Hardcore Entertainment presents Seven Does Voyager

BY : Odon
Category: Star Trek > Voyager
Dragon prints: 16136
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: Hardcore Entertainment presents 'Seven Does Voyager'

Author: Odon

Fandom: Star Trek Voyager

Pairing: Everyone/Everyone

Summary: What would a porn version of Voyager be like? Well, ohyjo issued a challenge to turn a movie into an f/f story, so I decided to use "Seven Does Voyager (Part IV)" . . . or was it Part III? No, I think it was "Sex Trek: The Next Penetration", or maybe "Lesbian Space Sluts in Zero G". Or perhaps "Debbie Dax Does Deep Throat Nine"? "Trill Tramps Who Crave Big Klingon Cocks"? "Anal Astronauts on Some Kind of Sex Tour"? "Bar Trek II: The Ravishing of Khunt"? "Starfleet Academy Co-eds V"? "Busty Borg Bimbos"? "Bolian Bonkfest: Blue on Green"? Ah well, these porn movies are all pretty much the same anyway.

Rated: NC-17 and is definitely D.R.A.W (Do Not Read At Work). Contains explicit homosexual and heterosexual sex scenes. Do not read any further if this offends you.

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

Send feedback to odon05@hotmail.com. Archiving is welcome, but please try and contact me first. Many thanks to Meagan for her beta work and unique contributions (despite her better instincts).
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HARDCORE ENTERTAINMENT PRESENTS 'SEVEN DOES VOYAGER'

The camera follows the swaying ass of SEXY OF NINE with all the dedication of a bum-sniffing Doberman as the Borg strides the corridors of the USS Voyorgy (registration NC-17). Sexy of Nine represents the pinnacle of artificially-enhanced perfection with her bleached blonde hair, impractical high heels, more makeup than a 23rd century Klingon, and big tits with cybernetic implants that apparently leave them impervious to the ships' microgravity environment, as they fail to bounce when she walks.

Or it could be that Sexy of Nine, inspired by the historic example of Sub-Commander T'Pol, has got herself a boob job.

As this cyberbimbo passes the gaping orifice of a Jeffries tube she hears a loud moan. With all the talent of an incredibly bad actress whose employment depends solely on her physical attributes and willingness to screw on camera, Sexy of Nine stops, adopts a surprised expression, and bends down to look inside, her bodysuit pulling tight into every crack and crevice of her voluptuous form.

CUT to: Lieutenants TOM PENIS and BALLBUSTER TORRES, who are fucking frantically to the pulsating beat of bad synthesizer music. The camera repeatedly cuts to lengthy close-ups of Tom's cock pumping in and out of Ballbuster's hot wet pussy.

BALLBUSTER TORRES: Oh yes, that's it honey! Fuck me! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!

TOM PENIS: Oh yes, that's it baby! Take my big cock! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!

Sexy of Nine, despite the fact that she's in a public place, unzips her skintight bodysuit, slips a hand between her legs and begins to masturbate, whilst spanking herself with a PADD held in the other hand.

SEXY OF NINE: Oh yes, that's it! Have intimate relations with that Klingon bitch! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!

TOM PENIS: Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah!

BALLBUSTER: Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah!

SEXY OF NINE: Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah!

TOM PENIS: Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh yeah!

BALLBUSTER: Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh yeah!

SEXY OF NINE: Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh yeah!

In a miracle that can only be explained by the wonders of 24th century bio-technology, all three come to an incredibly loud and simultaneous orgasm, despite the fact that Tom pulls out at the last minute in order to ejaculate all over his lover's face. Through some kind of mysterious osmotic process this triggers Ballbuster's own climax. The half-Klingon hottie moans in ecstasy as she receives his load like a cranial ridge cream.

BALLBUSTER: Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh God, Tom!

TOM PENIS: Oh-Oh-Oh-Oh God, Sexy of Nine!

BALLBUSTER: WHAT?! You're calling HER name when you come? YOU PETAQ!

In fury, Ballbuster sinks her teeth into Tom's ballocks.

TOM PENIS: AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH! NO, I MEANT THAT BORG BITCH IS WATCHING US!

Ballbuster turns and sees the Borg bitch watching them.

BALLBUSTER: Enjoying the view?

SEXY OF NINE: I have been perving . . . I mean observing you. It is part of my research into human mating behaviour.

BALLBUSTER: You've been masturbating over us all night! In fact, you were masturbating yesterday when we were fucking on that console in Engineering, and the day before when I was screwing Tom outside the shuttle bay!

SEXY OF NINE: There is no-one on Deck Nine, Section Twelve who does not masturbate when you two are having intimate relations, as you are the only people on this vessel who ever seem to have sex.

BALLBUSTER: I want all the data you've collected!

SEXY OF NINE: That is impossible. I have collected 30,000 gigaquads of data on this subject, all of which has been downloaded onto the InterstellarNet in order to stunt the growth of potential enemies of this vessel. According to my calculations your intimate relations have been witnessed by 1,470,030,308,890,000,000,000 masturbating alien species thus far.

The Borg studies Ballbuster's small, natural breasts and raven thatch of pubic hair with a critical eye.

SEXY OF NINE: I see you prefer the 70's look. It is inefficient. My artificially-enhanced tits and shaven pussy are much more attuned to the fantasies of the modern masturbating male.

BALLBUSTER: You synthetic slut, I'll show you who's the better bimbo! Cumputer, beam Sexy of Nine and myself into an enormous vat of jelly on Holodeck Two!

CUT to: AN ENORMOUS VAT OF JELLY ON HOLODECK TWO.

Tom watches with aesthetic appreciation as the two women struggle for sticky supremacy. He is not the only observer though. In Voyorgy's RANDY ROOM their noble leader CAPTAIN ANALWAY is watching the action on an enormous viewscreen. The captain's regulation trousers are down around her ankles and she is masturbating like crazy (a practice that would explain her rather stunted growth).

ANALWAY: Oh yes, that's it Sexy! Give it to that Klingon bitch! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah!

The viewscreen shows lengthy repetitious close-ups of Sexy's fingers pumping in and out of Ballbuster's hot wet cunt. Sexy is naked except for a pair of high heels. Ballbuster wields a pink dildo so large it protrudes into parallel dimensions.

This erotic image is suddenly replaced by the scowling face of THE DICKTOR, a cranky hologram whose bald head makes him look like a talking vibrator.

ANALWAY: AAAAAARRRGH!! What the hell do you want?!

DICKTOR: Captain Analway, I must speak to you on a matter crucial to the future of this ship! Need I remind you that it has been seven years since the USS Voyorgy was stranded in the Dildo Quadrant, and you still haven't addressed the all-important subject of reproduction?

ANALWAY: Reproduction? You mean . . . er . . . sex?

DICKTOR: Yes, sex. Sex! SSSSEEEEEEEEEEEEX! The entire crew needs to have lots and lots of sex!

ANALWAY: Dicktor, you know perfectly well that's contrary to regulations. Sex on Suxfleet vessels has been banned since the Trip/T'Pol Neuropressure Scandal of 2153 damaged Human/Vulcan relations for over a hundred years.

DICKTOR: That didn't stop Captain Kirk from shagging everything in sight!

ANALWAY: Yes, and look at the results! We're 70,000 light years from Earth, yet every week we run into human-looking aliens!

DICKTOR: Well, it's going to take us seventy-five years to get back to the Anal Quadrant, so unless you want this vessel crewed by a load of geriatric old farts, I suggest that everyone start having babies.

ANALWAY: Very well. I hereby authorise the crew to have sex. Happy now? I, of course, as a Suxfleet captain, will refrain from indulging my baser instincts.

DICKTOR: Captain, I must stress that a healthy sex life would work wonders in treating your caffeine addiction and multiple personality disorder__

ANALWAY: Viewscreen off!

The screen blinks out.

ANALWAY: Cumputer, get back the Perve-Cam view of Holodeck Two . . . on second thoughts, belay that. That's not going to help at all. I need something that's less stimulating than a cup of decaf during the Dicktor's opera recital. Cumputer, put on a nice boring documentary.

DAVID ATTENBOROUGH THE XIV appears on the viewscreen holding a round furry animal. He speaks with an archaic English accent and more pauses than James T. Kirk.

ATTENBOROUGH: This . . . rather likable creature . . . is a tribble. While . . . undoubtedly appealing to humans . . . it nevertheless represents a major . . .

Attenborough pauses in confusion, as he's inexplicably holding two tribbles.

ATTENBOROUGH: Err . . . a major . . . ecological hazard. For the tribble . . . reproduces faster . . .

Four tribbles are jostling for position on his hands.

ATTENBOROUGH: Ahh faster than . . . than any other species . . .

Attenborough's hands are a blur of motion, as he frantically juggles half a dozen tribbles in a vain effort to stop them breeding.

ATTENBOROUGH: In existence! In short . . . they spend their entire lives . . . either eating or . . . or . . . AAARRRRGH!

By now Attenborough is buried under a huge mountain of tribbles.

ATTENBOROUGH (muffled): Or having sex!

ANALWAY: Cumputer, change the channel!

Attenborough is replaced by an incredibly attractive humanoid with a bald head.

BALD ATTRACTIVE HUMANOID: This week I will be taking you on an intimate tour of my home planet, Delta IV. As you are undoubtedly aware, Deltan culture is based entirely on sexual intercourse__

ANALWAY: Change channel!

ANNOUNCER: And now Hardcore Entertainment presents . . . the Amorous Adventures of Captain Kirk!

CAPTAIN KIRK is shown demonstrating on YEOMAN RANDY the value of the Suxfleet miniskirt in allowing emergency rear access.

KIRK (voiceover): Sex, the final frontier. These are the orgies of the starship Enterthighs. Its five . . . sorry, three year mission . . . to explore strange new girls . . . to seek out men's wives in compromising situations . . . to boldly go where no man has fucked a whore!

ANALWAY: AAAAAARRRGH!! Viewscreen off!

Analway leaps to her feet and tries pacing the floor, only to fall flat on her face as she has forgotten to pull up her trousers.

ANALWAY: This is ridiculous. Suxfleet Command can't expect me to get on without getting off.

An evil grin forms on the captain's face. She taps her combadge.

ANALWAY: Commander Cumtoday, report to my randy room immediately. I'm in the mood for something stiff . . . like your face . . . between my legs. Hello? Hello?

CUMPUTER: Commander Cumtoday is not responding.

ANALWAY: What's his location?

CUMPUTER: Holodeck Two.

ANALWAY: What? Why would Cumtoday prefer wanking over an all-girl jelly-wrestling contest when he could be shooting cum over my face instead? On screen.

The viewscreen reveals that Ballbuster Torres, Tom Penis and the enormous vat of jelly have all disappeared. Instead Sexy of Nine (naked except for a pair of high heels) is running her fingers over the face of COMMANDER CUMTODAY.

SEXY OF NINE: You have an intriguing facial structure.

The Borg lowers her hands to the commander's waist.

SEXY OF NINE: Your penis is also very wooden.

Sexy drops to her knees and starts to deep throat Cumtoday in a very efficient manner. His face is impassive with ecstasy.

ANALWAY: AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH! That's impossible! I've seen more sexual tension in a Vulcan monastery than there is between those two! It's something only a ratings-mad TV scriptwriter with the continuity sense of a revisionist historian would portray! What kind of stupid woman would want to screw that stone-faced git anyway? I mean er, well . . . ah, bugger him! There must be *someone* horny and off-duty available. Cumputer, patch me through to the mess hall.

The viewscreen is filled with the fur-lined face of the Talaxian cook, BOOTLIX.

ANALWAY: Oh God, I wasn't planning on screwing *him*. Bestiality has been banned in Suxfleet since the Archer/Porthos Decontamination Scandal of 2152.

BOOTLIX: Captain, I was just about to call you! It's Mr Vulcan and Mr Vulcan!

ANALWAY: Who?

BOOTLIX: I mean, Lieutenant Commander Toufock and Ensign Vorprick. They appear to be trying some kind of . . . meld!

Bootlix moves out of the way to reveal a naked VORPRICK bending over the serving counter, while Security Chief TOUFOCK slides his rampant erection between the ensign's tight buttocks. They screw with all the enthusiasm of Klingon representatives to the Federation Tribble Conservation Committee.

TOUFOCK: Uh.

VORPRICK: Uh.

TOUFOCK: Oh.

VORPRICK: Oh.

TOUFOCK: Oh yeah.

VORPRICK: Oh yeah.

ANALWAY (unconsciously stroking herself between her legs): My God, is it porn farr already? Don't they know that homosexuality was banned in Suxfleet after the Tucker/Reed Shuttlepod Scandal of 2151?

BOOTLIX: Er . . . actually captain . . .

ANALWAY: What?

BOOTLIX: They said they're obeying your orders.

ANALWAY: WHAT?

BOOTLIX: You just said that.

ANALWAY: Said what?

BOOTLIX: What.

ANALWAY: What did I just say?

BOOTLIX: You said 'what'.

ANALWAY: What?

BOOTLIX: Yes, what.

Analway feels a throbbing in her head that she has not experienced since she let her hair down from its tight bun.

ANALWAY: No, I meant what . . . ARGH! *What order?*

BOOTLIX: The Dicktor made a public announcement saying you wanted everyone to start having sex.

ANALWAY: A public announce . . . OH MY GOD! Cumputer, activate all Perve-Cams!

We see a montage of shots from throughout the ship. Everywhere - in turbolifts, in Jeffries tubes, in shuttles and photon torpedo launchers, on Bridge consoles and Sickbay beds and by the throbbing phallic heights of the pulsating warp core - the crew are fucking like they haven't had sex in seven years. Raven-haired Bajoran Maquis are rubbing their crinkled noses along the steaming slits of beautiful Suxfleet blondes. Tall handsome analysts are servicing the needs of muscle-bound security officers. A daisy chain of thirty female ensigns stretches from Main Engineering to Deflector Control, supervised by an equal number of masturbating male crewmen.

ANALWAY: Analway to everybody! Stop what you're doing, that's an order! Stop! STOP!!!

CREW OF VOYORGY: Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Oh yeah! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!

ANALWAY: Who's at the helm? Stop fucking on that console you idiots, you'll send us into Warp Ten (there's no way I'm screwing as a salamander again!) Ensign Tabor, that is not an appropriate use of a duotronic probe! Crewman Telfer, don't you know that intimate relations with a Bolian can lead to radical hair loss? Cumtoday! Toufock! Sexy of Nine! Someone, answer me!

The viewscreen shifts to a shot of ENSIGN KUM (naked except for a pair of high heels) in a foursome with Megan Delaney, Jenny Delaney, Tal Celes, and a ten litre bottle of Risan massage oil.

ENSIGN KUM: OH MY GOD, I'VE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN!

ANALWAY: Harry you idiot, what if we're attacked now? We'd be completely defenseless!

ENSIGN KUM: It's okay c-c-captain, I've uhhh reprogrammed . . . ohhhh that's great Jenny, sorry I mean Megan . . . reprogrammed the P-P-P-Perve-Cams! t-t-to umh to broadcast this . . . this live over the ohhhhh InterstellarNet - shit Tal, is *this* how you convinced the Academy to give you a passing grade? - so uhhh every hostile alien . . . oh GOD that's so good! . . . f-f-for a h-hundred light years is uh t-too uhh busy j-jerking off to uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-attack us!

But Analway discovers otherwise as her randy room doors burst open and a hideous creature slithers inside. A tall, wrinkled tower of blue-veined pink, capped by a fleshy helmet with a single slit of an eye dripping milky-white fluid, rolling along on two great hairy orbs.

ANALWAY (preparing to beat it off): AAAARRRRRRGGGGH!!!

The Dicktor sticks his head around from behind the creature, glaring in fury.

DICKTOR: You carbon-based cock-ups can't do anything right, can you? Do you realise what's happening throughout this ship? Men are fucking men, women are screwing women, men are jerking off watching female engineers abuse themselves with hyperspanners - how are they supposed to create the Next Generation *that* way? Even where someone *is* screwing a member of the opposite sex, the man always pulls out at the last minute and ejaculates on her face! Well as usual it's up to us Artificial Intelligences to fix things. Captain Analway, meet my A.S.S.

ANALWAY: Your A.S.S? It looks more like a ginormous P.R.I.C.K to me!

DICKTOR: This is my Additional Sexual Subroutine, which I've modified for just this contingency. I call it a Weapon of Mass Conception. There's enough artificial semen stored in these balls to impregnate every woman on board this ship - starting with you, Captain!

ANALWAY: Well, you can go fuck yourself! There's no way I'm being A.I'ed by an A.I.

DICKTOR: That's what you think! Cumputer, activate the Spermatic Cannon!

CUT to: TURBOLIFT B-7

Ballbuster Torres and Sexy of Nine are naked in the turbolift, French-kissing passionately. The camera lingers on their hands as they slide over firm buttocks and succulent breasts. Abruptly, the Borg breaks free and consults her PADD.

SEXY OF NINE: Next stage - State your affection and clear the nearest console.

BALLBUSTER: You know Sexy, I reckon it's a lot better doing it with a woman. I mean, every time Tom and I are about to reach orgasm he stops, pulls out his dick, and cums all over my face!

A faint *crump* is heard as the turbolift comes to a halt.

BALLBUSTER: What the hell was that?

The doors slide apart to reveal a huge tsunami of semen sweeping across the Bridge towards them. Surfing its crest on her randy room table is none other than Captain Analway herself.

ANALWAY: SWIM FOR IT!!!


THE END.



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