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"Wow! Will you get a load of this place!" The wide-eyed Klingon stood at the entrance of a grand convention being held at this Delta quadrant space station.
Lt. Torres and Ensign Vorik had set out from Voyager to secure parts and tools. The pair had hurried to the convention in barely contained excitement, but what greeted them were not instruments or replacements parts for their starship. Oh no….far from it.
Amidst the great hall were a variety of booths, demonstrations and announcements in a vast assortment of languages. A cacophony of sounds and sights and smells assaulted the pair as they passed through the golden legs.
The Vulcan officer by her side was more subdued in his astonishment. "Lt., This does not look like a starship tools convention."
"I know it doesn’t!” The Klingon was masking her embarrassment with anger. “Just try to find something useful… For the ship!” She amended as the Vulcan shot her a look. “We came all this way, we can at least take a look around." The Klingon reproached her fuddy duddy assistant. She was beginning to regret having brought him, but someone had to hold her bags.
The last minute order had arrived while she and Vorik were in engineering. B’Elanna would have preferred the company of Tom Paris or even Harry Kim. But, alas, they both were attending to their duties and were not available. Seven of Nine had offered to accompany her, but B’Elanna hastily grabbed Vorik to ward off the Borg Amazon.
At the first stall, there was an assortment of oils in fine vials, elegant glass containers and in large plastic bulk bottles. B’Elanna sniffed at a delicate glass vial.
"Mmmm," she murmured in approval as the aroma was released. Vorik leaned closer to share in the intoxication.
In unison they murmured, "Sandalwood!" They smirked to each other and replaced the ornate stopper. The Klingon made the purchase for herself.
The pair continued up and down the aisles commenting on certain items of interest. They were not finding any tools or computer components that could be of use, but the pair was beginning to get into the spirit of things. The pair was beginning to realize what the convention’s theme was, but they kept that fact to themselves. As B’Elanna paused to examine an object d'art, Vorik protectively pulled her away.
"Do you realize how many people have touched that!" He commented with revulsion. The stoic Vulcan shuddered in embarrassment as he saw others enjoying their examination. An uptight Vorik could not even bring himself to touch anything. He kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back. But a hint of amusement lingered upon his stern visage. B’Elanna by contrast was a bundle of exuberant delight.
Then they found the aisle with the technical equipment. But it was not equipment for the proper running of a starship. There were cyber vaginas for those who were caught between a rock and a hard-on with no hole in sight. An assortment of anal probes and vibrators with what looked like bunny ears. All included jellies and detailed directions on their uses. The major warning for the probe: only use them with a base
When an elfin-like female shyly inquired why she should only use anal probes with a base, her question was answered with a photo. She made sure she got one with an extra wide base.
They saw a crop, with an extra long feather. A French tickler? B’Elanna had thought that was just a legend, but now having seen one in the flesh...of a handsome alien, she became a convert.
"We did not need to eat before we came here. There is plenty to snack on," the Klingon quipped as she sampled the various edible powders and oils and creams.
Vorik was astounded at how his commanding officer was taking all of this. He was most impressed with her behavior and was pleased that she had requested his presence on this excursion. Ever since he had assaulted her, first in engineering then again on the planet surface, two years ago, the chief engineer had treated him with less than professional regard. Vorik had resigned himself to the fact that whatever mutual respect they had exchanged in the past had been burned away in the heat of his Pon Farr. But this time alone was rekindling their former interchanges. The uncertainty of her regard for him had taxed Vorik’s mastery. Many an evening had been spent in deep meditations to ward off the anxiety until he reached a point where he no longer experienced that discomfort. But it has always seemed that there had been something unresolved between them. Vorik had believed that an apology was required him But B’Elanna would never allow him an opportunity to be alone with her, to beg for her pardon at his offensive behavior. Vorik wondered if perhaps this would be that opportunity.
They stopped at a particular table and admired from afar. A gorgeous alien was demonstrating a device known as a ‘ladybug’. Upon her shapely thighs, thin straps were cinched. She helpfully held up her gown for all to see the device she was selling. There, amidst her lovely dark tuft, was a deep burgundy saucer held snug against her sex by the straps. Customers took turns adjusting the remote control on and off, thereby pleasuring the clitoris and outer labia of the lovely green-skinned female.
Vorik thought that she bore a resemblance to an Orion and wondered if her reaction would resemble that of the highly sexual species. His question was answered as the small female responded most enthusiastically. Her behavior only encouraged the customers to visit the stall. People were hollering over the table and flashing money at the seller for their purchase of this lovely device. The Universal translator interpreted the term as a “ladybug”. Prospective buyers were also requesting a turn at pleasuring the girl.
B’Elanna purchased one for herself.
"Lt. Paris will be singing your praises until the New Year," Vorik commented in a low voice. He grew bold in this carnival like atmosphere.
"Well, I prefer that he moans my name," B’Elanna too felt a degree of intimacy with the Vulcan. He was not resembling the pa’tak she usually considered him to be. Of all the people on the ship, she was glad that he was here with her right now. The pair shared a giggle as they continued their stroll. Vorik was beginning to loosen up, as each stall contained new surprises and delights.
While B’Elanna was busying herself with the manuals, Vorik sauntered over to a nearby stall. He spied a gift that he could not resist. He covertly and hurriedly gave the seller his credits and snuck his secret purchase into his uniform pocket. He returned to B’Elanna's side and peered over her shoulder.
"Mmm, now that will be a much referred to text." Vorik murmured his approval in her ear
"Yes, indeed it will be," the Klingon absently replied as she turned the book to see all the angles of the interesting foursome depicted within the photographic sex journal.
There were informative demonstrations and much banter. After a few hours and many purchases, the pair began to tire of the erotic toys and sexual demonstrations. They were eager to return to the ship.
As B’Elanna heaped her bags upon the empty handed Vulcan, she coyly inquired, "You didn’t buy anything?" B’Elanna coyly inquired.
"Yes, I did.” Vorik stated quite proudly. “I purchased a gift, for you."
Her curiosity was piqued, “ Oh really? Is that to make up for what you put me through?” B’Elanna tossed her short hair back from her face.
She enjoyed watching Vorik squirm as that dishonorable subject was implied. It had grown into a silent, smoldering anger between them. It had been his arrogance at actually attempting to force a bond between them that had enraged her. As if she were his to claim when he wished to do so! But she got her satisfaction. She could see his rage at being bested in combat by her. She knew that had always eaten away at him. It would have eaten away at her. His polite people’s etiquette had demanded that he seek her pardon. But she was not about to give it. But to B’Elanna’s surprise, he never sought it.
And that pleased her. It raised him in her esteem. He made no apologies for his instinct or in his approach to a resolution. If he had come to her sniveling and begging for her forgiveness, she would have thrown him out of her department with an angry reassignment request sent off to the Captain. Then the chief engineer made him struggle, for every scrap of respect and credibility while in her department. He bore her silence and uncertainty with great stoicism. Now that was the kind of mettle she wanted to see in her department. If he proved himself in the next testing sequence, Lt. Toress knew that she would recommend him for a promotion.
"Perhaps it was most fortuitous that Lts Kim and Paris were not available
to accompany you," Vorik commented as he stowed B’Elanna’s bags into the
compartments. It was quickly becoming more difficult to find places for
her purchases.
"I know! They would have bought the place out!" B’Elanna replied as
she settled into her seat.
"To be certain." Vorik snickered to himself as settled into his seat
beside hers and began the pre-launch checklist.
"We would have needed to bring another shuttlecraft to bring home their
purchases," B’Elanna quipped as she strapped her seat belt on.
Hours passed…Vorik had taken the first leg of the journey in order
to let his CO sleep in the small bunk in the rear of the shuttle.
After the busy day, they welcomed the respite.
She was awakened by a strange phrase floating through her mind, "Uhura
watched as her goddess undulated..."
The Klingon sat up in a confused state.
She thought to herself, "Hmm, wonder what that was all about? A Smut
Convention moment in my sleep? I must be addicted."
While rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she trudged to the cockpit to relieve Vorik of his piloting shift.
As Vorik took his leave of her, his eyes glanced over to his brown paper bag, which he had conspicuously left on the seat. With a subtle quirk of his brows he encouraged her to notice its presence. The Ensign left without another word.
The sleepy Klingon plopped down into the pilot's seat. She waited for the doors to slide shut behind Vorik, before grabbing the bag. . The paper crinkled as she opened it to see what was inside. All by itself, was a golden satin covered box.
Her fingers slipped over the satin cover then untied the purple ribbon
with one gentle tug. Her eyes widened in delight as she spied the contents
of the box. There enveloped in burgundy velvet was a device of great...pleasure.
"Oh Vorik you shouldn't have!" The chief Engineer wondered what possessed
him to purchase such a device. She put the box back down on the seat beside
her and attempted to concentrate on the shuttle craft course. But it was
as if the box were calling her name, challenging her to peek inside once
again. Her curiosity was getting the best of her.
She removed the silver egg-shaped present from its soft confines. It
fit nicely into the palm of her hand. The sleek silver shone in the
dim over-head lights.
She was alone in the cockpit as Vorik slept. Alone...all alone...no
one to bother her...or so she hoped...
As she held the silver bullet in her hand, the cord it was attached
to unraveled. Her other hand fingered the buttons of the control box. As
she imagined the possibilities, B’Elanna pressed her thighs tightly together,
her muscles deep inside involuntarily flexed.
"Mmm," she murmured to herself. She enjoyed the cool feel of
the smooth steel in her hand and her heart began to beat in excitement
as she dared herself to think about the possibilities.
While lost in smutty thoughts, her thumb accidentally brushed over
the controls and a low hum rippled through the silver egg.
"Hmmmm." Her curiosity and excitement intensified. "Well it does
not have a base...so…it must be for one purpose only."
The lone Klingon wondered what it would feel like, this silver egg,
deep inside her body, vibrating her flesh from within, creeping and crawling
inside her canal with a mind of its own.
"Oh my...I wonder?" She whipped out her book. The road map to the g-spot.
"Ahhh... there. That could be a possibility. Well, I am alone
and there are a few more hours on this flight. Why not do a little...research...."
In a flash, B’Elanna whipped off her boots and pants. While holding
her breath in excitement, she turned the silver egg on then gently placed
it on her tuft of hair between her legs. She sighed then laid back in the
leather pilot seat, enjoying the feel of the vibrating egg all over her
hungry sex, slipping over thick wet flesh and a nub made extra sensitive
by her growing excitement. The sexually charged atmosphere of the convention
had done more than its fair share of arousing the Klingon. Her body was
ready and eager for this enticement.
Then with a slight poke, the little silver treasure slipped in. Her
eyes widened in pleasure as the egg vibrated and burrowed its way deep
into her body.
"Mmm that is interesting,” she thought to herself.
She thanked Kah’less for the wire because she had no idea how to remove
it later.
Then she laid back further, her thighs pressed against the chair arms,
legs spread wide open as the egg was pulled out then allowed to wriggle
its way back into her body, all the while hitting her g-spot.
Deep pleasure washed through B’Elanna’s body and mind in tidal waves of
ecstasy. Lithe eager fingers began to play with her swollen nub almost
reverentially.
As the egg hummed her to a deep orgasm, she lifted her legs from the
armrest, then pressed her stocking feet against the edge of the console.
Her body bucked as she felt her climax ebbing closer and closer to fruition.
Then…
WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP
"What the?"
She had hit the panel!
She sat up quick! The egg was still deep in her body, her sex quivering
from the impending climax of her life. The viewscreen flipped on and revealed
the face Commander Chakotay.
With his brows furrowed in confusion, the tanned-faced first officer of the Starship Voyager urgently inquired, "What is going on shuttle craft Galileo? Do you require assistance?"
B’Elanna's face was flushed purple. She was stunned into silence
Chakotay repeated, "Is everything all right, B’Elanna? Your distress
signal was activated."
B’Elanna tried to close her legs and compose herself. "No, I am fine."
she replied in a quick thin voice. She swallowed hard, but could not look
the officer in the face. She had lost track of time and they were now within
hailing frequency of their starship.
"Well, you through us all into a panic. See you back on Voyager. Chakotay
out.” The face of the first officer winked off of the viewscreen
as he closed the channel. Lt. B’Elanna Torres let out a sigh of relief.
"Well...that was a close call." B’Elanna announced to the air.
"Well, that will teach you not to peek into packages..."
B’Elanna whipped around to see Vorik. . Damn Vulcan stealth, she thought to herself. She had not heard him enter the cockpit. There he was, propped against the door jam, his arms folded across his chest. Did she detect a faint trace of a smirk?
"So...” Vorik looked his flustered superior officer up and down; "Did
you enjoy yourself?"
