Take Your Place

You want to run, but where would you go? From what you've seen, the whole ship has gone crazy. It's like you're in some sort of twisted alternate reality. You're going to have to figure out how to get back to where you belong, and the best way to do that is to play along and not draw too much attention to yourself, at least for now. Shrugging your shoulders, you begin to undress. when you get down to your underwear, you feel something hard and metallic underneath it. What the fuck? Pulling down your underwear, you find that you're wearing a cock cage just like your roommate. In fact, you now see that all of the men in the room are wearing similar chastity devices. What kind of sick, sadistic universe is this, you think to yourself.

"What's wrong with you? Hurry up!" your roommate whispers urgently. Looking over to the side, you see a set of shelves with small name plaques and neatly folded uniforms resting over each one except for one which has a chain-link collar resting on it identical to the ones the other men are wearing. Looking more closely, you see your name on that shelf. With a deep breath to calm yourself, you fold your uniform and place it on the shelf and fasten the collar around your neck. Then you take your place on the cushion and kneel, copying the same submissive pose everyone else is assuming to the best of your ability while trying not to think about how fucked up this all is.

The doors open with a whoosh. Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting, the light from the corridor is almost blinding. You can see three feminine silhouettes standing in the doorway. The center form strides into the training area with an air of power and purpose, followed closely by the other two women flanking her. The door closes behind them, and you can now make out their features. Standing in the center is a very formidable and familiar looking Andorian, although somehow she looks even more stunning and at the same time more terrifying than when you last saw her a few hours ago. On one side of her, you recognize Crewman Thompson with her tall, thin frame and dark hair. On the other side stands the shorter, stouter, and sassier Crewman Dixon. The three women grin lasciviously at you all with a predatory glint in their eyes. You feel like a slab of fresh meat as they slowly circle you all like hungry wolves. Eventually, Lieutenant zh'Thracia comes to a stop right in front of you while Thompson and Dixon continue to circle.

"Shall we begin, ladies?" zh'Thracia asks the other two women.

"Yes, Mistress zh'Thracia," they both respond in unison with a malicious playfulness in their voices.

"Good." She shifts her focus to the group. "You men are loyal to me, right?"

"Yes, Mistress zh'Thracia!" the group responds in unison. You do your best to follow along.

"You would kill for me, right?" she asks.

"Yes, Mistress zh'Thracia!" the group responds.

"You would die for me, right?" she asks.

"Yes, Mistress zh'Thracia!" the group responds.

"You would never betray me, right?" she asks.

"No, Mistress zh'Thracia!" the group responds.

"But one of you has!" she yells accusingly. "One of you thought you would be clever and get in the security chief's good graces by telling him about our little 'surprise' we had planned for him. Well, one of you has really fucked things up for all of you now!" Her words ring in the air as the group falls silent. The heels of her high leather boots clack against the deck as she walks over to what used to be the rack of training weapons and retrieves what looks like a riding crop. She slaps it hard against the palm of her hand to test its sting and smiles approvingly.

"The standard punishment for disloyalty is the agony booth, but, as you all know, I like to do things a little differently. I'm what you Terrans call 'old-fashioned', and I think today's punishment requires a woman's touch." The other two women take that as their cue to select their own implements. Thompson chooses a long slender cane while Dixon picks a thick transparent aluminum paddle. The women form a triangle around the group of kneeling men with zh'Thracia standing front and center.

"Assume the position!" the Lieutenant commands. The men all bend over and extend their legs, raising their bare asses in the air.

"Fucking hell," you mutter to yourself as you follow their example.

Smack!

Fucking hell! You had no idea that a riding crop would sting that badly. Intense pain radiates from the spot on your ass where zh'Thracia had swatted you. She swings again. This time it lands on your back between your shoulder blades. You cry out in pain, and she kicks you in the face.

"Shut your fucking mouth and take it!" she yells before swatting you two more times. You do your best to bite back a scream and squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back tears. You hear her crop smack again, but this time it lands on your roommate as he stifles his own screams. Behind you, the sounds of Thompson's cane and Dixon's paddle make sickening smacking and cracking sounds against the flesh of your fellow crewmen.

"That's enough!" a deep commanding voice booms from the open doorway. The women stop and glare at the intruder. Thompson and Dixon instinctively draw their knives, but zh'Thracia waves them off.

"Mr. Sulu, I'm glad to see you're well," she says through gritted teeth. The man steps commandingly towards her, flanked by two of his own security crewmen with phasers drawn.

"Why, thank you, Deputy Security Chief. I am sorry I spoiled your promotion plans," he says with a crooked smile.

"What do you doing here?" snarls Thompson.

"This is our turf!" snaps Dixon.

"It's okay, ladies. Let's show the Security Chief some hospitality," zh'Thracia says to them with an air of caution in her voice.

"Oh, it's quite alright, Lieutenant." He says with a chuckle. "I'm only here to welcome the newest member of my security team." He looks over in your direction. Time stops for an instant, and your heart leaps into your throat.

"Mr. Stevenson, get over here!" he calls out. You look over to your roommate, Crewman Brandon Stevenson. His eyes grow wide with fear. The three women stare at him with intense hatred and disbelief in their eyes.

"You're the traitor!" zh'Thracia roars as she storms towards him with her crop raised.

"Nah ah ah," Sulu stops her with a wag of his finger. "He's my man now, and I will reward or punish him as I see fit. Now, bring him to me."

Scowling, zh'Thracia nods to the two women who then obediently snatch Stevenson up from his spot on the floor and drag him to his feet in front of the Security Chief.

"Un-cage him." Sulu commands. zh'Thracia pulls out a small key and unlocks the cage around his cock. You hear a small click and then see it clatter to the floor.

"Now, what do you say?" he asks Stevenson.

"Th-th-thank you, s-s-sir," he stammers weakly.

"You're quite welcome," Sulu says with a broad smile. "Put him in the pillory."

"What?!" Stevenson asks with fear and confusion as Dixon and Thompson swiftly position his arms and neck in the pillory and lock them in place, forcing him to stand bent over at a ninety-degree angle.

"What are you doing?" asks zh'Thracia, genuinely puzzled.

"If he's going to be my man now, then I have to break him in," he says matter-of-factly as he walks around to position himself behind the bent-over and helpless turncoat.

"No! n-n-no, no, please!" the poor soul begs in vain.

"Just relax. Remember, you chose this. Think of it as a promotion," he says in a mock-smoothing tone as he unfastens his uniform pants and pulls out his stiffening cock.

"Oh my," gasps Dixon as she moves her hand over her mouth. Sulu turns to her and gives her a wink.

"Oh my, indeed," he says as he grabs Stevenson by the waist and enters him with one firm thrust. You wince involuntarily as the skewered son of a bitch cries out in pain and horror. Sulu grimaces as he forces his way in deeper. The others look away, but you can't help but stare in stunned silence as the Security Chief ravages the poor crewman's ass with thrust after thrust until finally he lets out several satisfied grunts. Sulu's body relaxes, and he backs away. A glop of sticky cum falls to the floor between Stevenson's shaking legs.

"There, you see? He's my man now." Sulu says with a satisfied grin as he tucks his cock back into his pants. He turns to his two guards. "Get him out of there and back into his uniform. Then bring him to our training area where we can welcome him properly."

Thompson unlocks the pillory so the two men can drag the poor wretch to the corner where they stuff him back into his uniform before carrying him away.

"Well, Lieutenant, my business here is done. Thank you for your hospitality. I bid you adieu." Sulu bows with a dramatic flourish and a ridiculous smile on his face before following his men out the door.

"RAAAAHHH!" zh'Thracia roars in frustration and sends her crop sailing across the room. "Today's lesson is over! Everyone, get dressed and get out!" After a moment she adds, "...and you're all in chastity for another week!" The men groan collectively.

Desperately ready to get out of this madhouse, you remove your collar and scramble for your uniform along with the other men. The nightmarish scene you just witnessed plays over again in your mind and causes you to shudder. You're just thankful that you managed to not draw attention to yourself.

"Crewman Doe." The sound of zh'Thracia's voice calling your name makes your blood freeze. Reluctantly, you turn to face her. "Wait for me in my quarters. You'll be in service to me tonight."

"In service?" you ask, not quite understanding what she means by that. She just stares at you with an ice-cold expression that freezes you to your core. "Um, I mean, yes, Mistress zh'Thracia," you correct yourself. She lets the stare linger for a moment longer before giving you a half-smile, half-leer and walking away. You breathe a sigh of relief.

In service? What the fuck does that mean, you wonder to yourself. You still need to figure out how to get out of here, but you don't want to arouse suspicion or incur the Lieutenant's wrath.