From the log of USS
For information about
the Captain and Officers of USS ARTEMIS
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Of course, the Middies probably could have found their way on their
without consulting the ship's computer. USS ARTEMIS (NCC-69069)
was an INTREPID-Class starship, like the famous VOYAGER, and they'd
studying (memorizing) her specs upon receiving their orders.
The ship had recently completed an extensive overhaul in the Utopia
Planitia Fleet Yards, receiving an engine upgrade and an extension of
her shuttle bay. The full details
The sickbay door opened and the trio entered. The Doctor went
straight to her desk, accessed the computer, and stared at the screen,
pursing her lips in concentration. Angie and Lyra stood at ease
and looked around, but saw nothing unexpected. It was a starship
sickbay, smaller than some,
bigger than others. There were three treatment bays with fully
adjustable beds and a fourth bay and bed enclosed in a large isolation
chamber. An examination/surgical table was centered under a bank
and medical monitors in the center of the room, and the sickbay's lab
was off to one side, behind
"Okay," the doctor said, "I see Olena's taken time out from playing
pirate to boot your shipboard files and sync your
Nothing's been flagged in your files by Academy Medical, so..."
She smiled at the Midshipmen. "Who wants to go first?"
Angie and Lyra exchanged a glance, but before they could answer—
"Thank you, Midshipman D'varas," Gwen said with a dimpled grin, walked
to the examining table, and patted its padded top. "Up you go,
and boots off."
"Boots off?" Lyra asked as she jumped up and sat on the table.
Starfleet medical technology didn't usually require a patient to
undress for a routine exam. In fact, even most surgical
repair of major trauma could be conducted with the patient in
removed her boots and socks and tossed them to Angie.
"I need to work on your feet," Gwen explained, then laughed at the
Middies' confused expressions. "When your new Department Head
gets around to something resembling an actual orientation briefing,
you'll learn about the first away mission the Captain has authorized
for the Expanse. Lie back," she ordered, and Lyra
did so. "You two are tentatively on the mission roster, by the
way," she continued, her
attention split between the table's control panel and the holo-display
appeared above the table. It depicted the outline of Lyra's body,
far from being a realistic image, it was an ever-changing 3D collage of
her various organ, skeleton, and muscle groups, cycling
through a range of bright colors, with graphical information and
symbols superimposed. "My last tour was on a science vessel that
did a survey of part of the Expanse, " Gwen added. "We'll
doing a followup visit to Scatara-IV, one of the planets, and the
locals will expect
us to go barefoot."
"Barefoot?" Angie asked.
"Among the Carmow," Gwen explained, "only nursing babies and warriors
armed for battle wear anything on their feet. Visitors are
expected to go barefoot as a sign of peace."
"Warrior culture?" Lyra asked.
"Yes," Gwen confirmed. "Pre-industrial. Some clans are
nomadic hunter-gathers and some are sedentary farmers. The Carmow
are feloids, somewhat similar to the K'zinti, only more cat-like than
lion. One theory holds they're an ancient K'zinti colony that
evolved in isolation, but the DNA evidence is inconclusive.
Anyway, we'll be doing a followup to the First Contact survey and Olena
wants to pump the elders for intelligence about recent pirate
activities. So... I'm going, Science is going, and Olena's going,
and she'll be taking you two along to hold her boots."
"But... our feet?" Angie asked.
"That little 'Welcome to ARTEMIS' holo-fun Olena arranged for you two
set on Scatara-IV," Gwen explained. "You want to run around
barefoot in that jungle without me toughening up your tootsies?"
Angie and Lyra exchanged another look, and grinned. "No, ma'am,"
they answered in unison.
the sickbay door opened and a Starfleet Lieutenant in
a teal-blue tunic with short, brown hair entered. The
brown spots of a Trill framed her very cute but scowling face.
"Okay, Gwen, let's get this last torture session over with." She
saw the midshipmen
and her expression brightened. "Oh, hello." She stepped
forward and shook Angie's hand. "Ezri Dax, Science Officer."
"Midshipman Angeronia Goodnight," Angie answered.
"Midshipman Lyra D'varas," Lyra said, still prostrate on the table.
Ezri walked over and shook Lyra's hand. "Welcome, but lie still,
or Gwen will bite our heads off for ruining her scans."
"Hah!" Gwen huffed. "I know you two are curious, so I'll prevent
having to hack Ezri's personnel file. Yes, she's joined."
Angie and Lyra were mildly shocked. It was universally known that
Trills sometimes joined their bodies and minds with a symbiotic
life-form native to their home world; but in the Federation, it was
impolite to casually
share personal information peculiar to another species, unless
and until they brought it up.
"You can take the girl out of Mars," Ezri chuckled, "but you can't
teach her manners."
Angie and Lyra smiled. Ezri was revealing that Gwen
was from Mars,
and Martian colonists were notoriously (boorishly) proud of the
hardships their ancestors had endured in the early decades of the
terraforming of Sol-4, and often cultivated an "uncultured" manner.
"Yes, that's right," Gwen sighed, addressing the Middies. "I'm
of those rude sand-rats from the Martian desert. Down," she
Lyra, then nodded at Angie.
Lyra hopped off the table and Angie took her place and began removing
her boots and socks.
"Up on bed one," Gwen told Lyra, and pointed to the left med bay.
She then focused on Ezri. "Well," she demanded. "Are you
for a formal invitation?"
Ezri grinned, walked to the area near the isolation chamber, and began
removing her uniform.
By this time, Angie was on her back on the table and her examination
Gwen noted the Middies' puzzled expressions as Ezri continued to
disrobe. "The dermal generation field has a peculiar side-effect
on joined Trills," she explained.
"It tickles like crazy on
full strength," Ezri sighed. "It makes my entire skin crawl, from
the inside out, and it's worse if
I'm wearing anything."
By this time, Ezri was down to her gray panties and tank-top, and those
were coming off, as well. Angie and Lyra tried not to stare, but
neither had ever seen a naked Trill.
"Your spots are very pretty,"
"Lyra!" Angie scolded her friend.
"That's okay," Ezri laughed. Now fully nude, she turned in a full
circle with her arms extended. The spots in question, ranging in
size from small, round freckles to thumb-size, irregular, glyph-like
from her scalp, down either side of face and neck, across her
shoulders and outside her breasts, then down either flank to the
tops of her feet. "I guess it's true what they say about Orions,"
Erzi said to Gwen. "They are all
Lyra grinned. She knew she was being teased.
Angie knew it too, of course, but that didn't prevent her from blushing
on Lyra's behalf.
Ezri turned and tapped the control panel of the isolation chamber and
its door cycled
opened. The bed inside was like those in the
med-bays, except the foot end had some sort of metal framework
attached. Ezri hopped up on the bed and placed her feet in
two padded slots on the frame.
Gwen walked towards the chamber. "She could have allowed me to do
this with a dozen or so hour-long sessions on low power," she said,
"Who has the time?" Ezri chuckled.
"So," Gwen continued, "instead, it's three ten-minute sessions on full power." She entered the
chamber and folded a metal bar
the top of the framework. There was a click, and Ezri's feet were now
trapped in what amounted to a pair of steel stocks. Gwen then
pulled a bag of milky plastic over Ezri's left hand, snugged it
around her wrist, pressed a tab, and the bag inflated like a
balloon. Next came a padded cuff attached to a thin cable, which
she snapped around Ezri's wrist. "She dug her nails into her
palms during the
first session," the doctor explained, "so I have to take
special precautions." She walked around the bed
and Ezri's right hand and wrist received similar treatment. Gwen
produced a padded rod and placed it between Ezri's teeth. "She
also bit her tongue," she explained, as she pulled an attached,
elastic strap over her patient's head and let it snap taut against the
nape of her neck. She
then stepped out of the chamber and began setting its controls.
The chamber's bed lowered to the floor, leaving Ezri's naked body
suspended in a null-gravity field. The cables held her
captive hands floating to
either side, at the level of her waist.
Gwen tapped another key, and an energy field began sparkling around the
Trill's imprisoned feet.
Ezri squealed through her
tongue-protector (bit-gag), her feet wiggled,
her toes curled, and she tugged on her wrist bonds.
Gwen tapped more keys and the sound of Ezri's distress abruptly
stopped, as if a speaker had been turned off. "Sonic dampening
field," Gwen explained. She turned her back and walked away from
the chamber as its door
Angie and Lyra stared in horror. The sides of the chamber were
translucent, but thanks to its interior lighting, they could clearly
blurry shape of Ezri's naked, struggling, thrashing
"You should have heard the racket she made during the first session,"
chuckled, "until I turned on the field." She noticed the
Midshipmen's expressions. "What? This nonsense?" She
laughed. "Don't get the wrong idea. Things aren't
usually this medieval in my
sickbay. But, if she'd come in for
low-intensity treatments when I told her to, this wouldn't be
necessary." She shook a warning finger at the still staring
Middies. "Let this be a lesson for you both. When Doctor
says report to sickbay... you report to sickbay!"
"Yes, ma'am," the Middies said, in unison.
What the Middies didn't know, of course, was that the Department Heads
had been engaged in an unofficial, tit-for-tat, practical joke
competition for the last several weeks. It was all very amiable
and confined to the Holodecks, for the most part—and what the
doctor was doing to Ezri was most
emphatically NOT a
practical joke. That would be unethical! Her back to the
Middies, Gwen smiled. She was pushing
complained to the XO
and had her
order the Science Officer to report to sickbay when she was supposed
to... but she hadn't, and Ezri didn't... and now the cute little Trill
had no choice but to either let
herself get tickle-tortured or let someone else from her department go
on the away mission.
"Bed two, Midshipman Goodnight," Gwen ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," Angie repeated, and hurried to the center bay.
Gwen went to Lyra's bed and produced another set of steel stocks.
them into slots at the foot of the bed-frame and lifted
the top bar.
Lyra smiled (nervously) and placed her ankles in the padded slots.
"Just relax," Gwen said as she locked the bar and selected a small
instrument from a
tray. "I've never used this procedure on an Orion, but you
shouldn't feel anything other than a slight tingling sensation."
She touched the bulbous end of the device to Lyra's left foot.
"Eep!" Lyra squealed and flinched, then composed herself.
"Sorry. That wasn't bad."
"Good girl," Gwen chuckled, and began tapping the keys of a small
pad. A panel opened in the base of the bed and a compact field
generator rose into view, rotated ninety degrees, and positioned itself
near Lyra's feet. "Brace yourself." She tapped a final key.
"Ahh—that's n-not bad,
Lyra gasped. Her mouth twitched as she struggled not to laugh.
"Lie back and relax." Gwen gave her patient's shoulder a
reassuring pat and helped her recline. "Do you want a sedative?"
"No, ma'am," Lyra answered.
Gwen gave her another pat, then turned to the
center bed to find Angie staring at her with horrified dread.
"Lighten up, Midshipman," Gwen chuckled as she attached a third set of
stocks to Angie's bed.
"This procedure is rarely fatal."
Angie forced what she hoped was a brave smile, and placed her ankles in
Gwen chuckled as she closed the top bar. "Honestly, I don't see
what you're so—"
"She's t-ticklish!" Lyra blurted. The Orion was biting her lower
and sweat was glistening on her forehead.
"Shuddup!" Angie huffed, blushing bright crimson.
"I see," Gwen purred, and held the instrument she'd used to test Lyra's
feet near Angie's left foot.
Angie swallowed, composed herself, then nodded. "Okay, I'm
ready. Turn it on."
"It is on," Gwen responded.
"I... I don't feel anything," Angie said, blinking in surprise.
"Human's seldom do," Gwen smiled.
"Lucky you," Lyra muttered. Her hands were balled in tight fists,
and her smile had a slight twitch.
Angie lay back as Gwen deployed and activated another field
generator. Now, energy pulsed against both pair of wrinkled
soles, the green and the pink.
"One hour," Gwen announced, as she walked towards her office.
"You okay, Tree Frog?" Angie whispered to Lyra.
"J-just peachy, Kipper," Lyra whispered back. She knew her
friend's concern was genuine, and she appreciated it. Lyra tried
for a reassuring smile, but feared it was probably coming across as a
"She's fine!" Gwen called from her office. "I'm monitoring all
your stats." The stats in question were indeed being displayed on
a nearby monitor, but the main holo-projector in front of her desk
(with the polarized privacy feature engaged, of course) was painting
of Ezri's wiggling feet, squirming, naked body, and grimacing,
giggling, gagged face. Okay,
it's a dirty trick, she mused, but
let me give you a sedative.
and the holo-cameras captured every detail. I think you like being tickled.
Gwen activated the sonic suppression field around her desk, and
spoke into a small microphone. "Your readings are excellent,
Ezri," she said, knowing her words were echoing through the isolation
chamber, "but I've decided to extend this final session an two extra
minutes, for maximum effectiveness."
It wasn't at all clear whether or not Ezri had heard. Gwen
knew the intense sensations rippling through the helpless Trill's
delicious body were very distracting.
A TROPICAL ARCHIPELAGO IN THE Sea of
AN ISOLATED MASSAGE
PAVILION FAR FROM THE MAIN RESORT
in contentment. She was naked,
lying on her stomach with her head cradled in her folded arms, and she
couldn't be more
relaxed. One of Risa's spectacular tropical sunsets was painting
the sky and a gentle ocean breeze was caressing her oiled skin and
the gossamer-thin drapes of the silk pavilion. The main resort,
on the far side of the lagoon, was already in shadow, and its multitude
of fairy lights were twinkling, decorating and illuminating the entire
complex. She could see the early
diners in the ocean-side restaurants enjoying their meals, but only
as tiny, distant figures.
Her Risan masseuse (a computer-generated holo-character) was
native to this archipelago. She was tall and slender, with
full breasts and the well-defined muscles of an athlete. Her skin
was coffee-brown, her lustrous hair long and black, and her
high-cheeked, doe-eyed features were exquisite. She was clothed
(just barely) in a whisper-thin loincloth and bandeau of iridescent
silk that shone with all the colors of the rainbow. Her long,
strong fingers, drenched with perfumed oil, slid over Gwen's back.
"Is Mistress happy?" the masseuse purred.
"Very happy," Gwen sighed. Her body floated, suspended in the
near null-gravity of the cloud table's repulsion field and barely
touching its smooth, white silk sheets.
"Gooood," the masseuse cooed. "When Yulani's Mistress is happy,
Yulani is happy."
Gwen gasped as Yulani applied deep pressure to her
shoulder muscles. "Oooooh... nice... Thank you, Yulani."
"Mistress is most welcome." The massage continued. "Does
Mistress desire Yulani's help?"
Gwen frowned. "I don't understand, Yulani. Help with
A pair of gloved hands were pulling Gwen's hands behind her back and
another pair was shoving something soft and round into her
mouth! A wide band tightened around her wrists,
pinning them together—Vrrrip!—and
it was already too late to prevent her capture.
"Thank you, no, Yulani," a voice—Olena's
voice—answered. "I want to do this myself."
"I could use a little help with her hair," another voice said, and this
"Of course, Mistress," Yulani sighed. "Yulani is always ready to
screamed. Yulani gathered and held her hair as Ezri—Gwen still
tell exactly what was
happening, but she guessed it was
Ezri—reinforced her gag with some form of black, self-adhesive tape,
after tight turn until Gwen's lower face was mummified from just below
nostrils to her dimpled chin.
Meanwhile, zip-bands were tightening around her thumbs—Vrrrip!—crushing her elbows
her knees—Vrrrip!—and her
Gwen's hair was released and her captors and the traitorous Yulani
stepped back. Gwen rolled over onto her back, but was careful not
to roll off the cloud table. The table's field adjusted,
distributing its gravity nullifying effect so her weight didn't
press on her bound arms. She bucked and struggled and fought
her bonds, but her efforts were to no avail. Finally, she
shook the hair from her face and fixed her captors with a glowering stare.
Olena and Ezri grinned back. Both were dressed in reef suits, the
full-length, skintight, leotard-like wetsuits guests at the resort used
the island waters. These particular suits were mottled in shades
of aqua, blue, and gray. It was marine camouflage, and
Gwen knew such suits were used for
spearfishing—and apparently, for swimming across the lagoon to abduct
other guests! The outfits included gloves, booties, and hoods,
leaving only the wearers'
"M'rrf!" Gwen continued to fight her bonds.
"She seems upset," Ezri remarked, an obvious understatement.
"I thought you said she'd be
expecting something like this."
Olena removed her hood, shaking her head to free her short, blond
hair. "I think your presence is
Ezri giggled and focused on Gwen's gagged, glaring face. "Don't
worry, Doctor," she said, pulling off her own hood. "I'll only be
staying through dinner. Olena was kind enough to invite me.
She knew I'd enjoy the floorshow."
"Mrfh?" Gwen was confused. The 'floorshow'?
"The floorshow," Olena confirmed, her lips curled in an evil
smile. "That would be you," she told Gwen, then turned her
back and started peeling off her gloves. "Let's get changed," she
suggested, "then, we can make Gwen more comfortable."
Ezri smiled and began removing her gloves. "Make her 'more
comfortable'?" she purred, nodding at the still furiously struggling
prisoner. "Did your girlfriend give you a copy of My Big Book of Clichés last
Olena smiled, but otherwise ignored the question. She turned to
Yulani. "The pavilion is equipped as I asked?"
Yulani smiled, crossed her hands over her breasts, and bowed.
"Yes, Mistress." She bowed again. "It is Yulani's pleasure
to serve Mistress."
Gwen shifted her glare to the Risan maiden. "Hrmpfh!" she snorted
through her gag.
Yulani's angelic face turned slightly sinister. "One Mistress
at a time, of course."
Olena smiled. "You may change."
Yulani bowed a third time. "Yes, Mistress." She backed
several steps, then turned, passed through the drapes, and was gone.
Gwen shifted her gaze back to Olena and Ezri. Both had stripped
off their reef-suits and were donning two-piece bathing suits and
guest attire. Olena's skimpy, revealing (and sexy) outfit was a dazzling
really set off her tan skin, and Ezri's was a shimmering, pale blue
that matched her eyes. The contrast between Olena's athletic form
and Ezri's delightfully girlish, pale and spot-patterned
body was delicious, or—might have
The naked, helpless captive lay back on the cloud bed's cushioning
field. This was not the
in the frame and stretched them across Gwen's already
helpless body. Their captive was now seated with her legs
straps dimpling her skin above and below her breasts and across her
waist and thighs. Her bound ankles were locked in a set of padded
her toes splayed and individually tied to a semicircular steel arch by
strands of nearly transparent cord. She could barely squirm, and
she couldn't move her feet at all. Adding overkill to total
helplessness, Olena was in the process of stretching a final strap
across Gwen's throat and
pulling it taut.
"Is that really necessary?" Ezri inquired, but a coy smile more or
less nullified her objection.
"No, it isn't," Olena admitted, "but she looks so deliciously helpless
like this, doesn't she?"
"She does," Ezri agreed, "helpless, and vulnerable."
The Ruthless Kidnappers sauntered
A Risan male entered the pavilion, carrying a large
tray. He was wearing only a tiny loincloth and was nearly two
meters tall. He was quite muscular,
plates and platters on the table, together
with a chilled carafe and two stemmed crystal glasses. "The
course will be served in a quarter hour." He smiled at
Ezri. "I am called Butai," he said. "After dessert, I will
be taking a swim at Turquoise
Cove. It is quite beautiful as the moons rise. I strongly
it as an after dinner... diversion." Still smiling at Ezri, he
backed two steps, turned, and left.
Olena smiled as she poured wine into the glasses. "Butai's a big
"Oh, I certainly hope so," Ezri chuckled. The friends clinked
Gwen sighed through her gag and rolled her eyes in disgust.
"She's very pretty like that," Ezri asked Olena, "don't you think?"
Olena sampled a canape before answering. "Who," she said,
finally, "the Martian?"
"Yes," Ezri giggled, "the Martian."
They both watched Gwen continue to squirm and fight the straps.
"I like her tits, especially," Olena said, eating a small stuffed
crustacean of some kind. "Yum, have you tried these?"
"No." Ezri selected one of the creatures and took a delicate
bite. "Delicious." She smiled at her dinner companion as
they both chewed and swallowed. "You realize that once we enter
the Expanse, there will be no time for anything this... involved?"
"I know," Olena answered, "that's why I wanted to make this final
evening before we get underway... memorable." She took a sip of
wine. "I appreciate
Ezri smiled at Gwen. "Always glad to assist a shipmate...
especially when it lets me slake my thirst for well-deserved revenge on
Gwen huffed through her gag and turned her head away in disdain. Revenge, really! It had only
a little innocent medical tickle torture... to make up for that time, a
Holodeck Two, when Ezri and B'Elanna snuck in and pelted her with
snowballs just as she was
getting out of the hot tub in that Alpine Resort program.
"We should have invited the Middies," Ezri suggested, then chuckled,
softly. "You should
have seen them eying me in sickbay, especially
after my 'treatment', when I was all sweaty and panting."
"Unfortunately," Olena said, "our two newest shipmates are dining with
the Captain and Chief Engineer."
"Poor kids," Ezri laughed. "They don't know what they're missing."
Just then, the wind gusted, the drapes fluttered, and Yulani reentered
Gwen's eyes popped wide and Olena nearly choked on her wine.
Ezri simply smiled. "Oh, my," she purred.
Yulani had changed costume, as instructed. She was now wearing a
complex harness of thin, black, leather straps. The
tight, glistening bands dimpled her brown skin across her breasts,
shoulders, waist, and through her thighs, and included a minuscule
g-string panel that covered
(just barely) her crotch. Her legs were sheathed in shiny,
thigh-boots with ten-centimeter heels, and tight, black leather
opera gloves covered her hands and most of her arms.
Her hair was combed back in a
tight ponytail, a spiked collar was around her throat, and she was
cracking a black leather whip.
Yulani was HOT... in an—I want my mommy!—Where
"Yep, My Big Book of Clichés,
Kinky Edition," Ezri chuckled, and refilled her wine glass.
Olena held her glass out for a refill as well, but her eyes never left
The Risan dominatrix cracked her whip, again, then tossed it
away. "I hear you've been a very... bad... girl, Doctor," she
said, and pulled a thin metal wand from her right boot top.
you, by chance, be familiar with the Klingon Pain Stick?"
Gwen was still staring in naked horror—naked everything, actually.
"I asked you a question, Doctor," Yulani growled. "Klingon Pain
Sticks? You've heard of them?"
Gwen nodded, frantically.
Yulani's smile turned truly evil and she extended the tip of the wand
towards Gwen's helpless, totally immobilized, left foot. "Well..."
Gwen clinched her eyes tightly closed and squealed through her gag.
"This isn't one of them," Yulani said, and tapped the wand to Gwen's
The captive's eyes popped wide, and she squealed in distress.
"Tickle wand?" Ezri asked.
"Tickle wand," Olena confirmed, and they clinked glasses.
Meanwhile, Yulani had begun running the wand over Gwen's sole,
gently caressing every wrinkle and crease. Tendrils of blue
energy crackled and snapped, stimulating every neuron within roughly a
centimeter of the wand's tip. She then used the wand to pluck the
Gwen's toes, one by one, as if she was strumming a harp, and the energy
traveled down each string to envelop the toe that was its prisoner.
Gwen squirmed and struggled, mewling through her gag and grimacing in
distress. Obviously, even though her soles had been hardened
like the others assigned to the Scatara-IV away mission, the wand was
"The fun won't be limited to just her feet," of course, Olena
explained, for Ezri's benefit.
"No?" Ezri responded, then selected a small square of toast spread with
some sort of green pesto and popped it in her mouth.
"No," Olena confirmed. "The floorshow will be a series of two or
minute sessions, separated by brief rest periods, of course."
"Of course," Ezri agreed.
"And Yulani will be exploring every part of Gwen's body with her
wands," Olena continued. "And while we enjoy dessert, she'll
the cloud table's repulsion field to resonate with the wands' output
frequencies and will insert a special
wand between Gwen's thighs. She'll then work her over
again, from head to toe, but this time, instead of being tickled..."
"Yes?" Ezri demanded.
Olena selected another hors d'oeuvre
before answering. "Let's
just say she'll be cumming like a Martian dune rat in heat the entire
time. And after you leave for your midnight swim with—Butai
was his name?—I have additional entertainment planned
for the good doctor."
"Poor Gwen," Ezri chuckled. "Being your girlfriend can be rough."
Olena smiled, and watched the girlfriend in question shiver and squirm
continued to tickle her helpless feet. The main result of Gwen's
desperate efforts was the very entertaining,
(as were her
own). "She loves it," Olena muttered.
"And she loves you," Ezri purred.
Olena blushed, slightly, and covered her show of "weakness" by
refilling their glasses. "So she says... except right after I
torture her, like this."
Ezri smiled and sipped her wine. Ezri knew she should be
scandalized, but Dax had watched and participated
in many such playful scenes in the course of the long lives of his
hosts, both male and female. It was impossible to tell if the
relationship between Olena and Gwen would last, but she wished the
Meanwhile, Yulani had reached into her left boot top and produced a
second wand. "Enough foreplay," she purred, and tapped the tips
of the two wands together. Blue sparks snapped as they
touched. "They're set on slightly different, very carefully
chosen frequencies," she explained, for Gwen's horrified benefit.
"Used in concert, the harmonic interactions are.. unendurable."
"Unendurable... unless you happen to be bound, gagged, and strapped
down, of course," Olena whispered in an aside to Ezri.
"Of course," Ezri agreed.
Gwen squirmed and whined through her gag as the wands slowly approached
her helpless feet.
"Be honest," Olena asked her dining companion. "You don't think
I'm going too far
with his program, do you?"
"Waaaaay over the top," Ezri chuckled, sampling another of the
"Yes," Olena agreed, "you're undoubtedly correct." She selected
the pesto-spread toast squares and settled in to watch the rest of
this, the first session of Gwen's ordeal.