TITLE: By Her Own Hand (Part 1/1)
AUTHOR: ReAnne Moreau
SUMMARY: This is a response to a really old challenge to write a story
about a captain, a tricorder and masterbation.
Star Trek Voyager and the characters are the property of Paramount. No
copyright infringement is intended. The dirty mind is my own. Please
feel free to archive.
Kathryn wandered into the bedroom, removing the pins that had held her
hair on top of her head and ran her fingers through the long strands,
leaving them to fall in disarray about her shoulders. Her skin was
still moist and flushed from the long hot bath. Standing in front of
the full-length mirror, she stretched, running her hands over her body,
inspecting herself for any sign of incipient captain's paunch and
finding only sleek muscle. She glanced over at her empty bed. There
would be no-one tonight to admire her beautiful, taut body, no-one to
relieve the ache that throbbed at her center.
She ran fingertips delicately over the soft creamy skin, lingering over
the crease beneath each firm, full breast and the sensitive skin of her
underarms, gasping as they brushed her hungry sex. She admired the
effect in the mirror. Her nipples were hard and flushed a dusky rose,
her pupils dilated with arousal, chest heaving with every deep breath.
There was a straight-backed chair in the far corner of the room. Eyes
closed, she imagined that he sat there, watching, devouring her with
his eyes as she touched herself. With palms spread flat against her
skin she traced the contours of her body, small whimpers of pleasure
escaping her lips. He watched her with burning blue eyes, aroused by
her beauty, wanting to see more. There was no question of the
watcher's identity. It had been him in her mind and heart since that
first day at Auckland. She burned for the touch of those long skillful
fingers, for the sound of his voice crying out her name in passion.
Climbing onto the bed, she reclined against the pillows, legs spread to
allow wandering fingers to part and caress the glistening pink folds.
She couldn't hold back the moans that were already rising to her lips.
Her body screamed for release. She knew the pleasure that would come
from denying it for just a moment longer.
Kathryn selected a pillow from the many scattered about the bed, a long
cylinder used to relieve the tension in her neck. She had other uses
for it now. Kneeling, she placed the pillow on the bed between her
thighs. Once again she closed her eyes, feeling her imaginary lover
drink in the sight of her naked body. Her hands roamed over her skin
again, kneading the firm buttocks, scratching her belly lightly with
her fingernails. Unable to stand it for another minute she lowered her
self onto the pillow and began rocking her vulva against it to relieve
the awful throbbing, rubbing until she felt the wetness trickle onto
the fabric. She was making the most incredible sounds deep in her
She slid her palms up her thighs, over the flat stomach, to cup both
breasts. Eyes closed, she began kneading them, tugging and rolling the
nipples. Her hips rocked constantly. There was no room for subtlety.
The ache between her legs was unbearable. She could feel her lover's
eyes burning her flesh. She heard herself moan, a keening, whimpering
sound. Her fingers rubbed the tips of her nipples in rhythm with the
motion of her hips. This was so hot, knowing he was watching her. She
couldn't wait another second. One hand snaked down between her legs to
spread the dripping sex wide, rubbing the engorged lips on the rough
fabric. She cried out, trembling as she rubbed. Finally, finally, she
touched herself where she so desperately needed contact. She stroked
herself rapidly, breath rasping in her throat.
Her body stiffened, then convulsed. She cried out, head thrown back,
spine arched in ecstasy as pulse after pulse of pleasure seared her
bones. It was his name she called, the blue fire of his eyes that
burned in her veins. She remained motionless for a moment, savoring
the after shocks, then with a sigh of relief fell backward onto the bed. A
light film of sweat glistened on her fair skin.
With a deep chuckle she rolled onto her stomach, pushed the tangle of
auburn hair out of her eyes and regarded the chair in the corner of the
room. The blinking red light on the tricorder signaled that it's
recording function was still operative.
"I hope you enjoyed that Tom, I certainly did." Her voice was a deep,
sensual purr. "I wouldn't want you to get bored all alone on that
shuttle." She kicked the ruined pillow off the bed with one foot and
grinned into the camera. "I can't wait until you get back from your
away mission. We can find some more furniture to wreck."
She stretched lazily, like a contented cat on a sunny windowsill and
curled up to sleep, looking up at the tricorder's camera lens one more
time. "By the way, I love you, Helmboy. Computer, end recording and