Star Trek: The Next Generation, 'Vacation'

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2020 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
*** Author's Note ***
Okay, it had to happen. I decided to try my hand at the inevitable Star Trek adventure. Hopefully this one's a little different. Please let me know how well I fared.

The Flogmaster

Star Trek: The Next Generation
Part 1

(****, MM/fffFFF, Severe, caning)

The captain of the Enterprise has his holodeck vacation interrupted -- and the crew's perspective of Captain Picard is forever altered. (Approximately 5,594 words. Originally published 1996-04.)

Captain Picard began to take off his clothes. Slipping off his uniform, he placed his combadge on the dresser next to the cowboy hat. He put on the old bucksin pants and boots first, and then the white shirt and bandana. He strapped the belt of six-guns around his waist and dragged the hat across the dresser and placed it on his head, cocking it to an angle. In his enthusiam he failed to notice the combadge had fallen onto the floor. Grinning with excitement, he left his quarters and headed for holodeck three.

It was time for a vacation. He hadn't had a vacation in years. But Dr. Crusher had insisted, and though Picard didn't like the orders, he had it admit it would feel good to relax for a few days. The last few weeks had involved some strenuous treaty negotiations and Picard felt drained. Besides, he had an exciting new simulation planned and the crew had the strictest orders that he was not to be disturbed. He could finally let himself go.

"Computer, personal holodeck program Picard SS-474."

"Working," the computer said. "Simulation complete. Enter when ready."

"Computer, I want an alpha priority lockout on this door. No one is to come in or out or interupt me."


"Authorization Picard Alpha Code 703, security program Picard Zero-3."


The doors slid open and Picard entered, the adventure beckoning. He felt young again, ready to take on the world. He looked around him.

It was desert. Sand and rock and a few scattered plants and cacti. A hot dry wind came down from the north and breathed on him. It was very quiet. Picard headed for the town in the distance.

The town was called Deadville and it sure looked like it. There wasn't anything more on main street then a saloon and a general store. But all a town needed was a saloon to be called a town. Picard headed straight for the bar.

Inside it was still hot and Picard felt thirsty. He went up to the bar and asked for a whisky. Several men were sleeping with heads on their hands at various tables, and three men were engaged in a half-hearted poker game. They watched Picard with suspicion and distrust. The captain ignored them.

"The girls upstairs?" he said gruffly to the bartenderer.

The man looked at him without speaking, and then shrugged. "Who wants to know?"

"Name's Picard."

The bartender's eyes widened, glancing toward the Captain's six-guns. "Deadeye Picard?"

"Some call me that."

"Well, yesir! We got girls. All you want. Cheap, too."

"Good. I want your two youngest and prettiest."

"Follow me." The man led the captain up the rambling wooden staircase and pounded on the first door on the second floor. Feminine squeals erupted from inside. The man opened the door and Picard saw a room full of half-dressed women lounging on beds or sitting in front of makeup mirrors. When the women saw the Captain they stood up straight and waited, each giving him a private, personal smile.

Picard immediately knew who he wanted. There was a young girl near the back, small and frightened. Her face was pure and unblemished, her body slender. She did not smile at him. Another woman, a bit older, but still attractive, intrigued him. Her expression was one of bemusement, adventure, and unadulterated lust. She was not hesitant to express herself, and Picard liked that.

He pointed to the two he wanted. The bartender nodded and quickly led the chosen two out of the room and down the hall. The older girl opened the door to a private room and motioned for the captain to follow.

"Go ahead. I'll be in there in a minute." When the girls were out of hearing Picard put his mouth near the bartender's ear and whispered. The man frowned and shook his head.

"Please, sir, they are my best girls--"

"You will be compensated."



The bartender's face lightened. "Yes sir!"

He returned a few minutes later, tapping on the door softly. Picard had the youngest girl go to open it, walking across the room naked. He enjoyed watching her walk. The bartender gave the girl what Picard had wanted: a long-handled buggy whip. The girl took it, her face dark with concern, and gave it to the captain.

Picard grinned at the two naked women standing before him. Their eyes were bright with alarm. Both stood with their hands nervously beside them, naked breasts shivering slightly, a soft dark mass of potential gleaming between their legs.

The Captain lifted the whip and cracked it loudly in the air, enjoying the wincing from the two girls. At his signal both girls reluctantly turned, showing him the sleek skin of their plump bottoms. Picard sighed with delight as he witnessed the magnificent sight. In moments that pale flesh would be striped with gorgeous red lines. The thought aroused him violently, and he lifted the whip high above his head and brought it down with a loud crack, catching the buttocks of both girls at once...

* * * * *

"Sensors are detecting a strange anomalie ahead, sir," said Data calmly. "It's moving toward us."

Commander Riker glanced up from the captain's chair. "Give me visual, Lieutenant."

The viewscreen glowed to life with black space speckled with white stars and distant colored nebulae. Near the center of the screen was a tiny white glow. Data magnified the glow and soon it commanded the full screen. The oddly-shaped white object pulsed with energy, looking like a giant parmeciam.

"Data: how large is it?" asked Riker urgently.

"Very large. It is 152.7 times the size of the _Enterprise_."

"Is it alive?"

"That's difficult to say. It's an energy field, extremely high frequency. I cannot acertain the source of its power."

"Does it pose a threat?"

"Unknown. If it came in direct contact with the ship our shields would not protect us. Its mass and energy is far greater than we are capable of insulating against."

"All right, then. Evasive maneuvers. Let's steer clear of this energy field."

"Aye aye, sir. Course change calculated and implemented."

Riker watched as the white glow began to disappear off the view-screen as the ship turn starboard. A moment later, however, the glow was back at the center of the screen.

"What's going on, Data? I thought we implemented a course change!"

"We did. But--"

"But what!"

"It appears to be following us. It has increased speed to surpass ours. Estimated contact in seven point four-three minutes."

"Helmsman, increase speed to warp factor four," ordered the Commander, easing backward into the command chair, forcing himself to relax.

"Still with us, Commander. The entity has matched our speed increase."

"It must be an intelligent lifeform," said Riker, thoughtfully massaging his beared.

"Affirmative," reported Data. "I've been attempting to contact it on all known frequencies. No response."

"Counselor, what do you detect from the entity?"

Troi tilted her head slightly. "I'm not sure, Commander. I-I get a feeling of confusion. And loneliness. It's certainly a sentient being, but it is very different from us."

"Does it intend to harm us?"

"I'm not sure. It does not fear us. It is possible it is simply curious."

"Well, its curiosity could destroy this ship!" growled Riker. "Go to maximum warp."

A moment later Data responded: "No good Commander. It's still there, traveling slightly faster. Estimated contact in eight point seven minutes."

Riker stood up with determination. "I'd better alert the Captain." He tapped his combadge and spoke: "Captain Picard, this is First Officer Riker. Sorry to interupt your holoholiday, but we have an urgent matter."

There was no response. "Captain Picard? Can you hear me?" Riker frowned. "Computer, locate the Captain."

"Captain Picard is in holodeck three. The Captain's combadge is in his quarters."

"He's not wearing his combadge? Damn it, that's against protocol!" Riker turned to Lieutenant Worf. "Worf, go to holodeck three and inform the Captain what is happening here. Counselor, please go with him." Counselor Troi nodded and followed Worf to the turbolift.

Shortly there came a message from the Counselor. "Commander, the Captain has apparently blocked access to the holodeck with a priority security code. We cannot enter."

"Damn it!" shouted Riker. "Data, see if you can't talk your way through that blasted computer!"

"Aye sir." Data quickly left the bridge.

"Computer," asked Riker urgently. "What is the status of Captain Picard?"

"He is in holodeck three."

"Yes, but why can't I communicate with him? Is he incapcitated?"

"Captain Picard is fully functional," responded the computer patiently. "His body functions are within established parameters, though his heartbeat, respiratory rate, and temperature are considerably above normal. You cannot communicate with him because he is not wearing his combadge and the simulation in progress on holodeck three has been set to prohibit outside contact."

Riker worried about the captain's physical state. He slapped his badge. "Dr. Crusher, report to holodeck three. Possible medical emergency." He touched the com again. "Data, any progress?"

"No, Commander. This is intriguing, however. The Captain has created a level-zero security seal that will not respond to manual overrides. The algorithm is particularly fascinating--"

"We don't have time for fascinating, Data! Break open that door!"

"Yes sir."

* * * * *

Jennifer Hodges was terrified. When the strange bald man with the guns had interupted their school lessons she had been concerned but confident Mr. Trilly would stop the intruder. Now, however, most of the students had been allowed to go home and only Laura Zimmer, Tracey Lansing, Elly Wiler, and herself remained. After accepting an envelope from the strange man, Mr. Trilly had instructed the girls to obey the man--he was the school superintendent there to provide the girls with discipline. Then Mr. Trilly had left the schoolroom in a frantic hurry.

Elly had been the first. She'd been forced to remove her dress and undergarments until she was quite indecent and then the bald man had flogged her with Mr. Trilly's rod. He had not been gentle either, laying stripe after red stripe across her pale hind cheeks, and no amount of pleading and weeping on her part had halted his discipline.

Tracey had gone next. She'd received the identical treatment as Elly, but she'd whined and fussed a great deal more. Jennifer didn't care much for Tracey's prissy ways, though the girl was pretty, and so she'd been pleased so see Tracey humiliated.

Now Laura was undressing and placing herself before across the teacher's desk, bending far forward so the tips of her breasts brushed the desktop, her hips grinding against the desk edge. Her naked buttocks loomed large and lily-white behind her, the gentle curves strangely compelling. Jennifer felt tears come to her eyes as the rod swept through the air and lashed across the girl's tender rump. Laura squealed, wiggling frantically.

"What did we doooo?" she moaned loudly. "Please, why?"

"Be quiet, young slut!" scolded the man crisply, his rod descending again.

"Oooohhh," moaned the girl and she burst into sobs. Again and again the stick cracked across her plump hind end, each stroke leaving a delectable welt, red and pulsing.

Jennifer knew she was next. There was no escape. She was terrified and yet she felt excitement coursing through her body. It had been several years since she'd last felt intense pain--that had been a severe thrashing from her father--but now she was older and supposedly beyond such childish punishments.

At last the whipping was over and Laura was allowed to stand. She made her way to the wall where she stood, hands behind her neck as ordered, next to the nude weeping forms of Elly and Tracey. All three girls bore well-marked bottoms and striped legs, and all three heaved and panted as tremendous sobs coursed through their punished bodies.

Jennifer, heart pounding so loudly she could no longer think, stepped forward at the man's command and began removing her dress. Like the others, she wore numerous inner garments, but it seemed far too little time before she was naked before the man. She forced her legs to move and somehow, though her heart rebelled, managed to place herself across the desk. She waited, tears already filling her eyes, for that first stinging crack of the rod across her vulnerable rump.

It never came.

Instead she heard a hissing sliding sound and watched with astonishment as the wall of schoolroom opened and a bizarre assortment of strangers appeared. All were wearing odd, tight-fitting garments of smooth cloth, seemingly without seams. The pants were black and the tops had triangle blocks of color.

In the front stood a monster. He was man-like but not. His skin was black and his forehead covered with scales. His expression was one of anger and disgust. Behind him stood a figure whose face was far too pale--he looked like he ought to be dead. Next to him stood a man with black skin, a small box in one hand, a strange tube encircling and covering his eyes like a blindfold.

Behind the men were two women, both beautiful. The older one looked stern and harsh; her expression was a critical one. She reminded Jennifer of her mother, always scolding. The second woman was much more feminine, rounded and pleasant. Her expression was gentle, one of confiding and understanding. Jennifer did not fear her as she did the others.

As Jennifer watched, the faces of the intruders reacted at the scene before them. She watched their eyes dart to herself, to the figure behind her, rod upraised, and to the punished bottoms on display at one side. The faces melded into mixtures of shock, amusement, and embarrassment. Jennifer noticed the black monster appeared pleased and impressed. His teeth grinned in pleasure and Jennifer felt a shudder go through her body. Surely such a magnificent creature would tear her apart!

"What is the meaning of this?" roared the man behind her. His anger and unmistakable authority visibly pushed the intruders back. "I left strict orders not to be disturbed!"

"Are you all right, Captain?" said the prim-faced woman sternly, walking forward and pointing a box at the man.

"I am perfectly fine! What is the meaning of this intrusion? Could you not have simply called?"

"You are not wearing your combadge, Captain," said the pale man succinctly. "The ship is danger and we had no other means of contacting you."

"Damn it!" growled the bald man, his hand going to his chest and feeling that the familiar pin was missing. "All right," he sighed. "The vacation's over! Brief me!"

He threw the rod on the floor and Jennifer felt the tension drain from her body. She felt sorry for the other girls but incredibly lucky. She had escaped! She did not understand how or why, but apparently these others had come to take this "Captain" away. She slowly stood as the group left, several sneaking glances around the room and shaking their heads.

"Computer, end simulation."

Jennifer gasped as the world around her faded, and then she knew nothing.

* * * * *

Part 2

(****, MM/fffFFF, Severe, caning)

The captain of the Enterprise has his holodeck vacation interrupted -- and the crew's perspective of Captain Picard is forever altered. (Approximately 5,594 words. Originally published 1996-04.)

Data explained the anomoly to the captain as they rode the turbolift to the bridge. Picard nodded. "My I ask you a personal question, sir?" Data asked after a moment of silence.

"Ah? Oh, sure."

"What was the intent of that scene in the holodeck? You appeared to be physically chastising jeuveniles, but I cannot imagine that holopeople need such discipline."

Captain Picard glanced at Counselor Troi and she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. "It is only a form of entertainment, Data," she whispered. "I will explain it to you later." Her eyes went to the captain though her voice was directed at Data. "I had no idea the captain was into such games."

"Nor I," growled Worf from the corner. "But I am most impressed. You handled that cane like an expert, Captain. Those lines were precisely placed."

Picard's cheeks reddened slightly and he faced the door. "Please, no more of it," he said quietly as the door hissed open.

Commander Riker turned at the captain's entrance. "Oh, Captain. Sorry to disturb your vacation but it looks like it was for nothing, I'm afraid. The entity has vanished."

"Vanished?" Picard's voice was angry.

Data went to his console and typed rapidly. "According to the entity's last known course and speed it would now be several billion kilometers from our present position. We have no method of traveling at sufficient speed to recapture it."

"You interrupted my vacation for an entity that no longer troubles us?" rumbled Picard quietly.

"Apparently so, sir. Again, my apologies." Riker bowed.

"Captain, as it appears there is no longer an emergency, could I speak to you for a moment--in private?" Counselor Troi's eyes were wide and her manner docile.

"Certainly, Counselor. But not right now. The Doctor, I'm afraid, has _ordered_ me to sickbay as soon as I'm able." His voice showed his obvious displeasure at being told what to do. "I'd better get it over with."

The counselor nodded. "Yes, sir. Later, then."

* * * * *

"So the Captain was seeking sexual pleasure through discipline?" asked Data.

Geordi nodded. "I guess he gets off whipping young girls."

"You do not approve?"

"Approve? Well, as long as it's just a holofantasy I don't suppose it makes much difference one way or another. I don't claim to understand it, though. I suppose I understand the theory behind it, but not the actuality."

Data frowned. "Humans' attitudes toward sex are incomprehensible. Why should one form of sex--say whipping or oral--be any more alarming than any other form?"

"It has to do with taste, Data. Some people like vanilla better than chocolate."

Data nodded. "I never understood that either." He paused. "Lieutenant Yar was always extremely physical in her love-making," said the android, remember his daliances with the former security chief.

"She had you whip her?"

"Frequently. Spanking was her favorite. With my strength and titanium alloy structure a simple hand-spanking was more severe than a wooden paddle."

"Amazing. I never knew."

"Her sexual interests were quite varied, in fact. On occasion she had me bind her so she could not move, and at other times she would have me attack her and attempt to rape her. Then she would escape and attack me, beating me down and eventually raping me. Then--"

Geordi shuddered. "Data, don't tell me more."

"Why not?"

"Well," Geordi paused. Explaining the intricacies of human behavior to the android was often quite delicate, though only for the one explaining. "It-it's considered improper to talk about your lovers with others, especially of sexual matters. Those are private between you and the lover."

"Oh," said Data. "So you do not want to her about her animal fantasies?"

"Her what? Er, no, I don't."

* * * * *

"Ah, Jean-Luc, please come in." The doctor casually pressed the lockout button on the door behind the captain. "Have a seat."

"Beverly, please. You know how I abhor these medical invasions. I am perfectly fine."

"I am aware of that, Captain."

Picard looked up in surprise. "Then why am I here?"

Beverly walked over to a wall compartment and pressed her thumb against the activator. Sensing her print it opened. She felt her face flush as she reached inside and took out a wooden object, polished and worn, obviously cherished and well-used. She kept it against her chest, hidden from the captain.

"I asked you here because I-because I wanted to ask you for a favor, Captain," said the doctor carefully. Her heart thudded loudly and she closed her eyes and prayed she could get through this.


"A personal, private favor, Jean-Luc."

"Beverly, please. You know how much you mean to me. I will do anything I can to help you."

Dr. Crusher nodded. "I know. When I saw you today in that holodeck scenario--"

"Doctor, please. I was on vacation. It was an amusement, nothing more. A childish fantasy."

A sharp pain struck Crusher's heart and she gasped. "No, Jean-Luc, you do not understand. It is not a childish fantasy at all! It is my fantasy, my dream!" She turned and walked to the captain, her arms cradling the ancient oak paddle.

"This belonged to my grandfather's father," she whispered softly. "My father made good use of it on me growing up. Though old-fashioned, he preferred it to the modern devices like the electrowhip."

"Beverly!" gasped Picard, his expression one of near panic. "You cannot be serious!"

"Please, Captain," begged the doctor. She fell down to her knees before the man. "I've been so hungry for it--since Wesley's father died there's been no one. Please--"

"Oh, Beverly." Picard took the woman in his arms and held her, her body shuddering with long-stored emotions.

"Jean-Luc," she whispered, sniffing, and hugging him tightly.

"I shall not be merciful," said the captain sternly. "You know that don't you? I shall take you to the edge and beyond."

"Take me there, please take me!" hissed the woman frantically. She clawed at the captain's uniform, her body pressed tightly against his. "I am yours."

The captain gripped her tightly for a moment and then broke away. He took the paddle from the table where she had placed it and hefted it in his hand. It felt solid and sturdy. He smacked it against his palm and grinned at the weight.

"I think you should get undressed and in position, Doctor," he said grimly. "Make it so."

* * * * *

It was late and Riker was tired. Ever since the captain's vacation had been interrupted it was as though an electrical current had been passed through every crew member on the ship. The rumors were growing wilder by the minute. Everyone was on edge.

Riker's duty shift was complete and he left the bridge in Data's capable hands. On the way to his quarters he was accosted by Ensign Ro. She wanted to know if he'd had the opportunity to examine her shuttlecraft maintenance report yet.

"I'm afraid I did, Ensign," said Riker with a sigh. He steeled himself to be stern. Though upbraiding junior crewmembers was a difficult task, it was one authority demanded he exercise. In the long run the crewperson would learn to appreciate the discipline.

"Not good, sir?" said Ro, her face falling at the look flashed by the handsome commander.

"Not good at all. I found three procedural violations and four obvious technical errors."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"Unfortunately that does not remove the errors, Ensign. I'm afraid this will go on report." Riker noticed that Ro stiffened at this news, her proud breasts thrust outward as she stood tall. Her Bajoran wrinkled nose appealed to the commander in a bizarre sort of way and to his surprise he found himself wondering what the woman was like in bed.

"Oh, please, sir, I'd rather not have this on my record. Couldn't I be disciplined in some other manner?" The woman's beautiful brown eyes were wide and appealing, the watery trace of tears softening the commander's heart. "I've been hearing these stories--"

"I can't," Riker said softly, weakening under her bewitching gaze. The idea wouldn't go away. "I shouldn't..."

"Oh, thank you, sir. Anything. I'll do anything you ask."

"It must be serious punishment. Such errors cannot go overlooked."

"Yes, sir."

Riker smiled. "Follow me." He went straight to his quarters. Ro nervously followed him inside. The commander disappeared into his bedroom and emerged flexing a thin white cane. "It has been a long time since I've used this," he said with a gentle smile. "But with the atmosphere on the ship I cannot get it out of my mind. I think five strokes per violation would be appropriate, wouldn't you agree?"

Ro gasped. "T-that's fifteen, sir."

"Yes. And one for each error, okay?"

"Another four. That's nineteen."

"How about we make it an even twenty then?" Riker smiled at Ro's slow nod. "Good. Now turn around and grab your ankles. Do not bend your knees. If you break position during the caning I shall start over and you will not have the protection of clothing. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," whispered Ro. Beads of sweat moistened her brow and her heart beat with deafening loudness. She obediently got into position, her hands gripping the back of her calves. Suddenly the proud Starfleet uniform seemed mightly thin and flimsy protection from the cane. Her ass was thrust out behind her, round like a basketball, just waiting for the whipping.

Riker lifted the cane high and brought it across her ass with a tremendous swish and crack. Ro gasped and tensed, her nerves on fire. Riker enjoyed watching her ass quiver and dance.

Again the cane swished and this time Ro grunted on impact. She was silent during the next few when another grunt escaped her lips. Though she wiggled mightily, she did not cry out.

After ten strokes Riker wanted to touch her ass, feel its round, sensuous curves, caress the skin covered with thin welts of liquid fire, but he could not allow himself. He forced onward to complete his task: twenty of the best.

A few of the strokes were crooked or off-center, and he wasn't proud of those. But Ensign Ro certainly learned to appreciate them, whimpering and biting her tongue not to howl. When the punishment was over she stood slowly, her body screaming at her. When Riker took her in his arms she did not protest but pushed against him, forcing her mouth against his. She needed this--this closeness born out of discipline. She wished it would never end.

* * * * *

"Captain, you look exhausted!" exclaimed Deanna Troi in surprise. "Please come in." The captain stumbled into her quarters and eased himself onto the sofa.

"I'm afraid I'm not as young as I used to be," he said with a wistful sigh. "I had a busy night and I'm all tired out."

"Are you sure you don't have a little energy left to do me a tiny favor?"

Picard steeled himself and looked up. "What is it?"

Suddenly Deanna found herself hesitant, if not speechless. The usually confident woman was not sure how to begin. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her cheeks reddened. "I'm not sure how to say this, Captain."

"Just say it."

"All right. I found your holoprogram quite interesting."

"Counselor, please. I do not want to have to defend myself. It was supposed to be private. I would rather you just forgot it."

"I'm not attacking you, Captain. I am saying I _liked_ your program."

The captain's eyes widened. "Are you saying--"


"Oh. I had no idea."

"No one does. I keep my personal life very personal."

"I see. Then why are you telling me this?"

Troi put her arms behind her, palms out, the back of her hands resting on her large bottom. This was a position she liked. It kept her hands from being a distraction, allowing the audience to focus on her face instead, creating a more authoritative atmosphere. It also comforted her to feel her own bottom, the shapely flesh gyrating under her as she paced.

"It has been a long time, Captain. I have not indulged myself since coming aboard the Enterprise. But I crave it. For a Betazoid, there is nothing quite as intimate as sharing pain."

Picard gulped. "Are you saying you want us to share pain?"

Troi shook her head. "No, I want you to give me pain, nothing more. No commitment, no relationship. Just pain. I will feel you giving it to me, both the physical sensation and your emotional stimulation. That is all I need."

The captain sat up straight. "You want me to spank you."

Troi nodded. "Please, sir, if you will."

"How will this effect our professional relationship?"

"I will never mention it, Captain, and I trust you to do the same."

Picard nodded. "Very well. Over my lap."

Deanna did not hesitate but drew herself across the man's legs. She felt a bubbling excitement in her belly combined with the acid taste of fear. This was it! She was really going to go through with it, really feel it for the first time in such a long time. She could hardly wait.

Picard's hand began to caress Deanna's round bottom in little circles, rubbing the smooth fabric of the tight uniform just hard enough to bring a buzz of feeling to the woman's buttocks. A sigh escaped her lips and she settled comfortably in the captain's lap, relaxing, her legs spreading slightly.

The captain lifted his palm and brought it down with a loud slap on Deanna's rump. She grunted and wiggled slightly, and he repeated the gesture. Five times he brought his hand down firmly on her right cheek, and then he did the same with her left. Deanna's bottom tingled with warmth. Again and again he spanked her, faster and faster, and soon she was moaning and quivering.

He stopped.

"Stand up and remove your uniform," he said sternly. Deanna stood and peeled off the one-piece uniform. Her voluptuous naked body revealed she wore no undergarments. Naked, she stretched back across the man's lap.

The starship captain wasted little time in being gentle. His steel-like hand pounded out a quick rhythm on Deanna's backside, the slaps echoing loudly in the small room. Soon, however, Deanna's terrible moans grew to such a volume that the spanks were barely audible.

Picard saw Deanna was nearing a climax and stopped. "Stand up!" he ordered and she obeyed, blood draining from her face.

"Please don't stop!" she begged. "I'm so close!"

"My hand is growing sore and you do not even feel the spanking any more," growled the captain. "I need something to spank you with. Do you have a paddle? Perhaps a belt?"

Deanna's eyes were wide with conflicting fear and lust. Without meaning to her eyes darted to the dresser in the far corner and then she looked away, realizing what she'd done. "There's nothing there," she told the captain as he rifled through her drawers.

"You call this nothing?" he said sternly, lifting out a long leather riding crop from its hiding place among lacy panties and undergarments. Deanna didn't speak but felt her heart flutter with excitement.

"To the bed," said the captain. "On your knees. Put that arse well into the air!"

Trembling, the counselor obeyed. She climbed onto the bed and put her face into a soft pillow and thrust her rump high into the air behind her. Her bottom was warm and tingling and she knew that in seconds it would be on fire. She wanted to run away and yet she knew she had asked for this, needed this.

She felt Picard approaching her, sensed his arousal and desire. She arched her back more enjoying the way that increased his passion.

There was soft "snick!" and a sharp bite nestled into Deanna's right buttcheek. She yelped and pushed her face into the pillow, allowing it to soak up her tears, the burn slowly filling her body. Again and again the crop descended, each stroke searing her flesh and increasing the intensity of her passion.

During the whipping Deanna became more and more divided between herself and the captain. She could feel his excitement, his enjoyment and lust at her quivering, striped bottom. She knew he loved to hear her moan in pleasure and pain and so she cooperated. But she knew too that this whipping was not as severe as he needed.

Though she already felt spent, she summoned her courage and gasped, "Harder! Please do it harder!"

The captain complied, striking her with all his strength, salty sweat dripping from his body and splashing across Deanna's welted bottom. It was all she could do not to scream.

Somehow she held it. She waited until she knew he was eminent and then released. Wild pleasure surged through her body as she heard him moaning and thrusting wildly. They came together, and yet they did not touch.

In a daze they collapsed, sweaty and exhausted. After a time the captain rose, threw the crop on the bed next to Deanna, and exited without a word. Deanna did not move but breathed slowly and deeply, and wept quietly. It had been a very long time indeed. She vowed she would not wait so long again.

* * * * *

"Anything to report, Number One?"

"No sir," said Riker, watching as the captain strode onto the bridge. He seemed rested and fit, with a confidence and affability the first mate hadn't seen in the man for months. "Weren't you going to take a vacation?"

Picard clapped his hands together with enthusiasm. "Don't need to. The Doctor says I am fine and ready for duty and for once, I concur with her professional opinion. I never felt better."

Riker shrugged. It was no business of his that the man suddenly looked ten years younger. He glanced around the bridge and saw the expressionless faces of Worf, Troi, and Data. No one else seemed to notice the change in the captain. "Proceed with our current course?" he asked finally.


"Aye, aye, sir."

The End