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Cruzing (ff/fff/mf/nc/bd/ds/alien/startrek)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Warning! Be advised that this story contains graphic, sometimes lightly
non-consentual depictions of sexual interaction, both hetero and
homosexual. The story also contains vivid, clinical, detailed
descriptions of sex with a humanoid alien. If you are under the age of
18, or if any of these subjects is likely to disturb and/or anger you,
please read no further, and save us both a flame.
Dekaddemon shall not be liable for any wrongdoing, whether knowingly or
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already the propertiy of other parties, remain the property of Dekaddemon.
So there.
CRUZING
Chapter Four: The Doctor Is In (part 4a)
Security Chief Juanita Vasquez sat in Doctor Beverly Crusher's office in
Sickbay, together looking at some Cruzer anatomical diagrams displayed on
the wall monitor. The two women were discussing various physiological
aspects of Vas' body.
"I congratulate you, Juanita," the redheaded physician told her patient.
She had insisted on first names from the moment they had met; Vas
approved. At the same time, she was having some difficulty picturing the
older woman in bed with both Hicks and Counselor Troi, who she'd met
briefly when she'd first arrived in Sickbay. Apparently, the two women
were *good* friends, and liked to work out together in the mornings.
--Yeah, I'll bet they work out-- Vas caught herself thinking wickedly.
"You're medical file is quite complete, and very detailed," the doctor
continued. "Do you always hand carry your own medical records?"
"Saves time, Doc," Vas replied. She called *every* technician even
remotely connected with the medical profession "Doc", from her earliest
days in the Corps. "Besides," laughed the Cruzer softly, "if I had a
credit for every computer file of mine that's been misrouted by the Marine
Corps, I'd have retired to Risa long ago. . ."
Doctor Crusher studied the scans of Vas' anatomy for several moments,
frowning. "Well, the Briefing I received from Doctor S'sik was quite
accurate regarding the lack of precision in scanning Cruzers." The doctor
pointed to several areas of one scan in particular, a large detail mapping
of Vas' sternum. Several areas of the computer display were blurred, or
had derezzed into unreadable static. "The heavy metals that your body
concentrates in your bones has the unfortunate side effect of limiting the
ability of medical diagnostic beds to accurately scan you."
"Yeah," Vas agreed. "It used to drive the corpsmen crazy in the Marines;
they could never get an accurate scan. My corpsman on the Sulaco got very
good at low-tech diagnostic techniques. Besides," Vas added, grinning
slyly, "Diagnostic beds make my teeth itch. . ."
"Well, I guess I'll have to dust off my less technologically-oriented
techniques," Crusher announced. "Luckily for you, I spent a year of my
residency at the Starbase 116 medical facility making "housecalls" to the
surrounding mining colonies. The conditions were. . . unfriendly to
advanced medical science." Crusher smiled a tired smile, that of someone
remembering a rough time, and was proud of the way they handled it. "Some
of the injuries I saw were. . ." she paused before continuing. "They were
so severe that their wasn't time to due complete scans; you just had to
roll up your sleeves and dive right in."
"I've seen a lot of those in the field," Vas replied softly. The two
women regarded each other for a moment, the soldier specialized in the
taking of life, and the surgeon dedicated to saving it.
"You have my personal word of honor that I will *never* send you a
casualty that wasn't absolutely necessary to the preservation of this ship
or its crew," Vas said with an intensity that belied her twenty-eight
years of life. "I know what kind of rep that Marines have on 'Fleet
ships: we're bloodthirsty, we think diplomacy is for wimps, why talk when
you can fight, I've heard them all." Vas looked deep into Crusher's face,
her black, liquid eyes reflecting the office's ambient lighting brightly.
"I'm not like that, and you'll just have to take my word for it." Vas sat
back in her chair, across from the doctor sitting at her desk. "Sure,
I've seen the dark side of hell, I've been in firefights that would turn
even your stomach. I know the value of negotiation," Vas said ruefully,
"but we didn't get much chance to practice it in the Corps."
Beverly regarded the new Security Chief. Truthfully, she felt a little
bit sheepish. She had jumped to a subconscious conclusion that she would
be seeing more traffic in Sickbay because of her. But she now realized
that that might not be Major Vasquez's fault. Crusher and Counselor Troi
had spent the previous night looking over Vas' service record with the
Marines. The Major had been recruited on Picus III, the closest neighbor
world to Cruz and the de facto recruitment station for the Marine Corps
for Cruzers, at the age of 16, not an unusual age for Cruzers entering the
Marines. Starting at buck private, Vasquez had progressed steadily
through the ranks, achieving sergeant after two years, and master sergeant
after four. Then, as is necessary for all Cruzers who wish to become an
officer candidate, Vasquez acquired the personal sponsorship of a Marine
officer of at least colonel rank, in her case then-Colonel Alice Ferro.
Vasquez made second lieutenant at the age of 22, and was promoted three
times, to Major, over the next five years. During her career, Vasquez had
been awarded the Silver Star twice, and had accumulated six Purple Hearts.
It was specifically the last point that Beverly had been interested. Of
her six purple heart awards, four represented immediately life threatening
injuries. As a private, Vas' right leg had been burned by molecular acid
all the way to the bone, and she now had a bio-integrated duralloy implant
which replace seven inches of her right tibia (not to mention a hell of a
scar). As a sergeant, Vas had taken the brunt of a Cardassian disruptor
set on Kill to her right shoulder, which had nearly blown her right arm
off. As a lieutenant, Vas' squad had been ambused by a renegade Klingon
pirate band, and she'd been captured, raped repeatedly, and very nearly
beaten to death before rescue. Finally, as a captain, while trying to
quell a colonial insurrection, Vas had been hit in the back by an
ion-propelled smart grenade, which had completely penetrated her lower
back, nearly disemboweling her, before striking a wall ten feet in front
of her, whereupon it had exploded, spraying her with shrapnel. Vas had
spent nearly a full year recovering from that particular injury at a
Starfleet medical facility, learning how to walk again with her
reconstructed spinal column.
Doctor Crusher looked hard at her patient, sitting calmly across from her,
and couldn't help but think --how is it that this woman is still alive,
much less that *calm*?-- She was bound to be experiencing some lingering
after-effects of such trauma, despite the Cruzers' legendary recuperative
abilities. "I can barely see from this scan, taken, uh, let's see, three
years ago, that you have a significant amount of scar tissue along the
left side of the reconstructed portion of your spine. Does it ever give
you any trouble?"
Vas thought for a moment, regarding the doctor carefully. "Sometimes. .
." she began carefully, as if deciding in the process of speaking whether
or not to tell Doctor Crusher this, "Sometimes, I have a shooting pain
that extends from my lower back into my right arm, usually just after I
wake up, or after heavy exercise."
"Is it getting worse?"
"Yeah, a little. . ."
"Well, Major," Crusher began, her tone one of a professor lecturing a
recalcitrant student, "Starfleet medicine is a bit more advanced here that
out in the "field", as you put it, and I would *hope* that any other
medical difficulties you may be suffering from you will promptly bring to
my attention."
--Madre Dias!-- Vas thought to herself. --The woman is my fucking
mother!-- "Of course, Doctor. I do, in fact, have something to share, but
perhaps it should wait until the exam itself?"
Doctor Crusher smiled. "Of course."
*****
Two hours later, Doctor Crusher had escorted Vas to a private examination
room. Vas watched the redhead closely, to see if she was at all nervous
about examining somebody the low-tech way, but the doctor seemed to take
it in stride. Cool! Vas had now undressed completely, and had climbed
into what the doctor had explained was a chair normally reserved for
delivery of babies, but which the resourceful doctor had modified into a
gynecological exam chair, complete with stirrups. Vas found it a bit
bizarre; she'd had some great sex in chairs very much like this one.
Doctor Crusher stepped around in front of Vas, between the Cruzers legs,
and gave Vas a *very* professional appraisal, from head to toe. "We'll,
Major, you are in *fantastic* physical shape; I've never seen this kind of
quality in physical development before, much less in a woman."
"Thank you," Vas said simply, watching the doctor examine her *intimately*
with her eyes. It might have been Vas' imagination, but she thought that
the doctor's eyes lingered on her pubic region longer that anywhere else.
Vas looked down at her body; as was quite typical, the tip of her penis
was protruding from its sheath at the apex of her vaginal cleft, looking
for all the world like a human woman's clitoris, except twice as thick and
twice as long. The contrast between the red flesh and the black pubic hair
was vivid. Finally, it was *slipping* slowly in and out of its sheath,
just about an inch or so, in and out, in and out.
Doctor Crusher seemed to forget momentarily what she was saying. "Uh, oh!
Yes, now Major," she continued, thankful for the sound of her own voice,
"We've completed all the other aspects of your examination. Thankfully, I
was able to recalibrate my medical tricorder to penetrate with some
effectiveness your body's outer surface. However, with the amount of
ionically-active metallic heavy elements you've concentrated in your
pelvis, a scan of that area is out of the question, so I'm at something of
a loss as to just how to examine you, at least until I fabricate some
specialize equipment." The doctor stood before Vas, her chin resting
thoughtfully in her hand, honestly puzzled. "Of course, I have the
equipment to at least visually examine the inside of your vagina and
rectum, but its your triprostates I'm worried about. Now, I do have a
rather personal question for you; do you mind?"
Intrigued, Vas shook her head.
"Well," the doctor began, "I see by your service record that you were
sexually assaulted by several Klingons some years ago. . ."
--Damn!-- Vas thought, --This woman is smart; she's gonna guess!"--
"That's right," Vas said aloud. "Five of them; they all raped me, both
vaginally and anally."
"Hmmm, I thought so," Bev responded clinically. "I don't suppose they
used spine retractor rings?"
Vas laughed genuinely. --How the fuck does she know about those!--
Klingons possessed anywhere from three to seven short, fairly sharp, bony
spines at the base of their penises, which pointed back towards the body.
After penetration, these spines expanded, ideally to slip into special
bone channels within the female Klingon vagina, literally locking the two
together. In this way, the spines served the same function as the Cruzer
knot, albeit substantially more effectively. When Klingons wanted to
engage in sexual intercourse with anyone but a Klingon female, they
usually wore a specially designed elastic ring which fit around the base
of the penis, so as to prevent the spines from expanding. If this ring
was not worn, the Klingon male had to be extremely gentle with his
thrusts, especially his withdrawals, lest he injure his partner. Vas'
rapists had used no such equipment, and had penetrated her violently.
"No, they must have forgotten them," Vas said facetiously. "The Marine
docs told me that my left-side triprostate had been speared all the way
through three times; it still gets inflamed more often that normal. In
fact, that's what I was going to tell you. I think it's swollen right
now."
Crusher listened to the Security Chief dispassionately, but inside, she
felt much sympathy for the woman. How painful that must have been, those
huge brutes, penetrating her over and over, those spines! Abruptly, she
realized that she'd lost her train of thought again. Worse, she saw that
Vasquez was looking at her with the oddest little smile on her face.
"Well, we'll just have a look at that in a moment."
Vas decided that it was time to find out just what the doctor was made of.
"Also, I have some small injuries at the base of my penis, which you
might want to look at."
"Uh, certainly!" Crusher responded, a bit too quickly to sound quite
natural. "Let's first have a look at your ovaries."
Doctor Crusher sat on the padded stool between Vas' upraised legs, and
began to lubricate an old-fashioned fiber-optical scope, about twelve
inches long, with a narrow, snake-like appendage bearing the optic pickup.
Taking a deep breath, Crusher slowly slipped it into Vasquez's vagina,
and peered at the scanner in her hand. Moving the instrument deeper, she
saw it slip into Vasquez's cervix, which brought a small grunt from the
Cruzer.
"Are you all right, Major?" Crusher asked innocently, her voice wavering
just a bit.
"Yeah," Vas replied, watching the doctor's *every* move. "Just sensitive.
. ."
"Sorry," the doctor offered.
Vas looked the woman directly in the eyes, letting the full impact of the
huge, dark pupils hold the doctors own eyes locked. "It's all right,
Beverly," Vas said, deliberately using the doctors first name, "I trust
you *completely* with my body. . ."
Beverly Crusher sat very still for a long moment. The two women regarded
each other carefully. Then, Crusher smiled very genuinely, and very
warmly. "Please," she said softly, "Call me Bev."
"Bev. . . I like it. . ." Vas responded, trying out the name, as she
reclined in the chair. Her eyes became half-lidded, as she relaxed
slowly, almost sensually. "I want you to check *everything*, Bev," the
Cruzer to the doctor in a soft, husky voice thick with her sensual accent.
"And don't worry about hurting me; it's not that kind of sensitive. . ."
Without another word, Bev pulled on some synthitex gloves. Vas watched
her like she was hungry for something.
"Now," Bev said, "the first thing I'd like to do is have you. . . um,
extrude your penis, so that I can. . . e-examine it." Vas smiled gently,
admiring the woman's determination to be professional. It was clear that
she was embarrassed. It was a nice change from the Marine base medtechs,
who, to the man (and they were almost always men, at least the ones
stationed on bases, where Vas had had the majority of her more thorough
physicals), *loved* examining her cock.
For all of her sexual experience, Vas' anatomy was a very private thing to
her. Even as a youth on Cruz, she'd been captured by a street gang and
*sold* into her first Games competition. Once she was in the Marine
Corps, Vas had been questioned very closely about her rather unusual
biology . Early in her career, while a grunt recruit, when she had gone
for her first physical, she'd been taken aside from all the other
recruits. The bases' director of medicine, a full-bird colonel, had
personally given Vas her examination. He had insisted on having Vas
undress, without telling her why the base scanners wouldn't work. He'd
told her that her "non-standard" physiology required a more "thorough"
examination, and since he'd been an officer, and Vas had literally been
lower than shit, she really hadn't seen another option. So, she'd
submitted to what had turned out to be very intimate, thoroughly degrading
examination. Apparently, the doctor had acquired some knowledge of Cruzer
sexual biology somewhere, for almost immediately, he had inserted a gloved
finger into her rectum and unerringly found her dual, swollen triprostate
glands.
Instantly, the doctor had begun to rake his finger across the throbbing,
swollen mass, massaging the glands through her rectal wall, which of
course produced full exposure of her penis, right down to the knot. The
doctor had been quite pleased with this involuntarily response, and had
continued his dirty work until Vas had become quite rigid under the
repeated prodding of her prostate. Becoming bolder by the second, he had
locked the door (Vas could still perfectly picture his evil smile as he
got up from his stool between her legs and deliberately gone over to the
door, locking it with a little, evil chortle). After he came back, he had
given Vas a direct order to forget what he was about to do. Yes, he knew
his Cruzers, and after Vas had given her word as a Marine to keep silent
and do as she was told, the colonel could quite literally have done
anything he wanted to her, with impunity. As it turned out, fortunately
for Vas, he hadn't had much imagination, and wasn't interested in making
her "servitude" long-term (there was a famous case in which a Marine Corps
General had kept a Cruzer as his personal whore for three years). What he
*had* done was to proceeded to handle her organ quite thoroughly, much to
Vas' shock, until he was in actuality masturbating her. Vas remembered
feeling totally humiliated, both by the fact that she felt powerless in
the situation , and also by the fact that she had become unwillingly and
undeniably aroused by the doctor's caress. To allow her body to become
aroused by such a pig was disgusting. He measured her organ, took several
pictures of it, all the while his finger harshly jabbing and prodding the
hot, tensed swell of her prostates, his other hand wrapped around her
erection, fondling and stroking the hot, sticky, bright-red flesh.
Eventually, Vas had begun to drip copiously with preliminary semenal
fluid, and he promptly had collected some in a small tube, all the while
telling her to relax and "let it happen", "don't fight it," and the like.
Finally, mercifully, Vas had come all over both of them (in one of the
more painful orgasms of Vas' life; with the force of his jabbing, he'd
ended up nearly rupturing one of Vas' triprostate glands). Vas
remembered, with fondness, that her fountain of come (and more than a
little blood) had surprised the *hell* out of the colonel. He'd ordered
her back into her fatigues (without letting her so much as shower), and
that had been that. Now that she was a Major, nobody did that shit
anymore.
"I can't extend my penis by just thinking about it, actually," Vas told
Crusher, her mind returning to the small antiseptic confines of the
Sickbay exam room. "But, there is a pretty convenient trick that works
every time." Vas smiled at the doctor, who no longer affected the tone of
a superior. Bev looked just the littlest bit shaken.
Beverly, for her part, was having trouble keeping her eyes off of
protruding, bright-red tip of Vas' penis, urging in and out of its
sheath. It was no longer retracting fully, but remained extended between
one and two inches from the upper fold of Vasquez's vagina. It was kind
of hypnotizing. And the woman had so much pubic hair! Not to mention
that it looked a bit, well, unnatural; it was incredibly black, and the
hairs themselves were very thick and springy. And although not overlong,
the woman's pubic hair was *very* dense, so much so that no skin could be
seen on her vaginal lips. It was more like what one would find on an
animal. Bev shuddered slightly.
Also, there was a smell about the Cruzer. Although familiar, it took Bev
longer to place it than she might have expected. It was sweat, the musky,
thick smell of a perspiring body. Now that Bev looked, she saw that
Vasquez was indeed rather sweaty. Of course, her body temperature! Not
to mention the fact that Bev had really put Vasquez through her physical
paces, testing her cardiovascular system and respiratory capacity.
Truthfully, Bev had been vaguely intrigued by the Security Chief's
outstanding physical development, and had pushed her just a little, to see
what she could do. What she had done had surprised the doctor; the
Cruzer's strength was amazing. Now, the sheen of moisture clinging to
Vas' body was just beginning to form beads, particularly on her stomach,
belly and thighs. Although quite strong, Bev found the smell of Vasquez's
body surprisingly . . . agreeable.
"Trick?" Bev asked levelly.
"Yeah," Vas responded lazily, her eyes now slightly glazed as she willed
herself to relax totally. "Put some oil, or lubricant or something, just
a little, on your index finger. Then, look just above my anus, there's a
hairless patch of skin, about the size of your thumb. Do you see it?"
Captivated by the openness of the Security Chief, Bev carefully laid her
hands on Vasquez's buttocks, and gently spread them, revealing the inner
split. The pubic hairs grew everywhere, all around the anal ring, and
continuing up the woman's back. Except for the small area that Vasquez
had described. The dense pubic hair ringed it, but the small patch of
skin was absolutely smooth, and a lighter brown that the rest of her
coffee skin. "Yes, I see it."
"Good, Bev," Vas almost purred. "That's where Cruzers had vestigial
tails, up until about a hundred years or so ago. Turns out, it wasn't a
stable mutation, although we still see it sometimes. Just stroke your
finger back and forth on that patch, and press up into it every so often,
and I'll extend for you every time."
Bev applied some of the same lubricant she'd used on the optiscope to her
gloved index finger. She noted clinically that her hands were trembling
slightly. Still, she did as Vas had asked. Bev was surprised at how soft
the little patch was. As soon as she started rubbing slowly, Vas began to
speak, in very soft, but very intense voice.
"Oh, that's it, perfect," Vas coached. Bev noticed that her eyes were now
closed entirely. "A little bit firmer please, OHHH, good! That's so
good." The Cruzer licked her lips, the corded muscles of her shoulders,
arms, and particularly her stomach and abdomen, began tensing, leaping out
into glorious definition
Within thirty seconds, Vas thick, moist penis had slid out fully (except
the knot), and now swung between her legs, looking for all the world like
a huge, fat worm crawling from the woman's vagina. Bev swore that she
could hear a soft slithering noise as the massive organ slid forth. It
was so oddly shaped! Not at *all* like a man's penis, with its peculiar,
beveled glans and its forward-taper, and its fleshy, slender, blood-red
tip.
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