From: dekaddemon@aol.com (Dekaddemon)
Subject: NEW: Cruzing 6a (mf,mmmf,mm,bd,ds,alien,anal,startrek)
Date: 11 Jul 1995 02:02:59 -0400

Warning!  Be advised that this story contains graphic, sometimes
non-consentual depictions of sexual interaction, both hetero and
homosexual.  The story also contains vivid, clinical descriptions of sex
with a non-human alien.  If you are under the age of 18, or if any of
these subjects is likely to disturb and/or anger you, please read no
further.  

You may reproduce, keep a copy or electronically transfer or circulate
this material to anyone, except for commercial or personal profit,
provided you do not change its original form and include this notice.
Dekaddemon shall not be liable for any wrongdoing, whether knowingly or
inadvertently, that may arise from individuals breaking local applicable
laws by transferring, printing or storing this material in any form
whatsoever, electronically or otherwise. All copyrights remain the
property of the author. 

Star Trek and all characters from the series and movies are trademarks of
and copyright Paramount Pictures Corporation.


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part a)

Lieutenant Darryl Hicks and Lt. Commander Geordi Laforge sat amidst the
warm, soapy water of the sunken, expansive bathtub, facing each other,
their legs sensually intertwined.  A air of the small chamber was
similarly moist, and the two men sweated freely.  Two small trays stood
next to the tub by either man's reclined head; Hicks' tray bore a
venerable hypotherm canister of Terran beer, while the other supported
Geordi's preferred poison, a Saurian Backbender.  Just barely, sensually
noticeable to both men, riding just behind the veneer of soap and steam,
was the lingering, bleachy musk of both men's semen, still wafting from
the open door to Geordi's bedroom. Both men were now relaxing after a
long, intimate fuck.

"I still think she's got a simple case of the hots for you," Geordi mused,
his eyes closed.  His visor lay next to his drink on the tray.  "It's not
like she'd be the only one on the ship. . ."

Hicks smiled slowly, watching his best friend and sexual partner relaxing
in the tub across from him.  For the past year, he and Geordi had been
more than friends.  The two had spent a fair amount of time together
during a refit of the emergency damage control monitors in Main
Engineering, not long after Geordi's promotion to Chief Engineer.  It was
during that time that the men discovered, and nurtured, a quiet but
intimate sexual attraction for each other.  Geordi was bisexual, it had
turned out, and Hicks had been homosexual for as long as he could
remember.  Each discovered in the other a friendly, easygoing charm that
both found stimulating and comforting.

"Please, don't remind me," Hicks responded in his typically breathy, sexy
voice.  "You wouldn't believe what Bev and Dee wanted to do with me last
night."

"You're right, I can't.  Enlighten me."

Hicks actually blushed.  "Let's just say it involved me, her, and the
biggest dog I've ever seen in my life; I think she was taking care of it
for one of the civilian families.  What *is* it with the women on this
ship?" he groused good-naturedly.

Now it was Geordi's turn to smile.  "You're a heartbreaker, Dare, that's
what it is."  He ran his soapy foot gently up Hicks' broad, rippled chest,
toying with the security officer's left nipple with his toe.  "A tragic
waste of perfectly good man-flesh; maybe Deanna's trying to reform you." 
They both laughed softly, and Hicks both his hand up out of the water to
slowly caress Geordi's foot.  Geordi was one of the few people who ever
referred to Hicks by his first name, to say nothing of a contraction of
it.  Hicks was a native of a colony world, New Malibu, on which the custom
was to refer to last names; first names were reserved for family and close
friends.  

"I doubt it," Hicks responded easily.  "I think she's just horny.  Its
been good to see Bev come out of her shell, though. . ."  Deanna he'd been
fucking for six months, but the Betazoid had only tentatively introduced
Dr. Crusher to him sexually three months ago.  Although emotionally firmly
homosexual, Hicks was, physically speaking, sexually omnivorous, and found
orgasms easily with women.  His relationship with Counselor Troi was based
on friendship.  There was a word for it on his homeworld:  "fuckbuddies". 
Deanna was one of the most direct, open-minded women he knew.  He'd gotten
to know Deanna through Tasha Yar, with whom the Betazoid had been friends
(he also suspected they'd been sexually intimate as well).  Deanna had
essentially told him that she found him very attractive, and although she
knew he was homosexual, she needed a little therapy herself on occasion,
and would he mind very much if she fucked his brains out?  A perceptive
woman, Ms. Troi was, able as she was to deduce (correctly) that being gay
did not necessarily rule out having sex with her.  And so, Hicks helped
Deanna indulge her desire to be sexually dominant, and, lately, her desire
to help Beverly finally put the death of her husband behind her.  

"I *still* think you're lying about Dr. Crusher," Geordi laughed.  "I just
can *not* see her in a threesome with you and Deanna.  I can't even see
her having sex, period."

"You'd be surprised," Hicks offered softly.  "She's incredibly passionate,
in a careful, deliberate sort of way."  The blond paused to lick the soap
delicately from between Geordi's toes, which drew a satisfying sigh of
contentment from his friend.  "And I've *told* you I don't know how many
times that I'm just playing counselor for Deanna; she needs occasional
release too, just like the rest of us."  It was an intimate, familiar joke
between the two friends, how Hicks was secretly in love with the beautiful
Betazoid, how his homosexuality was all a ruse, etc.  Geordi laughed.  He
now had both feet on Hicks' chest, rubbing slowly, sensually, over his
sculpted pectoral and abs, with Hicks resting his arms at his sides,
allowing Geordi as much access as he wanted.  "But back to the question at
hand, lover.  What do I do about Major Vasquez?"

This was the question that had occupied the two men for the last several
hours, even as they had gently but thoroughly explored the warm depths of
each other's bodies.  Why was Vasquez trying to drive him insane with
sexual teasing, and, more importantly, why was it working?  Hicks did
*not* think that it was a simple case of sexual attraction.  It was more
like a power trip, the likes of which he'd never seen.  The Cruzer had
been at it now for over two months, letting him see her partially naked,
working out especially intensely in front of him, letting him see her with
Ro.  And she had a way of touching him often in the course of their
training of the squad.  A hand on the ass or the back of the thigh.  A
gentle slap on the cheek.  Often, when Vasquez gave him an order, she
would "affirm" it with a light pound with the side of her fist against his
chest.  And lately, the teasing had been getting more intense.  After
working out together, she'd lately begun asking him to massage her back. 
Although, it had been a request, it had definitely been in the context of
their relationship as superior officer and subordinate.  She had a way of
asking very directly, very explicitly, and *firmly* in her role as his
commanding officer, for exactly what she wanted: to massage this muscle or
that, to lighten or increase the pressure of his fingers. And she made the
most amazingly intense sounds while he worked her muscles, so soft that
they could be missed if not listened for, but there nonetheless.  Tiny
moans, small *grunts*, little sighs.

He had had to frankly admit to himself that she turned him on.  Although
he had never had any specific desire to participate of cross-species
sexual interaction, he now found himself thinking about his superior in
that way.  What was she like in bed?  Did she really have a cock?  Which
did she like better, getting fucked or doing the fucking?  It was also
easy to think of her as not specifically female.  She was very masculine,
in body hair, musculature, and demeanor.  When dealing with him, Vasquez
had a direct, intense, but deeply friendly intimacy that reminded Hicks
strongly of homosexual attraction, the easy, relaxed acknowledgement of
strong sexual tension, and the implicit promise of later, mutual satiation
of that tension. It was bizarre, and compellingly sexual.

"It seems clear to me," Hicks reasoned, "that Vasquez really wants me to
fuck her."  He paused, lost momentarily in thought.  "But," he began
again, "she also been doing everything but scream in my face that she's in
charge. . ."

"Maybe she's got a rape fantasy, too," Geordi surmised, in all honesty. 
"You know, wind you up in the hopes you'll go over the edge and force
her."

Hicks thought that over.  "No," he responded at last, "I don't think so;
at least, not with me.  She's so totally, I don't know. . . *military*,
maybe she's worried about what things would be like after we fucked, if
the chain of command would get screwed up."

"Then why doesn't she just talk to you about it?"

Hicks smiled after a moment.  "Maybe its not the *Cruzer Way*," he intoned
with mock-menace, causing both of them to laugh.  "Seriously, though," he
continued, "Cruzers have this big thing about command structure, so I
hear.  I get the definite feeling that something's going to happen, like
she's setting me up somehow."  The blond security officer smiled
languidly.  "Maybe its all an elaborate test, to see if I can prove my
worth.  He paused, as if listening to his own words replay in his head. 
"Christ, that sounds positively primitive!" They both laughed again, the
easily laughter of two friends who trusted one another implicitly.

"Why don't you ask Deanna about it?" Geordi asked seriously.  He had
allowed one of his feet slide beneath the soapy water to slip between
Hick's legs, and had been surprised to find his friend *rock* hard.  It
was clear that something was going on in his friend's head.

Hicks gave a secret little laugh.

"What?" Geordi asked, now intrigued.  "What?!!"

Hicks' green eyes slid up to the blind orbs of his friend, now open and
showing white.  Geordi could almost sense the man's gaze.  "I think
Deanna's fucking her."

Geordi's jaw dropped.  "You're *kidding*!" he exclaimed.  "I'll *never*
doubt you about our Counselor's sexual appetites again.  How do you know?"

Hicks allowed his eyes to close as he reflected upon the events of last
night.  He'd been in Security.  Vasquez had told him he'd be in charge all
night.  He'd assumed she'd been planning to spend some time with Ro.  At
about 02:00 he'd gotten a call from Deanna, who had quite innocently told
him that she'd been going over crew psych profiles all evening, and really
needed a good backrub.  He'd told her that he was in charge in Security
and couldn't leave, but Deanna had seemed oddly unsurprised.  She had
simply said that if he should happen to get free, to drop by.  Then, only
a few minutes later, Vasquez herself had come walking in.  She'd taken
over for him, and conveniently given him the rest of the evening off. 
And, she'd had the oddest little smile on her face.  With a strange sense
of being manipulated, he'd gone to Deanna's quarters, and had been very
surprised to find Deanna *completely* restrained on her bed, her hands and
feet spread and bound at the bed's corners with security binders, with a
blindfold tied around her head and a synthi-rubber ball-gag firmly tucked
into her mouth.  Moreover, the Betazoid had been naked, sweaty, and
*covered* in some kind of fluid the likes of which Hicks had never seen
before, but which bore an oddly familiar scent.  Sort of cinnamony and
animal at the same time.  It had taken him a moment to place the scent: 
Vasquez, after she'd been working out really hard.  It had looked like
semen to Hicks', although there whad been just an *amazing* amount of it;
there hadn't been a single bit of Deanna that hadn't been liberally
smeared with the strange, thin, slippery liquid.  Deanna had been
literally beside herself with sexual arousal, obviously unprepared for
having been on the other end of the sexual dominance game, and clearly
devastated by it.  And there'd been a message, on the data terminal beside
her bed (even the terminal had been sprayed with the weird fluid):  

SHE HAS A RAPE FANTASY:  INDULGE IT.  

After a long moment of contemplation of the helpless Betazoid on her bed
(and careful determination that the Betazoid had acurally been powerfully
aroused), he'd done just that, raping her very thoroughly and rather
forcefully, orally, vaginally, and anally.  Afterwords, when he'd removed
the gag, all she'd said was "thank you" in a small, intense voice that
left *no* doubt as to the sincerity of that thanks.

Geordi listened with great interest to Hick's story, slowly stroking the
man's penis with his foot.  Its swollen glans was now poking above the
water's surface, resting lightly against his belly.  "Wow," was all Geordi
could think to say.  Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Without a doubt,
you lead the most interesting life of anyone I know.  And for a *gay*
guy," he finished impishly, "you get more pussy than most *straight* guys
I know."

Hicks' laughed, enjoying Geordi's typically humorous insights.  He also
noticed that he was horny as hell, and started to eye Geordi's soapy,
finely chiseled, ebony body with growing hunger.  Geordi's foot stroked
him rhythmically.  "At any rate," Hicks said, "Deanna didn't mention that
night again, and she hadn't said anything at all about Vasquez before
that, so I assume that it's something she'd prefer not to get into with
me.  Thus," Hicks finished, having adopted a mock-scholarly tone, "I can't
ask her for advice about what to do with my boss; classic conflict of
interest."

Geordi laughed good-naturedly.  "Well, thank *you* professor, for that
scintillating description of shipboard sexual dynamics. And when may I
read the published version?"

Geordi's laughter was abruptly cut off as Hicks, with cat-like reflexes,
abruptly grabbed both of Geordi's wandering feet and yanked hard, pulling
the Chief Engineer suddenly under the soapy water.  He came up gurgling
and sputtering, only to find lips covering his own, kissing him with
urgent, but restrained passion.  Without his visor, every nuance of the
kiss was magnified, the gentle, insistence caress of his lips, the
tentative, the exploratory probe of Hicks' tongue, the easy masculine
power of Hicks' hand as it slipped behind Geordi's head, pulling him
deeper into the kiss, which rapidly became *quite* hot.

Hicks broke the kiss gently, with a few parting licks at Geordi's lips. 
"Top or bottom?" he asked simply.

"Bottom, lover," Geordi responded softly, with no hesitation.  Hicks
picked him up with a soft, very sexy grunt of effort, and carried Geordi
bodily, dripping and soapy, into the bedroom.

*****

Much later that evening, Darryl Hicks returned to his quarters, to find a
message waiting for him on his data terminal;  it was a text-only message
with no source identification:  

THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR YOU INSIDE PANEL 631267, IN CRAWLWAY 8/J7F, DECK
12/13 JEFFRIES INTERCONNECT.  CHECK IT OUT.

"What the hell?" Hicks whispered to himself.  Out of curiosity, he
accessed the Enterprise's deck plan file, and located the section of
crawlway referred to in the message.  It was an extremely out-of-the-way
section of the ship, between the main reclamators on Deck 12 and the
astrophysics research lab on Deck 13.  He recalled the message and reread
it several times.

"O.K., I'll play. . ."

*****

The magbolts came out easily, falling neatly into Hicks' hand.  He put
away the phase inverter in its case, and carefully detached the faceplate
of panel 631267 and put it aside.  Tucked between two plasma conduits, he
saw it immediately.  A small metal box.  Hicks picked it up carefully,
noting that something inside it rattled.  Without further preliminaries,
he opened the box.  Inside was an isolinear datachip and an odd, bladed
tool, whose use he could not immediately identify.  Setting it aside for
the moment, he took out his security tricorder, and plugged the chip into
it.  He read, stunned.

LIEUTENANT HICKS:

MORE THAN I'VE WANTED ANYTHING IN A LONG TIME, I WANT TO FUCK YOU.  I NEED
TO SHOW YOU MY APPRECIATION FOR YOUR EXPERTISE, YOUR ACCEPTANCE, YOUR
FRIENDSHIP, EVEN YOUR MASCULINITY.  EVERY DAY I SEE YOU, THE MORE I WANT
TO PUT MY HANDS ON YOU, MY MOUTH, MY CUNT.  OUR GENEITCS DOOMS US TO THIS,
SOME SAY; I THINK OF IT AS A GIFT, THIS NEED TO SHARE MYSELF WITH YOU, TO
GIVE YOU AS MUCH PLEASURE AS YOU CAN STAND, AND MORE STILL.  I AM A
CRUZER; I WAS BRED TO SERVE. . .  

I HAVE A PROBLEM , HOWEVER.  YOU ARE SUCH AN INCREDIBLE SOLDIER, AND MAN,
THAT I FEEL COMPELLED TO YIELD MORE OF MYSELF TO YOU THAN WOULD BE PRUDENT
FOR EITHER OF US.  YOU MAKE ME WANT TO *SUBMIT* YOU, SEXUALLY AND
EMOTIONALLY, GIVE *CONTROL* TO YOU, AS I HAVE SELDOM FELT COMPELLED TO
BEFORE.  IT DOES NOT HELP THAT YOU ARE HOMOSEXUAL; CRUZERS ARE *VERY*
AROUSED BY MEN WHO ARE COMFORTABLE ENOUGH, SURE ENOUGH OF THEMSELVES AND
THEIR OWN SEXUALITY, TO HAVE SEX WITH EACH OTHER; ANOTHER GIFT FROM OUR
DESIGNER, I THINK.  IN FACT, I HAVE BEGUN TO FEEL THE INCIPIENT URGE TO
BOND WITH YOU; BONDING WITH SUBORDINATE OFFICERS HAS BEEN KNOW TO OCCUR IN
SOME CRUZERS, AND BELIEVE ME, IT MAKES THINGS VERY COMPLICATED.  

THE FACT REMAINS THAT TO ME, YOU HAVE MORE THAN EARNED CLAIM TO MY BODY,
AND I WANT YOU TO HAVE ME.  MORE THAN THAT, I *NEED* TO GIVE MYSELF TO
YOU.  SO, HERE'S WHAT I PROPOSE.  I HAVE DESIGNED A VERY SPECIAL SET OF
ORDERS FOR YOU, ORDERS YOU CAN PERFORM FOR ME JUST BEFORE WE FUCK, THAT
WILL SHOW ME, AND KEEP IN MY MIND, THAT YOU ARE MY SUBORDINATE, AND THAT I
AM YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER.  YOUR ORDERS ARE AS FOLLOWS:

1.  IN THE BOX WITH THIS DATACHIP, YOU SHOULD ALSO HAVE FOUND AN ANCIENT
TERRAN STRAIGHTRAZOR.  I'VE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF SHARPENING IT MYSELF,
IMPORTANT TO MY SENSE OF CONTROL.  YOU'LL FIND THAT IT'S SHARP ENOUGH TO
CUT METAL.  WITH IT, I WANT YOU TO SHAVE OFF EVERY BIT OF MY PUBIC HAIR
BEFORE YOU FUCK ME.  SEEING YOU MAINTAIN YOUR CONTROL WHILE YOU PERFORM
THIS MOST INTIMATE SERVICE WILL HELP ME KEEP SOME DOMINANCE, AND HELP ME
VISUALIZE YOU IN A SURSERVIENT ROLE.  FURTHERMORE, YOU MAY ONLY USE MY
SEMEN OR YOURS TO LUBRICATE THE HAIR BEFORE YOU SHAVE IT.  I DON'T CARE
HOW YOU GET IT, SO LONG AS YOU DON'T FUCK ME BEFORE YOU FINISH SHAVING ME.
 THIS WILL AGAIN HELP ME TO SEE YOU SERVING MY NEEDS BEFORE I ATTEMPT TO
SERVE YOURS.    

2.  I PLAN TO RESIST YOUR EFFORTS TO COMPLETE THE ABOVE ORDER.  THIS IS A
SELFISH INDULGENCE ON MY PART, A CONSTRUCTION TO HELP ME REMEMBER THAT I'M
NOT "GIVING" YOU ANY OF MY CONTROL, BUT RATHER ORDERING YOU TO TAKE IT
FROM ME; THUS I NEVER ACTUALLY SURRENDER IT.  I KNOW THIS SOUND NEEDLESSLY
COMPLICATED, BUT BELIEVE ME, YOU ARE TRIPPING WIRES IN ME I NORMALLY
RESERVE FOR COMMANDING OFFICERS.  THIS ORDER IS VERY IMPORTANT.  IN A
WEEK, THE ENTERPRISE WILL MAKE ORBIT AROUND STARBASE 63.  THE STARTOWN
ASSOCIATED WITH THAT FACILITY IS PRETTY ROUGH.  I PLAN TO TAKE MY SHORE
LEAVE THERE.  I WANT YOU TO FOLLOW ME, AND AT SOME POINT, OVERPOWER ME AND
CARRY OUT ORDER #1.  I WILL FIGHT YOU IF YOU GIVE ME THE CHANCE; I MAY
EVEN ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU; MY EMOTIONAL INVOLVEMENT IN THIS SITUATION HAS
BEEN VERY DIFFICULT TO SORT OUT.  BE CAREFUL!  I CAN TAKE ANYONE ON THE
SHIP IN A STRAIGHT FIGHT, AND YOU'RE NO EXCEPTION.  YOU'LL BE AT YOUR BEST
IN CLOSE QUARTER FIGHTING, WHERE YOU CAN USE YOUR STRENGTH AND MASS
AGAINST ME.  YOUR RECON AND INFILTRATION SKILLS ARE ALSO THE BEST I'VE
EVER SEEN; USE THEM.  FINAL NOTE:  I'LL BE PACKING MY AUTOPISTOL; YOU
MIGHT WANT TO WEAR A BALLISTIC VEST.

I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO TALK TO ME ABOUT THESE ORDERS.  I MERELY EXPECT THEM
TO BE CARRIED OUT.  FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION.  LUCKILY, I WOULD NOT HAVE
GIVEN THEM TO YOU UNLESS I WAS FULLY CONFIDENT OF YOUR ABILITY TO CARRY
THEM OUT.  THIS IS THE MOST DIFFICULT SET OF ORDERS I WILL *EVER* ASK YOU
TO PERFORM.  I ASK BECAUSE I WANT TO GIVE MYSELF TO YOU, AND YET, I WANT
TO CONTINUE TO BE THE KIND OF COMMANDING OFFICER TO YOU THAT I KNOW YOU
WOULD WANT.  

TRUST ME:  IF YOU ARE SUCCESSFUL IN CARRYING OUT THESE ORDERS, WE WILL
BOTH HAVE A *FANTASTIC* TIME.  GOOD HUNTING.

P.S.  FREE ADVICE:  I'LL BE PLAYING A ROLE ON SHORE LEAVE, A SEXUAL
FANTASY I'VE BE TOYING WITH FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS.  I'LL PROBABLY BE
PRETTY DEEP INTO THE PART; THAT MIGHT HELP YOU IF YOU GET INTO TROUBLE. 
ALSO, ONCE YOU GET DOWN TO SHAVING ME, I *LOVE* TO HAVE MY BELLY RUBBED,
ESPECIALLY WITH SOME LUBRICANT.

P.P.S.  IF, IN THE COURSE OF ORDER #1, SHOULD YOU SEE MY EYES TURN FROM
BLACK TO A SORT OF MILK GRAY, THIS IS A SIGN OF INCIPIENT BONDING.  RETURN
TO THE SHIP IMMEDIATELY IF THIS HAPPENS; CONSIDER THAT A DIRECT ORDER.

(SIGNED) MAJOR JUANITA VASQUEZ, CHIEF OF SECURITY, USS ENTERPRISE.


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part b)

Darryl Hicks sat there, in the jeffries tube, for a long while, rereading
the message until he had it memorized, and then reading it again.  He
didn't know whether to consider himself fortunate or rail at his fate. 
Strangely, he knew the entire question was unrelated to his sexual
orientation; her request, her order, went far beyond questions of mere
sexual preference.  This was squad business.  He suspected that if he were
to undertake this set of orders and succeed, he would be part of a
security team that would become legendary in its expertise.  Hicks found
himself liking that possibility.  

Still, the consequences of failure were. . .  nightmarish.  --God, she's
laid *everything* on the line--  Hicks caught himself thinking, with more
than a little admiration for his commanding officer.  He closed his eyes,
centering himself and closing out everything else, a Klingonese trick Worf
had taught him.  
What was his motivation?

The deepest respect he'd ever felt for a commanding officer.  Sympathy for
her difficulty in sorting out her relationship with him to her liking. 
Gratitude for  the way she'd totally opened her soul to him.  Sexual
attraction of a kind he'd never felt before.

What was the basis for his hesitation?

Fear.  She was a deadly killer.  He needed an ace in the hole.

Abruptly, Hicks decided to do something that he *knew* the Major would
kill him for if she were to find out.  However, the moment he'd thought of
it, Hicks knew it was the right thing to do.

*****

Ten minutes later, Hicks was standing outside the door of Captain Jean-Luc
Picard's quarters, pressing the chime.  

"Come," the firm, controlled-steel voice commanded him from the speaker.  

Hicks found Picard lounging at the large, comfortable desk that dominated
the 
right side of his main living area, facing the broad bank of windows that
looked out over the bow of the main saucer section, directly above
Ten-Forward.  A cup of half-drunk tea sat in a large mug by his left hand,
and he looked up from his data display as Hicks entered.  He was dressed
in a casual, comfortable ruffled shirt and dark slacks, and on his feet
were a well-used pair of mariner's deck shoes of an ancient design.  He
looked . . . relaxed.

"Good evening, Lieutenant," Picard began, by way of greeting.  "Come in." 
He smiled warmly, his blue eyes missing nothing.  "Can I offer you some
tea?"

"Actually, something stronger, if you've got it, sir," Hicks requested
evenly.

Picard looked at Hicks measuringly for a moment, before motioning him to
have a seat on the couch beneath the windows.  "Scotch all right?" he
asked, reaching into an old, weathered sea chest against the wall next to
his desk, under a portrait of the Enterprise.  

"Yeah," Hicks replied.  He accepted the drink gratefully, noting that the
Captain had poured him a double, neat.  He also noted that the Captain had
poured one for himself.  
"To open doors,"  Picard offered, raising his glass.  Hicks touch his rim
to the Captain's, before taking a healthy slug.  Picard sipped. An awkward
silence descended in the room.

"You look like the proverbial man with something on his mind," Picard
prompted gently.  "Anything I can help with?"

Hicks looked at Picard, stared him hard in the eye, for a long moment. 
Picard accepted this, waiting patiently for Hicks to decide whether he
could trust him. "It all depends," the blond security officer said
finally, "on how far off the record you're willing to talk."

Picard, as it turned out, was willing to talk *way* off the record.  The
two men talked long into the night, each sharing their perceptions about
Major Vasquez, honestly and frankly.  In the end, Picard hadn't really had
much advice for Hicks, other than the benefit of long years dealing with
alien cultures and races, and a tall tale or two relating some of the more
interesting encounters he'd had with such cultures.  But that alone seemed
to give Hicks whatever it was that he needed to confront this most unusual
of situations.  Hicks thanked him for his input, and strode out like a man
on a mission.

After Hicks had left, Picard spent a long while staring at the onrush of
stars, thinking that the young lieutenant was in for an interesting shore
leave.  He also decided that it was time to begin taking some steps of his
own to solidify his own relationship with his new Security Chief.

With deliberate intent, he contacted Counselor Troi.
  
*****

In his beaten, brown leather jacket, a plain white t-shirt and his
well-worn sythidenim pants, Second Security Officer Darryl Hicks looked
every inch the sleazy, slightly-creepy guy that he'd intended to portray. 
The look went well with the dilapidated hotel room he now found himself
sitting in.

Hicks mentally replayed the steps he'd taken to get to this point,
studying through the dirty, half-open window the similarly dilapidated
hotel across the narrow, dank smelling alley from his current location. 
Vasquez had taken her normal shore leave rotation, beaming down to the
main Starbase transporter facility, carrying one small olive-green Marine
Corps duffel bag.  She'd been wearing her usual stretch-vest and camos, no
phaser, but with her autopistol hanging at her thigh.  He'd rigged a
security tricorder to track her combadge, and had beamed down a minute
after she had.

After calibrating his tricorder, Hicks had deduced that his boss had
stepped into a nearby lavatory.  He almost hadn't recognized her when she
emerged.  Her fresh camos had been exchanged for a substantially more
worn, faded pair.  Her vest had also disappeared, replaced by a simple,
sweat-damp Marine Corps tank top.  Vas' Marine Corps dog tags had appeared
outside of the tank top.  All her rank and insignia pins had disappeared. 
She had obviously mussed her hair up a bit, having wetted it down, and
then roughly slicked it back.  And the look on her face; that had amazed
Hicks most of all.  His supremely cool, totally together commanding
officer had adopted the grim, determined, *fierce* look of a young,
combat-wired Marine grunt.  She had looked ten years younger:  brash,
cocky, but a bit frayed around the edges, as if the madness of her chosen
profession was barely peeking through the veneer of calm.  She had looked
like a buck private with ten credits in her pocket, a weekend pass, and a
taste for danger.  Hicks had shivered slightly; she'd looked creepier that
he had.

He'd followed her to the far end of the commercial starport, to the
Starfleet Marine Base.  There, he'd watched her go into a *very*
rough-looking Marine bar just outside the base gates.  She'd come out an
hour later with three young Marine males in tow, two humans and a
scummy-looking, dog-headed Vargr.  They'd laughed the rough, intimate
laugh of compatriots sharing a similarly violent way of life.  Had he not
known differently, Hicks would have thought that the foursome had been
serving together for years.  

The group had made their to a nearby area of town, a seedy commercial
district literally just over the fence from the Marine base.  Hicks
remembered smiling grimly; the place had been *thick* with whores and
prostitutes of every description, serving the Marines flowing through the
base.  The males with Vas had begun to put their hands on her, caressing
her butt, giving it playful slaps.  These she returned with interest to
her companions' chests and faces.  It had been rather like watching Malibu
clawcat cubs roughhousing, except with a clear, darkly sexual overtone. 
Wild kids with big guns.

Vas had finally led her newfound buddies to a sleazy, run-down three-story
flophouse, which on its erratic arc-sign proudly advertised "cheap, hourly
rates."  Before they had gone in, he'd distinctly heard Vas tell her
buddies, "I hope you boys been eatin' your cornbread," giving the tallest,
an ugly mean-looking son-of-a-bitch, a firm slap on his hard, muscular
ass.  The look she'd given the soldier had veritably screamed, "I am going
to fuck you *raw*."

Although he hadn't followed her in immediately, a bit of fine-tuning on
his tricorder had allowed Hicks to pinpoint Vas' final location on the
second floor, to the left-hand side of the building.  There had been
another cheesy hotel bordering the building on that side, separated only
by a narrow alley.  Perfect.  The only problem had been that if Hicks had
tried to check in alone, the proprietor would probably have called the
shore patrol; *nobody* used these places for *anything* except getting
laid.  So Hicks had surprised himself by assessing the talent working the
street at that time, looking for a likely candidate.  He'd briefly
considered a male hooker, of which there were perhaps twenty within range
of his voice.  But ultimately, he'd decided on a female, to help him into
the mood of what he was about to attempt.  

So that selection had brought Hicks into the next-door flophouse, and
subsequently up to this rather squalid third-floor room.  He taken the
floor above that which Vas was on in the neighboring building, so that his
angle of view would be better.  The ultra-scuzzy man behind the rental
counter had groused, but he'd told him that heights turned him on, pausing
to feel up his hired companion.  They came cheap in this part of town;
he'd parted with exactly twenty credits (with ten more to follow) for full
rights to the girl's mouth and cunt, and had options on anal penetration
for another ten.  Christ!

Hicks had pulled up a beaten-up, weird-smelling chair to the window.  He
now sat, reclined and relaxed, scanning the opposite building's mostly
open windows with his field optical enhancer, for signs of his quarry,
while the hooker between his legs hungrily went down on him.  Hicks paused
momentarily to contemplate the top of her bobbing, tousled head.  Through
the purple dye, he could see strawberry-blond roots.  He didn't know her
name, and he doubted she was older than fifteen.  Hicks found himself
vaguely disgusted and turned-on at the same time, truly a remarkable state
of mind.  The girl slid his now firmly erect penis from her mouth,
admiring her handiwork. 

"Shit. . .  big!" she murmured, before attacking it again.  And so he was.
 Hicks' penis was eleven inches long, very pale and smooth, almost
hairless.  Surprisingly, the long, erect length was very uniform in
thickness (which was substantial) from glans to base, rather like a
carefully sculpted bar of pale steel.  A pair of rather large testicles,
again almost hairless, were slung beneath the proud shaft, and the young
hooker took particular care to caress gently, wetting them with her own
saliva.  He could feel himself begin to seep into her mouth.  

Raising the field glasses again, Hicks began to scan each open window
across the alley.  The warm, humid air of the planet lent itself to open
windows; none of these buildings looked like they had working plumbing, to
say nothing of air conditioning.  He tapped the magnification pad.
 
Straight fucking, straight sucking, more straight fucking.  One sleazy
male, partially dressed (a Marine, judging from his regulation olive
underwear) paying out worn credit notes to a naked, similarly sleazy
female.  They both looked sweaty and had the sensually-worn, post-fuck
look of satisfaction. Another nude female inserting a wicked-looking
sexual appliance into another male's straining anus (another Marine,
judging from his tattoos).  Hicks lingered on a rather hot homosexual
four-way going, three male hookers giving it hard and deep to muscular
young marine.  --*He* must have had some money--  Hicks though bemusedly,
about to scan to the next window. . . and stopped.  He realized with the
clarity of thought bourn of service in Starfleet that he'd jumped to
several incorrect conclusions.  Fighting a certain giddiness associated
with the feeling of being on the verge of a major discovery, Hicks
re-examined the sexual drama being played out in front of him. He didn't
feel himself swelling larger in the hooker's voracious mouth, dripping
steadily.

First, and most importantly, the muscular marine getting fucked was not a
man, but a woman.  Secondly, of the three male hookers, two were humans
and one was a Vargr, and they were not hookers at all, but marines also. 
The scene filling the enhancer's field of view now had Hick's full and
complete attention.  He knew almost at once how wrong he'd been, mentally
chiding himself.  One of the males chose that moment to move slightly, and
there, on the stained bed, the body of Major Juanita Vasquez, his
commanding officer, was revealed in all its muscular, sweaty glory. 
Between the shortness of her thick black hair and her build, Hicks could
see how he had mistaken her gender.

Hicks activated the enhancer's directional, tight-beam sound pickup, and,
unclipping the mastoid skin speaker from the glasses, licked it and
pressed it to the bone just behind his left ear.  Immediately grunting
moans and heavy breathing leaked into his head, transmitted via his
cranium.  His eyes drank in the scene filling the viewfinder.   She lay on
her back on the bed with the Marines crowded around her, indulging
themselves sexually with her; still, Hicks had a excellent view as the
Vargr spread his commander's legs apart, moving between them.  Amid urgent
encouragements from the other two men to "lock up with her", the Vargr fed
the enormity of his slick, dog-like penis up her moist cunt and began to
fuck her with quick, powerful stabs.  Vas let out a really low moan and
began to grunt in time to the Vargr's thrusts.  Even though the other two
men held the woman's broad shoulders against the headboard, it was clear
that she was a very willing participant in the lusty action.  Her grunts
became a wet moan as one of the men fed his huge, sinewy cock between her
full red lips.  The third man contented himself with rubbing his similarly
well-endowed weapon all over her face.  She began to alternate back and
forth between the two generous shafts, attentively sucking on each
dripping pole.  

Hicks found himself marveling once again at Vasquez' fantastic body.  She
was in superb physical shape, with a distinct but sexy masculine flavor to
her swelled biceps and broadly muscled back and shoulders, an effect
heightened by the fact that she didn't shave.  There were thick mats of
dark, wiry hair nestled under each of her powerful arms, and her pubic
area was, of course, more akin to an animal than man.  Her Latin-extracted
Cruzer heritage was proudly evident in myriad ways.  The deep black color
of her hair.  The olive complexion of her skin, a perfect blend of honey
and cream. 

Hicks realized belatedly that he really hadn't any idea of Vasquez' age. 
She must be around thirty, given her level of advancement, he decided, as
he began to thrust slowly into the girl's mouth.  But his C.O. didn't look
it, especially now.  She appeared quite young, Hicks noted, Perhaps in her
very early twenties, if that.  Her build was very compact, and she looked
even shorter that her five-foot-and-change height indicated, given the
giants surrounding her.  --God, I'll bet she hates short jokes!--  Hicks
mused silently.   Yet despite the firm, rippling bulges of her muscles,
everywhere from her calves to her ass to her arms, Vas wasn't stringy or
veiny, like some woman who weight-trained seriously.  The woman, to
Hicks's mind, had the perfect amount of body fat, smoothing hard, muscular
bulk into something infinitely sexier, more sleekly sensual.  The
masculinity of her build had a smooth, unquestionably feminine flow.  And,
most importantly,  she hadn't lost an ounce of her fantastic tits.  They
were incredibly firm twin globes of bronzed flesh, and looked really big
on her compact frame without being unmanageable.  The wide aureoles were
deep black, again testifying to her Cruzer heritage, and the bright red
nipples were prominently erect and protruding the center of each.  But
now, Vas sported an addition, a small gold ring that bit into, and
pierced, the wet, sticky bud of her right nipple.  Kinky.

Other than that bit of jewelry, and a small gold crucifix she wore around
her neck, intertwined with her dog tags, her body was unadorned, except by
tattoos, scars, sweat, and thick, matted pubic hair.  Hicks examined his
superior intimately, from head and foot, cataloging each feature as a
space explorer would catalog stars.  He'd already seen the Marine Corps
globe-and-anchor tattooed on swell of her right bicep, but he'd never seen
the small but elaborate Special Forces tattoo adorning the lower left
quadrant of her ridged abdomen.  He tapped the magnifier pad to its
maximum setting, and closely examined the blue-green-red-black design of a
blood-dripping dagger surmounting a pocked moonscape.  He could just make
out the fine detail of the banner below it, etched on her sweat-beaded
skin:  "First In - Last Out", the motto of an elite drop commando.   The
dagger seemed to undulate as Vas alternately tensed and relaxed her abs.  

"Bite me just a little, honey," Hicks directed the girl between his
sweat-moist thighs, as he continued to watch the scene playing out a world
away from, and yet not twenty feet from him.  She obligingly began to
gently nip him just behind the glans.  "That's good, baby.  Your tip's
going up all the time. . ."


CRUZING 

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part c)

Hicks noted a faint circular pucker high on her chest above her left
breast.  Bullet hole.   She had another scar, a distinct, slightly ragged
white line, standing out against the coffee skin, approaching a foot in
length, starting just below her right armpit and curving over the broad
sinew of her right shoulder, to disappear on her back.    Finally, the
woman possessed a circular, whitish-striated scar with a slightly mottled
texture on the upper right quadrant of her abdomen, close to the sculpted
centerline of her abs and just above her belly button; it was over two
inches in diameter.  It looked to Hicks like an *exit* wound, like
something had gone through her in the back and come out the front.   Hicks
found his respect for this strange woman growing.  Whatever it was that
gave her that scar, it probably gutted her, partially disemboweling her.  
Massive local infection, especially if it occurred in theater, and fairly
recent, within the last couple of years definitely.  --God, what a
survivor!--  Vasquez also had a small but colorful tattoo on the upper
inside surface of her right thigh, a delicate red rose; again, he could
just make out the banner below it.  To boldly go. . .  From the dedication
plate of the Enterprise.  Well, *that* had to be recent.  The large,
textured oval of discolored, pinkish skin on her right shin he'd already
seen.

Finally, Hicks realized that he was going to have his work cut out for him
with the razor he now carried in his pocket;  his commander was one
*hairy* bitch.  He'd noticed the hair under her arms before, and caught
glimpses of the pubic strip on her abdomen when she'd used him as cover
while she changed vests on the ship.  But now, with her body explicitly
revealed to him, he saw the distinctly non-human side of her.  The short,
but bristly hair adorning her pubic area looked more like an animal's pelt
than human pubic hair.  He found himself looking forward to using the
razor on her.  But first, he'd have to catch her.     

Hicks saw that his commander's three companions were thoroughly enjoying
themselves.  He noted a certain irony in her choice of a Vargr as a sexual
partner.  Although a separately evolved species, Vargrs were in many ways
akin to Cruzers.  They bore no genetic similarities to Terran dogs, but
they sure as hell looked like a cross between a German Sheppard and a
human being.  Like humans, Vargr were bipedal, although their knee joints
flexed backward instead of forward.  However, their heads looked
*strikingly* like those of Terran canines, furry, with snouts and
upraised, dog-like ears.  In many areas of space, Vargrs were openly
referred to as dog-men.  Fur covered there bodies everywhere, and they
possessed fully mobile tails about 12-18 inches long.  They hailed from
Orion space, and were traders by nature.  Some called them the Ferengi of
Orion, and it was not a flattering reference.  Vargr tended to be greedy
and self-interested, and could be rather crude in personal habits.  Where
as Vas was a canine-influenced work of art, the Vargr was more like a
mutt, with stringy brown-gray fur.  However, Vargr (the correct plural
usage) were quick and had excellent senses, which made them valuable to
the Marines.    

One of the men that Vas had been sucking steadily on, the the smaller
brunette Marine, began to grunt forcefully.  Dispassionately, Hicks noted
that the Cruzer gave very good head, using her lips and tongue in concert
to pleasure the man kneeling beside her.  But most importantly, she was
eager.  It showed in the way she hungrily sucked and licked the huge
shaft, almost anxious for his orgasm, savoring each preliminary drop of
his rich male seed.  She was concentrating intently on the act, her mouth
and throat exploring every possible avenue of pleasure for the man's
sexual satisfaction.  Without realizing it, Hicks began to bend the corner
of the durasteel frame that comprised the arm of his chair.  He'd been
unconsciously gripping, worrying it slowly back and forth.  It flexed with
a soft, repetitive creak.

Suddenly, the man gave a lusty shout of, "Oh, SHIT!"  Vas also issued a
rather wet-sounding groan from deep in her throat.  She reached up,
closing her small fist around his iron-hard penis, and eased the big tool
from her mouth.  It emerged jetting copious amounts of white ejaculate,
creaming all over her face, neck, and chest.  He wet her caramel skin
thoroughly before his orgasm began to subside, and with an intent look of
fierce concentration, she licked all over the dripping head of the man's
now-softening erection, cleaning his tool of the same slick deposits which
now dripped from the full mounds of her tits.  The Vargr, upon observing
his cohort's powerful orgasm, gave a throaty growl of excitement.  He
spread the woman's legs wider and, holding them aloft to each side, he
began to work the huge knot of flesh at the base in his penis into her
cunt.  It appeared to Hicks for all the world that his commanding officer
was getting fucked by a huge, anthropomorphized dog.  Hicks was now able
to observe, no longer quite so dispassionately (he didn't notice that the
arm of the chair now lay on the floor, and that he had started on the
other arm) Vas' intimate areas more clearly, now that the Vargr was
holding her legs open.  

Her belly was rigid with strained arousal, and the curly, wiry trail of
jet-black pubic hair leading up to her belly button was standing up with
excitement.  Her pubic thatch was dense but close-cropped, and was matted
with sweat.  The Vargr was eagerly exploring her body, his slick red cock
stabbing her deeply and relentlessly.  Her dilated vagina bore almost no
discernible outer lips, almost as if the tight-looking slit yielded
directly to the wet inner flesh.  However, the tender inner lips of her
vulva clung tightly to the throbbing organ as it slid up and back in the
moist channel.  Finally, if Hicks had any doubts about Vas' origins, they
were laid to rest, for jutting up from a tuft of black pubic hair at the
top of her wet slit was Vas' cock.  It was enormous, its glistening shaft
standing erect and proud from her belly,  looking weird and alien and
almost unimaginably butch.  She was a Cruzer, all right!    The firm,
bright red shaft poked the Vargr in the belly with each thrust he took
into her body.  Neither participant seemed to mind.  As Hicks watched, the
Vargr pulled his slippery, red cock out of Vas vagina and *rubbed* it all
over Vas' slippery red cock.  Whereas Vas dribbled clear, slick fluid, the
Vargr was oozing a thick, whitish-yellowish, mucous-like secretion from
his penis, which appeared quite sticky; it clung to Vas huge erection
rather like glue.  Hicks found himself repelled, and yet fascinated.  Two
aliens representing two ends of an evolutional spectrum:  one near-human,
artifically manipulated, and one natural, and wholly inhuman.  Hicks quite
preferred the artificial creation.

The two men also watched with open lust and no small fascination the sight
of Vas' and the Vargr's red, slick cocks sliding against each other.  They
kidded their Vargr compatriot because Vas was *bigger* than the Vargr was,
by a fair margin (12+ inches versus about nine).  In response, the Vargr
hunched his narrow hips and slid the whole of his penis back into Vas'
cunt.  He *growled* in a totally animal way.  Hicks could hear the men's
filthy conversation intimately. 

"Fuck!  Look at her cock, man!  She's fucking hung like a horse!"  the
smaller, younger brunette Marine exclaimed as he rubbed his own erect
penis over Vas' face.  He slapped her cheek lightly with it.  

"Ain't you never seen a Cruzer before?" the big, ugly blond Marine said,
his lips curling into a lust-induced sneer as he thrust slowly but very
deeply into Vas' sucking mouth, throat fucking her.  "They're all hung
like that."  He grinned at his Vargr buddy.  "How's that cock massage,
amigo?"

The Vargr looked like he was getting close to an orgasm.  His long tongue
was hanging out of the side of his mouth, and he was drooling onto Vas'
stomach.  Moreover, his breath was coming in rapid pants.  He gave a
barking cry in his native language, before graoning in Standard, "My bitch
is TIGHT!"  The big man laughed roughly and slapped the Vargr on the butt,
encouraging him to fuck.   

Vas looked to Hicks like she was on a drop or something.  Her visage was
one of fierce concentration, as she sought the big man's orgasm.  --She
loves her body, takes really good care of it, and has no second thoughts
about using it in ways that please her.--  Hicks mused.  --She must know
that the Three Stooges here are going to talk about her; the hot Cruzer
fuck-machine they met at Starbase 63.  She just doesn't give a fuck. 
You're a very intriguing lady, Vas.--   The Cruzer was panting slightly
now, even though the men were doing most of the work.  She was quite
visibly aroused, Hicks noted.  She was studying the lewd connection of the
Vargr's body to hers.  His weird cock was spreading her sex wide open, and
the other two men were urging their non-human companion to interlock his
sexual apparatus fully with hers.  They seemed to have witnessed this
before.

"Come on, man!  Put it all the way in," coached the smaller man whose
semen now adorned the Vas' body.  He began rubbing his slick juices all
over her full tits and muscular chest, his hands slipping across the wet,
dark skin.

"Yeah, man, arf arf.  I think she likes it!"  chimed the big one, rubbing
his own cock rhythmically.  It leaked against her cheek.  Finally, the
Vas' cunt slid over the Vargr's penis-knot like a mouth swallowing an
apple whole.  She let out a really low moan, and suddenly a very relaxed,
almost kinky smile spread across her face, as if a very dark need had just
been filled.  The Vargr howled like a banshee, beginning his orgasm cycle.
 The shaved cheek of his right buttock, the one which bore his
globe-and-anchor tattoo of the Marine Corps, tensed and relaxed in regular
rhythm in synchronicity with his other (furred) asscheek, and his short,
bristly tail jerked up and down as the dog-like creature began to share
his copious sexual fluids with the woman.

"I guess I'm not the only one who likes it, pendejo. "  She spoke, and
Hicks very nearly came just then.  Her voice veritably *dripped*
sensuality, lust, indescribable kink.  This was no burn-out case, or psych
candidate.  Vas was really, honestly enjoying herself.   Hicks suspected
that this strange woman could take her three lovers apart with her bare
hands if she had really wanted to.  But that wasn't what she wanted.  Not
at all.

"Ohh, shit!" she groaned, as the Vargr probed her body deeply.  "That
feels so fucking *good*!"  She licked at the big man's cock, pointing
directly in her face.   "Wait a sec, man," she told the Vargr,
repositioning her hips slightly.  "Yeah, do it right there, perrito."  
The Vargr, growling sensuously, and obligingly slid deeper into her cunt
from the angle she had indicated, and was thrilled by the sensation of his
pointy cock-tip spearing into her cervix.  The woman groaned loudly, a
long, hearty "Ahhhh" that clearly indicated that the Vargr had exactly
fulfilled her lusty desire.  Hicks marveled at the smooth sexiness of her
voice.  It was a warm, smoky caress of intimate passion with an sleek edge
of latent violence, somewhat highly pitched, but at the same time throaty
and intense.

A flush was beginning to appear on the Vas' chest.  The man who'd already
come slid his hand down her wet chest, moving across her stomach.  He
paused briefly to scratch lightly in the silky pubic hair trailing up her
belly before continuing toward his target:  her fantastic penis.  He
grasped it gently between thumb and forefinger, and lifted the heavy,
swollen shaft from her belly, causing Vas to give a sort of short, high
bark.  She shivered all over as the man stroked it up and down.

"Shit, man, whad'ya do, get in the wrong line when they were handing out
cocks to the guys?  What a fucking mutant!"  He laughed heartily at his
own joke, and wondered for a moment why his fellow human buddy didn't
follow suit.  But then he felt what both Hicks, laughing gently himself,
and his bigger buddy had seen.  Vas had pulled out a large autopistol from
under her pillow and was now nestling its blunt, deadly muzzle directly
under the man's balls.  

"What was that?" the woman asked with deadly calm.  The Vargr had not
stopped fucking her, and did not look like he intended to.  

"Uh, nothing!  Shit. . ."  

After a moment's pause, the woman spoke again to the man, caressing his
balls lightly with the gun. "Tell you what. . .  I'll give you fifteen
seconds to get the fuck out of here before I paste the wall with your
cojones.   That gives you just enough time to leave me the 20 credits you
owe me for the blowjob, but I wouldn't recommend trying to get dressed. 
Comprende, cabron?"  The other man was watching with detached interest. 
"Shit, you'd think he'd never seen a Cruzer before," he muttered. 
"Dumb-ass."

"Jesus Chr. . ."  he began, but Vasquez jabbed him firmly with the gun,
and the muzzle actually entered the man's anus.  "Jesu Cristo  has got
nothing to do with this."  The man leaped off the bed as if shot already. 
He grabbed his pants off the floor and fumbled for his wallet.  

"Nueve, ocho, siete. . ."   she continued distinctly, the pistol steady as
a rock in her outstretched, muscular arm.  Bleating a single, startled
"Shit!" the man let all the money in his wallet spill to the floor.  He
got the fuck out, still butt naked.  Hicks finished destroying the other
arm of his chair.  That seemed to turn the girl on no end.  He looked at
her for a moment.

And smiled warmly.  "O.K., honey, climb up here and fuck me."  He helped
the eager young hooker into his lap, and settled her on his cock.  She
could only take about half of him inside her young body, but that was more
than enough for both of them; she was impossibly tight.  Shivering, she
clung to his sweaty chest, lifting herself up and down  

Hicks, his eyes slightly glazed, lifted the field enhancer once more to
his eyes.  They were getting back down to business; indeed, the horny
Vargr had kept fucking the hot-blooded Cruzer during her whole exchange
with the now departed marine.  She had now rolled over on top of him, his
exploding penis still firmly locked up in her vagina, and was displaying
her sexy caramel ass to the big Marine.  She directed him to enter her
anally.

"Party time," Vas told him.  

*****

An hour later, after Hicks had finished with his hired entertainment (and
tipped her 300 credits), Hicks was walking the hallways of the sleaze
palace across the alley.  He was seeking Room 214.  His Cruzer quarry had
finally finished with the Vargr and the big Marine about five minutes
earlier (in singularly disgusting fashion; a Vargr climaxing looked very
much like a human blowing his nose, thick, yellowish-white, and *stringy*
- Yuck!)  and, after bidding farewell to her grateful companions of the
last hour, she had disappeared into the bathroom, where he couldn't see
her.  Hicks whistled softly to himself, for he was quite happy at the
moment.   He was looking forward to carrying out his orders.  Vas had a
killer body, an obviously high xenotolerance level (not many woman
willingly fuck with Vargr), and, most importantly, Hicks *admired* her: 
her strength, her stamina, her cool, her total honesty.  She was dedicated
to living; it was kind of contagious.    

"Hey, pretty boy!  Where's your momma?"  

Hicks had seen them coming down the hall from the opposite direction, and
already knew that they were going to be trouble before they had even
opened their big mouths.  A familiar-looking Vargr marine and his human
compatriot.  Both were still buttoning up their duty jackets.  --Oh, thank
you God!  Was I that good in a past life?--   Hicks let them advance to
within about ten feet.

"Hey, I think he's lost!" the Vargr growled snidely.  "I'll bet his momma
is on her back right now, entertaining the troops!"  Both idiots cracked
up over this.  They were moving closer.  A lesser man than Hicks would
probably ended up in the alley dumpster.  Or gang-raped in a closet.  When
you came right down to it, a lot of marines were pretty serious bastards. 
--That's what you get when you combine high-tech weaponry with low-tech
brains--  he thought.  Worse, the two males were flush from what would
probably be, for them, the single most exciting sexual conquest of their
lives.  They were both jazzed with macho swagger.

Unfortunately for both marines, they incorrectly analyzed Hicks's easy
smile as bravado.  It was a bad mistake.

"Not a good idea, boys," Hicks said evenly, the easy smile not leaving his
face.  The two Marines paused momentarily.  Then the smell caught him. 
The Vargr *reeked*.  He'd heard about the smell of Vargr's when they
achieved orgasm; heavy, omnipresent, gamy, and *tenacious*.  And they came
in buckets.  Which meant, of course, that Vas was going to smell like
she'd been sleeping in a stable for a week, especially since he'd
personally witnessed this particular Vargr pull his engorged penis, knot
and all, from Vas' vagina (at her urging) and spray her entire torso with
his bestial seed.  Immediately after that, he had *urinated* all over the
gasping Cruzer.  The security officer's smile took an evil turn.  

To his credit, a glint of doubt crept into the eye of the big Marine, and
for a moment, he looked like he'd seen something in Hicks that was best
left undisturbed.  Unfortunately, true to his species, the Vargr was not
nearly so discerning.  He lunged for Hicks, with awesome speed.   Hicks
was prepared though, and as the Vargr charged him,  he pivoted on his hip
and drove home a devastating side-kick which caught the furry alien square
in the solar plexus, his toe forming a point harder than durasteel.  The
Vargr suddenly forgot how to breathe.  Marine training took over for the
big man, who unconsciously joined the fight to help his compatriot. 
Hicks' kick to the now prone, gasping Vargr had put his back momentarily
to the big man, who tried to exploit the advantage by grabbing Hicks
around the throat from behind.  That was just fine with Hicks, who rammed
his elbow into the man's chest, just under the ribcage and into the
diaphragm.  It was now the Marine's turn to forget the basics of
respiration, and while he tried to remember, Hicks rammed the back of his
head into the man's nose.  The big Marine became disinterested in
continuing the fight, and slid to the ground like a bagful of sand.

"Fleet 1, Marines zippo," Hicks offered to the incapacitated twosome.    

Hicks took a moment to straighten his leather jacket, surveying his
handiwork.  The big Marine was out for the count, and would probably
remain so for several hours; his nose seemed to be broken.  Hicks
surprised himself by feeling an elated satisfaction over that.  Meanwhile,
the Vargr lay on his back, making sorry little wheezing sounds.  Pathetic.
. .


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part d)

Hicks knelt beside the Vargr.  A small but lethal hand phaser seemed to
appear in the security officer's hand, as if by magic.  Hicks pressed it
against the creature's lower eyelid.  The scent of the Vargr's orgasm
seemed to emanate from the creature's *every* pore.   
 
"How much did you pay her?" Hicks asked in an icy voice, mildly surprised
at the amount of emotion in it.  
 
"Sh-h-h-she only ch-h-charged us half, man!"  The Vargr could not help but
look at the wicked snub point of the phaser.  It literally filled his
field of vision.
 
"And how much is that?"  Hicks felt the muscles in his neck straining. 
Was his finger tightening on the trigger stud?
 
"Oh, shit. . .  Thirty apiece man!  Thirty!"

A long moment of silence passed between the two.  Then Hicks said simply,
"I think that the lady is worth more than that."  He paused again for a
moment before adding, "Don't you?"  He smiled at the marine.  It was not
comforting.
 
"Oh sweet fuck!  L-l-look man.  My wallet is in my pocket. . ."
 
"Why don't you take it out?"
 
"R-r-right. . ."  The Vargr slowly drew out his wallet, ever mindful of
the gun pointed into his face.  
 
Hicks bent closer to the Vargr. "I think that she's worth at least
double."  Each word seemed to whisper  --I want to kill you---.  "That's
120 apiece, 240 total.  I hope you've got it. . ."  The smell of the Vargr
was really making Hicks' upset.  To think of *this* smell on *his*
commanding officer. . .
 
"Uhh, yeah!  Shit yeah!"  With trembling fingers, the marine counted out
the bills.
 
"Good.  Your friend can pay you back later."  Hicks and the marine looked
at each other for a moment.  Hicks showed no sign of letting the man up. 
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
 
The Vargr now acquired a look of terror.  That didn't happen often with
marines.
He was panting, his eyes wild, fear dripping from every pore.  "Jesus,
man, what?  WHAT?"  
 
Hicks smiled icily at him.  "The tip."
 
The Vargr Marine chose that moment to urinate into his camo pants, which
did *not* help his already funky odor.  He gingerly took out the only
money left in his wallet, which consisted of four rather worn single
credit notes.  He belatedly offered them to Hicks, along with a lame
smile.  Involuntarily, Hicks's smile warmed a little.  Marines!   Hicks
took the bills, and then after a moment handed back two of them.  "Buy
yourself a drink.  You look like you could use one."  Hicks abruptly stood
up, and offered his hand to the Marine.  He took it warily, and stood up
as well, albeit a lot more painfully.
 
That's when Hicks turned to deal with the sound he'd heard a moment
before:  a door opening.  He was not surprised to find a huge black
marine, wearing naught but a white towel wrapped around his
thickly-muscled frame, lining Hicks up in the sights of his autopistol. 
He had "sergeant" written all over him, right down to the cigar clamped
firmly in one side of his mouth.  He surveyed the scene with quick darts
of his alert eyes, never taking them off Hicks for more than a moment.  He
chewed on his cigar for a moment before speaking.
 
"You wanna put down your ray-gun, son?"
 
Hicks smiled.  He hadn't been called "son" since his survival training
course at Starfleet Academy, which had been taught by a Marine.  It
brought back memories.  "Yessir," he said simply, putting the phaser
carefully on the dirty carpet.  He then backed up a pace and put his hands
behind his head.  He smiled again.  
 
Chewing heartily,  the sergeant actually switched the cigar to the other
side of his mouth, breathing smoke through his nostrils.  --My God, it's
actually lit!--  Hick marveled to himself.   Looking past Hicks for a
moment, he motioned to the wheezing grunt.  "What's your ship, dog-face?"
 
"Uhh, the Savage, sir."
 
The black man grinned an evil grin.  "Gorman's ship, eh?  Might have
known."  He sized up the trembling soldier.  "Well, what did we learn
today, boy?"  Hicks tried hard to keep the smile on his own face to
manageable proportions.
 
"Uhh, uhhh,"  the dumb Vargr seemed to be taxing his brain to the limit.  
"Oh yeah!  Tip the hookers, and pay 'em what they deserve, *SIR*."  He
grinned stupidly.  The sergeant shook his head sadly at Hicks.  "Don't
know where there gettin' this shit nowadays."  He motioned to his
unconscious companion.  "Pick up your buddy and split."
 
The Vargr actually saluted.  "Yes, SIR!" he almost shouted, as if it were
the best suggestion he'd heard in his life.  He did as he was told.
 
At that moment, a enormous-breasted, nude blond human female appeared from
behind the sergeant.  She slid her pale hand across the sergeant's broad
washboard chest before slipping it underneath his towel, caressing him
intimately.  "Are you done yet?" she asked sweetly.
 
"In a minute, babe," the sergeant replied, not stopping the blond's
wandering hands.  Nor did he lower the gun.  "That was a perfect side-kick
you laid on those pussies.  Marine style.  You done some Corps time, son?"
 He lazily cocked the hammer on his pistol, to emphasize his disinterest
in being lied to. 
 
Hicks was already respecting this sergeant more and more.  "No," he told
the huge black man, "But I've been getting some personal instruction from
one."  
 
The sergeant chewed some more.  The blond had now moved to her knees in
front of the big marine, and was energetically fellatiating him.  The gun
did not waver one bit, as if it were an extension of the man's fingers. 
"I know just about every Marine in this sector," he told Hicks, breathing
smoke.  "Suppose you tell me who your teacher is. . ."  

Hicks' evil smile was back.  "Major Juanita Vasquez.  Can't miss her;
Cruzer, short, textured white scar the size of your hand on her right leg,
I think she said it was an acid burn, and fucking *hairy*." 

After some more chewing, the sergeant grim visage slowly spread into a
wide, genuine smile.  He laughed to most jovial, honest laugh that Hicks
had ever seen.  "Since Vas is on the Enterprise now, that must make you
*Fleet*!"  The sergeant finally lowered the gun, and stroked the back of
the woman's head currently serving his sexual needs.  "Don't that beat
all!"  

"Sorry," Hicks offered politely.  He lifted  the lapel of his leather
jacket, revealing his Starfleet combadge.

The Marine threw his head back and laughed even harder.  Then, quieting,
he told Hicks. "Sorry 'bout those boys.  I'll speak to Lt. Gorman about
the situation.  Privately."  Hicks was sorry he wouldn't be around for
that conversation.  "Two of his bucks get their asses kicked by a 'Fleet
boy, *I'll* make sure that whole sector knows about it."  He bent his head
down to the woman.  "Alright, sugar, that's enough of that.  You go back
inside and wait for me, and I'll be along shortly."  The blonde pouted,
reluctantly removing her lips from the Marine's engorged member.  She
kissed the black man, letting him taste himself on her lips, before
scampering back into his room.    "If you're going to be in port for a
while, I'd be my pleasure to show you 'round my ship, intro you to my C.O.
 We'd love to hear how Vas is doing among the boys in blue; that little
badass has a rep as long as this sector!"
 
"Sorry, wish I could," Hicks politely declined.  "And you call her little
again, I'm gonna test your speed on the draw. . ."  
 
The big marine smiled broadly.  He put up his hands in a gesture of
non-combatance, nodding with respect to the Starfleet officer.  "Well,
when you see *Major Vasquez* again, tell her Master Sergeant Apone, off
the Paine, sends his best."  Lifer marines were so polite.  Hicks loved
them.

"You know her personally?"

Apone smiled a wise, man-to-man smile.  "Oh yeah. . .  she was the hottest
smartgunner I've ever had the pleasure to run a squad with, back about ten
years ago.  A Marine's Marine, to the absolute fucking core.  Good to see
she's shaking things up in the 'Fleet."

Hicks definitely felt like he'd been shaken up by her. . .  

*****
 
After, he'd bid farewell to Apone (without telling him that Vas was
practically in the next room) Hicks cast a sarcastic look at the lock on
the door which bore the faded placard that read 'Room 214'.  Removing a
small sonic inverter from his leather jacket, Hicks took a brief look
around.  Plenty of groaning and moaning sifted from under the doors of
nearby rooms, but the coast was clear.  He had the lock sprung in three
seconds.  --Getting slow, old man--
 
Hicks listened carefully at the rather flimsy portal.  He eased the now
unlocked door open just a crack.  He smelled soap fighting for supremacy
with Vargr.  The air beyond was warm, humid.  Hicks's field senses kicked
in smoothly.  He also heard, above the now clearly distinguishable sound
of the conventional liquid shower, a slight 'tink' noise.  Hicks stopped
momentarily.  --Oh, she's a smart little bitch, all right--  he thought.  
Hicks ever so gently eased the door open another few inches, mindful of
the increased 'tinking' that the movement produced, until at last he was
able to get his hand in the door.  Feeling around the edge of the door,
his hand encountered exactly what he had been expecting:  a chair, pushed
right up against the door.  
 
Hicks could only reach one of the chair's legs, and so, taking a deep
breath, he firmly grasped that leg and lifted the chair an inch off the
ground.  Only the silence of his held breath betrayed the effort required
to lift and smoothly move the chair by one extreme corner, while keeping
it exactly  level.  The chair slowly pivoted into view on a graceful arc. 
Balanced on the chair's far edge was a pair of marine-issue combat boots
and a stack of three heavy glass hotel tumblers.  Nasty.   Hicks relaxed
only when the chair had cleared the swing path of the door and rested on
solid ground.  He slowly let out his breath, and took a short moment to
let it equalize.  Then, he carefully swung the door open, mindful of
squeaks.  There were none.
 
Immediately, Hicks moved the tumblers and boots to a less vulnerable
location:  namely, the floor.  However, as he was moving the boots, Hicks
noted an unusual scent:  roses!  Amazed, he traced the scent to the boots.
 Sniffing lightly inside (and feeling a bit kinky), he noted the lingering
aroma of good, clean sweat mixed with a subtle, rosy musk.  My God, a
marine ex-smartgunner drop commando who perfumes her combat boots!  
Although amazed, Hicks wasn't really surprised.  He already knew that she
was one of the most amazing people he'd ever met.  Violent yet sensual,
fierce yet patient, experienced yet innocent.  Male yet female, whore yet
madonna. . .   Hicks smiled wickedly to himself.  --Oh, Mr. Hicks, your
wake-up call!--   
 
Hicks quietly removed his leather jacket, laying it carefully on the bed. 
The smell of Vargr was strong there, and there were several damp stains on
the sheets.   It pissed him off.  Then he stalked silently up to the
closed door of the bathroom.  He didn't realize that his penis was hard as
stone.
 
The door yielded very quietly to his subtle pressure.  Through the hot
mist, the textured flex-glass of the shower stall revealed a dark shape
inside.  A white ceramic basin sat on the floor near the shower's door,
filled with an inch of whitish-yellowish fluid which positively reeked of
Vargr.  Thick, white strings of *something* were distributed throughout
the slime.  Hicks began to sweat lightly, something he didn't normally do,
even in the hottest climes, and his white t-shirt stuck to his chest and
arms.  He mentally prepared for a short but intense combat scenario. 
Catlike, he crept to the stall's door.  His hand grasped the handle, and
he quickly jerked it open hard, his open hand plunging inside.  He grasped
something thick and wet.
 
A robe!  The shower was empty, except for a tan terry-cloth robe hanging
from the shower nozzle.  --My god!  I didn't check my corners!--   Hicks
only emotion was one of deep surprise.  
 
"Freeze, pendejo,"  a quiet voice hissed from behind him.  Out of the
extreme corner of his right eye (Hicks had outstanding peripheral vision),
Hicks could just see the mirror.  She  was reflected in it.  The angle of
reflection was such that he only saw her back reflected in the glass.  Her
pearl-handled autopistol was held firmly in an outstretched, two-hand
grip, its rock-steady muzzle leveled directly at the back of his head. 
She was totally naked and dripping wet, her short, dark hair matted
against her skull.  Her small bare feet were planted wide apart on the wet
tile floor.  The dimpled muscular cheeks of her ass were tense, as were
her broad, sinewy shoulders.  Her compact, powerfully-built frame seemed
sculpted of gleaming bronze.  Present was the same thin white scar over
the smooth, golden ripple of her right shoulder that he'd seen earlier.  A
little string of clear, slimy *something*  hung from the intimate area
between her legs, a continuing aftermath to her earlier coupling with the
potent Vargr marine.  
 
"Hands up, slowly," his commanding officer ordered softly.  Her sensual,
sexy voice was laced with restrained violence. "Away from your body,
fucker, or I'll blow your brains all over the bathroom."  Hicks did as she
told him.  "Now, turn around. . ."

Hicks did this too, moving very slowly.  He wanted to see her. . .
 
A moment later, Hicks was looking right into her big, dark, bottomless
eyes, large, twin pools of ink.  There was a tiny tattoo of a teardrop
under her left eye.  --So, you've done some hard time somewhere--  Hicks
though to himself, a little more streetwise that Captain Picard, who'd
also wondered what the tattoo had meant.  Hicks knew.  --Probably
Lucifer's Rock Military Stockade, on Goddard III--  he surmised.  Nobody
does time on Cruz, since there are no prisons, so it must have happened
during her time with the Corps.  And most Marines do their time on the
Rock.  --Well, despite the crucifix, my dear Miss Vasquez, you're no good
Catholic girl--   Hicks, with just the slightest hint of a mischievous
smile, gave her nude body a very practiced looking-over.  He raised an
eyebrow and motioned with his head to her genital area, and the wet
products of the Vargr's lust which were slowly dripping from her. 
 
"Have we been busy?"
 
Juanita Vasquez deliberately cocked the hammer of the big pistol in
response to Hicks's innuendo, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. 
"Blondie," she told him in a smoky voice thick with anger, "You came to
the wrong place for a free show!"
 
"Oh, I can pay, believe me," Hicks said easily.  --Carefully, old man. 
She's probably got reflexes that would amaze a Romulan.--  Hicks had
remembered something that Vas had said in her secret note, about getting
lost in the part.  That would have to be his ace in the hole.  

"I left my coat in the other room. . ."  He motioned with his eyes to the
adjoining room's door.  Vas' eyes flicked in the direction he had
indicated, as most people's will when given that subtle prompt.  It was
difficult for Hicks tell, given that Vas had no corneas, but Hicks saw the
subtle movement of her head that accompanied the glance.  
 
--Got you!--
 
The instant the woman's eyes flicked away from him, Hicks became a blur of
motion, lunging for her like a striking cobra.  She'd made four mistakes
in all in confronting him:  1)  she hadn't shot him immediately, 2)  she'd
take her eyes off him involuntarily, 3)  she'd targeted his head, when the
torso made a much surer target in such close quarters, and most critically
of all, 4)  she'd held her gun in an outstretched grip, much too close to
her target.  More than close enough for Hicks to reach it.
 
To her credit, the woman got off two shots, but by that time the gun had
been forced upwards by the talon-grip of Hicks's hands, now closed over
both the weapon and her hands gripping it.  The gun exploded twice in
rapid succession, ripping dual holes in the ceiling.  --Hope nobody's home
upstairs--   Hicks thought as he twisted her trigger finger against the
pistol's firing guard, dislocating it in one smooth motion.    Vas gave a
short, quiet gasp of pain and surprise.  She was looking deeply into Hicks
eyes, as if she were trying to look into his head to guess his next move. 

--She was so fucking *strong*--


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part e)

It took every ounce of Hick' strength to hold his commanding officer's
wrists high in his vice-like grip.  Using his superior mass, Hicks
simultaneously stepped inside her legs with his right foot, hooking his
foot behind her left heel.  He then tripped her backwards roughly against
the sink, trapping her knees with his and incidentally protecting his
testicles.  With preternatural skill, Vas managed to kick him in the shin
(not much strength on it, because her knee was trapped).  But the kick
partially freed her left knee, which she then used, with awesome speed and
ferocity, to 1)  knee him in the stomach, 2) jab him hard in the ribs, and
3) lever her left leg free, which she used to jab the *hard* point of her
toe into his leg, narrowly missing his right kneecap.  Instead of fighting
the pain, Hicks accepted it, like Vas herself had taught him, using it to
center himself.  Keeping her arms trapped above her head, he slammed her
hands violently against the mirror behind her, shattering the glass and
bringing from her another small cry of pain.  She was nightmarishly
strong, and again, to her credit, it took three repetitions of that
maneuver to loose the gun from her hands.   Finally, the weapon and the
remains of the mirror fell to the tile with a clatter.  
 
Keeping her hands pinned, Hicks lifted Vas by her arms onto the sink, and
simultaneously forced his body between her legs, spreading them wide to
either side of his hips and rendering them largely ineffective.  Every
*single* muscle on her wet, slippery body seemed to be rigid.  He rammed
her back hard against the wall behind the sink, actually breaking the
mounting of the now shattered mirror.  Remarkably, her jaw set tighter,
and she gave a small grunt, but that was it.  Hicks again looked her body
over, more deliberately this time.  Vas' eyes watched his with a hungry,
animal intensity.  From her toes to pinned arms, he examined in depth
every inch of her body.  She patiently accepted his examination without
comment, but she didn't relax for one moment, and Hicks had to apply
steady and considerable force to keep the fierce young Cruzer from
escaping his iron grip.  
 
"I think you're worth more than half-price," Hicks told her quietly, now
looking her in the eyes.  "Considerably more."  He looked deep into the
inky blackness, focusing his concentration.  Neither spoke, and for a long
minute the only sounds in the small bathroom were the hissing of the
shower and their quiet breathing.  --Careful--   Finally, after what
seemed an eternity, the woman began to slowly relax.  Carefully, Hicks
slid one of his hands over both of her small wrists, and pressed them
*firmly* against the wall.  She watched him like a snake.  With one hand
thus free, he reached into the back of his pants and retrieved a pair of
security binders.  

When the binders slid around Vas' wrists and clicked home,  a low, soft
moan escaped Vas' lips.  

Hicks looked at her smiling.  "I win," he said simply.  "You gonna be a
good girl?"

Vas looked at him like he'd just run his tongue over her soul.  "I'm all
yours, lover," she told him in a low quiet voice that quivered slightly
with arousal.  "Enjoy. . ."
 
With deliberate intent, Hicks slowly bent his face to hers, and kissed her
sweet lips, caressing them with his own.  Their tongues entwined slowly,
sharing a gentle yet passionate embrace.  Hicks's hands began to move down
the woman's muscular arms, feeling the tension ebb from beneath the
sweat-slick skin.  With a smooth motion, Hicks slipped his arms around her
back, moving one hand up to caress the short, black hair at the nape of
her neck.  Their tongues slipped back and forth in each other's mouths for
several long minutes, until Hicks sensed that the woman was out of breath,
gasping lightly.  Trembling in his embrace, she looked at him in wonder,
her eyes clouded with emotions totally unfamiliar to her.
 
"You okay?" Hicks asked softly, brushing his lips against her cheek.  

"Yeah," Vas said simply, "I'm so fucking perfect you wouldn't believe it.
. ."  she touched her lips to his again with a slight, softly moaned "Ohh.
. ."  They kissed sensually for another long minute.  When Hicks broke
this second kiss, his commanding officer was breathing hard, and her eyes
were closed.  When she opened them, Hicks saw in her eyes the open
invitation to fuck her senseless.  "Did you bring the razor?" she
breathed.

Hicks reached into his back pocket, still holding Vas wrists pinned over
her head.  He showed the literally *razor* sharp tool to Vas, holding it
close in front of her face.  The shiny metal blade seemed to devastate
Vas, her breath momentarily catching in her throat, her brows furrowing
with sexual tension.  "Awesome. . ." she breathed, before  carefully
extending her long, pink tongue to *lick* the blade slowly, almost
thoughtfully.  Her eyes never left his.  --A man could lose himself in
there-- came the unbidden thought to Hicks.  

"Be prepared, that's my motto," he grinned.

Hicks carefully put the razor between Vas' teeth, and then lifted her off
of the sink and put her over his shoulder, carrying her rather like a
spoil of war.  He took her back into the bedroom, and laid her down on the
bed.  He then used the binders to bind her wrists over her head to the
duralloy headboard of the bid.  He paused, surveying his handiwork.  He
took back the razor, and replaced it with his mouth, kissing his commander
again, deeply, licking at the inside of her mouth, savoring the slight
spice of her saliva.  When he broke it, Vas licked her lips, savoring his
taste.   He began to slowly run his hands over her incredible body while
she silently watched, feeling her muscular arms and shoulders.  His hands
slid to her armpits, and gently stroked the moist, matted hair there.  Vas
moaned softly.  The smell rising from her body was incredible, equal parts
Vargr, sweat, and soap.

Abruptly deciding that it was time to take care of business, Hicks stood
up and stripped for his commander, showing her his own muscular, pale,
well-sculpted body.

No words were spoken as Hicks began to prepare Vas for her upcoming
shaving.  Hicks saw that Vas' incredible penis had begun to slip forth;
she was obviously incredibly turned on.  About four inches of the bright
red shaft had slid out of its tight, moist sheath, and was sliding back
and forth in the most amazingly kinky way.

Satisfied with the position and readiness of both himself and his
commanding officer, Hicks moved slowly over to the side of the bed,
letting Vas have a good look at his body, his penis.  He took himself in
his hand and stroked slowly, milking a large drop of clear, preliminary
semen from the tip.  Vas looked at it hungrily, a look which Hicks
noticed.  He carefully wiped it onto his fingertip, where it glistened
like a lusty dewdrop.  Without speaking, he reached down and slowly rubbed
the slippery fluid over Vas' lower lip.  The look she gave him was intense
enough to cleave dilithium.  

"God, where to start?"  Hicks breathed, surveying his commander's hairy
body.  A slow, relaxed smile crept across her features, as Vas accepted
the situation.  Moving smoothly, now sure of himself, Hicks slid onto the
bed and straddled Vas' torso.  He moved his thick, penis to within inches
of her face, and let her smell his masculinity, letting her get accustomed
to it.  Her eyes were transfixed by its heavy, beautifully sculpted length
for long moments, before they flicked up to meet his.  She waited
patiently for his next move.

She didn't have to wait long.  Slipping a hand around the back of her
head, Hicks gently brought it forward towards his penis.  Carefully, he
began to feed her his cock, letting her take it slowly, but giving her
every inch.  Vas readily took the whole length down her throat, smoothly
swallowing, and grunting softly one or twice (Cruzers have no gag reflex).
 Her tongue was *alive* everywhere on his cock, and never stopped
caressing the sensitive underside of the smooth, firm shaft.  Hicks
marveled at the way the muscles of her jaw and throat worked, like a fine,
precision machine that was simultaneously a work of art.  Every muscle,
every surface inside her mouth unified to bring him to orgasm.  Hicks had
never experienced such a blowjob, devastating in its perfection.  She
sucked, nibbled, *bit*, sucked some more, slipped her mouth up and down,
up and down, bit again, sucked some more.  Her rhythm was unpredictable,
and conspired quickly to quicken his breath and bring up a lovely, anxious
itch out of his belly and into his cock.  

She was watching him now, seeing the approach of his orgasm reflected in
his eyes, hearing it in his breath, *smelling* it in her nostrils, so
thick that for her it overpowered the Vargr's lingering scent still
clinging to her body.  She went after his orgasm like both their lives
depended on it, chasing it, running it down, attacking it with a smooth,
restrained frenzy that was gentle and insane at the same time.  Hicks
found himself slowly thrusting in and out of her mouth, but not because he
needed it for his own enjoyment; rather, it seemed to inspire Vas to renew
her efforts.  She looked like she hadn't had a drink in a month, and was
drinking at an oasis.  Her breath whistled through her flaring nostrils,
sweat ran down the side of her face.  Under his ass, Hicks could feel the
moist heat of her body.  He reached down and began to stroke her damp
hair.  

"That's it baby, so good. . .  so good," he urged gently, his voice horse,
showing the strain.  He was sweating now too, getting so close to climax. 
"God dammit, you know *just* how to suck. . ."  What amazed Hicks the most
was that Vas at no time had to suck quickly; her technique was all in the
precise areas her tongue would touch and swab, the timing of her gentle
biting combined with the suction of her lips and throat, the way she
controlled penetration, and the potent muscularity of her throat.  Maybe
since she also had a penis, she knew how to pleasure one all the more
intimately.

And then, he was there.  He slid reluctantly out of her mouth, angled his
body to the side, nestled his cock into the sweaty hair of her left
armpit, and came all over it, incidentally raking her shoulder and left
breast with his semen.  Vas watched intently, with a fierce look of
concentration, and Hicks watched her nostrils flare *wide* as she breathed
in his orgasm.  She let out a very low, animal growl.  

The razor was in Hicks hand in a heartbeat.  "Hold still, now," he gently
told her, still slightly out of breath, to which she nodded a short
affirmation.  He massaged the warm semen into the bristly hair, until the
whole of her underarm was slippery and the hair clung wetly to her skin.  

Scrape. . .  Scrape. . .  Scrape. . .

Hicks bent to his task with combat intensity.  Vas' pubic hair was very
tough and thick, and Hicks had to proceed slowly.  Also, the razor was
indeed very sharp, necessitating great care.  It was precision work of the
most intimate kind.  After every scrape, Hicks wiped the blade clean on
the pillow right next to Vas' head, letting her see her own underarm hair
coming off one stroke at a time.  Vas was clearly getting off on the
intensity of the scene; her lips were pulled back, revealing her sharp,
white teeth, she was breathing deeply, and under half-lidded lids, her
eyes watched in naked, lusty hypnotism every detail of her shaving by her
subordinate.  Then Hicks began to lick her clean after every stroke of the
razor, tasting his own semen commingled with her sweat.  This drove Vas
absolutely crazy, Hicks noted with satisfaction, and he heard her utter
"ohhh, god!" in the barest whisper.  Her breath was coming in small,
urgent gasps.  

Scrape. . .  Scrape. . .  Scrape. . .

Hicks felt something wet and warm spatter his ass.  Turning around to
look, he was momentarily shocked by the sight of her fully emerged and
erect penis standing stiff and upright from the upper split of her vagina.
 It was dribbling clear fluid down the shaft and onto her belly, but would
occasionally issue a longer, more potent squirt which, for the most part
landed on her own chest, but also was now raking Hicks' back and ass. 
Hicks examined with awe the sheer animal attractiveness of the huge, fiery
red organ, the weird beauty of its thick foreshaft and reverse-taper, the
delicate grace of the fleshy, pointed tip, the oddly masculine symmetry of
the beveled, bilaterally sculpted glans.  Totally alien, absolutely
gorgeous, fucking kinky as hell.  

Hicks turned back to Vas, who was looking at him intensely.  She knew what
he'd been looking at, and awaited his reaction.  But instead of speaking,
Hicks leaned down slowly and kissed his commanding officer with sweet, hot
passion, covering her mouth with his, sensually probing every corner of
her mouth.  When he broke it, she gave him a look that indicated she
trusted him with her life.

"You have *the* most beautiful cock I've ever seen, sir," Hicks told her,
deliberately addressing her as his commanding officer.  "After I finish
shaving under your arms, I'm going to suck your cock until you come all
over yourself."  Hicks leaned closer to her, his lips brushing hers as he
spoke.  "Then I'm going to shave you bare. . ."  

Hicks had other plans to attend to first, however.  He finished shaving
her left armpit and licked it clean intimately, and then licked it some
more because he liked the noises she made while he did it, sort of a sexy
groan that kept repeating itself.  He then observed his handiwork, proud
not to have cut her even once.  Where he'd shaved off her pubic hair, the
skin was darker than it was elsewhere, as the pubic hair follicles were
quite large and dense, moreso than for a human.  A Cruzer's pubic hair was
more or less half-way between hair and fur, and Vas was no exception.  The
shaved skin was *quite* smooth, however, and Hicks enjoyed himself for a
moment by slowly rubbing his fingertip back and forth over the wet,
smooth, tender flesh.  His commanding officer moaned deeply, and Hicks
felt the warm, wet squirting of her semen hit him between the shoulder
blades.  --Shit, she was potent!--  Hicks turned to look at her penis,
just in time to see another squirt shoot three feet in the air, wetting
the sheet next to her.  Hicks saw several other wet stains on the sheets
surrounding her.  

Unable to stand it any longer, Hicks again straddled her chest, feeling
the swell of her full tits under him.  He felt the sticky sap from her
nipples smear the backs of his thighs.  This time he tangled her fingers
in the short thicket of sweat-moist hair at the back of her head, and
brought her head forward just a little roughly.  She seemed to like that,
issuing a soft groan of arousal, which turned rather wet-sounding when he
began to feed her cock.  Again, he was a little more forceful this time,
sliding into her throat at his pace, not hers.  Vas adjusted like a
professional whore, relaxing her throat during penetration, tensing it
upon withdrawal, allowing her teeth to lightly scrape the underside of
Hicks slippery cock.  She took all eleven inches, over and over.  

"Come on, baby, that it,"  Hicks urged softly, gently.  He lifted his ass
from her chest, feeling her sticky nipples pull away with reluctance from
the back of his thighs, so as to be able to thrust more deeply into her
mouth.  "Get us some more come to work with."  Vas began to make small
noises of arousal, tiny grunts and moans testifying to how much the scene
was blowing her away.  Soon, Hicks joined her, feeling the approaching
orgasm beginning to leak into his cock.  This would be his third inside an
hour, and was approaching like the shockwave of a supernova.  

All at once, he was there again, and Hicks wasn't quite fast enough this
time, and so treated Vas' mouth to a long, potent gout of semen before he
could pull free.  He sprayed semen all over her right cheek before his aim
sharpened, finally wetting her right armpit.  This time, Hicks used his
tongue to lick the salty ejaculate into the dark, musky hair.  His
commander was sweating like a bushboar from his native Malibu, but
strangely, for all her worry, she seemed to be responding very well to the
fuck scene she had so carefully engineered.  She appeared very relaxed,
obviously enjoying herself sexually, clearly aroused by her lieutenant's
powerful masculinity, and totally content to let him shave her bare.  She
patiently observed the shaving of her right underarm, watching with wide,
black eyes as the pubic hair was scraped gently away and the resulting
bare skin licked clean.  Hicks was very attentive with her, and paused
occasionally to kiss her broad shoulder or gently tongue the veiny swell
of her bicep, licking away the beaded perspiration.  

Finally, Hicks leaned back up and kissed Vas sensually and deeply, sharing
his respect and admiration for her.  It was astoundingly erotic to kiss
Vas, his commanding officer.  He broke it exceedingly gently, his tongue
softly licking along her lips before parting.  Hicks was suddenly struck
by just how vulnerable the Cruzer had made herself with him.  She'd laid
it *all* on the line, and all because she'd wanted to show him how
grateful she was to him, for his help and support.  She'd given her body
totally to him, in such a way as to be mutually arousing.  He knew he'd
give his life for her without question.

"If it's all right with you, sir," Hicks asked Vas, looking deep into her
huge, dark eyes, "I'd really like to suck your cock until you come, and
then shave your pussy with your own semen."  He waited for an answer,
relishing his orders.  

Vas looked at him with slightly glazed (but thankfully totally black)
eyes, as if summing up the depth of his commitment to her.  "Well, they
ain't paying you by the hour. . ." she said, satisfied, in a soft but firm
voice that held the promise of absolute cooperation.  Hicks needed no
further prompting, and immediately settled comfortably between her
muscular legs.  He began to gently lick the pubic hair surrounding her
vagina and penis, his nostrils filled with the heavy, spicy scent of her
dribbling cock.  Her ridged belly was already stained with her semen, and
as Hicks licked his way through the musky pubic hair to the base of her
penis, he began to taste the fluid.  

"Outstanding. . ." he breathed softly as he licked her clean, much as a
cat would lick clean a newborn kitten:  thoroughly and patiently.  Her
flavor was strong, stronger than that of a human male, and a bit animal,
ferally tangy but cut with a very complex biological sweetness that Hicks
couldn't begin to identify.  He found it strangely compelling, and wanted
more.  His eyes flicked up to those of his commanding officer, to find her
watching his every move.  He saw her ever so slightly arch her eyebrows,
silently indicating the obvious question:  "When are you going to put your
mouth on me?"

Vas watched with outward calm as her second officer's tongue slipped out
and gently licked the base of her penis, circling the sheath, licking away
the semen from the tight folds, before opening his mouth and planting his
lips on the shaft.  Inside, however, she was going slightly insane with
sexual tension.  She *knew* that her orgasm was going to be torrential. 
Her calm deteriorated significantly as Hicks hot mouth slid up to the apex
of her massive erection, while his hand encircled her penis at its
constricted midshaft taper, right behind the greater thickness of the
foreshaft.  He watched her face as he licked away the slippery trails of
semen from each urethra in turn, and then ran his tongue all over the
wedge-shaped glans.  It was just then that Vas sprayed Hicks' tongue and
lips with a particularly forceful spurt of clear, slippery preliminary
ejaculate from the upper cleft, followed a moment later by an ever bigger
squirt from the lower cleft.  Hicks abruptly lost all of his composure and
devoured her beautiful penis all the way down to his own hand.  He began
to suck her intimately, strongly, lovingly.  

Vas slipped into a private little world of lust as she watched Hicks blow
her expertly.  The man had obviously had *substantial* practice.  He used
his lips and tongue to best effect, but he had the most devious way of
sucking *strongly* but smoothly.  If Vas fellatio technique revolved
around finesse, skillful variation of pressure and tempo, and gentle
biting, Hicks' skill lay in more of a "siege and conquer" style involving
direct, firm, strong stimulation of the penis with emphasis on suction and
thrusting.  Whereas Vas tended to slid her mouth up and down a penis more
slowly, she worked more intimately on each stroke; Hicks tended to let the
thrust provide some of the pleasure, in conjunction with the slippery
friction of his mouth and throat.  Perhaps Vas' approach was more
feminine, while Hicks' was decidedly masculine.  Either way, the result
was inevitably a messy, wonderful orgasm.


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part f)

Vas saw that Hicks had long ago gotten over any gag reflex, and was now
seeking to make contact with the base of her cock with his lips.  Her
thick foreshaft was *somewhere* deep in his throat, getting worked over by
the muscles there, while his lips sought more of her throbbing penis.  
The man was really beginning to take her towards her climax; she felt
herself begin to squirt more rapidly deep in his throat.

"Soon. . . gonna pop real soon," Vas breathed, her voice horse and full of
arousal.  The Cruzer was clearly starting to lose it.  Not only could
Hicks see it, in her eyes, in the flush beginning to spread on her
muscular chest, the way she licked her lips, the beads of sweat dotting
her forehead, he could also hear it, in her deep, rapid breathing, in the
feverish quality of her voice.  Most intimately, he could *feel* her
arousal in the gradual swelling of her already thick, swollen penis;  it
*trembled* like a separate creature, and Hicks could feel the hot spurts
of her semen coming faster and faster against the back of his throat.  The
raw, animal scent of her orgasm was thick in his nostrils, filling his
sinuses, his world, his universe.  It was now the only thing he could
smell, overpowering all other scents, even that of the Vargr:  the musky,
earthy, spicy-sweet smell of Cruzer semen.  Vas' semen.  His commanding
officer's semen.  He *wanted* it.  

Only then did Hicks begin to gently bite her penis, which immediately
brought forth the most amazingly male-sounding *grunt* from Vas.  Her
breathing abruptly became irregular, and Hicks was delighted to see her
hands grasp the duralloy bar through which the binders were threaded and
pull *hard*.  The metal creaked, and Hicks saw it flex.  

"You keep that up, I'm gonna fucking *drown* you. . ." Vas hissed.  It was
just about the first complete sentence she'd said since he'd begun shaving
her, and was indeed giving every indication of a Cruzer preparing to
climax strongly and copiously.  Every inch of her glistened with the sweat
of her exertions, lending a deep, golden glow to her caramel skin.  Each
of Vas' full breasts was smeared with the sap secreted from her nipples,
and the black aureoles were dotted with goosebumps.  The wet teats stood
proud and stiff, and Hicks could actually see the tiny dewy drops of
honey-like lactation emerge from the red flesh.  Hicks was pleased to be
able to see the gleaming lather of sweat in both her bare, smooth armpits.
 He sucked and nibbled her huge cock, dragging the orgasm out of it, and
suddenly realized that she was fighting him, trying to hold back her
onrushing climax.  

Hicks wouldn't stand for it.  He slid his mouth up on the massively
engorged shaft, until his lips collared the thickest part of the huge
foreshaft.  He then pulled his lips back and made Vas watch as he bit her
firmly and repeatedly all over the foreshaft, from just forward of the
widening midshaft taper to the beveled glans.  

"Ohhh god, Darryl, for you, all for you,"  Vas gasped to Hicks in a
strained whisper, his bites sending shocks of unbelievable pleasure deep
into her belly, where a fire seemed to be raging.   Her muscular abs now
stood out with etched definition, forming the traditional, and startlingly
visible pattern under the coffee skin of her belly and stomach.  Hicks
thought perversely that Vas seemed to be totally at ease with their
respective roles, despite her earlier concerns; she was *supervising* his
sucking, encouraging him to break her control over her own bodily
responses, and yet still maintaining her command presence over him the
whole time.  God, it was really kinky!  Hicks was glad she'd sorted it
out.  

Vas closed her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath.  The sweat dripped off
of her, like a thoroughbred horse just come in from a long ride.  She let
out a really long, low moan.  "Shit. . .  almost lost it," she announced
in a quavering voice thick with sexual exhaustion; he was wearing her
down.  His tongue was now flicking rapidly back and forth over the fleshy
tip of the beveled glans.  He'd known that she'd very nearly come, for
she'd issued five or six rather liberal spurts of semen from the lower
cleft of her penis, a mini-orgasm for her, a full-fledged ejaculation for
a human male.  The warm fluid had tasted subtly different from her
pre-ejaculate, more earthy, more complex, and stronger, less sweet but
more cinnamon.  Her orgasm was an incredibly complex event, with many
levels and subtexts, and Hicks was thoroughly entertained by it.  The
final act was only moments away, however, and both officers realized it.  

Vas knew she was losing her battle with Hicks' demonic mouth.  The last
straw for her was when Hicks had slid to his stomach between her muscular
legs and tenderly slipped his arms under her thighs, which angled her hips
upward, and of course presented her massively erect penis perfectly for
Hicks to continue his lusty oral attack.  But, to Vas deep arousal, he
wrapped both his arms around her thighs and rested his hands on her belly.
 Then he began to lightly scratch her abdomen and stomach, and rub up and
down the the bristly pubic trail connecting her cock and her belly button.
 Vas found it exquisitely erotic.  She started to *growl* in a low fierce
voice, and Hicks knew he'd won.

Vas had known for several minutes that when she did finally come, she was
going to have a "staggered" dual orgasm.  Only Cruzers with dual
triprostates, and thus separate urethras and separately "wired" sexual
responses, could have this type of orgasm, which involved achievement of
orgasm in one triprostate, and then separate achievement of another orgasm
in the remaining triprostate in the midst of the initial orgasm cycle. 
Ever since Dr. Crusher had cleared her left triprostate of its scar tissue
and helped it to begin healing fully, Vas' sexual response had returned to
the way it had been when she was younger, before her rape by the Klingons.
 Vas very commonly achieved this type of orgasm; her left triprostate
(threaded to her lower urethra) had always been more sensitive, and
usually beat the right triprostate to orgasm by anywhere from ten seconds
to a full minute or two.  Which Vas didn't mind at all.  The sensation of
achieving the additional orgasm in the middle of an orgasm in progress was
one of the most potently, sensually erotic sensations that was possible
for a Cruzer to experience.  In her youth, Vas could, when properly and
carefully stimulated, alternate orgasms in her upper and lower urethras,
thus keeping up an interconnected series of orgasms that switched back and
forth.  Once, during the Games, she'd managed to climax nine time in a
row, five from the lower and four from the upper, during a twenty-two
minute time span.

Now, Vas felt the burning heat begin to seep from deep in her belly into
her penis, bathing it with itchy fire.  Unbeknownst to her, she'd begun to
growl even louder, and shockingly animal noise.  She wanted to warn Hicks,
but the words wouldn't come; she only managed to groan intensely.  But
Hicks knew.  Vas had begun to spurt feverishly in his mouth, the warm, wet
juices *shooting* in small but fierce little squirts from the lower
urethra, and the upper urethra dribbling more or less continuously. 
Amazed, Hicks slipped his mouth up and down the length of her shaft,
occasionally pulling his lips back to let the warm, thin semen run down
the bright red shaft, only to slide his mouth down the Cruzer's enormous
organ once again and collect them once again before they could disappear
into the woman's thick pubic hair.      

Suddenly, Hicks heard his command utter an interesting sort of low,
guttural moan, barely human sounding.  Her thick, reflexively spurting
penis seemed to grow larger still in his sucking mouth.  Sensing that she
was about to climax, Hicks drew his mouth up to the midpoint of her
awesome shaft, his lips just behind the flare of the foreshaft, and as he
sucked tenderly, she abruptly creamed down his throat.  Hicks felt the
semen rushing under his tongue, padding as it did the underside of her
organ.  Although he couldn't exactly tell, it seemed to him that only the
lower cleft was issuing semen.  He didn't care; Vas' orgasm was hot, wet,
and beautiful.  Her orgasm began with an uninterrupted stream of semen
lasting eleven seconds, at which point she settled down into her normal,
pulsing delivery.  

As his commanding officer continued to orgasm violently in his mouth,
Hicks, between swallows, watched her as she came.  She looked radiant, her
face a sensual mask of pleasure so intense that it was almost a form of
torture for her.  He eyes were tightly closed, her nostrils flared with
each deep, ragged breath she took, her lips were pulled back to reveal
small, perfect white teeth (except for the exaggerated canines) clenched
tightly together, with her breath hissing through them.  Occasionally, she
would give a small cry as a particularly powerful orgasmic contraction
tightened in her belly.  

Hicks really didn't have much of an idea how long this went on;
truthfully, he was almost as blown away as Vas by what was occurring.  The
scent of her climax was thick in his nostrils.  Experimentally, he pulled
his lips back from the wet, slippery erection between then (what little he
could, for even the midshaft was now very thick, and the foreshaft
absolutely *filled* his mouth and throat).  Immediately, her semen,
commingled with Hicks' saliva, began to slip down the shaft in large, wet
drips, moistening her belly and drenching her vagina.  Hicks found the
sight unbelievably sexy, in a very intimate way. He was surprised at how
clear the fluid was, and how thin; her semen was, however, very, very
slippery.  

His eyes flicked back up his commander's face, and found himself staring
deep into her black-within-black eyes.  He found himself performing for
her, letting her huge shaft slide even deeper into his mouth, letting his
throat relax for the potent thickness of her foreshaft.  This beautiful
woman, this Cruzer, was giving him all she had to give, and he wanted her
to enjoy herself to the fullest possible extent.  In an odd way, Hicks had
ceased to consider the whole scene as her reward to him; instead, he now
sought to help Vas achieve the deepest orgasm she was capable of, to
reward her for the intense intimacy she'd shown him.  

Hicks, while he sucked, began to explore Vas' dripping vagina with
patient, curious fingers, spreading her own ejaculate up into her own
cunt.  He was surprised again to find her vaginal channel trembling,
almost *vibrating*, and it constricted with surprising strength on his
fingers.  Hicks knew that he would be exploring *that* particular feature
very soon.  With practiced ease, he slipped his fingers from her vagina
and, reaching up, rubbed then all over Vas' lips, gently encouraging her
to taste herself.  She allowed her lips to part, and began to lick them
clean.  Wow!  She was *so* responsive.  Hicks was profoundly struck by the
marked contrast between Vas' normally ultracool, impenetrable demeanor and
her current, sensual vulnerability.  *This* was why she had to be so
careful in giving herself to him.  With her penis deep in his mouth,
inextricably enmeshed in her orgasm, the essence of the woman was laid
bare for Hicks:  everything Juanita Vasquez did, be it fighting or
fucking, she did with *total* commitment and utter dedication.

Hicks rubbed his fingers slowly back and forth over the ridges of her abs,
feeling the well-defined, beautifully symmetrical "washboard" texturing
her stomach and lower belly.  Vas had only been climaxing for about two
minutes, it seemed more like ten to Hicks.  While he continued to pet her
stomach with one hand, Hicks gently encircled the base of her penis with
the other and, with exceeding care, he began to masturbate her as she
came.  Vas grunted deeply, and her head tossed from side to side in her
passion.  She gave a short but lusty scream.  Then, amazingly, Hicks felt
renewed, rapid spurts of semen rush through her huge penis, this time
under his upper lip and the roof of his mouth.  She was experiencing
another orgasm, this time from the other, upper cleft.  --This woman is
fucking *fantastic*--  Hicks marveled, swallowing anew.  His own belly had
begun to acquire a full, heavy feeling. . .

It was only at this juncture that Hicks remembered that he still had a lot
of shaving to do, and the reason that he'd blown her in the first place
was to get her pubic hair lubricated for the event.  With that, he began
to slide his wide-stretched mouth up her torrid penis.  He was thrilled to
find that the shaft had engorged so fully that it was only with some
difficulty that he was able to allow the thickest portion of the flared,
swollen foreshaft to pass between his lips.  His teeth scraped along the
thin, hot membrane of its tangy surface, but Vas seemed not to mind; in
fact, she sounded like she'd enjoyed the gentle torture thus provided.  As
the spurting glans slid from his throat and into his mouth, he became
intimately reacquainted with the taste of her orgasm, its blend of heavy
animal tang, hint of citrus and cinnamon, and sweet, bleachy starch.  The
scent had now completely overwhelmed that of her previous Vargr companion.

Her penis sprayed the left side of Hicks' face as its beautifully sculpted
glans slipped from between the security officer's lips.  The lower cleft
dribbled semen, spurting weakly every few seconds, but the upper cleft was
dilated wide and shooting forceful squirts of clear fluid every other
second.  The jets struck Hicks' chin, neck, and shoulder with surprising
force.  He held the jetting shaft straight up from Vas belly, so they
could both watch her climax.  The virile spurts arced three feet over Vas
outstretched body, splattering her belly, chest and face.  Mercifully,
Hicks slid his hand up the long shaft to gently cup the beveled glans, and
allowed Vas to orgasm into his palm.  In this way, he spread the clear,
musky syrup all over his commanding officer's sweating stomach, abdomen,
thighs, and especially her pubic area, liberally smearing the pubic hair
covering her vulva, inner thighs, and lower belly.  He gently spread the
fluid into the split of her ass as well, caressing her intimately.  Vas
rewarded him with an especially sensual moan as he carefully circled her
anus with a slippery finger.  He flicked his eyes again up to hers, saw
her eyebrow arched with an unasked question.  Gently, he slipped the
finger smoothly into her anus, and was startled to see her *buck* in her
restraints.  Corded sinews stood out on the inside of her thighs, and her
biceps were swollen in tension.  

Inside her rectum, Vas' dual triprostates were impossible to miss.  Hicks
knew that Cruzers had reproductive glands like those of a man, but he
hadn't expected them to be quite so large or sensitive.  Generally, he had
to do a bit of searching to find just the right "sweet" spot in a human
male's prostate to elicit his maximum sexual pleasure.  Vas' glands,
however, protruded into the rectal wall and *throbbed* with a weird life
all their own.  He began to tease them with his finger, and quite
literally drove Vas insane for several long moments, during which time he
was able to elicit alternating spurts of come from each of her urethras,
depending on which gland he probed.. He finally stopped when he began to
realize that his commander was quite unable to breath under the intimate
probing of her prostate array.  She gasped for breath after he withdraw
his finger, shuddering violently, still squirting away.  

He immediately noticed two things which shocked him.  First, of course,
was the fact that her knot had slithered from its moist, warm sheath, to
rest throbbing against her belly.  Second, a trickle of blood now issued
from her lower urethra, along with the feeble drool of semen.  He almost
didn't notice it at first, given the shocking color of her penis, but
there was no question.  

Vas regarded him with half-lidded eyes, clearly devastated by her orgasms,
now winding down.  She was awash in her own semen.  "Old injury," she told
him softly, her command-tone firmly in evidence.  Once again, she was his
total superior.  "Don't worry about it; Bev says it'll take a couple of
months to heal completely."  

"Got it," Hicks said simply, openly petting her slippery, caramel body. 
He reached for the razor.

The sharp blade reflected in the wide, dark orbs of Vas' eyes.  Hicks took
a moment to center his breathing, steadying his hands, before he went to
work.  The blade collected both semen and hair as it slipped over the
furry lips of Vas vagina, leaving behind smooth, bare skin that was nearly
dead black in color, such was the density of pubic follicles on her
vaginal lips, turning gradually to peppery caramel at the insides of her
thighs.  Once again, Hicks treated Vas to a very intimate tongue bath of
her pubic area in the wake of the razor, thoroughly cleaning the
semen-sticky skin and enjoying its smooth texture.  Hicks had to shave
very carefully around the base of her enormous penis, using very short,
small strokes of the sharp blade; luckily, that was the area most wet with
semen, and the razor slid easily across her warm, musky skin.  Her belly
was perhaps easiest for Hicks to shave, but he teased her a little here,
using small strokes of the razor, and re-anointing the area several times
with semen still dripping from her penis.  Vas loved the feel of the razor
scraping over the pubic trail on her abdomen, seeing the shadow left by
the follicles.

Finally, Hicks attacked the pubic hair growing in the split of her
asscheeks.  For this task, Hicks straddled Vas' chest, kneeling over it
and facing away from her.  He then pulled her legs up and hooked his arms
over the backs of her thighs.  He ass was thus beautifully presented to
him, fully spread and ready to get shaved.  The hair grew on a tender
strip of pale brown skin right in the center of the split, forming a furry
trial all the way from the bottom of her vagina to the small of her back. 
A great deal of her semen had dripping into the split, leaving her musky
and *slimy* in this area.  Again, Hicks patiently began to slip the razor
over the hairy skin, this time thoroughly shaving the split of her ass. 
As he worked, he moved his hips back a bit, allowing Vas to nuzzle and
lick his testicles.  This she did with gentle, thorough attentiveness. 
She then slipped her tongue into the split of his ass and began to tongue
his tight anus.  She made soft noises of contentment.  It was just one
more thing for Hicks to deal with, especially since Vas had begun rimming
his asshole at just the moment that he'd begun shaving around her own
asshole.  Sweat dripped from Hicks brow as he scraped the black, kinky
hair away from her anus.  He felt her tongue penetrate his anus and snake
up into his rectum.  --*God*, her tongue was long!--  Hicks thought to
himself.  It felt like a wet, wriggling worm was trying to nest up there.

"Jesus!" he breathed, as Vas slipped her tongue in and out of his asshole.
 He was now working the blade up the small of her back.  Then, she was
bare.  With a triumphant little "YES!" Hicks threw the razor into the
corner and bent his head down to lick out the split of his commander's
ass, removing all traces of semen and sweat, and tonguing Vas' asshole
even as she tongue-fucked his.  They communed with each other's anuses for
long minutes, savoring the taste of each other's most intimate areas. 
Hick's was just about ready to fuck the shit out his commander.

Suddenly, he felt the wild, skillful tongue withdraw from his anus, and he
heard Vas' voice from somewhere between his legs.  "Darryl, my combadge is
in the left thigh pocket of my camo pants," she told him in a steely-cool
voice that indicated without a doubt the Major Juanita Vasquez, Security
Chief aboard the USS Enterprise, had just decided to re-enter the body of
the Cruzer sex-goddess he'd been sucking and shaving for the last hour or
so.  Or had she ever left?  "Go get it, and hold it up for me," she
ordered.  "I have to make a call."


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part g)

Hicks veritably jumped to get the combadge.  Although his superior's
command tone had reasserted itself with sudden vengeance, Hicks could also
tell that something had changed between them.  She addressed him more
intimately, even in her commands, less like a traditional commander, and
more like a pack leader.  He was just beginning to realize that there was
*nothing* he wouldn't do for her.   He came back with her combadge, and
held it up close to her face for her.  

"Vasquez to Enterprise. . ."

"Picard here," the Captain's voice came back almost immediately. 

"I'm reporting in as ordered, sir," Vas began without preamble.  Hicks
began to get a very weird feeling.  "Lieutenant Hicks has successfully
completed my orders."

There was a pause.  Finally, Captain Picard spoke.  "Was his performance.
. .   satisfactory?"

"Affirmative, sir.  He was outstanding."  Hicks could see that although
Vas' voice was steady, she was now trembling all over.

"Then I would say he's earned a reward, wouldn't you?"  Picard's voice was
rock-steady.

"Yes, sir," Vas replied, her voice now getting a bit breathy.

"Very well, Major.  I hereby order you to reward Lieutenant Hicks to the
best of your abilities.  Counselor Troi has extended your shore leave for
another 24 hours.  It that understood?"  

Vas looked like she'd just had a little orgasm.  "Yes, sir.  I understand
completely."

"Good.  Enterprise out."  

Vas looked at the silent communicator for a long moment, shivering.  She
looked at Hicks.  "I think I've just been ordered to give you the best
fuck of your life."

"Yes, ma'am," Hicks agreed evenly.  "That's what it sounded like to me
too."  He was smiling faintly.  

Vas narrowed her eyes at her second officer, but she found herself smiling
as well.  "Do you have any idea what he's just done?" she asked softly.

"Nope. . ."

Vas smiled an evil smile at Hicks.  "He took command of the situation,
which means, I'm off the hook."

"Off the hook, ma'am?"  Hicks was honestly mystified.

"Yeah," Vas repeated.  "Off the hook.  My whole worry about yielding too
much control to you when I allow you to fuck me just fucking *evaporated*.
 Whatever I do now, I'm under his orders, which is exactly the way it
should be."  Vas was now looking Hicks up and down with a decidedly hungry
look, admiring his naked body with frank desire.  "He just gave me the
chance to *really* show you exactly how grateful I am to you."  She smiled
sensually.  "Are you ready for some new orders?"
she asked Hicks, her voice thick with lust.

"I'm *totally* at your disposal, ma'am," Hicks volunteered.

Vas looked him right in the eye.  "Untie me. . ."

*****

Half an hour later, Hicks was enjoying himself more than he ever had in
his life.  

Above all, Vas was a professional.  Whether that meant killing efficiently
and without remorse or bringing a man to the brink of a really hard orgasm
and exploring that brink with him for hours didn't really matter.  Vas was
a Cruzer, and Cruzers lived for duty and honor.  She was now a tool of her
commanding officer, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, and she'd been turned loose
on Hicks.  As always, she marshaled her formidable skills to fulfill her
orders to the best of her abilities.   
 
"Easy, baby.  Don't tense it," cautioned Vas, gently caressing Hicks'
pale, velvet penis.  "Just relax. . .  "  The thick, beautiful spear was
slippery from the deep head Vas had been giving him, and it glistened in
the low lighting of the dingy bedroom.  "Just relax for me and I'll blow
your fucking mind."  Vas, in addition to being a perfect military machine,
also knew how to relax, how to "work" off the stresses of command, how to
keep herself and those around her relaxed and ready for anything. 
Simultaneously, Vas was also very experienced at feeding some of the more
peculiar hungers that her superb Cruzer body was prone to.  
 
Vas smiled to herself briefly.  It was a hell of a lifestyle.
 
Currently, she was engaged in what she liked to think of as "preventative
maintenance" on her Second Officer, Security,  Darryl Hicks.  Men got edgy
in they didn't get enough pussy, and thanks, to Captain Picard, Vas found
herself in the supremely arousing position of being able to supply Hicks
with just what he needed.  It was feeding time.
 
"No problem, I ain't going anywhere," Hicks murmured from his comfortably
reclined position on the damp, semen-stained bed.  "Besides, you'll blow
my mind anyway;  I believe that was an order."  
 
--Oh, are we a little wound up after all that teasing I gave you on the
ship, Mr. Stud?--  Vas thought to herself.  She'd *definitely* let Hicks
go too long without the kind of release she would now give him.  Vas could
sense the tension in his deceptively powerful body.  She went to work.
 
Sucking like there was no tomorrow, Vas began to devour Hicks's cock,
while gently caressing his flat, muscular belly.  Reaching to her right,
she reached into her duffel bag, which she'd retrieved from the dresser
after Hicks had released her from the binders.  Feeling inside, she closed
her hand on what she'd been looking for, something she always carried with
her when she went on shore leave cock-hunts.  It was a large synthi-plast
packet of honey, and it constituted one of Vas' favorite sex toys.  

She noted with satisfaction that Hicks was watching the scene intently,
through half-lidded eyes.  Opening her throat to the hot cock before her,
she allowed her full lips to slide down the entire, incredible length of
the taut weapon, until her nose brushed his belly.  She groaned softly in
approval, feeling the tension building in the thick, hard flesh.    

Hicks was endowed very much to Vas' liking; thick, masculine, smooth, and
*big*.  Slowly, she drew her lips back up the wet, throbbing shaft,
collecting both her spit and his preliminary spendings, until she was once
again holding the heavy, slippery rod in her small hand.  Holding it
aloft, she caressed the huge shaft several times from thick base to
swollen, blood-dark head.  Hicks's big cock glistened in the low, sensual
lighting.  Finally, Vas held the massive spear steady while she squeezed a
slow trail of honey onto its big, dripping head.  Vas licked her lips,
smiling at Hicks. "How you doing, baby?" she asked, her wide, dark eyes
intently watching the golden fluid slowly slide down the wet, male flesh.
 
Hicks was watching too.  "Couldn't be better," he responded in a low,
sensual voice.  Vas' eyes had the same animal intensity now that they did
when she was on duty.  He had no doubt that Major Juanita Vasquez operated
on one *really* weird mix of danger, sex, and duty, heightened even more
by the orders given to her by Captain Picard.  She smiled at his silence,
broken only by his deep, regular breaths, but in a moment the animal, the
predator, was back in those big, dark Cruzer eyes, and she was hungrily
sucking the sweetness from every thick inch of his huge cock.  
 
Vas' hands crawled slowly up Hicks's muscular body, sliding across the
warm, naked skin of his belly and chest, while her skillful mouth worked
voraciously over erect, sticky-sweet cockmeat.  Her nimble fingers found
his nipples, erect with desire, and began tugging gently on them,
scratching lightly at the raised buds.  She was moaning softly now,
tasting the seepage of his increased excitement, as her oh-so-talented
mouth slid up and down, up and down in a hot, sensual rhythm on the
beautiful, magnificent erection of Hicks's cock.  
 
Finally, Vas sensed that any further stimulation would end this scene on a
singularly creamy note.  Her subordinate was breathing deeply, and his
cock throbbed powerfully between her wide-stretched lips.  Very carefully,
she eased the thick, sweet length of Hicks's cock from the tight, wet
caress of her throat and mouth, gasping slightly as the dribbling,
engorged glans slid from between her moist, honey-coated lips.  Vas slid
her hands quickly from the man's chest, moving to hold the heavy, slick
organ gently with both of her small hands.  
 
"Now that is one hell of an erection, lover,"  Vas observed, looking into
her Hicks' eyes.  It was like an angry snake in her hands, still slightly
sticky from the honey.  
 
Hicks willed himself to relax, letting Vas do the work.  As she held up
his own cock for his inspection, Hicks noted how the dark, caramel skin of
her small hands contrasted with the fair skin of his prick.  --Good
visuals--  he thought to himself.  She was a really getting him going.  "I
really want you to know how much I've enjoyed serving under you, Major,"
he replied, surprised as the tightness of his voice.  "You are an
*incredible* commander, and I'm proud to take your orders."  

Vas leaned forward and crawled up Hicks' chest, rubbing her sweaty body on
his.  Bending her head down, she covered his mouth with hers and kissed
him deeply.  She flicked her tongue gently inside his mouth while she
looked deep into his green eyes.  Hicks was blown away by the intensity,
the intimacy of the moment.  Then, Vas gently moved her head to the side
of his, so that she could whisper in his ear.  

"I'm gonna feed you some cunt now, baby" Vas told him quietly, intimately.
 Her voice was a warm, erotic caress of Cruzer sensuality, and yet
entirely professional at the same time.  --How'd she do that?--   Hicks
wondered to himself.  It was pretty clear to him the Vas really got off on
the authority aspect of this.  He could smell her own arousal now, the
sweet tang of ripe, young cunt, almost animal in its appeal.  He wondered
idly if the woman would rape him if he said no.  Well, he'd seen this
woman's combat moves too many times not to know the answer to that
question.  "Can you let yourself relax nice and deep, and try to come
*really* hard and wet for me?  

"By all means," he replied.
 
Vas nodded smartly, smiling, as she straightened, kneeling before him. 
She lay his throbbing organ on his belly momentarily with almost reverent
gentleness.  She had an undeniably hot, unbelievably kinky body.    Big
tits, but really tight, riding high on her chest.  He could see the
flatter swell of her pecs underneath, she'd obviously done some work
there, but they only made her tits stand out that much further.  She had
huge, extremely dark nipples that protruded more than a little obscenely
from each of the twin honey-bronze globes.  She had muscular arms, not
masculine, but not entirely feminine either.  The woman definitely had
biceps, but you didn't really notice until she tensed them for you, until
you saw the veins under the creamy coffee skin.  Her body looked very
kinky, shaved bare as it was, with the smooth skin of her vulva and
underarms the color of dusky coal.  

Then, of course, their was her cock.  Bright, glistening red, mottled with
fine red and blue veins, flared like an inverted bowling pin at the
foreshaft, more slender at the gracefully-tapered midshaft.  He knew that
Cruzers had knots, like Terran dogs (and Vargr, for that matter), at the
bases of their cocks, but Hicks couldn't see Vas' yet.  Her penis was
semi-erect, a great, bloated worm of slippery, highly developed flesh
jutting away from the bare-shaved split of her vagina's apex, to curve in
a blood-heavy arc down to where the beveled wedge of her glans just
rested, *still* dripping clear fluid, on Hicks' belly.   It was oddly
appealing in an animal sort of way.  Or, maybe Hicks got off on the
masculinity of it.  
 
That stopped him for a moment.  It was true that Hicks , one of the
toughest security officers in the Fleet, did have an eye for a
good-looking male body.  He really was, in fact, completely homosexual. 
But in the last hour or two, Hicks had really come to understand what
Vasquez had been trying to tell him, and *show* him:  that sex was an
unbelievably intimate, private way to show your deepest respect and
admiration for someone.  He felt so privileged, to know that Vas thought
so highly of him that she would share herself so totally with him, to have
enough confidence in him that she would openly use her admittedly *weird*
sexual anatomy to give him as much pleasure as she knew how.  He suspected
that Vas knew how her body would appeal to him.  Hicks had to admit to
himself that there was a significant masculine attractiveness to Vasquez'
body.  It allowed him to reconcile both his hetero- and homoerotic
desires.  

Vas was now squeezing more honey into her hands.  She  grasped his swollen
cock firmly with sticky, dripping fingers, and began massaging the golden
fluid all over the hot cockmeat.  She licked her lips, and Hicks noted
that her breath was coming a little faster.  A big, clear drop of pre-cum
appeared at the tip of his now slippery cock, and Vas licked it off
immediately, savoring it along with the sweet residue clinging to his
shaft.  "Sweet," she murmured.  
 
He continued his lazy examination of her body.  A flat belly faintly
rippled with underlying muscle (he'd seen her do hundreds of sit-ups in a
row).  The sides of her ass were indented with muscle, and her olive skin
rippled as she moved her knees wider apart.  Finally, her cunt was shaved
absolutely bare of its black pubic fur (very  kinky for a Cruzer), the
dark pubic lips framing the ripe split of her pussy.    Truly, a bod built
for sex,  Hicks thought to himself.  
 
Vas climbed over Hicks's naked body, until her cunt was spread over his
throbbing, honey-slick cock.  "Time to rock, mi amigo," Vas observed, and
immediately set about feeding the huge, dripping piston into her tight,
hot cunt.  
 
Hicks savored the sweet torture, as Vas skillfully slowly eased her cunt
down the thick pole of fuckmeat.  She paused occasionally to reposition
her hips, but always she fed more and more of his cock up her slick, hot
cunt.  The look of concentration on her face was a mix of animal passion
and youthful eagerness.  "Shit, Hicks" she gasped.  "Did you grow another
inch in the last hour?"  They both laughed in between their panting
exertions.  Hicks was now deep inside her, and she worked her hips in a
gentle but increasing rhythm.
 
Vas' bronzed body became moist with a light sheen of sweat.  It added yet
another slightly animal scent to the heavy aroma of sex in the warm
bedroom.  She moved her body for Hicks's pleasure, fucking him in earnest
now.  Varying her strokes and rhythm, she sometimes took just a couple of
inches of slippery cock and worked in small, rapid fuck-stabs.  Then, she
would abruptly change tactics, sliding up and down the whole slick,
gleaming length of his huge cock, letting nearly a foot of hard male flesh
spread her open and fuck her deep.  Hicks could feel Vas' sensitive,
dripping cock dragging back and forth on his own penis.    She was
fantastically tight, like a virgin, and her vagina *gripped* his thrusting
penis, and actually seemed to massage it with a undulating vibration.  
 
"Ohhh, shit," Vas moaned aloud.  She leaned forward on Hicks' chest,
impaling herself over and over.  She kissed him, deeply, and moaned as she
felt Hicks's hands circle around her back.  Hicks felt her bunched
muscles, hard with sexual tension.  Vas was dripping all over his cock;
she was wildly excited now.  When she slid her trembling cunt up on his
cock, Hicks could see that he gleamed like a wet snake.  She rode him
expertly, spearing herself relentlessly with slippery meat, baring her
teeth like a primal beast.   Hicks cupped her slick, thrusting ass,
caressed her broadly muscled back, gently massaged her big tits, letting
her know how intense the fuck was.  

"You look like you're close, man," Vas observed in a tense voice.  There
was a warm, sticky spot on Hicks' stomach, where the dripping head of her
cock lay.  


CRUZING

Chapter 6:  Command Perogatives (part h)

"Affirmative," he replied immediately, in a like tone, and seconds later
they were both screaming like banshees, sharing lots of intimate
secretions between one another as they shared his long, virile orgasm. 
Vas collapsed atop Hicks's heaving chest, panting like a dog.  They could
both feel the slippery aftermath of Hicks's orgasm between their warm,
sweaty bodies, and Hicks could feel Vas' drenched cunt still tugging at
his still deeply impaled cock in small, rapid twitches.  

"Sweet Jesu Cristo!" Vas murmured into Hicks's chest, pausing to gently
lick his erect nipple.  She moved her hips slightly, bringing a sharp moan
from her fuck-partner.  "When's the last time you fed this thing?"  She
deliberately tensed her dilated cunt around its still-firm invader to
emphasize her point.  Hicks moaned again, more softly this time.
 
"Geordi. . ." he gasped, out of breath.  "Last night. . ."
 
"No shit," Vas responded back.  She bit gently on Hicks's erect nipple,
eliciting a pained smile.  "Good.  I can't keep you fed all by myself." 
Without scarcely a pause, she went on.  "You should visit the Chief
Engineer more often."  She was looking directly into his eyes, absolutely
serious.  "Or, just maybe, you and I could really show Reg Barclay a hell
of a good time."  Then she smiled wickedly at him.  "You wouldn't believe
how much watching two guys fuck can turn a woman on. It is *so* fucking
erotic. . ."  She wrapped her muscular arms around Hicks, and necked with
him for several minutes, just sharing the intimacy of the moment, feeling
his huge penis still beating deep in her vagina in the wet aftermath of
his orgasm.
 
"No shit," Hicks deadpanned, in response to her earlier observation about
gay sex.  "Is there anything that doesn't turn you on?"  
 
"Nothing that comes to mind," she mused.  "And speaking of come, I want to
ask you something, and if the answer's no, you just tell me, because I
would only want to do this if you wanted it too."  With that, Vas
reluctantly eased her dripping vagina off of Hicks pale, slippery cock. 
She straddled his chest, sitting on it with her legs to his either side. 
Carefully, she grasped her huge, semi-erect penis in her hand, and lifted
it up right in front of Hicks face.  It oozed clear, thin, musky- smelling
semen, which dripped off her penis at the thickest part of the foreshaft.

"I want you to look at my cock, and tell me if you can take me up your
ass."  

"Well," said Hicks, appraising her huge organ, "You're hung pretty
heavily, but you look like you'd give me a smooth ride."  His tongue
slipped out to make gentle, hesitant contact with the wet red tip, licking
slowly.  As Vas watched in rapt fascination, Hicks opened his mouth to her
beautiful penis and allowed the wedge-shaped glans to slip into his mouth.
 He slid his hands around behind her ass and pulled her towards him, so as
to be able to access her erection better with his mouth.  Just like that,
for the next fifteen minutes, Hicks lovingly, thoroughly, strongly
fellatiated the Cruzer, giving her the firm, pounding erection she would
need to penetrate him anally.  As he licked and sucked, he felt her
getting harder and harder, squirting more and more thin juice, working her
up to the task she had planned, preparing her to fuck.  

Finally, Vas could stand no more.  "FUCK!" she groaned, "You are *good* at
this!"  She pulled out from his mouth, and was shocked by the size of her
own penis.  The foreshaft was very nearly three inches thick, a phenomenal
diameter to ask anyone to take anally, and Vas doubted for a moment
whether Hicks could do it, despite the shape and slipperiness of her
unnatural endowment.  Still, Ro had taken her up the ass when she was
nearly this big, and Hicks definitely had more experience at anal
intercourse than she did.  Vas held up her shaft to Hicks' face, waving
the crimson, massively erect organ just in front of his nose.  The small
but rapid little spurts of semen were wetting the pillow behind his head. 
"You sure about this?" she asked for the last time.  "I don't want to hurt
you."

Hicks looked at Vas with dead seriousness.  "Just as much as you wanted to
give me your body, that's how much I want you to have mine."  With that,
he rolled to his side, gently reversing positions with Vas until he lay on
top of her.  He kissed her one last time, letting her taste her semen on
his lips, before moving off of her.  With deliberate intent, he lay down
on his stomach next to Vas, brought his knees up to his chest, and bent
forward, putting his shoulders to the moist sheets of the bed.  With his
ass thus pointed in the air and his face in the bed, Hicks could smell
several sexual aromas clinging to the wet material:  Vargr, Cruzer, human.
 Without another word, He sensed Vas slip behind him.  Then, he felt a
mouth lick at the back of his left thigh, felt it move smoothly circle
around and up in between his asscheeks, to gently lick at his anus. Hands
grasped him at either hip, pulling him gently back to meet the wet,
inquisitive tongue licking along the split of his ass.  A hand softly
grasped his down-hanging penis, and began to stroke it lovingly.  The
tongue left his anus, only to make contact with the shaft of his cock a
moment later.  The mouth smoothly followed the downhang of the shaft,
licking and kissing, always towards the glans, until he felt lips slide
over the blunt cap.  The mouth took him fully inside its warm, softly
sucking confines.  He heard a soft moan from behind, and he found himself
moaning softly as well.  

The mouth slipped up and back on his penis for several minutes, giving him
a thrilling blow job, really turning him on.  One hand rested on the small
on his back, caressing gently, while the other held up his cock for the
voracious mouth greedily at work on his cock.  Finally, as he began to
feel the approach of yet another orgasm, the mouth left him, but not
before leaving him rock hard, throbbing, and dripping with saliva.  The
hand encircled his cock again, slipping up and down the smooth, firm,
spit-moist shaft.  He felt movement on the bed, a body repositioning, and
then the warm, moist contact of his commanding officer's loins against his
upraised ass.  

"Easy, lover," a soft, mellow voice called from behind him.  Fingers were
now slipping in and out of his asshole, spreading something slippery
around the tight bud and up inside it.  She was lubricating him with her
own come!  Then, he felt something very hot and wet touch the left cheek
of his upraised ass.  It slid smoothly across the cheek of his ass,
leaving a wet smear on the pale skin in its wake, until it came to rest in
the split of his ass.  Hicks felt a warm fluid spurting along the split of
 his ass, and then felt the warm, firm presence of Vas' cock moving along
the split, spreading the fluid all around his anus.  Soon, the entire
split of his ass was quite slimy.  

Something nudged at Hicks' anus.  Something hot, with a rather slender
point.  It began dipping into his asshole, just a little at first, but
then deeper and more more insistence.  A larger, wedge-shaped bevel spread
him open much wider, and drew a moan from him.  After that, something else
began to spread him open with a vengeance, something wet and huge and
wonderful, something that vibrated and twitched.  Almost before he knew
it, Hicks felt Vas' massive foreshaft spread him open and, accompanied by
a brief flash of pain, slide deeply into his rectum; although it hadn't
felt like it, it was the biggest cock he'd ever taken up his ass.  His
anus eagerly slid up the midshaft taper of Vas' weirdly shaped penis,
finding its 2 1/2 inch diameter somewhat more comfortable that the 3 inch
thickness of the awesome foreshaft.  His ass felt deliciously, obscenely
full, and Hicks found himself loving every second of it.  

Then, Vas began to stroke her cock back and forth with absolute precision.
 --God, can this woman *fuck*--  Hicks though with devastated arousal. 
Her penis was amazingly smooth and slippery, befitting its thin, moist
membrane, and slipped in and out with sensual ease.  Hicks was left with
just an incredible sliding sensation, with the kinkiest amount of friction
provided by the sheer tightness of his dilated anus wrapped around Vas'
thick organ.  Every time she withdrew, her foreshaft would force his anus
to spread unbelievably.  She liked to withdraw it completely and rub it on
Hicks' asscheeks, spurting preliminary ejaculate all over his ass, before
forcing it back up his asshole.  By the time she had done this fifteen or
twenty times, Hicks was moaning openly, and wondering if he was going to
come without his cock having been touched.  But then, of course, as if
sensing his though even as he thought it, a hand slipped under his stomach
and between his legs, and began gently masturbating him.  At no point did
the intense assfuck he was getting ever relent.  

However, now Vas began to alter her pace and rhythm.  She ceased
withdrawing all the way.  Instead, keeping her penis sheathed in his ass,
Vas began smoothly stroking up and back in Hicks ass, taking regular,
six-inch thrusts that brought the flare of the foreshaft partially out of
his ass, letting him experience its full thickness before once again
burying it deep in his straining rectum.  The swell of the foreshaft did
an excellent job of massaging Hicks prostate, and he knew that orgasm was
not far off.  Vas seemed to know it too (maybe she smelled it
approaching?), and eased the pace of her stroking of Hicks' cock. 
Instead, she ran her fingers back and forth over the tip, spreading his
preliminary seepage over the firm head.  The fingers left him momentarily,
and Hicks heard Vas lick them clean, only to return them to his cock,
touching him intimately.  Hicks took a deep breath and tried to relax,
tried to delay the inevitable.

"Good, baby, hold it off," he suddenly heard Vas softly say from behind
him.  They were the first words she'd spoken since she'd first entered his
ass.  He noted that her voice was tight, and that her breath sounded like
it was coming faster.  "I want us to come together. . ."

Hicks didn't trust himself to reply, not sure his voice would work
properly.  Instead, he just nodded his head.  He felt Vas go deeper in his
ass, her massive foreshaft probing far up his rectum.  There was a little
pain as her huge prick followed the contours of his intestines, but she
slid inexorably deeper with every minute that passed.  Vas gave a soft
grunt, the first outward sign she'd given of her own sexual torment. 
Other, more forceful grunts followed, until she began to sound like some
bestial sex-creature; definitely *not* human.  

Orgasm was now burning in Hicks' cock.  Vas had stopped stroking it
altogether, sensing that any more stimulation than that she was already
giving him through fucking his ass would end it for him quickly.  Instead,
she just held his big, beautiful cock with a firm, steady hand, while she
continued to thoroughly ream his ass.  Not being able to resist, Hicks
looked back over his shoulder, and saw Vas more beautiful than he'd ever
seen her, or anyone for that matter.  Every inch of her glistened with
sweat, lending her coffee skin a dark, caramel tone.  She appeared as a
glorious in-between creature to Hicks' amazed eyes, sensually feminine yet
every inch the stud, the full swell of her tits in direct counterpoint to
the thick, sleek muscles dancing all over her sweaty frame.  Incredibly,
it appeared that Vas was using muscles in her neck, shoulders, and even
her arms to fuck him with.  Most incredible was the look on her face,
caught somewhere between torment at what his ass was doing to her cock,
and deep gratitude, even love, for him as a friend and a fellow officer. 
Her expression said as clear as writing that she respected and admired him
deeply, and was doing *everything* she could to show it to him.  

As the final straw, Vas partially withdrew her huge organ from Hicks'
asshole, and then angled it upwards.  She began thrusting gently with
supple, sensual flicks of her hips, stabbing him repeatedly in the
prostate.  It rapidly became humanly impossible to him to hold back his
orgasm any longer after seeing her kneeling behind his ass, thrusting so
expertly, reaming him so expertly.  He climaxed into her hand, moaning,
"Oh my god, oh my god. . ."

It was during his orgasm, which was violent in a way he'd never
experienced, that he felt Vas slide all the way into him asshole, and then
give an extra little flick of her hips against his ass.  He felt the hot,
thick swell of her knot enter his strained anus.  Immediately, he heard
Vas give a deep, shuddering moan, and he felt the knot begin to swell
inside just his ass; she had slid all twelve inches of her huge, unusual
cock up his ass, and was now steadily locking up with him, her penis
inextricably meshed with his rectum.  He felt Vas crouching over his back,
bending forwards, until her tits touched his shoulder blades, until she
was actually laying fully on her stomach, with his back taking her weight.
 He looked back along his side, and saw her feet *leave* the bed.   

Right there, laying fully on his back, her feet hanging from his sides,
her arms wrapped around his waist, her loins pressed into her asscheeks,
her cock *locked* a foot deep in his asshole, Juanita Vasquez gave a soft
but intense cry of supreme arousal, experienced dual, simultaneous orgasms
and *erupted* in stallion quantities deep inside him.

During the hour and twelve minutes it took Vas' knot to soften and shrink 
sufficiently for her to withdraw her cock from Hicks' asshole, the two
officers spoke quietly, intimately, and at length about the Enterprise,
testing each other for ideas on how to improve their already crack
security team, what each could do the improve his or her working relation
with each member of the team, who they thought were standouts, and who
they thought needed help.  Hicks never before felt as free to share ideas,
or just talk to, a superior officer.  Which, he guessed, was all part of
Vas' plan for the team.  He knew that in her, he'd met the best officer he
would ever serve under (literally!) in his life.

When they returned to the Enterprise, they were closer than brother and
sister.                                       
   
*****

To be continued. . .  

(Just a reminder:  I need some inspiration as to where to take this story
next.  E-mail!  I answer everything.)