Disclaimers: The repressed folks at Paramount are the only ones who get paid to play with these kids. I'm just borrowing them for a little extracurricular activity. If you're repressed too, or just under 18, don't read this, because it might aggravate your condition.
Summary: Complications cause Seven and Janeway to take their usual friendly wager on velocity to the chessboard. When Seven wins (for the first time), the results are...interesting.
Winner Takes All
by ms. russo
The disk went whizzing
by as Janeway rammed into Seven with her shoulder, just making her shot.
The unchecked momentum carried them both to the floor, and she heard the
rush of Seven's breath as unfortunate parts of the other woman's body absorbed
her weight. Seven was trying to roll out from under her, to locate the
disk, and as Janeway started to extricate herself, the adrenaline set her head spinning and she used her elbow to shove her back to the floor, hard. Seven said nothing, but her Borg enhanced arm shot out and vengefully yanked Janeway down, sending her sliding. She hit the disk with a phaser beam. But Janeway had momentarily lost interest in the game. She barreled at her opponent, slamming her into the wall with her arm--only to hear her head connect with it with a loud crack. Immediately chagrined, she stepped back, her face lined with concern, and her hands turned caressing on Seven's shoulders, holding her up as she tried to recover from the blow. Seven's eyes came up to meet her captain's, clouded with pain.
"Seven, we have to stop this," her tone was both sheepish and determined, "before we kill each other."
They slid to the floor, Janeway smoothing her hands over Seven's forehead, Seven reaching out to wipe a dark trickle of blood from Janeway's cheek. As her head cleared, she tenderly bent forward to touch the cut with her tongue. Janeway pushed her back.
"Captain, I fail to see how this activity presents a greater risk of physical harm than...others that we engage in."
"The danger in those activities is controlled, this is not. We are risking injuring each other seriously and accidentally, and we don't seem to be able to play without it degenerating into downright brawling."
"What do you suggest?"
"Well, as the Doctor so succinctly put it, perhaps we should 'find a safer game.'"
Seven eloquently raised a metallic eyebrow.
They were still deep in thought about the issue as they walked toward the living decks, showered and uniformed (although this had a somewhat unconventional meaning, in Seven's case).
"Perhaps it is necessary for us to devise a contest that does not involve any physical contact."
Janeway's eyes lit up with inspiration. "What about a mental challenge, scientist to scientist?"
"Precisely. Tuvok has been explaining to me the rules of several Vulcan games of logic..."
"A human game of strategy?"
"Yes." They had stopped walking outside cargo bay 2, and Seven noticed Janeway's eyes glittering dangerously.
"Very well, I will familiarize myself with it."
"Tomorrow, my quarters, 2000h."
"The usual prize to the victor?"
"You don't want a practice game?"
"I do not require 'practice.'"
Always the considerate hostess, Janeway had laid out her quarters meticulously: the table was spread with bread and cheese and fruit, and two glasses of white wine had just materialized in the replicator when the door alert announced Seven's arrival. Her guest's eyes scanned the room, the food, Janeway's body, her amused smile, and alighted on the hardwood chess set that was set up on a card table, the centerpiece of the living area. It was ancient, beautifully carved, and it glowed warmly in the soft lighting.
"Chess is not a game without beauty."
Seven refrained from giving the expected response.
Janeway brought her the wine, and they sat down to eat, discussing astrometric anomalies in the region of space they were entering, Naomi Wildman's antics, Seven's latest insubordinations in engineering. Janeway passed pieces of food across to her, pressing them between her lips as Seven sucked her fingers into her mouth. Finally Seven cocked her head,
"Shall we play, Captain?"
Janeway stood silently and they walked, in ritual, to the chess board. With it between them, she murmured "Let's begin," and their heads bent forward into a searing kiss over the table. Janeway's hands reached up to clasp Seven's neck, impulsively pulling her deeper into the emotion they were allowing, for a moment, to pour into tongues and teeth. Finally, they broke away, Janeway breathing hard, Seven wiping the saliva from around her mouth with her thumb.
"Why don't you go first, since you're the beginner?"
Kathryn made the mistake of glancing up at Seven as she contemplated the board, only to see her absently pulling the hairpins out of her severe blond coif so that her hair fanned out over her shoulders. Her gaze dropped and was captured by Kathryn's arrested grey eyes. Then she almost tipped a smile as she glanced casually at the fully functional replica of an ancient clock that was ticking away next to them. Kathryn mentally kicked herself for her loss of concentration, but outwardly she simply returned her eyes coolly to the board.
Seven was clearly not going to be easy prey. She'd arrayed her pieces skillfully across the board, and was thinking several moves ahead. Kathryn could almost predict what she was going to do next...but not quite. It didn't help that both of them were playing defensive, trying to get a feel for each others' style before risking too much--at least that was what she was doing. Damn, her mouth watered to know what was in that woman's head. She consciously dropped her chin, letting her hair brush her cheek as it fell across her face. Then she took a deep breath, deciding it was time to stop playing so cerebral and tune into her fighting instincts, and reached down to wrap her fingers around a bishop and move it decisively to the other side of the board.
Seven watched the captain's elegant fingers playing across the pieces, touching, almost stroking each one, as if she were trying to read something from its surface. She was mesmerized. The captain was an impulsive, inefficient player, but too often her unpredictable moves caught Seven off guard, without an adequate defense. She was skilled at swiftly taking advantage of holes in Seven's eminently logical configurations. An equal amount of times, though, Seven was able to capitalize on flaws her offensive bravado left in the captain's strategy. Like now, she thought, as she watched the captain finally choose her move. She stifled her smile, as she moved to capture an insignificant pawn, flicking her thumb over the rounded head a few times as she picked it up.
What her opponent didn't know was that behind her cautious, calculated play, she was learning the game in her mind, silently developing an elaborate and unconventional strategy that involved both speed and stealth.
Kathryn looked at the board and frowned. Seven had left her queen undefended and she had no idea why. This troubled her. Still, she couldn't refuse bait like that.
"You've given up your Lady."
She pressed the dark wood to her lips as she lifted it from the board.
She watched Seven, long legs crossed, slowly rubbing her thighs together.
In the end, it was almost too easy.
She kept her voice chilly, even as she felt warmed from inside at the sight of the captain's head jerking up, eyes wide with surprise, and then down again as she studied the board. At length. Seven waited patiently, every muscle in her body knitted with tension, until the captain raised her head, with defeat in her eyes, respect, defiance...and fear.
This was...more than acceptable.
"You have won," she said quietly.
Seven held out her hand, and the captain plucked her communicator off her chest and deposited it there, her fingers searing Seven's palm. Her eyes never left Seven's.
"Stand up, and remove your clothing."
She watched the hesitation set itself into the captain's jaw, as she began re-pinning her hair.
"As you have said, Captain, a bet's a bet."
Pridefully, Janeway uncoiled herself, ran her fingers through her hair, and began efficiently stripping herself of her uniform and the decidedly unregulation black satin under things she'd concealed underneath, until she stood naked, chest rising and falling invitingly as she struggled to control her breathing.
Seven allowed herself a
feral smile. Her eyes traced the contours of the body that she was rarely
allowed to see when she wasn't in the throes of a passion she still found...disorienting,
and she calculated, blissfully.
There was only the slightest pause before the captain fell gracefully to her knees, eyes trained on the carpet between them.
Seven got up, and walked around her slowly, observing. Then she slid into a crouch, seizing the back of the captain's neck and bending her until her cheek was pressed to the floor.
"You did not anticipate my victory. You are afraid, and you tell yourself it is because I am not experienced at this activity."
They were both breathing hard. She inclined her lips toward the captain's ear.
"I assure you, I have been adequately trained. By a demanding instructor. And I am a very apt pupil."
She stood up, leaving the captain prostrate for a moment as she contemplated various possibilities.
She reached down and grabbed the captain's arm, pulling her to her feet and into the bedroom. She guided her onto the bed, face up. She watched her for a moment, noting that she refused to look at her.
"Give me your left hand."
Kathryn gritted her teeth and let her buckle her limbs into the restraints at the four corners of the bed, and Seven stood back as she tested the bonds and flexed her fingers. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed, and turned the captain's chin to face her.
"You have a safeword, but you will not use it unless you can justify that by believing that I am not performing my task correctly. You know I want to hurt you. But you do not know how much I want to hurt you. I am afraid of damaging you seriously."
Seven paused as she watched some of the confidence drain out of her partner's face.
"These concerns, however, are irrelevant. Since I became an individual, I have observed your behavior carefully. Pain is not challenging to you, as it is to me. You experience greater difficulty with pleasure. And I do not desire to make this less difficult for you."
Janeway had closed her eyes.
"Try to relax...Captain."
With that, Seven leaned down and kissed her, forcing her way into her mouth with her tongue. She experienced no resistance, but observed a total lack of responsiveness, a complete, almost hostile, passivity. She pulled back to think for a moment, then rose and walked back into the living room.
She returned with the clock
from the chess game, which she placed on the table next to the bed. She
touched a button to start it, and reached for the captain's ear with her
lips. As the timer ticked off the seconds, she ravished the captain's throat
and shoulders, sucking the flesh into her mouth, drawing geometric patterns
with her tongue, nipping until she heard her gasp. She nuzzled into her
armpit and grazed kisses along the smooth exposed skin of her upper arms,
feeling the muscles tense against the restraints as she hit spots that
were ticklish. When the buzzer on the clock sounded, she stopped, and claimed
the captain's lips again. Then she started it over and moved to her breasts,
stroking them with just her fingertips. After the next chime, she was rougher,
biting the captain's nipples hard. Thoroughly, she ministered to the captain's
stomach and the sensitive points of her hip bones, then moved to wrap her
mouth around her toes, stopping after each measured interval to gauge her
response with a kiss. By the time she had finished torturing the captain's
thighs, she was straining to press herself further into Seven's mouth, moaning into her. Seven stood up to observe her; she was panting.
"A human response."
Illogically, she felt...angry. She pushed the timer to the side as she opened a drawer, fishing around inside.
"Perhaps a small amount of pain would not be ineffective."
She reached down and pulled one of the captain's nipples away from her body, stretching it so she could fasten a clamp around it, watching her try to twist herself away from its bite. They looked at each other, and Seven's eyes were icy. Unable to resist, she aimed a slap at the side of the breast she'd just released before she moved to settle herself between her legs.
"Do not come, or I will leave you here like this."
Seven was torturing her.
She'd spent an excruciating amount of time licking and sucking her labia,
then another eternity with her tongue jabbing and stroking inside of her,
moving to her clit for a moment only often enough to keep it swollen and
throbbing. Now she was licking it, but alternately not fast enough or hard
to let her come. Her nipple felt like it was connected by threads of pain to the bands around her wrists and ankles--her body was telling her she was in heaven, that she loved the sensation of being spread out like this, unable to move, and she hated showing this to Seven, hated the noises she was making as she looked down
at her annoyingly clothed body in her lap, hated that she knew she wouldn't come until Seven told her she could.
She was suspended on the edge, her thighs twitching against Seven's shoulders, when Seven suddenly stopped and looked up at her, replacing her mouth with the slight pressure of a finger. Kathryn caught her breath at the need that had written itself across her face. This was different.
"You have a choice. I will make you come now, and I will release you and leave your quarters. Or, I will stop, remove my clothing, and allow you to pleasure me. You will come later, but I will not touch you again."
Kathryn felt the emotions
come crashing into her, straight out of her clit. She wanted to come so
badly it set her teeth on edge, and half of her did want this woman who
was manipulating her so expertly out, now. But she needed more desperately
to see her strip off the bodysuit, to put her mouth on her until she let
and screamed. And the way she was looking at her...
"Let me taste you."
Seven stood up, making Kathryn whimper despairingly as her fingers left her, and peeled off her outfit. Then she walked, naked, around the bed, unbuckling the restraints, and removing the nipple clamp as gently as possible. She moved quickly, climbing onto the bed and pressing Kathryn's nipple into her own wetness to soothe the pain, and then shifting until she was straddling Kathryn's head and lowering herself onto her eager mouth.
The captain's fingertips were leaving imprints in her thighs as her hips undulated wildly against her face. It felt like the captain's tongue was everywhere at once, possessing her, and she pushed herself to match that intensity, to exceed it, pushed herself down until she was splayed against her lips, devouring her in return. She uncoiled herself into her clit, letting the captain take her, giving in to the need she was unable to escape until her climax exploded through her, and she did throw back her head and scream. She fell forward against the wall, and stayed there, spent, for a long moment, feeling unacceptably full of emotion. Too much human emotion. Kathryn was still rubbing her face against her. She pushed off the bed, shaking.
"Spread your legs, and keep them that way."
Janeway pulled her knees
up and apart, shaking a little herself as Seven went to open her closet,
rummaging on the shelf until she emerged with an elegant black riding crop.
She said nothing to her as she approached, catlike, trailing the leather
tip against her own calf. She paused at the foot of the bed, and stared
into Janeway's wide eyes, her mouth an inscrutable line, her eyes dark
and slitted. She dropped her gaze, bringing the tip of the crop up to tease
the swollen folds spread out intimately before her, and then, without warning,
she brought her arm up, and down, the blow falling hard and flat against
Janeway's clit. She stifled a cry and jerked her hands up to grip her knees,
holding them apart. Concentrating, Seven slapped her quickly and
lightly, and then let fly again, sending pain shooting through her body.
She alternated her strokes unpredictably, and Janeway watched, mesmerized,
as the barely contained emotion rippled almost imperceptibly across her
face with each swat. She felt the pain deliriously fusing with her pleasure until she was almost sobbing and her hips were rising up off the bed to meet the blows. And then, fired by the sight and the smell of cunt, Seven started hitting her over and over. And then she was coming so hard. Seven watched her fling her arms out wide, screaming, and she felt the heat flow out of her arm, and suddenly she was crying, silently. Janeway was curling herself into a ball on her bed, and Seven crawled up behind her, feeling small and utterly drained, and wrapped her arms around her. For a long time they just lay there, Seven shaking against Janeway's back and burying her face in her hair. Janeway spoke first, quietly and slowly, reaching back to stroke her thigh.
"You hate me. You hate what I did to you."
"I love you."
"You love me too much."
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