4731J-3 Ch. 03

"I- yes, Ensign T'vor?" he awkwardly asked, turning to face her with his balls hanging out of his briefs, hardened genetalia pointing at the sky.

"One can never truly know about another person until one faces such challenges with them. When I spoke to you of your mother, I felt I could count on you based on your performance on the shuttle. I felt I could trust you to see beyond your personal loyalties. You showed me today that my trust was well warranted by being there for me as you said you would be."

Wesley nodded, proud that he'd made T'vor happy and relieved that 4731J-3 mightn't after all make him the laughing stock of Starfleet before he could even get accepted into the Academy. Still, a part of himself was unhappy about having so underhandedly unseated his mother from her command. For Wesley, the only real consolation in this was the fact that the ease in which the coup was accomplished was in itself proof that said coup had been necessary anyway.

"I know it must have been difficult for you," she said, "however, as much as this is the case, I am equally appreciative."

This said, T'vor's eyes fell to his exposed genetalia, a smile befitting a devil turning the corners of her mouth towards her pointed ears. She swayed forward, boldly taking Wesley's tool in her hand to gently pull him to a tree she could hold for balance while she performed a ballerina's stretch with the grace of an Olympic gymnast.

Wesley was having trouble allowing himself to believe that what he thought was happening was really happening. But it became harder to resist the conclusion that it really was as she pulled the crotch of her panties aside with an expectant look for him.

"Y-you mean I can...?"

"Yes, Mr. Crusher."

"Wow!"

Beverly sat in the peat with a studied expression directed between her feet. Beside her, Ogawa looked with a joyous expression directed between hers. But Crusher was busily rummaging through her memory for the conversation where she'd turned over command of the away team to T'vor. She did remember having a conversation with the ensign earlier that morning where she mentioned something about rations and the Mongos. Yes, and T'vor implied that Beverly wasn't doing very well... No, she'd only asked how she was doing. T'vor had offered something as well, but Beverly couldn't remember what it was, and she'd always wondered how big Jean Luc's cock was.

"Mmm..."

"Yes, Doctor?" Ogawa immediately gushed.

"Nothing."

"Okay." She joyously enthused, then inserted her middle finger up her own slit.

"Uhhhh... Oh, Doctor... you should do this... Mmm-mmm?"

Perhaps, Crusher thought, she could ask Wesley for some details on how the transfer of command had happened. Raising her head to look around, she found him busily fucking T'vor as she held a ballerina's pose for him, her eyes and slippery smile trained on Beverly.

Crusher's eyes widened and she quickly turned, looking to where Deanna sat on her outer thigh, hand propped in the black peat as she watched T'vor and Wesley with surprise and dismay written clearly in her features. But Troi's expression didn't really register as she began crawling towards her.

"Deanna, I'd like to ask you about something."

"Huh?"

Blocking the empath's view, Beverly more firmly repeated, "I'd like to ask you about something."

"Oh... what?"

"Did you see me transfer command to T'vor?"

"Of course I did."

" ... Oh," Beverly responded, disappointed, but not surprised.

"I watched... you... T'vor... Well, I mean I guess I... maybe I... I'm not sure what I saw and... what I didn't."

"Deanna, are you alright?"

"Mm-hm," the councillor replied with a smile. "And... I very much enjoyed what you did to me last evening."

At first, Beverly couldn't decipher what her colleague meant. Then her mind retrieved the memory of licking and sucking Deanna's thick, sweet syrup from her hot pussy until she'd messily squirted repeated orgasms. How she could have forgotten such a thing was beyond her, but the thought of it was enough to make her forget all about how she may or may not have transferred command.

"Uh, (ahem) I'm not sure how that happened, but-"

"What's that sound?" Troi asked, looking around Crusher.

"What? What sound?"

Also turning, Beverly could see that T'vor and Wesley had changed their position. Wesley was now lying flat on his back, no doubt thankful for the give the peat still offered at that altitude as T'vor rode him as though she were trying to shatter his pelvic girdle. It was obvious that he wasn't enjoying the sexual experience of having his body beaten mercilessly by the overindulgent Vulcan, but his undying hardon invited the ongoing punishment. At one point he tried to get up, actually tried to stop her, but T'vor roughly shoved him back down, holding him helpless by his wrists as his face began to show fear.

While it is generally well known that Vulcans have greater strength than humans, this fact is often overlooked where female Vulcans are concerned. Wesley himself had always taken for granted that this racial trait somehow didn't include Vulcan females, just as he'd always assumed that a man couldn't be sexually forced by a woman. His unheeded cries of pain and eventual screams served as a personal reminder that this type of gender bias was unfounded and unwise.

By the time T'vor left him sobbing, face down in the peat with his back and buttocks scratched to bloody ribbons, both Deanna and Beverly were forced to adjust their opinions of Vulcan females as well. Ogawa, distracted from her own fingering fantasies by Wesley's begging screams for help, was sufficiently moved by the spectacle to speak.

"Wow!"