Once Lena had recovered from her ordeal at the firm hands of Captain Mora enough to collect herself, the reality of the situation she'd found herself in and what she had just gone through, came crashing down on her with the fullness of its weight. It was mortifying.
After her spanking, and the subsequent writhing on the Captain's hand to a resounding climax, Lena had felt a sense of calm and tranquility wash over her. Now though, now that the haze and temporary euphoria had worn off, she realized rather quickly how exposed and vulnerable she was at that very moment.
Half naked in the Captain's quarters, her bottom raw and throbbing from both the spanking and the whipping she'd received, and her inner thighs shamefully slick with her remnants of the orgasm forced upon her. She stood horrified at what had happened, frozen in place for a moment, all the while knowing she was still under the constant scrutiny of the Klingon woman who had broken her oh so thoroughly.
Lena felt the heated blush returning to her cheeks with a vengeance, hot enough to match the crimson marks lashed all across her backside. She hurriedly searched about the quarters for her panties and her uniform bottoms, shaking and trembling, unable to even glance in Captain Mora's general direction for fear of what she might see, or what she might do.
When she found them, her panties had apparently been nearly torn in two. There might have been a chance at salvaging them if she was given the time, but it wasn't something she wanted to even consider at the moment. All she wanted to do was cover up and flee from the scene as fast as possible.
It took a little bit more effort than she'd expected to redress herself. The very act of pulling her uniform bottoms back on and securing them into place was a painful experience. Her bottom and the backs of her thighs felt as if they'd been blistered raw. Even the slightest whispering touch seemed to send shockwaves of agony, and unfortunately for her, little tingles of pleasure that pulsed out from between her legs.
Once dressed, Lena risked a quick glance over towards the Captain, only to find the Klingon leaning back in the chair behind the desk, arms crossed beneath her ample breasts, staring that piercing predatory gaze in her direction. It was a look so intense, so intimately dangerous, that it nearly made Lena's knees buckle the moment she saw it.
With little more than a terrified squeak, Lena fled as fast as her legs could carry her from Captain Mora's presence, heedless of the quakes and aftershocks of agony that flooded her senses with every step. She had no intention of staying there any longer than she had to.
She nearly sprinted throughout the corridors of the ship, blind to the presence of the crew wandering through the ship all around her. She could feel the flushing heat crawling across her skin burning bright and hot as she darted down the winding corridors. Did they know, she wondered. Did the rest of the crew know what had just happened to her? What if they heard her, she thought in horror. It wasn't as if she'd been all that quiet. Not with how hard she had been spanked. That would have taken far more self control that she possessed, of that she was certain.
When she was safely back in her quarters, Lena took the time to catch her breath and relax a little before stripping down to the waist, and examining the results of Captain Mora's discipline of her. Her bottom was raw, tender to the touch, and covered in welts, bruises, and angry red stripes that crisscrossed and lashed all across the fullness of her backside.
She wasn't going to be able to sit comfortably for a week, she thought miserably. How did she let this happen to her, she wondered as she flung herself face-down onto the meager bed the Klingons had provided her. What did it say about her, not just as a Starfleet Officer, but as a person, that she had not just allowed, but in the end fully submitted to being bent over and spanked so very harshly by the Captain? And that was without even daring to contemplate what had happened afterwards.
In the end, exhaustion overtook her, and Lena drifted off to sleep, waking every so often to shift and squirm into positions as comfortable as her tender backside would allow. Throughout the night she dreamed. It was nothing coherent, mostly flashes of images, the spark of sensation rolling through her body again and again driving her to weary distraction. And when she awoke, she found, to her horror, a dewy wetness evident between her thighs.
What was wrong with her, she wondered miserably. Her whole body ached, her bottom was so sore that she was fairly certain a slight breeze would cause her agony, and yet her body had seemed to betray her in the night caused by dreams she could scarcely remember.
She quickly dressed, a task in and of itself, and found that every movement she made seemed to cause her uniform to rub her raw and welted bottom in just the right way to force her to bite her lip to keep from crying out. It was going to be a miserable day, she decided. She wasn't sure how she was going to get any of her duties done in the state she was in, but she was bound and determined to succeed. If, for no other reason than to avoid ending up anywhere near Captain Mora again. That thought alone was a strong motivator.
In spite of her worst fears however, the day and her duty shift went by reasonably well. Surprisingly enough, the next few days proceeded in much the same fashion. It took a bit of effort to successfully figure out how to accomplish her tasks when each and every move she made, let alone even trying to sit down, caused her such painful distress, but she managed.
In fact, and much to her surprise, she found herself reasonably able to ignore all the distractions all around her and focus as much as she was able solely on her work. Even her dealings with the rest of the Klingon crew seemed to be at least somewhat easier to manage.
Every time she'd begin to get overwhelmed by the frankly quite unsociable behaviors of the crew, all it seemed to take to keep her from getting flustered and making mistakes was to inadvertently move in just such a way that the aches and pains all along her tortured bottom sparked back to life. She found herself hissing under her breath and sharply biting her lip quite a bit because of it, but it was a sharp reminder to keep herself focused and on task.
The only drawback she could see with this new focus and attention to detail she had been given, was the way her thoughts seemed to drift unwanted towards the Captain every time she returned to her small sleeping space at the end of her shift. She'd been avoiding even being on the same deck as the Captain as much as possible just to prevent such things, but it wasn't working. Not as well as she'd wanted anyway.
It started off simple enough after the first night of her recovery. There was a lot of muttering and swearing involved, both of which she made a great deal of effort to ensure no one, especially Captain Mora, could hear. It didn't take long however for her thoughts to start to conjure up images of the fierce Klingon woman in her mind every spare moment she had to herself in her quarters.
Worse still, it didn't take long before the memories of what she'd endured at Captain Mora's hands began to fill her dreams and flood her thoughts when she was lone. She tried to fight it, but it seemed almost as if the more she resisted thinking of the Captain, the worse it got for her, and each morning she found herself waking to find herself slick and wet between her legs, her nether lips swollen and engorged in spite of everything she was doing to prevent such things.
Lena had tried to ignore it, she focused on her work as much as possible, but that only worked for so long, and denying herself any sort of release only seemed to serve to make her condition worse. By the end of the fourth day, even her work had started to suffer due to the constant nagging hunger and ache radiating from between her legs. What was wrong with her, she found herself asking far too many times during the day than she was entirely comfortable with.
By the fifth day, Lena was so desperate for some kind of release that she could barely stand it. Shed' raced back to her meager quarters at the end of her shift, sealed the door shut, and thrown herself onto the bed practically tearing her uniform bottoms and her panties off as she went.
Closing her eyes and taking a deep calming breath, she gently slid her hands slowly down the length of her body down to her most intimate of places. With only the very tips of her fingers, she began to stroke and caress the outer edges of her sex, teasing herself, giving herself time to relax and open up to the aching desire welling up within her.
With the first touch, to no surprise at all, Lena found herself already wet and achingly ready for attention. The touch of her fingers drifting up and down the edges of her lower lips send little shivering shocks throughout her body causing hoarse whispering little moans of pleasured hunger to begin emanating out from deep in the back of her throat.
She felt her hips began to lift up from the bed, bringing her hungry little sex closer to the touch of her fingers. Her back arched, her eyes rolled back, and she bit sharply on her lower lip to stifle the groaning moans of desperate pleasure from escaping loud enough for anyone near by to hear.
She brought herself right to the very edge, the whole of her sweat covered body trembling with need, and her skin flushed and heated with an intense desire that threatened to consume her whole. Her thumb brazenly grazed against her clit, the tips of her fingers dipping into the slick open and sliding deep within her body.
