Stupid fucking plant. Oh, nice language, Kathryn. Very becoming of a captain. Still though, what else will suffice? Besides it feels bloody good. So - once more with feeling. Stupid fucking plant. And I'm going to find the bastard who gave it to us - and the one who took it on board. I'm going to slowly skin and roast them alive.
Five hours. Five fucking hours. There's that word again. Five fucking hours of being held hostage by this mass of stems. Oh, I should have called for help at the start. I know that now. At that stage all it had was my hair. Of course, Kathryn Janeway doesn't girlishly call for help, especially because she's been snagged by a damn branch. So I struggled on against it and made it worse. Did I learn as my situation worsened? Did I hell as like. It's so easy to be wise after the event, isn't it?
So worse it got. And boy, worse it is. What started out as a few slim tendrils grabbing my hair has descended into my entire upper body tied down across the top of my desk. So you can see now why calling for help isn't the most attractive option. Who would want to be found in this position? I'm helplessly pinned face down, legs hanging over the edge of my desk, cheek pressed hard against the smooth wood and now one of my ankles has been grabbed. Add to that it's 02.00 and you'd struggle on too.
God, can it get any worse? Scratch that. The doors to my ready room have just opened and closed again. Of course I can't turn my head an inch to see who's there but it's highly unlikely whoever it is will fail to notice the forest in the middle of the room with their captain's ass sticking out of it. In the faint hope of some miracle, I finally stop struggling and keep my mouth shut. Maybe they'll go away. Well, I can dream as well here as in bed, can't I?
The hand on my hip makes me jump and jerk my head which pulls my hair and makes me yelp. Big mistake. My open mouth lands on one of the thicker stems and now I've just proceeded in gagging myself on top of everything else. The tendrils tighten again and breathing is about all I'm capable of with the exception of flailing my one unrestrained limb.
I can only grunt now and I'm giving a good impression of a deep throat symphony. My 'audience' remains silent. Maybe that's because his hands are too busy stroking up and down over my hips and ass. And it is 'his'. The hands roaming my lower body are too large to belong to a woman.
I 'scream' helplessly against my gag but stop quickly as a sting spreads across my ass. Shit, that hurt. I try to kick with my unbound leg but it doesn't remain that way for long. My tormentor has actually pulled a stem around my free ankle and it tightens quickly. Now I'm totally helpless. I can't move a muscle.
He can move though. His hands travel to the front of my pants and make short work of opening them. In seconds they're pulled down but won't move past my mid thighs because of my spread legs. My panties don't get that far. They're simply ripped from my body, tearing a loud grunt from my throat.
I can't outwardly jump or pull away when his fingers begin to assault my sex but inside I'm screaming and cursing, all to no avail. I've finally accepted that the more I struggle against this thing, the worse it gets and the tighter it holds me.
I still suddenly as a blinding revelation dawns on me. My situation with this plant is much like my relationship with the man who strokes me now. The more I struggled against him, the worse I felt and the tighter he held on. When I finally stopped fighting and gave in...well...
He leans over me and pushes my tunic up my back as far as he's able, laying small kisses up and down my spine. He's gentle with me at first, the hand between my parted thighs working me up to produce the moisture he requires. And it doesn't take him long to get what he wants. He knows exactly where to tweak, caress and tease to obtain the desired produce. Once that's sorted, the gentleness fades and I know I'm in for a very 'rough ride'.
I hear the sound of his pants being dropped and then the heated hardness of him against my butt. The hand between my legs spreads what is now almost a waterfall of my juices over me and I feel him hot and hard against my entrance a split second before he plunges deeply into me. His initial thrust is almost brutal, his body slamming against mine and forcing me hard against the desk as he impales me. All I can do is squeal and pull against my restraints but nothing gives. I'm completely helpless and at the mercy of the man who fills my body and God what that does to me.
I moan deeply which only spurs him on. He subjects me to what can only be described as a fierce hammering. I'll worry about the bruises from his harsh treatment in the morning. He fills me beyond measure as he pistons in and out of me but I'm unable to scream out to let him know what he's doing to me. This isn't making love. He's fucking me. It's that base and that primal and I'm almost floating outside my own body with the sheer animalistic sensations he's arousing in me.
His hands move to my breasts for a few moments although God knows how he managed to get to them. He punishes them hard for a while, squeezing and pinching them through the fabric of my uniform, leaving them throbbing and tingling before his hands move back to my hips to grip them tightly, even though we both know I can't move. It's the thrill of holding me in place, I think. It turns him on and he's not the only one.
For a brief moment I panic when it occurs to me that anyone could come into this room, despite the lateness of the hour, but somehow that just adds to the intensity. I expect him to reassure me but he hasn't spoken once and at this moment, I don't want him to. All I want is for these feelings to continue.
This is something he seems to know and he happily obliges. He's drawing strength from God alone knows where as he continues to plunder my body. If anything he's swelled inside me, stretching me as never before as he rams and pounds me. And then hard fingers stab and pinch at my clit and I'm flying. Stars explode around me, leaving me straining against the stems as my body spasms and jerks in an intense orgasm. I attempt to scream but it escapes as some kind of strangled gurgle.
When I slowly begin to come down I can still feel him like steel inside me, his pace slower now. And then something else. His thumb, I think, coated in my juices, pressing hard against my anus. This is something we barely touched on, going no further than him asking me if I'd ever tried it and me shying away from the idea although I was curious and I know it showed. For a moment, I feel deep resentment against him for using this time to try it, knowing I can't resist, and I struggle and curse him. Then I'm angry and my mind threatens him with death or at least serious brig time, but all these thoughts flee when my ring muscle relaxes under his attention and he's in. Oh God, this can't be right. I'd always believed this wasn't about pleasure for the woman but I guess I'd heard wrong. He's still deeply imbedded in me and I can almost feel the two parts of him meet inside me creating an erotic friction. I try and control my breathing, desperate to understand what I'm feeling.
And then I'm empty and I want to cry before he's pressing into me again, at that heretofore forbidden place this time. A brief pressure and then he's filling me and I cry out in ecstasy at the fullness I'm experiencing as he ploughs painlessly past any remaining resistance, both physically and emotionally. I'm vaguely conscious of stiff fingers pressing into and against other places but all I'm really aware of is my entire body ready to explode in some supernova of sensation as his body spears mine. I build again and when it erupts I know I could happily die without a single regret.
Reality is slow to reassert itself and it takes me some time to realize I'm free and that I'm lying on the couch in my ready room. He's sitting beside me, smiling down at me. I jerk up and see that I'm dressed again. He smirks and dangles my torn panties in front of my eyes.
"I'm afraid they didn't survive. I'll replicate you some new ones." When he sees me looking towards the plant, he laughs. "You obviously didn't read the care instructions. It relaxes and releases you when you're gentle with it. Stroke its main branches and stems and it lets go."
My earlier revelation returns to me but I lie back, too exhausted to think about it at the moment. I try for anger but the faint smile I can't hide gives me away. "You play very dirty, Commander."
He leers at me but I see the deep love there too. "Can't blame a man for taking advantage." His face softens. "Besides, once I felt you relax I knew you were....willing."
He's right. I know he'd have stopped had he sensed I really didn't want it. He sees this in my eyes and his smile widens. "Anyway, isn't it the Starfleet way to take every opportunity and turn it into something positive? Something about playing the advantage?"
I laugh at that. "I seriously doubt the regulations were written with this in mind."
He looks over at the greenery. "I don't know. It sounds pretty much like everything we've encountered out here in this quadrant."
I sober for a moment, knowing he's right. I'm too drained to analysis it too deeply though. I do know one thing. I elbow him. "First thing in the morning...that plant goes."
He smirks at that. "I was kind of hoping we could keep it...maybe take cuttings so we could have several of them. It does have its uses..."
Feeling the aching throb between my legs, my body still humming with pleasure and satisfaction, he has a point. I look back towards my botanical 'friend'. I called it 'a stupid fucking plant'. Maybe it's not so stupid after all. And as to the 'fucking' part...