Bride of Arachnia

    by Tenderware (tenderware@gate.net)

VOY J/7 NC-17

Warning:  Well, this installment needs a bit more than the standard "women kiss each other...and more" warning. Seven is tied up for most of the story, and there are allusions to pain, torture, and slave girls...but it's all done very tongue in cheek....no, not that "cheek." This is a sex romp featuring the world of Dr. Chaotica, the evil fiend from Tom Paris's "Captain Proton" holodeck simulation and a terrific parody of the dark villain of early sci-fi TV serials, like Flash Gordon (kudos to Voyager writers on this one). Of course, those origins make Chaotica a pretty nasty character. So please be warned! If lascivious megalomaniacs with sex toys offend you, this story is not for you.

Disclaimer: The characters were created by Paramount, Kate Mulgrew, and Jeri Ryan.  I'm just borrowing them to tell a tale. This is strictly a fair-use, not-for-profit, just-for-fun kind of deal. No money exchanged hands; just a few ideas about romance.

Summary: When Janeway returns as Queen Arachnia and tries to get Seven to loosen up by playing Constance Goodheart, they unwittingly uncover a seamier side to Paris's "Captain Proton" holodeck program.

Timeframe: After the 5th season episode Bride of Chaotica. Spoilers.

Acknowledgments: Buckets of appreciation to "EmptyFlask" for several editing suggestions and a few choice one-liners.


Contents (full version)
Prologue  ***  Act I   ***  Act II  ***  Act III  ***  Act IV  ***  Epilogue

Prologue

"No, stop, no, stop, no," Seven of Nine droned.

Kathryn Janeway met the former Borg's placid gaze with a smirk. She had just finished locking the second shackle and pulled back to study the young woman. Seven's arms were trapped by two wrist restraints attached to the holodeck simulated wall on either side of her head. Even if it was only make-believe, this predicament should have elicited a little more distress in the Borg's tone.

"You could try to inject a little more feeling into it, couldn't you?"

"I am," Seven protested evenly. "What I feel is that this is a frivolous human endeavor. Furthermore, Kathryn," she added with a scrutinizing gaze, "you look ridiculous in that attire."

"Well, if you're going to insult me," she retorted sardonically, reaching up to adjust her Queen Arachnia wig, "I want you to go back to calling me 'Captain'!"

Seven quirked her metal brow. "Very well, Captain," she responded readily, which annoyed Janeway to no end.

She and Seven were running a location subroutine from Tom Paris's Captain Proton holo-serial. It was Chaotica's "Dungeon of Pain," which Janeway had been dismayed to find embedded in several episodes of the simulation. She tried to avoid wondering how precisely the libidinous young ensign used this part of the program, particularly when she noticed that the dungeon was cross-referenced to "slave girls" and "Chaotica's harem" in the datalogs. Nevertheless, she considered it a useful setting for her current enterprise with Seven: an acting lesson for the former Borg drone. (And there was a part of Kathryn Janeway that secretly loved playing the over-the-top Queen of the Spider People.)

"This is tactical training, Seven," Janeway explained after a moment.

"Elaborate."

"Tuvok thinks that, with your capabilities, you'd be a valuable asset on some of Voyager's undercover Away missions. I agree. But I can't have you gallivanting off on covert operations if you don't know even the basics of role-playing. Learning how to portray a 'damsel in distress' will be an important part of your repertoire."

The young woman raised her eyebrows in skepticism. "'Damsel in distress'," she said, her demeanor too superior to bother about inflecting the question.

"A woman in need of assistance," Janeway translated.

"I rarely require assistance."

Despite herself, Janeway smiled at the unbridled Borg certitude. While most people found it arrogant, she found it unaccountably attractive on this particular Borg.

"In fact, what I'm trying to teach you is how to be more self-sufficient."

"Explain."

"I'm trying to teach you how to use your own guile to get what you want so that you can rely on that rather than on your phaser or your companions, neither of which may be ready-to-hand at some crucial moment. Say you find yourself weaponless and alone and suddenly surrounded by three hulking Hirogen. They may be less guarded if you seem meek and defenseless, and that may be sufficient for you to strike a few decisive blows and flee unharmed."

"And this 'costume'?" she said with thinly veiled disgust, as she looked down at herself. "This is supposed to assist me in implementing these tactics?"

Wanting to make the Borg look more suitable for the part, Janeway had replicated a costume for her, too, and had insisted the young woman wear it. It was a sleeveless, gold-lamé dress with thick straps and a scooped bodice that fell in silky waves across the Borg's ample bosom, showing a considerable amount of cleavage at the top. The rest of it pressed itself smoothly around the young women's thin waist and full hips, terminating at mid-thigh. The garment was accented by a matching pair of gold, high-heeled shoes that Seven seemed quite adept with. Looking at Seven now, Janeway was secretly pleased that she had disabled the default monochrome setting for the Captain Proton program. The gold dress set against Seven's paler yellow skin and blonde hair made the leggy Borg look like a latinum statue. Priceless.

The garment was considerably less garish than the captain's Arachnia costume but certainly more pomp and circumstance than the Borg was used to. Seven's everyday wardrobe consisted of five similar biometric suits--albeit, differently colored and quite flattering, but all very durable and athletic. She also owned an equally efficient black jumper that she wore when she played Velocity. The costume, by contrast, revealed far more skin, restricted her movements, and seemed a good deal more fragile. This was all intentional on Janeway's part. She knew from experience that different styles of clothing invited correspondingly different forms of conduct. A flimsy dress, she hoped, would encourage a flimsier demeanor in the Borg.

"How does the dress make you feel, Seven?"

The Borg considered that. "Uncomfortable...."

"Yes?" Janeway prodded.

"Awkward....."

The captain smiled and waited patiently for more.

"Vulnerable," the Borg concluded with a note of astonishment, clearly having gotten the captain's point.

"Exactly," Janeway said triumphantly.

"And...." the Borg added, suddenly realizing she felt something more.

"And?" the captain encouraged curiously.

"A little.....pretty?"

Janeway's expression softened, a smile slowly spreading itself across her lips. "Yes, Seven. You are.....'pretty'," she affirmed, at once surprised and warmed by Seven's understatement.

Seven considered the captain's logic regarding these tactics and had to admit that it did have some merit. And even if part of her still thought Kathryn looked ridiculous and that what they were doing was frivolous, she knew she'd have to go along with it. Kathryn was giving her that 'fond' look, the one that made Seven melt. She adored bringing that expression to the captain's face, even as she knew that she had no resistance against it.

"Very well, Kathryn," she said softly, still mesmerized by the captain's expression. "I will attempt to portray the 'distressed damsel' called Constance Goodheart."

Janeway gave a quick nod, clearly pleased to have won the argument, and too classy to gloat about it. Then gathering herself up, she threw herself into the part once more.

"Ha! Your Captain Proton is no match for Arachnia! I destroyed Chaotica, and with you as bait, I'll pulverize Proton, as well!"

Having listened intently for her cue with an expression of concentration adorably creasing her brow, Seven gave a quick nod now in subtle recognition of 'her turn'. Then she inhaled gamely and formulated her 'distressed' response.

"No, stop, no, stop, no," she recited.

The captain repressed a weary sigh, considering for a moment that it was perhaps futile to try teaching an emotionless Borg how to emote. She was about to open her mouth to provide a bit of direction to Seven when the room--either the mock chamber or the actual holodeck, she wasn't quite sure which--suddenly jolted.

"Janeway to Bridge. Report."

"Chakotay here, Captain," came back the warm tones of the First Officer. "Everything's status quo. Why do you ask?"

"Seven and I are on Holodeck 2 running the Captain Proton program, and it just felt as though we were under attack."

Over the open comlink, Janeway heard Harry Kim calling Chakotay. "Commander, sensors show an unusual energy spike in Holodeck 2, and....." he paused a moment checking his readings. "Controls and safeties appear to be off-line."

"Did you hear that, Captain?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes," Janeway replied. "Would you instruct Engineering to initiate repairs immediately?"

"Torres here, Captain," the Chief Engineer called from her command post in the lower decks. "We're already on it," she assured efficiently, having been monitoring the conversation between the holodeck and the Bridge.

"Do you know what happened?"

"Sensor readings are coming in now, Captain."

There was a short pause over the comlink as Torres apparently looked over the readings that Janeway knew were being simultaneously transmitted to Kim at Ops and Chakotay at the Command station.

After a moment, Torres reported. "Several of the tanks of neometazene that we picked up on Barrellys 3 yesterday have blown, Captain. Cargo Bay 2 is flooded with gas, and a lot of it seeped into the nearby computer core before the containment fields went up. We're evacuating personnel now, but the damage to the core is affecting random computer systems throughout the ship, including holodeck controls."

"How bad is the damage?"

"There's no permanent damage to any vital functions, but the Borg regeneration alcoves are off-line. I can't be sure until we get in there and examine them more closely, but worst case: Seven won't be able to regenerate for a couple of days.......Guess she'll have to try something really radical, like sleeping," Torres added, unable to resist teasing the former drone.

"Your concern is unnecessary, Lieutenant," the Borg shot back evenly through the comlink. "I will adapt," she asserted, arms still dangling casually from the shackles.

Janeway had to stifle a smile, unwilling to encourage acrimonious exchanges between her senior officers but unable completely to resist being amused by their mutual sarcasm. "What about transporters?" she asked, returning the conversation to more urgent matters.

"No dice, Captain," Harry Kim responded. "The fluctuating antineutron particles in the computer core make it too risky for us to try transporting you and Seven out. The controls could malfunction in the middle of the transport. Fortunately, auxiliary life-support systems are unaffected, so you're in no environmental danger."

"Understood," Janeway responded. "How long before you can get us out of here, B'Elanna?"

"The actual repair work will take only about ten minutes, Captain, but it'll take several hours to clear the gas so that my team can get to the computer core and initiate those repairs."

"Safety first, of course, Lieutenant, but see if you can't shave an hour or two off that estimate. OK?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Are you still there, Commander?" she asked Chakotay.

"Yes, Captain?" he responded lightly, already anticipating what she was about to say.

"Looks like the ship is yours until further notice," she observed unnecessarily.

Chakotay couldn't help grin at how much the captain despised being separated from her beloved Bridge. "I'll make sure Voyager is clean and polished before returning the keys to you," he teased. "In the meantime, your Majesty," he added, trying to veil his concern, "I recommend you and Seven play nice....at least until those safeties are back online."

"We always 'play nice', Commander," Janeway dissembled. She willfully ignored the incident some two weeks prior when she and Seven had reported to Sickbay after their Velocity match sporting several lacerations, three bruised ribs, a sprained ankle, and a twisted Borg implant between them.

Chakotay politely ignored the omission, too, although he secretly still wondered how the two women had managed to mangle that implant. "Understood, Captain. Bridge out."

"Well," Janeway said after a moment, "at least it's just the two of us in here."

Seven frowned. "And this fact pleases you?"

"It does," Janeway responded absently. Then sensing that Seven was fishing for something more--although Janeway wasn't quite sure what--she elaborated. "It pleases me because we won't have to worry about some holo-character exceeding his programming in, shall we say, an inauspicious fashion."

"I see," Seven said.

Janeway sensed a note of disappointment in the young woman's tone and wondered what that was all about. Before she could ask, however, the two women were interrupted by an audible gasp of surprise.

"Arachnia, my beloved! You've arrived at last!"

Janeway stiffened at the all too familiar voice. Then she turned slowly towards its source and retched his name: "Chaotica!"



 

Act I

Kathryn Janeway seethed inwardly at the construct before her. Since she and Seven had not been running an actual episode of the Proton program, Chaotica should not have been present at all. That omission had been intentional. On their last encounter, Janeway had found the evil megalomaniac rather oily and distasteful, and she had thought herself permanently rid of him.

The villain, however, had no apparent memory of being "vaporized" alongside his "Death Ray." Janeway guessed that perhaps they were in some earlier time frame, which meant that Chaotica would also fail to recollect how Arachnia (Janeway) had betrayed him. All the better, she thought, given that the holodeck safeties were non-operational.

Chaotica greased his way toward the two women. "Arachnia, Queen of the Spider People!" he enunciated with great pomp. "Welcome. Yes, welcome, my sweet." He deposited a drooly kiss on the back of Janeway's hand, which she wiped against her dress with visible disgust as he oozed past her to examine the shackled blonde. "I see you've brought me a gift."

The implication made Janeway's jaw set painfully as if she were chewing on a piece of foil. She swallowed back the sensation and went to work trying to win Chaotica over through cunning manipulation. Despite the circumstances, she hoped Seven was watching carefully and would learn something from her example.

"Sire," she began in treacle tones, "this creature is Proton's secretary, Constance Goodheart. My intent was to use her as bait for a bigger prize: Captain Proton himself."

"Yes, yes! Bravo, Arachnia! What a clever notion. Have you alerted Proton?"

"I was about to," she lied.

Seven was impressed by the speed and facility with which the captain assumed her role and "improvised" suitable phrases, which seemed to be achieving the desired effect of manipulating the hologram's actions.

Chaotica turned to his second. "Lonzak, send out a broadcast informing Proton that we have his cherished assistant. Tell him he must surrender to me within twenty-four hours if he wishes to see her unharmed."

"Understood, Majesty," the second acknowledged with a bow before retreating to carry out the orders.

"Now then, my sweet," Chaotica said, returning his attention to Arachnia and rubbing his hands together excitedly, "shall we begin torturing her?"

Seven considered that perhaps she should be concerned for her own safety, but she was too distracted by her genuine confusion at how the hologram had just contradicted himself.

"Dr. Chaotica," she objected in crisp, logical tones, "you have just indicated that no harm would come to Proton's secretary.....uh, that is to say, to me.......if Proton cooperates within the next twenty-four hours. My internal chronometer indicates that only 19.2 seconds of that period have elapsed."

"My dear, I am never a man of my word. You can count on that."

Janeway stepped in hurriedly to forestall Chaotica. "Sire...." she began, trying to keep the alarm out of her voice, "your wicked ways are legend. But....my gift to you is Proton; I would not deign to present you with so inferior a substitute."

Seven hitched a surprised brow at the disparaging words.

"Inferior?" Chaotica asked, a bit surprised himself.

The Borg gave a quick nod, pleased that Chaotica was objecting on her behalf. She did not seem as bothered by the contradiction that the vile simulation who was threatening to torture her should suddenly become her champion against the gentle woman who was trying to protect her.

"Why, yes," Janeway asserted. "This female has been damaged and apparently mended with what appear to be metallic contraptions. Here," she said, pointing to the ocular implant, "and here," she added, pointing to Seven's enhanced left hand, "and who knows where else," she intoned with a look of mock disgust for emphasis.

"Hmm," Chaotica considered. "Yes, I see your point, my dear. She does appear quite.....odd."

Seven smirked. "I was not aware that megalomaniacs are so fickle, Dr. Chaotica."

Chaotica smiled. "She is quite feisty, isn't she?"

"Too feisty for her own good," Janeway scowled, casting a disapproving glance at Seven.

"Yes, feisty and odd," Chaotica agreed, studying the young woman with renewed interest despite Arachnia's objections. "But with so many wonderfully invasive procedures and devices at our disposal, my beloved," he continued lasciviously, "wouldn't it be amusing to see where else this otherwise exquisite creature has been--shall we say--soldered?" Half his face twitched at his own suggestion as if he were trying to restrain a libido that was already causing parts of his anatomy to jerk uncontrollably.

"Certainly, my.....sadistic one!" Janeway dissembled with a barely concealed grimace. "But I thought to conduct the inspection myself so as not to sully you with so middling a task on such a worthless female. After all, Proton is the real prize."

Seven felt her face flushing with some undefined emotion, and although she couldn't understand why she was so unsettled by Janeway's comments, she had an unaccountable desire to object vehemently--perhaps even physically--to this undeserved characterization of herself. In fact, she was fairly certain she wanted to strike the captain.

"Indeed," Chaotica offered pensively.

Janeway noticed that his expression seemed skeptical, and she worried that perhaps he was sensing her subterfuge.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Pardon?" Janeway asked, forgetting herself for an instant.

"I am no fool, my dear."

Janeway swallowed nervously, and even Seven seemed a bit wide-eyed as she looked on, forgetting her irritation at the captain's earlier words of disdain.

"Arachnia," he continued with a leer, "I do believe, despite your protests, that you are rather captivated by your captive."

That wasn't quite what Janeway and Seven had been expecting. Janeway was baffled, not knowing how precisely to respond, while Seven felt unaccountably pleased by the suspicion.

"And by the fond look on this girl's charming face," he observed further, "I dare say the feelings are mutual."

Janeway couldn't help turning towards Seven to see if what Chaotica was saying were true. She noticed Seven blush and avert her eyes, a reaction which promptly nonplussed the captain.

"Very well, ladies," Chaotica continued. "I will not interfere with the course of true lust. You may proceed with the inspection of your prisoner, Arachnia. I will merely supervise."

Just then, Lonzak politely cleared his throat to get his master's attention. While Chaotica busied himself with his subordinate, Janeway took the opportunity to conspire with Seven.

"I'm not going to let him put you through this 'inspection'," she vowed quietly.

Since it would be Kathryn actually conducting the inspection, Seven found the whole idea quite appealing. The oh-so-very-proper captain, however, seemed a little too appalled by it, so the young woman countered the captain's objections by presenting her with a tactically sound assessment of their situation.

"Kathryn, with the safeties off and no weapon you can use for protection, you should not risk an open confrontation with Chaotica and his men."

"Do you have a different plan?"

"Yes. I believe we should 'play it close to the breast'," Seven suggested.

Janeway did a doubletake.

At the Doctor's suggestion, the Borg had recently begun to pepper her comments with cultural idioms and expressions to help make her crisp and technical style of speaking more conversational. Janeway couldn't tell, however, whether in this instance, the young woman's mistaken word choice was an intentional pun.

"Uhm, don't you mean 'close to the vest'?"

"I do not."

"Oh."

"Neither of us is wearing a vest."

"I know."

"Therefore, the typical expression is imprecise under the present circumstances."

"I see."

"And 'breast' seemed more apposite."

"Of course."

Seven cocked her head inquisitively. "Does the expression lose something in my translation?"

Janeway couldn't help darting a quick look at Seven's bountiful chest before responding. "Quite the opposite, I'd say."

Seven perceived the implied compliment. "Thank you, Kathryn," she said with a shy smile.

"You're welcome," Janeway responded politely. "Please continue."

"I do not perceive any harm in Chaotica's proposal. After all, he wishes merely to watch. Therefore, I suggest you 'have your way with me'."

Janeway swallowed audibly.

"Have I used that phrase incorrectly?" Seven asked concerned.

"Uh, that depends. What exactly are you suggesting?"

"That you remove all of my clothing and explore my body in a sexually explicit manner," she responded matter-of-factly.

Janeway gulped again.

"Is that not what he expects?" Seven added innocently.

"Yes," Janeway acceded nervously. "It is."

"Than I have used the phrase correctly," Seven noted proudly.

Janeway was dismayed that the young woman seemed more concern with semantics than with the content of what she was saying. "Seven, you have no idea what you're suggesting," she protested. "You could be hurt by this!"

"Not if we 'role-play', Kathryn," the young woman observed. "Did you not say that you wished me to learn how to do that?"

Kathryn looked rather at a loss. "Seven, have you ever....you know?....."

"Copulated?" the Borg offered evenly.

Kathryn winced. "Yes."

"I have not."

"Have you ever been.....uhm, fondled?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"A kiss on the lips?"

"Never."

"If I....touch you in any of these ways, even if we're just role-playing," Janeway explained patiently, "there may be emotional repercussions....for both of us."

"You mean, we could develop 'feelings' for each other."

"That's one possibility," Janeway agreed.

"There are other possibilities?" Seven asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes. One of us could develop feelings that the other can't return."

Seven hadn't considered that. She already knew that she had strong feelings for the captain, and she secretly hoped that the present circumstances would give her an opportunity to express those feelings. She had not considered, however, that the captain might not return those feelings. And she felt certain now that Janeway was gingerly trying to tell her that she would not.

Kathryn watched the young woman hopefully. On the outside, she maintained the gentle facade of captain and mentor, but on the inside, she was fairly bursting with unrequited love for the young woman. Unfortunately, Seven's inexperience and her status as a member of Janeway's crew complicated matters enormously. Kathryn could never allow herself to make the first move, fearing Seven would acquiesce simply owing to the older woman's rank and the sway she had over her young charge. Which is why she had been patient all these many months, at most encouraging their friendship and hoping that Seven would eventually take the next step. Her greatest fear, however, was that the former Borg would never develop emotionally, that she would never be able to feel love, would never be able to return Kathryn's feelings. And it was this that Kathryn meant by "emotional repercussions."

"I understand," Seven said, managing thoroughly to misunderstand the captain's true feelings. "However, Kathryn, I do not believe we can afford to concern ourselves at present with the 'emotional repercussions' you mention. We will have to 'cross that bridge when we come to it'. In the meantime, I believe our best course of action under the present circumstances is for me to portray the 'damsel' and for you to 'distress' me."

Despite her discomfort at the suggestion, Janeway couldn't help smiling fondly at the Borg's earnestness....and her rather quirky way of putting things. "Perhaps that would be the safest way to proceed," she relented.

"And it would have heuristic benefits," Seven added, almost cheerfully. "I would learn how to 'act' by actually endeavoring to do so. Certainly, the 'motivation' is present," she suggested, casting a disdainful glance towards Chaotica.

Janeway gave a humorless snort in response, and then stifled her concerns, trying to throw herself into the part once more as Chaotica returned.

"Well, my dear, Proton has been informed of Miss Goodheart's predicament, but he has not seen fit to pay us the courtesy of a response. Better get on with the inspection, Arachnia: we may have to torture her, after all," he said matter-of-factly, as he deposited himself on his nearby throne, casually skimming an imperial report. After a moment, he noticed Arachnia hadn't moved and added as an afterthought, "Shall I have my guards assist you in undressing her?"

"No!" Janeway blurted, then remembering herself. "Sire, we must not allow Proton's silence to intimidate us into altering our schedule. Whether or not Proton surrenders, this creature is ours to do with as we please....and at our own leisure," she purred in languid tones. "Why rush the inevitable? Anticipation," she explained, eyeing Seven suggestively, "is such a pleasant sensation."

There was more than a hint of sincerity in the comment, and in the way it lingered between the two women as their gazes locked for a moment.

Chaotica's fiendish grin widened. "Quite right, my dear. Miss Goodheart is not going anywhere. Proceed at your leisure," he commanded with a half dismissive wave of his hand as he returned to the report.

"I don't know where to begin," Janeway muttered, half to herself. She hadn't meant to say that aloud and deeply regretted it when Chaotica offered a suggestion.

"Those breasts look extremely inviting, my queen," he observed casually as he glanced up from his papers. "Why don't you just reach out and give them a good squeeze?"

"Why don't you just put a sock in it?" she retorted under her breath.

"I didn't quite catch that, my dear."

"I said, 'I wish that I had thought of it'," she lied, smiling sweetly. "How cleverly fiendish of you, Sire."

She looked at Seven a little pleadingly and also apologetically, knowing that the moment of truth, so to speak, had arrived.

Seven tried to reassure her by smiling slightly and giving a quick nod to urge the captain to proceed. At that, Janeway began to reach out with both hands, moving them slowly toward Seven's bosom.

Suddenly remembering that she had a part to play, too, Seven began her recitation: "No, stop, no, stop, no."

It was said with as little apparent distress and passion as her previous attempts, but this time, Janeway actually froze, fearing that she was about to violate the young woman in some profound way.

Under her breath, Seven protested at the captain's hesitation. "Kathryn, what are you doing?" she hissed quietly. "Chaotica is watching. You must manipulate my mammary glands!"

"You're such a sweet talker, Seven," she quipped, trying to take the edge off her nervousness. She did not hazzard a glance back at Chaotica, partly because she detested the hologram. Instead, she repressed her uneasiness, closed her eyes, and lunged forward with her hands.

The holodeck seemed to get unusually quiet the moment Janeway's hands made contact with Seven's gold-lamé covered breasts. Then, eyes still shut tight, she remembered she was supposed to give the mounds of flesh "a good squeeze." She proceeded to do so, adding a second squeeze in quick succession for good measure.

Seven gasped.

Too curious to remain in the dark, Janeway jerked one eye open and glanced at Seven. The young woman had closed her eyes, too, and was also biting her lower lip. Slightly shocked by what she saw, Janeway opened her other eye and inspected the Borg's face. The expression, Janeway noted with some surprise, was one of supreme pleasure. 'How could she be enjoying herself at a time like this?' the captain complained inwardly.

Seven opened her eyes. "Why did you stop?" she whispered, the protest apparent.

Janeway smirked back and began groping Seven's bosom with just a touch of asperity.

Seven bit her lower lip again, but this time she did not close her eyes. Instead, she stared intently into the captain's eyes.

The sky blue gaze communicated a more profound longing than the captain had ever expected to find there. Mesmerized by that gaze, Janeway became more languid in her motions, more rhythmic, more fond, until the groping gentled to a more experimental caress, palms cupping warmly along the periphery of Seven's breasts as the pads of Kathryn's thumbs massaged in gentle rotations around the hardening peaks in the middle. She heard and felt Seven shudder in response.

Kathryn's lips parted wantonly as she glanced down to see the effects of her thumbs' movements noticing the sharp outline of Seven's nipples against the silky sheen of her dress.

Seven was becoming aroused by Kathryn's caresses. The thought of that--and the sure knowledge that these sensations were new to the Borg--spurred Kathryn to become still more experimental with her caresses. Unable quite to help herself, therefore, she pinched Seven's nipples, anxious now to introduce the Borg to more of these sensations.

Seven gasped again.

Kathryn looked up into the young woman's face and felt herself smiling triumphantly. She wasn't quite certain why she felt that way. Perhaps because getting the former Borg drone to emote truly was an accomplishment to be proud of.

Seven smiled back, a look of utter satisfaction warming her typically placid features. It was only then that Kathryn realized that they weren't actually "pretending." In fact, if they continued in the same vein, this could easily become Seven's "first time." Kathryn frowned. The circumstances of this rather momentous event were less than ideal. Glancing back at Chaotica, she was relieved to find him deeply engrossed in the report he was reading. She returned her attention to Seven and studied the young woman's lovely face. The gaze was intense, unflinching in its contact with Kathryn's eyes, and the breaths were coming in short rasps through the full lips, which were parted slightly. The Borg's expression was uncharacteristically animated with curiosity, anticipation, excitement, and.....unveiled longing.....perhaps even.....desire. And there was something more in the Borg's expression that made the captain's heart skip a beat. Trust.

"Are you all right?" Kathryn asked below her breath.

"Yes," Seven replied tightly.

"I'm sorry he's here," she said with visible regret.

"I am not," Seven said honestly.

"What?!" Kathryn asked in astonishment.

"If it were not for these circumstances," Seven noted logically, having some difficulty talking through her own excitement, "you would not be touching me in this way."

Kathryn smiled, recognizing the truth of Seven's conclusion. She admitted to herself, however, that they couldn't really chalk it all up to circumstance. After all, from his vantage point, Chaotica couldn't tell how intense the contact was. She suddenly worried that perhaps she might be touching Seven a little too hard.

"Is it OK like this?" she asked uncertainly.

"Uh," Seven began haltingly, "a little.....more, I think....i-in case he looks up."

Kathryn saw through that bit of uncharacteristically flawed Borg logic. Smiling to herself, she intensified her actions for Seven's sake. Her hands moved languidly along the length of Seven's torso--down the curvaceous slopes of the young women's hips and back up until they were once again at Seven's breasts. Kathryn pressed her palms onto the nipples and grabbed as much of the mass as she could, pulling back in a tight squeeze until her fingers had groped their way to the stiff peaks of Seven's breasts, where they tweaked the nipples intently for long moments.

"Like this?" Kathryn asked unnecessarily.

"Yes," Seven hissed.

Both women were secretly disappointed at the layer of silk fabric that imposed itself obtrusively between Kathryn's fingers and Seven's nipples. It was certainly flimsier than the customary mesh the Borg wore and therefore allowed more manipulation, but the slippery fabric still made it difficult for Kathryn to get a good grip. She nonetheless gave it a valiant effort, working her fingers around a fair portion of the tips of Seven's breasts and pinching as tight as she could so that she was pulling the breasts up considerably by the nipples.

Seven balled her fists up and pulled against her restraints blindly, arching her back towards the delicious contact with Kathryn's long, nimble fingers, which were delicate and commanding all at once. That combination so perfectly epitomized Kathryn Janeway that had Seven been blindfolded and in the process of being fondled by a hundred different individuals--a momentary fantasy that made her shudder with unexpected pleasure--she felt certain that she would be able to pick out these gently-rough hands as the ones belonging to her one and only captain.

"Kathryn," she whispered ardently, her mind selecting the right pair of hands in response to the fantasy she had just imagined.

"Seven," came back the whispered reply.

"Kathryn," Seven called again, her voice rising slightly in response to a building ecstacy. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"No, no, no!" Chaotica bellowed, which startled the two women out of the intense moment they had been sharing.

"What is it, Sire," Janeway asked, feigning interest as she continued groping Seven.

Chaotica approached and began pacing in anger. "My unruly subjects on a nearby planetoid are refusing to pay their weekly tribute. They dare deny me?!" he said in sincere astonishment.

"It is their folly, Majesty."

"Yes, my dear. And their undoing!"

Chaotica absently glanced at Seven's breasts. "The cloth is beginning to impede your progress," he observed with casual skillfulness. Without a thought, he picked up a pair of nearby shears and cut a clean line down the middle of Seven's dress from cleavage to navel. Even in his distraction, he instinctively stopped short of opening the dress up completely, having developed the attitude that inspections of this nature were more delicious when they proceeded in stages.

The ample breasts burst through the parted flaps immediately. Both women gasped.

"They will rue their hubris!" he vowed, resuming his pace. "I will visit the full force of my wrath upon them......very nice," he commented, interrupting his tirade with a quick appraisal of Seven's breasts.

Since Seven's wrists were bound, Kathryn instinctively placed her hands on the young women's bosom to cover up her nakedness. Both women gasped again, this time at the unmediated contact. It had been meant as a form of protection but instantly became an indulgence as Seven's immodest and pleading gaze spurred Kathryn to resume her caresses. As if of their own accord, Kathryn's hands began to grope again. And before she knew it, Kathryn had trapped the plump, supple nubs between thumb, forefinger, and middle finger, pinched them tightly to get a good grip, and was pulling out sharply and rolling the tips expertly in a vicelike intensity.

Seven luxuriated in the delicious tightness around her sensitive nipples, eyes locked on Kathryn's as both women shared another moment, ignoring the evil fiend who was throwing a princely tantrum around them.

"Lonzak! Assemble my Army of Evil and prepare my rocket ship for immediate departure!" he ordered. "I shall smite them down for presuming to deny Chaotica, Ruler of the Cosmos!" he added thunderously. "I regret that I must leave you, my dear," he said honestly, turning his full attention to Arachnia now.

"Pity," Janeway lied sweetly, barely glancing at Chaotica as she continued pinching Seven's nipples.

"Not to worry, beloved," he assured. "This won't take long--an hour or two at most." Then gaping openly at Seven's breasts, he smacked his lips and added, "I'll be back in time for dinner with our delicious guest."

"I will not require nutritional supplements for at least another twelve hours," Seven informed him evenly, barely able to conceal the titillation she felt from Kathryn's ministrations.

"Charming, isn't she?" Chaotica observed.

"Indeed she is," Kathryn agreed sincerely.

"And quite receptive to your 'inspection'," he added, noticing the hardened nipples. "Proton will be rather disappointed you did not object."

"I do object," Seven said evenly. "No. Stop. No."

"Really, my dear," Chaotica chided. "You have not screamed even once."

"Screamed?" Seven asked, turning to Kathryn for counsel.

"To indicate your distress," the captain explained absently, thoroughly engrossed in kneading the fleshy masses before her.

Seven considered this. 'A person in distress screams. I am portraying a damsel in distress. Therefore, I should scream'. With a nod to herself indicating that she understood what she must do now, Seven took a deep breath and let out the most piercing, blood-curdling scream that Janeway or even Chaotic (who had considerably more experience in this area) had ever heard. Both of them immediately covered their ears in protection, which Seven instantly regretted since it meant that Kathryn was no longer manipulating her breasts. She stopped screaming, hoping that the captain would resume the pleasant activity. Kathryn did not.

"Forsooth, woman!" Chaotica exclaimed.

"Well, you did indicate that she should scream," Janeway noted ruefully, pressing her index fingers against the painful ringing in her eardrums.

"Indeed I did, but it is usually music to my ears," he explained with a wince. Then to the young woman, he advised, "Bring it down an octave, my dear, or I will be forced to employ a device so vile in its concept that even I have never utilized it before!"

"What?" Seven asked, genuinely impressed by the threat.

"A muzzle," he spat.

"I will comply," she assured, almost contritely.

"Well, my queen, I must not tarry here longer. While I am away, introduce this creature to the wonders of my 'Cradle of Persuasion'. It is a most remarkable device."

"What a shame you'll miss the best parts of the inspection," Janeway noted sarcastically, unable to resist the temptation to rub it in.

"Oh, my dear, how well you understand me," Chaotica smiled. "But fear not. I won't miss a moment of the inspection. My imagizers will record everything......in intimate detail!" he added with a leer.

"What a relief," Janeway said ruefully, internally kicking herself.



 

Act II

"Well, what do we do now?" Kathryn whispered, both women aware of the recording devices but relieved at least to be alone again now that Chaotica had gone off to "smite a few unruly subjects."

"Since our actions are being recorded," Seven whispered back, "and since we do not know if the systems will be repaired before Dr. Chaotica returns, I believe you should proceed with the inspection."

Kathryn knew that Seven would respond that way, but she wanted to make certain that the Borg was still prepared to follow through with their original plan. And although she expected this response, it still sent a titter of excitement through her to hear Seven say it. She also noticed a similar edge of anticipation sharpening the Borg's earnest expression.

Then playing it up for Chaotica's cameras, Janeway pinned her prey with a spidery gaze. "Well, my prize," she began, "time to finish the unwrapping. You will cooperate, of course, since any defiance will be met with the deadliest of force," she threatened, bringing it down an octave herself.

"I understand," Seven rejoined. "Resistance is futile."

"Quite," Janeway agreed, unable to repress a fond smile at the little bit of Borg that slipped into Seven's dialog.

Janeway picked up a nearby ray gun and pointed it at Seven. "In case you forget that 'resistance is futile'," she explained, waving the gun for effect. She then reached around a panel and pressed a button, releasing the two wrist restraints that had been pinning Seven.

The young woman stepped away from the restraining wall in a gesture reminiscent of how she disconnected from her Borg alcove after a typical regeneration cycle. Then she clasped her hands behind her back, which of course made her bare breasts jut out more through the slash in her dress.

"Would you like me to get naked now?" she asked politely, cocking her head inquisitively.

Janeway felt unbidden flutters in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed back her unseemly reaction and squeaked out a "yes."

Seven's expression softened. "I will comply," she vowed with quiet intensity.

Eyes fixed on Janeway's, Seven reached up to each shoulder and pushed the straps down and off her arms. Then she shimmied her body out of the rest of the tattered garment, kicked her shoes off, and casually stepped out of the dress. And with a final maneuver that seemed intentionally seductive in its display, she held the dress off to the side and let it drop dejectedly to the floor.

Kathryn was absolutely captivated despite herself, a fond expression washing over her face as she looked at Seven. She approached slowly and as Kathryn asked, "would you turn around?"

The young woman was surprised by the request but did not hesitate, trusting Kathryn Janeway with every fiber of her being. When she had her back to the captain, she felt the familiar fingers pulling the pins out of her hair, understanding only then what Kathryn had intended. She shook her head to loosen the tresses and then felt the fingers tangling in her silky golden strands. Both women luxuriated in the momentary contact.

Then, too quickly, Kathryn pulled back and became Arachnia again. "All right. Time for a little 'friendly persuasion'," she said as Seven turned back around to face her. "Lie down over there," she instructed, motioning toward the Cradle. "And spread everything," she added suggestively.

Both women felt another titter of excitement charge its way towards their respective groins. Its effects made Seven almost lose her footing in the process of crossing to the metal table. The Borg also noticed an unfamiliar wetness between her legs, which made her feel suddenly self-conscious, particularly when she realized that this wetness would become visible to the captain once the young woman "spread everything," as she had been ordered.

Unable to do anything about it, she repressed her embarrassment, lying down on the table and placing her feet into the restraints on either side. Their positioning made her knees bend back towards her body, opening her up a great deal more than she had anticipated. She swallowed back her dismay again and placed her wrists in the corresponding restraints by her head.

Janeway closed and pretended to lock the restraints at Seven's feet first, smiling as she caught sight of the young woman's predicament. Then she came around and leaned close to Seven's ear as she also pretended to lock the wrist restraints. "You're so wet," she rasped. "I'm very relieved that you're aroused by what I'm doing to you, Seven. But you must tell me if I do something you don't like. Understood?"

The young woman nodded as she took a relaxing breath, grateful for the inadvertent explanation Kathryn had just given her. She wondered if the more experienced woman had sensed her momentary uncertainty. And then she didn't wonder about anything at all as she felt Kathryn's hands settle themselves hotly on her ribs and slide slowly up her sides. She gasped audibly when they reached her breasts and clasped her nipples tightly again.

"I've got you now, my dear," Kathryn tried to act, but she managed less and less of Arachnia as the feel of Seven's bare flesh drove her to distraction again.

"Don't! Stop!" Seven yelled at Arachnia, actually sounding a bit in character. "Don't stop," she whispered to Kathryn, lacing her command with so much breathy wantonness that the tone made Kathryn's toes curl.

They continued like this for deliciously long moments, losing track of time as Kathryn earnestly kneaded and fondled and tweaked the dark-pink nubs and fleshy mounds of Borg bosom before her, Seven responding with mock protest, which became increasingly more difficult to sustain.

"Mmmm, no--oh!.....uh, stop?"

And then--because the Borg jutted out her breasts in desperate invitation, because it seemed like the natural thing to do, because the captain couldn't help herself anymore--Kathryn climbed partway up onto the table, bent over the lanky Borg, and politely chewed on one of the offered nipples, sending tendrils of delight through Seven.

"Oh, Yes!" the Borg cried out. "I mean, 'No!'," she corrected herself with less enthusiasm, taking a shuddering breath that belied her protest.

Kathryn laughed, grateful that the plump nipple in her mouth would muffle the sound. Then remembering the imagizers--and prodded by Seven's apparent excitement--Kathryn allowed herself to become more outwardly aggressive in her ministrations. After all, she reasoned, Arachnia is supposed to be 'having her way with this female'.

"You're delicious, my sweet," she emoted between mouthfuls. Then she sucked noisily on the other nipple for several long moments, allowing it to become a deep and impressive red.

Seven rolled her head back and forth in real ecstasy, her feigned objections becoming weaker. She nevertheless tried valiantly to play her part. "This is wrong.......Isn't it?"

"Sinfully wrong, my dear," Kathryn agreed, picking up her cue. "And I'm going to continue devouring you until I've tasted every luscious centimeter of your nubile flesh. You are trapped in my web," she added metaphorically before literally trapping Seven's beleaguered nipple in a spider's bite. She pulled up on the captive nipple and showed her teeth for effect, making the bite seem harder than it actually was.

Seven bit her own lip--quite hard, actually--trying to stifle another ecstatic 'Yes!' that was threatening to erupt from her throat. It came out as a heartfelt whimper, which both women allowed would play realistically enough in this scenario.

The young woman had begun feeling an almost painful longing in the area between her legs, which had gotten impossibly wet. She suddenly realized how desperate she was for Kathryn to touch her there, and she wondered if there was a way she could "use her guile" to redirect the captain's attentions and move the inspection onto that more intimate area. Given Arachnia's character--and certain that Kathryn would not break character--she decided to use a form of what the Doctor called "reverse psychology," pleading with the queen to refrain from touching precisely that part of her anatomy that Seven wanted touched.

The young woman took a breath in anticipation of her next line but was stymied, suddenly realizing that she didn't quite know what to call that area. She instinctively felt that the terms she knew were too clinical for Constance Goodheart's character.....and Kathryn Janeway's sensibilities. But she had never had occasion to learn euphemisms for that body part. In fact, the only times she could remember that area being referenced in so-called mixed company were in the Doctor's lessons regarding "personal hygiene." She hoped the reference would not be too oblique.

"Oh, no, not that!" she began emoting. "Please, Queen Arachnia. Do not devour my 'personal hygiene area'!"

Janeway shot her head up and nearly fell off the Cradle of Persuasion in shock.

She understood immediately what Seven was saying.....and why. She would have laughed at the wording but was too taken aback. Despite her earnest desire to help Seven explore her humanity, even her newfound sexuality, she just hadn't been expecting to engage in that particular act so soon--and least of all in this setting--with the young woman (who suddenly seemed a little less innocent).

Unfortunately, Seven's tactic was too clever. With the threat of that act now openly implied and recorded on Chaotica's imagizers, Arachnia could not be seen to back down from it.

Having regained her wits, Kathryn shot Seven an accusatory look and was only mildly mollified to see that Seven had the good grace to return a sheepish grin......one deeply tinged, of course, with flagrant desire.

"Oh, yes! That!" she finally shot back, her tone a low menace that was more evocative of Captain Janeway than of Queen Arachnia.

Seven shuddered, in fear this time....

Kathryn slid off the side of the table where she had been leaning partly over Seven to reach her breasts. As she did so, she noticed a panel with several controls. "You know, my dear," she said in character, inspecting the table for the first time, "I don't think we've been using this Cradle of Persuasion to full effect." The scientist in her couldn't resist the temptation to experiment. "Let's see what this 'Titillator' does," she announced aloud, pressing the button with the curious label.

Just then, two tendrils with suction cups on the ends came down from the top of the cradle and attached themselves noisily to Seven's nipples, pulling up and 'sucking' on them in a relentlessly precise, mechanical rhythm that instantly set the equally precise and mechanical Borg to moaning.

"Oh, my," Janeway declared, deeply intrigued--and not a little aroused--by the site of those appendages manipulating Seven's nipples and by the sound of Seven's own, very vocal responses to that manipulation. "Shall we see what these other buttons do?" she asked politely.

"Mmm," Seven nodded vehemently, passed the point of caring whether her affirmation was in character or not.

"This one is a 'Sanitizer'," Kathryn explained as she pressed another button. Instantly, two small robotic hands with rubbery fingertips came up on either side of Seven's sex and pulled her open while a third mechanical arm with two small hose attachments came up between her legs and began spraying a jet of warm water along the length of her "personal hygiene area." Each hose then inserted itself indelicately in the nearest opening--one above, one below--and pumped a steady stream of water deep inside the Borg.

Seven squirmed with unexpected delight.

The hoses retracted themselves and were replaced by tiny vacuum tubes that syphoned off all the water with loud, sucking noises, one of the tubes deliberately lingering on the little knot of flesh at the top of Seven's sex.

"How.....nifty," Kathryn observed, somewhat at a loss for words as her own body squirmed in sympathy.....or was it envy? As the last of the robotic arms folded itself back into the table--leaving the area clean and pink and practically buffed--the captain leaned in for another private word with the Borg. "I'm not too sure about these other devices, Seven. The labels are more ambiguous, some even sound sinister, and with the safeties off, I don't want to risk it."

Seven seemed not to hear her. "Kathryn," she called with quiet intensity, "I --"

The captain paused with genuine concern and pretended to nuzzle the blonde's neck so that she could get still closer for this private exchange, hoping that the imagizer would not be capable of recording their hushed words.

"What is it Seven?" she asked into the Borg's ear.

"It is getting more difficult....to role-play," Seven whispered back.

Kathryn smiled knowingly. "It's all right," she soothed. "I'll take care of you."

She started to pull back, but Seven forestalled her retreat. "Kathryn?"

"Yes?" she said, looking inquisitively into the gentle blue of Seven's eyes.

"I--," Seven swallowed, dismayed by the intensity of emotions she suddenly felt for the captain and moved beyond comprehension by the aesthetic play of blue and grey in the sagacious gaze that met her own, more innocent one. "I.....like this," she said. She averted her eyes in slight embarrassment. She had meant to say 'I like you', but she felt suddenly inadequate given her inexperience and uncertain again about the captain's feelings for her.

Kathryn merely nodded, not quite picking up on the intensity of Seven's feelings but understanding that this was at least momentous for her.

"Well," she declared as Arachnia, "now that you are being tended to above and have been so adequately readied below, I believe it's time for the next course of my feast. Don't be surprised that you're enjoying yourself, my dear," she continued, beginning, for the sake of Chaotica's imagizers, to explain away Seven's lack of protest. "I dabbled a few drops of my irresistible pheromones on myself earlier today. The trace of my sweet scent in your nostrils now is enough to make you my love slave for several days."

Seven picked up her cue beautifully this time. "Yes," she purred, "I am yours, my queen."

"Yes, you are," Kathryn affirmed in return, delighted to see Seven's acting finally improving. She positioned herself at the foot of the table and began spinning a silky strand of kisses down the inside of Seven's left thigh.

"Yes," Seven exhaled again, writhing in genuine ecstasy at the effect of Kathryn's lips on her flesh.

"Yes," Kathryn echoed, as she reared up and then descended again, weaving a matching path of kisses down Seven's right thigh. When she reached the tender joint, she dabbled the tip of her tongue experimentally along the hollow between the leg and Seven's sex.

The young woman gasped, sensing instinctively her captain would be repeating that gesture in still more sensitive parts of her anatomy.

Kathryn could smell Seven's arousal, and despite the cleaning of the area moments ago, she could already see the young woman's essence oozing along the folds of sensitive skin, making them glisten again with the luster of excitement. She sensed that the young woman was in real torment now, desperately needing release, and Kathryn was just as desperate to give her that release, especially before Chaotica's return. So she brought her hands up and laid her fingers on either side of Seven's sex--mimicking what the robotic hands had done moments ago--and then gently pulled apart the sticky folds.

Seven gasped when she felt the cool, dry air on her engorged flesh. And in the next instant, she felt Kathryn's mouth hot and wet and hungry on her sex.

"Oh, my Kath--" she began, and then catching herself, intoned, "my queen!"

Kathryn smiled, the sharp edge of her teeth raking gently against the tender knot at the top of Seven's flesh. Despite the impropriety of it, she had imagined making love to the beautiful young Borg on countless lonely nights. And here she was, finally indulging her fantasy and desperately enjoying herself, despite the circumstances, thrilled at how responsive the young woman was.....and how truly delicious.

She pressed her tongue into the humid opening and wrapped her mouth tightly against Seven, rubbing her upper lip tantalizingly against the nub. Then she lapped languidly from bottom to top, stroking the entire expanse of Seven's "personal hygiene area." She repeated the maneuver several times, each time lingering a little longer at each of the openings, gently sucking the tender lips, and generally making the young woman squirm and buck from the intimate attention that was being lavished on her.

Seven was moaning uncontrollably now, no longer able to formulate actual words, which Kathryn decided was just as well. She doubted the Borg had the presence of mind to stay in character, particularly when Kathryn's tongue began to concentrate on the hardened center. And when she lapped at it mercilessly, rotating the tip of her tongue around the center and then raking across it, tip to tip, Seven cried out incoherently.

The erect little nub seemed to stiffen a bit more as Kathryn began to suck on it gently. She was surprised at how well it filled her mouth, enough that she was able to grip the tiny shaft with her lips and simultaneously rake her tongue across the tip inside. That maneuver made Seven jolt, nearing the edge of her climax, until finally, Kathryn began quivering her tongue against the pearl, smiling to herself as the tiny, delicate gem picked up the rhythm in a wild frenzy.

Seven screamed. To Kathryn's relief, it was not as piercing as the last time. And it was considerably more ardent, following a crescendo of "oh, Oh, OH's."



 

Act III

Kathryn Janeway gazed fondly at the peaceful features of her young charge, the former Borg drone she had snatched from the obscurity of the Collective, grateful to discover in the blossoming human female a wit and charm and innocence and humor and mile-long streak of pride that made her so unique, and impossibly more beautiful, especially now with that hint of satisfaction sweetly curling her full, red lips. Kathryn pressed a kiss into the corner of those lips.

"Seven?" she whispered gently, still wary of the recorders.

The young woman did not stir, so Kathryn kissed her again, this time pressing her lips gently against the blonde temple, encouraging her into consciousness.

"Seven," she called again softly, "you need to wake up now."

The young woman inhaled.

"That's it. Quietly now. The imagizers are still running."

Seven's lids fluttered open, her lashes casting long shadows on her ruddy cheeks as the skylight shined from her eyes. Framed by her golden hair, her face, at that moment, appeared more colorful than Kathryn could ever remember seeing it, and it made her heart clutch in response. She wanted desperately to wrap her arms around the young woman, who was still recovering from her experience, but Chaotica would be back soon, and she wanted Seven alert--and dressed--by then.

Having already disabled the cradle gadgetry and restraints, she urged the young woman into a sitting position and then, regretfully, became Arachnia again.

"You were lovely, my dear, but I need a little rest now. Go put on a little something alluring but a tad more discreet--I want the pleasure of unwrapping you all over again."

"Yes, Majesty," Seven responded half-heartedly. She was weary of the role-playing, especially when at the moment all she wanted was to grab Kathryn, take that ridiculous wig and dress off of her, and make that small, delicate body of hers shake with the same ecstasy she had just given Seven. Since Kathryn had become Arachnia again with such facility, however, the young woman began to wonder if Kathryn hadn't just been role-playing all along. And then she felt certain that that was exactly what Kathryn had been doing. She wondered if these were the "emotional repercussions" Kathryn had warned her about. The thought depressed her.

Head fallen, she crossed to the dressing area to which Kathryn had directed her, tidied herself up, and began inspecting the garments she found there, slightly distracted from her misery as she tried to decipher how they were supposed to be worn.

"Majesty?"

"Yes?"

Seven poked her head around the dressing screen and wiggled her index finger at Kathryn in a "come here" gesture. The captain obliged. When she was near enough, the young woman whispered, "I am uncertain how this attire is worn."

Kathryn smiled and whispered back. "It's a harem outfit," she explained, "That goes on your bottom, of course," she said, indicating the flimsy, panty-like sheath, which the Borg promptly pulled on.

"And those are your leggings," she explained, pointing to the sheer lengths of fabric. "Straddle it at the crotch and tie the top around the sides of your hips."

Seven complied.

"Yes, like that......Now tie off the cuffs at your ankles."

"Ah," Seven responded, pleased to have that part of the puzzle solved. "And this is the top?" she guessed, picking up a bra-like portion of the garment.

"That's right."

Seven tried to fasten it around herself. "It is too small," she declared.

"Of course it is," Kathryn complimented, unable to keep from smiling. "Try this one."

As Seven looped her arms into the straps, Kathryn ducked around behind her, grabbing the ends and fastening the top for her. She meant it as an offer of assistance but quickly recognized it for the indulgence it was, enjoying the intimacy of dressing the young woman she had just introduced to the throes of human sexuality. She smiled to herself as Seven turned back, and then she openly admired as the young woman reached into the tight-fitting top and adjusted herself into each cup.

Seven caught the inspection and blushed. And then she remembered she was upset with Kathryn. "Is this sufficient....my queen?" She asked.

For both their sakes, Kathryn ignored the subtle sarcasm in Seven's weary tone and bantered back with a bit of flirtation. "Hardly 'sufficient', my sweet.....but then, that's its appeal." She graced Seven with a winning grin that showed all of her teeth, a rare blessing that warmed Seven to her core and made her smile back with her own rare blessing.

They were grinning at each other like that when Chaotica and his men sauntered in, loud and sweaty and grunting with triumph.

"Well, my dear, our campaign was a success."

"Naturally, Majesty," Janeway responded, veiling her disappointment at his return and feigning cloying regard for him.

"But what's this?" the villain inquired. "Have you finished with your prisoner already?" he said surprised.

"Only with the 'first course'."

"Ah," he said approvingly. "And was she every bit as delicious as she looks."

"Yes," Kathryn answered sincerely, making Seven blush again.

"I see you've dressed her in one of my harem costumes."

Seven willfully misunderstood the evil fiend. "This apparel is for females; it would not suit you."

Kathryn bit back her laughter; Chaotica's men did not.

"What?! I will not be ridiculed by you, woman!" Seething with anger that Seven should mock him, particularly in front of his men, the villain became menacing: "Proton or no Proton, you are my slave now."

"No!" Kathryn yelled, stepping in front of Seven and trying to shield her, which Seven considered was a rather illogical maneuver since the Borg was far more capable of protecting herself than the diminutive captain was.

"Out of my way, Arachnia," Chaotica spat, no longer charming as he shoved the small woman aside.

Kathryn lost her balance and stumbled into a pedestal. As if in slow motion, she watched its crystal contents slip off the surface and begin to tumble to the floor. With a quick-flash reflex, Kathryn miraculously snatched it up in her hand before it hit bottom. When she opened her fingers, she found a small, brown vial containing a viscous liquid......Arachnia's pheromones!

She returned her attention to Chaotica and his men, noticing that they had subdued Seven and were once again shackling her wrists to the restraints on the wall.

Kathryn caught Seven's eye and held up the vial behind the men's backs. The Borg gave a short nod that went unnoticed by everyone but Kathryn. Then the captain made broad gestures with her hands, as if pleading, and then motioned to Seven, indicating that she wanted the Borg to resume her role-playing and beg for mercy.

Seven understood and complied. "Noooooo!!! Let go of me!!! Somebody help me!!! Please!!!"

Kathryn was stunned. There were actual tears in Seven's eyes and in her heartfelt cries. And the realism made the captain's own eyes sting with tears. She swallowed hard and tried to focus on her mission.

According to Paris, one whiff from Arachnia's pheromones was supposed to make Chaotica her pawn, but the last time she used it, Chaotica wasn't near enough . Consequently, the potion took effect on one of his henchmen instead. Kathryn intended to get it right this time. So while Seven distracted the men with her cries for help, Janeway sidled closer to Chaotica. Then, when she was barely a meter away, she removed the stopper and liberally doused herself with the intoxicating liquid, fanning herself to drive the wafting scent towards Chaotica.

The evil fiend sniffed noisily. "My queen!" he exclaimed, clearly under the influence. He opened his arms in anticipation of an embrace and made a move towards Arachnia.

"No," Seven blurted. "She is mine!"

Kathryn snapped her head in the Borg's direction.

She was looking at the captain intently, nostrils flaring in deep intakes of air, and Janeway considered that Seven's acting had vastly improved in the last hour, though she wondered what Seven's plan was in pretending to be affected, too, by Arachnia's pheromones.

Chaotica bristled visibly at the young woman's pronouncement and then shook the mood off, donning an imperious sort of sneer. "Pity you can't claim her, my dear, not while you're in those shackles."

Seven turned and gazed at Chaotica with a combination of tedium and annoyance. Then she huffed indignantly as she pulled her wrists almost effortlessly from the restraints, snapping the shackles into pieces.

Chaotica balked. "Guards, seize her!"

The Borg stepped forward and backhanded the first, oncoming guard in one smooth stroke, sending him flying some ten meters in one direction. In the next instant, she balanced herself gracefully on her left leg as she quickly dispatched the second guard with a swift sidekick of her right leg, sending him ten meters in the other direction. Then she grabbed the third and fourth guards and pounded them together, rendering both immediately unconscious.

Chaotica's second-in-command stood his ground--although just barely--in front of his master, which brought him up short since Seven was headed in that direction. Once she had him within arm's length, of course, he was quickly dispatched with one decisive blow of the Borg-enhanced hand. That left nothing between the bodacious Borg and the cowardly Chaotica, a circumstance that vexed the evil villain enormously.

"Stay away, you!" he cried out futilely, as he backed away from Seven. He tried to elicit Janeway's aid. "My queen, I implore you, use your influence over this female to call her off."

Janeway had to smother a laugh. But because it was in her nature to protect obviously defenseless creatures from harm--even if they were the Scourge of the Cosmos--she called for a measure of restraint: "Seven, don't hurt him.....much."

The Borg's lips curled slightly, which made Chaotica recoil. He suddenly felt the wall against his back and groped pointlessly for any means of escape. Eyes wide with fright as Seven approached, he sank to the floor and curled up in a ball, trying to shield himself. The few centimeters of exposed vulnerability at the nape of his neck, however, were all Seven needed to render him unconscious with one efficient chop.

The blonde turned away from the crumpled form and eyed the captain triumphantly.....looking remarkably fetching in her suggestive attire.

Janeway was pleased. "Come here, Seven," she called, wanting to give the young woman a congratulatory pat on the back......well, possibly also a hug. She felt a little nervous, however, as she watched the Borg saunter towards her with a glint of something uncharacteristically animalistic in her eyes. "Seven? Are you are right?"

The young woman stopped a mere breath away before answering. "Oh, yes......my queen."

Kathryn had barely finished swallowing in nervous apprehension at the lustful tones when the young woman pulled her into a tight embrace, bent her backwards, and kissed Kathryn Janeway possessively on the lips, igniting a passion that the older woman had been smothering for six long years.

Janeway the captain tried to resist this temptation as well, but Kathryn the woman surrendered to her heart, explaining to her two selves that resistance truly is futile. Despite the aggressiveness of the Borg's gesture, moreover, Seven's kiss was soft and sweet, intense in its devotion, and so electric that Kathryn could feel herself frizzle and curl from head to toe.

She moaned helplessly against Seven's hungry lips, which seemed to inflame the young woman all the more. "My queen," she breathed, "I have wanted you for so long. Undress for me. Let my eyes absorb every millimeter of your naked beauty. Let my lips smear adoration across your body. Let my hands knead devotion into every gram of your flesh......I need to copulate with you."

While the last phrase was quintessentially Seven, the uncharacteristic poetry in the rest of the plea alerted Kathryn that something was awry. The young woman was clearly affected by the pheromones. Perhaps something in her partly Borg physiology made her susceptible to the scent, even if it was photonic. Given that Seven was under the influence of a drug-like substance, therefore, part of Kathryn sensed that she should be driving the young woman off. Kathryn's own starved libido, however, instead drove away all rational thought.

And Seven was almost beyond control at this point, anyway, groping and kissing the captain with a blind intensity that seemed to brook no resistance. She snatched the wig off Kathryn and fluffed the auburn tresses, tangling her fingers in their silk as she kissed Kathryn still more deeply. In the next instant, she began reaching for a fastening at the back of Kathryn's dress, fingers fumbling underneath the enormous, spider-web collar.

"It's on the side," Kathryn murmured against full lips.

Seven continued to grope at the nape of Kathryn's neck.

"It's on the side," Kathryn tried again between breath-sapping kisses.

"Hmm?" Seven asked through her frustration. Then she yanked viciously at the dress until the fabric was rent in two.

Kathryn pulled away from the Borg's muffling lips. "I was trying to explain that the zipper was on the side," she elaborated belatedly.

"What zipper?" Seven queried disinterestedly, smashing her lips against Kathryn's again.

The captain felt the remaining tatters of her clothing slink off her frame until she was naked. Then she felt herself being lowered onto the smattering of silk-covered, down pillows and bolts of satin that made up the bedding in Chaotica's chamber. It was impossibly cool and soothing to the touch, like lying on a cloud. And when, in the next moment, Seven let her thinly-clad body settle gently over Kathryn's, it was impossibly warm and comforting, like lying under a sun with gold-spun hair. Kathryn moaned in simple bliss, luxuriating between the layers of cool heat that were silk and satin and Seven.

The young woman reached down with her right hand and pulled the sheer fabric of her leggings aside so she could nestle the bare flesh of her right thigh between Kathryn's legs. The area was impossibly wet, and though she couldn't understand what was driving her to do these things, something in her cortical implant, some distant memory, explained to her that this wetness indicated that Kathryn was aroused. This knowledge made her still more desperate to excite this intimate region of Kathryn's warm, beautiful body.

Instinctively, Seven began to press her thigh in slow lunges against Kathryn's wetness, making the smaller woman moan in delight. All the while, Seven kept kissing Kathryn passionately, unable to detach herself from the sweet taste of those thin, red lips, especially when they parted and admitted Seven's tongue.

It was then that Seven came to her senses, momentarily disoriented but feeling, despite that, unaccountably safe, anchored to the sweet taste of rough, wet, heat inside her mouth. And when she pulled back and saw Kathryn's face, and the ardent expression, she knew she was home.

"Kathryn," she exhaled.

Kathryn smiled in return, understanding that Seven was no longer under the influence of the pheromones and pleased to have her back.....and lying in her arms.

"Seven," she breathed against full Borg lips. Then she captured them again, luxuriating in the taste and electricity of the contact.

After another short while, the young woman became aware of the two hard nubs pressing intrusively against her chest.....Kathryn's breasts, she remembered. She finally tore herself away from the sweet sensation of lips to bring her mouth down to Kathryn's surprisingly plump nipples. Seven kissed them fondly and licked them gently, swirling her tongue around one of the tips. Then she kissed across the captain's chest and pulled the other nipple forcefully into her mouth, marveling at how much it filled her.

Kathryn's nipples were stiff with arousal but also remarkably pliant, seeming to alter their size and shape to mold themselves into Seven's caresses, whether she was pinching them tightly between her fingers or sucking them hungrily into her mouth. She liked sucking them best of all, enjoying the slightly salty flavor of Kathryn's flesh and how the taste made her salivate. And the pliancy of Kathryn's nipples made her want to chew on them, a reflex that she did not repress, gently pressing her molars into the sensitive tips until Kathryn was writhing from the ecstasy of the stimulation.

Seven spent long moments sucking noisily on Kathryn's nipples until they were a very deep red and deliciously sore. Then she pulled back a little to look at them. She gently squeezed Kathryn's breasts, making the peaks more pronounced. Looking up, she caught Kathryn watching her intently and smiled sweetly.

"I like this," she said.

"I know. I like this, too," Kathryn admitted.

Seven stared intently into Kathryn's eyes.

"I like you," she said.

Kathryn swallowed down the intensity of her emotions. "I know," she managed after a moment. "I like you, too."

They smiled again at each other, warmed by their mutual affection, no longer masking their emotions, no longer role-playing.

Then, eyes locked on Kathryn's, Seven resumed groping her breasts again, squeezing them tightly and rubbing her thumbs over the tips, all the while watching Kathryn's reactions. Kathryn arched up into the fondling fingers and invited still more contact. Seven complied, wrapping her lips around the entire peak of Kathryn's breast, taking in both the nipple and the dark pink ring around it. She sucked forcefully on the mouthful with languorous intent, giving no indication that she intended ever to stop feasting, even though the nipple was becoming quite sore from the hungry attention.

Kathryn was past the point of caring. She looked down, excited by the site of her nipple and areola disappearing completely into Seven's hot, wet mouth. She loved watching Seven's jaw flex rhythmically around the fleshy peak, lips making moist, smacking noises as they tried to maintain enough suction to keep so much of Kathryn's tit inside. Seven moaned into the flesh, an expression of quiet contentment slightly curling her lips. She was clearly enjoying herself, and Kathryn was delighting in the tableau before her. She brought her hands up and linked her fingers together under her own head, tilting it up in casual comfort so she could spend long moments looking down at her bosom, patiently watching Seven gorge herself there.

Each time Seven drew her in, Kathryn could feel the delicious tugging at the tip of her nipple and the sharp edge of teeth encircling her further up. And in-between, Seven's tongue kept lavishing wet heat against the pink flesh as it tasted the breast over and over.

"That feels so good, Seven," she encouraged.

The Borg moaned and began sucking a little harder and louder.

Kathryn inhaled sharply through her teeth. "Oh, yes, my love. Like that. It feels exquisite."

Seven was concentrating completely on Kathryn's right nipple, and as the left one began demanding attention, Kathryn reached down and started to pinch herself, roughly tweaking that nipple, too, to try to match the delicious torment to which its partner was being subjected. Seven caught the movement and brought up her free hand to replace Kathryn's, which allowed Kathryn to link her fingers together again under her head and resume her casual monitoring of Seven's generous attention.

The Borg was pinching her left nipple so tightly that it was reduced to a thin sliver as it was rolled back and forth between thumb and forefinger. And now Seven had started to bite down on the right nipple and pull up, so that Kathryn could clearly see the sore nub trapped almost painfully between the sharp teeth. Then she alternated the sucking and the biting, taking in the entire peak with hungry intensity and then using her teeth to pull up on just the nipple. After several repetitions, she pulled up and paused in one of her bites to rake her tongue across the tip of the nipple as it was caught between her teeth. The sensation made Kathryn shudder.

"Do you know how much I'm enjoying this?"

Seven pulled her mouth away momentarily to answer, making a loud, smacking sound as the nipple released itself from the suction and bounced back to position. "Only if you tell me," she said, before devouring the nipple again with renewed intensity.

"I love what you're doing to me."

"I'm not doing this too much?" Seven asked with concern but pausing only for a moment between mouthfuls.

"No.....never. I love the way it almost hurts."

Seven used her molars to chew a little on the nipple.

"Yes.....that's nice. I love watching you do this. I love seeing my nipples disappear inside your mouth--it's so intimate."

Seven sucked in the entire peak again, still more forcefully.

"I love the indelicate noises."

Seven laughed around her mouthful and got intentionally noisier, slurping the pliant peak in even more. She was visibly salivating around the nipple, taking in Kathryn's taste, which gave Kathryn the arousing sense that she was being consumed by Seven. The intense physical sensation of suction at her sore nipple, coupled with the site and sound and sense of being eaten by Seven, sent Kathryn into another frenzy. It was then she realized how completely she wanted to be consumed by her.

"Seven," Kathryn rasped, "Please! I want you to feast on me."

Seven understood the meaning and excitedly remembered that Kathryn had other intoxicating flavors to offer.

"Oh, Kathryn.....Yes!"

The Borg descended, stealing nips and kisses along the way as if to leave a trail for her to follow home. Except home was where she was headed. She reached the juncture between Kathryn's legs and parted the smaller woman's limbs, fluffing up the surrounding pillows so that Kathryn could rest her legs comfortably as she opened up wide to let Seven inside.

Once she had prepared Kathryn, Seven did not hesitate, the scent of Kathryn's arousal too delicious to resist. So she bent down, spread the lips of Kathryn's auburn-haired sex, and pressed her hungry lips into the sticky wetness, taking in the flavor in several long, titillating strokes with her rough, wet tongue.

"Oh, Seven!" Kathryn gasped at the contact.

Kathryn was impossibly hot and wet, like lava flowing from some massive, geological event. And the way Kathryn's sex was already quaking, Seven guessed that a major eruption was imminent. She did not want to delay Kathryn's climax, but nor did she wish to rush through this experience. After all, this was the most intimate part of Kathryn's body, a part that was only ever shared with a doctor--out of necessity--and a lover--out of desire. As Kathryn's new lover, Seven wanted to study and explore this area, to learn everything there was to know about it, to discover its secrets.

She kissed the knot gently and then pulled back to study the folds. She gently pulled one out until it was completely unfurled and then licked along its sensitive surface. Kathryn gasped. These little excitements seemed to bring a fresh flood of moisture from Kathryn's opening, which drew Seven's attention now, making her wonder what it would be like actually to be inside Kathryn. She did not hesitate to find out. Instead, she pulled the folds apart again and then gently slid two fingers inside the captain.

"Yes, Seven."

"You are so small, Kathryn," Seven marveled. "So delicate."

"Not so delicate," Kathryn countered.

The Borg understood her meaning and instantly pressed a third finger deep inside the tight opening.

"Yes. Like that. Deep inside me, my love."

Seven complied, shifting her weight onto her left elbow so she could have more freedom of movement with her right arm. She began by pushing deeply into Kathryn with the three fingers already inside her. Then she pulled out slowly until only her fingertips remained, just inside the sensitive rim. She stroked her fingers there languorously and then slowly penetrated Kathryn again, pushing in all the way once more. This time, she twisted her fingers inside Kathryn in gently insistent rotations, as if boring into her.

"Mmm," Kathryn cried, her body responding with yet another rush of moisture.

Seven pulled out again, this time only half way, and then penetrated more hurriedly than before. Kathryn gasped, apparently enjoying the less delicate thrust. So Seven began to pump in a rather more urgent rhythm, thumping against Kathryn's sex as she fondled her intimately with those three fingers.

Kathryn hitched her legs up more and pulled them farther apart, opening herself up as much as possible to Seven's delicious invasion. "More, Seven......Please," she cried urgently.

Seven did not hesitate. She had the index, middle, and fourth fingers of her right hand inside Kathryn. She now pulled them out and added her pinky finger, curling all four fingers tightly together and then pressing them into the opening of Kathryn's sex.

There was surprisingly little resistance, and when they were deep inside, almost up to the second knuckle, Seven felt Kathryn flexing herself around their girth as if trying to pull more in. Seven obliged, pressing in gently but letting Kathryn set the pace.

"Yes, my love. Like that. Slowly," she cautioned.

Seven had no problem complying. She was enthralled by the look of her hand disappearing inside Kathryn's sex. She enjoyed watching her fingers squeeze themselves languidly inside the hot, wet opening. And she desperately enjoyed the sensation, the tightness and intermittent flexing around her fingers that communicated when Kathryn was ready for more.

Kathryn paused for a moment, more to catch her breath than to accommodate herself to the girth of Seven's fingers. Seven took the opportunity to lap up more of Kathryn's juices from around her fingers, enjoying the salt-sweet taste. She then moved up and stroked along the tender knot, kissing it gently, over and over again.

Kathryn shuddered and flexed again, which let Seven press in another millimeter. Then Kathryn made herself relax around Seven, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, some of the resistance around Seven's fingers leaving as well. Seven understood, and with one final push, pressed her fingers in passed the second knuckle and up to the middle of her palm, stopping only when the joint of her thumb abutted Kathryn's opening.

"Oh!"

It was said in pleasurable surprise, and Seven understood that, slowly kissing the hollows next to Kathryn's sex and nuzzling the down as she waited for Kathryn to adjust again to the new girth inside her.

Missing the sensation of Seven's mouth sucking her, Kathryn brought her hands up to her nipples and began tweaking them again. And when the renewed titillation sent another gush of moisture to her stretched sex, she felt ready once more for Seven.

The Borg picked up her cue from the way Kathryn had started flexing impatiently around her. With a fond kiss to the sensitive nub, she pulled back and began slowly pumping her hand. She did not pull out much at first. Since the girth of the second knuckles made it more difficult to squeeze them in again, she stopped short of pulling them out, pumping barely a centimeter out and back into Kathryn.

As Kathryn's sex responded with more moisture and less tightness, however, Seven was able to pull out past the knuckles and then push back in with increasing ease. Before she knew it, she was vigorously pumping the entire length of her hand, to the middle of her palm, in and out of Kathryn, the opening so well lubricated that there was only a little resistance, the kind that elicited ecstasy.....and made moist, sucking sounds.

Kathryn had never felt herself so opened and stretched, so desperate for a lover to fill her. And that it was a hand filling her made it seem more intimate somehow--a very private petting with someone she trusted implicitly. That surprised her a little. She hadn't expected to feel quite so comfortable, so quickly with Seven of Nine. After all, quite apart from the whole issue of emotional repercussions--which they had both agreed to deal with later--Seven's inexperience and Borg strength could result in serious damage to Kathryn if they weren't sufficiently careful.

And in other ways, Seven had committed acts that directly challenged Kathryn's authority and called the young woman's trustworthiness into question. In fact, she had broken direct orders more than anyone else on Voyager. Had even made Kathryn feel abandoned by her--when she chose to remain behind on that Borg scout ship. Of course, she had done that--had in effect sacrificed herself--to save Voyager and its crew. In fact, except for the captain herself, Seven had been directly responsible for saving Voyager more times than anyone else on the starship.

Furthermore, Seven wasn't directly in Starfleet, and, as a former Borg drone, she was still working out the very complicated issue of her individuality. These two facts made her sacrifices for Voyager's sake all the more noteworthy--made her decisions to obey orders all the more precious.....because they were decisions, something the young woman chose to do, and often for Kathryn's sake. It was this profound change in the Borg's nature--these visible sacrifices--that had ultimately won Kathryn over, enabling her to trust Seven without hesitation where the ship was concerned. And there was no question that in their more personal exchange now, in these intimacies they were sharing, Seven, for all her inexperience, was gentle beyond words, infinitely patient, and amazingly attuned to Kathryn's rhythms and needs. She was loving in her attention.

"Seven," Kathryn called, groping for a more sublime contact.

Seven instinctively reached around Kathryn's right leg with her free arm--hugging the thigh to herself--and grabbed Kathryn's hand, holding it with gentle firmness. Kathryn squeezed back, anchoring herself. It was only then that Kathryn began to climax

At last, her body quivered with the long-rumbling eruption, hips bucking off the pillows in rhythm with Seven's pumping hand. And then in one final thrust upward, Kathryn froze in mid-air, body rigid with orgasm and voice calling out: "Oh, Seven!"

After that long, motionless moment of ecstasy, Kathryn Janeway's body went limp.......almost completely.

Seven of Nine looked up and frowned.

"Kathryn?" she called out experimentally.

Nothing.

"Kathryn?" she tried again.

Still nothing.

She looked down towards where her right hand was still nestled--actually trapped, Kathryn's muscles having constricted during her climax and still squeezing rather tightly.

Seven sighed.

"Kathryn?" she tried again. "Kathryn, please wake up."

She extricated her left hand, which Kathryn had been holding, and put it on the smaller woman's stomach, rubbing it gently to try to wake her and then shaking her progressively stronger.

"Kathryn, wake up!"

There was no response.

"Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S. Voyager," she called out formally, "this is Seven of Nine. I order you to wake up!"

Seven didn't mean to adopt that tone, but if Kathryn the woman wouldn't respond to a lover's call, she hoped that Janeway the Starfleet officer, at least, would break through the haze of unconsciousness to respond to a voice of command. Unfortunately, that tactic didn't work either.

Seven was starting to feel uncomfortable--the way young Naomi Wildman once described feeling when she had broken a toy she had been playing with. Similar pangs of guilt were fingering their way coldly through the pit of Seven's stomach. She felt "in trouble" herself, wondering if perhaps she had been a little reckless in the way she had played with Kathryn and had broken her.

Seven studied her trapped hand again, trying to determine the safest way to extricate it from the unconscious body of Voyager's captain. Feeling a little sorry for herself--and slightly lonely, too--she guessed that she would just have to wait for Kathryn to awaken. She regretted her predicament even more, however, when she heard the holodeck controls chirping back to life and saw the exit archway materializing.



 

Act IV

As a former Borg--efficient, precise, driven by logic, and striving always for perfection--Seven of Nine was typically the epitome of calm reserve in a crisis situation, second only to Tuvok and the other Vulcans on Voyager. And had she remained calm, Seven might have quickly concluded that if the holodeck controls were fixed, than the computer core was clear of gas, and hence the transporters operational again, which meant, finally, that she could have called for an emergency beam-out to transport her and the naked captain directly to the captain's quarters without any of the crew becoming any the wiser as to the captain and Seven's present circumstances.

Alternatively, Seven could have used the apparently operational holodeck controls herself to call for a lock-out and could have even put one of her exceptional Borg encryption codes on it to stymie Lt. Torres's efforts to by-pass the lock, thereby buying herself some extra time.

Barring all that, Seven could have, as a last resort, simply initiated a comlink with whoever was standing just outside the holodeck and requested the individual or individuals to wait while an important portion of the simulation she and the captain were running played itself out.

Unfortunately, nothing in her personal experience or in the vast storehouse of assimilated knowledge she possessed had prepared Seven of Nine for the situation she suddenly found herself in--wearing a harem costume and lying on a bed of satin and silk with her hand stuck halfway up the naked body of her commanding officer. Consequently, when the Borg heard the holodeck controls, she panicked during those precious moments when she should have been devising a workable solution to her problem. And then, when there was no more time left because whoever was outside the holodeck was starting to enter, Seven grabbed the nearest satin sheet and pulled it completely over herself and the captain.

Of course, the sheet had bellowed when Seven pulled it over, and it was still settling itself in telltale waves when B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim stepped into Chaotica's Dungeon of Pain.

"Looks like there was a fight in here," B'Elanna observed. "Captain? Seven?"

Harry pointed to the moving covers on the bed and whispered to B'Elanna: "I think there's someone over there."

B'Elanna picked up a nearby ray gun and gingerly approached the bed. Then she poked the muzzle into the satiny mound.

"Ouch!"

"Is that you, Seven?"

"Yes, Lt. Torres. Do not remove the sheet!" Seven said quickly.

"Uhm, what are you doing?"

"I......I am......it is part of the simulation.....an acting lesson."

"What are you supposed to be?" Harry threw in.

"Is that Ensign Kim?"

"Yes," Torres answered.

"Who else is with you?" Seven asked, alarm still lacing her voice.

"No one," B'Elanna replied impatiently. "Look, Seven, this is ridiculous. Would you come out from under there?"

"I.....cannot."

"Why not?"

"It would interfere with the acting lesson," Seven responded unconvincingly.

"All right," B'Elanna humored. "What's this lesson all about?"

"I cannot tell you......It is.....it is tactical training in covert operations."

"I see," B'Elanna replied testily. "And the captain?"

"She.....she is also 'undercover'."

"Fine," B'Elanna replied. She still didn't really understand where that meant the captain was, but she was tired of Seven's evasiveness.

Harry just looked at B'Elanna and shrugged.

"So are we to understand that you and the captain want to stay in the holodeck a little longer?" B'Elanna continued sarcastically.

Seven considered that. What she really wanted was the privacy of Kathryn's quarters. On the other hand, the ridiculous story she had started to spin suggested that they intended to play the simulation out. Seven felt miserable. She had tried to role-play her way out of the situation and had wound up backing herself into a corner. Of course, using her cunning would require her to actually be cunning, and she had to admit that she seemed to be lacking that particular skill at the moment. She simply didn't know what to say.

In the silent void that ensued while Seven tried to think of a response, Kathryn awoke.

"Seven," she breathed ardently, "oh, Darling, you were wonderful!" She chuckled, "But you can pull your hand out now, love. I'm a little sore....Uh, no dear, don't make a fist," she instructed calmly. "It's not a piñata....."

Underneath the sheet, Seven complied, pulling out gently and flexing her fingers.

"Mmm, come up here so I can hold you," Kathryn cooed.

Seven crawled up Kathryn's body to curl up lovingly in her arms. She was so enormously relieved to have her hand finally free that she almost forgot about Torres and Kim.

The two officers, in the meantime, gaped in pained disbelief. At some point, Torres's hand instinctively shot up to brace Ensign Kim, who teetered precariously on the verge of a dead faint. They continued staring at the animated sheet and listened in dismay at the endless stream of smacking noises coming from it.

"Uh, Kathryn?" Seven began, in-between the kisses she kept accepting from Kathryn, "the holodeck controls have been fixed."

"That's wonderful [kiss, kiss]. We can go back to my cabin, now [kiss]."

"Yes, but [kiss], Kathryn? Mmmm....[kiss....gasp] Oh, Kathryn!"

A rich throaty laugh came from underneath the sheet. Then more smacking sounds. And finally: "Was there something you needed to tell me, Darling? [kiss]"

"Yes [kiss]. Something about Lt. Torres [kiss, moan].....and Ensign Kim [kiss, kiss]."

"Mmm? [kiss]"

"They fixed the--....ohhhh--holodeck......a-and [kiss]....uh, requested entrance."

There was a gasp and then......silence.

Torres and Kim stood frozen to their spots, still gaping at the now stationary and deadly quiet mound of satin. Then they saw a hand with long, elegant fingers reach over the edge of the sheet and pull down on it tentatively to reveal rumpled auburn hair, a creased forehead, raised eyebrows, and finally a pair of blue-grey eyes. The sheet stopped at the bridge of the nose as the eyes took in the situation. Then the beady eyes disappeared again beneath the satin. In the next moment, the sheet became animated again with movement as the sound of sharp whispers bantering back and forth emanated from underneath. The hisses rose in intensity and finally culminated with Seven of Nine's clearly blurted, "Borg do not panic!"

Then the officers heard a heavy sigh as the captain at last popped her head out from under the sheet. She took a moment to run her hand expertly through her hair in three efficient strokes, combing back several unruly strands. As she turned to address her officers, leaning on her elbow to prop herself, they saw the captain's bare shoulders and instantly guessed she was out of uniform, so to speak. The command mask on the face that stared them down seemed deeply incongruous with the tableau, especially given the way the captain was demurely holding the satin sheet to obviously bare breasts. But it was commanding enough that Torres and Kim felt their own spines instinctively petrify to attention.

"Well," the captain began calmly, "this is certainly awkward." Her eyes shifted appraisingly between her two officers. "I suppose you're expecting a tirade of some sort," she proceeded in low, deliberate tones. "With me begging and ordering and even threatening the two of you not to divulge any of what you've just seen and heard." She sighed. "But we're all adults, here. Right?" she asked rhetorically. "I'm sure I don't need to impress upon you the importance of respecting my privacy. Yes? Obviously, there's no need for a long, drawn-out lecture. Correct? Especially when two short words would suffice for me to make my point." She paused for effect and then enunciated: "Air lock."

Torres and Kim got the point. "Yes, captain," they muttered simultaneously.

Kathryn smiled sweetly, which of course belied the threat she had just made. Then in soft friendly tones, she requested, "Harry, be a dear and hand me Seven's dress, will you?" She reached over and grabbed her own dress, which had fallen nearby, then sat upright again and instantly tapped a punitive hand at the mound rustling underneath the sheet: "Stop that," she commanded the mound. "Thank you, Harry," she said to the ensign, accepting the tattered gold garment. Then with both dresses--and the attached combadges--in hand, she called for an intra-ship transport. "Computer, two to beam directly to the captain's quarters."

"Good night," she said in polite, saccharin tones to the two pale officers. Then the transport sparkles filled her eyes. Before she had completely dematerialized, however, she felt her stomach lurch as she distinctly heard Ensign Kim asking, "B'Elanna, what's a piñata?"

Kathryn sighed into momentary oblivion.
 


Epilogue

Even before they had quite materialized on the carpet in the middle of the captain's living area, Seven had begun reorienting herself on Kathryn's body. So when the captain's eyes refocused, the first thing that came into view was Seven's round bottom settling itself over Kathryn's face.

"Hey?" Kathryn called, patting the pale flesh, "Don't you think we should talk?"

"No," Seven blurted. "My mouth will be otherwise occupied," she explained, and then she demonstrated.

Kathryn gasped. Making a half-hearted effort at protest, she complained, "We're behaving like a couple of animals."

Seven pulled her mouth away and stroked her cheek against Kathryn's thigh. "How did you expect to behave after denying your needs for so long? How would you have me behave after discovering my own needs for the first time?"

"But...." Kathryn tried again in vein, further words stolen from her when Seven's tongue resumed stroking the captain's sex.

In the next moment, Kathryn took in the sight of the blonde mound wiggling impatiently over her face, and then she gave herself over to Seven's intoxicating scent, nuzzling into its source.

"You see, Kathryn," Seven gloated, "you cannot fight it."

"You're right, my love," the captain managed. " I know when I'm licked.......God, do I know when I'm licked."

Sometime later, the two women lay quietly on the floor, luxuriating in the afterglow of their simultaneous indulgence. Seven had not bothered to turn back around, enjoying the look and texture of Kathryn's down. And Kathryn was relishing in her own lazy exploration of Seven's bottom, caressing the globes that had cooled in the open air and occasionally sojourning in the humid jungle in-between.

"Let's go to bed, my sweet," Kathryn suggested, sounding remarkably like Arachnia.

"Yes, my queen," Seven quipped, picking Kathryn up in one smooth motion and carrying her into the bedroom as the smaller woman laughed with delight.

They tumbled onto the bed and began kissing again, their passion building once more despite how thoroughly they had been sating each other. Almost immediately, Seven returned her attention to Kathryn's delectable nipples.

"God!" Kathryn cried, astonished that she was becoming aroused again. "You really are a beast, you know?"

Seven wasn't fooled. "You waste your time complaining when it is obviously a compliment," she said. Then she sucked the other nipple in noisily, tasting it with provocative intensity.

"Seven?" Kathryn tried again, gently stroking the golden head fastened to her bosom. "I really think we should talk, Darling."

"Later, Kathryn. I am not ready for 'emotional repercussions'," she said, trailing her lips down Kathryn's torso as if to distance herself from the conversation she was dreading.

Kathryn regretted the tinge of fear she heard in Seven's confession and wanted to put the young woman at ease. "Too late........I've already fallen in love with you," she smiled.

Seven reared up her head and looked at Kathryn intently, features frozen in a look of wonder. Then she crawled up the captain's body until their faces were close.

"Kathryn," she breathed. "Love?"

"Yes, Seven. I love you."

"That is stronger than like, yes?"

"Yes, my love."

Seven frowned. "Is there anything stronger than love?"

"I don't know," Kathryn answered honestly.

Seven smiled and kissed Kathryn sweetly. "Love is sufficient," she concluded.

Kathryn smiled back. "It's a start."
 

--THE END--



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This page is from the Delta Quadrant of Venus website. The site was originally hosted on AOL's hometown pages, which AOL shut down on October 31, 2008. The DQV site was resurrected and moved to this new home on November 30, 2008 because fans asked to have it back. Thank you for your continued interest in my stories. I'm truly touched. --T'ware

Full version posted September 20, 1999. Last updated March 7, 2000, for minor errors. Updated January 2, 2002, to delete table and add logo graphic.