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Star Trek: Debt verseXsparklemuffin

She wasn't the kind of belligerent that she would try to move to get her frustrations out, even if it couldn't lead to her freedom. Not anymore. No. She let him pose her as he wanted, and keep her legs away with the stick, and perhaps suppress her breathing with the pressure a little. Her fight was long waning, and he liked seeing it in all its stages. It let his piques reach her better than it would if she had been in her full blown rebellion. Jessica was at the end of her spunk, used and abused, and he longed to see more of it, to see what depths he could plunge her into. To see what other things he could turn her into, now that she and all her iterations belonged to him because of her crimes against honor.

"A Klingon would have taken my cocks with more grace. You wouldn't have needed a gun then." while true on a surface level, he'd been with women of his own race and had them livid because of his... designs. It was a merit to be hard to handle, but females were warned about Meymat exactly because of this. He was not about to extend an excuse like that to this fallen agent. She had not deserved the allowances of his own kind. Admittedly, her cunt and ass had broken in a better way than that of Klingon women. To think humans could only best other by being worse than them.

She got to scream and give compliments to the gun that hurt her. He saw it go through her again. And then horror when he put it in her well trained ass and pulled again. A blink of resignation of death in her eyes, which he loved, and then, when that too had subsided, she was haunted by all this, the little parcel of flesh on the grid floor, more than at his whims. It seemed the gun did better in her ass. He liked the way she gulped for more oxygen, and his icy eyes kept studying her. He thought of another way of hurting her. Humans had such attachment to honor too, even if they played at being pragmatic beyond it.

He stood up, which let her legs free when he brought the stik along. He left the gun in her ass, though, and looked down. From what he could see her spirit was in a dismal low, and her physical strength wasn't far after. She was in a more complacent mood now. He'd put it to the test. His cocks were still out. "Up on your knees." A good human girl would know not to take the gun out of her ass when she started cleaning his steere and bano of her ass and cunt juices. If she decided to try to use the gun on him, a swift hit from the stick to the shoulder of her gunarm would relive her of it, if she relived her ass of it to begin. He wouldn't hold out to spite her if she chose the right thing, just some tribute from her hands and mouth would reward her with jets of his cum to lather her crying face. The quality of Klingon seed had different effects on different races. And after, if she'd been good enough, he'd let her enter unconsciousness by herself. "Pull the trigger." he offered her, as the last jolt into her ass would send her off, and they could pick this up when she woke again. The point would be, though, that she'd done it to herself, on his order.
 
When the stik was removed, Jess let her legs ease away from her chest. Every movement hurt; the pain inside left her damaged -- as if every inch of her holes had been invaded and scoured... In a sense they had, in more ways than one. When her legs settled they were splayed, like a frog on its back. She needn't care how gracefully a Klingon woman would have taken his assault. He was only rubbing it in, how poorly she'd held up. For all her training, falling apart after one session was a poor performance for a Section 31 Agent.

But that was far from her mind. Jessica lay there, fighting to breathe, and trembling -- surprised to find herself alive. With the gun still in her ass, and her captor looming above her, beckoning her to her knees. She would have to be an idiot to even try for the gun again... A Klingon would. Her training told her to fight. It was the duty of a Section 31 Agent to get free... By any means necessary.

Jessica moved slowly. She rolled to her side to get to her hands and knees, and crawled to face him. She rose up on her knees, eye level with his erections. The pistol remained in her ass, untouched... Jess was exhausted, and it showed in her eyes and her shallow breaths. She began with the steere, licking and slurping around his largest member; her focus was more on getting the job done than on his enjoyment, but her exhaustion made the process slow enough to draw it out. Next was the lower bano; which was easier to accomplish without the ridges to clean around and beneath.

A face full of Klingon cum was her first reward for completing the task. She wiped her eyes clear and fought the exhaustion... Jess looked at him strangely when he ordered her to pull the trigger. The gun was still in her ass. Even on stun it could kill her -- and she swore she'd heard him flick the switch higher. Fresh tears stun her eyes immediately. "I... I..." Jessica began to plead.

Her eyes fell to floor, her lower lip trembled... Jessica took a few deep breaths and reached behind herself. It took a moment to feel around and find the trigger, but she stared her captor in the eye when she squeezed...

After several seconds of unbridled agony, Jessica Nellis lost consciousness.
 
He stayed vigilant on her for all of it. Her unfolding first, when he let her. Even though it was inelegant, he thought it was a flattering splay. It showed off her anatomy, and he knew she was beautiful for a human, and tried to appreciate the motherly functions of her curves. He could like them as a biological machine, he supposed, but more than that he liked the expression she wore when he shamed her. Even if he'd beaten her training, her own pride was still there to be hurt, though it couldn't fuel any more rebellion. For someone who'd only lasted one encounter in this room, she did rather well, in that she'd been entertaining. She hadn't fallen into any of the pitfalls that might bore him, and discard her into whatever death had been most practical at any given moment.

He thought there was a sulking sullenness that added to the sluggishness of her motions ontop of being in pain. He looked down as the woman got up and eventually got started on her given task. He liked the obedience so far. It wasn't hard won, considering. "While not a warrior by any means, perhaps you can find some triumph in slavery? Your lack of honor suits it." he complimented and growled low in his throat when she started using her soft and slick parts to attend to his cocks. Her tongue was agile, he had to say, and scooped up her own leavings rather well. Leave it to a 31 agent to be meticulous. He honored her in turn by painting her with the seed she was vying for. There was a healthy amount of it, and he liked how it mingled with her hair when it didn't lash her face and neck. It was an excruciating pleasure and he, like with any large feeling in Klingons, looked rageful when it was applied to him, through him.

His focus returned quickly, his chest taking slightly longer to recover after the release that splattered her human features. He was drawn from it all when she almost protested his next order. Her eyes were fat with tears but they didn't steady with any unwelcome determination. Last time she held the gun she'd wanted to kill him. And now she did it for his bidding. How far she'd come in such a short time. He nodded when she hid the hand behind herself, and made sure to remember her expression before and during the effects of the gun. He had seen an uncertainty there over the outcome. Oh, she might even be trained to be good, if she knew to do what she was told, even at risk of her own life.

Her body did involuntary things at the stun fire, a pretty display of automated human responses. And then she crumpled, like the trigger had been an ineffective but absolute off-switch.

-

When she woke next time it may be because someone was clanking with something on the other side of the cell. She wouldn't know how much time had passed, but she knew she'd been relatively unmolsted in her rest because his cum had dried on her, and the marks and stains on her weren't disturbed into any other state that she would remember. It was her captor, again, and he had brought a bucket of a brown, chunky mass. It was obvious it was for her when he put it on the floor.

"Eat." he said, stern but without hesitation that she would. "I have been speaking to the rest of the crew, and they commend you on becoming a slave whore so quickly. It shows self realization." Another harsh compliment. "In your own way you might have a talent. And I'd like to show them more progress. Do you have any damning codes that might convince them?"
 
Jessica opened her eyes and brushed away the crust of dried tears and semen. She was a mess, and her insides still hurt from her session with her captor -- yet she was alive. Her chest was heavy, her insides ached from the trauma... She had not been treated while she slept, which was telling on its own. Without treatment she would die, likely within days. Yet for a moment she just enjoyed the feel of her own nakedness on the cold, metal floor.

Jess was startled with the clank of a bucket beside her; and the command to eat given. She was hungry -- damned near starving, really. She crawled to the bucket and picked at its chunky contents; pulling it apart into bite-sized pieces. There was no need to question the source of the meal -- she neither needed, nor wanted, to know. Cold eyes, a shadow of who she had been, stared up her captor as he offered 'compliments' and questions. Jessica sucked some of the juices off her fingers.

"Maybe." She said. It was the wrong answer, but it fell too casually from her lips. "If the Vancouver has reported my capture, Section 31 has already changed anything I have access to." Her explanation was simple and honest.
 
He was also afflicted with the need to conquer, like any creature, and being a male, it was more prominent in him. Not only prowess in war, but its spoils spoke to Meymat because of that, perhaps more than other Klingons. Conflict was a base for the Klingon animal, and individually, they had their own reasons for justifying it, or use it to justify other wants. He looked down at the human woman, nude and beaten and filthy, when she came over to have the meal. He'd not gone through a lot of pains to acquire it. It was simply leftovers meant to be discarded. He was sure the woman found their state appalling, but the nutritional value was there.

While she was honest, it was not a pleasing answer or assessment. The raw defeat in her was gone, but she was nowhere near the obnoxious agent she had been when she came in. She understood her place, and it was illustrated well when she was low, eating scraps, as he stood over her. Maybe he had thought her lies would have been just as telling as her truths. A quick kick spilled most of the bucket onto the floor. He stepped back enough to avoid it on his boots. He was fully dressed again. Looking around, he noted that the orb was still raised on its pole.

"Then, if you were me, how would you use a captured enemy, when all their information is outdated?" he offered. The rings on the ridges down his face were fewer but thicker today. He wore a belt with a few pockets in it, and, of course, a holster with a gun.
 
Jessica ate another mystery-chunk. Likely her last, as her bucket was kicked while she gnawed on the morsel... She saw his eyes glance to the pole; and noted the holstered gun. Despite the question he posed, she had a good idea of what he meant to do with her regardless. Jess guessed this was the part where she was supposed to try playing chess again -- and get punched by the Vulcan. She didn't want to fall into that trap again; but there was hope, in a twisted sort of sense.

"I didn't say that... I said 'if'..." Jess said. Her tone was soft and shaky, like a child in trouble, expecting to be hit. "I overloaded their warp core... I planned to eject it and destroy both ships when the bridge crew... You know. If they didn't cool it down fast enough, they're probably dead. If they cooled it too fast, they likely cracked the dilithium crystal." Jessica shrugged. A slow a solemn gesture, as real tears stung her eyes. "So. The Vancouver either exploded; or they're limping back home with no warp core. Probably weeks from the nearest outpost or transmitter beacon. I... I'll give you the codes."

Jess rocked front to back subtly where she sat, while fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't let the sobs overtake her -- but she was a traitor for real now. And it probably wouldn't spare her from an ounce of pain.
 
He was very pleased with her demeanor, at least. It was a nice contrast from the proud thing he'd brought onboard. She was afraid of him, beyond just knowing the things he was capable of, which she might have assessed the moment she saw him, or any of his kin. Yes, Jessica Nellis had immersed herself enough in the role as a captive on the Baktan, to know her supposed place and the agonies that came with it. She looked at him with a weariness that inspired him to show her more. Her logic was sound, but her voice was desperate. It didn't matter much. She gave him what he wanted, which was her surrender and continued break.

"Who would have thought ruining a vessel full of people who trusted you could be so advantageous?" he asked with disgust. He looked her over, when she cried and tried to nurse herself. It was quite the image of a captive, one she'd seen herself above two days ago. He dipped his boot in the food that was left of on the grid. "Clean it. You need your strength." he said, glad that she'd seen reason. Her kind wouldn't want her anymore, why not obey him if she could? Her honor wouldn't be a part of it for her, anyway.

He didn't expect her to get full off the leavings, neither on his booth nor left on the floor, but still would supervise her eating as much as would please him. All the filth here was hers, they made sure to clean after someone had died in here. Eventually, that would be over with, though, and a door opened to this cell. "Come. We're taking you to medic. You crawl, of course."

And when she did, whether after another beating or because she knew what was good for her, there'd be other Sabal passing her in the corridor. It wouldn't be that far of a way, but may feel like that to her, until she reached two sliding metal doors and a lab full of contraptions. A Klingon with the same complexion but smaller, boxier build as Meymat came over. "More experiments?" he asked with greedy eyes, reminding of a Ferengi when an unfair deal could be made.

She would, however, end up on a run of the mill table, with some blunt machinery overhead, made for transmission rather than bloody surgery. Being strapped down, she'd experience the full onslaught of a resetting to her biological quo, as interpreted by the highly unromantic Klingon data. While she may be physically whole at the end of it, it would cause her existential pain on the way.
 
Jessica bowed low and licked the rest of her breakfast from her captor's boot. Calories were calories, and she didn't doubt his claim that she would need them. His barb was not wrong either -- but she didn't want to think about the Vancouver's fate. To the crew, Jess must have been a monster... And she had betrayed them again.

She perked up at the mention of the medic. It didn't matter that she had to crawl; her dignity was gone. She came to heel like a good pet, and averted her eyes from those they passed in the halls. Her head should have been on a swivel; she should have been counting doors, looking for exits and access panels! But Jess kept her head down and her eyes on the floor, all her effort put into keeping up with her captor's pace. The doctor was odd -- perhaps too excited to experiment on her. Fortunately that wasn't her fate today.

Jessica was cooperative throughout the process, even when she was strapped down tight beneath an array of equipment. She wasn't a real medic, but recognized a few of the devices. They were practically archaic compared to Starfleet's medical beds, but they would mend her all the same. It would take longer but she would wake up with her injuries tended; ready to be punished again as her captor saw fit.

Yet, as the first of the devices came down, Jessica was still awake. "Wait..." She pleaded with a sudden panic in her tone, but was cut off as the machine did its work on her chest; while probes and rejuvenators wormed their way toward her ruined pussy. The next hours were harrowing. Jess had been beaten, interrogated, tortured, raped, and shot! Yet remaining conscious through surgery was the stuff of nightmares, that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

When Meymat returned -- that's what the Doctor had called him -- Jessica was still strapped in, trembling and traumatized but healed, ready to be broken again.
 
When she had followed like an good broken animal, he was happy to see his doctor's enthusiasm, but also hade to stave off the worst of it, since she wasn't a present for the good medic, but rather a job. She'd gotten none of the numbing technology applied to her - even the most stubborn Klingon was forced to have some to be battle ready directly afterward, but that courtesy wasn't extended to the human because her job was to perform poorly. He had not been absent all those hours, but she was plagued with being healed in the worst way, and likely did not notice as he reveled in her agony from the side.

He came to look her over eventually, when it was done - which took longer exactly because he wanted it to. She had a sheen of sweat because of her efforts. Her remembered how she'd eaten off his boot, and even though she'd thought it may be the worst of it then, getting sustenance like that, she looked worse now, with her body healed, because of how taxing it had been. He touched low on her belly, where the machines had spent quite some time, moving around beneath. A Steere's leavings inside a human cunt was particularly bad, not to mention the effects of the gun, even if it hadn't been lethal.

"I see you're all better." he jested and even the good doctor chuckled behind him as he switched the lever to free her form the straps that had bound her to the table. "You will follow me to the bridge." he ordered and turned around, his cadence obviously expecting her to follow him as he walked away. It was not a brisk pace, but it did not wait for her either. The doctor, from his console, was a bit dampened to have lost her as a subject for now. Though, his services may be needed soon again.

Again, if she could get her faculties aligned, she would have to crawl all the way there.

Well on the bridge, she'd be approached by a communication's officer, who had more traditional Klingon features, as opposed to the longer design of their leader. Stockier than even the doctor, he showed her to his own console where she'd be asked the appropriate questions about the codes while Meymat himself got seated in the center chair. Some of the crew still judged her for who she was, and her body as she was still not allowed clothes, but they were mostly busy with their tasks on the bridge.
 
Jessica's eyes were wide and petrified as she was examined by her captor. Her flesh was pale, and she trembled beneath his touch; recoiling only at the sound of the Doctor's laugh. She had no doubts that she would be used again -- yet as the restraints retracted, she loosed a heavy, shuddering breath in relief. The look she gave Meymat was not meant for a captor, but for a savior...

Jess followed his commands without hesitation. She was behind him on hands and knees, then beside him as she moved with a hastened pace. She kept close. Almost leaning into him, though it took considerable effort to keep up. There was no more embarrassment for her -- her pride was gone. The doctor might not have been the only one on board with worse designs for her use; it hadn't struck her that her captor may have been kind compared to his crew.

The Bridge was closer to a typical Klingon vessel. Jessica felt their eyes on her, and their raw resentment and disgust. She was naked and weak -- yet they all must have know her crime, seen the footage? Jess was a Klingon killer. And she didn't doubt they all wanted their personal vengeance...

Jessica became timid away from Meymat's side, but followed the communication's officer as she was told. She gave him the codes, and she knew many -- she even knew by heart the algorithm used to generate new codes after a security breach. Every ship in the fleet still used it. A few times she broke down to tears. It wasn't every day she stabbed the Federation in the back so deeply...
 
The little madness that was permeating her better than her perspiration there on the table, how it flashed in her eyes when he had her released - it was another sign that her mind was going, as he had designed it. Meymat would be many things to the Klingons, but never a hero to any human. She was on her path of becoming deranged already, for thinking so, even if she did connect it correctly to her freedom from being healed so painfully. Jessica Nellis was losing herself to this.

And with the kind of loyalty that comes with a lack of choices, she stayed with him. He felt a kinship with the energy she gave out while crawling quickly, eager to be with him. Of course there were animals that made companions to his kind, though rarely kept anywhere close to the vessels that went through space with the Klingon agenda. She reminded him of them, but she played the role of a thoroughly broken such. She thought she was steely, but the human bitch had just been malleable clay since she came here. A stain on her agency's reputation.

The officer who took her information didn't have time to threaten her or bolster himself, since she regurgitated the things he needed so freely. A few time, an expression of 'really?' came out of his Klingon, offended stoic when she answered so easily. A few times he mutter "no shame..." as though she was the most disgusting thing he'd experienced. Soon he had enough things to process that he couldn't take any more of her help, and dismissed her to somewhere on the middle of the bridge.

Meymat, who had been looking through the files on the swivel screen by his chair, noticed her there, and then the men who scowled at her. He slid the screen to the side, obviously, like many Klingon, her preferred physical to holographic interfaces. He crossed his feet when he considered her, and then looked at one of the males who had been part of the crew taking the Vancouver.

"Lork." he said and waved at her. The Klingon who was only dwarfed by Meymat by a few inches, and carried more meat on his shoulders, wore a mix between the blue-gray uniform and armored plating, an easy identifier of being geared toward battle more than anything else, even for those who may not know Klingon culture.

Lork came over and lifted her by one upper arm, of the shoulder she'd dislocated and had now agonizingly healed. He looked at her as she dangled in his grip, considering what he was allowed to do while the captain was watching. He decided for a conservative shake and then a toss, having her brush another worker before she'd hit the cold floor and slid.
 
Jessica paid no mind to the contempt the comms officer showed her; she knew she was a traitor to her people, to Starfleet, and to the Federation as a whole... She could never return home, not after this. She was actually relieved when the officer shooed her away. She went where she was told and knelt near the center of the bridge, patiently awaiting orders, or commands. Even an insult.

The slightest moment of quiet gave her time to think, to process her experiences. Whenever she closed her eyes, Jess heard the whir and thrum of the Doctor's machines... Yet when she tried to center herself, her thoughts drifted to an uncertain future. She perked up when Meymat noticed her, but wary to find out what he had in mind for her.

Jessica didn't know what to make of the brute he'd called over; and somehow missed any subtext in Meymat's wave. She leaned away as Lork loomed above her but resisted any urge to fight or flee, as the massive Klingon raised her off the floor effortlessly. She gasped, but while dangling by only her arm Jess was careful not to move much. She stared at Lork a moment -- until she was shaken, then flung away from him like a rag doll!

Jess shrieked midair and barely registered hitting another Klingon, before she landed hard and slid from the force of the throw. She groaned, but got to her knees and brushed her hair from her face. Her shoulder was sore, and she had a few scrapes, but she was fine... Jessica crawled back to Lork and sat on her heels; but her eyes turn to Meymat. She had a feeling she knew where this game was going.
 
Meymat stayed in his chair. He was very amused by Jessica's fate, and how she chose to handle it. Her obedience already was impressive, and he settled back with a very visible agreement to her crawling and sitting. Lork was all too happy to participate in her further breaking, and of course performed as well as the captain had known he would. What surprised the captain was her lack of resistance as it all happened. Maybe she should have been owned by the Klingons from the start? She certainly had a talent for it. Too bad she had to go the detour of thinking she had any other value.

A lot of the crew stopped what they were doing when the woman crawled back to her offender, when they hadn't batted an eye when she was thrown. Meymat found himself leaning forward, proud all of a sudden. It was in her voluntary actions that you found how far she'd cracked or broken. All this after one session. Humans were so splendidly weak. He'd use this one to see just how far they'd let themselves sink, how lacking in honor they were.

"Human. Humiliate yourself with Lork's genitalia." Meymat said with some excitement. There were some interested mumbling from the crew, but most of them resumed what they were doing. In the silence and by the way Lork stood above her, making the cup of his uniform presentable in her face, it was obvious what kind humiliation they may mean.

Upon being presented, something she'd do more or less easily with undoing two straps on the cup and then pulling Lork's pants down, his cock would be comparable but clearly not the same heft as his captain's. "Lork likes effort. But he has a short temper. So you should take care to please him." Meymat said.

"Captain. We may be ready to infiltrate the networks of Starfleet, but we'd have to bounce the signal off the Vancouver in order to do so. We would have to be within a certain range." the officer who'd taken her information gave. Meymat turned and then nodded to his pilots. No one gave Jessica the order to stop what she was doing when they started on the warp jump.
 
Jessica expected pain. To be struck or thrown again, or perhaps for Lork to be granted his choice of activity. She supposed Meymat would have enjoyed the duality of that game; watching her suffer, and Lork agonize over how far he could go... But her orders were more straightforward. To Meymat she nodded, but to Lork she frowned. Jess didn't like it -- first the Doctor, for understandable reasons -- then the comm's officer for intel. But now Lork, for sex? She felt a degree of separation from Meymat, like she had upset him...

She unstrapped the codpiece, and carefully freed Lork's cocks before bringing out his balls with a soft and supple touch. Jess was careful to gently stroke the bano while she worked, setting a steady rhythm to start. Her other hand caressed the shell-like skin of his steere, while she teased its tip with her tongue. She moved with a sensual grace; this was not merely for Lork's pleasure. Jess had an audience to entice. Meymat had to be pleased of course, but for all the contempt the crew had for her, she hoped they wished they were Lork. She minded her Master's warnings; effort was a priority, her hands and mouth were always active and she switched things up often. She even rolled her hips just so. The rhythmic jiggle of her ass might please onlookers, while the friction between her legs aroused her, got her wet... Lork and those nearby may have caught her scent.

It wasn't long before saliva and a sheen of pre-cum slicked his steere enough for her to take him down her throat, fully. It wasn't easy -- his ridges were rough on her throat, but nothing compared to having a painstik shoved down it. Jess began to jerk his bano, but three pumps was all it took for him to explode with thick streams across her breasts! The cum erupted in waves, hot and sticky against her pale skin. Moments before the bano drained, the steere burst its load down her throat in kind... Jessica kept her poise. She sucked, she swallowed, and took all that Lork had to give.

When Jessica pulled away, thin strands of semen stretched between them; slowly thinning, and snapped away. Fearing punishment, she ran her tongue around her lips sensually to clean them. She glanced to Meymat, and felt ill as the semen settled in the pit of her stomach. They were at warp by then. Jess hoped business would put her humiliation on hold for a while... But knew business meant they were acting on her information.
 
Lork tried to hold on to his fervent threat through out it, but he hunched a bit when she started attending to him. Klingon women were never tender, and it looked almost painful to the war-ready male when she coaxed his pleasure rather than rushed it. He was also a bit confused about what he should do, several times looking over at their captain as well. But, as he stood there and was given the view and opportunity to smell her as she lathered his cocks with her efforts, he found that he was losing this battle, if one it was. Eventually he put his large hand on her head, as though to have her slow down, but she was more focused on pleasing Meymat, and Meymat did not tell her to slow down. A frustrated number of grunts and gargles pushed through Lork's throat by the time he lost control and seeded her. He gasped and looked down. As practiced as Meymat had shown to be, Lork was not as formidable in skinship as he was in battle.

The bridge had gone quiet as they warp sped. He would allow their focus to shift given the distraction on the bridge. There were all kinds of scents in the air now. He let them hang in the silence and dream up whatever orders he may say next. He did not ever mean to torture his crew, but he needed to test their resolve and obedience some times. It was a pleasant moment for the leader, lamenting in his power over both the human sow and the crew. He watched his screen every now and then to make sure they were on the right path, and that their stealth technology would rise as soon as they went out of warp.

"Jessica Nellis." he said after having switched something on. "Come over here and show me your arousal." While it was softly worded in comparison to other tones he'd used, she would have to be very hopeful or naive to think there was any way for her to refuse. When she did do as she was told, or gave him reason to horribly punish her again, she'd be standing in front of him, with her ass toward the big screen where he took his hailing calls. Like with the Vancouver captain, he enjoyed when females submitted their cunts for his viewing, to appease him.

"You're in heat." he said to demean her. "Are you that pathetic already?" he asked, knowing full well she had done this to herself for his sake. Nonetheless, she was now a captive who could find her sexual hunger even behind enemy lines. The ship came out of warp. Through the view windows that were behind Jess, they'd see the Vancouver as it tried to limp along after their last visit. Jess wouldn't know.

"But if you're so adamant on pleasing me with codes and secrets and sexual favors, then go ahead." he said and parted his legs slightly, pants the same configuration as Lork's. "I'll have all three at once."

The Vancouver had been hailed, but their audio wasn't let through, though the Baktan did broadcast everything to them.
 
Jessica moved a little more languidly as her Master beckoned. She had no power, but through only her scent and sensuality she had held the bridge crew rapt with desires of their own. It was a relief that they wouldn't act against Meymat's orders -- and it reinforced that HE kept her safe. There was no telling what the Klingons would do to her if Meymat ever let go of their leash...yet she felt a power over the bridge crew in that moment, nonetheless.

Jess crawled before her Master and rose to her feet. She spread her legs wide enough for him to examine her, and canted her hips to thrust her pelvis forward. She even used her fingers to spread her lips for an easier view. Of course he demeaned her and called her pathetic -- what else should she have expected? Yet there was a glint of disappointment in her eye as he chastised her. Jess should have seen it coming, but didn't...

Presented with her Master's parted legs, Jessica nodded and knelt between them. She undid the straps and used her hands to coax out Meymat's massive cocks and balls, and teased his bano with her mouth while her hands played with his steere. She's need a fair amount of pre-cum on those ridges before they'd slide down her throat -- and nothing would be comfortable about pulling the steere back out! Jess maintained a rhythmic sway with her ass and hips to stimulate herself; it kept her juices flowing, and gave the bridge crew a show... Now to mention it would make things easier when Meymat chose to fuck her for real.


Meanwhile, aboard the USS Vancouver...


The bridge of the Vancouver had seen better days. The debris had been cleaned, the consoles repaired, but the crew had been hit hard in the Klingon assault. Katherine Byrd still sat in the Captain's chair, still held the reigns while tempers flared after the loss of so many -- all because a traitor said nothing. They were short staffed, repairs were slow, and they limped through dangerous territory. Any time an alert went off, everyone snapped to attention -- even when it was just a data collector console.

The blue light came on over the workstation, and the droll beeps followed. "The console picked up a short burst of gamma radiation off the starboard bow, Captain," The ensign alerted.

"Klingons!" Another shouted.

"It hasn't been for the last thirty times, ensign," the First Mate said. "Gamma bursts happen all the time -- just because we picked one when they cloaked doesn't mean anything."

"But it's a chance." Captain Byrd said.

Another console alerted. "Ma'm, we're being hailed,"

"On screen." The moment the bridge of the Baktan appeared, Katherine's eyes narrowed on Meymat. "Shields up! Trace that signal, move away from it's source!" She barked to her crew. Only then did the Captain pay any mind to what she saw. Her expressions ran the gamut from disgust and disappointment, to anger and a flash of thinly-veiled fear. She settled on mild disgust, it may have had something to do with audio of Ms. Nellis sucking and moaning. It certainly caught the attention of a few young ensigns...

"What is it you want, that you haven't already taken?" Byrd asked, having no idea her message went unheard.
 
He hadn't told her to crawl to him, but she did. She was ambitious in her own way, still. How reassuring that some things stayed the same. He waited for her to present herself, and noticed that she hung on his words more than she ought. Humans, especially the females, had such addicted hearts. She'd given in to the torture and now she was losing herself to her captor too. It was a built-in design he needn't worry about. The individual was either ruined enough that it would set root, or the torture would break what he wanted out of them anyway. Here was this hormone-scented wench, stood up in front of him with her pussy visible, as visible as her pulling fingers and spread legs could make it. He was developing a taste for it, admittedly. She'd recovered rather well from her fucking. He looked shortly at the place he'd conquered and then up at her face as she lowered herself to carry out the new unsaid order.

And as Jessica Nellis, formerly so loyal to her Starfleet, was taking his cocks out and starting her worship, a bit more knowledgeable now, perhaps going through the same phases about it that Klingon females might, the screen in front of him and therefor behind her blinked to life in an instant. He smiled at the captain and looked down at Jessica as she was getting busy. Byrd was being translated with Klingon text on the screen. He saw the rest of her crew becoming inspired from Jessica's fate.

"Remember when I told you to show your cunt to me?" he asked. Jessica would think it was for her, and Byrd would know it was for her. "Stand up to let the crew see too." It would apply to both earth women. For Jessica, it'd mean wafting that delicious pussy while being bent forward, letting the USS Vancouver see her arousal, especially as the lights on the Baktan's bridge bounced off her moisture. Because showing you drenched cunt didn't meant stop sucking cocks. He gestured to his crew to get in to favorable positions to watch, and a lot of them chose to get behind her when they took out their double cocks.

"What code to get into the Vancounver's steering system, now that it'd be on rudimentary to almost analogue levels, and without means to out-maneuver out stronger signals?" he asked Jessica and stroked her hair back to make it just a bit sweeter, and of course to keep her attention on him while both the Klingon and Starfleet crews were watching her be a whore and sell her own kind out. He liked the idea of her having to say the code while pleasing his cock, the Steere fast to firm up and flare its ridges, and the Bano becoming powerful not shortly after. It'd show her why Lork could not be master of this ship, and Meymat was.
 
Jessica did not question her Master's command; she rose to her feet with her back arched low, keeping her oral activities ongoing while she spread her legs for the crew. She heard them. Saw them on her peripheral; recognized the sound of codpieces getting unbuckled. They must have thought that Meymat would see them all rewarded. She hoped that wasn't the intent... As his steere hardened she tested and teased it with her lips. Jess took the moment to reach behind her and spread herself -- to let the crew get a better look at her anatomy, from her glistening and puffy lips, to the tight bud of her anus. Untouched and unsullied; the hell the Doctor had put her through had even regrown her hymen...


On board the Vancouver, Captain Byrd glared with disgust at Meymat's command. And perhaps at the ease Jessica had in following them... Yet once again, it wasn't a hill Katherine Byrd would die on, either. She stood from her command chair and lowered her paints and panties to mid thigh. It was not quite the sensual display that Ms. Nellis had put on, but she was only a Starfleet Captain -- not a trained spy-whore. Byrd knew she shouldn't judge Jess so harshly -- there really was no telling what they had done to the girl, even in so short a time. And without so much as a scratch on on her.

Captain Byrd sat back down in her command chair, her muff still on display. "Will that be all?" She asked, flatly.

Her Klingon was rusty, but she heard the question Meymat posed to Jessica -- even if it took a moment for their translator to puzzle out the words she didn't recognize. It would take even longer to process Jessica's answer; but Byrd recognized numbers.


Jessica pulled her lips free from Meymat's steere. It was going to hurt when she took the whole thing, but at least it was slick with pre-cum from her preparations. It seemed like an odd time to ask a question like that... But Jess understood her place. She nodded. "One-oh-one, one one one, one zero zero one. If they've done a hard reset, the system generates a random code. I gave him the algorithm." She gestured to the comms console, where she had spilled her guts not long ago. "Run that. It will crack the new code within seconds."

Jess smiled at him. A proud smile; almost too eager to prove herself useful with her knowledge. She went back down on him, lending tender kisses to his bano before taking it, fully, down her throat. A show of dedication for him. And a warm-up for her.
 
He could see why her faction had kept her in such high regard, and trusted such sensitive missions to her. While her mind was weak, her heart was almost true. She moved when asked, now free of even superficial rebellion and attitude. He did recognize some reverence in her eyes when she looked at him and carried out his bidding. The body language and gait she gave out he recognized as the silhouettes earth females performed to the benefit of mate-ready males. She had not employed this bodylanguage in the ready-room. He looked down at her with some pleasure beyond that which she provided - and it was a lot - with her infinitely soft and wet mouth and tongue, to his Steere. The upper of the two cocks was evolved for the need to blaze the trail for the bano, as she knew, but as a weapon, the more prominent the steere, the more of Klingon's version of testosterone in the male. The fact that Meymat's steere had such developed ridges, at the bottom of which were gill-like slits where the precum oozed out of, spoke more of how highly he would have been valued within his own race if he hadn't had such an eschewed world view by their own standards. He could smell her arousal when she reached back to spread her folds. "Good." he awarded.

He was pleased to see Byrd's disposition hadn't changed. Nor had her grooming, when she offered up the submission of her salt-kissed bush and mature cunt. When she sat the camera zoomed in on her lady parts and split the picture so she'd still have a full view. Some of his own crew split their attention between the overwhelming focus on Jessica's displayed parts, miraculously serene, and the Vancouver captain's. There'd always be a bit of an obsession with authority with Klingons, and while Jessica had the more drawing parts, Byrd's were honorable as she had not disgraced herself other than bowing to their own captain. Meymat saw when the same thing happened on the Vancouver's bridge, even if the humans tried to be more subtle about it.

He smiled and petted Jessica's hair when she had to abandon her current oral task for another one. His cocks were throbbing under her as the numbers wafted with her breath over the slick poles. She had such a natural, whorish expression when she was giving away her own kind. He looked at the screen for Byrd's reaction, and nodded down to Jessica for them, as though she was all to blame. His communicator was quick at work and then made a celebratory grunt as the USS Vancouver's instruments would be working for them now, through which they'd be able to infiltrate Starfleet's system, syncing with algorithms even if they changed the language. It was a devastating advantage.

And before he could even say something even remotely rewarding to the little traitor between his thighs, she was already fast at work again. He let his head fall back to savor the victory and her tight, deep services while the other ship got to see both her cunt and asshole and her head lodged on the other captain's cock. "You're not even regretful?" he asked with a pleased sigh. Even now she was being pumped full of hefty amounts of Klingon precum. It seemed it was the currency she preferred now since it was a very physical sign she was pleasing her new master.

"I think you deserve the reward you've been looking for." he admitted and put his arms down to the side. She would find the chair was particularly well made for anyone to ride its user. All the while the systems of the Vancouver would be overtaken, and even their most rudimentary attempts at stopping them wouldn't work as the communicators on the Baktan used the Vancouver as springboard to enter Starfleet.
 
Jessica nearly melted with the way he stroked her hair and called her 'good'. When asked if she even regretted betraying her own, Jess was caught off guard... She paused for a few seconds, perhaps too long, before she answered him. "No," she said. But of course she had regrets -- even as he sat back and presented himself to be mounted. Her reward was going to hurt like hell; she was going to suffer for his pleasure to avoid even worse consequences. Likely for the rest of her life. And if Jess ever made it home, she'd be branded a traitor.

Though her mind briefly dwelled in a dark place, Jessica did not hesitate long in mounting her Master. Between his copious pre-cum and her own arousal, she felt confident she could take his steere from the front and let his bano delve inside her ass. She straddled him with care and eased down onto him, guiding his colossal cocks with her hands. The longer steere lined up with her cunt first, and she settled down on the head; her insides warm and welcoming, but her hymen awfully tight. It took some real force on her part to get the bulbous head in -- she yelped when it popped through, and a small amount of blood trailed down his steere. The Doctor had restored her virginity; and now her hymen was broken again.

The first plated segment was next, and Jess took care to lower herself slow. It was wide, and the ridges pressed against her insides and stimulated her... If they were careful, and he wasn't too rough with her, it could even be a pleasurable experience for her rather than a painful one; with the plates of his steere pressing just so against her delicate flesh as they slip deeper. With the second and third, she also had to guide his bano inside her anus. Jess was tight, but Meymat was so hard it was an easy task.

Jessica couldn't go much further before his head reached her cervix. She was already sweating, straining to force herself that far when his pressed against her cervix. He was only half-way inside her! And she knew he wouldn't settle for half-measures. Jess had to catch her breath, but she met her Master's eyes and offered a wan smile. She knew what happened next would hurt.

With care and effort, Jessica forced herself downward onto his steere and bano. She used the chair for leverage; held onto him if he let her! Her insides stretched; such a small and sensitive canal, painfully widened as she force her cervix to accommodate his steere! The ridges scraped, drew blood -- she nearly blacked out from the agony! Jess couldn't stay silent, let alone feign pleasured moans. She screamed out in pain as she suffered for her Master...

When she had taken him all, she sat atop him exhausted. But the job had just begun...
 
He thought she might moan when he petted her hair. She hadn't gotten alot of pleasures since he found her, and who knows, before then. While Jessica was not averse to using her body in ways where she might have some benefits too, the reality of a spy was usually long, eventless ordeals, not constant battles and fucking. That's why not all good soldiers could do it. But that was also why spies were so difficult to break. To know he'd done so within one session, made all her obedience more dear to him, because they reflected how pathetic she was, and how she may represent the best of her kind. Though, her lack of morals did add to her lack of resilience. Jessica Nellis hadn't believed in anything but herself, and now that self had been broken. And then healed again.

Despite the act she put on he saw the nerves blossom in her upon looking at his genitals. As she ought. He had always commanded respect with his package. It was a primal way of measuring males, and he should know not only the large can win a fight, but it was fitting for a leader to have a formidable combination. The true extent of the good doctor's healing came through when she sat herself on him, balanced on the anatomy of the chair made for this exactly. He only looked briefly at the screen with her former crew watching before he looked down at her aiming his cocks and bending her legs to descend on them with her own strength. He dragged his fingers through her hair to encourage her, though it would also look like rightly possession to the Vancouver's crew.

He stayed stoic first, when she took his head. She was slick but he noted her tightness, tighter than before. He helped by putting pressure on the top of her head to guide her and grunted at each ridge to count as she got lower, and hissed when her asshole started swallowing up the bano. He was aroused by her bleeding and smiled into her face before returning his attention downward, between them. He sighed at the half way mark, where she was balanced upon her cervix. He thought her shallow act would stop there; she'd been determined enough not to earn reprimand. His fingers curled and opened on her head.

And then she showed him her determination. He groaned when she took hold of him and impaled herself on his natural weapons. The nodes on his steere ejected lubricants when she stuck herself on it, and let him occupy her baby room. "Not bad." he said, enveloped by her, though her human anatomy did fall a bit short even when her depths were entirely spent. The head of the steere kissed the ceiling of her womb. His hand clutched around her scalp and started lifting her, until his bloodied first cock popped out of her cervix, though still inside her cunt. And then both of the cocks would get to invade her as his palm pushed down again on her skull, like she was only a sex toy.

"Move Jessica." he said and finally cast an eye at the screen as his communicators started compiling files from starfleet. As any true Klingon, they were looking for weapons systems, but also on collected data on Klingons. His other hand came between them and palmed her stomach where he'd bulged her, the steered now violently inserted and cramming her womb again. "If you're good I'll give you a reward."
 
Jessica knew pain, yet found her own pleasures as the act commenced. The way he stroked her hair, even the mildest compliments he gave; and beyond the physical pain there were some pleasurable sensations to be had. While her depth hurt from his size and the sharp protrusions of his steere, her opening was teased by the ebb and flow of his segments that scratched an itch she'd never known she had, and sent waves on pleasure through her as each crest passed her clit... His bano was a tight fit for her ass, but with plenty of natural lubricant from his own excitement it slid easier than its larger kin; and added a pleasant throb to the act.

Aided by her Master, the ride back up was a maddening switch to agony. The scraping of her cervix was excruciating! Jess couldn't hide her pain in those first few moment of extraction... She was sweating by then, and trembling from the exertion. Jessica put effort into making her moans sound pleasurable the rest of the way up -- she thought that would please him -- though his steere scraped harshly against her soft insides, bringing pained cries to her lips and thick tears to her eyes. The blood on his steere, and the thin traces that trickled from her pussy, were proof her pain. And she had done it willingly -- for him.

Jessica felt the pressure from above and sank down his shafts again. She could have let it happen, let him do all the work, but she knew that would not impress him... Jess braced herself against the chair, and pushed herself down on his cocks. "Y-yes... Yes..." She mumbled; though this ride down wasn't as pleasurable for her as the first. Her pleasure was not the point. She merely needed to make him happy with her performance...

Once she was down, Jess was surprised he asked her to move. She was relieved for a pause; and didn't mind the gentle touch or mention a reward either. Jessica found a comfortable enough way to lean aside without dismounting him, and caught sight of the screen for the first time... She saw what Meymat was doing; saw Captain Byrd and the bridge crew in the background. She read the scrawl at the bottom of the screen; everything that had been said in the last minute or so.

Jessica's expression fell. She was crestfallen -- as if a maelstrom of consequences were spiraling around her. Her shoulders slumped... It hardly mattered that the crew of the Vancouver had watched her fuck. Reading their dialogue as they lost steering and propulsion controls was like reading a bad radio drama. No, what bother her was what Meymat was busy poking into.

Jessica knew full well how detailed the Vancouver's databases were on Klingons. She had updated them herself with her notes. At least the information she could while keeping with her cover story of observing from outside the neutral zone. She was doing so well -- what would he do when he saw her name in those files?
 
It didn't matter whether he suspected her performance or not. He chose not to dwell on it, and rather see it for what she made it. A pretty human woman, taking on a particularly formidable Klingon's cocks. He let her have them, his manhoods, and saw that she was dissolving into the act a bit, going gown. It was a long way for her shallow cunt, no matter how much deeper she tried to make it by using her last room. She turned a bit against it when she pulled-up again. It was not made to give Klingon women pleasure either, but some of them were known to grow a bit perverse, and miss it when they'd been exposed to it for longer times. These carnal things were denied Klingons, and maybe it was Meymat's other inclinations that had let him explore it.

Despite being bled from more than her virgin membrane, she didn't run. Her blood was warm. He liked the scene she made out of impaling herself on him. The steere flexed inside her when she started to ride, which meant the ridges fanned out and in. The bano was subject to the same reflexes, but only swelled and settled like a muscle, its effects much duller than the more aggressive steere. She was a puppet now, pretty and obedient at her own cost. He grunted while she moved on her own accord. Naked and slicked in sweat, she was a pretty trophy in his lap. He'd manufactured this prize out of the remains of the traitor.

He saw where her head was moving, and didn't stop her. The steere flared and the bano expanded to settle when she learned what was happening. Her heartbreak was felt through her cunt and ass. It was a sensation he'd not often gotten to experience before, but one he'd indulge in whenever he could. Jessica gave it better than most. His hand stroked her collarbone and down, sliding over her coat of perspiration to grab a tit that was no match for his large grip. Dampened spirit or not, she still had a job to attend to. "You may please yourselves." he said, and it was both to the Vancouver crew and his own.

The sound to the other bridge was turned on now that the human whore knew. He didn't aid in Jessica's bouncing anymore, but he petted her hair possessively when he looked up at the other captain on the screen. "You are far from your next friendly post, Byrd. Your hopes are that there are no secrets left for you to tell once I'm done with your communication. But, you should prepare to please and entertain me, if I should deem you a loose end." He rand his fingers through Jessica's hair as a point. "And you should know my tastes in games by now." he meant both his prisoner and the other ship.

He leaned forward to whisper in the redhead's ear. "You should do your best to give a show too. You fuck like a sleepy Halkan right now." disappointed. He reclined to look at her, where she'd positioned herself on him, and then coldly slapper her across her face to remind her she was more expendable than his next orgasm.

At the same time, the communicator she'd been talking to coughed. "Sir, on your screen." he said and started sending a certain incriminating number of files to the mounted screen next to the captains chair. It was Jessica Nellis's prerogative to fuck for her life.
 
The slap shook Jessica, and she trembled atop her Master as she pleasured him. It took resolve, effort, and sheer strength to raise herself up and push herself down again...and again...and again... She shuddered and fought against her own body's reflexes to keep going. Dire moans were loosed from grit teeth, fat tears fell from reddened eyes, as Jessica bobbed up and down atop him. The pain was blinding -- but so was her fear. She knew what reports had been sent to Meymat's console. She was in trouble. No matter how well she performed. Jess had hope that a show of effort would at least spare her life, no matter what he did to her in the meantime... Her moans turned to screams as she scoured herself on the throbbing ridges of his steere; the warm flow of cum, blood, and her own juices slicked her thighs. Jessica felt both of his members erupt inside of her! She was exhausted; her cunt was raw... But she would keep fucking until he told her to stop, or she passed out.


Meanwhile, On the Vancouver...

Captain Katherine Byrd and the bridge crew were tearing open consoles in an effort to override the Baktan's takeover of their systems. Yet some of the crew couldn't take their eyes off the viewscreen. Captain Byrd, herself, split her time between snapping orders and glaring at Meymat. She understood the score, exactly how bleak their situation was. What she didn't know was what he wanted -- if not just a plaything, like every other bully. He spoke of secrets and loose ends, and went for the ship's database -- but they were a science vessel. Starfleet wasn't in the habit of keeping classified material on science vessels. What had Jessica given to this Klingon?
 
He laughed at her expression after the slap. Had she thought she was above such violence after what she'd been through? The human heart was perhaps a greater traitor than herself if she hoped that there'd be enough affection between them simply because of the intense time they'd spent together. He'd been able to treat her like that precisely because she didn't mean anything to him. Torture did things to the mind - maybe he had mistaken her physical reset for something of a recovery for her brain too, but it seemed the good doctor's work without any kind of hindrance for the pain had affected her a lot.

The Klingon leader grunted and hummed a low growl in his chest when she got going on his cock. It was pure athletic ability eventually, fucking herself on his cocks like that. Naturally, even a virgin would have more trouble inserting a cock in her ass than her pussy, but since Jessica was dealing with a rather sizable steere in her reproductive tract, that's where she struggled. He gargled in an angry way when he came inside her, washing her blood and juices with his dangerous seed until it coated the hilt of his cock and drowned his balls. Her ass was also flooded in the bano's leavings.

The two stems stayed hard while the woman miserably rode on, and Meymat didn't tell her to stop even if he ignored her and turned his head to the side. It didn't take him long sifting through the choice material from his communicator until he looked back at her. Suddenly his hand slapped around her throat and lifted her until both his cocks flopped out of her used holes.

"You little wench." he said and used the remaining hand to grab his cocks, gathering the two large poles and then slamming her down again, both of them forced into her cunt. He cast a look beyond the prisoner at the other captain on the big screen, trying her best to stop something that was already on its way. And then looked at Jessica again. "You've been busy." he muttered while she was still impaled, and then slapped her hard. Her head wasn't allowed to move with the force of the impact since he was keeping her in place by her throat.

The next motion of the free hand was similar, but it was now a fist instead of an open palm. The Vancouver was forced to watch her punishment from several angles while the dealt with their own vessel to no avail.
 
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