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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
inadvertently, that may arise from individuals breaking local applicable
laws by transferring, printing or storing this material in any form
whatsoever, electronically or otherwise. All copyrights, excepting those
already the propertiy of other parties, remain the property of Dekaddemon.
So there.
CRUZING
Chapter Six: Command Perogatives (part 6a)
Lieutenant Darryl Hicks and Lt. Commander Geordi Laforge sat amidst the
warm, soapy water of the sunken, expansive bathtub, facing each other,
their legs sensually intertwined. A air of the small chamber was
similarly moist, and the two men sweated freely. Two small trays stood
next to the tub by either man's reclined head; Hicks' tray bore a
venerable hypotherm canister of Terran beer, while the other supported
Geordi's preferred poison, a Saurian Backbender. Just barely, sensually
noticeable to both men, riding just behind the veneer of soap and steam,
was the lingering, bleachy musk of both men's semen, still wafting from
the open door to Geordi's bedroom. Both men were now relaxing after a
long, intimate fuck.
"I still think she's got a simple case of the hots for you," Geordi mused,
his eyes closed. His visor lay next to his drink on the tray. "It's not
like she'd be the only one on the ship. . ."
Hicks smiled slowly, watching his best friend and sexual partner relaxing
in the tub across from him. For the past year, he and Geordi had been
more than friends. The two had spent a fair amount of time together
during a refit of the emergency damage control monitors in Main
Engineering, not long after Geordi's promotion to Chief Engineer. It was
during that time that the men discovered, and nurtured, a quiet but
intimate sexual attraction for each other. Geordi was bisexual, it had
turned out, and Hicks had been homosexual for as long as he could
remember. Each discovered in the other a friendly, easygoing charm that
both found stimulating and comforting.
"Please, don't remind me," Hicks responded in his typically breathy, sexy
voice. "You wouldn't believe what Bev and Dee wanted to do with me last
night."
"You're right, I can't. Enlighten me."
Hicks actually blushed. "Let's just say it involved me, her, and the
biggest dog I've ever seen in my life; I think she was taking care of it
for one of the civilian families. What *is* it with the women on this
ship?" he groused good-naturedly.
Now it was Geordi's turn to smile. "You're a heartbreaker, Dare, that's
what it is." He ran his soapy foot gently up Hicks' broad, rippled chest,
toying with the security officer's left nipple with his toe. "A tragic
waste of perfectly good man-flesh; maybe Deanna's trying to reform you."
They both laughed softly, and Hicks both his hand up out of the water to
slowly caress Geordi's foot. Geordi was one of the few people who ever
referred to Hicks by his first name, to say nothing of a contraction of
it. Hicks was a native of a colony world, New Malibu, on which the custom
was to refer to last names; first names were reserved for family and close
friends.
"I doubt it," Hicks responded easily. "I think she's just horny. Its
been good to see Bev come out of her shell, though. . ." Deanna he'd been
fucking for six months, but the Betazoid had only tentatively introduced
Dr. Crusher to him sexually three months ago. Although emotionally firmly
homosexual, Hicks was, physically speaking, sexually omnivorous, and found
orgasms easily with women. His relationship with Counselor Troi was based
on friendship. There was a word for it on his homeworld: "fuckbuddies".
Deanna was one of the most direct, open-minded women he knew. He'd gotten
to know Deanna through Tasha Yar, with whom the Betazoid had been friends
(he also suspected they'd been sexually intimate as well). Deanna had
essentially told him that she found him very attractive, and although she
knew he was homosexual, she needed a little therapy herself on occasion,
and would he mind very much if she fucked his brains out? A perceptive
woman, Ms. Troi was, able as she was to deduce (correctly) that being gay
did not necessarily rule out having sex with her. And so, Hicks helped
Deanna indulge her desire to be sexually dominant, and, lately, her desire
to help Beverly finally put the death of her husband behind her.
"I *still* think you're lying about Dr. Crusher," Geordi laughed. "I just
can *not* see her in a threesome with you and Deanna. I can't even see
her having sex, period."
"You'd be surprised," Hicks offered softly. "She's incredibly passionate,
in a careful, deliberate sort of way." The blond paused to lick the soap
delicately from between Geordi's toes, which drew a satisfying sigh of
contentment from his friend. "And I've *told* you I don't know how many
times that I'm just playing counselor for Deanna; she needs occasional
release too, just like the rest of us." It was an intimate, familiar joke
between the two friends, how Hicks was secretly in love with the beautiful
Betazoid, how his homosexuality was all a ruse, etc. Geordi laughed. He
now had both feet on Hicks' chest, rubbing slowly, sensually, over his
sculpted pectoral and abs, with Hicks resting his arms at his sides,
allowing Geordi as much access as he wanted. "But back to the question at
hand, lover. What do I do about Major Vasquez?"
This was the question that had occupied the two men for the last several
hours, even as they had gently but thoroughly explored the warm depths of
each other's bodies. Why was Vasquez trying to drive him insane with
sexual teasing, and, more importantly, why was it working? Hicks did
*not* think that it was a simple case of sexual attraction. It was more
like a power trip, the likes of which he'd never seen. The Cruzer had
been at it now for over two months, letting him see her partially naked,
working out especially intensely in front of him, letting him see her with
Ro. And she had a way of touching him often in the course of their
training of the squad. A hand on the ass or the back of the thigh. A
gentle slap on the cheek. Often, when Vasquez gave him an order, she
would "affirm" it with a light pound with the side of her fist against his
chest. And lately, the teasing had been getting more intense. After
working out together, she'd lately begun asking him to massage her back.
Although, it had been a request, it had definitely been in the context of
their relationship as superior officer and subordinate. She had a way of
asking very directly, very explicitly, and *firmly* in her role as his
commanding officer, for exactly what she wanted: to massage this muscle or
that, to lighten or increase the pressure of his fingers. And she made the
most amazingly intense sounds while he worked her muscles, so soft that
they could be missed if not listened for, but there nonetheless. Tiny
moans, small *grunts*, little sighs.
He had had to frankly admit to himself that she turned him on. Although
he had never had any specific desire to participate of cross-species
sexual interaction, he now found himself thinking about his superior in
that way. What was she like in bed? Did she really have a cock? Which
did she like better, getting fucked or doing the fucking? It was also
easy to think of her as not specifically female. She was very masculine,
in body hair, musculature, and demeanor. When dealing with him, Vasquez
had a direct, intense, but deeply friendly intimacy that reminded Hicks
strongly of homosexual attraction, the easy, relaxed acknowledgement of
strong sexual tension, and the implicit promise of later, mutual satiation
of that tension. It was bizarre, and compellingly sexual.
"It seems clear to me," Hicks reasoned, "that Vasquez really wants me to
fuck her." He paused, lost momentarily in thought. "But," he began
again, "she also been doing everything but scream in my face that she's in
charge. . ."
"Maybe she's got a rape fantasy, too," Geordi surmised, in all honesty.
"You know, wind you up in the hopes you'll go over the edge and force
her."
Hicks thought that over. "No," he responded at last, "I don't think so;
at least, not with me. She's so totally, I don't know. . . *military*,
maybe she's worried about what things would be like after we fucked, if
the chain of command would get screwed up."
"Then why doesn't she just talk to you about it?"
Hicks smiled after a moment. "Maybe its not the *Cruzer Way*," he intoned
with mock-menace, causing both of them to laugh. "Seriously, though," he
continued, "Cruzers have this big thing about command structure, so I
hear. I get the definite feeling that something's going to happen, like
she's setting me up somehow." The blond security officer smiled
languidly. "Maybe its all an elaborate test, to see if I can prove my
worth. He paused, as if listening to his own words replay in his head.
"Christ, that sounds positively primitive!" They both laughed again, the
easily laughter of two friends who trusted one another implicitly.
"Why don't you ask Deanna about it?" Geordi asked seriously. He had
allowed one of his feet slide beneath the soapy water to slip between
Hick's legs, and had been surprised to find his friend *rock* hard. It
was clear that something was going on in his friend's head.
Hicks gave a secret little laugh.
"What?" Geordi asked, now intrigued. "What?!!"
Hicks' green eyes slid up to the blind orbs of his friend, now open and
showing white. Geordi could almost sense the man's gaze. "I think
Deanna's fucking her."
Geordi's jaw dropped. "You're *kidding*!" he exclaimed. "I'll *never*
doubt you about our Counselor's sexual appetites again. How do you know?"
Hicks allowed his eyes to close as he reflected upon the events of last
night. He'd been in Security. Vasquez had told him he'd be in charge all
night. He'd assumed she'd been planning to spend some time with Ro. At
about 02:00 he'd gotten a call from Deanna, who had quite innocently told
him that she'd been going over crew psych profiles all evening, and really
needed a good backrub. He'd told her that he was in charge in Security
and couldn't leave, but Deanna had seemed oddly unsurprised. She had
simply said that if he should happen to get free, to drop by. Then, only
a few minutes later, Vasquez herself had come walking in. She'd taken
over for him, and conveniently given him the rest of the evening off.
And, she'd had the oddest little smile on her face. With a strange sense
of being manipulated, he'd gone to Deanna's quarters, and had been very
surprised to find Deanna *completely* restrained on her bed, her hands and
feet spread and bound at the bed's corners with security binders, with a
blindfold tied around her head and a synthi-rubber ball-gag firmly tucked
into her mouth. Moreover, the Betazoid had been naked, sweaty, and
*covered* in some kind of fluid the likes of which Hicks had never seen
before, but which bore an oddly familiar scent. Sort of cinnamony and
animal at the same time. It had taken him a moment to place the scent:
Vasquez, after she'd been working out really hard. It had looked like
semen to Hicks', although there whad been just an *amazing* amount of it;
there hadn't been a single bit of Deanna that hadn't been liberally
smeared with the strange, thin, slippery liquid. Deanna had been
literally beside herself with sexual arousal, obviously unprepared for
having been on the other end of the sexual dominance game, and clearly
devastated by it. And there'd been a message, on the data terminal beside
her bed (even the terminal had been sprayed with the weird fluid):
SHE HAS A RAPE FANTASY: INDULGE IT.
After a long moment of contemplation of the helpless Betazoid on her bed
(and careful determination that the Betazoid had acurally been powerfully
aroused), he'd done just that, raping her very thoroughly and rather
forcefully, orally, vaginally, and anally. Afterwords, when he'd removed
the gag, all she'd said was "thank you" in a small, intense voice that
left *no* doubt as to the sincerity of that thanks.
Geordi listened with great interest to Hick's story, slowly stroking the
man's penis with his foot. Its swollen glans was now poking above the
water's surface, resting lightly against his belly. "Wow," was all Geordi
could think to say. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Without a doubt,
you lead the most interesting life of anyone I know. And for a *gay*
guy," he finished impishly, "you get more pussy than most *straight* guys
I know."
Hicks' laughed, enjoying Geordi's typically humorous insights. He also
noticed that he was horny as hell, and started to eye Geordi's soapy,
finely chiseled, ebony body with growing hunger. Geordi's foot stroked
him rhythmically. "At any rate," Hicks said, "Deanna didn't mention that
night again, and she hadn't said anything at all about Vasquez before
that, so I assume that it's something she'd prefer not to get into with
me. Thus," Hicks finished, having adopted a mock-scholarly tone, "I can't
ask her for advice about what to do with my boss; classic conflict of
interest."
Geordi laughed good-naturedly. "Well, thank *you* professor, for that
scintillating description of shipboard sexual dynamics. And when may I
read the published version?"
Geordi's laughter was abruptly cut off as Hicks, with cat-like reflexes,
abruptly grabbed both of Geordi's wandering feet and yanked hard, pulling
the Chief Engineer suddenly under the soapy water. He came up gurgling
and sputtering, only to find lips covering his own, kissing him with
urgent, but restrained passion. Without his visor, every nuance of the
kiss was magnified, the gentle, insistence caress of his lips, the
tentative, the exploratory probe of Hicks' tongue, the easy masculine
power of Hicks' hand as it slipped behind Geordi's head, pulling him
deeper into the kiss, which rapidly became *quite* hot.
Hicks broke the kiss gently, with a few parting licks at Geordi's lips.
"Top or bottom?" he asked simply.
"Bottom, lover," Geordi responded softly, with no hesitation. Hicks
picked him up with a soft, very sexy grunt of effort, and carried Geordi
bodily, dripping and soapy, into the bedroom.
*****
Much later that evening, Darryl Hicks returned to his quarters, to find a
message waiting for him on his data terminal; it was a text-only message
with no source identification:
THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR YOU INSIDE PANEL 631267, IN CRAWLWAY 8/J7F, DECK
12/13 JEFFRIES INTERCONNECT. CHECK IT OUT.
"What the hell?" Hicks whispered to himself. Out of curiosity, he
accessed the Enterprise's deck plan file, and located the section of
crawlway referred to in the message. It was an extremely out-of-the-way
section of the ship, between the main reclamators on Deck 12 and the
astrophysics research lab on Deck 13. He recalled the message and reread
it several times.
"O.K., I'll play. . ."
*****
The magbolts came out easily, falling neatly into Hicks' hand. He put
away the phase inverter in its case, and carefully detached the faceplate
of panel 631267 and put it aside. Tucked between two plasma conduits, he
saw it immediately. A small metal box. Hicks picked it up carefully,
noting that something inside it rattled. Without further preliminaries,
he opened the box. Inside was an isolinear datachip and an odd, bladed
tool, whose use he could not immediately identify. Setting it aside for
the moment, he took out his security tricorder, and plugged the chip into
it. He read, stunned.
LIEUTENANT HICKS:
MORE THAN I'VE WANTED ANYTHING IN A LONG TIME, I WANT TO FUCK YOU. I NEED
TO SHOW YOU MY APPRECIATION FOR YOUR EXPERTISE, YOUR ACCEPTANCE, YOUR
FRIENDSHIP, EVEN YOUR MASCULINITY. EVERY DAY I SEE YOU, THE MORE I WANT
TO PUT MY HANDS ON YOU, MY MOUTH, MY CUNT. OUR GENEITCS DOOMS US TO THIS,
SOME SAY; I THINK OF IT AS A GIFT, THIS NEED TO SHARE MYSELF WITH YOU, TO
GIVE YOU AS MUCH PLEASURE AS YOU CAN STAND, AND MORE STILL. I AM A
CRUZER; I WAS BRED TO SERVE. . .
I HAVE A PROBLEM , HOWEVER. YOU ARE SUCH AN INCREDIBLE SOLDIER, AND MAN,
THAT I FEEL COMPELLED TO YIELD MORE OF MYSELF TO YOU THAN WOULD BE PRUDENT
FOR EITHER OF US. YOU MAKE ME WANT TO *SUBMIT* YOU, SEXUALLY AND
EMOTIONALLY, GIVE *CONTROL* TO YOU, AS I HAVE SELDOM FELT COMPELLED TO
BEFORE. IT DOES NOT HELP THAT YOU ARE HOMOSEXUAL; CRUZERS ARE *VERY*
AROUSED BY MEN WHO ARE COMFORTABLE ENOUGH, SURE ENOUGH OF THEMSELVES AND
THEIR OWN SEXUALITY, TO HAVE SEX WITH EACH OTHER; ANOTHER GIFT FROM OUR
DESIGNER, I THINK. IN FACT, I HAVE BEGUN TO FEEL THE INCIPIENT URGE TO
BOND WITH YOU; BONDING WITH SUBORDINATE OFFICERS HAS BEEN KNOW TO OCCUR IN
SOME CRUZERS, AND BELIEVE ME, IT MAKES THINGS VERY COMPLICATED.
THE FACT REMAINS THAT TO ME, YOU HAVE MORE THAN EARNED CLAIM TO MY BODY,
AND I WANT YOU TO HAVE ME. MORE THAN THAT, I *NEED* TO GIVE MYSELF TO
YOU. SO, HERE'S WHAT I PROPOSE. I HAVE DESIGNED A VERY SPECIAL SET OF
ORDERS FOR YOU, ORDERS YOU CAN PERFORM FOR ME JUST BEFORE WE FUCK, THAT
WILL SHOW ME, AND KEEP IN MY MIND, THAT YOU ARE MY SUBORDINATE, AND THAT I
AM YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER. YOUR ORDERS ARE AS FOLLOWS:
1. IN THE BOX WITH THIS DATACHIP, YOU SHOULD ALSO HAVE FOUND AN ANCIENT
TERRAN STRAIGHTRAZOR. I'VE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF SHARPENING IT MYSELF,
IMPORTANT TO MY SENSE OF CONTROL. YOU'LL FIND THAT IT'S SHARP ENOUGH TO
CUT METAL. WITH IT, I WANT YOU TO SHAVE OFF EVERY BIT OF MY PUBIC HAIR
BEFORE YOU FUCK ME. SEEING YOU MAINTAIN YOUR CONTROL WHILE YOU PERFORM
THIS MOST INTIMATE SERVICE WILL HELP ME KEEP SOME DOMINANCE, AND HELP ME
VISUALIZE YOU IN A SURSERVIENT ROLE. FURTHERMORE, YOU MAY ONLY USE MY
SEMEN OR YOURS TO LUBRICATE THE HAIR BEFORE YOU SHAVE IT. I DON'T CARE
HOW YOU GET IT, SO LONG AS YOU DON'T FUCK ME BEFORE YOU FINISH SHAVING ME.
THIS WILL AGAIN HELP ME TO SEE YOU SERVING MY NEEDS BEFORE I ATTEMPT TO
SERVE YOURS.
2. I PLAN TO RESIST YOUR EFFORTS TO COMPLETE THE ABOVE ORDER. THIS IS A
SELFISH INDULGENCE ON MY PART, A CONSTRUCTION TO HELP ME REMEMBER THAT I'M
NOT "GIVING" YOU ANY OF MY CONTROL, BUT RATHER ORDERING YOU TO TAKE IT
FROM ME; THUS I NEVER ACTUALLY SURRENDER IT. I KNOW THIS SOUND NEEDLESSLY
COMPLICATED, BUT BELIEVE ME, YOU ARE TRIPPING WIRES IN ME I NORMALLY
RESERVE FOR COMMANDING OFFICERS. THIS ORDER IS VERY IMPORTANT. IN A
WEEK, THE ENTERPRISE WILL MAKE ORBIT AROUND STARBASE 63. THE STARTOWN
ASSOCIATED WITH THAT FACILITY IS PRETTY ROUGH. I PLAN TO TAKE MY SHORE
LEAVE THERE. I WANT YOU TO FOLLOW ME, AND AT SOME POINT, OVERPOWER ME AND
CARRY OUT ORDER #1. I WILL FIGHT YOU IF YOU GIVE ME THE CHANCE; I MAY
EVEN ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU; MY EMOTIONAL INVOLVEMENT IN THIS SITUATION HAS
BEEN VERY DIFFICULT TO SORT OUT. BE CAREFUL! I CAN TAKE ANYONE ON THE
SHIP IN A STRAIGHT FIGHT, AND YOU'RE NO EXCEPTION. YOU'LL BE AT YOUR BEST
IN CLOSE QUARTER FIGHTING, WHERE YOU CAN USE YOUR STRENGTH AND MASS
AGAINST ME. YOUR RECON AND INFILTRATION SKILLS ARE ALSO THE BEST I'VE
EVER SEEN; USE THEM. FINAL NOTE: I'LL BE PACKING MY AUTOPISTOL; YOU
MIGHT WANT TO WEAR A BALLISTIC VEST.
I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO TALK TO ME ABOUT THESE ORDERS. I MERELY EXPECT THEM
TO BE CARRIED OUT. FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION. LUCKILY, I WOULD NOT HAVE
GIVEN THEM TO YOU UNLESS I WAS FULLY CONFIDENT OF YOUR ABILITY TO CARRY
THEM OUT. THIS IS THE MOST DIFFICULT SET OF ORDERS I WILL *EVER* ASK YOU
TO PERFORM. I ASK BECAUSE I WANT TO GIVE MYSELF TO YOU, AND YET, I WANT
TO CONTINUE TO BE THE KIND OF COMMANDING OFFICER TO YOU THAT I KNOW YOU
WOULD WANT.
TRUST ME: IF YOU ARE SUCCESSFUL IN CARRYING OUT THESE ORDERS, WE WILL
BOTH HAVE A *FANTASTIC* TIME. GOOD HUNTING.
P.S. FREE ADVICE: I'LL BE PLAYING A ROLE ON SHORE LEAVE, A SEXUAL
FANTASY I'VE BE TOYING WITH FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS. I'LL PROBABLY BE
PRETTY DEEP INTO THE PART; THAT MIGHT HELP YOU IF YOU GET INTO TROUBLE.
ALSO, ONCE YOU GET DOWN TO SHAVING ME, I *LOVE* TO HAVE MY BELLY RUBBED,
ESPECIALLY WITH SOME LUBRICANT.
P.P.S. IF, IN THE COURSE OF ORDER #1, SHOULD YOU SEE MY EYES TURN FROM
BLACK TO A SORT OF MILK GRAY, THIS IS A SIGN OF INCIPIENT BONDING. RETURN
TO THE SHIP IMMEDIATELY IF THIS HAPPENS; CONSIDER THAT A DIRECT ORDER.
(SIGNED) MAJOR JUANITA VASQUEZ, CHIEF OF SECURITY, USS ENTERPRISE.
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