Christian College Sex Comedy Ch. 31

"Who do we need?" Vic said in English (just making sure everyone knows that the Tribbles aren't suddenly translating for me).

"Kar'Thon," Vor' Dura states eagerly; "This matter is a racial imperative."

"Are you sure the young man is old enough?" The second woman inquired. "Jarrod went all obsessive last time a boy crossed our path. We almost sent the kid to college."

"That's what you get for marrying a Ferengi," Dura snidely remarked, and the rest laughed along with it; meanwhile, I'm going 'a what?'

Some infighting goes on until Victoria and 'I married a Ferengi' call for peace, then babble a little more. Then the name 'Zane Braxton' comes up and I'm not sure I'm happy or sad that only one of them replies in what was clearly elation and surprise – the sleazy one knows of me.

"Zane, I need to surgically remove some of the alien organisms," Victoria tells me.

"It is going to sting like hell," I mutter, to which Vor' Dura says something and sleazy girl laughs. I do not like where this is going at all. On the bright side, Victoria doesn't rip one off of me right away; she goes over to one of the dress bags and opens it up.

She's pulling out bondage gear – oops, my bad; she's getting ready to put on Klingon body armor. I have lost all preconceptions of what I was dealing with once Scarlett began stripping in front of me. She even gave me an appreciative smile and I was the one who was doing the appreciating! The little fuckers started going off. Remember, they don't like being moved and I was moving some around at the moment.

No, my legs and arms were perfectly still but my crotch was striking up a chorus – its Handel's Messiah. There was this 'still' moment where Victoria stopped opening her blouse and the three strangers regarding me through the webcam became mute; then the laughter began. Victoria resumed her stripping but she couldn't stop smiling and snickering slightly.

The three – the Klingon uber-cook or whatever she was and her two unknown accomplices – were laughing so hard they could barely communicate. It got better; when I was fully aroused and stopped moving around my pants, they didn't shut up and I was suddenly, desperately searching my mind to know how long that song was.

This was because Vic got down to her – Oh, fuck – this white thong – and calling it white is generous as it looks like someone stole an under-achieving spider's web and gently placed it over her crotch – and I know my hard-on was not going anywhere but into something before it went away.

Victoria was working her make-up on when two of the voices got themselves together enough to ask something. Vic looked up at the web-cam, over to me, then said a few sentences.

"So, which one of you likes your ankles placed behind your ears?" I politely asked in Thai.

"What was that, Brax' Zane?" Victoria asked.

"I'm curious if I can take your virginity with my tongue?" I continued in Thai.

"I cannot understand you," Victoria said again. "What are – ah –"

"I think we should engage the Federation citizen in the Galactic Basic," the second voice requested of the room. The third voice, the sleaze, said one more then in her native tongue, then the second voice, and Victoria jumped on her.

"I said, 'I think the native is getting restless'," sleazy girl grudgingly repeated. "Now, I think we should see if our plan 1.0 can be implemented."

"Before the scourges make themselves hoarse shrilling out the hellish noise or I lose patience, transport over there, and kill them myself," Dura growled playfully. I'm glad someone else was having fun. Victoria walked up and took a deep breath, which caused her well-disciplined, thirty-ish breasts to bounce tantalizingly close. Her look was desperately fearful yet almost childlike too.

"Kar'Thon, I desperately require your assistance before these creatures drive me mad," I tried to sound masculine yet pleading. On the computer screen, Dura quickly slammed her right fist to her right shoulder; I was later to learn that was a salute.

"This is no way for a Starfleet cadet to die," Victoria beamed at me, "even if I know I must someday slaughter you in battle." Whoa, I've never considered NASA as a career choice.

Maybe Klingon bondage gear/standard uniform could change my mind. The first person to tell me university life is boring I will punt to the Moon.

"I am T'Luminareth of the Vulcan Science Academy and Reserve member of the Starfleet Exploration Corps here," the second voice spoke up. I caught sight of a picture of her with this...troll? Or maybe a dwarf with the worst case of cauliflower ear ever. "I would like to assure you that every logical effort is being put forth on your behalf."

"Is that right, Tight Luminescence? Is it going to kill you to show a fellow sentient an ounce of compassion when you know he is about to suffer a fatal toxic shock from prolonged exposure to these vermin?" the third girl snarkily interjected into the conversation. "I'm Hical Cretak, Romulan freebooter and purveyor of ancient, exotic, and misunderstood goods."

"You are a thief, and since you aren't in some asteroid prison, you must be an above average one," I said to the Romulan. "I confess that I am a bit happier to see a member of the Vulcan Science Academy since – well – I'm suffering a splintered memory. Some things make perfect sense but large details are simply missing." I figured I could provide Victoria some good game.

She began rubbing my crotch and there was an effect alright – two in fact. The simple and expectant one was my trouser titan trying to unchain itself so it could get revenge on all of Victoria's orifices for taunting him so. My torturous tiny titmice began belting 'Let's get it on' by Marvin Gaye. I think as an infant, I had a mobile playing this song in my crib.

I started to really admire T'Luminareth's acting ability because she alone kept it together. Victoria made larger and larger circles over my crotch up to my beltline while Dura and Hical lost it hysterically.

"Pssst," I murmured to Victoria. She looked at me and I darted my eyes toward her makeup kit and clothes. I am getting more clothes on her – why?

Besides, I'd gotten a better look at her suit and it didn't have a butt-zipper that said 'Come Get Some,' but those pants rolled down like a candy wrapper and that 'body armor' has a back flap. I'd have to get Rio a set and I doubted Victoria would deny me her armorer's number. I was definitely looking into getting Mercy a matching Orion Slave Girl outfit – and here people don't think I make constructive use of my time.

I was sure Victoria/Kar'Thon was breaking speed records to get herself ready while the other ladies began talking to me about a whole universe that was brand new to me. Getting three different and very conflicting versions of the rise of the Human-dominated Federation of Planets was amusing.

Out of the blue, T'Luminareth decided she was going to create a team to rapidly move to my planet and take me back for further study. Vor' Dora countered that and Hical gleefully sought out salvage rights for the wreckage of the two expeditions.

"That might not be possible," I intervened. "Some of what you've told me has fused some memories together." They all fell silent.

"At Starfleet Academy, an Engineering Team and a select group of cadets," I continued to fantasize, "were directed to work on a...phased ionic drive." Ion drive was 'old' tech, or so Hical had let slip. "The drive failed catastrophically and we couldn't save the impulse drive – power was failing – we couldn't transport. The phased ionic drive detonated in the planet's atmosphere, creating a trans-harmonic disruption. I don't know if there were other survivors of our vessel. I saw another vessel either investigating our explosion or attempting a rescue but they burned up on their approach," I looked pained. "I don't think I could communicate with them and the only survivor I could locate was Kar'Thon."

"Only a combination of our two vessels' technology has been able to punch a hole through the disruption and I'm not sure how long this effect will last." I now sounded grim but determined. "We probably need three things: We need to know if there were any special modifications to the Klingon Scout vessel because I don't think it was a standard model to get so close to an experimental Federation vessel."

"Secondly, someone needs to pry out of Starfleet the precise specifications of that vessel, and that's definitely not me," I confessed. "Finally, we need to find a way to fuse those two designs together because if Tribbles are already being affected by an increased magnetic field, how much longer do we have before even the planet's magnetic field collapses totally and we fry (a SciFy movie plot, thank you)."

Once more, there was silence and I was afraid I'd stepped way beyond my bounds. Only when I took in the masked facial expressions of Kar'Thon did I realize I'd done well. I was hit with the realization I was a word and a whisper away from having sex with her, she was so pleased with me.

"I have friends at Starfleet Academy and they might be able to shed a light on what their cadets were up to," T'Luminareth stated serenely, but I could see a fire in her eyes. "I will research into every work published on Phased Ionic Drives, and we may be forced to work on a theory of what went wrong in case Starfleet is not forthcoming."

"Not that I admit that the Klingon Empire ever had any such vessel operating in the area –" Vor' Dura got out before Hical Cretak interrupted.

"You have an officer on the damn planet, you cowardly idiot," mocked Hical.

"I am a deserter," Kar'Thon declared. "I would say I was a 'scum of the Orion Colonies' but I found that you already claimed that title," she aimed at Hical.

"You must die, you traitorous dog," Dura jumped on the offered plum. Thon/Victoria wasn't a deserter but she was ready to take one for the team, so to speak. "The Klingon Empire cannot allow your stain on our honor to exist. Now that we finally have you pinned down, we are coming to end you once and for all, and if the Federation insists on harboring a traitor (we were theoretically in Federation space) then –"

"I owe you a death, Vor' Dura," Thon seethed; "your death."

"You may not enter Federation space," T'Luminareth insisted.

"Before you two go to war – again – why don't you let me go in," Hical mediated. "I'm a free trader and have been to both Federation and Klingon planets."

"You are a spy," Vor' Dura growled.

"Being a successful agent doesn't make you any less of spy for your Romulan Senate," T'Luminareth seemed almost furious.

"Unfounded rumors started by my –" Hical almost finished before the Tribbles screamed. Not as loud as they had for Ms. Black, but they now didn't like Thon around either – now that Victoria was a Klingon. Cordelia scares me; this time Hical had the little 'hiccup'.

"This is going to be fun," she chuckled, barely above a whisper.

"I will get these vermin no matter how much they hurt the frail human," Kar'Thon snarled, but Victoria's eyes blazed with fanatic amusement. I was mildly curious if she could even respond to her true name but decided not to test that. She pulled out a rather wicked looking knife that I had to double-take to make sure it was plastic.

The conversation went on around us as fictitious bits of data collided with innuendo, falsehoods, threats, and lies. This was roleplaying by some actors who took it as serious as any hardcore amateur could be. It was clear to me why Victoria chose to cut loose with these women – they could keep up and they could keep her secret

.

With some clever knife-work (she and Valarie should compare notes; how I start that conversation,I haven't yet figured out.) and the trash bags, Kar'Thon liberated me from the varmints and the fuzzy nightmares from me. Oh, they screamed and hollered and kept at it even after the trash bags were tied shut.

The only thing I felt bad about was the sinking suspicion that tens of thousands of lives could have been saved around the globe if the Time Lord Mafia had devoted the energy that had gone into creating these Tribbles into some frivolous pursuit like ending world hunger or reducing our dependence on foreign fuel.

My skin survived the 'party' with less abuse than I had feared. The 'team' decided that my sweat created a non-magnetic substance that weakened the bond that held them to me. The Federation and Klingons both claimed they would not kidnap me into some secret facility – and they all lied; my rectum was getting probed unless I saved myself!

My clothes – yes, the clothes Iona picked out for me – were made of sterner stuff and Kar'Thon delicately removed those Tribbles located there. Truthfully, she treated my clothes as gently as any five year old treats wrapping paper on a present on Christmas morn. Thankfully, I wasn't naked when the time came – I had on her 'Vulcan' skirt.

At 11:42, Hical Cretak had finally managed to wrangle enough help from both the Federation and Klingons and was about to pierce the atmosphere. If Hical betrayed the Klingons, Vor' Dura and Kar'Thon agreed that I had to die – yea, me! Apparently, my sweat was too valuable, though Dura convinced Thon to lick my chest to make sure, at which point both the Romulans and the Federation (in the name of science) insisted they observe a taste test as well.

Without a doubt, my life is a living hell as long as we don't talk about me fondling Thon's breasts while making those second and third journeys from well beneath my navel (she had to push my penis aside to get lower) all the way up to my lower lip. Seriously, working with Klingon scientists totally explains their Superpower Galactic status. Just looking at two of them makes me want to surrender so I can be processed and interrogated by one.

After some serious talking, once again in languages I couldn't understand (though I think I know the word cadet now in Klingon, Vulcan, and Romulan), the rest of her friends thanked me and wished me well before signing off. Victoria remained completely silent as she raced to clean up and change back to her 'secret identity' – that of Vice Chancellor Dr. Victoria Scarlett, mild-mannered crusader for Christian Women's Rights.

Right as the phone rang there was a violent pounding on the door. You don't have to be Wormtail to know that it was Sirius Black at the door and the gig is up. Victoria ran to the door and unlocked it while calling out, "Coming – coming – coming," until the door opened. Gabrielle's scowl caused the flowers to weep and the sun to dim.

Thankfully, she brought some witnesses so carnage was unlikely. Cordelia, Iona, and Pandora Jaspers had come as well, with fresh clothes, a bucket, some washcloths, two spray bottles, and a towel. Black's advance caused Victoria to back-pedal until her ass was against her desk. The TMI came in and shut the door behind them.

"That won't be necessary," Gabrielle stated with chilling menace. "I think an adult male can wash and dress himself; so should Zane. Everyone else – put down your stuff and exit the room." She held up a hand to stop Victoria as the others responded without protest and left.

"Scarlett," Gabrielle seethed softly, "put on your shoes first."

Oh, yeah, that was embarrassing. Gabrielle studied me as Victoria got her act together, then left me to my own devices. Since the substance they had coated me with (it had been in the showerhead that Iona had put me under) really worked and there were still 200 Tribbles unaccounted for, I took ten minutes to get totally clean.

I then put on the clothes the TMI had provided and if it had been dosed, then I would be totally justified with strangling them all and they knew it. My entry into Ms. Reveal's domain was the cause of renewed silence. Apparently, I can make girls scream out or be quiet; everything else is beyond my control. Victoria was back to her old self, casually sexy.

"Zane," Gabrielle spoke it as neither recognition nor a question – it just hung there.

"Ms. Black, thank you for your forbearance," I responded. She gave a curt nod and left.

"Dr. Scarlett, thank you for helping me through this," I smiled. "I will never waste your time in this manner again."

"Definitely not in this 'manner'," she smiled. The female Klingon officer vs. male Starfleet cadet confrontation would have to be handled by a different malfeasance, but it was definitely on. She passed into her office and the door slowly shut.

"Zane?" Iona spoke up.

"I'll figure out a way to make Rio understand," I told her as I went up and hugged her, much to Ms. Reveal's dismay. "Just walk softly around her for the next few days." She nodded.

"So, you are not coming after the Time Lords?" Pandora questioned.

"The hell you say," I smiled as we headed for the Dining Hall. "You guys aren't my friends; I'm coming for the rest of you. Now, you and Iona go," I demanded. "Cordelia and I need to chat."

With a worried backward glance, Iona left with Pandora. I stuck my tongue out at her and she giggled because now she was sure she was good.

"Are we good?" Cordelia was asking me yet another question she already knew the answer to.

"We are good, Cordelia," I grinned. "I know what you did."

"What was that, Zane Braxton?" Cordelia tested me.

"Part of it was the Court Jester syndrome," I regarded her smartly. "You just made me a fool in front of hundreds of girls who fear and hate me; they were able to take an active part in my ridicule, but this is going to rob them of the strength of that emotion to oppose us. It is hard to feel strong negative emotions about a baby Sasquatch," I added with a smile.

"I was aiming for either an Ewok with a growth spurt or a grumpy mute Wookie," she smiled back.

"I wanted to be one of the twelve Albanian fishermen that conquered China," I bantered, "but you didn't give me any fishhooks. Albanians are hairy; right?" The look in her eyes said she knew the Executioner series.

"The other part?" she teased. Most likely, she liked hearing the sound of my voice close up.

"With you, making assumptions is never a good thing," I treaded carefully. "My gut says that Victoria is safe but I want to make sure that what happened in her office this morning stays among a highly selected few and Victoria is never confronted with this."

"You know she is safe, for blackmail was never my plan; I'm sneakier than that, Zane; you are my weapon to hinder and help as needed. You are going to make an incredible genetic contributor," she put her arm in mine.

"You've been talking to Paige too much," I warned her.

"No; Paige has been listening to my – advice," she winked.

"I am still going to win," I asserted.

"I know you will," Cordelia hugged my arm tighter. "I'll make sure of it."

Since she planned to hand me a hollow victory I wouldn't accept, what she really was planning was for round three to be even more fun.

"You owe me," I stated. "Five days of your choice, no panties; you don't need to tell me what days." She nodded. She'll give me these little victories.

"Thank you, Zane," she whispered.

"For giving you the win, the challenge, and not making you out to be the villain?" I asked.

"You keep it fun, Zane. I think only you understand how lonely it is to be me," Cordelia looked up at me once more.

"That's bull crap," I chuckle. "I would never leave a friend behind." And we are friends, which is so weird yet makes total sense.