Promises, Promises

by
Darrel W. Beach
Mar. 1999

Chapter 4

	Seven's body trembled from several days of sexual frustration.  Her
situation was growing increasingly unmanageable.  She could feel her
composure and discipline buckle more and more with each surge of estrogens.
Something had to be done to resolve her predicament, and fast.  So far the
Doctor's assurances that her condition would sort itself out seemed
completely unfounded.  Hopefully Lt. Paris' tutorial on the holodeck would
be more effective.
	One last turn brought her to her terminus.  Tom was waiting for
her, exuding his normal laissez-faire attitude.  Seven slowed her rapid
pace and stopped in front of the lieutenant.  "Good evening, Seven.  I hope
you're ready."
	"I am prepared."  She quickly analysed Tom's posture and adrenaline
levels, then looked at him in puzzlement.  "Your emotional state is quite
different since our last meeting."
	"Well, I got to thinking last night.  Why should I be so worried
about what Harry or B'Elanna think?  I'm helping out two of my friends get
closer together, that's all.  How is that bad?"
	"I concur.  Your concerns were irrelevant.  There is no reason for
Ensign Kim or Lieutenant Torres to be concerned about your motives.  You
are here at my request in a professional capacity."
	"Absolutely.  How can they argue with that explanation?"  Tom keyed
in his access code and the holodeck doors slid open.  "Let the teaching
begin."  He offered Seven an arm with which to escort her into the
simulation.  She gave it a dismissive look and walked through the entrance.
Tom shook his head but smiled at her lack of etiquette.
	Tom's selected program resembled the interior of some type of
cottage.  The walls were constructed from irregularly shaped slabs of rock
and sealed with mortar.  The floors, planks of dense wood, were piled with
thick carpeted rugs and mismatched items of furniture.  A cobbled fireplace
warmed the room with a small fire.  Seven suppressed a shudder at the
numerous visible imperfections.  The place had a familiar feeling to it,
though she had never seen this place before.
	"Go sit down on the couch and make yourself comfortable, Seven, and
I'll get us something to drink to help set the mood."
	She did as instructed, although she would have been far more
comfortable standing.  The act of sitting had yet to feel natural for her.
The heat of the fire was more noticeable now, with the hearth being only
2.2 meters away.  For some inexplicable reason its close proximity felt
comforting, and she could sense herself slipping into a relaxed state.
	"A little wine to get the home fires burning," Tom remarked,
handing her a glass.  He sat down next to her and draped an arm across the
headrest behind her.
	"This is an inefficient use of time, Lieutenant.  If you are going
to instruct me on romance and social intimacy, please begin."
	"You prefer the direct approach, huh?  Okay.  The first and most
important step in initiating any romantic encounter is kissing.  It's a
complex art, really."
	"Kissing is merely the act of two people pressing their lips
together signifying an expression of affection.  How is that complicated?"
	"A kiss can be used to communicate many different kinds of messages
and moods, depending on the intent of the kisser.  It can convey
friendship, comfort, gratitude, affection, desire, even lust.  Here, I'll
show you.  Just relax and let me guide you."  Tom leaned closer to Seven
and cupped the back of her head.  She offered no resistance as he gently
drew her mouth to his.  The contact was at first slight, his lips lightly
brushing against hers.  He then applied more pressure, compelling her to
reciprocate.  An inner fire stirred to life within her as he softly sucked
and teased her lips.  An uncountable number of moments later he broke
contact, albeit reluctantly.  "See?  Not as simple as you thought, was it?"
	Seven looked a little bewildered.  Her heart rate and respiration
had increased slightly in reaction to this tactile contact.  The
capillaries in her skin dilated causing a momentary temperature increase of
her epidermis, then counteracted by the stimulation of her sweat glands. 
"I did not anticipate that a kiss could elicit such a strong physical
response.  I assume that was intended to convey lust?"
	The lieutenant grinned lasciviously.  "You catch on quick."
	"I know how to adapt."  Seven inched her way toward the lieutenant.
"However, I do so more efficiently when given an increased number of
samples from which to establish proper base lines."
	The movement did not escape him.  He smiled fiercely, the thought
of turning Seven into a sexual conquest giving his ego a major boost.
"Well, we could try it again, see if the same thing happens."
	"That is acceptable," she replied, moving in.  She immediately
initiated another kiss with a passion that surprised the lieutenant.  It
took a couple of seconds before he caught himself up in it.  Hearts
pounded, breathing synchronised, hands groped.  Seven shifted her weight,
pushed Tom onto his back and continued her tactile exploration.  The
tension in Tom's muscles as she worked over his shoulders and chest sent
her an irrational thrill, while her cybernetic implants registered the
significant biothermal increases in both their bodies.  Seven recognised
the early sign of sexual priming from her review of the Doctor's medical
texts and knew what to expect next.
	Without breaking concentration on osculating Tom, Seven noticed the
other succeeding symptoms: shortness of breath, pupil dilation, vascular
stimulation, and swelling of the sexual organs.  She sat up, eager to
collect a fresh supply of oxygen to her blood.  The extra tightness of her
unitard stretched across her hardened nipples added to her peaking arousal.
"I believe now would be a good time to proceed to the next lesson, would it
not?"
	Tom stared at her with glazed eyes.  He mumbled an incoherent
reply, but managed to convey enough of an answer by nodding his head.
	With cat-like dexterity Seven removed her clothing, quite to Tom's
fascination.  He moaned in painful ecstasy at the sight of Seven in her
naked splendour, her skin erotically vibrant.  The lieutenant fumbled in
his haste to remove his own uniform, unable to tear his eyes away from the
vision of perfection standing in front of him.
	"You should...you, uh...find a place to lie down, Seven.  I
know...you're probably not used to that, but...it makes it easier to,
uh...."
	"It facilitates the act of copulation, you mean?" she interpreted,
her voice husky.
	Tom's shirt finally came off.  "Uh, right.  Just...lie down there,
in front of the fire.  You should be comfortable there."
	Seven looked at the buckskin rug.  Since she had never engaged in
intercourse before, she couldn't say whether or not comfort would be a
relevant condition.  "I will comply, Lieutenant."
	"Please, Seven, don't address me by rank.  This is supposed to be a
very personal experience.  Use my name."  By now Tom's boots and trousers
had disappeared.
	Seven stepped over to the buckskin and stopped, contemplating what
mechanics were involved in lying down.  "Here, let me help," Tom said, clad
only in shorts.  He cradled her body and carefully eased her down onto the
floor.  The pelt rug was amazingly thick and soft.  Seven whimpered as the
fur tickled against her bare skin.  She could now feel the heat of the fire
penetrating her, sweat beading all over the surface of her body.  Her mind
swirled.  She had not been prepared for any of these reactions.  They were
so completely foreign to her existence, yet they felt natural, appropriate.
	Seven gasped in shock as Tom began to caress her.  She thought for
sure that her receptors would fail from stimulus overload.  He traced
delicate patterns with his index fingers, languishing when he reached her
breasts.  He smiled when Seven strained in choking breaths for more air as
he teased her erect nipples.  Satisfied, he slid his hands down her flat
stomach, her waist, her hips.
	Something exploded inside of Seven and she trembled.  She tried to
detach her conscious from Tom's ministrations for a moment to identify it,
found it difficult.  Suddenly a part of her realised that she was
experiencing emotion.  Emotion, a part of her long suppressed as a result
of assimilation, a part she thought she would never need or miss until
Captain Janeway had bestowed individuality upon her once more.  A part that
was now given the freedom to reassert itself and, as the Doctor had once
remarked, 'was doing so with a vengeance'.  Seven could see the tidal wave
of pleasure and lust descend upon her as something tangible.  It swept over
her, pulled her away from rational thought and threatened to plunge her
into an inescapable fathom of base human instinct.  For a brief instant she
panicked, realising that she was powerless to deter the onslaught of
intense emotions, then she relaxed and allowed it to guide her.  It seemed
so perfectly acceptable, as though it was meant to happen.
	She looked at Tom lustfully, every trace of her dispassionate,
analytical mind consumed by animalistic desire.  Her body ached with the
need for fulfilment.  "I must...have you...now."
	Tom was only happy to oblige.  He slowly pulled down his shorts to
his ankles, exposing his throbbing erect penis.  He stood there for a
pause, content to orchestrate the few final moments at the tempo of his own
heartbeat.  Seven looked at it wantonly, almost transfixed.  The sight
instantly triggered the production of her vaginal juices, anticipating
penetration.
	"Please," she panted.
	Tom smiled.  He had triumphed.  She could not resist.  He knelt
down over her, straddling her hips between his legs.  He pressed his member
against her belly and planted another sensuous kiss against her inflamed
lips.  She relished his taste for a lingering moment, then he slid down and
thrust himself into her.

	Seven startled awake, her heart racing, a thin sheet of
perspiration coating her face.  It had happened again.
	"Regeneration cycle incomplete," the computer needlessly pointed
out.  Seven did not need to be reminded.  This was the fourth time already
a nightmare had disrupted her sleep cycle.  By far the most vivid,
realistic one yet.  Regulating her heart rate and breathing, Seven cursed
her body.  Now it somehow had the ability to stimulate the neurochemicals
in her brain and manipulate the data she had assimilated into these
sickening fantasies.  The situation was steadily growing out of her
control.  Was there any limit to the depths of depravity she was sinking
in?
	Her olfactory system detected a mixture of musk and pheromones.
With a measure of disgust Seven looked down to discover a patch of moisture
soiling the crotch of her suit.  She sighed irritably.  Another suffusion
and change of clothing would be required.