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This story contains fictitious descriptions of graphic, sexual practice and
should only be read by adults. If you are not at least 18 years of age,
please do not read. Star Trek Voyager and all associated characters are
copyright of Paramount.



Star Trek - Voyager: Slave Dealings Part 12 (F-mast,F-dom,humil,exhib)
by Natalie Croft ([email protected])

It was the beginning of the week and time for Janeway to customarily clean
her quarters. Of course she wouldn't be doing the cleaning herself. She had
invited Lt. Torres to stop by for another evening. Torres had little choice
in the matter. She had been contracted to the Captain to fulfil whatever
wish Janeway desired, getting back in return some pleasure of her own. But
things were soon taking a strange turn. If B'Elanna backed out now, she knew
her career, maybe even her life, could be over. Katherine Janeway had a
secretly ferocious temper. The klingon engineer obediently showed up at the
suite and sat with her captain on the soft sofa, ready to do whatever she was
told. Her only comfort was in knowing that she was at least treated better
than Katherine's other slave. Seven of Nine was the underling. Even B'Elanna
had domination rights over that woman.

"Where is Seven?" asked Torres.

Janeway ran a hand through her silky hair. "Cleaning my rooms. Let me get
her."

The captain whistled loudly and the bedroom door swished open. The Amazonian
borg tottered into the living area. Torres could see that the astrometrics
officer was currently in her role as the captain's maid. Seven was wearing an
extremely short french maid uniform, her jugs heaving against the material
and her endless legs, dressed in fishnet stockings, leading down to a pair of
thin stilettos. The lacey petticoat billowed out above her gartered thighs.
In an unusual act, Janeway had allowed Seven to wear panties for once, even
though they were a semi-transparent pair of ruffled knickers. The borg was
keeping a relaxed expression, but something in her eyes revealed her true
shame. Janeway motioned for her to stand before them.

"Seven, show Mistress Torres how we entertain guests."

Seven of Nine positioned herself in front of B'Elanna and then raised her
feather duster up between her cleavage. She gently stroked the duster over
her chest, then raised her arms above her head and began to sway her hips.
Torres had yet to see one of the famous lap-dances, but was soon treated
to the spectacle. Seven danced seductively as Janeway left the sofa to
"fetch something from her room". B'Elanna watched silently as Seven began
to rub her crotch over Torres's thigh.

By the time Janeway returned, Seven had her hands down her panties and was
rapidly massaging her snatch.

"She won't stop until she cums," said the captain proudly.

The horny maid finally proceeded to turn around and bend over lewdly. Her
sweat and juices had soaked through her knickers and were running down her
stockings. Seven stared at Torres from between her legs. B'Elanna had to
admit that the display was impressive and had even aroused her quite a bit,
but she still wasn't sure why she had been called on today. It wasn't long
before she had her answer.

Katherine ordered Torres to go over to the dining table, drop her Starfleet
pants and spread her hands over the glass surface. As she did, the captain
grabbed Seven by her lace collar and roughly pulled her towards the table as
well. The maid's face was pushed down against the surface and Janeway yanked
the soggy knickers down around her clammy thighs. Both Torres and Seven were
soon bent over, their bare bottoms exposed to their mistress.

"May I ask what my mistress intends to do?" asked B'Elanna, hoping that a
paddle or whip would be involved.

"No, you may not," came the reply.

The two vulnerable officers waited anxiously. Together, they heard a loud
buzzing behind them. At first, Torres assumed that this was another vibrator
violation. But curiously, the humming grew louder and whatever tool Janeway
was holding began to slide over her left buttock. Following the odd sensation
came a sudden burning as if a hot pin was being dragged over her naked flesh.
Torres almost bucked in surprise but kept her cool.

Captain Janeway purred. "Good, that's it. Don't move. Trust me, you don't
want me to make a mistake."

Torres and Seven looked up from the table to the large wall mirror hanging in
front of them. In it, they could see their own uneasy faces and the captain
behind them. They couldn't see what she was doing, but something about the
"making a mistake" comment left them wondering whether the device in her hand
was dangerous in some way. Then, while continuing her task, Janeway began to
explain.

"You two whores are my property now, so I think its best that I keep it that
way. Just so that you don't get forget it, I'm tattooing you with your
official titles."

B'Elanna breathed heavily against the glass. She never imagined she would be
branded like cattle. If another klingon ever heard about this, she would be
never be allowed to set foot on Qo'nos again. The dishonour of being lowered
to the rank of an animal was taken even more seriously to klingons than to
humans. At least physical mutilation could easily be corrected with modern
day science, she thought. A simple skin cleansing kit from sickbay would
remove any visible marks. Torres relaxed despite the obvious burning touch
of the laser. Janeway could have her fun.

Eventually, the captain had finished her work on Torres's buttocks and
reached under Seven's petticoat. The borg flinched at first, but then settled
down and gritted her teeth as the lazer needle travelled over her skin.

"By the way, B'Elanna. Do you remember that branding torch you devised a few
months back? That one we used to label our cargo tubs and parts of the ship?"

"Yes, Captain."

B'Elanna remembered that. She had been asked to engineer a torch that could
mark metal hull platings and other materials. The device had to be simple to
use but effective enough so that any markings it made couldn't be removed.
The idea was that Voyager could reclaim any cargo or pieces of its ship in
the event of scavengers stealing parts. Torres remembered the dull and
tiresome task of having to work her way around the entire vessel for two
days, climbing in and out of jeffries tubes and up and down ladders to subtly
mark the major or more important parts of the ship. On top of that, she had
had to keep a register of every label. She wouldn't want to repeat all that
again. It was a wonder why she had even invented such a device in the first
place...

Torres's eyes bulged and her head sprang up. In the mirror, Janeway was
grinning back with a wink. The buzzing of the laser needle stopped abruptly.
The klingon watched in horror as Janeway's reflection held up the device in
her hand. Seven of Nine looked typically clueless and let out a sigh of
relief that the pain had ended.

"Thanks for inventing this thing," said Katherine, "now I won't have to worry
about losing you."

"No," mumbled B'Elanna, "..n..no..you...didn't.."

Captain Janeway placed the small tool down and picked up another mirror,
holding it close to their butts so that they could see the results. The two
women gawked at the reflection of their own branded rumps. They read the
backwards lettering, slowly realising their new titles now permanently
etched into them. B'Elanna wanted to scream. According to her butt, she was
JANEWAY'S BITCH, an indignity that would stay with her for the rest of her
life.

Meanwhile, Seven of Nine was given a glimpse of how she'd be spending her
future under the Captain's thumb. Clearly, Janeway had plans to degrade the
blond in the most demeaning of ways. Seven had hoped that those few days she
had spent in diapers were over. But now, she was officially her mistress's
POO SLUT. An ordeal of toilet humiliation awaited her.

Katherine Janeway gave them both a minute to let the discomfort fully
register on their faces before hoisting Seven back to a standing position
and instructing Torres to put her pants back on.

"B'Elanna, you can go back to your quarters now. Your next session will be
tomorrow. Don't worry. I have alot of painful games in mind."

Lt. Torres prodded her scarred cheeks with a finger. She picked her trousers
up and dressed herself, lost for words.

"Now, my little french tart," Janeway smirked at Seven as the slender fair
maid looked down at the floor, trying to cover her ass with her hands,
"you've got some more cleaning to do." The captain grabbed Seven's wrists
and pulled her arms back in front of her. "How's that tongue of yours?"

"My tongue is ready to serve you, my Queen," Seven replied.

"Good. Because Neelix's caramel brownies seems to be disagreeing with me and
I'm fresh out of paper."

Janeway took her stunning maid by the hand and led her to the bathroom. The
door hissed shut. B'Elanna left as fast as she could.

    

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