The BLTS Archive - First Officer Tourney by Janet Sides --- Disclaimer: Paramount giveth, and Paramount taketh away. But since I selleth this not, have mercy on my soul and my twisted imaginings, I beseech thee. This story is pure self-indulgent smut. Enjoy. --- "Good morning, my captain." She opened her eyes, immediately gathering her conscious mind around her mission. She turned toward the voice's origin, just a few feet away, and realized in the same moment that she was quite naked, and that Neelix was standing over her with a pot of -- "Ooohh, coffee," she sighed as she fought not to jerk backwards or cover herself. She *had* to maintain the fiction until she could find a way back to her own ship, in her own universe. When she reached for a steaming mug of what smelled like the richest Columbian coffee, with the cream already in it, the sheet her legs had tangled in as she slept slipped lower along her belly to expose her mons. A flush crept high along her cheeks as Neelix casually eyed her sex, and she covered her reaction by letting the steam from the mug halo her face as she dared a sip of the absolutely *celestial* coffee that lightly scalded her tongue. "Does my captain desire any service of me?" Her eyes flicked from the mug to his. An eerie, unmistakably knowing look transfigured a cuddly Talaxian into something vaguely demonic, and a shiver of disgust suddenly condensed the slack flesh of her clitoris into an astonished blunt bullet. With a casualness that belied her sudden spike of panic and bewildering response (he asks as if he does it all the time, as if this kate lets him touch her, lets him touch all of her) she arched an eyebrow and slightly shook her head as she hazarded another sip of hot rich caffeinated heaven. "No, thanks," and she smiled imperiously, relaxing into her languid posture and reveling in coffee and comfort -- the bed, she noted, was huge. So was the room, for that matter, and it led off to other interconnected cabins whose doors stood open like a luxury suite -- how much of the ship did this other Janeway keep all to herself, anyway? He bowed nervously, smiling but evidently fearful he had offended her. "Of course, captain. No doubt you wish to, er, save yourself for this evening. Since Mr. Tuvok, ah, died of food poisoning this morning, you'll be needing to appoint a new First Officer. Again." He cleared his throat. "Food poisoning?" she repeated, incredulously. Her lips thinned. "I see." Neelix was really cringing now. Obviously Kate's temper was well known to him. She waved a hand, languidly. "Dismissed." And she rolled over, careful not to spill the coffee as she presented her back to Neelix. "I'll -- I'll notify the crew. 1800 hours, my Captain?" "1800 hours?" she echoed, mystified. "You...*did* tell me last time that that was the best time of the day, my captain. I remember it distinctly..." "Yes," she interrupted, "yes, of course. Let me know when it's time." He bowed and bustled away, trying not to look as if he were fleeing her. *What the hell have I gotten into!* Janeway secured her quarters and pulled the sheet up to cover herself, shivering and absent-mindedly slurping at the coffee. She needed to be alert! Good god, what was this other Kate like? -- What did she need to know? It was obvious that life on this starship Voyager was very different, with Neelix slumming round her bedroom when she was *naked* and this purely...celestial...coffee... "Computer," she said, reluctantly putting down the mug and heading toward the sonic shower, "time till my duty shift starts." Maybe she had a little time to pry into her counterpart's personal possessions.She needed more clues -- she had no idea what behavior would seem normal here. "Please rephrase the question," said the computer, and Kathryn snapped from the quietly humming cubicle, "How soon till I have to be on the Bridge, dammit!" Good gods, was that a jacuzzi tub over there? It was enormous! "Today's schedule is free until 1800 hours," said the computer. "There is a First Officer tourney scheduled for that time. The captain must have a day of rest before the tourney, on her own orders." Kathryn emerged from the shower, frowning but clean. "Have there been...tourneys...before?" "Affirmative." "Are there records?" "Affirmative." "Show me the most recent one," ordered Janeway, and turned to find something to wear. No Starfleet uniforms? Strange...the closet contained nothing she recognized. Were these holodeck costumes, all these colors and rich fabrics? At last she found a pair of red silk pajamas -- the most similar available thing, she realized, to a uniform -- donned the pants, and turned toward the monitor screen as she buttoned up the top... ...in time to see herself in miniature, being unbuttoned out of a long, supple suede dress by Neelix, who stood behind her. Nimble fingers parted tiny button after tiny button, freeing her breasts, slowly exposing her belly. Kathryn gasped, then gasped again when she realized that there were easily a dozen members of her crew in the room watching with an air of great expectation. Harry Kim. Tom Paris. Seska -- my God, Seska as a true Cardassian. Chakotay. *Suder*. Some others not as familiar, men and women. A Kazon... And the Talaxian behind her reached the final button and spread the halves of the dress wide, displaying her nudity. Kathryn could see how excited her other self was, nipples jutting, eyes heavy-lidded and a little sly smile tugging at the side of her mouth. Her hair was loose, an auburn waterfall down her back. She almost wanted to avert her eyes from the spectacle of herself -- Kate Janeway! -- as lust incarnate. But she couldn't look away. She picked up the half-full mug of coffee and found it still hot enough, and she took another gulp as if to brace herself against the revelations. Neelix removed the dress from Kate and let it slither to the floor. The room was probably one of the holodecks -- it was a bower of rich hangings and brightly colored pillows, incense and Turkish carpets, and a raised dais in the center of the floor, also covered with lavishly embroidered and tasselled cushions. Some kind of harem fantasy from Tom Paris' library. Think of the devil. Neelix backed away (Kathryn breathed a small sigh of relief) as Lieutenant Paris -- this universe's Tom Paris, not quite clean-shaven, with tousled curls longer than she had ever seen on him -- stepped up to the dais. With a sarcastic flourish he saluted Kate, then seized her arms with a force that made her gasp -- Kathryn, watching, made a much softer but identical noise into her coffee mug. *This cannot be happening. This is insane, degrading! I can't watch this...* Paris did something Kathryn couldn't quite see that produced another gasp from the screen, and he took the gasp into his open mouth. My God. In profile, with the curls tumbling from his brow, mouth and eyes open, Tom Paris looked... *delicious*. And he was so rough-seeming with her, without ever hurting! The rhythm of hands and mouth over her body came easily to him: grasping her fiercely, but applying his mouth to the immobilized part with the acuity of a fine sable brush. And Kate sighed, eyes closed, utterly unconcerned with the eyes upon her as Tom Paris lay her down among the cushions and began to softly blow upon her sex... The door chime disconcerted Kathryn so completely that were her mug not empty, the room would have been spattered with coffee. Hastily she ordered the computer to halt and hide the playback. It was Neelix. "Ah! You're done," he said, cringing closer to take the empty coffee mug. "Excellent! You drank the whole dose this time. Why are you wearing pajamas, my captain?" "Dose?" Oh, God, what now? There was a puzzled pause. "I am following your instructions completely, I hasten to assure my captain --" "Prove it," she snapped, a cord of steel running through her tone. It was her I-want-answers-mister voice, and it had the desired effect on Neelix. "Review my instructions. You had better have them by heart!" Oops. Too much. He was trembling so hard she doubted he could speak intelligibly. But she waited, guessing that any more pressure from her might give him some kind of Talaxian apoplexy. He gathered his wits after a moment of her silence and recited. "You are to rest the whole day before the Tourney. You will not wear clothes. You will not eat, you will only have a six-milligram dose of antricataline in coffee --" Kathryn opened her mouth to question this, but held her tongue. She had to let him finish before he burst into tears. The computer would round out her understanding once she'd gotten rid of Neelix. "You will prefer to be left alone, but I am to stand ready for your call if you wish something. That is everything that you said, my captain!" Panic was creeping in. Had he forgotten something? "Very good, Mr. Neelix," she said as coldly as possible. "You may go." He wanted to bolt, she could tell, but he paused. "My captain --?" He nodded at her garments. Refusing to look down at herself, she thought of Kate's obvious self-indulgent streak and murmured, "I enjoy the feel of the silk. Go now." Neelix fled. "Computer," she said sharply once he had gone again, "what the hell is antricataline?" She'd never heard of it... The computer obligingly provided her with a schematic. She sat down at the desk monitor, silk pajamas hissing and caressing her with every motion. Her eyes flicked over the structure of molecules...a purely synthetic drug, whose probable effects included loss of appetite, feverish energy, mild euphoria, and...intense sexual cravings. It was a time-released series of drugs in one, made to last twenty hours, and peak highest after ten. 1800 hours. And she'd tipped up that mug, greedily slurping the last drops of mouth-watering coffee laced with designer aphrodisiacs...the full dose. 6 milligrams, had Neelix said? That sounded right...how soon would...? She got her answer as a dizzying wave of heat rippled over her skin, so that she felt nearly sunburned all over, and even the buttery-soft silk was scraping at her with its bright color and she had to take it off. Could she make herself vomit? Purge at least some of the drug from her system? No. It was too late, a little voice from elsewhere in her head whispered, and she listened, nodding dreamily. Besides, it could help her be who she needed to be tonight -- gods, by 1800 hours she was going to be climbing the walls in heat. *So what?*...murmured the mutinous Kate inside, a little louder with every beat of Kathryn's heart... "Computer, resume playback," she said to the air. Paris, however, withdrew after only a few minutes of the most delicate-looking sexual torture she could ever have imagined -- and then a voice startled Kathryn, her own voice, Kate's voice, over the video. "Paris doesn't want to win the tourney," it said, matter-of-factly, but with the faintest threat of displeasure. "Paris just wants to fly my ship -- and serve Harry Kim. That's why he went first, he knew it takes a long time under the drug and he didn't want to make me come." Her voice hardened. "It may be that Paris would disobey my direct order if it contradicted Kim's...I must make sure it doesn't. But if I kill Kim, Paris will be a poster child for murder/suicide, and I'd lose a damned good pilot." Kathryn's head was swimming. The implication of a relationship between Mr. Paris and Mr. Kim did not surprise her particularly -- it was a pairing she had secretly rooted for -- but what about not wanting to make her come...? And this cavalier talk of killing an officer...? Like Tuvok, and his food poisoning. In the meantime, the next contender had stepped up onto the dais. Seska. "I've never met a Cardassian yet that could make me come," said the other Janeway, "but the things she whispered to me made me seriously wonder for a minute or two whether she was going to take the Tourney right there and then! I suggest turning up the volume. You don't want to miss this." But Kathryn's hearing had become so acute she didn't need to. "So here you are," hissed Seska to Kate, pinching her nipples with casual brutality. Kate writhed dreamily, eyes bright and unfocused, breathing deeply, and she lolled backward over Seska's powerful grey-scaled arm. Seska's long hair was pulled back into a long braid, exposing her fine neck and cheekbones, and the pale, sinuous reptilian curves complemented Kate's red-gold glow. "Here you are, you proud bitch, lying open to me and panting for it. You know something, kitty?" Her fingers spread the lightly-furred folds of Kate's vulva. "I don't care if you come. I don't care who gets to climb to the top through the captain's cunt. I'll be running this ship before the next tourney -- and then you will serve *me*." Kate moaned. Kathryn looked on in horror and furtive, guilty lust as Seska pushed Kate's legs back till her knees met her chest. There was a murmur around the room as she was fully and completely exposed. Everyone could see how wet she was, how much she liked this... Growling, Seska positioned herself so that her own sex butted up against Kate's, and commenced thrusting at her as a man would. Kathryn could see the ridge of scales frilling the Cardassian's mons and winced as Seska slammed that ridge again and again against Kate's swollen clitoris. And Kate moaned... "I don't care if you come," Seska was whispering through gritted teeth, over and over. "I just want to hurt you and watch you like it." And Kate...moaned, gasped...and whimpered in protest when the computer in the holodeck called 'time' and Seska had to step down. "Have fun," said Seska casually to Kate Janeway as she withdrew, and pinched her once, hard, on the inside of her thigh before she left. "Bitch," came Kate's voiceover. "I had that bruise for weeks..." but her voice held a sort of lurking respect for Seska, and Kathryn shivered as she wondered if this universe's Seska were still alive. The shiver became a shudder, as Suder approached next. "Computer, stop playback!" cried Kathryn Janeway, leaping up and away from the monitor. Suder! She couldn't watch that... "Unable to comply," said the computer, and Kathryn's world distended for a little while, then fragmented like a mosaic, and she never got a chance to make the computer explain this convenient refusal. She lay panting and dazed on the bed, staring unfocused at the screen... Suder's pale, feverishly animated hands were clever and determined on Kate's flesh, though the still, cold, mad light in his glittering black eyes seemed fixed elsewhere. But after the bombardment of sensation from Seska's ridges, Suder's efforts plainly did not suit Kate, and she whimpered and twisted, pouting, till his turn was over. "Ooh, here comes Tuvok," Kate's voice purred. "Pretty convenient timing for pon farr, if you ask me...but that's logical...mind you, I'm not complaining!" Tuvok had not been in the room earlier, but he was here now, and the intensity of his presence filled the room even in a recording. In a few moments they were writhing on the dais, his long fingers splayed over her temple, his lean well- muscled body trembling with suppressed violence, and her own pale curves -- Kate had a bit more flesh than Kathryn -- trembling with rapidly-incapacitating pleasure. They coupled with smooth ferocity, and the others in the room started to mutter in resignation. "It was amazing," said Kate. "What he was doing to my mind even as he was fucking me. He pushed right in and yanked out one of my fantasies, the one about the slave auction, made me live it in my head while he fucked me. Gods, it spoiled me for anything else. For a little while, anyway." Her face was locked open with astonished pleasure, fingers digging into Tuvok's powerful shoulders. Her eyes were firmly shut, roving over the landscape of a fantasy even as she lived one out. Tuvok whispered something into Kate's ear just before the time ran out, and she stiffened and began to wail. She came in visible waves, muscles spasming, crying out one long distended note of satisfaction. There was a note of laughter in Kate's voiceover. "He said...'Sold'," and then she did laugh. And Kathryn snickered despite herself. The computer's voice: "Tourney is ended. Commander Tuvok is first officer." They did not stop fucking. The assembled crew began dispersing and paying out on bets. The recording was over. Kathryn consulted the computer for the time: there were more than eight hours before they would be looking for her on a certain pillow- strewn dais, and she intended to be hell-and-gone from this place long before then, drugs or no drugs. Hell, she could leave Kate a note, a little friendly prediction: this time it would be Chakotay. By a nose. Or something. She snickered again, then got a grip, drinking glass after glass of cold water from the replicator (no rations readout on the panel, she noticed) to clear her head. Kate's sense of humor was unsettlingly like her own. Kathryn shuddered, and began her plans of escape. But she kept the silk pajamas. And she pinched a pound of Kate's coffee -- minus the antricataline -- from Neelix's stores before she activated the device that sent her home. --- The End