The BLTS Archive - The Dress
by Hannah H. (hannah1971@aol.com)

---

Slavery has been outlawed in this country for over a century, but
Paramount still owns Major Kira, Garak the obsequious tailor, Lt. Dax
*and* the symbiont, the Promenade, and all the rooms and items of
furniture on DS9 that these folks mill around. The story, however, and
all of its charming flaws, are mine. Thank you, thank you very much.
Okay, folks, Elvis has left the building...

Copyright 1995

---

Major Kira Nerys glared at the tangle of poppy-red fabric she had just
thrown on her bed. The cheery pile, with its convoluted ties and
straps, mocked her. After 45 minutes of struggling to put it on, she
had become convinced that the gown had a mind of its own.

She had ordered her bedroom lights darkened earlier while she readied
herself for her night out with Lieutenant Dax, but now, muttering in
disgust, she found that the somber lighting echoed her mood.

"Damn!" she hissed the Terran word easily, as if it were in her native
Bajoran. "Damn!"

After two years together on the station, Kira had finally let Jadzia
Dax talk her into taking part in one of Dax's elaborate holonovel
programs--a Risan formal hospitality ball that all the planet's
visitors were expected to attend. Dax had even gone so far as to order
new gowns for them from Garak's shop on the Promenade.

But when Kira had seen Dax's choice for her, she had almost backed
out--almost--but the guileless expression on Jadzia's face had stopped
her. After two years of reliable friendship, a friendship she never
could have had growing up as she did under Cardassian occupation, Kira
conceded sullenly that she owed the Trill at least this one thing.
Even if it involved a shocking dress that revealed far more that it
concealed. They were, after all, Dax reminded her, going "stag." So
she had taken the gown back to her quarters...

And now, an hour later, the gown looked nothing like the intricate
vermilion sheath she had secretly admired on the mannequin in the
Cardassian tailor's shop, and she was angry. She picked the cloth up
from the bed and tossed it on the floor for good measure. One good
evening off--wasted, she thought.

The chirp of her communicator startled her. "Dax to Kira."

Oh, great, Kira's thoughts growled, then she responded. "Kira here."

"We're still on for 20:00, in Holosuite Beta, right?" Jadzia's
cheerful voice did little to mask the teasing tone. "That's one hour,
Kira..."

"I know, I know," Kira responded quickly, realizing that if she
thought too long, she would back out quicker than a vole in a roomful
of targs. "I'm just having some trouble getting into this dress,
Jadzia--it doesn't look like it did on the mannequin." She hated the
whiny tone in her voice.

"So? Call Garak. He made it. Besides," Dax teased, "I'm sure he'd give
anything to dress you..."

"20:00, then--Jadzia," the major replied curtly, trying not to smile.
"Kira out."

Kira finally chuckled as Dax's weird humor melted some of her
annoyance. She stood next to the bed again, hands on her hips, staring
at the gown on the floor. Call Garak, indeed. No length of Andorian
rose cloth was going to best her,  no matter how intricate the
lacings. She called Garak.

"Yes, Madam," the tailor replied unctuously, and Kira could feel his
smile through the comm lines. "What a lovely surprise. I hope you're
not having any problems with your new acquisition."

"As a matter of fact, I am," Kira said. "Can you come to my quarters
and show me how to put this thing on?" She quickly added, "No comments
either, Garak."

"Of course not, Major." Kira felt the smile widen. "I'm about to close
my shop. I'd love to come and--dress you... Garak out."

Kira sighed as she picked the dress from the floor and made her way to
the mirror in the other room to start working on her hair. Back on the
Promenade, Garak shooed three customers from his store, explaining
that he needed to close two hours early for a "personal emergency."

---

The tailor buzzed at her quarters not ten minutes later, as Kira was
just finishing coaxing the last small curl into her short, auburn
hair. It was a nice effect--one that the station's inhabitants were
never allowed to appreciate. When she deactivated the security lock
for Garak, he found her in a short, white tunic native to her own
planet, with the gown slung over her arm.

He made an appreciative noise in his throat as he admired her bare
legs. "Major," he began, "I don't know why you're bothering with the
dress, when your own attributes are so... becoming."

"Garak!" Kira thrust the dress at him violently. "It was Dax's idea
for you to help me. Now, either untangle this thing, or get out!"

"Well, with a choice like that, the answer is obvious." He stepped
fully into her suite, taking the garment she offered him. He began to
untangle the straps and laces as Kira went back to the mirror to apply
lipstick. Another of Dax's ideas. She noticed Garak glancing with some
interest as she finished the job, and turned back to observe him.

"That should do it," he said as he held the gown up by its multiple
shoulder straps. Kira noted with some relief that it again looked like
it had in the shop. "Now, Major, if you will remove your robe and come
over here--oh, don't look so alarmed. I probably should have told you
when you bought this gown, but it's impossible to put it on without
assistance."

A look of disbelief crossed the Bajoran woman's face. "Yes, you
probably should have told me that earlier."

"Major, major, major..." Garak waved a hand dismissively. "I see it
every day, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact," he
smiled as he took another look at her legs, "I'm quite certain you
have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Fine," Kira replied, hesitating just a moment before unclasping the
soft belt that pulled the tunic close to her body, and wondering what
the Prophets were thinking in setting her up to stand half-clothed in
front of a Cardassian, even if it was just Garak. "But if I find out
you've told anyone about this..."

"I *am* a professional, madam."

When the covering came off, Garak tried very hard not to suck in his
breath. It was an admirable struggle, really, but when Kira stood five
feet away from him in nothing but a black chemise, the sound in the
back of his throat returned. Every centimeter of exposed skin, on her
arms, her shoulders, and her thighs, was as smooth as her legs had
promised they would be. As a tailor he had resented the uniforms so
many station residents wore because they cut into his business, but as
a male... he despised them. They hid so much.

"Now, come here, Major." The catch in his voice was subtle, but Kira
heard it and approached him warily, her eyes narrowed. "You'll have to
take that off as well. Come now, do you really think that this dress
was meant to be worn with 'foundation garments'?"

"Garak..." Kira answered warningly, feeling a flush build.

"I'm truly flattered that you find standing in front of me nude
threatening, but the fact of the matter is, you're meeting your good
friend Dax in--what--forty-five minutes? I think you would be quite
popular on Risa wearing just that, but won't Jadzia be disappointed?
She picked this gown out all by herself..."

Kira weighed the options in her head. Would it be ridiculous to turn
back now, when she was already standing here in her underwear in front
of the tailor? Her people weren't particularly obsessive about being
covered, not like the Terrans--thank the Prophets--and she really did
want to wear the dress. Dax had spent quite a bit of latinum on it.
She lifted the chemise over her head, and immediately regretted it.

Garak had stepped closer to her, and she recognized the expression he
wore--though she had never seen it on him--as one of male desire. No
amount of hard cartilage and gray scales could mask that look. As he
lifted the gown above her head, she suddenly felt warm. And not a
little afraid.

"Garak..."

"Major, hold your tongue, just for now. I'll need to concentrate in
order to do this properly..."

The thoughts swam in her head as she realized that she was naked in
her quarters with a Cardassian--no, a male, his being Cardassian had
little to do with it now--and her vision was obscured by the dress he
was bringing down over her head. She felt the laces and pieces of
fabric rain down onto her hair as she wriggled her upper body into the
gown, and then she felt Garak's hands on her, smoothing the cloth down
the length of her midsection, trailing down her waist. Kira shivered,
and the fine hair on her arms stood on end.

And then the dress was pulled firmly down in a quick motion and
immediately fit against her skin. She looked down at herself and knew
why she would never have been able to put in on alone. Bands of poppy-
red, silky fabric criss-crossed over her waist, shoulders, and
breasts, and she could feel them on her back as well. Stunned at the
sensation of the cloth following her as she breathed, she remained
quiet as the tailor pulled the thinner laces and thicker straps into
place, covering her sometimes, mostly uncovering her, moving his rough
fingers under her breasts and over her shoulders, making certain not a
millimeter of fabric was out of place.

She allowed her hands to rest on his broad back, enjoying the
attention for the first time as his hands moved efficiently down her
thighs, tying a knot in one place and straightening a lace in another.
So this was what it was like, being 'dressed.' She caught sight of
herself in the mirror she had used earlier, and, forgetting to
breathe, wondered at how this pile of senseless cloth had turned her
into a ...

"A goddess." Garak was on his knees on the floor, looking up at her.
"Nerys," he said softly. "You're a goddess." And with the light
shining through the red-brown curls around her face, and with a dress
that must have been designed by a deity, and with this postulant in
kneeling in front of her, she was. And he ran his hands up her thighs
to her hips, pulling her to him, and placed his lips gently on her
exposed belly.

She drew her breath in, for a moment knowing he was right. And she
allowed him to kiss her again, on the soft skin of her belly, as one
might wish to kiss a goddess. And then he stood, and she said his
name. At least she meant to say it before he kissed her on her mouth,
cutting off any protest she might have been inclined to give.

At that particular moment, however, Kira Nerys was not inclined to
protest. At this particular moment, she wanted to be worshipped.
Garak's hands, so efficient before, caressed her slowly, feeling the
expanses of skin between the shreds of cloth, teasing the short hairs
at the back of her neck, and gently lifting one breast from out of its
fiery cage.

"Garak," Kira barely said as he sucked the nipple into his mouth. The
delicious feeling travelled from her breast as a current over the
surface of her skin.

"Nerys, you're a waking dream," he replied between pulls. His other
hand moved down to her hips, releasing one, then two, then three of
the knots he had just tied. The lower half of Kira's dress slipped
from her legs, exposing her fully to his eyes. His mouth found hers
again as he pushed her back toward her bed.

Letting her precede him onto the bed, Garak slipped a knee between her
thighs, opening her enough so that he could rest between her legs,
caressing the flesh of her shoulders and abdomen, the skin that was
still partially trapped in the prison he had created. There was
something so perfect about his heavy weight on her, and this time she
forgot how to breathe as his hand slipped between them, pushing the
red fabric completely out of his way.

Freeing himself only enough to slide into her, he worshipped this
woman, the goddess he had created with his bolts of fabric,
autoshears, and tricorder. And she allowed him to, feeling his desire,
and his adoration, and wondering why she had never realized it before.
As his rough skin pushed against her own soft flesh, she felt the
climax approaching, amazed at how quickly it had come, how quickly she
was coming, and then she felt the Cardassian tense on top of her, and
the waves of his fluid poured into her. She felt the hot pressure
against her womb, the force of an ejaculation normal only to
Cardassians, and she finally, finally breathed again.

---

Kira's eyes were closed, and she felt Garak's two kisses on her
eyelids as she rested, still amazed at the feel of the large male on
top of and inside her.

"Nerys."

She didn't want to answer, because then she might have to think. And
she knew she didn't want to think. Not just yet.

"Nerys."

"Yes."

"You have a date." She could hear the smile in his voice as she had
before.

"Wha--," Kira's eyes opened. "Oh. Dax." She sat up as Garak lifted
himself off of her and rose to stand at the side of the bed. He
quickly refastened his trousers.

"Computer, what time is it?" he sighed.

The dry female voice replied, "It is nineteen-hundred fifty hours."
Kira accepted Garak's hand as he pulled her up, trailing red ribbons
behind her. She blinked as he immediately bent down to refasten her
gown.

"Ten minutes left. Thank the gods for Andorian rose cloth, Major,"
Garak said cheerily. "It hardly wrinkles at all!"

Shaking her head, Kira asked, "What just happened here, Garak?"

"Oh, now Major," Garak winked, standing after finishing the job.
"You're no innocent. But you are an utterly remarkable woman, and you
can't fault me for succumbing to your abundant charms." He paused.
"Are you sorry for this?"

For a moment, Kira registered some concern in his face, which
comforted her. "No, although I'm still a little surprised. So..." she
hesitated. "Now what?"

"Now you go on to your holosuite adventure with Lieutenant Dax, with
just one promise to me..." the cheery smile disappeared briefly.
"Don't bathe." The smile returned. "It will give me no end of pleasure
to think about you attending that opulent Risan ball with memories of
me between your thighs." Kira smiled. "And perhaps, after you've had
some time to think about it..."

Garak appraised Kira one last time, and, with a fingertip, moved a
curl back into place over her left ear.

"... perhaps you'll come see me about a new wardrobe."

Five minutes later, after stopping only to reapply her lipstick, Kira
Nerys left her quarters with Garak. As they walked to the Promenade,
they both enjoyed the numerous stares she, and her dress, received.
After all, it was fitting worship for a goddess.

---

The End