Author’s Note (11/01): This is one of my very first attempts at P/T Treksmut, and is, of course, the obligatory Jefferies tube story! That having been said, this story includes a graphic sexual encounter between a man and a woman. If this sort of thing offends you, or if you are underage, please do not read it. Rated NC-17. Written sometime after Season Four’s "Day of Honor," er, more or less.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns it all. Always has, always will. I accept this.

The Field
(Or: Jefferies tubes were probably not meant for this)
by Diane Bellomo

Although she and Tom were a recognized item among the Voyager crew, it still appealed to B’Elanna’s Klingon nature to be sneaking around like this.

It had started out as a desire to keep their relationship private, but then developed into something decidedly different when their romance was no longer such a secret thing. They both realized they were kind of sorry that everyone knew about them, recognizing that the fear of discovery had been one of the attractions, and so grew this little game. It was working out to a great degree of delight and satisfaction for both of them. To the best of their knowledge, no one knew about their game, and they were right.

About once every four weeks or so, but not so strict a pattern as to arouse suspicion, B’Elanna, still on duty, would manage to get herself away from main engineering and down a corridor she knew would be quite empty.

Sometimes it was good to be Chief.

Tom, on the other hand, might not be on duty, or he might be, but it was always something they did specifically when B’Elanna was on duty. Tom found no fault with this rule, especially since so far while playing the game their schedules had not coincided and each time he had been off duty when summoned.

Summoning was something else entirely. B’Elanna had rigged a signal from main engineering to Tom’s station on the bridge and to his quarters. It wasn’t anything so crude as an audiosignal. It was a light. A red light. A tiny, cherry-red light. And it blinked only once near his left knee on his console, but in his quarters, everything fell red and stayed red until he manually turned the light off at a toggle switch near his bed.

He figured she knew exactly what she was doing when she hooked the thing up. And she knew he would probably always be in his quarters when it was time to play, because she had also rigged the light to emit a moist heat, and it enveloped him the exact way she did when she finally got to him. A simple tap of his communicator and he knew where he was supposed to meet her.

She had him by the short hairs and he loved every minute of it.

* * *

On this particular day, B’Elanna was at the complete opposite end of the ship from engineering, in a deserted corridor that clearly had had no decent air circulation in a while, as it was less than comfortable. But there was an occasional cycling of air, so it was not unbearable, just warm. 

Given all the beatings Voyager had taken in the past five years, including the most recent one by those ugly brutes, the Hirogen, it was no wonder some things didn’t work so well anymore. She made a mental note to have someone check on it and continued to the location of choice today, a Jefferies tube.

It had been almost ten minutes since she summoned Tom. His quarters were closer than engineering to this chosen spot, so she wondered if perhaps he had beaten her here. He had only ever done that once before, and the corners of her mouth lifted at the thought.

She removed the cover to the tube and peered in. She couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here.

"Tom, lover, are you in here?" No answer. She crawled into the tube and replaced the cover. It was hotter in here, but she really didn’t mind. She preferred heat to cold, anyway. It was the Klingon in her. She stripped off her uniform top, unhooked and removed her bra from beneath the simple plum cotton Starfleet-issue tank top that came with the uniform, removed her boots, left everything in a heap, and began crawling down the tube.

Sweat beaded on her upper lip and she drew her tongue over it to remove it. Her sweat always tasted odd to her, part salty, like Tom, but part something else she figured was Klingon, but—having tasted a few Klingons in her life—didn’t quite taste like that, either. She kept forgetting to ask Tom if he could put a name to what she tasted like, since she was never able to identify it herself. The duality of her nature was a constant source of frustration to her, as it seemed to be at once both the mystery and the key to all that she was. Slowed by her thoughts, she picked up the pace of her crawling and then stopped abruptly when she thought she heard something.


A low rumbling growl was coming from not too far ahead of her. She smiled widely at the sound, her slightly sharp teeth glinting in the dim light, but squinted down the length of the tube because she still could not see anyone. She twisted onto her rear end and yanked off her uniform pants, leaving only black panties, the plum tank top, and a pair of black socks. The growling had not stopped, so she turned and continued crawling towards it.

"Where are you? I can’t see you."

"Right here, baby."

She jumped a mile at the sound of his voice. Where the hell was he? He sounded so close, she thought she had to be right on top of him, but she could not see him. This was starting to piss her off, but she fought against the feeling, remembering the surprises she had gotten the last time Tom had beaten her to their rendezvous.

"C’mon, Tom, show me."

"Put your hand out, straight out in front of you."

She did as instructed and had only stretched a few inches when her hand brushed a static field, giving her fingertips an unusually-pleasing tingle. She drew back slightly as the field suddenly changed from being what must have been a holo-image of an empty Jefferies tube to the real thing, revealing Tom, lying about three feet to the other side of it, on a fluffed-up mattress that just fit inside the tube. He was on his back and completely, completely naked. She sucked in her breath and saw him smile.

"Beat ya."

"Okay," she purred, "now what?"

"Now what? You have to ask? Come and get me."

"But…but the field, you know, the forcefield you have here."

"B’Elanna." His voice was rich, dripping, and he stretched her name out to several more syllables than it already contained. God, how she loved it when he said her name like that. Of its own accord, her hand reached down, and she was not at all surprised to find her panties soaked. She slid her hand inside the underwear and touched herself, stroking in comfortable familiarity. Her eyes dropped shut and she rocked forward and back, emptying her lungs in one lengthy sigh of satisfaction.

Tom twisted his head around to look at her. He could see straight down the loose tank top, and he could smell her. B’Elanna liked to claim he gave off a sexual scent that she could pick up on the next deck, but he knew it was nothing compared to her.

She smelled like honest human sweat and freshly turned earth to him and other things he was less sure of. He had never been on the Klingon homeworld, but he suspected that whatever odors its elements gave off, this was B’Elanna’s fragrance during her most sexually aroused moments. To say this was arousing him was a mighty understatement.

He was hard as a rock, and if his dick could talk it would have been screaming at him to get on with it. But he was so glad he had beaten her here. He had a little more control over the game this way, and he was determined not to let things progress too quickly, even though they were on a rather strict time limit. His penis would have to be patient.

"B’Elanna?" He shortened her name to normal this time and made it a sharp question to gain her attention before she came all over herself. He didn’t mind when she did that, but he really didn’t want her to do it right now, especially not when he had such a special treat ready for her (besides his penis, of course).

She choked in a breath and ripped her hand from between her legs, using it to steady herself. "Kahless! What, Tom, what? The forcefield, remember?"

"B’Elanna, did the field hurt you when you touched it?"

She thought a moment. It seemed like a year ago she had touched it. "No. It tingled a little, that’s all."

Well, then, trust me, okay? I repeat, come and get me. But not too fast now," he amended quickly, turning his head and lying back, waiting for her.

She crawled forward, touching the top of her head to the field, and felt the tingling along her scalp. Without fear, she raised her head slightly and continued, feeling the tingling on her forehead ridges, her eyelids, nose, and lips. She put her head through. The field touched the base of her neck and sent a shockwave spiraling down her spine to her ass, circling around through her cunt and up to her nipples, bringing them to aching erection. She would have cried out if she could have remembered how.

As quickly as she could, she brought one knee forward for balance and put the opposite arm through the field, feeling the tingling play up and down her arm and shoulder. Her other arm came through and now both knees and her chest were right up next to the field. She leaned forward.

The instant her breasts made contact, the tingling became something altogether different, like many hands were fondling both her breasts at the same time, caressing, tickling, massaging with expert design. Then the pins-and-needles sensation returned with a vengeance, its full attention on her nipples, making them harden further, heightening their sensitivity till she thought she would climax from this feeling alone. Goosebumps rose over every inch of her sweating body and it seemed a supreme inconsistency that she would be so hot and yet so cold at the same time.

She had never experienced anything even remotely like this before. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. She wanted to move forward, but she could no longer do that, either. The field held her there, robbed her of any ability beyond being a slave to the sensations coursing through her. She wanted to come so badly it hurt, but the tingling refused to let her, giving only this much pleasure and no more. She felt her arms give out and tried to sit back, but heard Tom’s voice on the outside rim of her awareness and felt him take her arms.

"No, no, B’Elanna, no turning back. Come all the way through, now. All the way through." He returned her hands to the floor and rested his hands on her shoulders, gently urging her to move her knees. His eyes were locked on her crotch as one knee broke through and the field split her.

If the stimulation of her breasts was unlike anything she had ever felt before, the field’s direct contact with her clitoris was beyond physical imagining. She thought she was going to pass out right there, but instead, the field finally permitted the release she so desperately wanted only moments before.

Her orgasm hit her like a lightening bolt to a grounding rod and she ejaculated with such force that the milky fluid could not stay contained in her underwear but came gushing down her legs.

His hands still on her shoulders, Tom inhaled deeply.

"Come on, angel." Tom helped her clear the field, and as it ran through her other leg, another climax surged its way through her, well before the first one was over. She found her voice and screamed, a long, low-pitched warrior sound that Tom just wanted to chew on. She collapsed in his arms and he half-dragged her to the mattress, stretching out beside her. If she hadn’t been panting like she had when she was in the throes of Ensign Vorik’s Vulcan blood fever, he might have thought she was unconscious. Nothing moved but her chest. He clicked the field off and checked the time. They didn’t have too much left.

When she regained her breath and her equilibrium, she opened one eye and queried him.

"What the heck was that?"

"That? Oh, just a little something I picked up from a geek friend of mine at the Academy. He called it his "cumfield." I believe it’s the only one of its kind. Like it?"

"My god, Tom, a person could die from too many orgasms like that."

"I don’t think so. But I’ll take that as a yes." As he said this, he reached over and ran his fingertip along the inside of her panty leg. It was very, very wet. She squirmed. She had wanted to ask him why he had kept this little device to himself for so long, but the question evaporated with his touch. She spread her legs for him and let his fingertip continue its exploration around the edge of her panties.

When he reached the mound of damp curls, he dipped his finger into the warm wetness and stirred gently. She moaned, mumbled an obscenity, and covered his hand with hers, pressing his finger deeper into her.

"B’Elanna," he said, in that syrupy way, and this time she growled in luscious Klingon fashion and bared her teeth to the top of the tube. Lifting her hips off the mattress, she allowed him to strip off the panties, only sorry this meant he had to remove his finger.

He tugged on the sweaty tank top until it was finally off her and then leaned down and took a firm nipple into his mouth, noisily sucking like a hungry infant. His thick finger found her center again and was joined by another. He pumped them rhythmically in and out, a third finger joining the other two. Her fluid coated his hand, filled his palm. He could feel the moist heat rising off her, and images bathed in cherry-red filled his head.

Once more, he inhaled deeply the alluring scent of his lover. He would never get enough of the smell of her.

Much as he wanted to, he kept his thumb away from the taut bud above his fingers, knowing that because of the field’s intensity, it was too soon to touch her there without causing her pain. No matter. He could wait. They were not out of time yet.

It seemed strange that after all this they had not yet kissed, so when he traded her nipple for her mouth, it felt almost as though they had never done this before at all. B’Elanna’s full dusky lips were like velvet against his, pliable and insistent, and he immersed himself in them for many minutes.

His fingers continued their dance inside her, and when he felt a muscle flex against them, he knew it was time.

Certainly his penis knew.

He tenderly removed his fingers and shifted to place his cock directly at her entrance, teasing the slippery opening with its tip. She smiled up at him, the points of her canines resting on her lower lip, giving her a vampiric appearance, causing him to harden further, as if that were even possible. She nodded and arched slightly to give him easier access.

She was so well lubricated that he fairly floated into her. A guttural sound issued from the back of her throat as she drew her heels up till her feet were flat on the mattress, and he slipped even deeper into her. She thrust against him. He covered her mouth with his, and their tongues moved in sensual imitation of the more intimate act they were presently engaged in.

Tom’s penis felt it first. Contracts that grabbed him, squeezed, grew stronger with each passing second. My god, it felt so good, he did not want it to end, but he was positive he could not hold out much longer.

She tore her mouth from him, gasped and stuttered, "Tom…Tom…Tom…" It appeared, thank god, that he would not have to hold out a single second longer. She jerked in a motion familiar to him as he felt a strong contraction grip his cock and she ground her hips into his. He spoke words he had used before and knew they would send her over, taking him right along with her.

"You come for me, par’mach’kai, he commanded. "Come for me right now. He grunted and thrust in counterpoint to her, stiffened briefly, and sent his hot seed cascading into her.

She cried out at the same moment, arching further, voicing a mix of Klingon and Federation Standard words that made no sense.

Then she went limp and fell back onto the mattress, blowing air and smiling, still connected to him. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, wiping sweat off her ridges with the back of her hand.

"Woo-hoo, Tommiebaby, you sure know how to talk to a girl."

"Only to you, lover, only to you." As he said this, he thrust into her one last time in a show of mock dominance, and then gently withdrew, rolling onto his back beside her. They lay in companionable silence for a while. Then out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise her hand again to her face to inspect the back of it, a frown knitting up her eyebrows.

Uh oh.


"B’Elanna?" He tried the syrup trick, but he knew he was in for it and so couldn’t manage to capture the proper tone.

"My hand looks bruised. Does it look bruised to you?" She held out her hand to him, glancing into his face.

She saw it immediately.

He saw her jaw tighten.

"What is this about, Thomas?"

"Well, uh…" He sat up and reached for his t-shirt, figuring he’d be better off a little less exposed while he explained this to her.

"Out with it." She sat up as well and reached for the tank top, throwing it on. She looked down at her thighs. They were beginning to bruise, too.

"Tom." There was fierceness in her voice, made even more frightening by the fact that she was not yelling.

"Okay, okay. Listen, it’s kinda why I haven’t shared the field with you or anyone else before this. There’s this sort of, well, caution about possible bruising."

She looked at her arms. They were coloring up. Now she raised her voice. "POSSIBLE bruising? Christ, Tom, look at me!"

"I’m sorry, B’Elanna. I was hoping maybe your tough Klingon genes would protect you against this side effect. I guess I hoped wrong." 

She hit him on the arm, hard, follow-through and all. And screeched because she had forgotten just that quickly that her hand was turning purple. "Ouch! Shit, Tom!" She shook her hand to ease the pain. "At least you’ll have one bruise, but it won’t come close to this." She turned her back on him and began yanking on her panties.

"B’Elanna, honey, I said I was sorry, and I meant it. C’mon, give me a break. I truly thought you wouldn’t have the same reaction as us mere humans. You should have seen me after I used it."

She finished pulling up her panties and turned to him, eyes sparkling with interest. "You used it?"

"Yeah, just the one time after old Ace introduced it to me and Sandra, my girlfriend at the time. Of course, he didn’t say anything about the side effect until after I had the climax of the century." He shook his head at the memory. "Sheesh, it was amazing."

B’Elanna certainly had no argument there.

"Sandra was a little scared, but she followed me through anyway. I didn’t get to enjoy her or help her the way I did with you, because I was so exhausted afterwards that I couldn’t see straight. But, you know, now I think about it, Sandy didn’t respond at nearly the level you did.

"Anyway, when the bruising started, I started beating the crap outta Ace, buck naked and in pain and all, but he wasn’t a stupid man. He said he’d give the thing to me if I stopped hitting him and didn’t turn him in. I figured that was fair enough, since he weighed all of 150 pounds and I had no intention of squealing on him.

"But you should have seen Sandra and I in the infirmary, trying to come up with a believable reason why we were so uniformly bruised. Man, it was funny. I know the doctor knew we were lying, but I thank God to this day that she never raised a red flag on us. She just fixed us up and sent us on our way. Never asked a single question.

"I’d give a bar of gold-pressed latinum to see what she put in her report." He chuckled a moment and then looked over at B’Elanna. She was stretched out on her belly on the mattress, her chin in her hands, listening to him. Her skin was tinged purple even in the tube’s dim light.

"B’Elanna." He reached out to her and she rose up to meet him. He touched her gingerly, afraid it would hurt her as much as it looked like it would, but she surprised him.

"Don’t worry, lover, you lucked out this time. Apparently my Klingon genes did rally to the rescue. I know I look pretty awful, but it really doesn’t hurt. Except for my knuckles, of course." She laid her lips against his, opened her mouth, and let him coax her tongue into his mouth. Her hands went around to grab his ass, pulling him to her, drawing his organ up between her legs. Just then a faint beep sounded. They pulled apart, hating it.

"That’s the clock, baby. Time’s up."

"Damn, damn! How long’s it been?"

"An hour, but I cheated and added another ten minutes. If you don’t get back pronto, and Kathy finds out, she’ll rip you a new asshole." He reached behind her, dipped his hands into her panties, and ran his fingers into the crack between her ass cheeks, producing a lovely gasp. "And I kinda like your old asshole just fine!" He pinched her butt and let her go.

"Don’t forget you’d better stop in sickbay first. I assume the Doc will respect your confidentiality, but I’m sure he’ll ask more questions than Dr. Crusher did." He wasn’t quite paying attention when he said this and was about ready to laugh out loud when he chanced to look at B’Elanna. She wore such a scowl that he looked away, laughter gone, upset with himself for not thinking before he spoke. He’d hate to have her leave in a foul mood. That would definitely not bode well for the future of the game.

He dared look at her again and was greatly relieved to see the scowl had vanished. She wasn’t angry, but it was clear this game was over. She turned around to begin crawling back down the tube towards the rest of her clothing. "I’m gone. You’ll clean up?"

He grabbed her one last time and brought her forcefully into his arms. "Yes," he hissed into her ear, "I’ll clean up after you any time, par’mach’kai." He loved saying that word, loved her reaction to it, even when he garbled the pronunciation, as he did just now.

Eyes locked on his, she made a throaty nonhuman sound and reached between his legs to stroke him, slitting her eyelids and smiling when she felt his cock stir in her hands.

He closed his eyes and sighed. She would always be mistress of this game and his heart, no matter how many times he tried to improve the odds. And, truth was, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

She snarled some Klingon phrase he did not know and did not care to learn, and then released him.

He sat back on the mattress and watched her slim ass retreat down the tube. He watched as she reached all of her clothing and hastily put it on, except for the bra, which she left for him to pick up. He watched her carefully remove the cover of the tube, step out, and carefully replace it.

He sat there a while longer, in the quiet, breathing in the lingering scent of her. He clicked on the forcefield and let his fingertips brush lightly against it, feeling the tingling and remembering B’Elanna’s exquisite reaction. What a game today. He clicked the field off and smiled broadly.

"B’Elanna." His tone was perfect.