
Spoilers: None

"Sensor sweep negative. There's nothing in this sector, Captain," reported Ensign Harry Kim from his station.

"Thank you, Mr. Kim." Captain Kathryn Janeway turned to nod at the young ensign and paused, shooting him a speculative look. He was young and impressionable, probably easily cowed ... she was beginning to be bored with the ever-impassive submission of her science officer. She was in the mood for someone who would beg for it....

Across the bridge, Tuvok observed the captain's inspection of Ensign Kim with bland Vulcan detachment. After all the years they had known each other (a small part of his brain made note of the pun on the ancient Earth sense of the verb "to know"), he could read Janeway's thoughts like a Betazoid. In fact, he was a low-level telepath in his own right, as were a certain percentage of Vulcans. The captain seemed quite intrigued with young Mr. Kim, Tuvok noted. It might be interesting to witness a coupling between the two of them...for purely educational reasons, of course. He frowned slightly as his uniform seemed to grow almost imperceptibly tighter.

"Captain?" First Officer Chakotay's smooth voice cut into Janeway's consciousness, interrupting a lovely picture of Ensign Kim lying buck naked with his hands and feet tied to the bedposts -- "Yes?" Janeway said somewhat irritably. "May I speak to you in private?" Chakotay didn't know Janeway as well as Tuvok did, but he knew something was going on. He met her annoyed glare and held it calmly until she gave in.

"Very well. Mr. Paris, you have the bridge." She led the way into her ready room.

"Permission to speak freely," Chakotay requested formally as soon as the door swished shut behind them. Janeway nodded curtly, folding her arms across her chest. The gesture was one of impatience, but he knew she was listening. "Captain, something appears to be wrong. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?" He allowed a hint of concern to show on his open face.

"N-" Janeway began to deny, but something in the Maquis' tone gave her pause. 'Anything I can do for you,' he'd said...She looked at him again, her gaze speculative. Unconsciously, her tongue snuck out of her mouth and licked her lips, lizard-like.

That tiny gesture was all Chakotay needed. It, combined with his long experience at reading people, spoke volumes about the sexual frustrations growing inside the apparently hormone-less captain, and about her slightly unusual tastes and proclivities. It had been quite a while since Chakotay had last indulged in proclivities of that nature. He pursed his lips. Not a word had been spoken, but volumes had been communicated. Chakotay smiled slightly, a feral grin that awakened a twinge of urgency in Janeway's groin.

"Would you like to do this somewhere else, or is the floor here hard enough for you?" he asked, his voice as composed as ever. Janeway returned his wicked grin and moved with liquid speed toward him.

"Everything in this room is hard enough for me, I hope," she said, moving so that the very tips of her breasts brushed his chest. She was nearly as tall as he, and they looked each other in the eyes for an instant before closing the last half-inch of space between them; their mouths met hungrily, hands ripping feverishly at clothing. The sturdy Starfleet-issue uniforms, unused to such violent passions, gave way and soon lay in tatters on the floor. As they sank to the floor themselves. Chakotay felt the cold touch of metal on his wrists; in moments he was handcuffed by both wrists to the legs of the captain's desk. Unperturbed, he grinned up at her.

"Do your worst," he urged, stretching his long coffee-colored body under her. For a moment she knelt by him, just admiring the strength of his muscled arms and legs, the firmness of his chest and stomach, the unabashed eagerness of his penis where it stood at attention like a green ensign meeting his first commander. Janeway intended to command it, all right. She looked up to his face, where beads of sweat were already condensing on the tribal symbols tattooed on his forehead. His eyes twinkled at her, aroused and amused. Fiercely, she bent to bite the insides of his thighs....

On the bridge, Tuvok shielded his console with his body as he rerouted the ship's inner sensors to show him the interior of the Captain's ready room. He observed for a moment, gauging the time remaining until climax, and turned his attention to the transporter. His well-experienced fingers easily called up a spare captain's uniform from the storeroom, and hid the transporter beam from sensors so it would go undetected. He watched on the screen as the spare uniform took shape, neatly folded, on the desk, unnoticed by the two on the floor.

"Hey, Tuvok," said B'Elanna Torres, emerging from the turbolift. "Mind if I use your console?" With controlled speed, Tuvok killed the display and turned bland eyes on the chief engineer.

"Certainly not, Lieutenant. Please be my guest." He moved out of the way. Torres took a few readings, then glanced up at Tuvok and around the room.

"Isn't Chakotay on duty?" she asked.

"Indeed," Tuvok replied, "he is in consultation with the Captain in her ready room."

"Oh. Well, I need to consult with him, and I could probably use the Captain's advice too." She tapped the console briefly. "Thanks." She turned toward the ready room....

...inside which Janeway, gasping in ecstacy as she straddled Chakotay's strong thighs, was suddenly startled out of her excitement by a strange sensation -- and suddenly found herself unable to move her arms. "What..." She realized that she was on her back, her hands captive in the same handcuffs that until recently had kept Chakotay her willing prisoner. In the process of switching their places, he had removed his penis from her depths, and now knelt over her, smiling that same feral grin which had so turned her on earlier.

"How did you do that?" she demanded, gasping and twisting her hands. Her entire body contorted with the effort of trying to free herself, and her breasts jiggled enticingly. Her entire pelvic area burned with the need for release. Chakotay pinched her nipples, hard, and she yelped.

"An old tribal trick I learned from my father," he said. "Maybe someday I'll show you -- if you're nice." His grin widened, and he leaned over her, pushing the very tip of his straining penis into her, pulling backward when she tried to thrust herself onto it. "So, Captain, how do you like it on the other end?"

To Janeway's surprise and sudden embarrassment, she liked it a lot. She hadn't tried being the submissive partner since the Academy: she'd always found that she preferred to be the aggressive one. But there was no mistaking the reactions her body was giving her....

..."That would be inadvisable," said Tuvok over-hastily, moving to block B'Elanna's way. His words and his action were so sudden and un-Vulcan in their intensity that the Klingon woman looked at him with some concern.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I believe the captain and Commander Chakotay are engaged in a... religious exercise," Tuvok explained. It wasn't entirely a lie: there were races in the Federation that ritually engaged in non-consensual or non-participatory sexual activities of a similar nature. Humans were endlessly fascinating, Tuvok thought: for Vulcans, the so-called "missionary position" was sufficient, if not necessary.

"Oh." B'Elanna's face was suffused with understanding as she recalled her previous interruption of Janeway's meeting with her animal guide. She had no wish to relive that episode. "Well, I suppose it can wait. Will you let me know when they're finished?"

"Certainly," Tuvok promised, and the draining of tension he experienced in his shoulders was surely not relief -- that would have been illogical.

"Mr Tuvok," said Captain Janeway fifteen minutes later when she emerged, her uniform looking unusually neat and well-pressed, "will you join us for a moment?"

"Certainly, Captain." The tall Vulcan stepped down from his station and followed the captain into her ready room, looking with characteristic detachment at the shreds of clothing on the floor, the twisted handcuffs still attached to the desk legs, and the amused, calmly unselfconscious expression on Chakotay's face as he stood there nude.

"Mr Tuvok, I am grateful for your assistance," Janeway said, gesturing at her new uniform, "but as you can see, you seem to have overlooked a certain detail."

"I do apologize, Captain," Tuvok replied, and went to the wall console to exercise his skill. In passing he considered complimenting Chakotay on the size of his genitalia, but deduced from his previous experience with human males that such a compliment would only cause embarrassment and resentment, perhaps two of the most incomprehensible in the gamut of illogical human emotions. However, being an atypical man in many senses of the word, perhaps Commander Chakotay would not be averse to some further experimentation -- purely for the sake of enlightenment, of course. Tuvok raised an eyebrow at the titillating thought, and saw a similar expression on the other man's face as the Vulcan handed him a new uniform.

"Thanks," Chakotay said simply, loading the word with meaning. Tuvok inclined his head formally and left. Chakotay watched him go, the fresh uniform almost forgotten in his hand.

"He has a cute butt," was all he said to Janeway as he began to get dressed.

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Last updated 30 October 2002