Work Text:
“Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power.”
“Hear, hear!” Tom Paris raises his glass and clinks it against B’Elanna’s, who looks triumphant in her proclamation. Beside you, Harry is blushing, nervously sipping from his drink, and across from you, Tuvok raises his eyebrows.
You’ve gotten used to this by now, finding the antics of the crew on these evenings to be amusing. You were originally reluctant to go – you’ve found it hard to tear yourself away from Kathryn, but B’Elanna insisted that it was “about time your honeymoon phase comes to an end”, and Kathryn had agreed, encouraging you to join them on whatever they got up to on their evenings. She, of course, had gotten to kick back and relax at home. “This isn’t the kind of outing a captain joins her crew on,” she’d explained to you. “It’s more fun when the boss isn’t around.”
Fun, as it turned out, involved going to Sandrine’s, shooting pool, and eventually devolving into crude conversations, almost exclusively led by Tom and B’Elanna. These usually left Harry Kim spluttering (“I’m no prude, it’s just hard to shake off upbringing,” he’d insisted to you once), Tuvok dryly contributing an observation or two that always sent the other three into howling fits of laughter, and you inevitably revealing more than you meant to, causing the others to avert their gazes from Kathryn the following day, mumbling excuses about headaches and urgent tasks on other parts of the ship.
It's not like you were doing it on purpose, though. They just weren’t smart enough to not ask.
“Does our dear captain boss you around in bed, too, Seven?”
Exhibit A.
You quirk your head at Tom, who is watching you with morbid curiosity. “Kathryn does not boss me around. I choose to follow her orders willingly.”
“Yeah, yeah,” B’Elanna says, waving her hand flippantly. “We all know this spiel. But does she give you like, you know, sexy orders?”
“Explain.”
“You know, sometimes you just like, give the other person the power. They tell you what to do and you do it.” Tom shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m not ashamed to admit I like it when B’Elanna bosses me around in bed.”
“Only because she won’t let you boss her around,” Harry quips, causing Tom to choke on his drink.
“Damn right I won’t,” B’Elanna hoots. “But he’s right, Seven. That woman just oozes power. You’d think she’d want to take advantage of that during sex, too.”
You think back on all of your previous sexual encounters with Kathryn. She has always been enthusiastic, and she hasn’t been afraid to take the lead, especially when you were still figuring out what it meant to be physical with another being. Yet, she’s never…ordered you to do anything. She’s asked, she’s suggested, she’s certainly pleaded. But she’s never ordered.
You relay this information to the group, and B’Elanna and Tom eagerly lean forward. “Ah, so you’re telling me our dear captain likes to give up the reins in bed,” Tom says conspiratorially.
“It is quite common for those in positions of power to engage in pastimes that involve yielding control to other individuals,” Tuvok points out.
The other three nod sagely, although Harry’s ears have gone red to the tip.
“So, Janeway gives up the reins in bed.” B’Elanna lets out a low whistle as she leans back in her chair. “And do you take them?” When you quirk an eyebrow, she rolls her eyes. “Do you order her around?”
“Kathryn is quite willing and adept at fulfilling my sexual requests. I see no reason to order her to do anything.”
Harry lowers his head to the table as Tom laughs and B’Elanna leans further forward. “Yeah, but don’t you want to? It’s not like you’re asking her to do things she doesn’t want to do. It’s more ceremonial than anything. Even if you know these are all things she’d do if you asked politely instead. It’s more fun to give orders,” she ends with a wink.
You purse your lips, considering the matter at hand. The thought of Kathryn submitting to you, doing what you tell, rather than ask, her to do, sends a thrill up your spine. You look back at B’Elanna, who’s watching you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I will need some further explanation of how to engage in this behaviour properly.”
Tuvok sighs. “That will be my cue to leave.”
When you get back to your quarters, she’s curled up on the couch under a blanket, feet tucked neatly under her, a PADD in her hands. Her hair is loose and soft around her, and when she looks up at you, you feel a flutter deep in your chest. “You’re back,” she says, voice low and warm, and smiles.
“I have returned,” you echo, loping over to settle beside her on the couch. She leans into you instinctively as you put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into your side. She reaches over and grabs your other hand, pulling it into your lap and tracing her fingers over your implant.
“Did you have fun?”
You hum in response. “I had a very interesting conversation with B’Elanna and Tom.”
Kathryn groans. “Should I be worried?”
You look down at her, watching as her fingers caress the skin and metal on your hand. Here, in your quarters, she always looks so much younger, having shed the weight of captaincy. Her edges are soft, voice gentle and soothing, and B’Elanna’s words echo in your head.
Everything is about sex, except sex, which is about power.
“Are you interested in submission?”
She startles a bit, although you’re not sure if it’s your question or simply the silence you have broken. “You know, usually I have a nice meal when we have these discussions.”
You lean down, brushing your lips lightly against the top of her head. “I would prefer not to wait until tomorrow morning in this case.”
She shivers slightly, clearly grasping the meaning behind your words. “I’ve done some exploring with those kinds of dynamics,” she muses. “I’m a captain, so I’m more than used to ordering people around. My previous lovers have all enjoyed it when I used that power during sex, too.” She looks up, propping her chin on your shoulder. “Is that something you want?”
You raise the hand that’s wrapped around her to drag through her hair slowly. “I did not ask if you are interested in dominance, Kathryn. I asked if you are interested in submission.”
Her eyes darken, and you silently catalogue every physiological reaction of hers to your statement – the increase in her pulse, the uptick in her body temperature, the way her tongue darts out to lick her lips as her breath quickens. “Oh.”
Your fingers tangle into her hair, and you tighten them, tugging just slightly, just enough for her to feel it. “Is that something you would be willing to explore with me?”
She hesitates, and you release her hair, careful of not crossing over her boundaries.
Her eyes catch yours, and she lets out a nervous laugh. “I would,” she says slowly, “I’m just…worried I’ll be bad at it. I’m used to having all the power.”
You lean down, brushing your lips lightly against hers and tightening your fingers in her hair again when she tries to follow you to deepen the kiss. “You are a fast learner. I have no doubt you will succeed.”
Your whole body feels like a live wire.
Her hand lets go of your hair, trailing down your spine to rest possessively on the small of your back. She removes her other hand from your grasp, reaching up to hold your chin in her hand. For a moment, she simply gazes at you, and you feel frozen here, fighting the reflexive urge to take control of the situation. You think she probably notices this internal battle you’re fighting, because she waits patiently while you take a few deep breaths, until your eyes lock onto hers again.
“Go to the bedroom,” she whispers. “Remove your clothing and kneel by the foot of the bed. I will be in shortly.”
You nod, her fingers loosening on your chin, and slip away from her. Your can feel your heartbeat everywhere – in the tips of your fingers, in your throat, and certainly between your thighs. You force yourself to walk into the bedroom without looking back, unsure you’d be able to pick yourself off the floor if you saw the way she’s looking at you.
You take off your pajamas with trembling fingers, folding them neatly onto the armchair in the corner of your room. You lower yourself to the ground, kneeling, settling back onto your heels. You panic for a moment – what do you do with your hands? – before resting them palms down on your thighs, hoping that will cover up how sweaty they are.
And you wait.
At first, you fidget, shifting your weight and rubbing your hands on your legs. The urge to stand up and go find her is overwhelming. Where is she? What’s taking her so long? You push yourself up fully onto your knees, then catch yourself, lowering back slowly. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths again. It’s okay. I trust her. I trust her.
Your heartbeat slows, but even as you calm, your body is still aware enough to feel the shift as she enters the room. You hear her footsteps, soft and measured, and when you feel her fingers tip up your chin you take one last deep breath before opening your eyes.
She’s a vision. She’s let down her hair, soft blonde curls framing her face, and your fingers twitch as you wish you could run your hands through them – and suddenly wonder if you’ll be allowed to. She’s changed out of her bodysuit into a black silk nightgown, clinging obscenely to her cleavage and her hips, landing just above her knees. She runs her fingers back up your jaw, curling them into your hair at the nape of your neck, and you close your eyes again as she massages the back of your neck.
“Open your eyes.”
You look back up at her, heart thumping in your chest. She leans down, pulling on your neck as she does until you’re up on your knees and straining just slightly to reach her. She presses her lips against yours, kissing you slowly and thoroughly, until your thighs feel slick and your fingers hurt from curling into fists on your legs to keep them from reaching up and pulling her down to you.
She pulls away slowly, her eyes smouldering as she looks down at you.
“Get onto the bed.”
You push yourself up carefully, crawling backwards into the middle of the bed, eyes trained on her all the while.
“Open your legs.”
You hesitate, and she raises an eyebrow. “Problem?”
“No,” you blurt out, letting your knees fall open so you’re exposed to her, wet to the point of dripping.
She doesn’t look down, keeping her eyes trained on you. “No, what?”
You pause again, unsure, but this time she doesn’t take your silence for insubordination. She simply waits, as if she’s watching the gears turn in your head, until they click into place.
You lick your lips, shifting your weight back onto your elbows and stretching out your legs so you’re spread fully open for her. “No, captain.”
The reverence in her voice astounds you. Being Borg has its perks, including being exceptionally good at keeping a poker face, but inside you are quivering, utterly falling apart at the way she’s looking at you, like you are a goddess in the flesh before her.
You crawl onto the bed after her, kneeling between her legs and running your hands up them, catching every twitch of her muscles. She doesn’t take her eyes off of you as you run your thumbs along the creases on the insides of her thighs, before moving your hands up her body to cup her breasts, brushing your palms against her nipples. She lets out a strangled moan, but still, she doesn’t look away.
“Good girl,” you praise, and you feel her tremble beneath you.
You reach behind her, dragging pillows closer and pushing her down so she’s propped up, able to look down her body at you but no longer holding up her own body weight. You let your hands trail down her body again, and your human hand traces through the thatch of her on her lower abdomen before tracing over the outsides of her labia, wet and warm. She whines, and as you push a finger between them to press against her clit, her head drops back, eyes closed.
You pull away immediately, and she keens at the loss of contact, immediately jerking her head back up to look at you.
“Eyes on me,” you say, voice low. “I won’t tell you again.”
She nods, fingers curling into the blanket.
You lean forward again, resting your borg hand on her hip while your other hand traces back up her labia and between them again to swipe over her clit. This time, when she whines, her face contorts but she keeps her eyes trained on you, chest rising and falling quickly as her breath quickens.
You trail your fingers down, pushing into her slowly and letting yourself relish the way she clenches around you. She’s so deliciously tight and warm, and you shiver at the thought of everything you have planned for her tonight. Your fingers move slow but steady, and as you reach your thumb back up to rub against her clit in steady circles, you give her another order. “Tell me when you’re about to come.”
She nods, and you watch as the flush spreads over her chest, as she bites her lip and squirms her hips and matches your thrusts with her own. You curl your fingers just so, and she moans wantonly, clearly struggling to keep her eyes trained on you.
“Captain, I’m close –“
You pull away.
She lets out a broken wail, dropping her head back against the pillows. You keep yourself away from a moment, watching again as she goes through the motions: her muscles tensing and relaxing as she fights the urge to take control of the situation. You wait as her breaths even out before pushing yourself up and crawling over her, taking care not to touch her as you do, until you are face to face.
“Did you really think I’d let you come before I did?”
She inhales quickly, then takes another slow, deliberate breath. “No, captain. I’m sorry.”
You smirk, leaning down to run your tongue over her throat, tasting the sweat that’s collected at the hollow of her collarbone. “Good. In due time.”
You bite the inside of your cheek as she pulls away from you, stopping yourself from whining. She stands up, casually reaching down and pulling the nightgown over her head. You let yourself stare, watching as her breasts sway as she leans forward and digs through a drawer, but when you see what she pulls out you’re quickly distracted again.
She lifts her chin at you as she tightens the straps around her hips. “Get up. Kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed.”
You scramble up, moving off the bed and kneeling as quickly as possible. She lopes back, the strap-on bobbing up and down enticingly, until she’s standing before you. Her hand grasps your chin again, thumb rubbing over your lips.
“Open up.”
You open your mouth willingly, and her thumb pushes inside, pressing down on your tongue. With her other hand, she takes the strap-on, adjusting it so that the head is at your lips.
“Suck.”
You wrap your lips around the tip of the cock, keeping your eyes on her all the while. You give it one good suck, tongue pressed against the bottom of the head, before moving your mouth down, taking it further into your mouth.
She watches through hooded eyes as you continue, spit dribbling out of your mouth. You settle into a rhythm, but all too soon she pulls away again, and you whimper. She crawls onto the bed, lying back, before calling after you. “Up.”
You stand and crawl after her, letting her lead you so that you’re braced over her. She pulls you down so that her cock is rubbing against your cunt, and you whine again, thrusting instinctively. Her fingernails dig into your skin as she holds you steady. “You move only when I tell you to.”
You nod, stilling your hips. She pulls you up slightly to nudge her cock under you, lining herself up with your entrance before pulling you down slowly.
She feels incredible. She’s fucked you with the strap on before, but you’ve never done this – you riding her, but her choosing the rhythm, guiding your hips up and down with her hands. She does this for a minute or two before letting her hands drop down. “Keep going.”
You do, enthusiastically. “God, captain, you feel so good inside of me.”
“Tell me. Tell me how it feels.”
Your fingers curl into fists on her abdomen, the metal warm against you. “You feel so big. You stretch me out so well. I love having you inside of me like this.” You moan, your hips moving faster against hers.
Her hands grab your hips again, fingers digging in as you cry out. “Did I say you could speed up?”
You tremble. “No, captain. I’m sorry, captain.”
She lets go again. “Don’t let it happen again.”
It’s hard not to. You move your hips rhythmically, keeping time in your head, focused on making sure you don’t speed up even though you want to, you want to so badly. It keeps you distracted for a while, but before long your body catches up, roaring ahead full speed as you begin to tremble.
“Captain, I’m close again – “
She stills your hips, although her fingernails don’t dig in this time, simply lining up along the bruises you can already feel forming. “Off.”
You pull yourself off of her cock slowly, moving away as she removes the strap and tosses it to the ground. “Lie down.”
You move to take her place, and she leans down to drag her tongue up your cunt once, giving one strong suck to your clit that wrenches a startled moan out of you, before she moves up so that her own hips straddle your face, lowering herself down.
She’s always been good with her tongue.
It’s a joke you heard Tom Paris make once about B’Elanna – about how her quick wit meant she was good with her tongue, and oh boy was she. You found, after he explained it to you in detail that left him finding much less humour in his joke, that the expression fits Kathryn well as well. She’s always been a skilled conversationalist, and she is exceptional at oral sex, although you are still unconvinced that those are truly correlated.
She eats you out like you’re her favourite meal, like she’s been starving for weeks before you lowered your hips onto her face. Her hands grasp at your ass, pulling you down onto her, and her moans vibrate against you, heightening your own arousal. It doesn’t take long before you orgasm, thrusting against her lips as your fingers grasp the headboard so tightly you think you feel it splinter.
You remove yourself from above her, lowering yourself down so you’re lying beside her and pulling her into you. She rests her cheek against your shoulder, and you stroke her hair with one hand while the other rests on her hip. “You did a very good job, Kathryn.”
She doesn’t answer, and you can feel her taking deep breaths against you.
Your lips curl into a lazy smile as you raise her chin again, waiting until raises her gaze to meet yours. “My lovely girl. You have been so wonderfully patient.”
A whimper escapes her.
“Do you think you’ve earned an orgasm?”
She nods, then catches herself. “Only if you think so, my captain.”
You can’t help but smile at this as your fingers let go of her chin, trailing down her side until they are slipping between her thighs again. “You are certainly ready for one, are you not?”
“Yes, captain, please –“
You lean down so your lips are just barely brushing hers. “I concur with your assessment of the situation.” You give her a fleeting kiss at the same time you thrust into her, thumb setting up a quick rhythm against her clit. “You may come for me.”
It doesn’t take long.
She breaks apart beside you, moaning against your lips as she pulses, pushing her hips against your hand. You don’t stop, keeping your rhythm up until she comes again, thighs trembling violently. You slow your pace to a stop, then wait as she comes down, breathing slowing before you remove your fingers. You bring them up to your own lips, licking them clean while she catches her breath beside you.
“Seven?”
You hum.
She takes this as an unspoken acknowledgement that you no longer require submission of her, and the hand on your chest unfurls as she presses her palm against your chest. You reach down, raising it up to your face and scrutinizing the deep red marks where her fingernails have dug into her palm so hard she has almost bled. You kiss them gently before returning the hand to your chest, feeling her breath even out beside you.
“Thank you,” she murmurs as she drifts off into sleep.
Sex is about power, you muse.
Perhaps there’s something to be said about the correctness of the statement.