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Star Trek - The Next Generation: Doctor Brahms Encounter Part 2 (MF,bdsm)
by Anonymous

The familiar hum of the transporter preceeded the sparkling materialization
of three figures. Mrs. Lwuxana Troi stood out because of the Betazoid
tradition of travelling naked. Mr. Homm, her personal manservant, towered
almost to the transporter ceiling. He, however, was not naked. Neither was
Dr. Leah Brahms, a super-intelligent (and a superbly shaped) engineer. She
was just stepping off the transporter when Geordi LaForge entered the room.

"Dr. Brahms, welcome aboard the Enterprize, I'm Lieutennant Commander Geordi
LaForge." He said cordially as he extended his hand. Unbeknownst to everyone
except Geordi something else had also extended itself.

The doorway parted again and in walked Deanna. "Greetings mother, how are
you?"

Lwuxana stepped off the pad exhuberantly hugging her daughter "Oh, I'm just
wonderful dear. Now where is that cute Captain of yours?" her eyes darted
about the room.

"Please mother, Captain Pickard is very busy. I'm sure he'll welcome you
aboard later."

Lwuxana smiled as here eyes widened "And I will reciprocate by welcoming him
aboard my vessel, too!".

* * *

Captain Pickard had just slipped on his white satin robe when the door
sounded. He responded commandingly as ususal "Come."

Dr. Beverly Crusher entered. "Good morning Jean-Luc, how are you?"

Her tone was so pleasant the Captain actually felt better even though he
hadn't felt bad before. They both stood for a long moment, each immersed in
their own thoughts about the other.

Beverly's long, reddish hair swirled ever so slightly around her shoulders.
It's texture looked as soft as silk, and it was. The zipper on her shirt was
at its lowest possible position revealing two soft, ripe mounds pressing hard
against each other. The line between them was almost more inviting than the
breasts themselves. Her waist curved like an hourglass, her hips rounded and
continued into legs that any man would die to have strapped around him.

Even though Jean-Luc had only recently woken up his appearance was more than
acceptable to Beverly. After all, there was no hair to mess up. His head
reminded her of the tip of a penis. And what a penis he had. It had gone
where no one had gone before, over and over. But it was more than his body
that turned her on. More than his firm but soft chest. More than his tight,
French butt. It was his gestures, his attitude, his very controlling nature
that showed through his face. And this was Sunday morning... time for their
weekly ritual.

Jean-Luc poured the Earl Grey tea as Beverly licked a danish. It was
obviously an erotic jesture designed to excite Jan-Luc. He seemed not to
notice but Beverly knew better. She began the conversation, "You've been a
naughtly boy, Jean-Luc."

His eyes looked up from his tea, but his mouth was still pressed against the
rim "How so?"

Beverly smiled with the face of an angel. She reached to her side with speed
faster than warp 9. Her smile remained the same as she produced a black whip.
Captain Pickard's eyes widened. Still in his robe he pushed out his chair
with a single body motion. The teacup was hastily placed on the saucer as he
turned to run. Beverly was already standing near the door. Jean-Luc dashed
for the bathroom but collapsed without warning. Beverly moved forward
leisurly, almost sauntering.

"I spiked your tea, Captain", two quick giggles followed. Her soft smile
faded to a look rivaling Hitler. She stood over the Captain like a conqueror
while calling into the air. "Computer, open cabinet 'C'"

The cabinet door slid aside revealing a myriad of masochistic pariphinalia.
Everything from leather underwear to spiked bracelets were represented.
Captain Pickard was sleeping like a tranquillized animal.

When he awoke he was bound to his bed, adorned in the acoutrements of cabinet
'C'. His robe now gone, he was dressed all in black leather. Spiked bracelets
bound his legs and arms to secure points with chains. Leather underwear may
have been uncomfortable, but it was covering his genitals. A two inch thick
spiked necklace completed the package.

Beverly stood over him, herself dolled up in a leather outfit. The only
difference besides the items were the texture. Jean-Luc's were thick and
hard. Beverly wore soft, thin leather. Her high black boots complimented her
long legs. She wore blue leather shorts with a blue top that encircled her
breasts, allowing them to show completely. Black leather gloves covered her
hands, one of which was still holding the whip. She glanced down lovingly at
Jean-Luc. Her breath was full and slow, allowing her full, round boobs to
heave in a motion that would drive half the galaxy wild.

"Don't worry Captain", she comforted, "this won't hurt a bit". A pause
followed as she brought forth a whip. "Ha!" she completed her thought, "Like
hell it won't!" The sharp sound of leather cracking echoed through the cabin
like a bullet.

* * *

"What is it Mister Data?" Riker stood motionless staring at the main view
screen.

"It is a disabled Borg scout ship, Sir. There is one Borg alive, four others
have ceased functioning."

Riker thought for a moment. "Ensign Douchett - continue scanning for any Borg
rescue ships. Worf - you will be part of my away team. Mister Data - you have
the bridge. Mr. Crusher - maintain standard orbit... and put that magazine
away!"

Riker tapped his communicator as he and Worf rode the turbolift. "Dr. Crusher
to transporter room three".

* * *

Jean-Luc's cabin was dark with a purple mist in the air. The mist was an
andorian aphrodisiac made especially for sado-masochists. As soon as she
heard Riker's voice Beverly's head snapped up as if someone had sneaked up
behind her. Her hair tossed elegantly revealing a beautiful, but somewhat
sinister face. She was panting, and not without reason. She sighed in
dissapointment, then dismounted Captain Pickard. "Damn, I was almost there."
she whispered aloud as she rushed to put her starfleet uniform on.

Dashing to the bathroom for a moment to check for marks and brush her hair
was all she needed to do before leaving. At the cabin door she turned to the
Captain, still chained to the bed, "Don't go away" a snighed laugh followed
as she proceeded out into what seemed like a blinding light even though it
was only the corridor.

As the cabin doors closed a puff of purple mist escaped along with a cry for
help "Get me out of....".

* * *

"What have you done to my designs?!" Dr. Leah Brahms was still beautiful, but
also quite angry as she addressed Geordi LaForge.

"Well, sometimes in the field we are forced to try new ideas," was the calm
rebuttal. "Speaking of which," Geordi continued, "would you like to get
together for dinner in my cabin later? I make a great Moon-jelly."

The anger in Leah's face softened as a surprised smile replaced it, "I love
Moon-jelly."

Geordi knowingly tilted his head and thought to himself, "I know, and I'll
bet I know what else you love to eat."

* * *

Sickbay had a new tennant in the form of an injured Borg. Dr. Crusher hovered
over the alien tending to the wounds. Commander Riker and Worf stood back,
arms folded, eyes piercing down at their enemy.

"That's amazing!" Dr. Crusher marveled.

"What is it, Doctor?", Riker was curious.

"This Borg", she replied, "is very readily equiped."

"How so?" Worf interjects.

"This area of his body seems to be dedicated to sexual gratification. These
five pockets contain all types of condoms," Dr. Crusher presses a pocket
which opens up, "Ohhh, ribbed!" she coughed realizing her company and pressed
the item back into the pocket. Her tone once again becomes professional, "The
electronic buttons here seem to produce certain stimuli. I wonder what this
red one is for..." as she pressed the button a protective panel in the Borg's
uniform mechanically swung out. What swung out next caused all three to drop
their jaws wide open.

"He-e-e-e's Huge!" Beverly's voice is scratchy with surprise.

Riker closed his mouth and replaced his look of awe with a look of discust,
"Great, we've captured Huge, the wonder stud!"

Worf, always thinking of security, turned to Riker, "I'm not sure if we have
a holding cell big enough for both of them, sir."

Riker looked back sarcastically, "Just confine him after the doctor is
through, Worf."

* * *

Geordi LaForge's quarters was dimly lit, soft jazz fills the air. A quaint
table is set with wine, cheese, and a covered pot in the center containing
the main dish, Moon-Jelly. Geordi, anticipating the evenings events, dances
back and forth making sure everything is just right.

The cabin doorbell rings, and a sinister smile takes over Geordi's face.
"Come in," his voice is friendly and confident.

The door slides open. Dr. Brahms hesitates due to this light, "Commander
LaForge?"

"Over here, I set the lights low for an intimate dinner."

She maked her way into the room. Her eyes begin to adjust when she noticed
the table. "It looks wonderful, you really didn't have to do this. I'm sorry
I yelled at you this afternoon."

"Hey, no problem, doc. Please sit down, everything is ready"

Leah smiled as she nibbled on some cheese. Geordi looked on, amazed that
anyone could be so desireable. Her face gestures as she eat were so lovely.
He stared, inspired by her beauty, he could just picture his cock stuffed
in her mouth instead of the cheese.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his daydream, "What, Leah?". She repeated herself
with a smile, "I said, how did you make the Moon-Jelly?"

"Oh," he appeared relived at an easy question, "I used a version our
replicator had. I remember thinking of you in particular while making it."
Geordi lifted the lid off the pot to reveal a bubling mess of rancid
gellatin. Both their faces became sour with the sight and smell which had
been contained by the lid.

"Computer!" Geordi yelled out, "What did I ask the replicator to make for
dinner?"

"You requested KY-Jelly, boiled," was the placid response.

"Oh shit," the sound of lost hope was in Geordi's voice.

Continued in chapter 3...

    

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