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Star Trek - Deep Space Nine: Blood Wine And Dabo Girls Don't Mix
(MMMF, exbib, ncon)
by ErosTrek ([email protected])

Raylene pulled down the too short hem of her miniskirt for what seemed like
the hundredth time that evening as she listened to Quark talk about the
impending arrival of a Klingon ship. The miniskirt was part of a sequined,
semi-transparent, sheath like dress that clung to her body like a second skin
and it was one size too small for her, leaving the lower half of her shapely
bottom exposed. The boss had insisted she wear it even though she had
protested. It was good for business, he had explained, a customer getting an
eyeful of her rear end would not notice that he had been overcharged for his
drinks. She remained unconvinced but he was the one who was paying and you
don't say no to a Ferengi willing to part with his latinum even if it meant
serving drinks in something that would have been considered immoral even as
underwear on her home planet. Just imagine what Aunt Denora would have said
if she had seen her like this, with this filmy excuse for a dress. But Aunt
Denora was back on Cyrus 4 and Raylene was here on Deep Space 9, four hundred
light years away. She had turned eighteen a couple of months ago and had
decided to leave the frontier planet she had been born on. Life on the
recently (only 45 years ago!) colonized planet meant toiling in fields from
morning to evening growing vegetables and cooking and preparing those same
vegetables for the men at night. Raylene was sick of doing it for the past
twelve years and she just couldn't bring herself to accept that she would be
doing it for her whole life, at least another 120 years.

Just after her eighteenth birthday she had hitched a ride on the first
freighter that had passed through the Cyrus system. A sympathetic captain
who too had been born on a backwater planet gave her the passage for free
and dropped her off on the space station Deep Space 9 in the Bajor system.
She wanted to go to Earth and enlist at Starfleet Academy but the long trip
cost money which she didn't have. She had found an opportunity to earn some
money ... actually opportunity had found her in the form of the owner of
Quark's Bar. Quark was always on the lookout for new talent and kept a
watchful eye on the docking ring when starships arrived looking for fresh
dabo girls for his bar, casino and "personal escort and entertainment"
business. When he had spotted Raylene disembark he knew that he had good
material - all she needed was a bit of makeup to enhance her already pretty
face and some good clothes to show off her curves. After making sure she was
alone and in a bad financial situation he approached her and offered her a
job as a dabo girl. Since he didn't give her all the details of her new job
she accepted immediately hoping to make some quick credit to complete the
rest of her voyage.

Her first misgivings happened around the time she was shown her new wardrobe
but by then she had thumbprinted the contract and unwittingly accepted
several clauses that bound her to work at a fixed wage for a minimum of six
Bajoran months. When an older dabo girl had explained what other services she
would have to provide under the "personal escort and entertainment" clause
she had broken down crying for a whole afternoon wishing she had never left
her back-breaking, but protected, life back on Cyrus 4. The other dabo girls
did their best to console her and when she had stopped crying they had
dressed her for her first night of serving drinks at the bar. As it turned
out it wasn't all that bad and in the first week she had seen and served more
aliens than she had ever read about in the public library back home. By now
she had almost gotten used to the variety of hands, paws, claws and tentacles
that groped at her scantily clad bottom. In fact she didn't mind it all that
much especially if that handsome Dr Bashir was doing the fondling.

This evening though was going to be different. It seemed that a Klingon Bird
of Prey, the Kor'vagh, was about to dock at the station after having been on
some form of scouting mission deep within Dominion controlled space for the
past three months, Quark was saying. It was top secret of course but he had
his sources. He was briefing the various Ferengi waiters and the Bajoran and
human dabo girls on what to expect from a bar full of noisy, angry Klingons
out on a drinking binge. Those who had already gone through such an
experience shuddered, recalling unpleasant memories. When Klingons drank and
partied, it usually meant that someone was going to end up dead or horribly
mutilated. Raylene didn't really believe this. They were just telling her
such stories to scare the new girl from a backwater planet. She had met
Commander Worf once and he hadn't seemed all that frightening even if those
ridges on his forehead took some getting used to. Suddenly a small screen
behind the counter beeped and activated itself. Quark motioned for everyone
to be quiet and announced, "They're here." The screen showed a view of space
from the docking ring and all Raylene could see was stars. Space at the
center of the screen seemed to shimmer and the green hull of a Bird of Prey
appeared as the cloaking device was deactivated. It was beautiful, Raylene
thought, as she watched the sleek and dangerous looking ship arc in towards
the docking ring and clamp its nose onto a docking port. She had always liked
spacecraft which was why she wanted to join StarFleet.

When the screen switched off Raylene looked around. She nervously tossed her
shoulder length, red hair. The bar seemed quiet and now that she noticed, all
the other customers had left within the last five minutes leaving the Ferengi
waiters and dabo girls alone watching the screen. Only one customer remained,
a large, silent alien sitting on a stool before the counter ... Morn, yes
that was his name, Morn. She was about to ask the dabo girl to her left why
everyone had left when suddenly a group of wild-eyed, long haired Klingons
still dressed in grey, metallic body armor decorated with various chains and
brightly colored sashes strode into the bar and made straight for the counter
where Quark cowered.

"Let's have some blood wine you Ferengi scum!" one of them shouted.

"Where's my gagh?" shouted another, grabbing a short Ferengi by his collar
"Make sure its fresh and still squirming or I'll have your intestines
instead."

"Son of a targ," roared a fierce looking Klingon with a scar running down
the left side of his face, "give me Holosuite 3's memory crystal. I have
been waiting for three months to finish the Battle of Daq'nej and my bat'leth
needs to be coated in blood!" He brandished the large, curved weapon in the
air as he spoke narrowly missing a few of his fellow Klingon's heads. Quark
quickly gave him the memory crystal hoping that any bloodshed would be of the
simulated kind in the holosuites and not on his counter. The stains were
always difficult to remove and most customers were squeamish about such
things.

The requests for drink and food came fast and furious and Raylene was amazed
at how Quark and the other Ferengis seemed to handle the numerous orders with
relative ease. Of course, knowing that your life was at stake if you brought
a plate of steamed grub worms to a Klingon who had ordered medium-rare rump
of Tenorian wildbeast, made you extra careful. The noise was overwhelming,
the bar was packed to the brim. Cries of "dabo" as the game wheels were spun
intermingled with raucous laughter and gruff voices as Klingons recounted
tales of war which had two major themes: honor and blood.

Up to now Raylene had been standing unnoticed in a corner of the bar
listening with increasing anxiety to the blood-thirsty warriors. Nothing in
the past week had prepared her for such a situation and she was terrified.
Quark noticed his latest dabo girl not earning her pay and he motioned her
over to the counter to start serving customers. Raylene obeyed unwillingly,
pulled down the miniskirt uselessly one last time and picked up a tray
holding blood-wine filled mugs. She balanced it on her hand and made her way
between the tables to the one Quark had pointed out. Luckily she made it
without spilling too much of the drinks and placed the tray down on the table
bending over at the waist as Quark had taught her. This ensured that the
customer got a view right down her ample cleavage, and as Quark had said, a
happy customer is a paying customer. However, what Quark hadn't mentioned and
she had never considered was that these particular customers were Klingons
who had been confined in the close quarters of a male only crewed ship for
three months and she was the first female they were seeing in such a long
time and her clothing or lack of it was the final straw.

She was just straightening up when the Klingon closest to her put his rough
palm on her bottom and squeezed the firm flesh. Raylene squeaked in surprise
and tried to walk away but the Klingon on her other side had grabbed hold of
her arm, while the first continued to fondle her ass. Her first thought was
to struggle and scream but the other girls had told her that would only make
it worse, just relax and let the customers have a good feel, they had said,
they'd stop soon enough, usually. So she did just that and stood motionless
hoping that they'd let go of her soon. Little did she know what was in store
for her.

The Klingon squeezing her rear end had pulled up her miniskirt so that her
ass was completely bare and was smacking the white skin, leaving a red palm
print. Each time he did this he and his friends found this to be immensely
funny and would laugh deafeningly After several more slaps on her bare bottom
which was now tingling painfully, Raylene couldn't take it any longer.

"Hey," she exclaimed having finally found her tongue, "will you stop that!?"

This made all three Klingons laugh even louder which convinced Raylene that
they were completely drunk. However, the smacks stopped which made Raylene
sigh in relief only to be replaced by a sudden dread as the Klingon's hands
moved to the thong panties she was wearing and which had been revealed when
her miniskirt had been pulled up. The Klingon grabbed the panties and with
a single jerk he tore them off her leaving her completely naked from the
waist down right in the middle of the crowded bar. With a shout he held up
the piece of material like a trophy while the other two Klingons whooped
and roared in approval. All three grabbed their blood wine mugs, clinked
them together and downed the contents in one gulp.

Raylene was trying to cover herself as best as she could with one hand
between her legs, the other still in the Klingon's vice like grip. Her cheeks
were blushing furiously, with shame and fear. When she looked around all she
could see were hordes of Klingons in their metallic grey uniforms and no sign
of her boss, Quark, or any of the other dabo girls. She tried to call out but
her voice was drowned by the merry making Klingons. Meanwhile, the three
Klingons who held her captive had turned their attention to her chest. The
one holding her pulled her towards him and forced her to sit down on his lap.
The other two pulled their chairs up till she was completely surrounded by
three seated Klingons, with wide, toothy grins on their faces, their beards
dripping with blood wine. One of them reached out and fondled a breast
through her form hugging dress. Unable to get a good grip because of the
slippery material he growled in frustration and swore. The other Klingon
laughed at this and pushed aside his hand.

"A true warrior is not stopped by a piece of material," he told him and he
inserted his large hand right down the cleavage between her breasts, grabbed
the front of her dress and with one savage jerk that left her gasping for
breath, tore it right down the center. Raylene was now completely nude except
for a ragged piece of material that still hung from the straps on her
shoulders. All three Klingons were grabbing at her large, well rounded tits
and Raylene realized that situation had gone beyond her control, which she
hadn't had much of in the first place. As if to confirm her worst fears, the
Klingon on whose lap she was sitting on grabbed her waist roughly and pulled
her up till she felt something large and hard beneath her.

He grinned at her wickedly and said, "That is not part of my armor, little
girl. You will soon see what a warrior's sword of flesh looks like!"

His rough hands moved from her waist to her thighs. She just sat there
trembling slightly and when she felt his arms on her legs, she clamped her
thighs shut as hard as she could. This didn't deter the Klingon who slid his
hand between them easily and began to eagerly grope her crotch. Tears began
to stream from her eyes as the Klingon's rough fingers found her slit and
began to rub the velvety skin which parted slightly under his touch.

"Oh please stop. Don't touch me there," she begged, sobbing loudly, "Please
let me go."

The Klingon ignored her and continued to slide his fingers along her pussy.
However after a while he became frustrated at not having easy access because
she was still clamping her legs shut. Deciding to do something about it he
lifted her up bodily, one arm around her thighs, another around her back. The
Klingon opposite him rose too and with one shove swept the table clear of
mugs and empty dishes which clattered to the metallic floor. He threw Raylene
unceremoniously down on the table. As her bare back made contact with the
cold metal she flinched and tried to get up but was held down by the two
Klingons who grabbed an arm and a leg each. The third one on whose lap she
had been sitting stood before her and grabbed both her ankles. Though she
tried to resist, she was no match for his immense strength and in a matter of
seconds her legs were wide open, her cunt finally in full view. Her pubic
hair was the same color as the hair on her head, a bright orange-red, and was
neatly shaved into a small patch just above her slit. Though terrified and
unwilling, her pussy was lubricating having been aroused by the previous
contact and the skin around its lips glistened with wetness.

The Klingon's eyes flashed with excitement as the red hair, the color of
human blood, excited him. He undid a large metallic buckle that kept his
trousers up, and they fell around his ankles. Raylene took one look and
wished she hadn't. A ten inch monster of a cock sprang to attention between
the Klingon's legs. It was covered with ridges of hard material similar to
those on the Klingon's forehead and the head was shaped like a shovel. It
was a dark, purple color as the blood pulsed in thick veins visible along
its whole length.

"By Kah'less," the Klingon shouted, "it has been a long time since I have
satisfied myself. Open wide you human daughter of a targ in heat."

"No ... no ... oh please ... no," Raylene stammered and tried again to get
up.

Her efforts were rewarded by the Klingon to her side who backhanded her
across the face. The blow wasn't all that powerful but it was enough to split
her lower lip at the corner of her mouth. A drop of blood welled out of the
small cut and Raylene screamed with a mixture of pain, anger and fear at the
top of her lungs. This time, several of the other Klingons looked round, saw
what was happening ..... and laughed while passing several lewd and
congratulatory comments on how fortunate their crew mates were on having
found some cunt so quickly. Since no help had come she stopped screaming and
though she squirmed about she was too stunned to put up much resistance as
the Klingon stood between her legs and pushed his massive tool into her tight
cunt.

Raylene wasn't a virgin. One thing frontier planets didn't have were taboos
about sex. They needed to increase the planet's population as quickly as
possible so sexual relationships and marriages between teenagers were
accepted if not exactly actively encouraged. So in Raylene's case, the
fifteen year old baker's son back in her village on Cyrus 4 had removed her
virginity. It had been their first time and he had been very gentle and
loving since he also had a crush on her. Being the sexiest looking sixteen
year old in a 500 mile radius must have had a hand in convincing the baker's
son but for Raylene it was love at first sight. That was two years ago and
until the time she had left her home planet she had experienced several more
men.

However they had all been of "normal size" unlike the huge alien penis that
was penetrating her young vagina. As the shovel-like head found her hole and
pushed in, she gritted her teeth in pain knowing that if she screamed they'd
hit her again. The Klingon grunted as he found that he could only push his
cock in a couple of inches. He withdrew it, spat into his hand and used the
saliva to coat his stiff, purple member. He tried again and this time he slid
in more easily to almost half the length of his tool. The thick, ridged flesh
filled Raylene completely stretching her love tunnel so much that she felt as
if she was being torn apart. Slowly, but at an ever increasing pace, the
Klingon began to thrust forward into her. This went on for a while, as
Raylene continued to sob silently and the noise from the crowd around her
continued to increase. The pain seemed to diminish as she entered a trance
like state where the only focus was the Klingon before her grunting and
snorting as he plunged his cock into her. What seemed to Raylene like hours
passing were in fact only minutes as the drunk Klingon raped her. She was
hardly feeling the pain anymore probably because she had gotten used to it or
the flesh of her cunt had stretched slightly to accommodate the throbbing
penis.

Her eyes were so blurred with tears that she didn't notice that the first
Klingon had stopped fucking her and the second had taken his place. Time
seemed to stretch to infinity as her body was violated a second and then a
third time by the alien warriors with their animal lust. The space station
around her seemed to be heaving with a steady rhythm though in fact it was
she that was being rocked back and forth as the Klingons humped her on the
table. At least half an hour passed before the last Klingon pumped his load
onto her stomach adding more sticky fluid to the pints already supplied by
his crew mates. Raylene didn't realize that all three had stopped and had
satisfied their three month long urge to fuck. She just lay there, her head
over the edge of the table, the whites of her eyes showing, their thick cum
dripping slowly down the sides of her stomach and between her legs into a
puddle on the deck.

It was at this moment that a path seemed to clear through the horde of
Klingons and Quark rushed through reluctantly, pulled along by Leeta, chief
dabo-girl and his sister-in-law. Leeta was urging him on and saying, "How
could you let them do this to the poor dear. She's only been here a week. I
haven't even started to train her on how to have sex with paying customers
and you've let her be gang raped by these savages."

Quark was trying to get in a word edgewise but Leeta just pushed him in front
of the three Klingons sitting around the nude, battered and cum-covered
Raylene.

"Errr ... you know ... you shouldn't have done this," muttered Quark at the
Klingons who towered over him even when seated. "This girl is just a trainee
and hasn't been taught how to give pleasure to clients."

The Klingon who had fucked Raylene first began to guffaw with laughter.

"She did give all three of us the pleasure we were looking for Ferengi," he
said, "now leave us alone and refill our mugs with blood wine!"

"Yes ... of course," Quark whispered, bowed and was about to turn away when
he bumped into Leeta who stood behind him, hands on her hips, tapping her
high heeled boots on the floor.

"Quark," she said menacingly.

Quark was caught between two fires. An angry sister-in-law and three
Klingons. He decided he'd be better off if he face the Klingons.

He puffed up his chest trying to look braver than he was feeling and turned
towards the Klingons.

"Now what do you want Ferengi scum? Have you brought our blood wine already?"

"You will pay for having used the girl and for the consumption of food and
drinks. Then you will leave the bar or I will call for Constable Odo," Quark
was surprised at himself that he managed to say it and his surprise turned
to terror when the Klingon drew a sharp three bladed dagger and pressed it
against his neck.

All the Klingon needed to do was apply a slight pressure to the dagger and
it would plunge into Quark's neck and kill him. He doubted that even Dr
Bashir would be able to revive him if that occurred. They stood immobile
for several seconds Klingon and Ferengi staring at each other. Quark wasn't
even breathing as the cold steel pressed against his neck. He was going to
die, he knew it. He should never have listened to Leeta. After all a dabo
girl was meant to be fucked wasn't she? She certainly wasn't worth Quark's
life.

Suddenly the dagger disappeared into the Klingon's clothing and the Klingon
thumped Quark on the back cordially though it would probably be bruised for
a whole week.

"You are brave, Ferengi. We wouldn't have believed that such an inferior
race would be able to face three of us but since we are mistaken and we have
enjoyed ourselves in your bar we won't harm you." He reached into a pouch on
his belt and threw three slips of gold-pressed latinum at the table. "Those
are for the girl," he told Quark who was about to retrieve them. With that
they rose and stomped out of Quark's Bar much to Quark's relief.

"Oh you were so brave Quark," Leeta told him and kissed him on his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah," Quark said then, "please call Dr Bashir because I think I'm
going to have a heart attack."

However, Leeta wasn't listening to him anymore. She had gone near Raylene who
was coming to her senses and holding her around the shoulders she escorted
the naked girl into the private rooms behind the counter where she helped her
clean up and made her presentable. Quark expected that he had lost an
excellent, and beautiful, dabo girl but he was mistaken because later in the
day she came and talked to him. Her eyes were slightly swollen from crying,
but the cut on her lip had been healed and she didn't seem all that badly
affected by her ordeal.

"Boss," she said, "Leeta told me how brave you were and how you saved me from
those brutes."

Quark blushed, "Oh it was nothing really. I'd do anything for such a
beautiful girl as you."

"That's what I want to talk about," Raylene said, "I won't be leaving because
I still need to pay my trip to Earth and I don't really mind the sex itself,
if they hadn't been so rough. So I want to stay on as a dabo girl and have
Leeta teach me everything I need to know."

Quark couldn't believe his ears. "If you really want to stay, that's great.
Welcome to Quark's Bar," he said.

"And I want a ten per cent rise in my wage and I get to keep all the
gratuities," she added.

Quark was about to refuse when he saw Leeta standing in the doorway smiling
at him, her arms crossed across her chest. He knew that look on Leeta's face
and it usually meant that she was going to get her way whatever he said or
did.

"Ok, ok, fine ... you can have a five per cent increase but any unsatisfied
customers have to be repaid out of your own pocket."

Raylene jumped up and down, squealing happily. "Oh Quark, you're so kind,"
and she kissed him on his lips then turned and ran off to Leeta, her
beautiful, tight ass swaying to and fro at him.

Quark watched the two women leave the now empty bar. "She's a quick learner,"
he muttered to himself and shook his head. "Why do I always let these females
get the better of me?"

    

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