Experimental Discipline

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Tilly has a self control problem. Burnham has a solution.
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Even in the dead of night the USS Discovery boasted a cacophonous backdrop: the constant low thrumming of the engines, the more sporadic but louder bump and hum of the turbolifts moving throughout the shift, the periodic gasping hisses of air as the ship's environmental systems worked to maintain its equilibrium. Even in the midst of all that noise Cadet Sylvia Tilly was certain that every single (dirty, nasty) sound she made was echoing throughout the ship, but that certainty didn't stop her furtive ministrations. A trembling hand reached up to grab one of her painfully hard nipples and twisted, causing the beautiful redhead to let out a soft moan, the sound waves absorbed by the fabric of her soiled panties currently shoved into her mouth. Meanwhile her other hand remained busy under the thin covering of her Starfleet issued bed sheet, with three fingers plunging rapidly into and out of her soaking wet cunt.

The squishing of her pussy thundered in her ears as she fixed her gaze on the prone form of her roommate Michael Burnham. No movement, not even the slightest stirring, she noted. That was...good. Yes. Good. It would be a disaster if the enigmatic disgraced officer awoke to see this. An utter humiliation if the beautiful and tempestuous Vulcan-raised human were to notice what a debased little slut her new protege was. Burnham wouldn't even realize that it was her fault, that her constant proximity and strident approach to training was what led her secretly submissive junior officer to masturbate in a frenzy every night. Yes indeed, if Burnham woke up and saw this debauched display she might be angry. Angry, in that Vulcan way that translated into cold steely gazes and constrained but sharp rebukes. She might even be angry enough to lash out, to punish the slut of a cadet who had disturbed her slumber. It might be enough to warrant a flurry of blows raining down on the pale expanse of her large ass. It might not even end there though, it might go farther: more blows landing on her large breasts, on her exposed dripping pussy. Oh it would be horrible if Burnham saw fit to put Tilly in her place by pulling her hair and slapping her around, or by spitting on her and dispassionately describing what a useless fucktoy she was.

One hand migrating from breast to breast mauling each in turn, her other hand frantically pounding into her hungry snatch, Tilly's climax overwhelmed her and she buried her head in her pillow as she screamed out a muffled scream. Her gaze having left her roommate, Tilly didn't notice the older officer's eyes flutter open and stare at her as she concluded her intense orgasm.

***

Every time Tilly jogged through the halls of the Discovery she felt self conscious. The Starfleet issued workout top was designed to keep her bust contained, but there were limits to even the Federation's engineering and so she was acutely aware of her boobs jiggling around as she passed groups of gawking crewmen. Of course she was equally aware of Michael Burnham, maintaining a steady pace just a couple meters in front of her. She looked dangerous, bounding along the crowded corridor without ever breaking her forward gaze. It was as if she knew that she didn't need to be aware of the passing throngs, that she was a greater threat to anything in her path than they were to her. It's no wonder I'm not making any progress, Tilly thought as she subconsciously gave her butt a little extra wiggle while passing a particularly slack jawed lieutenant. I'm surrounded by distractions. Her eyes were glued to Michaels arms, watching their sinewed movement as they swung back and forth. Those would feel so good wrapped around me. She shook that thought aside and did her best to recenter herself on the grueling workout. For the next long minutes her entire mind was locked on the burning and strain of her muscles as she pushed herself to keep up with the lovely pacer in front of her.

She was so dialed into her activity that she almost barreled right through Burnham when the science specialist pulled to an abrupt stop in front of the turbolift doors. Tilly stood there gasping for breath and grabbed her upper thighs as she tried to compose herself while her mentor cast an appraising eye over her that Tilly could feel. After a few drawn out moments Burnham spoke, her voice cutting through the surrounding din without being raised. "You're still performing below expectations, Cadet."

Her breath still labored, Tilly struggled to formulate a response. "I'm sorry Michael. It's just that I didn't sleep well last night, and Lieutenant Hicks was giving me one of his looks and then I got distracted by your arms and-"

"Enough." Burnham's single word interruption stopped Tilly cold. It's command was so absolute Tilly could feel her nipples begin to harden in response. "Your excuses aside, the fact remains that you are not applying yourself fully. I have some theories as to why." Michael's eyes widened imperceptibly, but something in their depths caused Tilly's heart to race even faster. "Your first training instructor at the academy was Lilah Hodge. I reached out to Lieutenant Hodge when I first agreed to help you, and she finally got back to me two days ago. She had some...fascinating insights to share."

Michael's volume dropped at those last words, so that Tilly had to strain to hear it, and when she understood she almost collapsed on the spot. Lilah had spoken to Michael, and had offered her insights. Images flashed across the surface of her mind: Tilly bent over Lilah's lap while the young lieutenant disciplined her with a hair brush. Her tongue being forced into the folds of Lilah's sweet pussy to 'thank her' for all her help. Tilly bound spread eagle on Lilah's bed, while her supervisor idly toyed with and tortured her for hours.

Tilly was so lost in panicked thought that she didn't notice Burnham stepping closer, close enough that she was able to whisper into the cadet's ear. "She explained to me what lies at the root of your problems, and after observing you stimulating yourself at night I have to agree." Michael's breath was hot in her ear. "Fortunately she also had some helpful suggestions for how to deal with it. It seems you'll require an...alternative approach to training and discipline." Tilly felt Michaels fingers brush across her hip bone, light enough that she could almost pass it off as accidental. Even that light touch threatened to overwhelm her. "You'll meet me in the special science lab at 2100 hours." Without waiting for a reply Burnham turned on a dime and strode away, leaving her young friend still gasping away in stunned silence.

***

As Tilly approached the door of the Special Science Lab, her entire being was wracked with doubt and arousal. She had spent the entire day veering wildly between the two, lost in a haze of conflicting thoughts that had gotten her reprimanded by Stametz twice. All that thinking had gotten her nowhere but here: in front of the door to the Special Science Lab, which had taken on full capital importance in her mind. She knew that the next few moments would either be the fulfillment of years of fantasies or the end of her life as she knew it, because if this went bad that would be it for her in Starfleet.

Six times today she had resolved that it just wasn't worth it, and vowed to go to Commander Sarou to request a change of rooms. Three times her vivid lustful fantasies had driven her to excuse herself from engineering and race to her room to achieve quick desperate orgasms. Each time she found herself hoping that Burnham would be there waiting for her. And so here she was, because at the end of the day she had to know. Cadet Sylvia Tilly took one final deep breath, tried in vain to steady her quivering nerves and stepped through the automated door and into the abyss.

On the other side of the abyss lay the special science lab, looking exactly as it always did. This drew Tilly up short. In her head she'd conjured elaborate fantasies of sinister sex dungeons populated by the sorts of furniture she'd learned about over years of optimistic research. But there were no St. Andrew's crosses or pillories in here, not even in the holding cell where they had kept the Tardigrade, as far as she could tell. It was the same admittedly creepy room it had always been, with the Captain's collection of weapons displayed along the walls and science workstations scattered throughout the room. And there Michael Burnham was, working intently on a station near the back corner of the room. Tilly waited at the entrance to the lab for what felt like a small eternity and then took a hesitant step forward.

"Be still, Cadet." Burnham's voice was quiet and even toned but it froze Tilly in her tracks.

"Sorry Michael I didn't-"

"Be silent, Cadet." Tilly snapped her mouth shut. "It will take me five minutes to complete this analysis. In the meantime I want you to stay right where you are, absolutely still and absolutely silent."

Tilly assumed a proper Starfleet posture and did her best to comply with this order, but that whole military parade stuff had never been her strong suit. It had in fact almost been her undoing during her early days at the Academy. The Petty Officer who had overseen her class' drill instruction had hated Tilly and her inability to snap a clean salute. He had tried his hardest to wash her out, but her engineering brilliance hadn't gone unnoticed and she was passed through training over his biting complaints.

Then Lilah Hodge had..taken her under her wing and the rest of her time at the Academy had been a blur of the most intense intellectual work she'd ever done and the most intense sex she'd ever had. Even thinking back to that time had an effect on Tilly and she shifted in place as she felt her already primed body grow more aroused. She winced internally and shot a glance at Michael as she resumed her perfect posture, but Burnham was still absorbed in her work. That cycle repeated three more times before Michael finally powered down her console and approached, stalking towards Tilly in a way that reminded her of certain nature documentaries she'd seen. Burnham stopped several meters in front of Tilly and slowly looked her up and down. Tilly felt as though those glimmering dark brown eyes were going to consume her in their depths. She swallowed audibly and waited on tenterhooks for the dreadful tension to break.

"At ease, Cadet." Michael finally said, a trace of amusement in her voice. Tilly's impeccable stance melted away immediately. "Before we begin, there are some things to be said. First, you can leave this room at any time. There will be no hard feelings or repercussions. Is that understood?"

Tilly nodded hesitantly, but when Burnham didn't continue she realized what her friend wanted. "Yes, I understand." she croaked out, her own voice sounding strange and distant to her at this moment.

"Second, over the past few months events have forced me to reexamine myself on a personal level. People who I counted as close friends have told me that I am habitually selfish and manipulative. If we are to continue I want to be clear that while not entirely selfless, my motives are primarily to address certain needs of yours and to push you to be the best Starfleet officer that you can be. If there ever comes a time when you don't think that is the case I want you to tell me. I want you to confront me about it. Can you do that?"

"Um." Tilly could barely hear her own voice over the sound of her heartbeat pounding away in her ears. "Yes I can. I will."

"Good." That single word was heavy with satisfaction and resolution as Burnham began to slowly pace around the young cadet, her eyes piercing her from every angle. "Cadet Sylvia Tilly, twenty three years old, top of your class in Engineering, holder of several academic achievement records, on the fast track to a commission, and yet every night you debase yourself loudly in front of your roommate, and every morning you're slow and distracted during training. And now here you are, acting at the beck and call of a dangerous convicted felon. Why?"

That last word struck Tilly at the core of her being. It was a question that had rung in her mind for years, ever since she had realized that her sexual appetites were different than most. At this moment the only answer that would come to her was that she desperately wanted Michael to have her. "Is it because you're horny? Pent up? I had wondered..." Michael continued, still circling her like a predator around a tempting meal. "But no, if it were merely sexual arousal there are any number of men and women on board this ship who would gladly assist you. I've noticed you looking at some of them too." Tilly blushed. "You don't look at them the same way you look at me though. You certainly don't whisper their names as you orgasm in the dead of night while you think they're sleeping just a few meters away."

That stab of humiliation twisted Tilly's stomach and moistened her panties. "I-" Her protest died when she felt Burnham's hand make contact with her ass. It wasn't a hard smack, but the shock of it nearly caused her to stumble.

"You will be silent until told otherwise." Michael said softly as she resumed her orbit. "I thought perhaps you were merely deeply infatuated with me, but that didn't track with how free and casual you would act at other times, or when we first met. These problems in your effort and concentration and your late night activities correlate to when I began to direct your training regiment. Lieutenant Hodge provided the missing detail. You are a sexual submissive and a masochist, and you have focused those urges on me as an authority figure. Is that correct?" Tilly was silent until Michael added a curt "You may speak."

"I-" How do you respond to that? Tilly wondered. Burnahm had taken feelings that Tilly had been struggling with since puberty and shoved them into a precise, dispassionate summary that made them seem like a diagnosis. On the other hand she was also offering treatment, a plan. It definitely felt like a Michael Burnham plan: thrilling and potentially disastrous. These Burnham plans did tend to deliver spectacular results, in a literal sense. "Yes." Tilly whispered.

"Good. The logical solution to this predicament is obvious. Since you struggle with your emotions regarding sexual pleasure I will assume control of it, and resolve the conflict for you."

"I...it?"

"Your pleasure." Michael hissed into Tilly's ear, her orbit having brought her once again behind her. Slowly, deliberately Michael brought her hand to Tilly's ass and slid it down the fabric covered slope to cup her warm pussy. She curled her fingers up to encompass the mound in a firm grip. Tilly let out a deep gasp. "Do you agree to this course of action?"

"Yess." Tilly squeaked out. Her body desperately wanted to melt into the hand gripping her. She was certain Michael could feel her dampness.

As soon as Tilly had given her affirmation, Michael backed away from her. "Strip." she commanded brusquely. Tilly didn't hesitate, she tore at her uniform in a frenzy. Her jacket and pants hit the floor in quick succession. Standing in only her undershirt panties, Tilly turned her head to look back at Burnham, trying to gauge her reaction. The Vulcan raised woman just arched an eyebrow up at her. Tilly lifted her shirt over her head, exposing her tits to the air. She cast a second glance back at Michael then grasped the hem of her panties and pulled them down slowly.

She stepped out of the soggy piece of fabric but before she could cast them aside Michael stepped forward and plucked them out of her hands. Burnham rubbed the panties between her fingers and thumb, and then looked at Tilly with raised eyebrows. "It seems you're already very aroused Cadet. You have unresolved pleasure to address?" Tilly gave a minute nod to her. "Hm. We'll get to that, but first..." Michael approached the voluptuous naked young women still standing near the entrance to the science lab. She reached out and caressed Tilly's face. "First we have a punishment to administer."

"Pu..Punishment?" Tilly stammered out in genuine shock.

"When you first entered this room, I ordered you to remain still until I was ready. Despite that order I observed you moving on 10 different occasions. I believe one stroke per violation is a fair punishment to start. We'll add in 5 more strokes for the two times you've spoken out of turn in the past few minutes."

Tilly drew in air, ready to respond, but then she saw the look in Burnham's eye and let out that breath. She nodded again.

"Good girl. Now bend over and brace yourself against this station." Burnham gestured over at the station she had been working on, in the back left corner of the room. Tilly walked over to the station, her steps slightly wobbly. When she reached the station she bent over it, resting her breast on the input surface and she gripped the sides of it for support. She could hear Michael behind her and over by one of the displays on the other side of the room. It sounded to Tilly like she was taking her time selecting an instrument, which drove her imagination into overdrive. It was a series of eternal moments before she felt Burnham approaching behind her. "Count for me, Cadet. Any mistakes will reset the count."

Tilly didn't have time to brace herself before the first blow landed with a resounding wooden smack on her left ass cheek. It was sharp and exquisitely painful. She let out a loud moan and cried out "One!" The second blow landed on her right cheek and Tilly found herself humping her ass upward to meet it. "Two!" Instead of a third blow, she felt slender fingers run through her creamy slit, eliciting another low desperate moan.

"Hmm, it feels like you are enjoying this punishment quite a lot. That's to be expected from a masochist like you. You are not to orgasm until ordered." Burnham followed that command with a series of five swift strikes that Tilly rushed to count out, and ran her free hand along the surface of Tilly's ass. "You have a body built for this, you know." Tilly moaned in delighted humiliation. The blunt assessment that she was a natural pain slut thrilled her, because she knew that was Burnham's honest opinion. Three more blows, harder than before, rained down on her.

"Today I have to exercise restraint. I don't want to inflict damage that would interfere with your duties or arouse questions. I spoke to Captain Lorca earlier today however and requisitioned a personal med kit. Going forward I'll be able to go significantly harder on you. Something for you to think about."

Tilly did think about it, briefly shuddering at the notion of being at the mercy of a Michael Burnham without restraint. As she counted out the final strokes she imagined a hypothetical where instead of ending this torment continued until she was nearly broken with both pain and desire. She imagined Burnham treating her back to full health only to destroy her once again. By the time she heard the wooden thud of the paddle hitting the ground as Michael dropped it, she was gasping and groaning out of sheer need.

"You appear to be in a bad way, Cadet. Would you like to orgasm now?"

"Pleaaase" Tilly mewled out. "Please."

"When I said my reasons weren't entirely selfless, I meant it. I was in prison, and before that I was awaiting court martial, and before that I was readying to deal with the Klingons. It has been a long time since I've had sexual relief with a partner, and even longer since I've had a partner as beautiful as you." Michael reached out and caressed the bright red skin of Tilly's rear, the evidence of the pain she had just inflicted on the her friend. "Like I said. Beautiful. I need you, Cadet. Get on your knees."

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