.Star Trek: Initial Contact | By : keithcompany Category: Star Trek > Star Trek Views: 2346 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: The Original Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: Star Trek, the Enterprise and her Crew, the Federation, are all property of Paramount. This exploration of adult situations with Trek characters is only for entertainment.
the author is not making any kind of profit from this fanfic.
This work is my own. Do not repost this story beyond the limits of the Fair Use standards of Copyright Law (quotes, examples, 'you gotta read this' excerpts, the usual).
I tend to work with size-themed fiction, which includes overwhelming control issues and outrageous differences in scale. Such disparate sizes between partners is not for everyone, so be warned.
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James Kirk raced onto the bridge from the turboshaft. He ordered Uhura to contact the other craft, but of course she had already anticipated him. It was only military courtesy that drove her to wait until after he actually gave the order to report it completed.
"Hailing frequencies open, sir." She turned towards the command chair with a hand on her earbug. Suddenly her chair was gone and she fell to an ignoble landing on her butt. On a hard wood floor, in a large room.
She lay there for a moment, assessing her surroundings. She was in front of some sort of monitor that showed a view of her communications console. It faced a room that resembled an old 20th or 21st century domicile. She'd seen vids but wasn't historically inclined. Sulu could probably have dated the room.
It was sparsely furnished. A table, a chair, a very fake looking bass fish on the wall, the shelf holding the monitor... Suddenly she realized that it was a... a radiovision or something like that. The one jarring detail was the scale. The room was as big as the Enterprise's shuttle bay and the furniture was sized to match.
She sat up slowly and noticed an occupant. A man, scaled and dressed appropriate to the size and time of the room, sat on the floor next to the RV shelf. She slowly stood, never taking her eyes off of him. She estimated that she wouldn't even stand as tall as his knee if they were beside each other. He regarded her with an air of patient waiting.
"Hello," she started. He responded immediately, as if her word had been 'Start!'
"Greetings in the name of initial contact management. I am the communications specialist of the Vareen. You have been chosen for your communications position among the humanity.
"I offer you a straight 10% interest in any benefits realized by this contacting. You may hold them to yourself or submit them to your superiors as is your custom. I..." He paused for the first time. He leaned closer to her. His tone changed from that of a practiced speech to something more personal.
"I must ask... are all your people usually of the same height?"
"No," she answered, shaking her head. "There is a lot of variety in our heights." But not THIS much she thought to herself. He gestured to indicate the two of them.
"Is there usually this much variety?"
"No," again, wondering if he was reading her mind. "No, this is not only unusual variety, it's frankly impossible for our species to be this different." His shoulders sagged.
"I have been lax in verification of my survey agents. I offer you the option of continuing or delaying the initial contacting." He leaned a fraction closer to her and dropped his voice. "It would be to your advantage to continue. You could always suspend negotiations if they go in a suboptimal direction." She shook her head.
"I... I guess I don't understand what is going on here. I'm afraid to make any decision until I do." He seemed to smile slightly as if her answer was the correct one.
"Very well. You have asked for disclosure. Full disclosure is not in our interests, but as long as you have the option to abandon negotiations without penalty, I must comply." She'd swear he winked at her. "The Vareen..." She interrupted briefly and pointed to the chair.
"Could we move to more comfortable seating?" He looked around the room in confusion. "The chair?" He turned back to her. She gestured towards the ground. He lifted her up by cupping her behind in his hand then carried her over to the table and chair. He stopped between the two. She pointed to the table and he set her upon it. She walked to the edge and sat down, legs dangling.
"Take a seat on the chair, um... My name is Uhura. Yours is...?"
His eyes were assessing the chair as he spoke. "I selected the name of 'Fred' for this juncture." He eyed her seat on the edge and copied it to sit on the edge of the cushion. When he was through, he and the Starfleet officer's eyes were at about the same level.
"Very well, Uhura. This is comfortable?" She nodded. "Then to continue. The Vareen are largely an energy-based species. We can assume physical form, and do so to contact alien species that come to our attention. This" and he waved at the room around them, "is a contact module. Survey agents collect information on a species, and a contact specialist, Fred, selects details to construct a the module." He leaned back into his seat. "This was supposed to be about 200 years old, to you. My theory was that it would lend a subtle feeling of superiority to you. Thinking that the Vareen could make a mistake that large. It would have been to our advantage in negotiations."
"Okay, Fred, I appreciate that. But what are we negotiating?"
"Our civilization is based on the exchange of ideas. We value the information exchange between our civilization and yours. We want to ensure it is an equitable trade. Part of what we will do in this and later meetings is establish the measurement of information and the value of exchange.
"As an example, your warp drive technology is of little value to us directly. But other civilizations that cannot afford what you would call trans-warp drive may purchase that. It would be in our interests to get it as cheaply as possible."
"You have trans-warp?" Uhura knew that Starfleet, heck the Federation would give a great deal to get a working trans-warp drive.
"Yes. We have a great deal of technology. We feel that we have a great deal to teach you. On the other hand, you have much that is attractive to us. The concept of satire is new, as is opera. And Vulcan logical schools hold interest for some of my superiors."
"Well, the Federation is always interested in making new contacts with other civilizations." She leaned back to a more comfortable position. She noted that his eyes tracked her legs as she crossed them. She remembered a few alien species that weren't fully prepared to adopt human form. She wondered how faithfully the survey agents copied it as she stuck her chest out. His eyes almost popped out of his skull watching her breasts rise. She smiled slightly, with a much larger virtual grin on the inside.
"Of course, we normally enjoy a less formal exchange of ideas," she continued, stretching her legs out straight, then uncrossing and recrossing them. "We like to encourage a free exchange of information, both technological and social. We'd just HATE to have to pick and choose what to offer you and what to ask for." Like a kid scanning a candy catalog, he didn't know where to look. He followed her legs, her breasts, and the hem of her skirt as it rose slightly up her thighs. She imagined writing up her log with a reference to 'the Kirk maneuver' and leaned forward.
"You know," she said, dropping her voice low, "this table isn't too comfortable. Can I sit on the arm of your chair?" He was helpless before her smile and assisted her in moving to his side. She sat on the cushioned part and stroked a booted foot up and down his thigh. "There. Isn't that better?" He could only nod.
"Now, how would we go about setting up an information exchange more along Federation lines?"
"I would have to, um, convince my superiors." He fidgeted under her attentions. "It has never been done, but perhaps..." Suddenly he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her to his face.
"Question. I spent three days in this body for rehearsals. I never noticed a need to pay attention to a specific body part in all that time. Now," he grabbed at his crotch, "I can think of little else. You must explain."
"I don't know. Do you have discomfort?" While she claimed innocence, she noted that one of his fingers stroked her torso. She twisted a bit to make sure it encountered her breast. He gave a low noise when it did.
"Yes. Discomfort. There is tightness in my body. It interferes with my concentration. I wish it to go away."
She looked down at his fly and detected a truly prodigious swelling. That virtual smile doubled and she asked, innocently, "What would that be worth to you?" He didn't answer right away. Just took several breaths.
"Very wellness. If you relieve the discomfort I will make the supremes of effort to convince the contact committee to adopt your Federation standard of exchange. Call it a test case or something. We will require that you do not offer our information to other civilizations outside of the Federation. Sufficient?"
She pretended to think about it, leaning forward to press her boobs to the fingers gripping her. "I don't know. What will you give me for it if they don't adopt our standard?" He growled at that.
"I have the authority to increase your Federations advantage in negotiations as high as 20%. I offer that and an additional 5% from my personal outlay, if you will successfully relieve my discomfort." She just looked at him and raised a hand to her face. When she began sucking on one finger he added another 5% but would go no higher. Satisfied he was between a rock and a hard-on, she nodded.
"We have a deal. Let me down." He returned her to the chair arm. She lowered herself to his lap. "Okay, you have to open this." She started to advise him on the operation of a zipper when he reached down and tore the pants open. "Oh." It wasn't particularly violent, compared to other extremes she had driven men to, but the scale startled her. "Um, okay then, ease aside this layer of white fabric."
A second later, a large throbbing cock popped up before her. She stroked it gently along the length as she eased down to sit above it. Caught between her thighs, it stretched almost to her chin. She licked the edge of the purple helmet, gently trailing fingernails along the sides. Fred whimpered and sank down deep in the chair. She licked and stroked for a while, squeezing it between her thighs, feeling his ball sac tighten under her calves. She lifted her uniform up and undid her bra. Then she stretched the hem of the skirt over the cock and back down to her thighs.
The durable fabric squeezed the head of what another lover had called 'Little Fred' between her tits, and added pressure to the skin of its length. A few more strokes along the side brought him to his moment. With expert timing she grabbed her collar to make sure the uniform covered the hole. The ejaculate bulged the tight uniform that restrained it, then the advanced material wicked the fluid away. Warmth spread through the skirt around Uhura like a slow hug. She kissed the tip as it shrank out of her uniform, falling down to a sated repose in his lap.
She stood, fastened the bra, adjusted her skirt, and climbed across the chair arm to the table. There the lieutenant turned to the contact specialist. "Feel better?"
It took him three tries to form words. "Oh, you know I do. That was incredible."
"Glad to help. Now about that deal?"
"I will speak to my superiors." He reached down beside the seat cushion and lifted a control device. "But it is time to return you to your vessel."
She still had questions when he pressed 'Return' and she felt herself flying towards the radiovision.
Then she was back at her console. She turned around to find Kirk. "Captain, I have something to report..."
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