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The Admiral's Belt

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The bed sheets are cool against my hands and knees and I shift slightly to get a little more comfortable as I wait. The position should be degrading, humiliating, and yet my body is buzzing with arousal and the thrill of what is to come. Of course Chakotay knows. He knows I need this, knows how much I want it, want him.

I roll my shoulders to alleviate the tension that has been building throughout the day. The briefings have been especially infuriating recently and have made me actually question my urgency to find our way back home. We did just fine before without constantly reporting every minor detail of every single day.

I close my eyes and instead focus on Chakotay quietly moving in the other room. My heart instantly beats faster, thinking of the love and understanding he has for me, especially after long days like today. All he had to do tonight was see me walk into his quarters, much later than we had planned, to recognize the stress and exasperation written all over me.

How easy it has become for him to fall into the dominant role he inhabits in our bedroom. Thinking about his kind features becoming stern, his hand firm on my chin, makes my breasts feel tight and my nipples harden. His voice still echoes in my head. ‘You should really keep the stress outside. Now strip.’ Heat travels down to my belly at the memory of his command.

When I undress for him, no matter the circumstances, he always looks at me like I am the only thing worth seeing. He instantly makes me feel desired and wipes away all self-doubt. Just like tonight, when I dropped my clothing right in the center of the room while he watched my movements, followed the reveal of every new patch of skin with intense focus.

His next words made me swallow hard, and I doubt they will ever lose that effect on me. ‘Get on the bed on all fours. Wait for me. Don’t touch yourself.’ Hearing his rough tone directed at me, sends a shiver down my back every time.

Being here now, in the bedroom we share more often than not, I feel the moisture pooling between my thighs. I adjust my position again, anxious for him to touch me, scratch me, bite me, spank me, anything he has in mind. There was a time when this need for him was embarrassing, when I was ashamed to want him so much, but not anymore. Now I enjoy the anticipation and his reaction when I let go of my inhibitions.

Finally, I hear him entering the room and when he steps up to the bed, I bite my lip at the sight. He is barefoot and shirtless, exposing his solid form. The lights are low, making him look imposing, maybe even threatening if I didn’t know him so well. His face is rigid, his eyes setting fire to my bare skin. Arching my back is almost a reflex and his lips curve up in response. I feel something being placed on the bed at my feet, but I can’t make out what it is.

“One of these days I should make you see yourself like this.” His voice is low but steady and could almost pass for dispassionate. Just his presence so close to me speeds up my pulse further.

“You look so desperate, bent over, jutting out your ass, begging to be fucked.”

A low moan slips from my lips. He saves his crude words for moments like these, when I am focused on nothing but him, when their blatant truth replaces everything else on my mind, reducing me to exposed nerves and liquid desire.

His arms are crossed, like he is examining me for purchase.

“We could create a double on the holodeck and you could watch me take her. Maybe I’d even let you touch yourself. There are so many options.”

The picture he paints kindles the heat inside of me and I sway slightly, my thighs firmly pressing together in the delusive attempt to find some release. I fight the urge to shut my eyes because I’m not willing to completely give in just yet.

One of his strong hands lands on my lower back, not with the sharp sting I hunger for, but softly and even hotter than my own skin. Nevertheless, my muscles are taut, craving the pain he promised.

I can hear his smirk when he speaks. “So tense, Kathryn. Let’s see if I can help with that.”

His hand slowly glides over my ass and then his fingers dip low towards my folds. I instantly spread my legs to give him better access and he hums appreciatively.

“We haven’t even started and you’re already wet.”

He spreads the moisture around, his fingers gliding everywhere except where I want him most.

“Or do you get off on thinking about me fucking a holographic version of you? You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

His fingers maintain their light movements, back and forth in that slow and infuriating rhythm.

“You could watch yourself losing control when I bury my dick inside of you. So much better than a mirror. Do you think you’d come, seeing yourself like that?”

I can’t help it, so I push back against him, not caring that I am already desperate for release.

Not surprisingly, his tone is mocking. “So needy. Do you really think you deserve to come already?”

Damn him and his deep voice and thick, fuckable fingers, and damn him for knowing exactly how to drive me insane.

I have to actively unclench my jaw to speak and I sound rough and strained. “Please.”

His fingers continue their maddening administrations, gliding over me in soft circles, and I know he is missing my clit intentionally.

“Please what?”

I breathe out a sigh of frustration.

“Please, Sir. Please let me come.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

He slips one finger inside me and the slight stretch may not be as much as I want but I’ll take it if he’ll only let me climax. I rock back and forth against him, and a whimper escapes my throat.

But then he speaks up again. “Just not yet.”

Almost instantly his fingers disappear from me, and I protest loudly, my head dropping to the sheet in frustration.

“Oh Kathryn. You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”

I can’t reply, too focused on the climax that I have just been denied. Suddenly his slick fingers are back, gliding between the cleft of my ass, rubbing over the puckered ring of muscle. He massages me gently, bringing my arousal back easily, and then he carefully slides a finger inside and the familiar pressure makes me groan into the mattress.

He moves his finger slowly in and out, pressing it a little deeper each time.

“You’ve got such a perfect ass. I should know, I have spent enough time staring at it.”

He pulls his finger almost out entirely and just when I prepare for the impending feeling of emptiness, he adds a second digit and pushes back in. I pant, my fists twisting into the sheets and he just keeps talking calmly, like he isn’t finger-fucking my ass.

“I used to stare at your shapely behind when you were bending over consoles, climbing up ladders, crawling through the Jeffries tubes. I would stare and then later in my quarters I’d jerk off thinking about what I’d like to do to you. If I had known how much you enjoy this, I would have never been able to focus on anything else.”

I moan, knowing all too well what he looks like fisting his thick cock. It is such a thrill to watch his practiced movements, the twitch in his thighs and abs just before he climaxes. The memory sends a fresh wave of moisture between my legs, and I raise my shoulders and rock my hips into the movements of his fingers. I arch my back a little more, incoherent words escaping my throat at the increased pressure, feeling the coil deep inside me tensing further.

Once more he withdraws his fingers in the last moment and this time I cry out in a voice I barely recognize as my own. He chuckles in reply and then I feel something cool and slick pressing against my muscle, and before I have fully recovered from my denied orgasm, he slides the plug inside of me, stretching me until it falls into place.

In the moment Chakotay gives me to calm myself, resting my forehead against my shaking arms, wiping at the perspiration, I hear him wash his hands and then he is standing at my side again, something dangling from his hands. I swallow down the flutter of anticipation when I recognize it as the belt of my uniform.

He kneels next to the bed, bringing his face level with mine. For a moment, his dominant mask cracks and care flickers in his eyes. He pushes aside the hair plastered to my damp skin, and I give him a smile and quick nod. He easily slips back into his role, as if a darkness descends on his features, and he stands again.

He has never used anything but his hands before, and while that has been a thrilling experience each time, the thought of the leather and the possible rise in intensity is making my muscles tighten in anticipation. My back, glutes, and thighs are straining, awaiting the first unfamiliar contact, and the tension moves the plug teasingly.

The first contact my bare skin makes with the cool leather is when he touches it lightly to my back, then running it down to my thighs. When he lifts it, I hold my breath, waiting for the pain, but nothing happens, just my heart beating loudly in my ears. I begin to wonder if he has something else in mind when the first strike hits me sharply across my ass, and the sting races through me, forcing the breath from my lungs.

Before I can replenish the oxygen, he hits me twice more in quick succession, moving down my thighs. The pain sears through me, bright and hot, all the way to my hairline and down to my toes until it causes a new gush of liquid between my legs. My breath is ragged, spasms running along my flushed skin, not sure where the following blow will strike. Still, I am unprepared for the slap across my calves, the shock making me gasp.

I am so alert, trying my hardest to sense his next movement, that he startles me when he asks, “Would you like more?”

My voice is rough when I answer, “Yes, please, Sir.”

I brace myself, and the next blow hits the top of my thighs just right, so I feel it against my slick cunt and the pain is even sharper, like fire racing along my nerves. I fall forward and a sob escapes me.

“Please, please more.”

When he replies with two more sharp cracks of the belt against my buttocks, I cry out in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, not caring how frantic I sound. The clench around the toy inside of me only adds to the mixture of discomfort and pleasure, serving as a cruel reminder of how much I need him inside my throbbing heat.

He speaks again, his words swimming through my lust-clouded brain. “I wish Command could see you like this. Their renowned representative out in the Delta Quadrant, standing for all that’s right and pure in the Federation, begging to be spanked with her own belt across her prim, plugged ass.”

He slowly traces his fingers over my stinging flesh, along my hips, down my stomach.

“What do you think they’d have to say? Think they’d like to watch you fraternize with your Ex-Maquis lover?”

Suddenly his fingers are at my cunt, probing me, spreading my juices over my swollen flesh and I whimper at his contact.

He bends close to my ear, voice low and sharp. “Is that what has you dripping? Do you want someone to watch us? What a way to make our relationship official, showing everyone how you get off on being treated like a bitch in heat.”

He shoves a finger inside of me and I groan as the first sting is quickly replaced with pleasure surging through me. I move my hips against him, the doubled pressure of being filled radiating through my veins, sending my mind spiraling through the bliss of the impending orgasm.

The force of the belt hitting me again pushes me forward, against his fingers, and a noise between a cry and a sob leaves my lips. I lose all sense of the present, floating in the searing pain of the belt hitting me across my ass, striking my exposed labia, cracking against my thighs and calves. The pain blossoms, grows, sends needles through me, making me cramp and convulse. My muscles clench around his fingers and the plug, twisting my insides with imminent release.

Incoherent strings of “yes” and “please” and “don’t stop” fall from my lips, and just when I think I can’t take any more, the belt smacks me with another loud crack and light bursts inside me, my constricting abdomen lifting my knees off the bed as spasms race through me.

When I come back down, his fingers move slowly, carefully, just enough to make me twitch. I am leaning into him, his erection pressing against my hip. My head is hanging between my arms, the muscles shaking with the effort to hold up my body.

Then his fingers slide from me and I whine at the loss of contact.

I barely have time to catch my breath before he moves again. I hear the rustle of fabric and when I turn my head he is at my side, entirely naked, his large erection jutting out in front of me. I stare at it, mesmerized, hungry, and bite my lip.

He fists himself with slow, deliberate strokes, and I whimper at the sight.

“I don’t know if I should finish down your throat or fuck your cunt.”

I don’t care. I want him. Any way he sees fit, any way to feel him climax. When he slides his thumb across his leaking tip, I crave nothing more than to taste him, feel him take advantage of any part of me he wishes.  

“Put your arms behind your back.”

It takes a little bit of shuffling on unsteady knees until I have raised myself and put my arms on my back. I am completely exposed to him, breasts pushed out, nipples turned into achingly neglected peaks. I clench around the plug and feel the pulsing return to my folds.

Chakotay loops the belt around my lower arms and then I shift until I am facing him, my eyes level with his broad chest. I can’t stop myself and press my lips to his firm skin, tasting him, inhaling him, needing him with all my senses.

“If you want to use that mouth, there is a better place for it.”

With that he takes a step back and pushes my torso down until I am finally able to suck his hard length between my lips. His answering hiss goes straight to my core, and even though my muscles are stretched, as my torso is supported by the belt around my arms, I barely notice any discomfort, too focused on the velvety feel of him against my tongue.

I am entirely at his mercy, unable to move more than my head and he rocks inside my mouth. I try my best to suck him in deeply, run my tongue over the hard ridges and veins. The angle is making it difficult for me to take him in fully, and he is only thrusting lightly back and forth. I know he is holding back.

“Yes… I love fucking that hot mouth of yours.” His voice is strained and it spurs me on.

I suck more forcefully, tightening my lips around him, taking in as much of him as I can. My tongue is pressed against the underside of his cock, moving rhythmically. His thrusts speed up and I take them hungrily, humming in the back of my throat.

“Impatient minx.”

With a groan he pulls away, saliva dripping from me, his breathing heavy.

The next thing I know, he is guiding me back to sit on my heels, deepening the feel of the plug once more. He loosens the leather around my wrists and his warm hands rub along the strained muscles, relieving the ache. Our reprise is short however.

“I have to be inside of you. Now. Turn around.”

I almost weep with joy of finally getting to feel him and do as I am told, pressing my ass against his erection still wet with my saliva. The heavy feel of it against my tortured skin is so damn good I sigh loudly.

He leans forward and then the belt is looped around my throat. I lower my head to protect my windpipe and a thrill rushes down my body from the pressure against my veins and his hot length trapped between our bodies. The waves crest at my center, pushing me closer to the edge again.

And then finally, blissfully, his thick member is pressing into me, slowly past the obstruction of the plug. I brace myself, taking deep breaths as he fills me, stretches me painfully until the dull ache is replaced by nothing but pleasure as my body adjusts to him. When I am flush against his groin, he grunts.

“Fuck, you are tight.”

Then he pulls on the leather around my neck, only lightly at first so I lean into it, seeking that perfect feeling of surrender. He tightens his grip on the belt, his other hand holding my hip, burning against the welts left behind. His nails bite into my skin and I hiss at the contrasting sensations.

Then he slams into me, and I lean my head forward, pressing myself against the leather. He pulls back out, increasing his rhythm, giving me less time to recuperate between strokes.


The word sends flames licking across my skin.

“You are mine to use, mine to hurt and control.”

I moan loudly against the pressure of the belt, the noise sounding frenzied, and press myself back harder into his thrusts at the same time. The hindered flow of oxygen makes me light headed, and I feel as if I am swimming in a sea of pleasure and pain, where they are one, working as a unified force that laps against my clit over and over.

“Use your fingers. Show me how desperate you are.” he commands roughly.

I lean down on one arm, changing the angle of his thrusts and I feel him even deeper, even more forcefully. He releases the belt to grab both of my hips, moving my body against his. I reach between my legs, to my swollen lips parted around his pounding shaft. It seems obscene to feel us joined like this, him gliding against my fingers, my juices producing squelching sounds that mix with the slap of skin on skin and our groans.

He is ramming into me, shaking my body and the bed, and it just takes me a few light circles against my clit and my toes are curling, as I howl into the sheet, coming again with hot explosions bursting in my veins.

Before I can fully recover, he pulls himself from my still quivering channel. The loss of him almost hurts and I whimper. He slaps my ass in reply.

“I need to see you when I come.”

And then he is stretched out on the bed, pulling my weak and spent body on top of his. The belt ties my wrists once more behind my back and then he forcefully guides himself back inside of me with one long push. I find myself incapable of moving of my own accord as he holds the leather that traps my wrists, and then he fucks into me, hard, relentless, and I am lost. His thrusts are rapid, galaxies spiral behind my eyes, the pleasure of the dual penetration so intense I feel removed from reality, drifting on this crest of the intense sensations.

His words, pressed past his strained jaw, bring me back to him. “So good, I love your greedy cunt, gripping my cock.”

I moan and sob until he bucks up into me, so hard I am lifted off the bed, and then I feel him erupting inside of me with a guttural cry.

We are suspended in time, neither of us able to move, just working hard to control our breathing, to find our way back down.

His fingers release my hips, let go of the leather around my wrists, freeing them. Then his hands are sliding softly over my back, kneading my arms, up to my shoulders, along my sides, meticulously covering every inch of me. I sigh and my head sinks against his chest heavily, relishing his loving touch while still feeling the aftermath of our shared climax pulsing between us.

He pushes my hair aside and kisses my forehead before he whispers to me softly, “I am going to clean up. Will you be okay on your own for a minute?”

I just nod, twisting my head enough to catch his warm eyes.

When he pulls himself from me, I groan at the loss, and then he is guiding me to lie on the bed. My body is still not mine to control so I come to rest on my stomach, feeling entirely boneless, the sheets cool against my slick skin. He slowly and carefully extracts the plug and I sink even lower into the pillows, enjoying the stretch of my spine and focus on my breathing and heartbeat returning to normal.

I can hear Chakotay in the ‘fresher and then he steps back out. He places a cool, wet towel against my battered behind, soothing the ache, gently wiping me clean. I hiss when his fingers lightly trace the welts.

“Should I get the dermal regenerator?”

I reach back to feel the damage. It doesn’t seem like anything I haven’t experienced before, and part of me hopes for bruises to distract me from whatever mundane events tomorrow may hold. So I blindly reach for his hand, lightly grasping his fingers.

“I’m fine. Lie with me for a little bit?”

We easily find our way under the sheets, chest to chest, his arms wrapping me in a cocoon of warmth, my cheek against his skin and his breath in my hair.

A giggle bubbles up from deep inside, and he leans back to look down at me.

“What’s so funny?”

I hide behind my hands, cheeks suddenly hot, still snickering.

“I don’t think I can ever look at that belt the same way again.”

Now he’s chuckling, too.

“Well, that could be a good thing. Might lighten the mood when you have to sit through more of those briefings.”

I swat his arm but can’t wipe the grin off my face.