Why Janeway Doesn't Have Sex

BY : Odon
Category: Star Trek > Voyager
Dragon prints: 9905
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Why Janeway Doesn’t Have Sex (or ‘The Seven Solution’)

Author: Odon

Fandom: Star Trek Voyager.

Pairing: Janeway/Seven.

Rated: NC-17. Contains coarse language and explicit lesbian themes.

Summary: Seven of Nine discovers the REAL reason why Janeway doesn’t have sex. Parody.

Disclaimer: No profit is intended in the writing of this story. Star Trek: Voyager and its characters are the property of Paramount and Viacom.

Feedback to odon05@hotmail.com. Archiving and downloading is welcome as long as you credit the author. Many thanks to Meagan for beta-ing this.

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WHY JANEWAY DOESN’T HAVE SEX (or THE SEVEN SOLUTION)

‘Captain’s log, supplementary. I can’t understand a word that Lieutenant Torres is saying . . . ’

“The key,” babbled B’Elanna, “is to disrupt the molecular coherence of the energy field by directing an inverse polarity beam of negatively charged particles at the EXACT frequency at which the field resonates! Of course, with a fluctuating resonance emitter of the type you’re describing, it’s a bit more complicated.”

“Naturally,” said Janeway, nodding in apparent comprehension. She was beginning to get an ache in her head as well as her crotch.

“In THAT case you need to crack the so-called ‘random’ algorithm that keeps the resonations in harmony. The best way to do this is by means of an interplexing probe__”

“Where do you want this, B’Elanna?” interrupted a lieutenant with curly red hair. He was holding a small tinfoil packet.

“Just dump it straight in, Joe.”

“Lieutenant Carey!” Janeway exclaimedI haI haven’t seen you in . . . four years! Where have you been all this time?”

Carey glared at her. “Do the words ‘confined to your quarters for the duration of the investigation’ mean anything to you, Captain? Why didn’t someone tell me it was Seska?!” He stomped over to an enormous vat of liquid metal, ripped the tinfoil packet across the top and dumped its invisible contents inside. After a few seconds the liquid began to heave and boil. Satisfied, Carey picked up a long metal spoon and used it to stir the bubbling mass.

“Oh my God,” whispered Janeway. “I’d forgotten all about that! I thought Chakotay had him outside polishing the hull or something.”

“No, that’s Samantha Wildman. Look Captain, it would help if I had more details. Where exactly IS this forcefield you’re talking about?”

Janeway quickly changed the subject. “What was in that packet?”

“Construction nanobots,” said B’Elanna. “Over 50 million of ‘em; there’s no stopping the buggers. OK, that’s enough Joe!”

Lieutenant Carey stepped back, and the three of them watched as, from within the vat of liquid tritanium, rose yet another gleaming new shuttlecraft.

* * * * * *

“You wished to see me, Captain?”

“Seven,” said Janeway briskly. “I need your professional opinion on how to deactivate a Level 20 fluctuating resonance forcefield which has no apparent power source.”

“In theory, such a field could be disrupted by using an inverse polarity beam of negatively charged particles at the exact frequency__”

“Yes, yes, I know all that!” said the captain. “Unfortunately the field is in close proximity to some . . . important biomatter. I don’t want to risk damaging it.”

“What type of biomatter?”

Janeway hesitated for a moment, then said: “Human.”

“What are the dimensions of the forcefield?”

Janeway squirmed in her chair. “It’s about the size of my . . . pelvis.”

“That is unusually small for a forcefield of the power you describe, Captain. I am unaware of any species with the technological ability to construct such a field.”

“Never mind that!” snapped Janeway. “Suffice to say it exists! Now, what can be done about it?”

“I am unable to answer that question without a thorough examination of the forcefield.”

“Great,” muttered Janeway. She squeezed her thighs together in frustration. ‘Damn that smug, arrogant, obnoxious, overbearing prick!’

“What about allowing someone . . . something to pass through the field?”

“A modification to my Borg implants would achieve the desired result. Also a hologram or other such photonic-based object would have little difficulty in passing through__”

“I’M AWARE THAT A HOLO__” Janeway stopped and took a deep breath. “I know a *hologram* can pass through a forcefield. What I’m talking about is allowing a flesh and blood person to do so.”

“I could inject the individual concerned with modified Borg nanoprobes. The nanoprobes would alter their physiology enabling them to penetrate the field.”

“I don’t think Chakotay would enjoy being assimilated a second time,” muttered Janeway.

“Captain,” said Seven, her ever-limited patience running out. “Where exactly IS this forcefield?”

Janeway bit her lip. There was clearly no way out of this, not if she wanted to get rid of the damn thing.

“It’s around my . . . crotch.”

Seven of Nine raised her ocular implant.

“Your . . . crotch?”

“That’s right.”

“I see.” The Borg tapped her combadge. “Seven of Nine to the Doctor__”

“Computer, belay that! Look Seven, I haven’t gone nuts! I’ve got a Level 20 forcefield around my pelvic region and I need to know how to get rid of it!”

Seven gave the captain a skeptical look. Stretching out a hand, she jabbed a finger in the general direction of Janeway’s groin.

There was a loud PHIZZT! and the Borg’s finger was stopped in place by an invisible barrier.

Janeway put her hands on her hips. “See?”

“May I ask how you acquired this forcefield, Captain?”

Janeway’s face turned red with anger. “Q! He said that if he couldn’t mate with me, then Chako_ . . . then no-one else would be able to either!” Seven’s sex-starved superior leapt to her feet and began pacing her quarters. “The damn thing won’t even allow me to masturbate! I thought Michael Sullivan would be able to solve things, but like an idiot I denied myself access to his personal algorithms, so he’ll only use nineteenth century sexual techniques! Do you realise how boring eighteen months of the missionary position is?”

“I have not attemptepulapulation for that long a time, Captain.”

“I was being rhetorical Seven; don’t be such a smartarse!”

“Let me understand the parameters of the problem. An omnipotent being from the Q Continuum has placed a forcefield around your groin.”

“Yes.”

“A Level 20 fluctuating resonance barrier with no apparent power source.”

“Yes!”

“And you wish me disable it.”

“YES!”

“So you can have intimate relations with Commander Chakotay.”

“YES! . . . NO! I mean . . . that’s none of your business! Can you help me or not?”

The Borg sighed. “I will need to conduct a close inspection of the field. You should cross-index my fifth and sixth nodules in order to convert my implants__”

“Yes yes Seven, I haven’t forgotten.” The captain used a microfilament from her combadge to do so.

“You should also remove your clothes and lie down on your back with your legs spread so that I can gain access to the affected region. I believe,” the Borg added innocently, “that is referred to as ‘the missionary position’.”

Janeway glared at Seven, put her hands on her hips, and yanked down her trousers. Her underwear followed and she lay back on the bed, parting her thighs to expose a lush tangle of reddish-brown pubic hair to the Borg’s intense gaze.

Janeway stared at the ceiling. Seven stared at Janeway’s crotch.

“Seven,” asked Janeway, after several minutes had passed with nothing happening. “What are you doing?”

“I am ‘perving’, Captain. You have encouraged me to emulate human behaviour. I believe perving is the appropriate behaviour in this circumstance.”

“SEVEN!”

“My apologies,” said the Borg, sounding as unapologetic as usual. She pushed her exoskeleton-covered left hand through the field, the penetration causing a not unpleasant tingling throughout Janeway’s pelvis. Further enjoyable sensations followed as Seven’s fingers probed the region between the captain’s legs.

“I am finding it difficult to navigate through all this pubic hair,” said Seven.

“Well how would you like not being able to shave for the past four and a half years?”

“Would you like me to shave your crotch while I am in the area, Captain?”

“Ahh . . . no . . . thank you for offering.”

“Interesting.”

“What, have you found something?”

“No. I was merely observing that your femoral pulse increased by 15% when I made that last suggestion.”

“SEVEN!”

“My apologies, Captain.” The Borg reached behind her and produced a foot-long shaft of black shiny metal, tipped by a transparent, phallus-shaped head. Seven flicked a switch and the device began to pulsate in a highly erotic manner.

Janeway’s eyes widened. “Seven, what is THAT?”

“A hand-held, Mark IV interplexing probe with an inbuilt harmonic resonance scanner. It has been modified with Borg technology so it will be able to pass through the field.”

“Oh yes, of course . . . I knew that.” A sudden thought struck Janeway. “Seven, where did you get that device? You didn’t have it in your hands when you arrived, and I don’t see any pockets on that biosuit.”

“Captain, you must have wondered why I always walk around like I’ve got something stuck up my rear end.”

“Well . . . yes, actually. What about it?”

Seven raised her ocular implant.

Janeway blushed. “I see.”

“Do not be concerned. The probe will be sterilised as it penetrates the forcefield.”

‘I wish she wouldn’t use – THAT - word!’

“So Seven, uhh, how’s Naomi?” asked Janeway, trying not to think about the throbbing tool the Borg was running over the surface of her long-deprived pussy.

“She misses her mother.”

“Well, Voyager’s hull doesn’t stay shiny week after week by itself you know. And . . um . . has Icheb completed that tutorial he was doing on Captain Kirk?”

“Yes Captain, he showed it to me this morning. Are you aware that James Kirk had intimate relations more times than any other Starfleet captain? According to his logs he copulated with over__”

“I don’t want to know!” cried a desperate Janeway. “Tell me how you’re getting on with B’Elanna!”

“I believe our relationship is improving. Lieutenant Torres has expressed the wish to have intimate relations herself.”

“WHAT?”

“During a recent argument Torres roared “Fuck you Borg!” and threw numerous objects at me. I believe that is typical of Klingon courtship rituals.”

‘I wish she wouldn’t use that word either!’ thought Janeway, unable to suppress a moan as something smooth and velvety brushed along the inner lips of her sex.

“Ohhhhhhh that’s good . . . I mean, that’s good work Seven!”

“Mmmm mmm mmm.”

“What are you using, the interplexing probe?”

“Mm-mm.”

“A manifold calibrator?”

“Mm-mm.”

“A quantum flux regulator, Mark III?”

“Mm-mm.” Seven lifted her head slightly. “I am using my tongue.”

Captain Janeway sat bolt upright. She reached down to pull the Borg’s head off her groin, but her hands just bounced off the forcefield. “OWW! Seven! I don’t see how you think you can disrupt a fluctuating resonance forcefield by licking my . . . my . . . ”

“I am attempting to stimulate the flow of vaginal fluids, Captain. I cannot locate the power source of the forcefield – the possibility exists that it is inside your body. Therefore the most efficient means of scanning for it would be to insert the interplexing probe as deep inside you as possible.”

Janeway gulped.

“As lubricant will not pass through the forcefield, I am required to use your body’s own fluids.”

“Ahh, well, uhm . . . carry on then.”

“Thank you Captain. It would help if you desisted from trying to wrap your thighs around my head while I work.” With a single, efficient movement of her hand, Seven inserted the probe into Janeway’s by now well-lubricated pussy.

“OH MY GOD!”

“I have not yet reached that level of perfection.”

“OHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!” moaned Janeway, as Seven relentlessly slid the probe up the full length of her cunt.

“I will now activate the harmonic resonance scanner. This will create a strong vibrating sensation.”

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” The captain thrashed helplessly on the bed as exquisite vibrations rippled throughout her body.

“I will now activate the interplexing beam. The emitter is currently near your clitoris so it may prove rather stimulating.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I will now place my lips on your mammary glands and suck them.”

“OOOOO__wait a minute!” cried Janeway. It was difficult to maintain her command presence with a foot of rigid hardness pulsating between her legs, but she tried. “I know you regard me as your surrogate mother, but sucking on my breasts is carrying the analogy too far!”

“You said you wished to have intimate relations,” said Seven, as she adjusted the frequency of the harmonic pulses.

“OH YES! OH GOD YES!”

“Is that an answer or a response to stimulation?”

“An answer!”

“The forcefield is impossible to remove. Therefore, as Commander Chakotay would not appreciate being turned into more of an expressionless drone than he already is, it would be more efficient if I ‘cut out the middleman’ and stimulate you myself.”

“S-S-Seven,” Janeway stammered, feeling an overwhelming and unstoppable orgasm swelling up within her body. “That-that’s not really a M-M-Mark IV interplexing p-probe, is-s it?”

Seven’s lips curled up in a smirk. Clasping her fingers around the throbbing device, the Borg switched it to maximum setting.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

* * * * * *

VGR PERSCOM NET
FR: CPTN JANEWAY
TO: CMDR CHAKOTAY

‘Dear Chak,’

‘I’m so glad to hear that we’ve finally discovered the location of ‘Friendship One’. Use Lieutenant Carey for the away mission will you? I’m sure he’ll be pleased to get out after all those years cooped up in his room. After all, what could possibly go wrong?’

‘Regarding our little . . . problem. I have discussed the matter with Sev Seven and B’Elanna, and they both agree that the forcefield is too difficult to remove. It’s probably just as well. A relationship between a captain and her first officer could only lead to trouble.’

‘By the way, I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel our usual evening dinners for a while. Seven and I are taking up . . . piano lessons.’


THE END.


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