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Archive name: jeriryan.txt (M+/F, mc, v, celeb)
Authors name: Mephistopheles (beelzebub@hotmail.com)
Story title : Jeri Ryan: Star Fuck
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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Jeri Ryan: Star Fuck (M+/F, mc, v, celeb)
by Mephistopheles (beelzebub@hotmail.com)
***
Given the new heights that Jeri allows me to reach each
week, she seemed a logical choice for one of my stories.
If you've never heard of Jeri Ryan (what planet have you
been on?), or just want to drool over her curves, go
directly to; www.startreknude.com/ryan/ryan.html
***
Jeri Ryan took the world by storm when she was first
introduced into 'Star Trek Voyager' in 1997. Considering
'Voyager' is allegedly Trek's feminist project, it's
ironic - a quite delicious irony, at that - that it took
a blond bombshell in a tight catsuit to finally boost
the ratings. Then again, how could anyone possibly
resist the phenomenal Borg-Babe? Her biggest assets were
those incredibly tight catsuits; which, in turn,
emphasised her other, considerable, assets - T & A. Not
me certainly.
With her face and body plastered over every other
magazine, it didn't take long for me to develop an
interest. Thankfully the internet provided me with ample
opportunity to study her every curve, crammed as it is
with infinite angles of that wonderful bust through
those infamous catsuits. Fortunately, unlike my fellow
net-surfers, I don't need to dribble over a collection
of photographs - I'd rather drool over the body of the
genuine article....
I encounter Jeri Ryan off-set of an VH1 special that she
was presenting. Under my influence, she opts to lose the
conservative garb, going instead with a tiny bikini - as
a result, a quite substantial portion of very appealing
flesh is on display. The ensuing beach volleyball game
is my gift to all those Seven-of-Nine fans out there.
As soon as shooting wraps, I escort Jeri to my car. Once
there, she strips, allowing me to gaze at those large
tits and the thin strip of short blond hair between her
legs. Rather than have her sit next to me, I have her
kneel down and suck me off while I drive.
Her mouth feels good as she works my entire length into
her mouth. She looks absolutely adorable, clad only in a
pair of killer shades, blond head bobbing up and down on
my cock. I need apply no physical pressure; she is
moving at exactly the right speed, compelled by my mere
thought. Slowing the car, I begin to come.
Jeri obediently moves me deeper into her throat,
allowing me to shoot my spunk directly into her stomach.
I love the feel as she gags silently. After she has
cleaned me up, I sit her in the passenger chair and
command her to masturbate.
She sets to it with evident relish, and, pretty soon her
head is jerking back and forth as an orgasm approaches.
Other drivers can't take their eyes off of her; a
beautiful blond, decked out in cool ray- bans, jacking
herself off in the front seat of an open top sports-car
- and those who recognise her realise this sight is an
even bigger treat.
Committed though she is, I prevent her from reaching
orgasm; aware that her frustration is making her
insatiable. Insatiability I can use....
Arriving at my apartment, we immediately retire to the
bedroom. Standing right behind her, I begin to grope
those large breasts, while my penis pokes into her back.
Turning her about, I take a nipple into my mouth,
sucking it gently, before biting down upon it. In that
moment, I have turned her into a masochist. From now on
all types of pain, so long as they are inflicted upon
her by others, will provide an immense thrill. To
demonstrate, I grind her nipple between my teeth. Her
cry of sheer delight is music to my ears.
Moving to the bed, I position her so that I can slide my
cock between her tits. Pushing them together with my
hands, I begin to fuck her chest. While I am so engaged,
she raises her head, her tongue flicking over my cock
every time it gets within range. As I near my climax, I
allow her to orgasm, and she gratefully shudders with
pleasure at the release. This pushes me to the edge and
I begin to come; all over her tits, her hair, and on to
that icily beautiful face.
When she has cleaned up, I have her dress in one of
Seven's catsuits - brown and exceedingly fitting -
easily obtained from the 'Voyager' set. It fits her like
a dream; in theory she is dressed, in practice the
costume leaves precious little to the imagination. Her
erect nipples make a sizeable impression on the
material, while her arse cheeks are separated by a very
evident cleft. For all the protection the suit offers,
Ms Ryan might as well be naked.
Having got the look, it is a simple matter to submerge
her personality, and replace it with that of Seven-of-
Nine. To all intents and purposes, Jeri Ryan no longer
exists; she has become Borg Babe. Of course, regardless
of her personality, she is still completely enslaved to
my will.
The car journey is relatively uneventful. I content
myself with easing Jeri's - or Seven's, as she is
henceforth to be known - hand into my pants to wank me
off. She is quite beautiful; icily detached, staring
straight ahead through the windscreen, her face a mask
of complete disinterest, while her left arm jerks me
off. Even this movement is cool, steady, mechanical.
I select the seediest bar I can find. A real flea-pit.
Advertised by a gaudy neon sign, 'The Meagre Beaver'
certainly doesn't disappoint. Living up to its title,
there are no women to be found within the premises;
indeed, judging by the motley group of redneck
Neanderthals to be found clustered around the joint's
sole attraction - a tatty old pool table - women might
well be thought an extinct species in these parts.
As one might expect, Seven's entrance into this
environment proves explosive. As their attention is
understandably arrested, I stroll into the bar entirely
unnoticed. Seven stops at the table, scooping the cue
ball up in her hand. She now has their undivided
attention - as if she didn't have already. A short fat
man is the first to speak. "What's your name,
sweetcakes?"
"My designation is Seven-of-Nine. I am Borg. Your
distinctiveness will be added to the Collective. You
will be assimilated."
Every eye in the room is upon her, every penis raised in
her honour, yet her delivery was cool as a cucumber. If
any word can capture her essence, excusing the more
obvious appreciations, it would have to be unflappable.
She turns to the man nearest to her - an oily youth of
maybe twenty years - steps forward until she is inches
from his quivering bosom, and eyes him with complete
disdain.
Without warning, her hands grip his head and pull it to
her own. She kisses him, slowly. Sexily. Breaking their
embrace, she throws him to the floor. Her eyes scan the
other seven men in the room - sizing them up, and, to
judge from the icy veneer, reaching an unsatisfactory
conclusion. "Resistance is futile."
In an instant, she is grabbed from behind, her arms
twisted painfully behind her back. The oily youth picks
himself up, walks up to the helpless Seven, and strikes
her hard across the right cheek. He hits her again and
again, muttering abuse as he does so. "Shit! I think the
bitch likes it!"
They stop and stare. While he has been hitting her,
Seven has began to rub her arse against her captor's
jean covered erection, working it in between her arse
cheeks. They begin to realise what they have got on
their hands.... "Let's see if she digs this." A stocky,
middle-aged man step forward, brandishing a flick knife.
Slowly, he begins to drag the blade down Seven's
uniform, slicing through the material, and,
occasionally, nicking Seven's skin.
As the blade reaches her stomach, she suddenly twists
herself free, striking the knife from the hand of her
assailant. Almost as quickly, she is recaptured; three
men wrestle her to the floor. "No. Not the floor. Stick
her on the table."
Helpless, Seven is hoisted into the air, before being
placed on her back on top of the green felt. Her arms
and legs are held firm as the rest of her uniform is cut
and torn from her body. For a moment, they are content
to merely admire her perfection, but then one of the
cues is passed to the front.
"Fuck the bitch with this!" The cue is inverted, and the
thick end is pressed up to Seven's cunt. It is pushed
into her, the wielder twisting it sharply like a cork-
screw to get its full width in. For all her icy cool,
Seven screams just like anyone else. The cue is ripping
her inside out, and yet, despite herself, she feels....
aroused. She begins to gently buck against the cue,
gently, but noticeable.
"Hot damn! The bitch likes it! Look at her go! Give the
lady what she wants!"
The cue is pulled out with one swift jerk, a painful
procedure for Seven, but she does not remain empty for
long. This time it is a thick cock that pushes into her
pussy. Simultaneously, her head is grasped, pulled back
900, and a cock is inserted into her open mouth.
As the two men set to work on these orifices, two cocks
are pressed into her open hands. She responses by
wrapping her hands around them and beginning to wank.
From my vantage point, I watch this impressive sight.
Seven-of-Nine is laid out on the pool table, cocks
fucking her cunt and mouth, jerking off another cock in
each hand, while the remainder of the gang wank over her
prostate form.
I browse through her mind, reaching the part of Jeri
Ryan that is conscious of her surroundings. She is
terrified, disgusted, yet, perversely turned on....
She realises that this is what she deserves. Flaunting
her body every week on 'Voyager', what else could she
expect? If you dress like a slut.... It is this final
rationalisation that I shall promote; it can be used to
convince Jeri Ryan into a gang-bang hungry slut. Fitting
retribution for this haughty, blond, cock-teaser.... In
my opinion.
THE END
Author's Note: Starfuck is designed to be a series of
STAND ALONE stories (much like the Hypno-Celeb
franchise). However, each story will feature the same
protagonist - an individual with the power to control
people's minds. At some point, I might determine the
limitations of this power (ie: how many people he can
control at any one time), but for now all you need know
is that in order for control to be established he must
have skin-to-skin contact with his target, though only
for a split second. Now, lets just kick back and watch
him put his talent to good use.
Comments and suggestions for future stories always
welcome: beelzebub@hotmail.com
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form.
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