DISCLAIMER: Jungian consciousness yes. Fiscal ownership no. Storytelling tradition yes. Television rights no.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Phone Sex
By Katrina
B'Elanna Torres, the spicy half-Klingon Chief Engineer of Voyager, could not believe that she was, once again stuck in a turbolift. The language she used upon the realization was not fit for anyone's ears. So it was good that she was alone in the lift.
Fortunately, she did have some tools with her. So she pulled out the ever handy spanner and prepared to do her own kind of fix to get things moving again.
There was a chime on her combadge. "Lieutenant Torres here."
"Lieutenant Torres, please state your location."
B'Elanna let out a low level growl. Then she tapped her combadge and managed a relatively pleasant "Seven of Nine, I am currently located in Turbolift 3. Is there something you need from me? I already upped your power allocation per your request."
"Lieutenant Torres, the power allocation was sufficient."
"Seven, please get to the point?"
"Are you alone, Lieutenant Torres?"
B'Elanna felt a moment of puzzlement. That question sounded stiff, even for the ex-drone. She went ahead and answered even as she was torquing the first bolt of the panel off. "Yes, Seven, I'm alone. No one is in the Turbolift with me. Why?"
"What are you wearing?"
B'Elanna put one hand on her hip and the other, the one with the spanner dropped to her side. Now that the combadge line was established she didn't have to keep tapping the badge. She and the cool blonde bombshell Borg could hold a could now hold a conversation. She shook her head and said, "I'm wearing my uniform, Seven. Our appointment for the holodeck isn't until ... oh geez, what time is it?"
"It is fourteen hundred hours and thirteen minutes. Our appointment is at seventeen hundred," Seven offered helpfully.
"Right. So obviously I am in my uniform."
There was a pause. Then Seven said, as if she were reading from a PADD, "What are you wearing under your uniform?"
"My underwear. Seven, what's going on?"
Again in that bad acting way, "Oh, Lieutenant Torres, tell me more. What kind of ..."
"Wait. Stop." Suddenly B'Elanna was getting a better picture of what was going on. She couldn't help the snicker that came out. "Tom put you up to this, didn't he?"
Seven of Nine wasn't yet at the point of dissembling well. "Put me up to what?"
"You've got a PADD in front of you. With some sort of script. Don't you?"
There was another pause. And B'Elanna knew Seven was caught, since Borg found lies inefficient. "Yes."
"Well, knowing you, you wouldn't do something like this unless you were trying to accomplish something. What is it?"
"I was trying to engage in something called, 'Phone Sex.' Tom mentioned it while talking about 20th century pastimes. I thought it might be something that could be adapted and you would enjoy. He gave me a script and I thought I would see if you were available this afternoon. We are on a secure channel. We are both in private locations."
"Wait. We are?" Now B'Elanna was intrigued.
"Yes, Lieutenant Torres."
"Sweetheart, I realize we're both technically on work hours. But this would be an informal conversation we're having. So now would be appropriate to call me B'Elanna."
"Ah. That was not in the script. There were blanks."
"I figured as much. Tell you what? Where are you located?"
"I am in our quarters. You may recall that you reminded to use it when I needed privacy."
"You're in our quarters." B'Elanna closed her eyes and suddenly wondered, "What are you wearing Seven?"
"I am currently without garb."
"You're naked."
"Yes."
This time B'Elanna's growl had a whole different vibration. "Where are you in the quarters?"
"I thought it would be most efficient to be on the bed. Tom said many used a couch, but did not specifically disallow the bed. Although, if you prefer I can..."
"Wait. Stop. Don't you dare move from that bed yet."
"As you wish."
"Now, tell me," B'Elanna licked her lips, "Are you laying down or sitting."
"I am currently sitting, B'Elanna."
"Right. Seven, I want you to recline on the bed, can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Okay, now, I'm stuck in the turbolift and I have to fix it before I can get to you. But I want you to start touching yourself and telling me what you're doing. It will... inspire me to be quick, you understand?"
"This is not what the script said to do."
"Screw the script! Toss that PADD away right now."
There was a pause. "I am sorry B'Elanna. I just dented the wall. I will pick up the pieces..."
"Stop. Don't get off that bed!"
"I... will do as you say."
Something about the way Seven said that turned B'Elanna on. She smiled ferally. "Good. Now, what did I tell you to do before tossing the PADD."
"You said to touch myself."
"Are you?"
"I... am now."
B'Elanna lifted her spanner. "Where are you touching yourself, Seven. Tell me." She began to work on the panel with a hurry.
"I have placed my hands upon my stomach."
"Are you moving your hands?"
"Why should I move my hands?"
"Honey, the point of phone sex is ... stimulation." B'Elanna got the second bolt off. She was hoping to get off herself very soon. "Look, imagine that your hands are mine. Now... what would my hands be doing to you, if I were there and you were naked."
"Ah. I understand now. I am ... exciting my nipples."
"Tell me what you're thinking while you touch yourself."
"I am thinking of the way your mouth feels on my nipples. I am thinking of how wet your tongue is, and the suction..." There was a pause. "... B'Elanna, this is much better than the script."
"I agree. Tell me more." B'Elanna now had the whole panel off. She spotted the problem right away. The wiring was eventually going to have to be replaced, but not today. Today it was going to be the work around. Again.
"I am sliding one hand down my belly, thinking of your body on top of mine and the way you touch me there. I am thinking of the way you like to touch me everywhere at first. I am tracing my implant...," there was a shiveringly erotic gasp of pleasure. "Oh, B'Elanna, you always touch me so wonderfully. You are... hurrying yes?"
"You have no idea. Keep talking." Her fingers were working fast and furiously on that fix.
"I am wet, B'Elanna. Thinking of you has made me moist. My nipples are so hard, I only have to brush them softly and they ... feel so good. My legs are spread and I am touching the places that you like so well. Right now you would be telling me how sweet I taste. I am tracing the pattern you made the fifteenth time we made love."
"Fifteenth?" The panel was back on the lift wall.
"You said that my orgasmic cries were like that of an angel. I disagreed, then you proved it by..."
"Oh. I remember. Yes, number fifteen. That's me, right there."
"Yes,.... oh yes..." Seven's voice was getting more panting, whispery...
B'Elanna wasn't sure what she wanted more. Did she want to hear her lover go over the edge, or did she want to be there... she wanted both. "Keep talking to me Seven. Tell me how it feels."
So Seven of Nine did requested in that wonderfully efficient way of hers, as B'Elanna raced to fix the turbolift one more time. Seven started sounding more and more passionate, and B'Elanna suddenly recognized a certain tone in her voice. Fortunately, she was almost finished. She began putting the panel back on. "How close are you, Seven?"
"I am...very close. Your touch is so good. I love the way you fill me. I wish... I wish you were here."
"Your wish is my command. Hold on Seven. Wait for me, but don't stop touching yourself. Can you do that?"
"I will... I will try..."
"Torres Out."
Then she gave the order to the Turbolift, hoping with everything she had that she'd managed the fix. Though she still couldn't find that darn bolt. Oh well, she'd find it next time. And the panel wasn't going to fly off with the way she tightened things.
The lift started and she cheered.
Far too long later, though really it was less that thirty seconds, B'Elanna was delivered to her floor and dashing down the corridor like there was a fire. People got out of her way, because there might be.
B'Elanna raced into her quarters and then into the bedroom. There she spotted Seven of Nine. The younger woman looked like a goddess, with her hair spilled out like liquid gold on the pillows and her legs spread wide. She was still touching herself, writhing and moaning in pleasure. She was most definitely ready and wet and the sight fairly took B'Elanna's breath away.
Seven opened her eyes, stared right at B'Elanna. She was beautiful to behold and B'Elanna was soon by her side. B'Elanna laid her hand over the one Seven was using to caress that point of pleasure, joining it. She could tell by smell and vision just how close the blonde was. B'Elanna let her hand slide over Seven's. "Don't stop. Keep touching. I just... want to feel you." She pressed in, searching for that spot she knew Seven had. She found the tiny implant by touch and caressed it with her finger tips until Seven was making short gasps of need. When she knew there was going to be no stopping Seven once she started toppling, B'Elanna purred in a voice so low only Seven could hear her, "You can let go now, Seven, I want to hear you. I need to hear you. Cum for me, my sweet Borg."
Seven arched out, pulsing hard around B'Elanna's intimate touch. The blonde cried out as pure pleasure soared through her. "Oh yes, Seven. That's... it." B'Elanna realized for the umpteenth time that she loved the way Seven peaked. She honestly did.
Afterwards, B'Elanna reclined against the headboard and held Seven of Nine tucked against her. She could definitely see the spot on the wall where the PADD had impacted. It made her grin. "Remind me to clean that up later. Do you still want to go to the holodeck?"
Seven said sleepily, "I will. I would like to make love instead. I find I am... still very excited. It was a good failed experiment. I am glad you made me get rid the script Tom gave me."
"Oh, sweetheart, so am I. So am I." B'Elanna then called into Engineering, told someone to replace the missing bolt on the panel in Turbolift 3, and took a well earned half day off.
The End