NEW: Cruzing 6a

Warning! Be advised that this story contains graphic, sometimes non-consentual depictions of sexual interaction, both hetero and homosexual. The story also contains vivid, clinical descriptions of sex with a non-human alien. If you are under the age of 18, or if any of these subjects is likely to disturb and/or anger you, please read no further.

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CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part a)

Lieutenant Darryl Hicks and Lt. Commander Geordi Laforge sat amidst the warm, soapy water of the sunken, expansive bathtub, facing each other, their legs sensually intertwined. A air of the small chamber was similarly moist, and the two men sweated freely. Two small trays stood next to the tub by either man's reclined head; Hicks' tray bore a venerable hypotherm canister of Terran beer, while the other supported Geordi's preferred poison, a Saurian Backbender. Just barely, sensually noticeable to both men, riding just behind the veneer of soap and steam, was the lingering, bleachy musk of both men's semen, still wafting from the open door to Geordi's bedroom. Both men were now relaxing after a long, intimate fuck.

"I still think she's got a simple case of the hots for you," Geordi mused, his eyes closed. His visor lay next to his drink on the tray. "It's not like she'd be the only one on the ship. . ."

Hicks smiled slowly, watching his best friend and sexual partner relaxing in the tub across from him. For the past year, he and Geordi had been more than friends. The two had spent a fair amount of time together during a refit of the emergency damage control monitors in Main Engineering, not long after Geordi's promotion to Chief Engineer. It was during that time that the men discovered, and nurtured, a quiet but intimate sexual attraction for each other. Geordi was bisexual, it had turned out, and Hicks had been homosexual for as long as he could remember. Each discovered in the other a friendly, easygoing charm that both found stimulating and comforting.

"Please, don't remind me," Hicks responded in his typically breathy, sexy voice. "You wouldn't believe what Bev and Dee wanted to do with me last night."

"You're right, I can't. Enlighten me."

Hicks actually blushed. "Let's just say it involved me, her, and the biggest dog I've ever seen in my life; I think she was taking care of it for one of the civilian families. What is it with the women on this ship?" he groused good-naturedly.

Now it was Geordi's turn to smile. "You're a heartbreaker, Dare, that's what it is." He ran his soapy foot gently up Hicks' broad, rippled chest, toying with the security officer's left nipple with his toe. "A tragic waste of perfectly good man-flesh; maybe Deanna's trying to reform you." They both laughed softly, and Hicks both his hand up out of the water to slowly caress Geordi's foot. Geordi was one of the few people who ever referred to Hicks by his first name, to say nothing of a contraction of it. Hicks was a native of a colony world, New Malibu, on which the custom was to refer to last names; first names were reserved for family and close friends.

"I doubt it," Hicks responded easily. "I think she's just horny. Its been good to see Bev come out of her shell, though. . ." Deanna he'd been fucking for six months, but the Betazoid had only tentatively introduced Dr. Crusher to him sexually three months ago. Although emotionally firmly homosexual, Hicks was, physically speaking, sexually omnivorous, and found orgasms easily with women. His relationship with Counselor Troi was based on friendship. There was a word for it on his homeworld: "fuckbuddies". Deanna was one of the most direct, open-minded women he knew. He'd gotten to know Deanna through Tasha Yar, with whom the Betazoid had been friends (he also suspected they'd been sexually intimate as well). Deanna had essentially told him that she found him very attractive, and although she knew he was homosexual, she needed a little therapy herself on occasion, and would he mind very much if she fucked his brains out? A perceptive woman, Ms. Troi was, able as she was to deduce (correctly) that being gay did not necessarily rule out having sex with her. And so, Hicks helped Deanna indulge her desire to be sexually dominant, and, lately, her desire to help Beverly finally put the death of her husband behind her.

"I still think you're lying about Dr. Crusher," Geordi laughed. "I just can not see her in a threesome with you and Deanna. I can't even see her having sex, period."

"You'd be surprised," Hicks offered softly. "She's incredibly passionate, in a careful, deliberate sort of way." The blond paused to lick the soap delicately from between Geordi's toes, which drew a satisfying sigh of contentment from his friend. "And I've told you I don't know how many times that I'm just playing counselor for Deanna; she needs occasional release too, just like the rest of us." It was an intimate, familiar joke between the two friends, how Hicks was secretly in love with the beautiful Betazoid, how his homosexuality was all a ruse, etc. Geordi laughed. He now had both feet on Hicks' chest, rubbing slowly, sensually, over his sculpted pectoral and abs, with Hicks resting his arms at his sides, allowing Geordi as much access as he wanted. "But back to the question at hand, lover. What do I do about Major Vasquez?"

This was the question that had occupied the two men for the last several hours, even as they had gently but thoroughly explored the warm depths of each other's bodies. Why was Vasquez trying to drive him insane with sexual teasing, and, more importantly, why was it working? Hicks did not think that it was a simple case of sexual attraction. It was more like a power trip, the likes of which he'd never seen. The Cruzer had been at it now for over two months, letting him see her partially naked, working out especially intensely in front of him, letting him see her with Ro. And she had a way of touching him often in the course of their training of the squad. A hand on the ass or the back of the thigh. A gentle slap on the cheek. Often, when Vasquez gave him an order, she would "affirm" it with a light pound with the side of her fist against his chest. And lately, the teasing had been getting more intense. After working out together, she'd lately begun asking him to massage her back. Although, it had been a request, it had definitely been in the context of their relationship as superior officer and subordinate. She had a way of asking very directly, very explicitly, and firmly in her role as his commanding officer, for exactly what she wanted: to massage this muscle or that, to lighten or increase the pressure of his fingers. And she made the most amazingly intense sounds while he worked her muscles, so soft that they could be missed if not listened for, but there nonetheless. Tiny moans, small grunts, little sighs.

He had had to frankly admit to himself that she turned him on. Although he had never had any specific desire to participate of cross-species sexual interaction, he now found himself thinking about his superior in that way. What was she like in bed? Did she really have a cock? Which did she like better, getting fucked or doing the fucking? It was also easy to think of her as not specifically female. She was very masculine, in body hair, musculature, and demeanor. When dealing with him, Vasquez had a direct, intense, but deeply friendly intimacy that reminded Hicks strongly of homosexual attraction, the easy, relaxed acknowledgement of strong sexual tension, and the implicit promise of later, mutual satiation of that tension. It was bizarre, and compellingly sexual.

"It seems clear to me," Hicks reasoned, "that Vasquez really wants me to fuck her." He paused, lost momentarily in thought. "But," he began again, "she also been doing everything but scream in my face that she's in charge. . ."

"Maybe she's got a rape fantasy, too," Geordi surmised, in all honesty. "You know, wind you up in the hopes you'll go over the edge and force her."

Hicks thought that over. "No," he responded at last, "I don't think so; at least, not with me. She's so totally, I don't know. . . military, maybe she's worried about what things would be like after we fucked, if the chain of command would get screwed up."

"Then why doesn't she just talk to you about it?"

Hicks smiled after a moment. "Maybe its not the Cruzer Way," he intoned with mock-menace, causing both of them to laugh. "Seriously, though," he continued, "Cruzers have this big thing about command structure, so I hear. I get the definite feeling that something's going to happen, like she's setting me up somehow." The blond security officer smiled languidly. "Maybe its all an elaborate test, to see if I can prove my worth. He paused, as if listening to his own words replay in his head. "Christ, that sounds positively primitive!" They both laughed again, the easily laughter of two friends who trusted one another implicitly.

"Why don't you ask Deanna about it?" Geordi asked seriously. He had allowed one of his feet slide beneath the soapy water to slip between Hick's legs, and had been surprised to find his friend rock hard. It was clear that something was going on in his friend's head.

Hicks gave a secret little laugh.

"What?" Geordi asked, now intrigued. "What?!!"

Hicks' green eyes slid up to the blind orbs of his friend, now open and showing white. Geordi could almost sense the man's gaze. "I think Deanna's fucking her."

Geordi's jaw dropped. "You're kidding!" he exclaimed. "I'll never doubt you about our Counselor's sexual appetites again. How do you know?"

Hicks allowed his eyes to close as he reflected upon the events of last night. He'd been in Security. Vasquez had told him he'd be in charge all night. He'd assumed she'd been planning to spend some time with Ro. At about 02:00 he'd gotten a call from Deanna, who had quite innocently told him that she'd been going over crew psych profiles all evening, and really needed a good backrub. He'd told her that he was in charge in Security and couldn't leave, but Deanna had seemed oddly unsurprised. She had simply said that if he should happen to get free, to drop by. Then, only a few minutes later, Vasquez herself had come walking in. She'd taken over for him, and conveniently given him the rest of the evening off. And, she'd had the oddest little smile on her face. With a strange sense of being manipulated, he'd gone to Deanna's quarters, and had been very surprised to find Deanna completely restrained on her bed, her hands and feet spread and bound at the bed's corners with security binders, with a blindfold tied around her head and a synthi-rubber ball-gag firmly tucked into her mouth. Moreover, the Betazoid had been naked, sweaty, and covered in some kind of fluid the likes of which Hicks had never seen before, but which bore an oddly familiar scent. Sort of cinnamony and animal at the same time. It had taken him a moment to place the scent: Vasquez, after she'd been working out really hard. It had looked like semen to Hicks', although there whad been just an amazing amount of it; there hadn't been a single bit of Deanna that hadn't been liberally smeared with the strange, thin, slippery liquid. Deanna had been literally beside herself with sexual arousal, obviously unprepared for having been on the other end of the sexual dominance game, and clearly devastated by it. And there'd been a message, on the data terminal beside her bed (even the terminal had been sprayed with the weird fluid):

SHE HAS A RAPE FANTASY: INDULGE IT.

After a long moment of contemplation of the helpless Betazoid on her bed (and careful determination that the Betazoid had acurally been powerfully aroused), he'd done just that, raping her very thoroughly and rather forcefully, orally, vaginally, and anally. Afterwords, when he'd removed the gag, all she'd said was "thank you" in a small, intense voice that left no doubt as to the sincerity of that thanks.

Geordi listened with great interest to Hick's story, slowly stroking the man's penis with his foot. Its swollen glans was now poking above the water's surface, resting lightly against his belly. "Wow," was all Geordi could think to say. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Without a doubt, you lead the most interesting life of anyone I know. And for a gay guy," he finished impishly, "you get more pussy than most straight guys I know."

Hicks' laughed, enjoying Geordi's typically humorous insights. He also noticed that he was horny as hell, and started to eye Geordi's soapy, finely chiseled, ebony body with growing hunger. Geordi's foot stroked him rhythmically. "At any rate," Hicks said, "Deanna didn't mention that night again, and she hadn't said anything at all about Vasquez before that, so I assume that it's something she'd prefer not to get into with me. Thus," Hicks finished, having adopted a mock-scholarly tone, "I can't ask her for advice about what to do with my boss; classic conflict of interest."

Geordi laughed good-naturedly. "Well, thank you professor, for that scintillating description of shipboard sexual dynamics. And when may I read the published version?"

Geordi's laughter was abruptly cut off as Hicks, with cat-like reflexes, abruptly grabbed both of Geordi's wandering feet and yanked hard, pulling the Chief Engineer suddenly under the soapy water. He came up gurgling and sputtering, only to find lips covering his own, kissing him with urgent, but restrained passion. Without his visor, every nuance of the kiss was magnified, the gentle, insistence caress of his lips, the tentative, the exploratory probe of Hicks' tongue, the easy masculine power of Hicks' hand as it slipped behind Geordi's head, pulling him deeper into the kiss, which rapidly became quite hot.

Hicks broke the kiss gently, with a few parting licks at Geordi's lips. "Top or bottom?" he asked simply.

"Bottom, lover," Geordi responded softly, with no hesitation. Hicks picked him up with a soft, very sexy grunt of effort, and carried Geordi bodily, dripping and soapy, into the bedroom.

Much later that evening, Darryl Hicks returned to his quarters, to find a message waiting for him on his data terminal; it was a text-only message with no source identification:

THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR YOU INSIDE PANEL 631267, IN CRAWLWAY 8/J7F, DECK 12/13 JEFFRIES INTERCONNECT. CHECK IT OUT.

"What the hell?" Hicks whispered to himself. Out of curiosity, he accessed the Enterprise's deck plan file, and located the section of crawlway referred to in the message. It was an extremely out-of-the-way section of the ship, between the main reclamators on Deck 12 and the astrophysics research lab on Deck 13. He recalled the message and reread it several times.

"O.K., I'll play. . ."

The magbolts came out easily, falling neatly into Hicks' hand. He put away the phase inverter in its case, and carefully detached the faceplate of panel 631267 and put it aside. Tucked between two plasma conduits, he saw it immediately. A small metal box. Hicks picked it up carefully, noting that something inside it rattled. Without further preliminaries, he opened the box. Inside was an isolinear datachip and an odd, bladed tool, whose use he could not immediately identify. Setting it aside for the moment, he took out his security tricorder, and plugged the chip into it. He read, stunned.

LIEUTENANT HICKS:

MORE THAN I'VE WANTED ANYTHING IN A LONG TIME, I WANT TO FUCK YOU. I NEED TO SHOW YOU MY APPRECIATION FOR YOUR EXPERTISE, YOUR ACCEPTANCE, YOUR FRIENDSHIP, EVEN YOUR MASCULINITY. EVERY DAY I SEE YOU, THE MORE I WANT TO PUT MY HANDS ON YOU, MY MOUTH, MY CUNT. OUR GENEITCS DOOMS US TO THIS, SOME SAY; I THINK OF IT AS A GIFT, THIS NEED TO SHARE MYSELF WITH YOU, TO GIVE YOU AS MUCH PLEASURE AS YOU CAN STAND, AND MORE STILL. I AM A CRUZER; I WAS BRED TO SERVE. . .

I HAVE A PROBLEM , HOWEVER. YOU ARE SUCH AN INCREDIBLE SOLDIER, AND MAN, THAT I FEEL COMPELLED TO YIELD MORE OF MYSELF TO YOU THAN WOULD BE PRUDENT FOR EITHER OF US. YOU MAKE ME WANT TO SUBMIT YOU, SEXUALLY AND EMOTIONALLY, GIVE CONTROL TO YOU, AS I HAVE SELDOM FELT COMPELLED TO BEFORE. IT DOES NOT HELP THAT YOU ARE HOMOSEXUAL; CRUZERS ARE VERY AROUSED BY MEN WHO ARE COMFORTABLE ENOUGH, SURE ENOUGH OF THEMSELVES AND THEIR OWN SEXUALITY, TO HAVE SEX WITH EACH OTHER; ANOTHER GIFT FROM OUR DESIGNER, I THINK. IN FACT, I HAVE BEGUN TO FEEL THE INCIPIENT URGE TO BOND WITH YOU; BONDING WITH SUBORDINATE OFFICERS HAS BEEN KNOW TO OCCUR IN SOME CRUZERS, AND BELIEVE ME, IT MAKES THINGS VERY COMPLICATED.

THE FACT REMAINS THAT TO ME, YOU HAVE MORE THAN EARNED CLAIM TO MY BODY, AND I WANT YOU TO HAVE ME. MORE THAN THAT, I NEED TO GIVE MYSELF TO YOU. SO, HERE'S WHAT I PROPOSE. I HAVE DESIGNED A VERY SPECIAL SET OF ORDERS FOR YOU, ORDERS YOU CAN PERFORM FOR ME JUST BEFORE WE FUCK, THAT WILL SHOW ME, AND KEEP IN MY MIND, THAT YOU ARE MY SUBORDINATE, AND THAT I AM YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER. YOUR ORDERS ARE AS FOLLOWS:

1. IN THE BOX WITH THIS DATACHIP, YOU SHOULD ALSO HAVE FOUND AN ANCIENT TERRAN STRAIGHTRAZOR. I'VE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF SHARPENING IT MYSELF, IMPORTANT TO MY SENSE OF CONTROL. YOU'LL FIND THAT IT'S SHARP ENOUGH TO CUT METAL. WITH IT, I WANT YOU TO SHAVE OFF EVERY BIT OF MY PUBIC HAIR BEFORE YOU FUCK ME. SEEING YOU MAINTAIN YOUR CONTROL WHILE YOU PERFORM THIS MOST INTIMATE SERVICE WILL HELP ME KEEP SOME DOMINANCE, AND HELP ME VISUALIZE YOU IN A SURSERVIENT ROLE. FURTHERMORE, YOU MAY ONLY USE MY SEMEN OR YOURS TO LUBRICATE THE HAIR BEFORE YOU SHAVE IT. I DON'T CARE HOW YOU GET IT, SO LONG AS YOU DON'T FUCK ME BEFORE YOU FINISH SHAVING ME.

THIS WILL AGAIN HELP ME TO SEE YOU SERVING MY NEEDS BEFORE I ATTEMPT TO SERVE YOURS.

1. I PLAN TO RESIST YOUR EFFORTS TO COMPLETE THE ABOVE ORDER. THIS IS A SELFISH INDULGENCE ON MY PART, A CONSTRUCTION TO HELP ME REMEMBER THAT I'M NOT "GIVING" YOU ANY OF MY CONTROL, BUT RATHER ORDERING YOU TO TAKE IT FROM ME; THUS I NEVER ACTUALLY SURRENDER IT. I KNOW THIS SOUND NEEDLESSLY COMPLICATED, BUT BELIEVE ME, YOU ARE TRIPPING WIRES IN ME I NORMALLY RESERVE FOR COMMANDING OFFICERS. THIS ORDER IS VERY IMPORTANT. IN A WEEK, THE ENTERPRISE WILL MAKE ORBIT AROUND STARBASE 63. THE STARTOWN ASSOCIATED WITH THAT FACILITY IS PRETTY ROUGH. I PLAN TO TAKE MY SHORE LEAVE THERE. I WANT YOU TO FOLLOW ME, AND AT SOME POINT, OVERPOWER ME AND CARRY OUT ORDER #1. I WILL FIGHT YOU IF YOU GIVE ME THE CHANCE; I MAY EVEN ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU; MY EMOTIONAL INVOLVEMENT IN THIS SITUATION HAS BEEN VERY DIFFICULT TO SORT OUT. BE CAREFUL! I CAN TAKE ANYONE ON THE SHIP IN A STRAIGHT FIGHT, AND YOU'RE NO EXCEPTION. YOU'LL BE AT YOUR BEST IN CLOSE QUARTER FIGHTING, WHERE YOU CAN USE YOUR STRENGTH AND MASS AGAINST ME. YOUR RECON AND INFILTRATION SKILLS ARE ALSO THE BEST I'VE EVER SEEN; USE THEM. FINAL NOTE: I'LL BE PACKING MY AUTOPISTOL; YOU MIGHT WANT TO WEAR A BALLISTIC VEST.

I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO TALK TO ME ABOUT THESE ORDERS. I MERELY EXPECT THEM TO BE CARRIED OUT. FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION. LUCKILY, I WOULD NOT HAVE GIVEN THEM TO YOU UNLESS I WAS FULLY CONFIDENT OF YOUR ABILITY TO CARRY THEM OUT. THIS IS THE MOST DIFFICULT SET OF ORDERS I WILL EVER ASK YOU TO PERFORM. I ASK BECAUSE I WANT TO GIVE MYSELF TO YOU, AND YET, I WANT TO CONTINUE TO BE THE KIND OF COMMANDING OFFICER TO YOU THAT I KNOW YOU WOULD WANT.

TRUST ME: IF YOU ARE SUCCESSFUL IN CARRYING OUT THESE ORDERS, WE WILL BOTH HAVE A FANTASTIC TIME. GOOD HUNTING.

P.S. FREE ADVICE: I'LL BE PLAYING A ROLE ON SHORE LEAVE, A SEXUAL FANTASY I'VE BE TOYING WITH FOR A COUPLE OF WEEKS. I'LL PROBABLY BE PRETTY DEEP INTO THE PART; THAT MIGHT HELP YOU IF YOU GET INTO TROUBLE. ALSO, ONCE YOU GET DOWN TO SHAVING ME, I LOVE TO HAVE MY BELLY RUBBED, ESPECIALLY WITH SOME LUBRICANT.

P.P.S. IF, IN THE COURSE OF ORDER #1, SHOULD YOU SEE MY EYES TURN FROM BLACK TO A SORT OF MILK GRAY, THIS IS A SIGN OF INCIPIENT BONDING. RETURN TO THE SHIP IMMEDIATELY IF THIS HAPPENS; CONSIDER THAT A DIRECT ORDER.

(SIGNED) MAJOR JUANITA VASQUEZ, CHIEF OF SECURITY, USS ENTERPRISE.

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part b)

Darryl Hicks sat there, in the jeffries tube, for a long while, rereading the message until he had it memorized, and then reading it again. He didn't know whether to consider himself fortunate or rail at his fate. Strangely, he knew the entire question was unrelated to his sexual orientation; her request, her order, went far beyond questions of mere sexual preference. This was squad business. He suspected that if he were to undertake this set of orders and succeed, he would be part of a security team that would become legendary in its expertise. Hicks found himself liking that possibility.

Still, the consequences of failure were. . . nightmarish. --God, she's laid everything on the line-- Hicks caught himself thinking, with more than a little admiration for his commanding officer. He closed his eyes, centering himself and closing out everything else, a Klingonese trick Worf had taught him. What was his motivation?

The deepest respect he'd ever felt for a commanding officer. Sympathy for her difficulty in sorting out her relationship with him to her liking. Gratitude for the way she'd totally opened her soul to him. Sexual attraction of a kind he'd never felt before.

What was the basis for his hesitation?

Fear. She was a deadly killer. He needed an ace in the hole.

Abruptly, Hicks decided to do something that he knew the Major would kill him for if she were to find out. However, the moment he'd thought of it, Hicks knew it was the right thing to do.

Ten minutes later, Hicks was standing outside the door of Captain Jean-Luc Picard's quarters, pressing the chime.

"Come," the firm, controlled-steel voice commanded him from the speaker.

Hicks found Picard lounging at the large, comfortable desk that dominated the right side of his main living area, facing the broad bank of windows that looked out over the bow of the main saucer section, directly above Ten-Forward. A cup of half-drunk tea sat in a large mug by his left hand, and he looked up from his data display as Hicks entered. He was dressed in a casual, comfortable ruffled shirt and dark slacks, and on his feet were a well-used pair of mariner's deck shoes of an ancient design. He looked . . . relaxed.

"Good evening, Lieutenant," Picard began, by way of greeting. "Come in." He smiled warmly, his blue eyes missing nothing. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"Actually, something stronger, if you've got it, sir," Hicks requested evenly.

Picard looked at Hicks measuringly for a moment, before motioning him to have a seat on the couch beneath the windows. "Scotch all right?" he asked, reaching into an old, weathered sea chest against the wall next to his desk, under a portrait of the Enterprise.

"Yeah," Hicks replied. He accepted the drink gratefully, noting that the Captain had poured him a double, neat. He also noted that the Captain had poured one for himself. "To open doors," Picard offered, raising his glass. Hicks touch his rim to the Captain's, before taking a healthy slug. Picard sipped. An awkward silence descended in the room.

"You look like the proverbial man with something on his mind," Picard prompted gently. "Anything I can help with?"

Hicks looked at Picard, stared him hard in the eye, for a long moment. Picard accepted this, waiting patiently for Hicks to decide whether he could trust him. "It all depends," the blond security officer said finally, "on how far off the record you're willing to talk."

Picard, as it turned out, was willing to talk way off the record. The two men talked long into the night, each sharing their perceptions about Major Vasquez, honestly and frankly. In the end, Picard hadn't really had much advice for Hicks, other than the benefit of long years dealing with alien cultures and races, and a tall tale or two relating some of the more interesting encounters he'd had with such cultures. But that alone seemed to give Hicks whatever it was that he needed to confront this most unusual of situations. Hicks thanked him for his input, and strode out like a man on a mission.

After Hicks had left, Picard spent a long while staring at the onrush of stars, thinking that the young lieutenant was in for an interesting shore leave. He also decided that it was time to begin taking some steps of his own to solidify his own relationship with his new Security Chief.

With deliberate intent, he contacted Counselor Troi.

In his beaten, brown leather jacket, a plain white t-shirt and his well-worn sythidenim pants, Second Security Officer Darryl Hicks looked every inch the sleazy, slightly-creepy guy that he'd intended to portray. The look went well with the dilapidated hotel room he now found himself sitting in.

Hicks mentally replayed the steps he'd taken to get to this point, studying through the dirty, half-open window the similarly dilapidated hotel across the narrow, dank smelling alley from his current location. Vasquez had taken her normal shore leave rotation, beaming down to the main Starbase transporter facility, carrying one small olive-green Marine Corps duffel bag. She'd been wearing her usual stretch-vest and camos, no phaser, but with her autopistol hanging at her thigh. He'd rigged a security tricorder to track her combadge, and had beamed down a minute after she had.

After calibrating his tricorder, Hicks had deduced that his boss had stepped into a nearby lavatory. He almost hadn't recognized her when she emerged. Her fresh camos had been exchanged for a substantially more worn, faded pair. Her vest had also disappeared, replaced by a simple, sweat-damp Marine Corps tank top. Vas' Marine Corps dog tags had appeared outside of the tank top. All her rank and insignia pins had disappeared. She had obviously mussed her hair up a bit, having wetted it down, and then roughly slicked it back. And the look on her face; that had amazed Hicks most of all. His supremely cool, totally together commanding officer had adopted the grim, determined, fierce look of a young, combat-wired Marine grunt. She had looked ten years younger: brash, cocky, but a bit frayed around the edges, as if the madness of her chosen profession was barely peeking through the veneer of calm. She had looked like a buck private with ten credits in her pocket, a weekend pass, and a taste for danger. Hicks had shivered slightly; she'd looked creepier that he had.

He'd followed her to the far end of the commercial starport, to the Starfleet Marine Base. There, he'd watched her go into a very rough-looking Marine bar just outside the base gates. She'd come out an hour later with three young Marine males in tow, two humans and a scummy-looking, dog-headed Vargr. They'd laughed the rough, intimate laugh of compatriots sharing a similarly violent way of life. Had he not known differently, Hicks would have thought that the foursome had been serving together for years.

The group had made their to a nearby area of town, a seedy commercial district literally just over the fence from the Marine base. Hicks remembered smiling grimly; the place had been thick with whores and prostitutes of every description, serving the Marines flowing through the base. The males with Vas had begun to put their hands on her, caressing her butt, giving it playful slaps. These she returned with interest to her companions' chests and faces. It had been rather like watching Malibu clawcat cubs roughhousing, except with a clear, darkly sexual overtone. Wild kids with big guns.

Vas had finally led her newfound buddies to a sleazy, run-down three-story flophouse, which on its erratic arc-sign proudly advertised "cheap, hourly rates." Before they had gone in, he'd distinctly heard Vas tell her buddies, "I hope you boys been eatin' your cornbread," giving the tallest, an ugly mean-looking son-of-a-bitch, a firm slap on his hard, muscular ass. The look she'd given the soldier had veritably screamed, "I am going to fuck you raw."

Although he hadn't followed her in immediately, a bit of fine-tuning on his tricorder had allowed Hicks to pinpoint Vas' final location on the second floor, to the left-hand side of the building. There had been another cheesy hotel bordering the building on that side, separated only by a narrow alley. Perfect. The only problem had been that if Hicks had tried to check in alone, the proprietor would probably have called the shore patrol; nobody used these places for anything except getting laid. So Hicks had surprised himself by assessing the talent working the street at that time, looking for a likely candidate. He'd briefly considered a male hooker, of which there were perhaps twenty within range of his voice. But ultimately, he'd decided on a female, to help him into the mood of what he was about to attempt.

So that selection had brought Hicks into the next-door flophouse, and subsequently up to this rather squalid third-floor room. He taken the floor above that which Vas was on in the neighboring building, so that his angle of view would be better. The ultra-scuzzy man behind the rental counter had groused, but he'd told him that heights turned him on, pausing to feel up his hired companion. They came cheap in this part of town; he'd parted with exactly twenty credits (with ten more to follow) for full rights to the girl's mouth and cunt, and had options on anal penetration for another ten. Christ!

Hicks had pulled up a beaten-up, weird-smelling chair to the window. He now sat, reclined and relaxed, scanning the opposite building's mostly open windows with his field optical enhancer, for signs of his quarry, while the hooker between his legs hungrily went down on him. Hicks paused momentarily to contemplate the top of her bobbing, tousled head. Through the purple dye, he could see strawberry-blond roots. He didn't know her name, and he doubted she was older than fifteen. Hicks found himself vaguely disgusted and turned-on at the same time, truly a remarkable state of mind. The girl slid his now firmly erect penis from her mouth, admiring her handiwork.

"Shit. . . big!" she murmured, before attacking it again. And so he was.

Hicks' penis was eleven inches long, very pale and smooth, almost hairless. Surprisingly, the long, erect length was very uniform in thickness (which was substantial) from glans to base, rather like a carefully sculpted bar of pale steel. A pair of rather large testicles, again almost hairless, were slung beneath the proud shaft, and the young hooker took particular care to caress gently, wetting them with her own saliva. He could feel himself begin to seep into her mouth.

Raising the field glasses again, Hicks began to scan each open window across the alley. The warm, humid air of the planet lent itself to open windows; none of these buildings looked like they had working plumbing, to say nothing of air conditioning. He tapped the magnification pad.

Straight fucking, straight sucking, more straight fucking. One sleazy male, partially dressed (a Marine, judging from his regulation olive underwear) paying out worn credit notes to a naked, similarly sleazy female. They both looked sweaty and had the sensually-worn, post-fuck look of satisfaction. Another nude female inserting a wicked-looking sexual appliance into another male's straining anus (another Marine, judging from his tattoos). Hicks lingered on a rather hot homosexual four-way going, three male hookers giving it hard and deep to muscular young marine. --He must have had some money-- Hicks though bemusedly, about to scan to the next window. . . and stopped. He realized with the clarity of thought bourn of service in Starfleet that he'd jumped to several incorrect conclusions. Fighting a certain giddiness associated with the feeling of being on the verge of a major discovery, Hicks re-examined the sexual drama being played out in front of him. He didn't feel himself swelling larger in the hooker's voracious mouth, dripping steadily.

First, and most importantly, the muscular marine getting fucked was not a man, but a woman. Secondly, of the three male hookers, two were humans and one was a Vargr, and they were not hookers at all, but marines also. The scene filling the enhancer's field of view now had Hick's full and complete attention. He knew almost at once how wrong he'd been, mentally chiding himself. One of the males chose that moment to move slightly, and there, on the stained bed, the body of Major Juanita Vasquez, his commanding officer, was revealed in all its muscular, sweaty glory. Between the shortness of her thick black hair and her build, Hicks could see how he had mistaken her gender.

Hicks activated the enhancer's directional, tight-beam sound pickup, and, unclipping the mastoid skin speaker from the glasses, licked it and pressed it to the bone just behind his left ear. Immediately grunting moans and heavy breathing leaked into his head, transmitted via his cranium. His eyes drank in the scene filling the viewfinder. She lay on her back on the bed with the Marines crowded around her, indulging themselves sexually with her; still, Hicks had a excellent view as the Vargr spread his commander's legs apart, moving between them. Amid urgent encouragements from the other two men to "lock up with her", the Vargr fed the enormity of his slick, dog-like penis up her moist cunt and began to fuck her with quick, powerful stabs. Vas let out a really low moan and began to grunt in time to the Vargr's thrusts. Even though the other two men held the woman's broad shoulders against the headboard, it was clear that she was a very willing participant in the lusty action. Her grunts became a wet moan as one of the men fed his huge, sinewy cock between her full red lips. The third man contented himself with rubbing his similarly well-endowed weapon all over her face. She began to alternate back and forth between the two generous shafts, attentively sucking on each dripping pole.

Hicks found himself marveling once again at Vasquez' fantastic body. She was in superb physical shape, with a distinct but sexy masculine flavor to her swelled biceps and broadly muscled back and shoulders, an effect heightened by the fact that she didn't shave. There were thick mats of dark, wiry hair nestled under each of her powerful arms, and her pubic area was, of course, more akin to an animal than man. Her Latin-extracted Cruzer heritage was proudly evident in myriad ways. The deep black color of her hair. The olive complexion of her skin, a perfect blend of honey and cream.

Hicks realized belatedly that he really hadn't any idea of Vasquez' age. She must be around thirty, given her level of advancement, he decided, as he began to thrust slowly into the girl's mouth. But his C.O. didn't look it, especially now. She appeared quite young, Hicks noted, Perhaps in her very early twenties, if that. Her build was very compact, and she looked even shorter that her five-foot-and-change height indicated, given the giants surrounding her. --God, I'll bet she hates short jokes!-- Hicks mused silently. Yet despite the firm, rippling bulges of her muscles, everywhere from her calves to her ass to her arms, Vas wasn't stringy or veiny, like some woman who weight-trained seriously. The woman, to Hicks's mind, had the perfect amount of body fat, smoothing hard, muscular bulk into something infinitely sexier, more sleekly sensual. The masculinity of her build had a smooth, unquestionably feminine flow. And, most importantly, she hadn't lost an ounce of her fantastic tits. They were incredibly firm twin globes of bronzed flesh, and looked really big on her compact frame without being unmanageable. The wide aureoles were deep black, again testifying to her Cruzer heritage, and the bright red nipples were prominently erect and protruding the center of each. But now, Vas sported an addition, a small gold ring that bit into, and pierced, the wet, sticky bud of her right nipple. Kinky.

Other than that bit of jewelry, and a small gold crucifix she wore around her neck, intertwined with her dog tags, her body was unadorned, except by tattoos, scars, sweat, and thick, matted pubic hair. Hicks examined his superior intimately, from head and foot, cataloging each feature as a space explorer would catalog stars. He'd already seen the Marine Corps globe-and-anchor tattooed on swell of her right bicep, but he'd never seen the small but elaborate Special Forces tattoo adorning the lower left quadrant of her ridged abdomen. He tapped the magnifier pad to its maximum setting, and closely examined the blue-green-red-black design of a blood-dripping dagger surmounting a pocked moonscape. He could just make out the fine detail of the banner below it, etched on her sweat-beaded skin: "First In - Last Out", the motto of an elite drop commando. The dagger seemed to undulate as Vas alternately tensed and relaxed her abs.

"Bite me just a little, honey," Hicks directed the girl between his sweat-moist thighs, as he continued to watch the scene playing out a world away from, and yet not twenty feet from him. She obligingly began to gently nip him just behind the glans. "That's good, baby. Your tip's going up all the time. . ."

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part c)

Hicks noted a faint circular pucker high on her chest above her left breast. Bullet hole. She had another scar, a distinct, slightly ragged white line, standing out against the coffee skin, approaching a foot in length, starting just below her right armpit and curving over the broad sinew of her right shoulder, to disappear on her back. Finally, the woman possessed a circular, whitish-striated scar with a slightly mottled texture on the upper right quadrant of her abdomen, close to the sculpted centerline of her abs and just above her belly button; it was over two inches in diameter. It looked to Hicks like an exit wound, like something had gone through her in the back and come out the front. Hicks found his respect for this strange woman growing. Whatever it was that gave her that scar, it probably gutted her, partially disemboweling her. Massive local infection, especially if it occurred in theater, and fairly recent, within the last couple of years definitely. --God, what a survivor!-- Vasquez also had a small but colorful tattoo on the upper inside surface of her right thigh, a delicate red rose; again, he could just make out the banner below it. To boldly go. . . From the dedication plate of the Enterprise. Well, that had to be recent. The large, textured oval of discolored, pinkish skin on her right shin he'd already seen.

Finally, Hicks realized that he was going to have his work cut out for him with the razor he now carried in his pocket; his commander was one hairy bitch. He'd noticed the hair under her arms before, and caught glimpses of the pubic strip on her abdomen when she'd used him as cover while she changed vests on the ship. But now, with her body explicitly revealed to him, he saw the distinctly non-human side of her. The short, but bristly hair adorning her pubic area looked more like an animal's pelt than human pubic hair. He found himself looking forward to using the razor on her. But first, he'd have to catch her.

Hicks saw that his commander's three companions were thoroughly enjoying themselves. He noted a certain irony in her choice of a Vargr as a sexual partner. Although a separately evolved species, Vargrs were in many ways akin to Cruzers. They bore no genetic similarities to Terran dogs, but they sure as hell looked like a cross between a German Sheppard and a human being. Like humans, Vargr were bipedal, although their knee joints flexed backward instead of forward. However, their heads looked strikingly like those of Terran canines, furry, with snouts and upraised, dog-like ears. In many areas of space, Vargrs were openly referred to as dog-men. Fur covered there bodies everywhere, and they possessed fully mobile tails about 12-18 inches long. They hailed from Orion space, and were traders by nature. Some called them the Ferengi of Orion, and it was not a flattering reference. Vargr tended to be greedy and self-interested, and could be rather crude in personal habits. Where as Vas was a canine-influenced work of art, the Vargr was more like a mutt, with stringy brown-gray fur. However, Vargr (the correct plural usage) were quick and had excellent senses, which made them valuable to the Marines.

One of the men that Vas had been sucking steadily on, the the smaller brunette Marine, began to grunt forcefully. Dispassionately, Hicks noted that the Cruzer gave very good head, using her lips and tongue in concert to pleasure the man kneeling beside her. But most importantly, she was eager. It showed in the way she hungrily sucked and licked the huge shaft, almost anxious for his orgasm, savoring each preliminary drop of his rich male seed. She was concentrating intently on the act, her mouth and throat exploring every possible avenue of pleasure for the man's sexual satisfaction. Without realizing it, Hicks began to bend the corner of the durasteel frame that comprised the arm of his chair. He'd been unconsciously gripping, worrying it slowly back and forth. It flexed with a soft, repetitive creak.

Suddenly, the man gave a lusty shout of, "Oh, SHIT!" Vas also issued a rather wet-sounding groan from deep in her throat. She reached up, closing her small fist around his iron-hard penis, and eased the big tool from her mouth. It emerged jetting copious amounts of white ejaculate, creaming all over her face, neck, and chest. He wet her caramel skin thoroughly before his orgasm began to subside, and with an intent look of fierce concentration, she licked all over the dripping head of the man's now-softening erection, cleaning his tool of the same slick deposits which now dripped from the full mounds of her tits. The Vargr, upon observing his cohort's powerful orgasm, gave a throaty growl of excitement. He spread the woman's legs wider and, holding them aloft to each side, he began to work the huge knot of flesh at the base in his penis into her cunt. It appeared to Hicks for all the world that his commanding officer was getting fucked by a huge, anthropomorphized dog. Hicks was now able to observe, no longer quite so dispassionately (he didn't notice that the arm of the chair now lay on the floor, and that he had started on the other arm) Vas' intimate areas more clearly, now that the Vargr was holding her legs open.

Her belly was rigid with strained arousal, and the curly, wiry trail of jet-black pubic hair leading up to her belly button was standing up with excitement. Her pubic thatch was dense but close-cropped, and was matted with sweat. The Vargr was eagerly exploring her body, his slick red cock stabbing her deeply and relentlessly. Her dilated vagina bore almost no discernible outer lips, almost as if the tight-looking slit yielded directly to the wet inner flesh. However, the tender inner lips of her vulva clung tightly to the throbbing organ as it slid up and back in the moist channel. Finally, if Hicks had any doubts about Vas' origins, they were laid to rest, for jutting up from a tuft of black pubic hair at the top of her wet slit was Vas' cock. It was enormous, its glistening shaft standing erect and proud from her belly, looking weird and alien and almost unimaginably butch. She was a Cruzer, all right! The firm, bright red shaft poked the Vargr in the belly with each thrust he took into her body. Neither participant seemed to mind. As Hicks watched, the Vargr pulled his slippery, red cock out of Vas vagina and rubbed it all over Vas' slippery red cock. Whereas Vas dribbled clear, slick fluid, the Vargr was oozing a thick, whitish-yellowish, mucous-like secretion from his penis, which appeared quite sticky; it clung to Vas huge erection rather like glue. Hicks found himself repelled, and yet fascinated. Two aliens representing two ends of an evolutional spectrum: one near-human, artifically manipulated, and one natural, and wholly inhuman. Hicks quite preferred the artificial creation.

The two men also watched with open lust and no small fascination the sight of Vas' and the Vargr's red, slick cocks sliding against each other. They kidded their Vargr compatriot because Vas was bigger than the Vargr was, by a fair margin (12+ inches versus about nine). In response, the Vargr hunched his narrow hips and slid the whole of his penis back into Vas' cunt. He growled in a totally animal way. Hicks could hear the men's filthy conversation intimately.

"Fuck! Look at her cock, man! She's fucking hung like a horse!" the smaller, younger brunette Marine exclaimed as he rubbed his own erect penis over Vas' face. He slapped her cheek lightly with it.

"Ain't you never seen a Cruzer before?" the big, ugly blond Marine said, his lips curling into a lust-induced sneer as he thrust slowly but very deeply into Vas' sucking mouth, throat fucking her. "They're all hung like that." He grinned at his Vargr buddy. "How's that cock massage, amigo?"

The Vargr looked like he was getting close to an orgasm. His long tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth, and he was drooling onto Vas' stomach. Moreover, his breath was coming in rapid pants. He gave a barking cry in his native language, before graoning in Standard, "My bitch is TIGHT!" The big man laughed roughly and slapped the Vargr on the butt, encouraging him to fuck.

Vas looked to Hicks like she was on a drop or something. Her visage was one of fierce concentration, as she sought the big man's orgasm. --She loves her body, takes really good care of it, and has no second thoughts about using it in ways that please her.-- Hicks mused. --She must know that the Three Stooges here are going to talk about her; the hot Cruzer fuck-machine they met at Starbase 63. She just doesn't give a fuck. You're a very intriguing lady, Vas.-- The Cruzer was panting slightly now, even though the men were doing most of the work. She was quite visibly aroused, Hicks noted. She was studying the lewd connection of the Vargr's body to hers. His weird cock was spreading her sex wide open, and the other two men were urging their non-human companion to interlock his sexual apparatus fully with hers. They seemed to have witnessed this before.

"Come on, man! Put it all the way in," coached the smaller man whose semen now adorned the Vas' body. He began rubbing his slick juices all over her full tits and muscular chest, his hands slipping across the wet, dark skin.

"Yeah, man, arf arf. I think she likes it!" chimed the big one, rubbing his own cock rhythmically. It leaked against her cheek. Finally, the Vas' cunt slid over the Vargr's penis-knot like a mouth swallowing an apple whole. She let out a really low moan, and suddenly a very relaxed, almost kinky smile spread across her face, as if a very dark need had just been filled. The Vargr howled like a banshee, beginning his orgasm cycle.

The shaved cheek of his right buttock, the one which bore his globe-and-anchor tattoo of the Marine Corps, tensed and relaxed in regular rhythm in synchronicity with his other (furred) asscheek, and his short, bristly tail jerked up and down as the dog-like creature began to share his copious sexual fluids with the woman.

"I guess I'm not the only one who likes it, pendejo. " She spoke, and Hicks very nearly came just then. Her voice veritably dripped sensuality, lust, indescribable kink. This was no burn-out case, or psych candidate. Vas was really, honestly enjoying herself. Hicks suspected that this strange woman could take her three lovers apart with her bare hands if she had really wanted to. But that wasn't what she wanted. Not at all.

"Ohh, shit!" she groaned, as the Vargr probed her body deeply. "That feels so fucking good!" She licked at the big man's cock, pointing directly in her face. "Wait a sec, man," she told the Vargr, repositioning her hips slightly. "Yeah, do it right there, perrito." The Vargr, growling sensuously, and obligingly slid deeper into her cunt from the angle she had indicated, and was thrilled by the sensation of his pointy cock-tip spearing into her cervix. The woman groaned loudly, a long, hearty "Ahhhh" that clearly indicated that the Vargr had exactly fulfilled her lusty desire. Hicks marveled at the smooth sexiness of her voice. It was a warm, smoky caress of intimate passion with an sleek edge of latent violence, somewhat highly pitched, but at the same time throaty and intense.

A flush was beginning to appear on the Vas' chest. The man who'd already come slid his hand down her wet chest, moving across her stomach. He paused briefly to scratch lightly in the silky pubic hair trailing up her belly before continuing toward his target: her fantastic penis. He grasped it gently between thumb and forefinger, and lifted the heavy, swollen shaft from her belly, causing Vas to give a sort of short, high bark. She shivered all over as the man stroked it up and down.

"Shit, man, whad'ya do, get in the wrong line when they were handing out cocks to the guys? What a fucking mutant!" He laughed heartily at his own joke, and wondered for a moment why his fellow human buddy didn't follow suit. But then he felt what both Hicks, laughing gently himself, and his bigger buddy had seen. Vas had pulled out a large autopistol from under her pillow and was now nestling its blunt, deadly muzzle directly under the man's balls.

"What was that?" the woman asked with deadly calm. The Vargr had not stopped fucking her, and did not look like he intended to.

"Uh, nothing! Shit. . ."

After a moment's pause, the woman spoke again to the man, caressing his balls lightly with the gun. "Tell you what. . . I'll give you fifteen seconds to get the fuck out of here before I paste the wall with your cojones. That gives you just enough time to leave me the 20 credits you owe me for the blowjob, but I wouldn't recommend trying to get dressed. Comprende, cabron?" The other man was watching with detached interest. "Shit, you'd think he'd never seen a Cruzer before," he muttered. "Dumb-ass."

"Jesus Chr. . ." he began, but Vasquez jabbed him firmly with the gun, and the muzzle actually entered the man's anus. "Jesu Cristo has got nothing to do with this." The man leaped off the bed as if shot already. He grabbed his pants off the floor and fumbled for his wallet.

"Nueve, ocho, siete. . ." she continued distinctly, the pistol steady as a rock in her outstretched, muscular arm. Bleating a single, startled "Shit!" the man let all the money in his wallet spill to the floor. He got the fuck out, still butt naked. Hicks finished destroying the other arm of his chair. That seemed to turn the girl on no end. He looked at her for a moment.

And smiled warmly. "O.K., honey, climb up here and fuck me." He helped the eager young hooker into his lap, and settled her on his cock. She could only take about half of him inside her young body, but that was more than enough for both of them; she was impossibly tight. Shivering, she clung to his sweaty chest, lifting herself up and down

Hicks, his eyes slightly glazed, lifted the field enhancer once more to his eyes. They were getting back down to business; indeed, the horny Vargr had kept fucking the hot-blooded Cruzer during her whole exchange with the now departed marine. She had now rolled over on top of him, his exploding penis still firmly locked up in her vagina, and was displaying her sexy caramel ass to the big Marine. She directed him to enter her anally.

"Party time," Vas told him.

An hour later, after Hicks had finished with his hired entertainment (and tipped her 300 credits), Hicks was walking the hallways of the sleaze palace across the alley. He was seeking Room 214. His Cruzer quarry had finally finished with the Vargr and the big Marine about five minutes earlier (in singularly disgusting fashion; a Vargr climaxing looked very much like a human blowing his nose, thick, yellowish-white, and stringy - Yuck!) and, after bidding farewell to her grateful companions of the last hour, she had disappeared into the bathroom, where he couldn't see her. Hicks whistled softly to himself, for he was quite happy at the moment. He was looking forward to carrying out his orders. Vas had a killer body, an obviously high xenotolerance level (not many woman willingly fuck with Vargr), and, most importantly, Hicks admired her: her strength, her stamina, her cool, her total honesty. She was dedicated to living; it was kind of contagious.

"Hey, pretty boy! Where's your momma?"

Hicks had seen them coming down the hall from the opposite direction, and already knew that they were going to be trouble before they had even opened their big mouths. A familiar-looking Vargr marine and his human compatriot. Both were still buttoning up their duty jackets. --Oh, thank you God! Was I that good in a past life?-- Hicks let them advance to within about ten feet.

"Hey, I think he's lost!" the Vargr growled snidely. "I'll bet his momma is on her back right now, entertaining the troops!" Both idiots cracked up over this. They were moving closer. A lesser man than Hicks would probably ended up in the alley dumpster. Or gang-raped in a closet. When you came right down to it, a lot of marines were pretty serious bastards. --That's what you get when you combine high-tech weaponry with low-tech brains-- he thought. Worse, the two males were flush from what would probably be, for them, the single most exciting sexual conquest of their lives. They were both jazzed with macho swagger.

Unfortunately for both marines, they incorrectly analyzed Hicks's easy smile as bravado. It was a bad mistake.

"Not a good idea, boys," Hicks said evenly, the easy smile not leaving his face. The two Marines paused momentarily. Then the smell caught him. The Vargr reeked. He'd heard about the smell of Vargr's when they achieved orgasm; heavy, omnipresent, gamy, and tenacious. And they came in buckets. Which meant, of course, that Vas was going to smell like she'd been sleeping in a stable for a week, especially since he'd personally witnessed this particular Vargr pull his engorged penis, knot and all, from Vas' vagina (at her urging) and spray her entire torso with his bestial seed. Immediately after that, he had urinated all over the gasping Cruzer. The security officer's smile took an evil turn.

To his credit, a glint of doubt crept into the eye of the big Marine, and for a moment, he looked like he'd seen something in Hicks that was best left undisturbed. Unfortunately, true to his species, the Vargr was not nearly so discerning. He lunged for Hicks, with awesome speed. Hicks was prepared though, and as the Vargr charged him, he pivoted on his hip and drove home a devastating side-kick which caught the furry alien square in the solar plexus, his toe forming a point harder than durasteel. The Vargr suddenly forgot how to breathe. Marine training took over for the big man, who unconsciously joined the fight to help his compatriot. Hicks' kick to the now prone, gasping Vargr had put his back momentarily to the big man, who tried to exploit the advantage by grabbing Hicks around the throat from behind. That was just fine with Hicks, who rammed his elbow into the man's chest, just under the ribcage and into the diaphragm. It was now the Marine's turn to forget the basics of respiration, and while he tried to remember, Hicks rammed the back of his head into the man's nose. The big Marine became disinterested in continuing the fight, and slid to the ground like a bagful of sand.

"Fleet 1, Marines zippo," Hicks offered to the incapacitated twosome.

Hicks took a moment to straighten his leather jacket, surveying his handiwork. The big Marine was out for the count, and would probably remain so for several hours; his nose seemed to be broken. Hicks surprised himself by feeling an elated satisfaction over that. Meanwhile, the Vargr lay on his back, making sorry little wheezing sounds. Pathetic. . .

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part d)

Hicks knelt beside the Vargr. A small but lethal hand phaser seemed to appear in the security officer's hand, as if by magic. Hicks pressed it against the creature's lower eyelid. The scent of the Vargr's orgasm seemed to emanate from the creature's every pore.

"How much did you pay her?" Hicks asked in an icy voice, mildly surprised at the amount of emotion in it.

"Sh-h-h-she only ch-h-charged us half, man!" The Vargr could not help but look at the wicked snub point of the phaser. It literally filled his field of vision.

"And how much is that?" Hicks felt the muscles in his neck straining. Was his finger tightening on the trigger stud?

"Oh, shit. . . Thirty apiece man! Thirty!"

A long moment of silence passed between the two. Then Hicks said simply, "I think that the lady is worth more than that." He paused again for a moment before adding, "Don't you?" He smiled at the marine. It was not comforting.

"Oh sweet fuck! L-l-look man. My wallet is in my pocket. . ."

"Why don't you take it out?"

"R-r-right. . ." The Vargr slowly drew out his wallet, ever mindful of the gun pointed into his face.

Hicks bent closer to the Vargr. "I think that she's worth at least double." Each word seemed to whisper --I want to kill you---. "That's 120 apiece, 240 total. I hope you've got it. . ." The smell of the Vargr was really making Hicks' upset. To think of this smell on his commanding officer. . .

"Uhh, yeah! Shit yeah!" With trembling fingers, the marine counted out the bills.

"Good. Your friend can pay you back later." Hicks and the marine looked at each other for a moment. Hicks showed no sign of letting the man up. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

The Vargr now acquired a look of terror. That didn't happen often with marines. He was panting, his eyes wild, fear dripping from every pore. "Jesus, man, what? WHAT?"

Hicks smiled icily at him. "The tip."

The Vargr Marine chose that moment to urinate into his camo pants, which did not help his already funky odor. He gingerly took out the only money left in his wallet, which consisted of four rather worn single credit notes. He belatedly offered them to Hicks, along with a lame smile. Involuntarily, Hicks's smile warmed a little. Marines! Hicks took the bills, and then after a moment handed back two of them. "Buy yourself a drink. You look like you could use one." Hicks abruptly stood up, and offered his hand to the Marine. He took it warily, and stood up as well, albeit a lot more painfully.

That's when Hicks turned to deal with the sound he'd heard a moment before: a door opening. He was not surprised to find a huge black marine, wearing naught but a white towel wrapped around his thickly-muscled frame, lining Hicks up in the sights of his autopistol. He had "sergeant" written all over him, right down to the cigar clamped firmly in one side of his mouth. He surveyed the scene with quick darts of his alert eyes, never taking them off Hicks for more than a moment. He chewed on his cigar for a moment before speaking.

"You wanna put down your ray-gun, son?"

Hicks smiled. He hadn't been called "son" since his survival training course at Starfleet Academy, which had been taught by a Marine. It brought back memories. "Yessir," he said simply, putting the phaser carefully on the dirty carpet. He then backed up a pace and put his hands behind his head. He smiled again.

Chewing heartily, the sergeant actually switched the cigar to the other side of his mouth, breathing smoke through his nostrils. --My God, it's actually lit!-- Hick marveled to himself. Looking past Hicks for a moment, he motioned to the wheezing grunt. "What's your ship, dog-face?"

"Uhh, the Savage, sir."

The black man grinned an evil grin. "Gorman's ship, eh? Might have known." He sized up the trembling soldier. "Well, what did we learn today, boy?" Hicks tried hard to keep the smile on his own face to manageable proportions.

"Uhh, uhhh," the dumb Vargr seemed to be taxing his brain to the limit. "Oh yeah! Tip the hookers, and pay 'em what they deserve, SIR." He grinned stupidly. The sergeant shook his head sadly at Hicks. "Don't know where there gettin' this shit nowadays." He motioned to his unconscious companion. "Pick up your buddy and split."

The Vargr actually saluted. "Yes, SIR!" he almost shouted, as if it were the best suggestion he'd heard in his life. He did as he was told.

At that moment, a enormous-breasted, nude blond human female appeared from behind the sergeant. She slid her pale hand across the sergeant's broad washboard chest before slipping it underneath his towel, caressing him intimately. "Are you done yet?" she asked sweetly.

"In a minute, babe," the sergeant replied, not stopping the blond's wandering hands. Nor did he lower the gun. "That was a perfect side-kick you laid on those pussies. Marine style. You done some Corps time, son?"

He lazily cocked the hammer on his pistol, to emphasize his disinterest in being lied to.

Hicks was already respecting this sergeant more and more. "No," he told the huge black man, "But I've been getting some personal instruction from one."

The sergeant chewed some more. The blond had now moved to her knees in front of the big marine, and was energetically fellatiating him. The gun did not waver one bit, as if it were an extension of the man's fingers. "I know just about every Marine in this sector," he told Hicks, breathing smoke. "Suppose you tell me who your teacher is. . ."

Hicks' evil smile was back. "Major Juanita Vasquez. Can't miss her; Cruzer, short, textured white scar the size of your hand on her right leg, I think she said it was an acid burn, and fucking hairy."

After some more chewing, the sergeant grim visage slowly spread into a wide, genuine smile. He laughed to most jovial, honest laugh that Hicks had ever seen. "Since Vas is on the Enterprise now, that must make you Fleet!" The sergeant finally lowered the gun, and stroked the back of the woman's head currently serving his sexual needs. "Don't that beat all!"

"Sorry," Hicks offered politely. He lifted the lapel of his leather jacket, revealing his Starfleet combadge.

The Marine threw his head back and laughed even harder. Then, quieting, he told Hicks. "Sorry 'bout those boys. I'll speak to Lt. Gorman about the situation. Privately." Hicks was sorry he wouldn't be around for that conversation. "Two of his bucks get their asses kicked by a 'Fleet boy, I'll make sure that whole sector knows about it." He bent his head down to the woman. "Alright, sugar, that's enough of that. You go back inside and wait for me, and I'll be along shortly." The blonde pouted, reluctantly removing her lips from the Marine's engorged member. She kissed the black man, letting him taste himself on her lips, before scampering back into his room. "If you're going to be in port for a while, I'd be my pleasure to show you 'round my ship, intro you to my C.O.

We'd love to hear how Vas is doing among the boys in blue; that little badass has a rep as long as this sector!"

"Sorry, wish I could," Hicks politely declined. "And you call her little again, I'm gonna test your speed on the draw. . ."

The big marine smiled broadly. He put up his hands in a gesture of non-combatance, nodding with respect to the Starfleet officer. "Well, when you see Major Vasquez again, tell her Master Sergeant Apone, off the Paine, sends his best." Lifer marines were so polite. Hicks loved them.

"You know her personally?"

Apone smiled a wise, man-to-man smile. "Oh yeah. . . she was the hottest smartgunner I've ever had the pleasure to run a squad with, back about ten years ago. A Marine's Marine, to the absolute fucking core. Good to see she's shaking things up in the 'Fleet."

Hicks definitely felt like he'd been shaken up by her. . .

After, he'd bid farewell to Apone (without telling him that Vas was practically in the next room) Hicks cast a sarcastic look at the lock on the door which bore the faded placard that read 'Room 214'. Removing a small sonic inverter from his leather jacket, Hicks took a brief look around. Plenty of groaning and moaning sifted from under the doors of nearby rooms, but the coast was clear. He had the lock sprung in three seconds. --Getting slow, old man--

Hicks listened carefully at the rather flimsy portal. He eased the now unlocked door open just a crack. He smelled soap fighting for supremacy with Vargr. The air beyond was warm, humid. Hicks's field senses kicked in smoothly. He also heard, above the now clearly distinguishable sound of the conventional liquid shower, a slight 'tink' noise. Hicks stopped momentarily. --Oh, she's a smart little bitch, all right-- he thought. Hicks ever so gently eased the door open another few inches, mindful of the increased 'tinking' that the movement produced, until at last he was able to get his hand in the door. Feeling around the edge of the door, his hand encountered exactly what he had been expecting: a chair, pushed right up against the door.

Hicks could only reach one of the chair's legs, and so, taking a deep breath, he firmly grasped that leg and lifted the chair an inch off the ground. Only the silence of his held breath betrayed the effort required to lift and smoothly move the chair by one extreme corner, while keeping it exactly level. The chair slowly pivoted into view on a graceful arc. Balanced on the chair's far edge was a pair of marine-issue combat boots and a stack of three heavy glass hotel tumblers. Nasty. Hicks relaxed only when the chair had cleared the swing path of the door and rested on solid ground. He slowly let out his breath, and took a short moment to let it equalize. Then, he carefully swung the door open, mindful of squeaks. There were none.

Immediately, Hicks moved the tumblers and boots to a less vulnerable location: namely, the floor. However, as he was moving the boots, Hicks noted an unusual scent: roses! Amazed, he traced the scent to the boots.

Sniffing lightly inside (and feeling a bit kinky), he noted the lingering aroma of good, clean sweat mixed with a subtle, rosy musk. My God, a marine ex-smartgunner drop commando who perfumes her combat boots! Although amazed, Hicks wasn't really surprised. He already knew that she was one of the most amazing people he'd ever met. Violent yet sensual, fierce yet patient, experienced yet innocent. Male yet female, whore yet madonna. . . Hicks smiled wickedly to himself. --Oh, Mr. Hicks, your wake-up call!--

Hicks quietly removed his leather jacket, laying it carefully on the bed. The smell of Vargr was strong there, and there were several damp stains on the sheets. It pissed him off. Then he stalked silently up to the closed door of the bathroom. He didn't realize that his penis was hard as stone.

The door yielded very quietly to his subtle pressure. Through the hot mist, the textured flex-glass of the shower stall revealed a dark shape inside. A white ceramic basin sat on the floor near the shower's door, filled with an inch of whitish-yellowish fluid which positively reeked of Vargr. Thick, white strings of something were distributed throughout the slime. Hicks began to sweat lightly, something he didn't normally do, even in the hottest climes, and his white t-shirt stuck to his chest and arms. He mentally prepared for a short but intense combat scenario. Catlike, he crept to the stall's door. His hand grasped the handle, and he quickly jerked it open hard, his open hand plunging inside. He grasped something thick and wet.

A robe! The shower was empty, except for a tan terry-cloth robe hanging from the shower nozzle. --My god! I didn't check my corners!-- Hicks only emotion was one of deep surprise.

"Freeze, pendejo," a quiet voice hissed from behind him. Out of the extreme corner of his right eye (Hicks had outstanding peripheral vision), Hicks could just see the mirror. She was reflected in it. The angle of reflection was such that he only saw her back reflected in the glass. Her pearl-handled autopistol was held firmly in an outstretched, two-hand grip, its rock-steady muzzle leveled directly at the back of his head. She was totally naked and dripping wet, her short, dark hair matted against her skull. Her small bare feet were planted wide apart on the wet tile floor. The dimpled muscular cheeks of her ass were tense, as were her broad, sinewy shoulders. Her compact, powerfully-built frame seemed sculpted of gleaming bronze. Present was the same thin white scar over the smooth, golden ripple of her right shoulder that he'd seen earlier. A little string of clear, slimy something hung from the intimate area between her legs, a continuing aftermath to her earlier coupling with the potent Vargr marine.

"Hands up, slowly," his commanding officer ordered softly. Her sensual, sexy voice was laced with restrained violence. "Away from your body, fucker, or I'll blow your brains all over the bathroom." Hicks did as she told him. "Now, turn around. . ."

Hicks did this too, moving very slowly. He wanted to see her. . .

A moment later, Hicks was looking right into her big, dark, bottomless eyes, large, twin pools of ink. There was a tiny tattoo of a teardrop under her left eye. --So, you've done some hard time somewhere-- Hicks though to himself, a little more streetwise that Captain Picard, who'd also wondered what the tattoo had meant. Hicks knew. --Probably Lucifer's Rock Military Stockade, on Goddard III-- he surmised. Nobody does time on Cruz, since there are no prisons, so it must have happened during her time with the Corps. And most Marines do their time on the Rock. --Well, despite the crucifix, my dear Miss Vasquez, you're no good Catholic girl-- Hicks, with just the slightest hint of a mischievous smile, gave her nude body a very practiced looking-over. He raised an eyebrow and motioned with his head to her genital area, and the wet products of the Vargr's lust which were slowly dripping from her.

"Have we been busy?"

Juanita Vasquez deliberately cocked the hammer of the big pistol in response to Hicks's innuendo, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Blondie," she told him in a smoky voice thick with anger, "You came to the wrong place for a free show!"

"Oh, I can pay, believe me," Hicks said easily. --Carefully, old man. She's probably got reflexes that would amaze a Romulan.-- Hicks had remembered something that Vas had said in her secret note, about getting lost in the part. That would have to be his ace in the hole.

"I left my coat in the other room. . ." He motioned with his eyes to the adjoining room's door. Vas' eyes flicked in the direction he had indicated, as most people's will when given that subtle prompt. It was difficult for Hicks tell, given that Vas had no corneas, but Hicks saw the subtle movement of her head that accompanied the glance.

--Got you!--

The instant the woman's eyes flicked away from him, Hicks became a blur of motion, lunging for her like a striking cobra. She'd made four mistakes in all in confronting him: 1) she hadn't shot him immediately, 2) she'd take her eyes off him involuntarily, 3) she'd targeted his head, when the torso made a much surer target in such close quarters, and most critically of all, 4) she'd held her gun in an outstretched grip, much too close to her target. More than close enough for Hicks to reach it.

To her credit, the woman got off two shots, but by that time the gun had been forced upwards by the talon-grip of Hicks's hands, now closed over both the weapon and her hands gripping it. The gun exploded twice in rapid succession, ripping dual holes in the ceiling. --Hope nobody's home upstairs-- Hicks thought as he twisted her trigger finger against the pistol's firing guard, dislocating it in one smooth motion. Vas gave a short, quiet gasp of pain and surprise. She was looking deeply into Hicks eyes, as if she were trying to look into his head to guess his next move.

--She was so fucking strong--

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part e)

It took every ounce of Hick' strength to hold his commanding officer's wrists high in his vice-like grip. Using his superior mass, Hicks simultaneously stepped inside her legs with his right foot, hooking his foot behind her left heel. He then tripped her backwards roughly against the sink, trapping her knees with his and incidentally protecting his testicles. With preternatural skill, Vas managed to kick him in the shin (not much strength on it, because her knee was trapped). But the kick partially freed her left knee, which she then used, with awesome speed and ferocity, to 1) knee him in the stomach, 2) jab him hard in the ribs, and 3) lever her left leg free, which she used to jab the hard point of her toe into his leg, narrowly missing his right kneecap. Instead of fighting the pain, Hicks accepted it, like Vas herself had taught him, using it to center himself. Keeping her arms trapped above her head, he slammed her hands violently against the mirror behind her, shattering the glass and bringing from her another small cry of pain. She was nightmarishly strong, and again, to her credit, it took three repetitions of that maneuver to loose the gun from her hands. Finally, the weapon and the remains of the mirror fell to the tile with a clatter.

Keeping her hands pinned, Hicks lifted Vas by her arms onto the sink, and simultaneously forced his body between her legs, spreading them wide to either side of his hips and rendering them largely ineffective. Every single muscle on her wet, slippery body seemed to be rigid. He rammed her back hard against the wall behind the sink, actually breaking the mounting of the now shattered mirror. Remarkably, her jaw set tighter, and she gave a small grunt, but that was it. Hicks again looked her body over, more deliberately this time. Vas' eyes watched his with a hungry, animal intensity. From her toes to pinned arms, he examined in depth every inch of her body. She patiently accepted his examination without comment, but she didn't relax for one moment, and Hicks had to apply steady and considerable force to keep the fierce young Cruzer from escaping his iron grip.

"I think you're worth more than half-price," Hicks told her quietly, now looking her in the eyes. "Considerably more." He looked deep into the inky blackness, focusing his concentration. Neither spoke, and for a long minute the only sounds in the small bathroom were the hissing of the shower and their quiet breathing. --Careful-- Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the woman began to slowly relax. Carefully, Hicks slid one of his hands over both of her small wrists, and pressed them firmly against the wall. She watched him like a snake. With one hand thus free, he reached into the back of his pants and retrieved a pair of security binders.

When the binders slid around Vas' wrists and clicked home, a low, soft moan escaped Vas' lips.

Hicks looked at her smiling. "I win," he said simply. "You gonna be a good girl?"

Vas looked at him like he'd just run his tongue over her soul. "I'm all yours, lover," she told him in a low quiet voice that quivered slightly with arousal. "Enjoy. . ."

With deliberate intent, Hicks slowly bent his face to hers, and kissed her sweet lips, caressing them with his own. Their tongues entwined slowly, sharing a gentle yet passionate embrace. Hicks's hands began to move down the woman's muscular arms, feeling the tension ebb from beneath the sweat-slick skin. With a smooth motion, Hicks slipped his arms around her back, moving one hand up to caress the short, black hair at the nape of her neck. Their tongues slipped back and forth in each other's mouths for several long minutes, until Hicks sensed that the woman was out of breath, gasping lightly. Trembling in his embrace, she looked at him in wonder, her eyes clouded with emotions totally unfamiliar to her.

"You okay?" Hicks asked softly, brushing his lips against her cheek.

"Yeah," Vas said simply, "I'm so fucking perfect you wouldn't believe it. . ." she touched her lips to his again with a slight, softly moaned "Ohh. . ." They kissed sensually for another long minute. When Hicks broke this second kiss, his commanding officer was breathing hard, and her eyes were closed. When she opened them, Hicks saw in her eyes the open invitation to fuck her senseless. "Did you bring the razor?" she breathed.

Hicks reached into his back pocket, still holding Vas wrists pinned over her head. He showed the literally razor sharp tool to Vas, holding it close in front of her face. The shiny metal blade seemed to devastate Vas, her breath momentarily catching in her throat, her brows furrowing with sexual tension. "Awesome. . ." she breathed, before carefully extending her long, pink tongue to lick the blade slowly, almost thoughtfully. Her eyes never left his. --A man could lose himself in there-- came the unbidden thought to Hicks.

"Be prepared, that's my motto," he grinned.

Hicks carefully put the razor between Vas' teeth, and then lifted her off of the sink and put her over his shoulder, carrying her rather like a spoil of war. He took her back into the bedroom, and laid her down on the bed. He then used the binders to bind her wrists over her head to the duralloy headboard of the bid. He paused, surveying his handiwork. He took back the razor, and replaced it with his mouth, kissing his commander again, deeply, licking at the inside of her mouth, savoring the slight spice of her saliva. When he broke it, Vas licked her lips, savoring his taste. He began to slowly run his hands over her incredible body while she silently watched, feeling her muscular arms and shoulders. His hands slid to her armpits, and gently stroked the moist, matted hair there. Vas moaned softly. The smell rising from her body was incredible, equal parts Vargr, sweat, and soap.

Abruptly deciding that it was time to take care of business, Hicks stood up and stripped for his commander, showing her his own muscular, pale, well-sculpted body.

No words were spoken as Hicks began to prepare Vas for her upcoming shaving. Hicks saw that Vas' incredible penis had begun to slip forth; she was obviously incredibly turned on. About four inches of the bright red shaft had slid out of its tight, moist sheath, and was sliding back and forth in the most amazingly kinky way.

Satisfied with the position and readiness of both himself and his commanding officer, Hicks moved slowly over to the side of the bed, letting Vas have a good look at his body, his penis. He took himself in his hand and stroked slowly, milking a large drop of clear, preliminary semen from the tip. Vas looked at it hungrily, a look which Hicks noticed. He carefully wiped it onto his fingertip, where it glistened like a lusty dewdrop. Without speaking, he reached down and slowly rubbed the slippery fluid over Vas' lower lip. The look she gave him was intense enough to cleave dilithium.

"God, where to start?" Hicks breathed, surveying his commander's hairy body. A slow, relaxed smile crept across her features, as Vas accepted the situation. Moving smoothly, now sure of himself, Hicks slid onto the bed and straddled Vas' torso. He moved his thick, penis to within inches of her face, and let her smell his masculinity, letting her get accustomed to it. Her eyes were transfixed by its heavy, beautifully sculpted length for long moments, before they flicked up to meet his. She waited patiently for his next move.

She didn't have to wait long. Slipping a hand around the back of her head, Hicks gently brought it forward towards his penis. Carefully, he began to feed her his cock, letting her take it slowly, but giving her every inch. Vas readily took the whole length down her throat, smoothly swallowing, and grunting softly one or twice (Cruzers have no gag reflex).

Her tongue was alive everywhere on his cock, and never stopped caressing the sensitive underside of the smooth, firm shaft. Hicks marveled at the way the muscles of her jaw and throat worked, like a fine, precision machine that was simultaneously a work of art. Every muscle, every surface inside her mouth unified to bring him to orgasm. Hicks had never experienced such a blowjob, devastating in its perfection. She sucked, nibbled, bit, sucked some more, slipped her mouth up and down, up and down, bit again, sucked some more. Her rhythm was unpredictable, and conspired quickly to quicken his breath and bring up a lovely, anxious itch out of his belly and into his cock.

She was watching him now, seeing the approach of his orgasm reflected in his eyes, hearing it in his breath, smelling it in her nostrils, so thick that for her it overpowered the Vargr's lingering scent still clinging to her body. She went after his orgasm like both their lives depended on it, chasing it, running it down, attacking it with a smooth, restrained frenzy that was gentle and insane at the same time. Hicks found himself slowly thrusting in and out of her mouth, but not because he needed it for his own enjoyment; rather, it seemed to inspire Vas to renew her efforts. She looked like she hadn't had a drink in a month, and was drinking at an oasis. Her breath whistled through her flaring nostrils, sweat ran down the side of her face. Under his ass, Hicks could feel the moist heat of her body. He reached down and began to stroke her damp hair.

"That's it baby, so good. . . so good," he urged gently, his voice horse, showing the strain. He was sweating now too, getting so close to climax. "God dammit, you know just how to suck. . ." What amazed Hicks the most was that Vas at no time had to suck quickly; her technique was all in the precise areas her tongue would touch and swab, the timing of her gentle biting combined with the suction of her lips and throat, the way she controlled penetration, and the potent muscularity of her throat. Maybe since she also had a penis, she knew how to pleasure one all the more intimately.

And then, he was there. He slid reluctantly out of her mouth, angled his body to the side, nestled his cock into the sweaty hair of her left armpit, and came all over it, incidentally raking her shoulder and left breast with his semen. Vas watched intently, with a fierce look of concentration, and Hicks watched her nostrils flare wide as she breathed in his orgasm. She let out a very low, animal growl.

The razor was in Hicks hand in a heartbeat. "Hold still, now," he gently told her, still slightly out of breath, to which she nodded a short affirmation. He massaged the warm semen into the bristly hair, until the whole of her underarm was slippery and the hair clung wetly to her skin.

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . .

Hicks bent to his task with combat intensity. Vas' pubic hair was very tough and thick, and Hicks had to proceed slowly. Also, the razor was indeed very sharp, necessitating great care. It was precision work of the most intimate kind. After every scrape, Hicks wiped the blade clean on the pillow right next to Vas' head, letting her see her own underarm hair coming off one stroke at a time. Vas was clearly getting off on the intensity of the scene; her lips were pulled back, revealing her sharp, white teeth, she was breathing deeply, and under half-lidded lids, her eyes watched in naked, lusty hypnotism every detail of her shaving by her subordinate. Then Hicks began to lick her clean after every stroke of the razor, tasting his own semen commingled with her sweat. This drove Vas absolutely crazy, Hicks noted with satisfaction, and he heard her utter "ohhh, god!" in the barest whisper. Her breath was coming in small, urgent gasps.

Scrape. . . Scrape. . . Scrape. . .

Hicks felt something wet and warm spatter his ass. Turning around to look, he was momentarily shocked by the sight of her fully emerged and erect penis standing stiff and upright from the upper split of her vagina.

It was dribbling clear fluid down the shaft and onto her belly, but would occasionally issue a longer, more potent squirt which, for the most part landed on her own chest, but also was now raking Hicks' back and ass. Hicks examined with awe the sheer animal attractiveness of the huge, fiery red organ, the weird beauty of its thick foreshaft and reverse-taper, the delicate grace of the fleshy, pointed tip, the oddly masculine symmetry of the beveled, bilaterally sculpted glans. Totally alien, absolutely gorgeous, fucking kinky as hell.

Hicks turned back to Vas, who was looking at him intensely. She knew what he'd been looking at, and awaited his reaction. But instead of speaking, Hicks leaned down slowly and kissed his commanding officer with sweet, hot passion, covering her mouth with his, sensually probing every corner of her mouth. When he broke it, she gave him a look that indicated she trusted him with her life.

"You have the most beautiful cock I've ever seen, sir," Hicks told her, deliberately addressing her as his commanding officer. "After I finish shaving under your arms, I'm going to suck your cock until you come all over yourself." Hicks leaned closer to her, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. "Then I'm going to shave you bare. . ."

Hicks had other plans to attend to first, however. He finished shaving her left armpit and licked it clean intimately, and then licked it some more because he liked the noises she made while he did it, sort of a sexy groan that kept repeating itself. He then observed his handiwork, proud not to have cut her even once. Where he'd shaved off her pubic hair, the skin was darker than it was elsewhere, as the pubic hair follicles were quite large and dense, moreso than for a human. A Cruzer's pubic hair was more or less half-way between hair and fur, and Vas was no exception. The shaved skin was quite smooth, however, and Hicks enjoyed himself for a moment by slowly rubbing his fingertip back and forth over the wet, smooth, tender flesh. His commanding officer moaned deeply, and Hicks felt the warm, wet squirting of her semen hit him between the shoulder blades. --Shit, she was potent!-- Hicks turned to look at her penis, just in time to see another squirt shoot three feet in the air, wetting the sheet next to her. Hicks saw several other wet stains on the sheets surrounding her.

Unable to stand it any longer, Hicks again straddled her chest, feeling the swell of her full tits under him. He felt the sticky sap from her nipples smear the backs of his thighs. This time he tangled her fingers in the short thicket of sweat-moist hair at the back of her head, and brought her head forward just a little roughly. She seemed to like that, issuing a soft groan of arousal, which turned rather wet-sounding when he began to feed her cock. Again, he was a little more forceful this time, sliding into her throat at his pace, not hers. Vas adjusted like a professional whore, relaxing her throat during penetration, tensing it upon withdrawal, allowing her teeth to lightly scrape the underside of Hicks slippery cock. She took all eleven inches, over and over.

"Come on, baby, that it," Hicks urged softly, gently. He lifted his ass from her chest, feeling her sticky nipples pull away with reluctance from the back of his thighs, so as to be able to thrust more deeply into her mouth. "Get us some more come to work with." Vas began to make small noises of arousal, tiny grunts and moans testifying to how much the scene was blowing her away. Soon, Hicks joined her, feeling the approaching orgasm beginning to leak into his cock. This would be his third inside an hour, and was approaching like the shockwave of a supernova.

All at once, he was there again, and Hicks wasn't quite fast enough this time, and so treated Vas' mouth to a long, potent gout of semen before he could pull free. He sprayed semen all over her right cheek before his aim sharpened, finally wetting her right armpit. This time, Hicks used his tongue to lick the salty ejaculate into the dark, musky hair. His commander was sweating like a bushboar from his native Malibu, but strangely, for all her worry, she seemed to be responding very well to the fuck scene she had so carefully engineered. She appeared very relaxed, obviously enjoying herself sexually, clearly aroused by her lieutenant's powerful masculinity, and totally content to let him shave her bare. She patiently observed the shaving of her right underarm, watching with wide, black eyes as the pubic hair was scraped gently away and the resulting bare skin licked clean. Hicks was very attentive with her, and paused occasionally to kiss her broad shoulder or gently tongue the veiny swell of her bicep, licking away the beaded perspiration.

Finally, Hicks leaned back up and kissed Vas sensually and deeply, sharing his respect and admiration for her. It was astoundingly erotic to kiss Vas, his commanding officer. He broke it exceedingly gently, his tongue softly licking along her lips before parting. Hicks was suddenly struck by just how vulnerable the Cruzer had made herself with him. She'd laid it all on the line, and all because she'd wanted to show him how grateful she was to him, for his help and support. She'd given her body totally to him, in such a way as to be mutually arousing. He knew he'd give his life for her without question.

"If it's all right with you, sir," Hicks asked Vas, looking deep into her huge, dark eyes, "I'd really like to suck your cock until you come, and then shave your pussy with your own semen." He waited for an answer, relishing his orders.

Vas looked at him with slightly glazed (but thankfully totally black) eyes, as if summing up the depth of his commitment to her. "Well, they ain't paying you by the hour. . ." she said, satisfied, in a soft but firm voice that held the promise of absolute cooperation. Hicks needed no further prompting, and immediately settled comfortably between her muscular legs. He began to gently lick the pubic hair surrounding her vagina and penis, his nostrils filled with the heavy, spicy scent of her dribbling cock. Her ridged belly was already stained with her semen, and as Hicks licked his way through the musky pubic hair to the base of her penis, he began to taste the fluid.

"Outstanding. . ." he breathed softly as he licked her clean, much as a cat would lick clean a newborn kitten: thoroughly and patiently. Her flavor was strong, stronger than that of a human male, and a bit animal, ferally tangy but cut with a very complex biological sweetness that Hicks couldn't begin to identify. He found it strangely compelling, and wanted more. His eyes flicked up to those of his commanding officer, to find her watching his every move. He saw her ever so slightly arch her eyebrows, silently indicating the obvious question: "When are you going to put your mouth on me?"

Vas watched with outward calm as her second officer's tongue slipped out and gently licked the base of her penis, circling the sheath, licking away the semen from the tight folds, before opening his mouth and planting his lips on the shaft. Inside, however, she was going slightly insane with sexual tension. She knew that her orgasm was going to be torrential. Her calm deteriorated significantly as Hicks hot mouth slid up to the apex of her massive erection, while his hand encircled her penis at its constricted midshaft taper, right behind the greater thickness of the foreshaft. He watched her face as he licked away the slippery trails of semen from each urethra in turn, and then ran his tongue all over the wedge-shaped glans. It was just then that Vas sprayed Hicks' tongue and lips with a particularly forceful spurt of clear, slippery preliminary ejaculate from the upper cleft, followed a moment later by an ever bigger squirt from the lower cleft. Hicks abruptly lost all of his composure and devoured her beautiful penis all the way down to his own hand. He began to suck her intimately, strongly, lovingly.

Vas slipped into a private little world of lust as she watched Hicks blow her expertly. The man had obviously had substantial practice. He used his lips and tongue to best effect, but he had the most devious way of sucking strongly but smoothly. If Vas fellatio technique revolved around finesse, skillful variation of pressure and tempo, and gentle biting, Hicks' skill lay in more of a "siege and conquer" style involving direct, firm, strong stimulation of the penis with emphasis on suction and thrusting. Whereas Vas tended to slid her mouth up and down a penis more slowly, she worked more intimately on each stroke; Hicks tended to let the thrust provide some of the pleasure, in conjunction with the slippery friction of his mouth and throat. Perhaps Vas' approach was more feminine, while Hicks' was decidedly masculine. Either way, the result was inevitably a messy, wonderful orgasm.

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part f)

Vas saw that Hicks had long ago gotten over any gag reflex, and was now seeking to make contact with the base of her cock with his lips. Her thick foreshaft was somewhere deep in his throat, getting worked over by the muscles there, while his lips sought more of her throbbing penis. The man was really beginning to take her towards her climax; she felt herself begin to squirt more rapidly deep in his throat.

"Soon. . . gonna pop real soon," Vas breathed, her voice horse and full of arousal. The Cruzer was clearly starting to lose it. Not only could Hicks see it, in her eyes, in the flush beginning to spread on her muscular chest, the way she licked her lips, the beads of sweat dotting her forehead, he could also hear it, in her deep, rapid breathing, in the feverish quality of her voice. Most intimately, he could feel her arousal in the gradual swelling of her already thick, swollen penis; it trembled like a separate creature, and Hicks could feel the hot spurts of her semen coming faster and faster against the back of his throat. The raw, animal scent of her orgasm was thick in his nostrils, filling his sinuses, his world, his universe. It was now the only thing he could smell, overpowering all other scents, even that of the Vargr: the musky, earthy, spicy-sweet smell of Cruzer semen. Vas' semen. His commanding officer's semen. He wanted it.

Only then did Hicks begin to gently bite her penis, which immediately brought forth the most amazingly male-sounding grunt from Vas. Her breathing abruptly became irregular, and Hicks was delighted to see her hands grasp the duralloy bar through which the binders were threaded and pull hard. The metal creaked, and Hicks saw it flex.

"You keep that up, I'm gonna fucking drown you. . ." Vas hissed. It was just about the first complete sentence she'd said since he'd begun shaving her, and was indeed giving every indication of a Cruzer preparing to climax strongly and copiously. Every inch of her glistened with the sweat of her exertions, lending a deep, golden glow to her caramel skin. Each of Vas' full breasts was smeared with the sap secreted from her nipples, and the black aureoles were dotted with goosebumps. The wet teats stood proud and stiff, and Hicks could actually see the tiny dewy drops of honey-like lactation emerge from the red flesh. Hicks was pleased to be able to see the gleaming lather of sweat in both her bare, smooth armpits.

He sucked and nibbled her huge cock, dragging the orgasm out of it, and suddenly realized that she was fighting him, trying to hold back her onrushing climax.

Hicks wouldn't stand for it. He slid his mouth up on the massively engorged shaft, until his lips collared the thickest part of the huge foreshaft. He then pulled his lips back and made Vas watch as he bit her firmly and repeatedly all over the foreshaft, from just forward of the widening midshaft taper to the beveled glans.

"Ohhh god, Darryl, for you, all for you," Vas gasped to Hicks in a strained whisper, his bites sending shocks of unbelievable pleasure deep into her belly, where a fire seemed to be raging. Her muscular abs now stood out with etched definition, forming the traditional, and startlingly visible pattern under the coffee skin of her belly and stomach. Hicks thought perversely that Vas seemed to be totally at ease with their respective roles, despite her earlier concerns; she was supervising his sucking, encouraging him to break her control over her own bodily responses, and yet still maintaining her command presence over him the whole time. God, it was really kinky! Hicks was glad she'd sorted it out.

Vas closed her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath. The sweat dripped off of her, like a thoroughbred horse just come in from a long ride. She let out a really long, low moan. "Shit. . . almost lost it," she announced in a quavering voice thick with sexual exhaustion; he was wearing her down. His tongue was now flicking rapidly back and forth over the fleshy tip of the beveled glans. He'd known that she'd very nearly come, for she'd issued five or six rather liberal spurts of semen from the lower cleft of her penis, a mini-orgasm for her, a full-fledged ejaculation for a human male. The warm fluid had tasted subtly different from her pre-ejaculate, more earthy, more complex, and stronger, less sweet but more cinnamon. Her orgasm was an incredibly complex event, with many levels and subtexts, and Hicks was thoroughly entertained by it. The final act was only moments away, however, and both officers realized it.

Vas knew she was losing her battle with Hicks' demonic mouth. The last straw for her was when Hicks had slid to his stomach between her muscular legs and tenderly slipped his arms under her thighs, which angled her hips upward, and of course presented her massively erect penis perfectly for Hicks to continue his lusty oral attack. But, to Vas deep arousal, he wrapped both his arms around her thighs and rested his hands on her belly.

Then he began to lightly scratch her abdomen and stomach, and rub up and down the the bristly pubic trail connecting her cock and her belly button.

Vas found it exquisitely erotic. She started to growl in a low fierce voice, and Hicks knew he'd won.

Vas had known for several minutes that when she did finally come, she was going to have a "staggered" dual orgasm. Only Cruzers with dual triprostates, and thus separate urethras and separately "wired" sexual responses, could have this type of orgasm, which involved achievement of orgasm in one triprostate, and then separate achievement of another orgasm in the remaining triprostate in the midst of the initial orgasm cycle. Ever since Dr. Crusher had cleared her left triprostate of its scar tissue and helped it to begin healing fully, Vas' sexual response had returned to the way it had been when she was younger, before her rape by the Klingons.

Vas very commonly achieved this type of orgasm; her left triprostate (threaded to her lower urethra) had always been more sensitive, and usually beat the right triprostate to orgasm by anywhere from ten seconds to a full minute or two. Which Vas didn't mind at all. The sensation of achieving the additional orgasm in the middle of an orgasm in progress was one of the most potently, sensually erotic sensations that was possible for a Cruzer to experience. In her youth, Vas could, when properly and carefully stimulated, alternate orgasms in her upper and lower urethras, thus keeping up an interconnected series of orgasms that switched back and forth. Once, during the Games, she'd managed to climax nine time in a row, five from the lower and four from the upper, during a twenty-two minute time span.

Now, Vas felt the burning heat begin to seep from deep in her belly into her penis, bathing it with itchy fire. Unbeknownst to her, she'd begun to growl even louder, and shockingly animal noise. She wanted to warn Hicks, but the words wouldn't come; she only managed to groan intensely. But Hicks knew. Vas had begun to spurt feverishly in his mouth, the warm, wet juices shooting in small but fierce little squirts from the lower urethra, and the upper urethra dribbling more or less continuously. Amazed, Hicks slipped his mouth up and down the length of her shaft, occasionally pulling his lips back to let the warm, thin semen run down the bright red shaft, only to slide his mouth down the Cruzer's enormous organ once again and collect them once again before they could disappear into the woman's thick pubic hair.

Suddenly, Hicks heard his command utter an interesting sort of low, guttural moan, barely human sounding. Her thick, reflexively spurting penis seemed to grow larger still in his sucking mouth. Sensing that she was about to climax, Hicks drew his mouth up to the midpoint of her awesome shaft, his lips just behind the flare of the foreshaft, and as he sucked tenderly, she abruptly creamed down his throat. Hicks felt the semen rushing under his tongue, padding as it did the underside of her organ. Although he couldn't exactly tell, it seemed to him that only the lower cleft was issuing semen. He didn't care; Vas' orgasm was hot, wet, and beautiful. Her orgasm began with an uninterrupted stream of semen lasting eleven seconds, at which point she settled down into her normal, pulsing delivery.

As his commanding officer continued to orgasm violently in his mouth, Hicks, between swallows, watched her as she came. She looked radiant, her face a sensual mask of pleasure so intense that it was almost a form of torture for her. He eyes were tightly closed, her nostrils flared with each deep, ragged breath she took, her lips were pulled back to reveal small, perfect white teeth (except for the exaggerated canines) clenched tightly together, with her breath hissing through them. Occasionally, she would give a small cry as a particularly powerful orgasmic contraction tightened in her belly.

Hicks really didn't have much of an idea how long this went on; truthfully, he was almost as blown away as Vas by what was occurring. The scent of her climax was thick in his nostrils. Experimentally, he pulled his lips back from the wet, slippery erection between then (what little he could, for even the midshaft was now very thick, and the foreshaft absolutely filled his mouth and throat). Immediately, her semen, commingled with Hicks' saliva, began to slip down the shaft in large, wet drips, moistening her belly and drenching her vagina. Hicks found the sight unbelievably sexy, in a very intimate way. He was surprised at how clear the fluid was, and how thin; her semen was, however, very, very slippery.

His eyes flicked back up his commander's face, and found himself staring deep into her black-within-black eyes. He found himself performing for her, letting her huge shaft slide even deeper into his mouth, letting his throat relax for the potent thickness of her foreshaft. This beautiful woman, this Cruzer, was giving him all she had to give, and he wanted her to enjoy herself to the fullest possible extent. In an odd way, Hicks had ceased to consider the whole scene as her reward to him; instead, he now sought to help Vas achieve the deepest orgasm she was capable of, to reward her for the intense intimacy she'd shown him.

Hicks, while he sucked, began to explore Vas' dripping vagina with patient, curious fingers, spreading her own ejaculate up into her own cunt. He was surprised again to find her vaginal channel trembling, almost vibrating, and it constricted with surprising strength on his fingers. Hicks knew that he would be exploring that particular feature very soon. With practiced ease, he slipped his fingers from her vagina and, reaching up, rubbed then all over Vas' lips, gently encouraging her to taste herself. She allowed her lips to part, and began to lick them clean. Wow! She was so responsive. Hicks was profoundly struck by the marked contrast between Vas' normally ultracool, impenetrable demeanor and her current, sensual vulnerability. This was why she had to be so careful in giving herself to him. With her penis deep in his mouth, inextricably enmeshed in her orgasm, the essence of the woman was laid bare for Hicks: everything Juanita Vasquez did, be it fighting or fucking, she did with total commitment and utter dedication.

Hicks rubbed his fingers slowly back and forth over the ridges of her abs, feeling the well-defined, beautifully symmetrical "washboard" texturing her stomach and lower belly. Vas had only been climaxing for about two minutes, it seemed more like ten to Hicks. While he continued to pet her stomach with one hand, Hicks gently encircled the base of her penis with the other and, with exceeding care, he began to masturbate her as she came. Vas grunted deeply, and her head tossed from side to side in her passion. She gave a short but lusty scream. Then, amazingly, Hicks felt renewed, rapid spurts of semen rush through her huge penis, this time under his upper lip and the roof of his mouth. She was experiencing another orgasm, this time from the other, upper cleft. --This woman is fucking fantastic-- Hicks marveled, swallowing anew. His own belly had begun to acquire a full, heavy feeling. . .

It was only at this juncture that Hicks remembered that he still had a lot of shaving to do, and the reason that he'd blown her in the first place was to get her pubic hair lubricated for the event. With that, he began to slide his wide-stretched mouth up her torrid penis. He was thrilled to find that the shaft had engorged so fully that it was only with some difficulty that he was able to allow the thickest portion of the flared, swollen foreshaft to pass between his lips. His teeth scraped along the thin, hot membrane of its tangy surface, but Vas seemed not to mind; in fact, she sounded like she'd enjoyed the gentle torture thus provided. As the spurting glans slid from his throat and into his mouth, he became intimately reacquainted with the taste of her orgasm, its blend of heavy animal tang, hint of citrus and cinnamon, and sweet, bleachy starch. The scent had now completely overwhelmed that of her previous Vargr companion.

Her penis sprayed the left side of Hicks' face as its beautifully sculpted glans slipped from between the security officer's lips. The lower cleft dribbled semen, spurting weakly every few seconds, but the upper cleft was dilated wide and shooting forceful squirts of clear fluid every other second. The jets struck Hicks' chin, neck, and shoulder with surprising force. He held the jetting shaft straight up from Vas belly, so they could both watch her climax. The virile spurts arced three feet over Vas outstretched body, splattering her belly, chest and face. Mercifully, Hicks slid his hand up the long shaft to gently cup the beveled glans, and allowed Vas to orgasm into his palm. In this way, he spread the clear, musky syrup all over his commanding officer's sweating stomach, abdomen, thighs, and especially her pubic area, liberally smearing the pubic hair covering her vulva, inner thighs, and lower belly. He gently spread the fluid into the split of her ass as well, caressing her intimately. Vas rewarded him with an especially sensual moan as he carefully circled her anus with a slippery finger. He flicked his eyes again up to hers, saw her eyebrow arched with an unasked question. Gently, he slipped the finger smoothly into her anus, and was startled to see her buck in her restraints. Corded sinews stood out on the inside of her thighs, and her biceps were swollen in tension.

Inside her rectum, Vas' dual triprostates were impossible to miss. Hicks knew that Cruzers had reproductive glands like those of a man, but he hadn't expected them to be quite so large or sensitive. Generally, he had to do a bit of searching to find just the right "sweet" spot in a human male's prostate to elicit his maximum sexual pleasure. Vas' glands, however, protruded into the rectal wall and throbbed with a weird life all their own. He began to tease them with his finger, and quite literally drove Vas insane for several long moments, during which time he was able to elicit alternating spurts of come from each of her urethras, depending on which gland he probed.. He finally stopped when he began to realize that his commander was quite unable to breath under the intimate probing of her prostate array. She gasped for breath after he withdraw his finger, shuddering violently, still squirting away.

He immediately noticed two things which shocked him. First, of course, was the fact that her knot had slithered from its moist, warm sheath, to rest throbbing against her belly. Second, a trickle of blood now issued from her lower urethra, along with the feeble drool of semen. He almost didn't notice it at first, given the shocking color of her penis, but there was no question.

Vas regarded him with half-lidded eyes, clearly devastated by her orgasms, now winding down. She was awash in her own semen. "Old injury," she told him softly, her command-tone firmly in evidence. Once again, she was his total superior. "Don't worry about it; Bev says it'll take a couple of months to heal completely."

"Got it," Hicks said simply, openly petting her slippery, caramel body. He reached for the razor.

The sharp blade reflected in the wide, dark orbs of Vas' eyes. Hicks took a moment to center his breathing, steadying his hands, before he went to work. The blade collected both semen and hair as it slipped over the furry lips of Vas vagina, leaving behind smooth, bare skin that was nearly dead black in color, such was the density of pubic follicles on her vaginal lips, turning gradually to peppery caramel at the insides of her thighs. Once again, Hicks treated Vas to a very intimate tongue bath of her pubic area in the wake of the razor, thoroughly cleaning the semen-sticky skin and enjoying its smooth texture. Hicks had to shave very carefully around the base of her enormous penis, using very short, small strokes of the sharp blade; luckily, that was the area most wet with semen, and the razor slid easily across her warm, musky skin. Her belly was perhaps easiest for Hicks to shave, but he teased her a little here, using small strokes of the razor, and re-anointing the area several times with semen still dripping from her penis. Vas loved the feel of the razor scraping over the pubic trail on her abdomen, seeing the shadow left by the follicles.

Finally, Hicks attacked the pubic hair growing in the split of her asscheeks. For this task, Hicks straddled Vas' chest, kneeling over it and facing away from her. He then pulled her legs up and hooked his arms over the backs of her thighs. He ass was thus beautifully presented to him, fully spread and ready to get shaved. The hair grew on a tender strip of pale brown skin right in the center of the split, forming a furry trial all the way from the bottom of her vagina to the small of her back. A great deal of her semen had dripping into the split, leaving her musky and slimy in this area. Again, Hicks patiently began to slip the razor over the hairy skin, this time thoroughly shaving the split of her ass. As he worked, he moved his hips back a bit, allowing Vas to nuzzle and lick his testicles. This she did with gentle, thorough attentiveness. She then slipped her tongue into the split of his ass and began to tongue his tight anus. She made soft noises of contentment. It was just one more thing for Hicks to deal with, especially since Vas had begun rimming his asshole at just the moment that he'd begun shaving around her own asshole. Sweat dripped from Hicks brow as he scraped the black, kinky hair away from her anus. He felt her tongue penetrate his anus and snake up into his rectum. --God, her tongue was long!-- Hicks thought to himself. It felt like a wet, wriggling worm was trying to nest up there.

"Jesus!" he breathed, as Vas slipped her tongue in and out of his asshole.

He was now working the blade up the small of her back. Then, she was bare. With a triumphant little "YES!" Hicks threw the razor into the corner and bent his head down to lick out the split of his commander's ass, removing all traces of semen and sweat, and tonguing Vas' asshole even as she tongue-fucked his. They communed with each other's anuses for long minutes, savoring the taste of each other's most intimate areas. Hick's was just about ready to fuck the shit out his commander.

Suddenly, he felt the wild, skillful tongue withdraw from his anus, and he heard Vas' voice from somewhere between his legs. "Darryl, my combadge is in the left thigh pocket of my camo pants," she told him in a steely-cool voice that indicated without a doubt the Major Juanita Vasquez, Security Chief aboard the USS Enterprise, had just decided to re-enter the body of the Cruzer sex-goddess he'd been sucking and shaving for the last hour or so. Or had she ever left? "Go get it, and hold it up for me," she ordered. "I have to make a call."

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part g)

Hicks veritably jumped to get the combadge. Although his superior's command tone had reasserted itself with sudden vengeance, Hicks could also tell that something had changed between them. She addressed him more intimately, even in her commands, less like a traditional commander, and more like a pack leader. He was just beginning to realize that there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. He came back with her combadge, and held it up close to her face for her.

"Vasquez to Enterprise. . ."

"Picard here," the Captain's voice came back almost immediately.

"I'm reporting in as ordered, sir," Vas began without preamble. Hicks began to get a very weird feeling. "Lieutenant Hicks has successfully completed my orders."

There was a pause. Finally, Captain Picard spoke. "Was his performance. . . satisfactory?"

"Affirmative, sir. He was outstanding." Hicks could see that although Vas' voice was steady, she was now trembling all over.

"Then I would say he's earned a reward, wouldn't you?" Picard's voice was rock-steady.

"Yes, sir," Vas replied, her voice now getting a bit breathy.

"Very well, Major. I hereby order you to reward Lieutenant Hicks to the best of your abilities. Counselor Troi has extended your shore leave for another 24 hours. It that understood?"

Vas looked like she'd just had a little orgasm. "Yes, sir. I understand completely."

"Good. Enterprise out."

Vas looked at the silent communicator for a long moment, shivering. She looked at Hicks. "I think I've just been ordered to give you the best fuck of your life."

"Yes, ma'am," Hicks agreed evenly. "That's what it sounded like to me too." He was smiling faintly.

Vas narrowed her eyes at her second officer, but she found herself smiling as well. "Do you have any idea what he's just done?" she asked softly.

"Nope. . ."

Vas smiled an evil smile at Hicks. "He took command of the situation, which means, I'm off the hook."

"Off the hook, ma'am?" Hicks was honestly mystified.

"Yeah," Vas repeated. "Off the hook. My whole worry about yielding too much control to you when I allow you to fuck me just fucking evaporated.

Whatever I do now, I'm under his orders, which is exactly the way it should be." Vas was now looking Hicks up and down with a decidedly hungry look, admiring his naked body with frank desire. "He just gave me the chance to really show you exactly how grateful I am to you." She smiled sensually. "Are you ready for some new orders?" she asked Hicks, her voice thick with lust.

"I'm totally at your disposal, ma'am," Hicks volunteered.

Vas looked him right in the eye. "Untie me. . ."

Half an hour later, Hicks was enjoying himself more than he ever had in his life.

Above all, Vas was a professional. Whether that meant killing efficiently and without remorse or bringing a man to the brink of a really hard orgasm and exploring that brink with him for hours didn't really matter. Vas was a Cruzer, and Cruzers lived for duty and honor. She was now a tool of her commanding officer, Captain Jean-Luc Picard, and she'd been turned loose on Hicks. As always, she marshaled her formidable skills to fulfill her orders to the best of her abilities.

"Easy, baby. Don't tense it," cautioned Vas, gently caressing Hicks' pale, velvet penis. "Just relax. . . " The thick, beautiful spear was slippery from the deep head Vas had been giving him, and it glistened in the low lighting of the dingy bedroom. "Just relax for me and I'll blow your fucking mind." Vas, in addition to being a perfect military machine, also knew how to relax, how to "work" off the stresses of command, how to keep herself and those around her relaxed and ready for anything. Simultaneously, Vas was also very experienced at feeding some of the more peculiar hungers that her superb Cruzer body was prone to.

Vas smiled to herself briefly. It was a hell of a lifestyle.

Currently, she was engaged in what she liked to think of as "preventative maintenance" on her Second Officer, Security, Darryl Hicks. Men got edgy in they didn't get enough pussy, and thanks, to Captain Picard, Vas found herself in the supremely arousing position of being able to supply Hicks with just what he needed. It was feeding time.

"No problem, I ain't going anywhere," Hicks murmured from his comfortably reclined position on the damp, semen-stained bed. "Besides, you'll blow my mind anyway; I believe that was an order."

--Oh, are we a little wound up after all that teasing I gave you on the ship, Mr. Stud?-- Vas thought to herself. She'd definitely let Hicks go too long without the kind of release she would now give him. Vas could sense the tension in his deceptively powerful body. She went to work.

Sucking like there was no tomorrow, Vas began to devour Hicks's cock, while gently caressing his flat, muscular belly. Reaching to her right, she reached into her duffel bag, which she'd retrieved from the dresser after Hicks had released her from the binders. Feeling inside, she closed her hand on what she'd been looking for, something she always carried with her when she went on shore leave cock-hunts. It was a large synthi-plast packet of honey, and it constituted one of Vas' favorite sex toys.

She noted with satisfaction that Hicks was watching the scene intently, through half-lidded eyes. Opening her throat to the hot cock before her, she allowed her full lips to slide down the entire, incredible length of the taut weapon, until her nose brushed his belly. She groaned softly in approval, feeling the tension building in the thick, hard flesh.

Hicks was endowed very much to Vas' liking; thick, masculine, smooth, and big. Slowly, she drew her lips back up the wet, throbbing shaft, collecting both her spit and his preliminary spendings, until she was once again holding the heavy, slippery rod in her small hand. Holding it aloft, she caressed the huge shaft several times from thick base to swollen, blood-dark head. Hicks's big cock glistened in the low, sensual lighting. Finally, Vas held the massive spear steady while she squeezed a slow trail of honey onto its big, dripping head. Vas licked her lips, smiling at Hicks. "How you doing, baby?" she asked, her wide, dark eyes intently watching the golden fluid slowly slide down the wet, male flesh.

Hicks was watching too. "Couldn't be better," he responded in a low, sensual voice. Vas' eyes had the same animal intensity now that they did when she was on duty. He had no doubt that Major Juanita Vasquez operated on one really weird mix of danger, sex, and duty, heightened even more by the orders given to her by Captain Picard. She smiled at his silence, broken only by his deep, regular breaths, but in a moment the animal, the predator, was back in those big, dark Cruzer eyes, and she was hungrily sucking the sweetness from every thick inch of his huge cock.

Vas' hands crawled slowly up Hicks's muscular body, sliding across the warm, naked skin of his belly and chest, while her skillful mouth worked voraciously over erect, sticky-sweet cockmeat. Her nimble fingers found his nipples, erect with desire, and began tugging gently on them, scratching lightly at the raised buds. She was moaning softly now, tasting the seepage of his increased excitement, as her oh-so-talented mouth slid up and down, up and down in a hot, sensual rhythm on the beautiful, magnificent erection of Hicks's cock.

Finally, Vas sensed that any further stimulation would end this scene on a singularly creamy note. Her subordinate was breathing deeply, and his cock throbbed powerfully between her wide-stretched lips. Very carefully, she eased the thick, sweet length of Hicks's cock from the tight, wet caress of her throat and mouth, gasping slightly as the dribbling, engorged glans slid from between her moist, honey-coated lips. Vas slid her hands quickly from the man's chest, moving to hold the heavy, slick organ gently with both of her small hands.

"Now that is one hell of an erection, lover," Vas observed, looking into her Hicks' eyes. It was like an angry snake in her hands, still slightly sticky from the honey.

Hicks willed himself to relax, letting Vas do the work. As she held up his own cock for his inspection, Hicks noted how the dark, caramel skin of her small hands contrasted with the fair skin of his prick. --Good visuals-- he thought to himself. She was a really getting him going. "I really want you to know how much I've enjoyed serving under you, Major," he replied, surprised as the tightness of his voice. "You are an incredible commander, and I'm proud to take your orders."

Vas leaned forward and crawled up Hicks' chest, rubbing her sweaty body on his. Bending her head down, she covered his mouth with hers and kissed him deeply. She flicked her tongue gently inside his mouth while she looked deep into his green eyes. Hicks was blown away by the intensity, the intimacy of the moment. Then, Vas gently moved her head to the side of his, so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I'm gonna feed you some cunt now, baby" Vas told him quietly, intimately.

Her voice was a warm, erotic caress of Cruzer sensuality, and yet entirely professional at the same time. --How'd she do that?-- Hicks wondered to himself. It was pretty clear to him the Vas really got off on the authority aspect of this. He could smell her own arousal now, the sweet tang of ripe, young cunt, almost animal in its appeal. He wondered idly if the woman would rape him if he said no. Well, he'd seen this woman's combat moves too many times not to know the answer to that question. "Can you let yourself relax nice and deep, and try to come really hard and wet for me?

"By all means," he replied.

Vas nodded smartly, smiling, as she straightened, kneeling before him. She lay his throbbing organ on his belly momentarily with almost reverent gentleness. She had an undeniably hot, unbelievably kinky body. Big tits, but really tight, riding high on her chest. He could see the flatter swell of her pecs underneath, she'd obviously done some work there, but they only made her tits stand out that much further. She had huge, extremely dark nipples that protruded more than a little obscenely from each of the twin honey-bronze globes. She had muscular arms, not masculine, but not entirely feminine either. The woman definitely had biceps, but you didn't really notice until she tensed them for you, until you saw the veins under the creamy coffee skin. Her body looked very kinky, shaved bare as it was, with the smooth skin of her vulva and underarms the color of dusky coal.

Then, of course, their was her cock. Bright, glistening red, mottled with fine red and blue veins, flared like an inverted bowling pin at the foreshaft, more slender at the gracefully-tapered midshaft. He knew that Cruzers had knots, like Terran dogs (and Vargr, for that matter), at the bases of their cocks, but Hicks couldn't see Vas' yet. Her penis was semi-erect, a great, bloated worm of slippery, highly developed flesh jutting away from the bare-shaved split of her vagina's apex, to curve in a blood-heavy arc down to where the beveled wedge of her glans just rested, still dripping clear fluid, on Hicks' belly. It was oddly appealing in an animal sort of way. Or, maybe Hicks got off on the masculinity of it.

That stopped him for a moment. It was true that Hicks , one of the toughest security officers in the Fleet, did have an eye for a good-looking male body. He really was, in fact, completely homosexual. But in the last hour or two, Hicks had really come to understand what Vasquez had been trying to tell him, and show him: that sex was an unbelievably intimate, private way to show your deepest respect and admiration for someone. He felt so privileged, to know that Vas thought so highly of him that she would share herself so totally with him, to have enough confidence in him that she would openly use her admittedly weird sexual anatomy to give him as much pleasure as she knew how. He suspected that Vas knew how her body would appeal to him. Hicks had to admit to himself that there was a significant masculine attractiveness to Vasquez' body. It allowed him to reconcile both his hetero- and homoerotic desires.

Vas was now squeezing more honey into her hands. She grasped his swollen cock firmly with sticky, dripping fingers, and began massaging the golden fluid all over the hot cockmeat. She licked her lips, and Hicks noted that her breath was coming a little faster. A big, clear drop of pre-cum appeared at the tip of his now slippery cock, and Vas licked it off immediately, savoring it along with the sweet residue clinging to his shaft. "Sweet," she murmured.

He continued his lazy examination of her body. A flat belly faintly rippled with underlying muscle (he'd seen her do hundreds of sit-ups in a row). The sides of her ass were indented with muscle, and her olive skin rippled as she moved her knees wider apart. Finally, her cunt was shaved absolutely bare of its black pubic fur (very kinky for a Cruzer), the dark pubic lips framing the ripe split of her pussy. Truly, a bod built for sex, Hicks thought to himself.

Vas climbed over Hicks's naked body, until her cunt was spread over his throbbing, honey-slick cock. "Time to rock, mi amigo," Vas observed, and immediately set about feeding the huge, dripping piston into her tight, hot cunt.

Hicks savored the sweet torture, as Vas skillfully slowly eased her cunt down the thick pole of fuckmeat. She paused occasionally to reposition her hips, but always she fed more and more of his cock up her slick, hot cunt. The look of concentration on her face was a mix of animal passion and youthful eagerness. "Shit, Hicks" she gasped. "Did you grow another inch in the last hour?" They both laughed in between their panting exertions. Hicks was now deep inside her, and she worked her hips in a gentle but increasing rhythm.

Vas' bronzed body became moist with a light sheen of sweat. It added yet another slightly animal scent to the heavy aroma of sex in the warm bedroom. She moved her body for Hicks's pleasure, fucking him in earnest now. Varying her strokes and rhythm, she sometimes took just a couple of inches of slippery cock and worked in small, rapid fuck-stabs. Then, she would abruptly change tactics, sliding up and down the whole slick, gleaming length of his huge cock, letting nearly a foot of hard male flesh spread her open and fuck her deep. Hicks could feel Vas' sensitive, dripping cock dragging back and forth on his own penis. She was fantastically tight, like a virgin, and her vagina gripped his thrusting penis, and actually seemed to massage it with a undulating vibration.

"Ohhh, shit," Vas moaned aloud. She leaned forward on Hicks' chest, impaling herself over and over. She kissed him, deeply, and moaned as she felt Hicks's hands circle around her back. Hicks felt her bunched muscles, hard with sexual tension. Vas was dripping all over his cock; she was wildly excited now. When she slid her trembling cunt up on his cock, Hicks could see that he gleamed like a wet snake. She rode him expertly, spearing herself relentlessly with slippery meat, baring her teeth like a primal beast. Hicks cupped her slick, thrusting ass, caressed her broadly muscled back, gently massaged her big tits, letting her know how intense the fuck was.

"You look like you're close, man," Vas observed in a tense voice. There was a warm, sticky spot on Hicks' stomach, where the dripping head of her cock lay.

CRUZING

Chapter 6: Command Perogatives (part h)

"Affirmative," he replied immediately, in a like tone, and seconds later they were both screaming like banshees, sharing lots of intimate secretions between one another as they shared his long, virile orgasm. Vas collapsed atop Hicks's heaving chest, panting like a dog. They could both feel the slippery aftermath of Hicks's orgasm between their warm, sweaty bodies, and Hicks could feel Vas' drenched cunt still tugging at his still deeply impaled cock in small, rapid twitches.

"Sweet Jesu Cristo!" Vas murmured into Hicks's chest, pausing to gently lick his erect nipple. She moved her hips slightly, bringing a sharp moan from her fuck-partner. "When's the last time you fed this thing?" She deliberately tensed her dilated cunt around its still-firm invader to emphasize her point. Hicks moaned again, more softly this time.

"Geordi. . ." he gasped, out of breath. "Last night. . ."

"No shit," Vas responded back. She bit gently on Hicks's erect nipple, eliciting a pained smile. "Good. I can't keep you fed all by myself." Without scarcely a pause, she went on. "You should visit the Chief Engineer more often." She was looking directly into his eyes, absolutely serious. "Or, just maybe, you and I could really show Reg Barclay a hell of a good time." Then she smiled wickedly at him. "You wouldn't believe how much watching two guys fuck can turn a woman on. It is so fucking erotic. . ." She wrapped her muscular arms around Hicks, and necked with him for several minutes, just sharing the intimacy of the moment, feeling his huge penis still beating deep in her vagina in the wet aftermath of his orgasm.

"No shit," Hicks deadpanned, in response to her earlier observation about gay sex. "Is there anything that doesn't turn you on?"

"Nothing that comes to mind," she mused. "And speaking of come, I want to ask you something, and if the answer's no, you just tell me, because I would only want to do this if you wanted it too." With that, Vas reluctantly eased her dripping vagina off of Hicks pale, slippery cock. She straddled his chest, sitting on it with her legs to his either side. Carefully, she grasped her huge, semi-erect penis in her hand, and lifted it up right in front of Hicks face. It oozed clear, thin, musky- smelling semen, which dripped off her penis at the thickest part of the foreshaft.

"I want you to look at my cock, and tell me if you can take me up your ass."

"Well," said Hicks, appraising her huge organ, "You're hung pretty heavily, but you look like you'd give me a smooth ride." His tongue slipped out to make gentle, hesitant contact with the wet red tip, licking slowly. As Vas watched in rapt fascination, Hicks opened his mouth to her beautiful penis and allowed the wedge-shaped glans to slip into his mouth.

He slid his hands around behind her ass and pulled her towards him, so as to be able to access her erection better with his mouth. Just like that, for the next fifteen minutes, Hicks lovingly, thoroughly, strongly fellatiated the Cruzer, giving her the firm, pounding erection she would need to penetrate him anally. As he licked and sucked, he felt her getting harder and harder, squirting more and more thin juice, working her up to the task she had planned, preparing her to fuck.

Finally, Vas could stand no more. "FUCK!" she groaned, "You are good at this!" She pulled out from his mouth, and was shocked by the size of her own penis. The foreshaft was very nearly three inches thick, a phenomenal diameter to ask anyone to take anally, and Vas doubted for a moment whether Hicks could do it, despite the shape and slipperiness of her unnatural endowment. Still, Ro had taken her up the ass when she was nearly this big, and Hicks definitely had more experience at anal intercourse than she did. Vas held up her shaft to Hicks' face, waving the crimson, massively erect organ just in front of his nose. The small but rapid little spurts of semen were wetting the pillow behind his head. "You sure about this?" she asked for the last time. "I don't want to hurt you."

Hicks looked at Vas with dead seriousness. "Just as much as you wanted to give me your body, that's how much I want you to have mine." With that, he rolled to his side, gently reversing positions with Vas until he lay on top of her. He kissed her one last time, letting her taste her semen on his lips, before moving off of her. With deliberate intent, he lay down on his stomach next to Vas, brought his knees up to his chest, and bent forward, putting his shoulders to the moist sheets of the bed. With his ass thus pointed in the air and his face in the bed, Hicks could smell several sexual aromas clinging to the wet material: Vargr, Cruzer, human.

Without another word, He sensed Vas slip behind him. Then, he felt a mouth lick at the back of his left thigh, felt it move smoothly circle around and up in between his asscheeks, to gently lick at his anus. Hands grasped him at either hip, pulling him gently back to meet the wet, inquisitive tongue licking along the split of his ass. A hand softly grasped his down-hanging penis, and began to stroke it lovingly. The tongue left his anus, only to make contact with the shaft of his cock a moment later. The mouth smoothly followed the downhang of the shaft, licking and kissing, always towards the glans, until he felt lips slide over the blunt cap. The mouth took him fully inside its warm, softly sucking confines. He heard a soft moan from behind, and he found himself moaning softly as well.

The mouth slipped up and back on his penis for several minutes, giving him a thrilling blow job, really turning him on. One hand rested on the small on his back, caressing gently, while the other held up his cock for the voracious mouth greedily at work on his cock. Finally, as he began to feel the approach of yet another orgasm, the mouth left him, but not before leaving him rock hard, throbbing, and dripping with saliva. The hand encircled his cock again, slipping up and down the smooth, firm, spit-moist shaft. He felt movement on the bed, a body repositioning, and then the warm, moist contact of his commanding officer's loins against his upraised ass.

"Easy, lover," a soft, mellow voice called from behind him. Fingers were now slipping in and out of his asshole, spreading something slippery around the tight bud and up inside it. She was lubricating him with her own come! Then, he felt something very hot and wet touch the left cheek of his upraised ass. It slid smoothly across the cheek of his ass, leaving a wet smear on the pale skin in its wake, until it came to rest in the split of his ass. Hicks felt a warm fluid spurting along the split of

his ass, and then felt the warm, firm presence of Vas' cock moving along the split, spreading the fluid all around his anus. Soon, the entire split of his ass was quite slimy.

Something nudged at Hicks' anus. Something hot, with a rather slender point. It began dipping into his asshole, just a little at first, but then deeper and more more insistence. A larger, wedge-shaped bevel spread him open much wider, and drew a moan from him. After that, something else began to spread him open with a vengeance, something wet and huge and wonderful, something that vibrated and twitched. Almost before he knew it, Hicks felt Vas' massive foreshaft spread him open and, accompanied by a brief flash of pain, slide deeply into his rectum; although it hadn't felt like it, it was the biggest cock he'd ever taken up his ass. His anus eagerly slid up the midshaft taper of Vas' weirdly shaped penis, finding its 2 1/2 inch diameter somewhat more comfortable that the 3 inch thickness of the awesome foreshaft. His ass felt deliciously, obscenely full, and Hicks found himself loving every second of it.

Then, Vas began to stroke her cock back and forth with absolute precision.

--God, can this woman fuck-- Hicks though with devastated arousal. Her penis was amazingly smooth and slippery, befitting its thin, moist membrane, and slipped in and out with sensual ease. Hicks was left with just an incredible sliding sensation, with the kinkiest amount of friction provided by the sheer tightness of his dilated anus wrapped around Vas' thick organ. Every time she withdrew, her foreshaft would force his anus to spread unbelievably. She liked to withdraw it completely and rub it on Hicks' asscheeks, spurting preliminary ejaculate all over his ass, before forcing it back up his asshole. By the time she had done this fifteen or twenty times, Hicks was moaning openly, and wondering if he was going to come without his cock having been touched. But then, of course, as if sensing his though even as he thought it, a hand slipped under his stomach and between his legs, and began gently masturbating him. At no point did the intense assfuck he was getting ever relent.

However, now Vas began to alter her pace and rhythm. She ceased withdrawing all the way. Instead, keeping her penis sheathed in his ass, Vas began smoothly stroking up and back in Hicks ass, taking regular, six-inch thrusts that brought the flare of the foreshaft partially out of his ass, letting him experience its full thickness before once again burying it deep in his straining rectum. The swell of the foreshaft did an excellent job of massaging Hicks prostate, and he knew that orgasm was not far off. Vas seemed to know it too (maybe she smelled it approaching?), and eased the pace of her stroking of Hicks' cock. Instead, she ran her fingers back and forth over the tip, spreading his preliminary seepage over the firm head. The fingers left him momentarily, and Hicks heard Vas lick them clean, only to return them to his cock, touching him intimately. Hicks took a deep breath and tried to relax, tried to delay the inevitable.

"Good, baby, hold it off," he suddenly heard Vas softly say from behind him. They were the first words she'd spoken since she'd first entered his ass. He noted that her voice was tight, and that her breath sounded like it was coming faster. "I want us to come together. . ."

Hicks didn't trust himself to reply, not sure his voice would work properly. Instead, he just nodded his head. He felt Vas go deeper in his ass, her massive foreshaft probing far up his rectum. There was a little pain as her huge prick followed the contours of his intestines, but she slid inexorably deeper with every minute that passed. Vas gave a soft grunt, the first outward sign she'd given of her own sexual torment. Other, more forceful grunts followed, until she began to sound like some bestial sex-creature; definitely not human.

Orgasm was now burning in Hicks' cock. Vas had stopped stroking it altogether, sensing that any more stimulation than that she was already giving him through fucking his ass would end it for him quickly. Instead, she just held his big, beautiful cock with a firm, steady hand, while she continued to thoroughly ream his ass. Not being able to resist, Hicks looked back over his shoulder, and saw Vas more beautiful than he'd ever seen her, or anyone for that matter. Every inch of her glistened with sweat, lending her coffee skin a dark, caramel tone. She appeared as a glorious in-between creature to Hicks' amazed eyes, sensually feminine yet every inch the stud, the full swell of her tits in direct counterpoint to the thick, sleek muscles dancing all over her sweaty frame. Incredibly, it appeared that Vas was using muscles in her neck, shoulders, and even her arms to fuck him with. Most incredible was the look on her face, caught somewhere between torment at what his ass was doing to her cock, and deep gratitude, even love, for him as a friend and a fellow officer. Her expression said as clear as writing that she respected and admired him deeply, and was doing everything she could to show it to him.

As the final straw, Vas partially withdrew her huge organ from Hicks' asshole, and then angled it upwards. She began thrusting gently with supple, sensual flicks of her hips, stabbing him repeatedly in the prostate. It rapidly became humanly impossible to him to hold back his orgasm any longer after seeing her kneeling behind his ass, thrusting so expertly, reaming him so expertly. He climaxed into her hand, moaning, "Oh my god, oh my god. . ."

It was during his orgasm, which was violent in a way he'd never experienced, that he felt Vas slide all the way into him asshole, and then give an extra little flick of her hips against his ass. He felt the hot, thick swell of her knot enter his strained anus. Immediately, he heard Vas give a deep, shuddering moan, and he felt the knot begin to swell inside just his ass; she had slid all twelve inches of her huge, unusual cock up his ass, and was now steadily locking up with him, her penis inextricably meshed with his rectum. He felt Vas crouching over his back, bending forwards, until her tits touched his shoulder blades, until she was actually laying fully on her stomach, with his back taking her weight.

He looked back along his side, and saw her feet leave the bed.

Right there, laying fully on his back, her feet hanging from his sides, her arms wrapped around his waist, her loins pressed into her asscheeks, her cock locked a foot deep in his asshole, Juanita Vasquez gave a soft but intense cry of supreme arousal, experienced dual, simultaneous orgasms and erupted in stallion quantities deep inside him.

During the hour and twelve minutes it took Vas' knot to soften and shrink sufficiently for her to withdraw her cock from Hicks' asshole, the two officers spoke quietly, intimately, and at length about the Enterprise, testing each other for ideas on how to improve their already crack security team, what each could do the improve his or her working relation with each member of the team, who they thought were standouts, and who they thought needed help. Hicks never before felt as free to share ideas, or just talk to, a superior officer. Which, he guessed, was all part of Vas' plan for the team. He knew that in her, he'd met the best officer he would ever serve under (literally!) in his life.

When they returned to the Enterprise, they were closer than brother and sister.

To be continued. . .

(Just a reminder: I need some inspiration as to where to take this story next. E-mail! I answer everything.)