Title: Metamorph
Author: Supersleuth Trekbottom L. ( diana6prince@yahoo.com )
Series: The Next Generation
Code: Crusher/Kamala, the Metamorph
Rating: NC-17 for a decent proposal
Summary: Events take place during the episode "The Perfect Mate". After a heated discussion with Jean-Luc about whether Kamala, the Metamorph, is a free woman or a an enslaved prostitute, Beverly is compelled to visit Kamala to find out for herself.
Archive: FFF and ASCEM, and anywhere else, please ask first.
Disclaimer: Oh Gene, you naughty bastard, if you didn't mean for me to read in so many, many sly possibilities in your stories, why, oh, why did you keep all the leading ladies unattached and strongly independent???? You hold the reins, Gene, but I'll just take the ponies out for a run to stretch their legs, okay? Paramount, owners of all the Trek ladies, I swear, I'll not profit a cent from it, but I'll ride them hard and rub them down well before bringing them home. Promise!
Written for the FFF round 17 -- http://www.svpress.us/femmefuhqfest/
Feedback: Love it! diana6prince@yahoo.com
by Supersleuth Trekbottom L.
Beverly walked into the Metamorph's quarters after ringing the buzzer and hearing the invitation to enter.
"Dr. Crusher," Kamala greeted her warmly. "I am surprised to see you. I am quite well, if you have come to inquire after my health."
Beverly smiled, just a little self-consciously. "I am glad to hear that. I won't take much of your time. I know you are in preparation for the coming ceremony. I came to ask you about that, actually."
Her visitor seemed uncomfortable, which Kamala picked up on immediately.
Kamala was an empath, that's what Crusher had been told- that she would mold herself to the desires of whatever man she was with, until she bonded permanently to the needs and desires of a single mate she would serve faithfully for the rest of her life. It seemed so wrong, so backwards a notion after the centuries of struggle human women had endured to create equality and empowerment for themselves.
This idea of servitude was so troubling to Beverly Crusher, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise, that she felt compelled to speak of it with the woman directly. Jean-Luc would be furious if he knew she were here, and why. That didn't deter her though, and she would intrude only briefly. She only wanted to satisfy herself that this woman, meant as a gift to the leader of a world she'd never met, was truly acting of her own volition.
"Please, sit," Kamala gestured to the couch and chair in her temporary guest quarters. She knew Crusher would feel more comfortable sitting. It would feel less formal, less of an imposition.
"Thank you," Beverly said as she sat in the middle of the couch. Kamala took the chair, crossed her legs gracefully and leaned back in a restful pose. The elegance of the movement caught Beverly's attention briefly until she refocused on her purpose.
"I won't take much of your time," she began. "I wanted to ask you, woman to woman... I have to know, do you really want to go through with this bonding you are to be delivered to?" She had to keep her lip from curling up at the word 'delivered'.
Kamala smiled. "You are concerned for me. Dr. Crusher, I am touched by your compassion. Your Captain expressed similar thoughts for my happiness as well. As I told Jean-Luc, it is a natural instinct for me to please those around me. I have suffered no ill treatment, ever. All I have ever wanted is for the day to come when I would bond permanently with my mate. It may be hard for you to understand, just as it is difficult for me to imagine living as you do, happy in your solitude and independence."
At that, Crusher looked into her lap. "Yes, I suppose it is hard to imagine," she said quietly. She probably shouldn't have come here after all.
A look of understanding and compassion bloomed softly across Kamala's features.
"But you do not want to be thus. You have lost the one you loved. I am truly sorry."
The sympathy and softness in the woman's voice made Beverly a little more sad. She hadn't come here to brood about herself but the empath had seen right into her heart and spoken what she saw there with a frankness even Troi would not dare.
"We are not so dissimilar, Doctor. We both know the desire to bond. Perhaps you are only more fond of your individuality as an entity, whereas I am happy that my identity will become the compliment to another. You see, that is my heart's desire, to bond with the best, most noble and positive aspects of my mate and cultivate them within both of us. I am not being restricted, I am being fulfilled. You need not be concerned for me. Although I find your caring to be a very noble trait."
Crusher smiled. She felt better already. She had thought this molding of oneself to another's life to be the opposite to the self-determination she herself valued so highly and she was correct, in a way. But Kamala seemed truly happy in that and empowered in her choice to follow her nature. Who was she to argue with that? She had gotten the reassurance of Kamala's welfare she had come for. She would take no more of this woman's precious time.
Kamala sensed the resolution of Beverly's thoughts and her imminent departure before the redhead even shifted her weight on the couch.
"Doctor, you have extended such a beautiful gesture of caring towards me, would you allow me to give you something in return? Among many other things, I have studied the art of massage. I have been sensing the pain you have in your shoulders, and I would offer to relieve you of it, if you would allow me."
That was truly the kindest offer she had heard in quite a while and her shoulders *were* aching painfully from all the reports she'd had to file on her computer lately. But she felt uncomfortable saying yes to this woman she hardly knew. She shouldn't be in these quarters to begin with, interfering with her meddlesome questions.
The Metamorph could feel her guest's indecision. She got up from the chair, saying, "You have all been very kind to me. It would please me to return that kindness." She moved behind the couch as she finished speaking and placed a hand on each of Beverly's shoulders. "Will you accept?"
Beverly looked over her shoulder at the beautiful dark-haired alien woman.
"Alright," she said shyly. She wasn't at all used to having personal attention paid to her these days.
Kamala gathered up the red hair, put it over one of Beverly's shoulders, and began gently kneading the muscles of her shoulders and neck. Beverly could feel the tension she'd been carrying start to bleed away. Kamala worked the knots from between her shoulder blades and the pain from her neck expertly.
She really needed this, Crusher thought. She could feel energy returning to the overworked areas and flowing all over the rest of her body. She felt her stomach tighten and her tense thigh muscles start to loosen as Kamala lightened the touch to caress her scalp and forehead. Beverly could feel the beginning tingles of arousal go through her. Maybe the Metamorph didn't affect only men with her raised levels of pheromones. It was time for her to leave.
"Thank you Kamala, I feel very much better." Beverly got up from the couch and walked around it, towards the door.
"But I can make you feel so much better than that," Kamala intercepted her. "Won't you stay a while longer?"
The boldness of the statement and matter of fact tone made Crusher stop in her tracks. Kamala had such beautiful eyes, such a lithe and sensual body, and it was all dismaying to Beverly as she fought to control her increasing desire to stay.
Kamala moved to lean in and placed a light kiss on her neck. Then another. Then a took a small nip with her teeth that made Beverly shudder. Her sense of duty forced Kamala's name over her lips.
The Metamorph whispered into Beverly's ear, "I am breaking no vows and you are violating no boundaries of mine. I am free to do as I may until the bonding ceremony tomorrow. It would give me great pleasure to experience you, Beverly. But one word from you and I will step away."
Kamala's accent flowed deliciously into Beverly's ear, her female scent floated to her nostrils and the sound of her own name so intimately spoken shook her resolve.
Beverly didn't move a muscle. Sensations were running through her she could not ignore. She felt a kinship with this woman also, a respect and growing fondness. An empathic link was beginning to reciprocate between them.
She turned her head ever so slightly away from Kamala's face, exposing more of her neck, and Kamala took this to be the acquiescence it was, and continued the small kisses and nips.
"I have never felt a woman's desire for me before. It is unique," came a whisper between kisses.
Beverly responded by drawing Kamala's body into hers, her arms around the tall thin form. Kamala could feel the strength in the female frame pressed into hers. Not the same hardness of a man's body, but a wiriness, a strength in her core, masked by firm but yielding muscles, and a supple layer of fat evenly underlying the skin.
Kamala found this all unexpectedly inticing. She wrapped her arms tighter around Beverly, their breasts pressing into one another. She felt waves of sensation and other information permeating the room now. She knew this remarkable woman in no way wanted to be served or serviced. Her pleasure would be stimulated by nothing less than their meeting as equals. Kamala must bring her own desires forth to meld with her female lover. She felt strongly from Beverly her desire to satisfy Kamala's needs as part of what would heighten the experience.
Beverly sought soft lips and kissed and sucked at them, abandoning her shyness. Her appetite had grown from a small twinge to an engulfing passion so very quickly, yet she felt unhurried. There was no pressing expectation or erection to demand she keep a set pace. It was all divine!
She did want to get her clothes off though.
"Kamala, the bedroom," she whispered.
The inner room was warm and they pulled off each other's clothes and sat on the bed, kissing delicately all the while. Kamala traced along Beverly's thigh with the backs of her fingers and Beverly reached for a small firm breast.
Not even her beloved Jack had made love to Beverly like this. They stroked each other's entire bodies with reverence and delight, longing and compassion and lust.
Unbeknownst to Beverly, Kamala bonded a portion of her personality to Beverly's passionate and generous spirit. She would not be entirely honest with Jean-Luc tomorrow about only bonding to mirror him. This sharing with the Doctor would be her secret alone. In a strange way, she felt she was uniting the reined-in affections that were so much more than that between the two officers. She would carry the imprint of both their essences within her own.
For now, she drank Beverly in. Such a sensual woman, she caressed every soft inch, learning of duty, passion, solitary strength, and how physical touch could encompass emotion and spiritual awareness, creating a world around them only they shared, and that nothing existed outside of. She could experience the fullness of her own desire for this woman within it. Kamala knew Beverly was unaware of the soft moans that escaped her lips, and that charmed her all the more.
They each reached small climaxes that seemed only part of a dance, rather than an end punctuation to their closeness as Kamala had expected. She was at a loss as to describe them as physical, emotional, or something else altogether.
Beverly did call out more strongly as her lover found the place to stroke her into a final convulsive orgasm. A few minutes later, Beverly, still caught in Kamala's intoxicating state of arousal experienced her first empathic orgasm: a strange and wonderful energetic sensation just as she felt Kamala's physical orgasm over her fingers and palm.
"You have introduced me to the art of Lovemaking well, Beverly," Kamala spoke after long moments.
"Introduced you? You mean...?"
The Metamorph smiled, knowingly, gratefully, innocently.
The baffled redhead smiled after a moment. "I think you may have returned the favour."
End.