Startre Voyager: Lingon Seed

The Federation starship Voyager sat motionless in the starlit sky. Numerous small fires were burning brightly and parts of the hull were flickering, the smoldering embers glowing like evil eyes. Although motionless and burning the starship was not critically damaged for the attack, though short, had been carried out with expert military precision, the laser fire superbly targeted on the nacelles. It therefore rendered the ship inoperable within mere seconds. After that, boarding her had been easy.

Two alien vessels hovered nearby. One, the primary attacker, was a bird of prey, the Klingon cruiser Porragh. The other was considerably dwarfed by the other two and was manned by a handful of Ferengis. Its origin, though, was not that of Ferengi design.

Several Klingon warriors and one Ferengi held Voyager's bridge crew in check with their phasers. Well, not the Ferengi. He just hid behind the backs of two huge Klingons, periodicaly peeking past them to gaze at the Federation captives. They had transported themselves directly on to the bridge, phasers blasting. Now several bodies cluttered the floor.

Captain Katherine Janeway stared crestfallen at her dead shipmates. Two huge Klingons held her by the arms, their phasers at her back. She stared helplessly at Commander Tuvak who was the only crewman left alive. Tuvak lay crumpled behind his console, nursing a wounded shoulder. His face was, as always, expressionless.

Janeway shook her head. The battle had been lost. Her crew was still fighting off the Klingon attackers below decks, but they were short, ineffective attempts. Although there was no one manning the communications console, reports were steadily filtering in. The crewman manning the post had been shot down before he could switch it off. It was total bedlam---shrill screams, blood curdling cries and the swish of phaser fire echoed through the bridge.

Commander Tuvak rose groggily to his feet. A Klingon warrior rammed his phaser none too gently in his ear. "Stand still, Vulcan swine!"

"Someone please turn that infernal noise off." A gigantic Klingon approached Janeway with a sneer. He was almost seven feet tall and had a massive chest and the shoulders of an ox. His sun-darkened tan and the dark goatee beard hardly hid the numerous scars that were etched on his craggy face. "I am Commander Org, from the house of Bro'Mar. You are undoubtedly my prisoner." He had a deep resounding voice. Janeway's eyes blazed at him. "How dare you attack a Federation ship? The Klingons are our allies! This is an act of treason! You've murdered half of my crew! What is the meaning of this?"

Org turned his head but briefly. "Silence, woman!" One could see that Org was not a man easily taken off his stride. "Yes. We are Klingons. True Klingons do not bow to the Federation. We spit on the Federation! What a pack of whining, peace-loving simpletons! It is unfortunate that our government signed that ridiculous pact. We are renegades, Captain, and we will see to it that our world is restored to its once glorious presence. The capture of your ship is but a mere trifle compared to the victories we are yet to accomplish. But it is a start."

Janeway glared at him angrily. "What is it that you want?"

Org shrugged his massive shoulders. "Ah. What I want? That is an immaterial question. I already have what I want. Your ship and its technologies are now mine. In one, small swoop, I have doubled my armada. A bit costly, perhaps, as I did not have all that many men to begin with. Now I most certainly have less. But I intend to receive compensation." He turned and spoke to a Klingon warrior. "Doran! Take the men and go below. Clean this mess up. Round up the humans and lock them in separate cargo bays, females in one and males in the other. There's always some use for females, eh? The males, however, are expendable. Execute five male crewmen for every fallen Klingon you've found. These humans will learn to obey."

Tuvak spoke up. "I must interject. This is highly illogical. How can you . . ."

A dozen Klingon phasers fired at once. Tuvak disintegrated into a billion parts. Org slapped his thigh and burst out with a deep and resounding sarcastic laugh. He gazed around the bridge and nodded at his companions. "Now that, my friends, was extremely logical!" The Klingons roared with laughter. The Ferengi, for the most part, seemed indifferent and just hovered behind his Klingon bodyguard, nervously wringing his hands.

Janeway was visibly shaken. "Murderous bastard!" She turned her head and stared angrily at the grotesque and squat figure of the Ferengi whose head appeared from behind a Klingon. "You! A Ferengi! What is your part in this?"

The Ferengi bowed slightly. "Ah. The Ferengi are always present when there is a profit to be made." H scurried forward with his lopsided gait and tugged at Org's sleeve. "That reminds me. I do believe there is a matter we must settle. I have yet to be paid for my services. After all, it was I who lead you to Voyager."

Org brushed off the Ferengi's hand like one would a pestering fly. "Yes, yes. There are many valuable items on board a vessel of such magnitude. Any bauble you fancy may be yours to keep. Take what you wish."

The Ferengi shook his head and rubbed his hands. "No. Although that would be profitable indeed, I must pass. This time around I am not interested in baubles. There is only one thing that I'd like to have. I have been hired to obtain it by a party I wish not to disclose. It should bring me a tidy sum indeed."

Org gave him a cold stare. "What would that be?"

At this exact moment Seven of Nine came running out of the turbo lift. Her blond hair was a mess and her uniform was torn. "Captain? Are you alright?" Several Klingons moved towards her, phasers in hand but stopped at the Ferengi's shrill command. "No!" The Ferengi fumbled in a pocket and produced a device. He scampered forward quickly. "Excellent. What exquisite timing!" He pressed a button on the device and he and Seven of Nine vanished into thin air. He had transported himself and Seven of Nine off the bridge before anyone knew what had happened.

The Klingons spun around. A longhaired Klingon grinned. "It seems our Ferengi friend has delved into slave trading. That one should bring him quite a bundle."

"It is if no consequence. At least we're finally rid of him." Org stared at his warriors and clapped his hands. "Be off! Help Doran round up the humans. Then enjoy yourselves. I am sure there will be plenty of females to keep you busy." He squeezed Janeway's shoulder with a massive hand and she winced. The pain of his fat fingers digging into her flesh almost brought her to her knees. "This one's mine. See to it that I'm not interrupted."

He gave her a push and she stumbled across the bridge. She was confused and badly shaken and her head was unclear. She realized that Org would probably try to beat Voyager's command secrets out of her and she gagged at the thought. She was a skilled combatant, trained in many forms of martial arts, but she was no match for this gigantic Klingon who towered nearly two feet above her. He would certainly break every bone in her body!

Org pushed her again. "Move!" She cried out again as the force of the Klingon's shove hurled her against the sliding door of her ready room. She bounced off it and fell to her knees. She was now close to sobbing. She gave him a frightened look, cringed against the door and massaged her sore shoulder. Ideas were racing desperately through her mind as she tried to come up with a plan to get her out of this predicament.

Org approached her quickly. Wordlessly he sank one of his huge hands into her pinned up hair and yanked her brutally to her feet. She screamed as his fat fingers practically tore a few strands of her tight bun out by the roots, and the pain momentarily blinded her.

The electronic sensors of the door system picked up their presence. With a swoosh they opened, revealing the splendid and well-furnished décor of Janeway's bridge quarters. Org dragged the helpless woman into the room by her hair and hurled her onto the floor. With another swoosh the doors slid shut behind them. Janeway collapsed with a muted cry. Org stepped up behind her and drew her up to her knees. She struggled, but an absentminded cuff across the left cheek assured her obedience. When Org slapped somebody, even only lightly, that particular person was immediately half dazed. This was indeed the case again: Janeway saw nothing but stars.

Org placed both his huge hands on her shoulders, pinning her down. "Kneel, female!" While his victim knelt half-comatose, her upper body slightly slumped forward, Org began to peel off his numerous weapons. He placed them carefully out of her reach and shrugged off his leather battle dress. He was a real hulk of a humanoid creature with bulging forearms the size of tree trunks and a massive, muscular chest strong and firm enough to ward off any blow. At six-foot-eight and over three hundred pounds, he was as tall and as powerful as a twentieth century grizzly bear. He sported a vast mane of black curls, unkempt and unwashed. An overall dirty and vile stench emanated from his body. It was a typical Klingon smell and Janeway was used to it. She didn't like it, though. He was even more vile-smelling than any Klingon she'd ever met. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and waited for another blow that would knock her to the deck again. Why did her have her kneel? What was he doing behind her? She turned her head but another slap made her head spin. "Don't move!"

Org bent over her, placed his left hand under her chin and lifted her head up. She gave a startled shriek as her head was torn up with such force that her spine almost snapped. At least it felt like it did. Org clamped the hand around her jaw and held her head firm. With the other hand Org began to feverishly pull and pluck at the hairpins that held Janeway's reddish hair up. She was too weak and too dazed to struggle and allowed him to yank and pull at her hair. The huge Klingon strained his hand through her fine hair, pulling out hairpins and pieces of hair alike until his hand moved freely through the silken tresses. "Hair is part of being female," he grunted, "and should be worn loose." He fluffed her hair out, spreading the mane across her shoulders. "What odd females you humans are. You trim and shape your hair in the most outlandish manner and cover yourself with horrible, ill-suited garments that hide everything from view. Are you ashamed of your body, woman?"

Katherine Janeway whitened. He did not want to beat the crap out of her until she revealed military secrets? He had something else in mind? Was it possible? Did humanoids still force their desires on others? And she knew that the Klingons, a mean and brutal warrior race, practiced their sex like animals, teeth barred, snarling and howling; the actual act bloody and violent. She shuddered involuntarily. She turned her head and stared up at him and her eyes filled with tears. She had accepted the fact that he might beat her senseless, but the thought of that ugly creature's hands roaming over her body and the thought of him on top of her was too much to bear. "Please. I have lost my ship. It's over. Kill me now. Make it swift."

Org gave a hearty laugh. "Bah! How typically human. No backbone, no courage. It's like herding sheep! If you were a man I'd slay you on the spot without a moment's hesitation. But you're a female. No, I won't kill you. I have other uses for you."

"Oh God! No!" Janeway emitted a shrill cry as his huge hands encompassed her shoulders again. This time he slipped them down a bit and his fingers curled into the black hem of her red uniform. With one powerful yank he tore his arms apart. The red top was ripped off her upper body in a mere second, the heavy material actually splitting down her front and back leaving the Klingon with two pieces of the torn garment in his huge hands. He flung the stuff behind him and gave her a push so that she fell forward with a cry. He immediately fell to his knees behind her and sank his hands into the waistline of her red slacks. He yanked and tore at it, peeling the pants down her shapely legs until he had removed it off her completely.

Janeway screamed and shrieked. Her arms hooked into the plush carpet as she tried to catapult herself away from him, legs kicking out behind her. Her boots had indeed connected several times with her attackers chest and arms, but the blows had no apparent effect on the huge Klingon.

Org grabbed a handful of her reddish mane and yanked her around, spinning her around hundred and eighty degrees so that she lay on her back in front of his feet. All she was wearing now, besides her little black boots, were white bikini briefs and a short, sleeveless silk camisole top. Her plump 36C breasts, braless, slumped a bit to the sides. They were not overly large but filled the silken top nicely just the same, full and round, yet not as firm as they once had been.

Org planted a booted foot on her stomach and pinned her down. He leaned on her a little and she gave a cry and tried to push his foot off her. "Many a man in this galaxy has dreamt of this moment," Org grunted. He held her panic stricken eyes locked for a moment and grinned down at her. "The illustrious Captain Janeway, arrogant and self-important, lying half naked and completely helpless at the feet of the victor. I am a fortunate man indeed. This is a moment of history! I will enjoy breaking you, Captain. Very much so."

Janeway clawed at his boot. "Please! Let me go!"

Org laughed deeply. "Perish the thought. I haven't enjoyed a female in months. You're not a Klingon female, but I suppose you'll have to do." He removed his foot, bent down and scooped his beefy arms around her waist and lifted her to her feet. Janeway hung limply in his powerful arms. Org was immensely huge. Although at five-foot-six she wasn't small or tiny, she felt utterly dwarfed by this giant of a man. Comparatively speaking, it was as if she was a small child being crushed against her father's chest.

Org let go of her waist, grabbed her slender right arm instead and dragged her across the floor towards her desk. With his free hand he swept the items that cluttered her desk onto the floor. Janeway tugged at his huge forearm and kicked out at him. Org gave a grunt of annoyance and gave her such a slap that she reeled drunkenly against the side of the desk. Her legs gave out and she fell groggily to her knees. "Silly female! Stop this foolishness." His large hands went around her waist again and he lifted her up high, spun her around and plopped her down on the edge of the desk, legs dangling over the side. He brushed her thighs apart and stepped in closer.

Katherine Janeway shook her head to clear the numbness that overtook her. She was half dazed, the tears and the stinging pain of her cheek blinding the vision of her left eye. Org reached out and tore the thin, silky camisole off her body with one, brutal tug. She screamed as she was thus exposed to him. Her plump breasts shook as the garment was torn from her.

Org quickly gazed at her body. She was no longer young, but for a woman approaching forty, her body was not displeasing. Org discovered that although the body of this female was small in comparison to Klingon females in size and body proportions, he found himself excited by the color of her hair. Klingon females were all dark-haired and he found the lighter colored hair, whether brown, blonde or red of the human female very alluring. Janeway's hair was especially pleasing to him----the thin and silky smooth texture of her strawberry blonde hair that billowed across her shoulders like a velvet curtain made his Klingon blood boil.

Org gave a deep grunt, bared his teeth at her and emitted a deep howling sound. Janeway shuddered as she noticed his fang-like incisors that gave his mouth a dog-like appearance. What a revolting creature! Org gave another grunt, shot up an arm and sank his hand into her smooth hair and tilted her head back with a quick tug. She shrieked as he bent down and began to lick at her exposed throat. His tongue, long and pliable like that of an animal, rasped repeatedly against her smooth skin. It felt as if a cat was licking her!

The Klingon licked her throat, her neck and her entire face while he simultaneously grunted and groaned, one hand holding her head back, the other clenched tightly around her right shoulder. It was more a wet slapping than a licking. Her head was being shoved from side to side as the huge, rasp-like tongue slipped over her skin. He was holding her tightly pressed against him, her rounded breasts being squished together against his large chest, creating a deep cleavage while he licked at her face like a mother cat would its kitten. The sounds of his short grunts, her muted cries and the dripping sound of his saliva running down into the valley of her breasts echoed through the room.

Org licked and slobbered over her face and throat while Janeway sobbed with terror. Her fingernails were cutting deep gashes into his massive forearms, but it did not prevent the Klingon from continuing his task. He either did not feel the burning pain of her sharp nails or simply chose to ignore it. He lapped at her ears and drew his wet tongue over the side of her head, matting her hair with his sticky saliva. She almost threw up as his fat tongue slipped across her mouth. The strength of his tongue was amazing. He actually managed to force her lips apart with it, and she screamed as he forced it deep into her mouth. She gagged as the huge, slippery alien tongue swished about inside the cavity of her mouth. This disgusting Klingon was Frenching her! His breath was gross and his saliva was dripping off her chin, falling into the deep puddle that had collected between her squished breasts.

Org continued to swirl his tongue around in her mouth. She had never felt anything like it. His tongue must have been at least seven inches long and he had all of it deep inside her mouth, the curled tip jabbing the back of her throat. Not only did his huge tongue block her windpipe, but also the tickling sensation of the pointed tip jabbing at her tonsils and her pharynx made her gag. It took her breath away and her face turned slowly blue from lack of oxygen. Fortunately he was intent of moving it in and out of her so that she was able to draw in breaths of air. The smell of him was nauseating!

Org was now lapping at her mouth and chin with long, quick jabs. He had released her head and shoulders and now slipped his hands between their bodies to cup her breasts. He gave a surprised grunt and shook his head. "You human females are so scrawny," he commented dryly and Janeway cried out as she felt the huge hands sink into the tender flesh of her breasts. "Such small breasts. Such small bodies. You are no match for a Klingon male! You will suffer greatly."

Janeway groaned in agony as the Klingon brutally pulled at her breasts and lapped at her face with his tongue. She cried out again as Org fondled her breasts, rubbing them with his huge paws. Org was more used to Klingon female's breasts which were rarely smaller than an E-cup. The smaller size of this human female puzzled him greatly. He squeezed and massaged them viciously, yanking them back and forth. His fat thumbs slid repeatedly over her nipples and she cried out.

Org leaned back a bit, sucked in his tongue and stared at her breasts. He cupped her rounded breasts and held on tightly. He began to milk her, yanking at her plump breasts so brutally that her body was being flung back and forth. Janeway flung her head about and shrieked as the Klingon pumped away at her breasts, his fingers mashing into the tender flesh like claws. Org mistook her wildly swinging head with the dancing red mane and her shrieks as sign of pleasure and increased the force of his pulling. Her body was now being insanely yanked back and forth. Soon she couldn't shriek anymore, her throat dry. Org continued tearing and ripping at her breasts for a considerable time, the soft flesh oozing out between his fingers. He drew her body back and forth, his hand tightly clenched around her breasts. He let go off them and started to slap them about with his huge hands, the slaps reverberating through the room like gunshots. Her breasts danced about from left to right and she cried out with shock and pain as his hands alternately slapped and squeezed them. He then rolled her nipples in his fat fingers and pinched and tweaked them, yanking the sensitive protrusions far off her breasts and then letting go so that they snapped back like a rubber band. Janeway howled and shrieked as the huge Klingon manhandled her breasts. After twenty minutes of this onslaught her breasts turned red and began to swell. The veins were so gorged with blood that her breasts ballooned into a full cup size larger, the flesh throbbing and her small nipples now swollen and sticking out like grapes.