he BLTS Archive - China Beach first in the China series by R.Schultz (cousindream@aol.com) --- Spoilers: Set after "Man of the People", before "Attached". Before my own stories "China Shop" and "China Rose". Disclaimer: Trekiverse belongs to Paramount and ViaBorgCom. We will be assimilated. I'm playing with Trek, no money is made, and I'll be put your folk back good as new. So chill. Story is mine by common- law copyright. Written April, 2001. 8200 words long. Warning: Sex between (fictional) adult consenting women occurs in this story, as well as a tad of hetsex. If straight sex or womyn to womyn love doesn't lock your transporters on, why don't you go elsewhere? We are proud to be a Treksmut place. Posted to DoctorFuh-Q fest, later to the ASCEM. May be archived, but please notify. --- My turn has come. Our turn. I know I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet again, but that is okay. We're standing in the Transporter room waiting for this group of four young males to reach their destination. Deanna Troi is ahead of me and she keeps giggling. We are badly in need of a little R&R. Deanna especially. She could have died.... I'm so glad to find her getting her bounce back. In harsh light she still looks a decade older. But the shadows are going from under her eyes. She's excited about this Shore Leave. We're going to have some FUN! We're enjoying this already. We have a bungalow reserved on China Beach, courtesy of the Plentiporaries of An-AnAm. The planetary government has reserved China Beach as an area not to be developed. There's not a structure on it. It's an unbelievable stretch of pure white beach. Forty-four kilometers of it. And we have one of the bungalows all for ourselves. WeatherNet says we can expect slightly warm and balmy weather for the next eleven days. Monsoon is over, and no storms for another five months. Perfect. First off we visit the capital, Quang Tri, pronounced Kant Te. They govern by a council of Mayors here, but it's all sort of sleepy and peaceful. Absolute first priority is to go shopping. I wonder who I'll meet tonight? What the hell, I'm a sailor when all is said and done. And what do sailors do in a liberty port? I'm going to have some FUN! --- It was a coffee bar more than an alcohol-based bar. With a limited menu consisting solely of wok stir-fry, rice and coffee. One hundred and eighty-six flavors and types. Something -- unhurried. But the ladies dumper! Sybarite decadence! I was washing my hands with a splurt of something that smelled of exotic fruits when Deanna scurried into view. She spun around for me twice. "Do you like?" Deanna was darkness in light, in her ensemble. She wore a pale blue silk shirt with large open sleeves, white silk cham-san skirt slit to her waist, and tight pale blue pants underneath. She was decorous, alluring, glittering and shiny in this light, and very edible. In comparison I felt like a Cossack. Red shirt shot with gold, and tight black-brown pants with flaring legs. What the hell. Cossack it is. Rape, pillage and plunder! "Real silk on the walls, isn't it?" she said. "I feel like I'm an employee of the fanciest bordello on the planet, when I'm in here," I returned. "All that passionate red. Aren't the flowers gorgeous? I adore the big yellow cream thing with the orange and red streaks in it." I went over to a bouquet of them, sticking my deprived nose into their resplendent center. Deanna grabbed my elbow and pulled me over to a padded couch that appeared to be made from a single piece of real ivory or bone. It might be, there were some ninety-meter giants in the main seas. Placid intelligent creatures, invincible excepting humanoid-kind. Alyssa Ogawa and a few others were on a jaunt studying them, over at Vinh Vy. Nothing was too good for the crew of the ship that was (partially) saving their asses. There was a little silver plate with eight dainty reddish cakes on a table by the bench. Diets be damned. "Its chocolate!" Deanna proclaimed. Virduigian chocolate it had to be, or at least the type. Strawberry and chocolate and some other fruit. We looked each other in the eye after we had each had two. Then we shared the rest. Its holiday. "Pudgy," I whispered with an evil grin. "Fat ass," she whispered back. Meaning we would pay for our sins. Eventually. It was fun being with a friend of many years. We virtually had our own language, together. Sometimes we could finish the other's sentences. I couldn't ever remember being that close to Jack. "So tell me about him," I demanded. She nodded her head back towards the tables and coffee and males. "I asked first," I pointed out. "He's a traffic warden, a troubleshooter for their CommuterNet system and others. Travels a great deal keeping the electro net functioning, works with the mecho's a great deal. He's widowed, two grown sons, and he can't keep his eyes off my breasts. These two of mine are at least a size or so more than the local pattern of female. I wish I'd worn a one-ply bra instead of this three. As it is he can hardly restrain his gentlemanly self from seizing them over the soup. He knows someplace to dance, and he's already kissed me twice on the hair. Now tell me about yours!" What to tell? Where to begin? "He's a medico, a serumotologist, specializes in finding uses for the local insectoid life. He also has a small practice for the people living in his immediate area. Two grown daughters and two living ex-wives. He has a greenhouse for hot rain-forest plants, and has four of the local herbivorous animals for pets. One daughter and her children live with him, but in their own attached building. "He's also a small collector of art prints. Has two Ni-Guermenco. He wants to show me his etchings. Can you believe that? "He loves my ass, but he already knows not to pinch." We smiled the smile of fellow conspirators. Oh, this was turning out to be such a FUN time! --- Its warm, and I'm sweating, but even our sweat feels sensual. The slick and slide of our bodies, the sheets clinging, the wet sounds we make as he smacks his groin against mine. I've unconsciously always wanted to be made love to like this. The heat makes me feel fevered. The sounds we make are so obscene. There is a large full moon shining in our balcony door. And the bougainvillea....! I asked. Its the real Terran flower. Blooming outside my doors, flooding the room with a hot heavy scent. Like in the DramaPadd's. I'm spread wide on a bed covered with burgundy satin, and the scent of Bougainvillea is strong in my nose. Uuuhhhhh ... I'm gonna come again, its the flowers fault ... He never stopped kissing me, every few strokes he'd lean down and find my hair or face or throat. He chewed on my nose a few times, but then no one is perfect. "Uuuunnnhooooh!" I grunted. He was a metronome in me, on me, I could feel the sparks from my clit every time his small stiff plot of dark pubic hair mingled with my thicker reddish crop. It was getting so much better now... No more beginnings, no more hesitations, no more awkwardness, no more accustoming ourselves to each other. My hair was carefully brushed away so his arms didn't pull it, my belly was getting warmer and tighter. Every time he slid in me my ring-muscles spasmed, trying to hold him in place inside me. Every time they failed and I felt him slide through their clenching. "Uuuhh, uuuuhh, uuuuhh," I could not stop myself and didn't want to. My pussy had a mind of its own and it carrying me along on this hot wave. When it washed over my clit it was going to go off like a bomb. It Did Even in the dark I knew he was smiling. I lay gasping, breathing in the sweet flowers, watching the almost liquid moonglow reflections play on the ceiling. I put my heels back behind his ass and hugged him to me. Nibbling on his ear, trying to squeeze down in a rhythm, make him have his come now. I could feel the spurts, the warmth deep inside, feel the flexing as he grunted like a beaten beast. I was smiling inside as I congratulated myself on giving him his release. And always I smelled the flowers. Maybe he wasn't the size of some, but by God he made me come so good. He also made his own enjoyment obvious! Such a smooth hairless ass he had. He was wiry strong, and didn't feel a need to rush. He's kissing me again. Oh, I love it when he licks the hollow of my throat. That's always been one of my favorite spots. And always that thick perfume of flowers.... Maybe he isn't going to get soft.... Just keep those kisses coming, and I'll squeeze down a few dozen times and see if that helps..... --- Deanna and I sat alongside each other on the NetCar. We shared it with a mixture of the exotic and the mundane. That in itself a reminder we were not where we were accustomed to being. We were on vacation! There were two obvious managerial types in their one-piece suits, carrying the inevitable PADD case. Two saffron and black robed young male Under-Priests were arguing happily with two elderly black-robed female Fathers. One talked and said her rosary at the same time. There were two mothers with their children, and a few bored farmers. They were all probably accustomed to sharing their transportation with tourists. They also spent some time weighing the two off-worlder's. It felt good being the object of a little innocent attention. I felt full of spice and confidence this morning. I might be the only female with red hair on this side of the continent, barring my fellow shore-leave personnel. Two little black-eyed boys were getting up enough nerve to approach Deanna and I. To touch her curls and my fire-hair, as Worf put it. I think Worf has a secret thing for Deanna. It feels good to watch sweet Deanna interacting with the children. She died on my table, and I was frozen into stone. I held her hand now, then leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. My dear, dear Deanna. What would I ever do without you? Suddenly the mothers were sitting in front of us. They had acted long before their boys got up enough nerve to ask anything. Now they hesitantly began communicating in their singing version of T-French. Both Deanna and I wore our Communicators, of course. Mine under the wide collar of my blouse, Deanna's in the hidden valley between her breasts. They translated for us, with some slips in grammar. We both spoke T-French, but this French was close to a new language with its emphasis on tone and pitch. It was a high warbling dialect, not unpleasant to the ears, if rather fast. I held one boy for many kilometers of our trip. Remembering in my soul how Wesley had felt in my arms. The one Deanna held had the Star Fire in him. Its what we called it, when we encountered it in youngling's of other planets. The Fire. They wanted stars. They were the ones who had that special catch in their voices when talk came of being between the stars. They wanted to be out there, with us. Meeting dangers (always surmounted), visiting far ports. Living with the stars. On a first-name basis with forever. How that one would relish a night in my cabin! Sitting, mouth open, watching the stars flash by outside the window. Long or short streaks of rainbows, the sight of eternity's. The StarBow of Warp speeds. Walking the decks of the ENTERPRISE, meeting Data, Geordi and Worf. Seeing stars in the giant viewscreen that dominated the bridge. Feeling every minute of every day or night the white sub-noise of the engines driving us through the Star Forests. Maybe one day my son might command his own ship, and have this one under his command. It was possible. The mothers and children got off at a small stop on the CommuterNet. The mothers bent to kiss us goodbye, as their boys did. Deanna flinched at first, but she accepted it. We felt very alone again until we shortly arrived at the tiny town centered on China Beach. It was a luxury, but we had the larger sized flitter. We could go all the way back to Quang Tri City in it, if we wished. All tied to the local Net, of course. We needed a flitter of some size, however, to protect the untouched nature of the Beach preserve. Our bungalow was over a kilometer from the beach itself. They tried to limit the intrusion of humanoid lifeforms on the beach. So we would flit back and forth to the Beach, instead of trudging the distance. And the nearest bungalow in either direction was over two-thirds of a kilometer away on either side. One of the Preserve Rangers made sure we knew how to operate this standard variety. Then he waved us on our way. Apart from our new clothes we didn't have much. And we would be alone. We arrived in darkness, the Net-supervised craft depositing us at our bungalow door. By an unspoken agreement we called the lights up, cut them in half, and were stripping out of our clothes as we entered. Tomorrow would be soon enough to talk. I helped Deanna into our bed, petted her, kissed her, rubbed the small of her back. Caressed one buttcheek. Deanna always did have a magnificent ass, nothing like my own. Deanna rolled over to hold me, and give me her own kiss. We went to sleep like that. Inhaling each other, feeling and knowing the other was near. Myself thinking I didn't want Deanna far from me now. I hoped she would begin talking of what happened when that misnamed Man Of The People had her ensnared. That was part of my agenda. To be a counselor for the Ship's Counselor. Deanna undoubtedly knew it, thanks to her reconstituted abilities. And accepted my unaccustomed role. Tomorrow. Tonight being together was enough. When she stole the sheets later on, I got a comforter and lay under that. It was almost cool in the morning, and she let me cuddle against her. I put one arm around her waist and she murmured a thanks. --- As usual I was up before her. I'd woken too warm, next to Deanna. She hadn't stolen the comforter, which was well. I'd have taken everything back when I got cold. Let her shiver for once. I hit the dumper, then made hot chocolate's for both of us. Awake now, Deanna hunched back against the wall, and I slid in beside her. We enjoyed our quiet moment. We could smell the ocean, but not see it. We could hear its sirrushing, hear birds quarreling, smell the Rainforest around us. When we finally visited China Beach, it would be in our flitter. It was programmed to travel down an approved trail. Not a path or road. We were warned that a mini-herd of the small ruminants might make an appearance. We should ignore them. When we wished to leave China Beach the flitter would take us back to our bungalow, or to the tiny town some kilometers back. There was nothing of sentient life on this beach. No manicured plaza's, no hawkers of drinks and food, no roads or piers or hotels or manufactured beauty. Just the beach. Forty-four kilometers of clean white sand. Sun and birds overhead. I heard an air-effect vehicle whoosh by somewhere far away. A coast road ran back of us. For now I was conscious of the length of naked Betazoid touching me, of the warmth of her regard. Peace, contentment. Waiting. It was like a HoloDrama, or maybe a light comedy. We finished our chocolate together. Leaned far over to place the cups on the floor. Rolled back to each other's arms and kisses. No words. Only the meeting of lips, the scurrying of hands. Someone sighed deeply after our lips met the first time. I think it was me. It had been so long since I had held Deanna, and so much had happened in the interval. She had died on my biobed. She had been afraid, so afraid to reach out after the Man Of The People. Now she was reaching. Deanna was also aware of the passage of time. She was invading my mouth, seeking a response, finding it. I loved the feel of her teeth holding my tongue, worrying it. Her touch on my breasts were electric. Sparks must have flashed when her hand discovered the hairs of my groin. Its not fair sometimes, dealing with a Betazoid. Sometimes, like now, it was heaven. I followed suit, caressing her, enjoying tremendously the feel of her flesh under my hand. The stiffening aureole's of her breasts, the softness of her abdomen. Deanna jerked and spasmed when my hand began twisting through her Venus mound. We would look into the other's eyes, then close them as it got better, as it got hotter, as our sex became tight and perched on a high ledge. Nothing mattered to me but her tongue. And her palm on my clit, my sex. The world was concentrated in my piece of buried hot stiff duranium. It was out of its hood now, as much as it ever did. Each movement of her fingers or rub of palm sent pain and anticipation up my nerves. I could feel and hear it slide and slick as she gathered my wet to lubricate the masturbation. Oh, she was my Deanna, she was my baby, she rubbed me so good. Continually she dipped into the sticky wetness of my groin. Smoothing her movements on my clit. I was sooooo close..... It was Deanna who came first. Her hips whipped back and forth on my hand as if she were a speeding mechanism. She wailed, open mouthed, crying, and cursing. Begging, saying she loved me, holding me tight, forcing my hand onto her clit with a hand both spastic and strong. Her eyes went white and she forced me on my back. She placed my hand between her groin and my thigh and rode me as hard and as fast as I had ever seen her do. She had forgotten me, I think, but she gave me the sight of her face. She gave me her thigh rubbing relentlessly in my own crotch. Her heat and frenzy brought me over in a flash. As she calmed and caught her breath, I began kissing her again, panting as hard as she was. I carefully fondled Deanna as she came down her mountain. She chuckled and allowed it. Ignoring the twinges and aftershocks so long as I was gentle. She lifted so I could taste her on my fingers. She was my Deanna and she tasted so sweet. The little slut reached down and found her own wetness. Then she licked some of it off her own fingers. We both did the same with my sticky come. Doctor Beverly, slut. More kisses, our breaths regular now, our groins moist. I bent to feed Deanna's tiny nipples into my mouth. Her aureole's were gristly, almost hard. I could feel each harden anew as I sucked them into my teeth-filled mouth. I did not taste any milk, but she had given me some as a reward for my suckling, before this. What a sublime pearl she was! To give her lover virgin's milk. I tried, I nibbled, my tongue pushed and caressed, but it did not come this time. There was still the rest of our vacation, however. Soon we were holding hands, tight with anticipation on the part of Deanna. We would be gentle, together. Rebuilding trust. Later we would take each other, give ourselves in different ways. Now was gentle. I worked my way down her body, lingering at her belly button. Enjoying the silken texture of her belly, the sound of her breathing, the quivers when I found her pubic hair with my mouth. Then my mouth and tongue was enjoying the heavy brine taste and musky fluids wetting her vagina. She held my hands, cutting holes in my skin with her nails. Time and again I would kiss and lick the insides of her thighs. Listening to the humming and sighs escaping her mouth. Then Deanna arched her back and hips from the bed. Partly through the grip I had with her hands, I stayed with her. Sucking her sex into my mouth, feeling the stiffness of her buried clit with the sharper edges of my teeth. She came for me, wetting my face as I rubbed it in her, on her. My tongue seeking the source of the Nile, my nose feeling the stiffness of her lust bead as it pulsed. Oh God, I savored the taste of my dearest friend, my lover. We paused, and I crawled up her body. She smiled as I sat upon her thigh. She beckoned me down to meet her lips, her smiling becoming light kisses. the mere touchings of tongues as we each traced the other's mouth. I began to rub myself on her strong thigh. Wetting it, sliding on it. Hearing slick slishings and smackings as I quickly built a tightness in my groin. The mechanism wound tighter and tighter, faster and faster. I altered the rhythm dozens of times. Bending to kiss Deanna, pinching my own stiff nipples, taking each in turn to my mouth. By straining I could take each of my nipples into my mouth, my teeth. I sucked myself, I bit hard, I laved with my tongue. I came. It was..... We lay tight together, knowing our groins were becoming sticky. Breathing in the strong scent of musk. Listening to the birds, smelling the ocean. "Naked?" Deanna asked. I agreed. We rolled out of our single bed to begin grabbing things. I had two carryall's and Deanna brought the fold-out air mattress and a sling of fluid bulbs. We threw a few foods onto the back of the flitter, our communicators on robes. Two one-piece bathing suits in case somebody came by. Then we were off. To see China Beach. On arriving Deanna jumped off the flitter as soon it stopped moving, giggles loud in the air. Naked beautiful ass flashing across the white sand as she ran for the mother womb of ocean. I was only paces behind her, my not so magnificent ass out there for all the birds to see. I am no empath, but I could feel years roll off Deanna as she ran from our flitter. Sand flying, not even a look to see if we had any neighbors. Just a blur of pink flesh, long black hair, and girlish squealing. A loud splash as she flopped into the water, then gurgles. Laughter. Screeching as another wave came in to roll her. Then I was with her, holding her, squealing as the cold water shocked me. Oh, it was such fun! Two naked women, rolling in the brine, not a care in the galaxy! We both swam a little, letting our muscles stretch. Deanna dunked me with a sudden surprise attack. I retaliated, and it ended with us kissing beneath the waves. Floating in the gentle currents, the sun visible through the water overhead. Feet lightly stirring the white sand. Cold and loved and holding our breaths until our heads began to hurt. When we surfaced, we felt the Leviathan before we knew what the sensation was. The wave of its passing lifted us, and then we both watched its back briefly break the surface. Deanna had one of her looks in place, she was reading something again, someone. "It knows us," she said over the sounds of a sea in motion. "It knows who we are. "Its a male, and he knows we are female, and it. Has. Swam with our type before. A mooning sound, as if from an immensely saddened T-cow. Long and low and vibrating. What a loving earthquake might say in your ears to warn you of its coming. Mostly sub-sonics, my scientific side noted. "It says hello," Deanna said in my ear. "Oh Beverly! It says hello!" It was a creature of the coastline. Living off the rich broth of life near the interface of solid and liquid. Its multiple mouths consisting of seines of flesh, breathing in the lives of tiny creatures and a few million unlucky tiny fish. We ducked back underwater and could vaguely see the bulk of him as he made his stately progress through the sea. I felt more profoundly moved by this creature of the salty oceans than I had for years. We had discovered many novel life forms, but this one touched me with awe. We surfaced and dipped again to watch. In this preserve, on this planet, it could feel safe. Here, in China Beach it lived the patterns bequeathed it by millions of years dead ancestors. It was magnificent, it was beautiful, it was awesome. Meter after meter of living blue-black gray-mottled seabeast. Deanna held me and I held her back as we watched it turn to sea. We were both quiet, awed, as we slowly treaded water together. We kissed and made our slow way back to the comfortable solidity of the beach. The heat of day and the sun. We stood in the nibbling surf. Each of us full of longing, holding each other, looking out to sea. We knew this had been one of the true giants. Eighty, ninety, a hundred meters in length. It was Deanna who sensed the return. She who pointed to the swell at sea. "Beverly!" she shouted. "Its coming back! It wants to meet us!" We hit the wave together, arms out, diving into the soft swell and into deeper water beyond. We broached together, touched fingers as we dived again. Again and again, until a moving wall was before us. We held ourselves under the surface, eyes wide, looking at the gentle Leviathan, the native intelligent life of An-AnAm. An eye blinked at me. Maybe the size of my head. It had at least two eyelids, one transparent. We felt the sea move as we watched its giant flappers slow it. It observed us. Two naked human females, strangers, creatures of the land. Deanna knew what it wanted and she swam the few meters to touch it. I followed suit. The skin was smooth yet pebbled, studded with other life living on its skin, slowing it. Great gray swaths showed where growth had been removed. Others of its kind rubbed off the growth. There were over seventy types of Leviathans, and they rubbed each other when they met in the cool of the sea. They cleaned each other. It was also a type of socialization. But when the Leviathans met, they rubbed against the other. Singing enjoyment at the cleansing of their skins. I gasped for air, Deanna beside me. We dived again, and Deanna went straight for a long strip of encrustation. Holding our breaths, we braced ourselves against the sentient beast to grab and pull wads of living fouling off its hide. A thin layer of dead skin went with the growth we pried off. We went back for air five or six times, working at the life living on it. When we realized we were getting tired, caution made us return to the beach. We made many backward looks, already missing our new friend. In a few minutes we were able to stand and gaze out to sea. Feeling a part of ourselves missing. Then, we felt the swell billow and try to take us to the beach. For a second we dared to hope, until twenty meters of marine head rose out of the sea. That head parted the seas perhaps ninety meters away. An eye, small in that expanse of dark flesh, blinked at us and we waved. Then it was gone. After minutes hoping for another sighting, we turned to the beach. We rubbed ourselves clean with one of the large bungalow towels. Sun protector on each other was carefully administered. Then we stood for minutes more, hoping for another glimpse. I opened and filled the air mattress, smiling at the garish gold and black of its pattern. We shared a bulb of some thickly rich fruit juice, leaning our heads against each other. It was then Deanna finally began to cry. She cried for what seemed hours, she let loose the pain, the frustration, the fear, the ANGER of what had been done to her by Vas Alcar. The Man of the People. This cynical and ruthless diplomat had taken her life away, over a period of days. She had aged a century, over two thirds of a Betazoid lifetime. She had been used as a cess pit for all his evils and lies and distortions. Everything he had done, Deanna had received. Aging at a fantastic pace as she did. In the end she had appeared older than her mother, Lwaxana. We had saved her. Barely. Vas Alcar had had his slimy soul fed back to him, and it had killed him. In my arms Deanna relived all of it. Finally. Her menses were still irregular. At nights she relived so many things. Disgusting things, filthy things, disturbing things. Many of them not of herself but Vas Alcar. Her nipples were sore for a month. She couldn't catch her breath. She remembered tearing the life from a child of the streets. A pitiful life, but enough to last him until he could steal the trust of his next adult. The sins, the orgies, the murders, the lies, the pleasures, the drugs, the victims, always the victims. Stretching back for a hundred years. But especially Deanna felt the ANGER! She dreamt at night, in that period between true dreams and waking. She dreamt of cruelties inflicted by her on Vas Alcar. Her dreams were of a pitiless revenge. Most of them mimicking the violations of mind and body she herself suffered. And the succession of men she had brought to her body while in the fever of possession. Night after night she wallowed in her meaningless pathetic revenge. She inflicted pains on him, delighted in his dreamland cries of agony. My sweet, gentle, patient Betazoid, my lover, she was consumed with HATE! HATE and ANGER! We lay together, on that stiff soft air mattress. A blanket covered us even in this sun. After all, we had become quite chilled during our time in the ocean. Deanna would stir, and I would lean back. Allowing her the time and the space to be hostile, violent, hateful, revengeful. Then she would crawl back into my arms, where I would coo to her and hold her close. She cried in her sleep at first. But by the time the sun was lowering into the west, her tears were finished. She let me place her back aboard the flitter. At first she stood looking out to sea, wishing for a glimpse of her new friend. Eventually she allowed an old friend to sit her in the vehicle, to tuck the blanket about her, to ignore the near-temperate Rainforest as the quiet vehicle took us back to shelter, to our bungalow. We showered the salt off together, holding on to each other, loving each other, allowing one of us to grieve. Deanna had lost something to Vas Alcar, something primeval, basic, and innocent. She might never regain it, and the lack was a great wound inside her. She allowed me to give her pineapple juice and a wine, mixed together in a soft sweetness. A soup out of the stasis box, warm, fatty, salty, just what she was able to handle. When she began crying again, I let her rant and shed her regrets and angers. Such rage! Not just for Vas Alcar and his sickening use of her. No, there was anger there for us all on the ENTERPRISE. Who shall counsel the counselor? For years she had been there for all the others on the ship. She had warned Jean-Luc, she had held Geordi's hand, she had advised and spanned parsecs in her mental searches. She had never stopped working. Always smiling. Always calm. Always helpful. Always able to ignore the slights of others, the greed of others, their selfish grasping's and borderline whining. Always there. For someone else. The perfect counselor. Now she had achieved death, and come back. She felt now every past slight or misinterpretation. Every time she had been used and discarded afterwards. She felt years of work barely appreciated. Years of straining her gifts for others. Years and years and years. Now she was tired, now she felt alone at nights. By herself in the midst of the village that was the ENTERPRISE. She was ANGRY! What she might have dismissed with a smile once, was now a gall of thorns under her skin. Vas Alcar had changed all that. He had left her nerves raw and open. Hurting and afire. Deanna could not stand any more. She needed relief. I'd heard a phrase once, and it came to my mind vividly as appropriate. She had been driven hard and put away wet. Something to do with horses. With darknesses writhing together in the corners, and night destroying the day, Deanna turned violent. There was so little that might break, but she threw things, tried to rip fixtures from the walls. Finally turned on me, beating me, scratching me. I held her close and accepted the tiny pains. Deanna was my friend and she was hurting far more than I was. It finally broke, this second stage of her pain. It broke when she pulled a long bright red Risan self-seating dildo from her carryall. It was large and long in my eyes, it made me wonder if she had intended it for me or herself. That it was bright red told me it was something intended for long years ahead. When had she gotten it? I stood stupefied as she vented her rage on it. She held it by the end, nails white with effort. She beat it against the edges in our bungalow. The counter, the stasis box handle, the brass frame of our plush bed. But beat it she did. Finally she called up the lights to three-quarters. Panting, shaking, naked, sweat dripping off her chin and nipples. Staring at what she held with both hands. Surprised immensely, by the look on her face. "Shit, Beverly! I've broken it!" It looked rather bent and misused to me as well. Awkwardly bent now in five or six places it had never bent at before. "Do you know how much this goddamned thing COST me? This was going to be my surprise for you, and now I've BROKE IT!!!" Deanna leaned back against a counter, letting the dildo fall to the floor. Flotsam of time. Then she began chuckling. That turned to laughter. She picked up the many-times bent dildo and waved it at me, full gales of almost hysterical laughter roaring from her throat. We held each other again, trembling with laughter as I joined her. We were both crazy, but it was a healthy crazy. Every time we'd falter in our laughter Deanna would lightly hit me on the arm with the now-wriggly dildo, and we would fall into another round of laughter. In the end she threw the dildo on the floor again. She kissed me, and bit me hard on my lower lip. I cussed her and she giggled and minced away. Daring me to chase her. Which I did, of course. I literally tackled her in the corner by the Stasis Box, bringing her down on top of me. We kissed. We smiled and kissed some more. We tickled each other, prompting more kisses and giggles. She let me raise her up, where we kissed again. I led her to our bed of love, lowering her onto the smooth cool surface. I fell to her side, my feet to her head. In a few minutes we were tentatively touching and licking each other's pubic hairs. In another we were finding each other's clit. More fervently we searched the source of wetness with our tongues. We made love for ... I don't know how long. Sometimes we'd flame in the scent and taste of wet female. Sometimes we'd masturbate. Or force our sticky groins together. We made love for hours. Until we had to twine together and go to sleep. In the morning it was as if a fever had broken, in Deanna. She rolled me off the bed and wallowed all over me. Until our fun turned to a search for her own pleasure on my thigh and tightly bunched fist. Afterwards she ran to the stasis box for something. She came back, and threw me back onto the bed. She'd gotten ice cubes from the stasis box. Put a few in her mouth and forced them inside my vagina with her mouth and tongue. That one surprised me. We took to wrestling after that. I won again, getting a half-nelson on her. I get some ice cubes from the stasis box, putting five in my mouth. All the time keeping her held. Ignoring her pleas for mercy, her promises of better behavior. I bent her over the bed, threatening dire punishments if she moved. I went behind her, spread her cheeks and put all five slightly lessened ice cubes in her ass. Revenge might not be sweet, but it was sure fun. And so was what else I did for her once she'd quieted down. Like I said, Deanna has a magnificent ass. One that demands loving kisses. It was like old times. It was such FUN! When I awoke, I was staring out into the moon and the night. I folded her into my arms, kissing her neck. Wondering how she was. "I'm -- not fine, but a lot better. Better than I was." She turned, wriggling closer to me. "Thank you. Beverly. Thank you for .... everything. For this. For knowing I was still wounded inside. For this miracle, for this joy, for this holding. "Will can be very nice, Beverly, don't ever think he can't be. But its you here, not him. Thank you." She smelled of salt and musk and funky sweat, she smelled gorgeous. "Do you think we'll ever see the Leviathan again?" Kissing her hair. "He was sort of overpowering, wasn't he? Maybe he will re-appear. In the meantime, let's have another bulb of wine. Let's poison our temples of bodies with some more nasty genuine alcohol. Then we'll go to bed again, where we'll make love again. Would you like that?" Deanna twinkled at me. "I've a bottle of rice wine," she said. "Very soft, smooth and only moderately expensive. I'd been saving it for our last night, but I think tonight would be appropriate. "If I get you drunk, can I have my wicked, wicked way with you? I must warn you: I intend to debauch you and lead you into depraved ways." Deanna growled and purred at me. She bit my earlobe, then stuck her tongue into my ear in a chilling way. I purred back. Females are allowed to purr. Its in the Federation Bill of Rights. We kissed, sealing the night. --- The sun was already high by the time we returned from the village. We drove the flitter right out to sea once we had our purchases. The flitter judged the distance to shore to be about two hundred meters, so we threw our sea raft there. I thought the rental price outrageous. I punched the hand controls, and it filled out beneath our hovering vehicle. Nine square meters of red-yellow-blue plaid air mattress. We let loose the two anchors, and they seated themselves in the clear blue sea. Deanna had shed her clothes by then and dived headlong into the blue. She climbed onto the stiff sides of the raft, motioning me down. She accepted the packages we had, and the flitter hand control box last. Then I shed my own dress and plunged into the clearest sea I had ever swum in. Buried in the water I paused to watch the hundreds of varieties of colorful fish living in the shore interface. Most of them unafraid of us. A pointed-nose yellow-white thing nibbled on me, then a dozen. One sent me whooping out of the water when it investigated my vagina. I darted down, letting my feet disturb the sand so it floated in a cloud up to my chest before dispersing. No sign of our Leviathan. You could clearly see the deeper channel now, the one he cruised in search of each day's food. Swarms of tiny fish schooled in billowing waves, ducking and retreating according to their own rhythms. A hideous large black bottom-feeder rose to greet Deanna. However one taste convinced it humans and Betazoids were not on the menu. Back on our raft we dried off, applied our spray's, then settled onto the soft plaid surface for a rest. We could easily see where I had parked the flitter. Everything was tethered to the raft, for the sake of safety. In emergency we could even beam back to the ENTERPRISE, via our communicator badges. Though the transporter tech might get a more interesting sight than he had bargained for. After our naps, we thought. Lulled to sleep by the breath of the ocean's bosom raising and lowering the sea. Letting the ocean wait for our return to it. I awoke first, and rummaged in my carryall. I put on a simple fabric belt, tight about my hips. Then I seated my black dildo in my crotch. Sighing and shivering as its kilo's of compolodial plas threads spread out and seated itself firmly in my groin. It grabbed hold of my belt and used that as well. I'd discovered that a belt for it to attach itself to, significantly increased the completeness of its seating on me. To all intents and purposes I was now a male. Wearing a cloth-of- gold belt with the buckle in back. Deanna woke and watched me put protectorant and lubricant on its gleaming black length. First I nursed on her lips, her breasts, her clit. Finally I lay over her, smiling and purring as she did the same. Her hand found my penis and directed it to her pliable vagina. With only the faintest of reluctance her sex opened up to my intrusion. Deanna immediately locked her heels over my butt, her hands busy on my shoulders and breasts. The deep swell warned us first, and Deanna turned super-nova in her face. She shone with joy. I'd never actually seen a woman's face turn radiant before, not to that extent. The eye came out of the water, forty or forty-five meters away. As it moved towards us Deanna came. Not an ordinary come, such as we had shared before. Her legs stood straight out from her body, her thighs vibrating with the strain. Her voice was a string of obscenities mixed with slobbering gasps for breath. I think she ejaculated on me. I stared at the nearing eyeball first, then down at a Deanna whose eyeballs showed only white for long minutes. I was mesmerized by both visions. "Beverly," she pleaded, "in, let's, in the, the water, please. No, no, keep it in me, keep us joined." Thus it was that each of us floated in the sea. Our hair made halo's about our heads. Our hands kept us joined at the hip, the dildo. We stared at each other in the light darkness of the ocean flow. Slowly we managed to fuck together. Many times more, staring at the giant bulk about us. This time we had rebreathers in our noses, and we slowly fed my dildo into Deanna, again and again. Maybe she came again, her face was unreal underneath the surface of the sea. We touched the quiet giant with our feet and hands, feeling the swells of its flukes as it kept himself in place. The sea was alive about us. The fish came back, the Leviathan stared, and Deanna heard its mind. We eventually had to break apart. My muscles could take no more. Deanna looked like she could continue to have sex in the cold briny for hours. We had to resurface. On the raft we stared at its eye again. Brave birds parked themselves on its placid greatness. I could hardly breath I was so deeply humbled before such beauty. "It asks if we are joined, and I told him yes." Deanna smiled and rubbed my belly. "He knows we are both female, and he wonders if that is unusual for us. I said not really. He said they have couples like us also. They have children with others, but they bond into large families then. To raise the children." I stared at it, wonder in my mind. "It wishes us many healthy children." With that it disappeared back into its element. We stared where it had been, hoping for another glimpse. Eventually Deanna began releasing me from the self-attaching dildo. She said the belt was a fine idea. Quickly she was wearing it as any arrogant male might. Flaunting its diameter and length. Deanna even wore the arrogant surety some males did. She told me to spread my legs. As she sprayed on the protectorant and lube, she said it was my turn. --- The Leviathan came back again that day. Deanna lay back, wearing the dildo, communicating with the Leviathan. I speared myself with the black masculinity, mouth open in awe. I speared myself until I came. I speared myself until the tugging and pulling in her groin edged Deanna over the precipice. Three times the next day the Leviathan returned. And each time we fucked, I fucked, I came, she came, we came. Again and again that day we came and we communed with the Leviathan. It did not hunt for food. It preferred to enjoy our touchings, our tiny cleaning of its skin. Our presence. And the Leviathan became our friend. And our voyeur. We came easy on the raft, and tried it again and again underwater. Having sex underwater wasn't very rewarding for me, but the very concept overloaded my sensory centers in my mind. It was so beautiful, who gave a damn if I actually came? At the end of that day I was very sore, knowing I'd welcome the use of my dermal regenerator and the muscle/visceral resplice. We were constantly in a state on the raft. Deanna ecstatic, myself taking my body to the limit. At times I didn't bother sliding myself off the black length of the dildo. We just lay together, satisfied, sore, complete, together. --- - Jean-Luc met us in the corridor outside the transporter room. Deanna bubbled a bit at him. Smiling like she used to, going so far as to give Jean-Luc a peck on the cheek. Deanna said she was fine, had fun, and so forth. I said "". The Captain was puzzled by that, looking to either of us for an explanation. Deanna stated I was a little fatigued from our vacation. "You understand how vacations can be, Captain. You over-indulge, you do far much more than you should, you tire the body. Doctor Crusher just needs a little time alone, to recover. Isn't that right, Beverly?" "." "Heh?" Picard asked. "I'm all right, Jean-Luc," I managed in a very squeaky voice. All that salt water I'd swallowed had finally had its effect. Deanna explained that one of the regenerators had decided to malfunction, and we were both a little sore. Too much exertion, you know how vacations can be. "" I agreed. Poor Jean-Luc was thoroughly bewildered, so he decided to put the best possible face on things. "Well then, rest, the pair of you. Your next shift will be tomorrow morning. "I trust you'll be better then, Doctor?" ", ." We staggered on our way, until the Captain made another observation. "The Doctor, you're both walking very oddly, aren't you? Are you sure you're both okay?" "She's just fine, Captain. Trust me. Just a little sore from all her activity. "We're heading to SickBay right now, Captain. Doctor Selar will know what to do to make us both feel much better. I'll go over Beverly again with her regenerators when we get her back in her cabin. Trust me," Deanna said. ", ". "You're sure you're okay -- I guess you are," the Captain guessed. The pair of you certainly have the biggest damned grins I've seen plastered on your faces for the longest while." Pause. "Carry on, Doctor, Counselor." "Trust me Captain. As soon as we get her to her cabin, we'll put the Doctor straight to bed. And I'll tuck you in, won't I, Beverly?" ", , ", I said, in some alarm. Deanna had an evil leer on her face. --- continued the second story in the China series 'China Shop'