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From: The Bear <thkbear@earthlink.net>
Subject: RP Siege of Troi 1/3 (Startrak TNG Humil)
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* * * * * Warning * * * * *
This story contains descriptions of sex, nudity, and sexual
situations. If you are offended by such things, or are under the
legal age for viewing such things in your area, please stop
reading now. And go to another newsgroup. If you object to, or
are easily offended by, popular TV characters being depicted in
such situations, stop reading now. If you choose to ignore these
warnings, you are about average.
The characters depicted herein are copyrighted by Paramount
Studios. Any commercial use of these characters without written
permission is illegal. This story is distributed royalty free,
and may not be distributed in any commercial manner whatsoever.
* * * * * *
The Siege of Troi: Chapter 1
The shimmering stopped, and Counsellor Deanna Troi stepped off the
transporter pad. Noting the look on the transporter chief's face,
she looked down. She was naked, her uniform having somehow
vanished during transport.
"Damn it!", she exclaimed, trying to cover herself with her hands.
"Haven't you gotten that bio-filter fixed yet?"
"Sorry Ma'am.", apologized the crewman, looking sheepish.
"Never mind. Beam me straight to my quarters.", she said with
some irritation. This wasn't the first time she had lost her
uniform in transport, but it was getting to be a real pain. She
knew that the crewman wasn't doing it on purpose, but that didn't
make it acceptable. Stepping back onto the transporter pad, she
ordered, "Energize."
Moments later she re-materialized in her quarters. The
transporter system had found her uniform this time, materializing
it with her, but that didn't do anything to help her mood.
She decided to vent her anger in the usual way, by making a log
entry. Talking about problems helped her let go of them, even if
it was just talking to recorder.
"Personal log, Stardate 2344.7.2. My visit to the trade
conference was quite productive, after a rough start. A
transporter malfunction materialized me in the middle of the
Ferengi delegation. Unfortunately, my uniform, communicator, and
credentials materialized in my quarters a few minutes later, with
my luggage. It took 20 minutes, two security guards, and a DNA
scan to convince them that I wasn't part of the conference
"hospitality". I had three proposals of marriage, and a dozen
less respectable offers before I could get some clothes. And some
of those offers came from the Federation delegates! "
"To add to my day, nobody took me very seriously for the rest of
the conference. On the bright side, this let me learn a lot about
the Altairian's strategy and approach. The information proved
invaluable, helping us secure favorable terms for extracting poly-
feranide from their asteroid belts. End Log."
Closing out her log entries, Deanna rose from her desk and began
to prepare for sleep. "Computer", she called. "Hot chocolate."
There was a shimmering in the replicator niche of her quarters,
and a steaming mug of her favorite beverage materialized. Sipping
it slowly as it cooled, she moved towards her dressing table, to
prepare for bed.
"Computer, are there any messages for me?", she asked as she drew
her uniform tunic over head. She shook out her mane of black
curls, and listened to the computer's reply.
"Counsellor Troi? This is Ensign Braddock.", came the replay. "I
have to cancel our session tomorrow. Sorry I... sorry."
Deanna thought about the troubled tone of the Ensign's voice as
she finished removing her uniform. He had just transferred to the
Enterprise a week ago, and had skipped or cancelled all of the
evaluation sessions she had scheduled with him. He had seemed
fine when they first met, but had grown distraught within a few
minutes of meeting the Counsellor, and had excused himself
quickly.
Frowning as she unhooked the Variable-G sports bra (Starfleet
standard issue), she signalled Sick Bay. "Troi to Dr. Crusher.
Beverly, has Ensign Braddock reported for his physical exam'?",
she asked.
"Yes, Deanna.", came the reply. "He checked out fine. Is there a
problem?"
"I'm not sure. He seems to be avoiding me, and has cancelled
another Evaluation session with me. Its his sleep cycle right
now, but I am going to have to talk to him in the morning.
Thanks."
That point settled, Deanna slipped her Tholian Silk nightgown over
her head, enjoying the sensation of the feathery smooth material
against her skin. Picking up her chocolate again, she drank it,
slowly, enjoying the smooth richness as it flowed down her throat.
Its warmth relaxed her, as it always did, letting her lose the
stresses of the day. Calling for the lights to be dimmed, she
slipped into her bed, and soon drifted off to sleep.
*****
Deanna looked over the shoulder of the distinguished man seated in
front of her. The trade negotiations were at a delicate juncture,
and the Ferengi across the table was pleased with himself. He hid
it well, his face a toothy scowl, but his emotions were an open
book to the half-Betazoid empath. She placed her hand on the
Commodore's shoulder, signalling caution in their pre- arranged
code.
But the Commodore ignored her warning, and signed the agreement.
The Ferengi was openly delighted now.
Deanna wanted to ask the Commodore why he had made such a bad
deal, but something was wrong. She was naked, and two Ferengi
were approaching her, a collar and leash in hand.
What was going on? She tried to turn away, but was blocked by the
Alterian delegate. As the Denebian Slave collar was being locked
into place, she realized that she had been sold to the Ferengi as
part of the treaty. She tried to cover herself, but was told,
firmly, that women were not allowed to conceal their bodies on
Ferenginar. The circle of delegates smiled and nodded their
approval, as her hands fell slack at her sides. The nano-circuits
in the collar made it impossible for her to disobey an order given
by whoever held the leash. But they hadn't ordered her to stay.
She charged straight at the Ferengi, bowling him over and freeing
the leash from his grasp. Her momentum carried her into the
crowd, and she struggled to escape the sea of groping, clutching
hands. She stumbled and fell, rolling nakedly on the floor, to
come to a stop at the side of...
Her bed? Deanna looked around. She was in her quarters, alone,
with the lights dimmed to sleep mode. She had been asleep,
dreaming. Her sheets were tangled around her, and she had fallen
from her bed in the throes of her nightmare.
Slowly, the Counsellor straightened the bedclothes and pulled her
nightgown back into place. The pounding of her heart slowed and
her breathing eased as the memory of the nightmare lost its edge.
Nervously, she settled down and waited for sleep to return. It
took it's time.
********
Deanna gazed across the card table at her opponent. Cmdr. Ryker
gazed back, his poker face the very image of confidence. Deanna
knew, from experience, that behind that mask, on the emotional
level, was exactly the same image. Regardless of his hand, he was
always confident of his eventual victory.
The others had folded, and watched with interest as the hand
played itself out. Slowly, Ryker peeled off his uniform tunic, and
tossed it into the pot, covering Worf's gold Security tunic.
Deanna, never one to be bluffed, Deanna stood and peeled off her
straight black uniform trousers and tossed them into the center of
the table. Without hesitation, she added her own tunic. "See
you, and raise.", she stated with a calm smile.
Beverly looked concerned, but she had had a bad night, and sat
with her arms folded across her naked chest. Worf had fared
better, still having his trousers, but Deanna and Ryker were the
hot players tonight.
Ryker added his own under-tunic, then his trousers as well. "See,
and raise."
Deanna gnawed her lip in indecision. Her hand was good, but the
stakes were getting high. "Call", she replied, peeling off her
top. She made no effort to cover herself. Social nudity was not
uncommon on Beta-Zed, and besides, you never let the other player
see you sweat.
Ryker revealed his hand: Kings and 5's. Full house. Deanna
tossed her three aces in, accepting her loss like a good sport.
Ryker put his uniform back on.
"Everyone ante.", Worf reminded the players as he dealt. Deanna
and Beverly removed their last garments, dropping their panties
onto the center of the table.
Deanna looked at her cards as they arrived. One king. Another.
And another. A three. And another king. Her face betrayed
nothing, but she intended to take Will Ryker down to his shorts on
this hand.
"Your bet, Counsellor.", Worf prompted her.
Ryker was smiling broadly, his interest putting a crack in his
poker face. "What are you going to wager, Deanna?", he asked
pointedly.
Deanna realized that she had nothing to bet with, unless... The
lights began to flash in the room, and the alert sounded. "Red
Alert.", came the voice from all four communicators. "Senior
Officers, report to the bridge.."
There was a bustle as the players grabbed discarded clothing,
tugging uniforms into place as they headed for the door. Deanna
sat, stunned. It wasn't fair. She had the winning hand. It
wasn't fair.
Looking at the table, she realized something else. Her own
uniform was gone, apparently grabbed by the others in the general
scuffle for clothes.
"Senior officers, report to the bridge.", came the order again.
Deanna sat in stunned shock. She couldn't go to the bridge like
this, but she was needed. She couldn't even get to her quarters
without being seen by half the crew.
Cautiously, she left the room, hoping that no one would see. The
corridor lights were dimmed, but there were a dozen people there,
staring at her. She turned to run back into the ward room, but
the door wouldn't open. She spun again, looking for a refuge, and
found herself facing...
The ceiling? Looking around, Deanna realized that she was again
in her quarters. Another intense dream, similar to the first.
What was going on? She realized that she was sexually aroused,
though the thought of being naked in public was not something she
had ever found arousing.
She had been naked in front of her friends before, in the holo-
deck mud bathes, as they had been naked in her presence. There
was no "forbidden fruit" aspect to it. Not for a Betazoid. But
still, her passions were undeniably real.
Steeling herself mentally, she returned to her bed, intentionally
leaving her desires unfulfilled. To gratify herself would build a
subconscious association between humiliation and pleasure, an
association she definitely didn't want.
Deanna tossed and turned the rest of the night, almost afraid to
fall into a deep slumber. What dreams she did have were warm and
intimate, devoid of any details that she could later recall, but
decidedly erotic in nature. She awoke poorly rested, and deeply
troubled. It was nearly an hour before she would normally have
gotten up, but she decided to get up and face the day anyway.
Sleep was less than restful, this night.
Perhaps her experiences at the trade conference had affected her
more deeply than she had realized. She knew she would pay for it
later, but she determined that her best solution, short term, was
to devote herself to her work.
Dressing in one of her more conservative uniforms, she set out to
find the elusive Ensign Braddock.
End of Chapter 1
Replies Welcome
The Bear
thkbear@earthlink.net
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