Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Seven of Nine 2

by Sir Stephen

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2001 - Sir Stephen - Used by permission

Storycodes: n/a

Seven of Nine Self-Bondage Part Two
By Sir Stephen

When Belanna demanded that I beg to lick her female genitalia, I said "That is an unlikely event, Lieutenant."  Immediately, Lieutenant Torrez slapped my face, hard, with a red-latex-gloved right hand, and said "You will beg, or wear a gag while I torture you.  First, to apologize, you will drink my spittle."  She squeezed my face to open my mouth and let a long, slow drop of saliva drool towards my open mouth.  I tried to turn my face away, but her grip on my head was firm.  I found myself drinking a salty, long thread from Belanna's salivary glands. 

It tasted awful, but the humiliation of drinking someone's spittle was worse.  I tried to spit it out of my mouth but Belanna forced my mouth closed with her right hand and pinched my nose with her left.  Unable to breathe, I had to swallow to obtain her permission to breathe.  I felt like I was literally swallowing my pride.  "Belanna." I began, when she let me open my mouth, but her latex hand closed my mouth again and I heard her say "Why don't you call me what Tom calls me when I have him in bondage: Moistress."

"That is illogical," I said, and was rewarded with another hard latex slap.  "Computer - transport three of my dirtiest pairs of underwear to my coordinates in Holodeck Three."  As they appeared, Belanna asked for a "red rubber ballgag on a leather strap."  Soon this was securing her unclean garments in my unwilling mouth.   She tightened the leather strap behind my head with a strength I had not suspected from an Engineer - apparently her Klingon side took over during sexual situations and enabled her to transcend her human limitations.  I attempted to protest further, but was only able to say "mmmmnph" and similar nonsense.  As this seemed illogical, I desisted from further exclamations. 

Lieutenant Torrez continued, saying, "now that you're, speechless, I'll explain, while the taste of my panties gradually starts to become apparent to you.  I believe that you need a complete comeuppance, a term I learned from Tom recently.  Klingon sexuality, and even Klingon religion, is to a great extent centred around the transmission and reception of pain.  Klingons like to test each other and, based on the results of that test, to exchange power relations. "  I made a noise to indicate my complete understanding.  Toreez continued, saying, "When I noticed that you had - without my permission - obtained some of my piss to drink, I read your Holodeck program.  You asked it to humiliate, torture, and frustrate you for the complete duration of the session.  You did not specify exact procedures, but asked that the treatment be severe.  Tom and I have done so much similar programming that the Computer was able to draw upon a significant body of suggestions, as well as upon its volumes of erotic literature from human, Klingon, and other cultures. That's why you found yourself hooked up to a forced-drinking tube."

Torrez paused to change our setting: "Computer - create a king-sized four-poster bed with red latex sheets and transfer Seven to a spread-eagled position on her back tied tightly to the four posts."  In less time than it takes to say that sentence, I found myself in such a bed.  "Now," she continued, "alter the room to a 19th century New Orleans Earth boudoir with a mirrored ceiling."  Immediately the dungeon setting disappeared, and I was looking up at myself, still gagged, in the mirror.  Torrez then manoeuvred herself so that her crotch was positioned directly over my face.  I found my nose actually inside her vaginal orifice, a disconcerting situation to say the least.

"Now you can both smell and taste me," Torrez said, and you can better imagine what it would be like to obey me and lick my pussy."  Indeed, I could not help but notice that the tang of her panties was combining with a powerful aroma from the inside of her vagina.  Although the smell and taste were of course powerfully disgusting, I found myself against my will getting sexually aroused from the combined sensations.  Unfortunately, this did not escape Torrez' notice. 

"I see you like my taste and smell - good!" she said. "Tom has acquired quite a taste for my pussy, although I admit that his first taste of it was a bit much for him.  Apparently Klingon females exude approximately ten times the human quantity of pheromones,  smell, and pussy juice, and in that respect I seem to be completely Klingon.  At first taste, Tom nearly gagged.  When I had my first female ejaculation in his mouth, he thought I was peeing in him.  Of course, when I actually did pee in his mouth, he realized his mistake. Now he is completely addicted to both my pussy juice and my pee, so that when we are separated I am obliged to leave him with bottled supplies of both to drink before going to bed."

"I think," she continued, "that I will simply grind myself on your face and order the program to torture you until you let me know that you are ready to eat me like a good slavegirl. - Computer: commence Tom Paris subroutine named hot wax 1."

Immediately simultaneous drops of hot wax seemed to drip out of nowhere onto three parts of my body: my clitoris, and the two aureoles of my breasts.  Every five seconds, a new drop appeared.  However, while real wax would now be coating my sensitive areas and thus partially insulating them from the new wax, this holographic wax had conveniently deleted itself just in time for the succeeding drops.   I was still wearing nipple clamps, but apparently in order to allow me to concentrate on the wax, Torrez said, "Delete nipple clamps and increase frequency to one drop per second." 

While the previous frequency had been exciting, the frequency of one drop per second severely tested the limits of my tolerance for discomfort.  "Remember," Torrez said, "all you have to do is let me know you are ready, and I will turn those drops of wax into tongues for your pleasure." 

I held out for what seemed like an hour.  I now realize it cannot have been longer than ten minutes.  Still, that would have been six hundred drops of hot wax on my bare, still-unwaxed genitals and nipples.  If you think you can take more than that, report to a Holodeck or Holosuite and attempt to do so. 

I nodded my head as well as I could with Torrez' weight firmly on my nose, and attempted to say, "I will comply" through the ballgag.  What came out, of course, was more like "yyllummy." 

Torrez was prompt.  "Computer - cease hot wax subroutine and commence Torrez licking subroutine one." 

Immediately, the wax changed to wet tongues, to the significant relief of my breasts and clitoris. I began to hope that I would actually achieve sexual climax, a condition I had never known. 

Next, I heard "Computer - delete ball gag."  I opened my mouth, and to my relief Torrez removed the wadded, pungent panties.  "Computer - transport these back to their previous location," she said, and they were gone.  "Tom will enjoy having them in his mouth later," she explained, "with the combination of your saliva and my pussy juice, he'll be sure to get hard."

I started to contemplate Tom Paris having a full erection, but Torrez was now shifting her Venus mons from my nose to my lips, and I was confronted with the full taste and olfactory sensation of her apparently completely Klingon sex. 

I had had some idea of what a woman's vaginal secretions would be like from having surreptitiously tasted my own during various sonic showers.  I had even grown somewhat fond of the sensation of my own secretions being inserted into my mouth.  But these experiences plus having tasted her used underwear for some minutes did not prepare me for the full impact of her intense female aroma and taste.  What had I let myself in for by agreeing to this procedure?  But I had agreed.  My only words were "I will comply" before her sex closed over my mouth like a vice. 

 My tongue was sucked into her vagina as if it had been standing too near an airlock that lost its seal.  I wasn't sure whether it was me probing Torrez so deeply, or my tongue working with a mind of its own. 

I think that having lived for so long as a part of the Borg collective prepared me for this sudden sensation of becoming a tool for someone else's will.  It was as much a surprise to me as anyone when I let out a soft whimper of contentment as Belanna's intensely bitter secretions began to insinuate themselves down my throat.   I had to swallow frequently to keep up with my tormentor's copious secretions.  What made it difficult was the sort of magnetic attraction, which kept my tongue so far up her vagina. 

"Your tongue makes a poor cock," Torrez commented.  "I want you to lick my clit, and I want you to say 'yum yum' with deep reverence every thirty seconds or so, starting right now."  "Yum, yum" I said, as if I were saying, "I adore you" to the galaxy itself.  I had never felt this way before.  As I started to lick around and around Belanna's clitoris, I sensed her tense with passion.  I speculated as to what it would feel like to have our roles reversed, and, as if reading my mind, Belanna said, "Do a good job, Seven, and I'll let you dominate me next time!"  Her breath was becoming ragged already. 

I don't know how many times I brought Lieutenant Belanna Torrez to orgasm, but it was more than ten and less than one hundred.  I kept saying "Yum, yum" the entire time, but, strangely, I did not feel like as much of an idiot as it sounds.  It sounded almost. Profound.

The program licking my own clitoris and nipples had been designed, like my own, to stop short of giving me the same release.  At last, dripping with her own secretions and my ardent saliva, Belanna lifted her genitals off of my face.  "Now I have a special task for you," Belanna said.  When I get horny my ass gets messy.  I'd rather not wipe it myself.  Instead, I want to hear you beg me to let you rim my beautiful bottom!"

"Yes, Moistress," I said, and then began to beg, as follows:

"Moistress, it would give me great pleasure to insert my tongue in your rectum and pleasure you with it for as long as you like." 

"Stop!" she said.  "You have to learn to talk like a slut if you're going to act like one! Now, try again!"  She positioned her cheeks and anus just inches from my mouth to act as an incentive.  Although I would normally be revolted by such a prospect I confess it had the most amazing appeal to me at the time.  I tried, somewhat haltingly, to sound like someone other than myself. 

"Moistress, every part of you is sweet.
  Your pussy was the nicest treat
   I have ever known, but now
   I with to learn - please show me how -
   To pleasure you behind, below.
   Teach my tongue the way to go
   So that I may please you where
   Others do not dream or dare.
   I wish to stay between your cheeks
   For minutes, hours, days, and weeks!
   A pleasant task!  Moistress, how cush
   To keep my tongue inside your tush,
   Your ass is curvy, soft, and deep.
    I see it, and I wish to weep
    For joy - I simply can't express
    The spiritual happiness
    I feel - if this is not too crass,
    Moistress, make me rim your ass!"

As her bottom lowered, I could sense the smile on her face.  It was more than a smile - it contained a smirk, a grin, and an expression of triumph.  I became her seat, and the world went dark.  I shut my eyes as the pressure of her nether cheeks pressed down upon me.

Time stopped -- my internal chronometer has been off-line since I left the Borg - and I had no way to measure minutes or hours.  My nose was pressed on the flat space just above her anus, and my tongue was inside her earthy orifice.  I could not breathe through my mouth, so I had to inspire in gasps as she relented occasionally in the constant pressure she exerted on my face.  I was being smothered by Lieutenant Belanna Torrez's bottom, and I didn't mind it one bit!

End of Part Two

The Story continues in
Part Three
If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
selfbondage stories