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And now ladies and gentlemen, UPF Enterprises and UPF Productions have teamed with UPF Pictures to present...

THE UNTOLD TALES OF VOYAGER

Chapter 1: Meet The Crew

Ensign Harry Kim felt regret hit him like an icepick to the scrotum.

As a toddler, he was slated to be sold to a wealthy infertile couple on the Luna Colony until his father finally realized he was a boy. The deal was broken as the Kim family was without a male heir. Harry grew up learning the ins and outs of the family business, Matter Reclamation.

It sounded fairly benign, and Harry had even been excited to finally accompany his dad to work one day, only to find out what that entailed. They climbed into the old beat up hovertruck as they had done so many times before, and promptly drove under the cover of night to the nearest pet cemetery.

In horror, Harry watched as his father dug up dozens of deceased and decaying dogs, cats, and a myriad of other small animals. As dawn approached a disgusted Harry and his father, prideful that his son was poised to take over the business one day, bagged the dead animals and tossed them into the back of the truck. Harry and his father would then sleep for most of the morning while Harry’s mother and 14 older sisters scraped the rotting flesh from the animals’ bones. The collection of flesh would be sold to the nearest Government Replicator Center. The replicator centers, ignorant of the meat’s source, would then break it down into untraceable base particles and distribute it to homes across the world as part of the Planetary Replicator Network, the mechanism responsible for feeding the world.

“You see son, the key is not to use human cemeteries. Too many questions asked. But they don’t even post guards at the pet cemeteries! One day this whole operation will be yours! I’m so proud of you son.”

Ten years later, as his father grew closer to retirement and talk of Harry stepping in full time once he had graduated from school became common, Harry Kim left his home in the middle of the night to join Starfleet Academy.

Harry’s biggest regret was that, instead of staying home to work in that macabre profession, he had graduated from Starfleet Academy and been assigned to the USS Voyager.

He was completely naked, his arms bound behind his back with a gimp mask over his face and a ball gag suppressing his screams. The rope cut into his wrists, and he pleaded with his torturer to stop, but Captain Janeway was a cruel mistress.

“Harry, my dear Harry, just how did you get that name anyway? You haven’t even a follicle on you save for that mop on your head…” Janeway said as she walked around her captive in a slow circle, smacking him with a riding crop at random while doing so. “But enough about you and your boyish charms Harry. I know I had lured you here under the premise of supplemental training, well in my own special way that’s just what you’re going to get. The purpose of my lessons…is to make a man out of you Harry Kim!”

Harry began to cry, and a large tear ran down the cheek of the gimp mask, Janeway leaned in, licking the tear off with a long dedicated stroke of her tongue. As the salty flavor hit her taste bud she let out a deep moan, frightening Harry Kim so much that he fainted and feel to the ground.



Tom Paris was busy at the helm when his console lit up. “Commander, we’re receiving a distress signal.”

“Put it on screen Ms. Paris.” Chakotay said deadpan.

“I hope you choke on your fucking bird wing or whatever that nasty thing is that you carry around all the time.” Paris retorted as he brought the image up onto Voyager’s main viewscreen. The image switched from empty space to the bridge of the unidentified ship. To the crews horror, the ship and its crew were Talaxian.

“Greetings strange travelers!” said the one in the middle, “Are we ever so glad to see your. We are having a bit of engine trouble, and my brothers’ attempt to fix it has well…failed utterly!”

Chakotay grasped his stomach; the ulcer Neelix had induced in him was suddenly acting up and counteracting the effects of the equine-grade antacids that the Doctor had prescribed. Although his first instinct was to resume course, Chakotay felt it was his duty to see if there was any way they could profit from this exchange.

“That is a …terrible shame, Mr. uhhhh”

“Oh where are my manners,” the obnoxious Talaxian Captain said as the other two Talaxians began running around in the background behind him, apparently playing a game of tag where the objective was to pinch each other on the ass. “I’m Weelix, and my brothers back there are Deelix and Peelix. If you can help us out, we’ll be happy to join your crew as cooks and entertainers.”

That had been enough. Still clutching his abdomen in pain, Chakotay turned towards Tuvok. “If those motherfuckers get a whiff of the inside of our ship we’re all fucking doomed, lock phasers and fire at will.”

To those that knew him, Tuvok’s lack of hesitation was not surprising. Ten seconds later the Talaxian ship was reduced into a cloud of rapidly expanding debris and gases and Voyager was on her way.

“That was way too goddamn close; I want the specifications for that ship logged in our databanks along with a notation advising to destroy on sight with no questions asked.” Chakotay muttered as he started popping a small bottle of pills, hoping to stop the overworked proton pumps in his stomach.”

“But won’t the Captain just rescind that order? You know how she likes Neelix.” Paris warned.

“That bitch only keeps him around because he annoys the shit out of us all.” Chakotay spat. “Besides when has she ever objected to killing anyone? If you ask me we should alter course to the Talaxian homeworld and not stop firing until we’ve finished doing this universe a huge favor.”



Harry opened his eyes to see that he was in his own bed, with his blanket covering him snugly. As he awoke he felt a strange feeling below his waist, looking down he realized that he was sporting an erection.

“Here let me get that for you,” whispered a voice from behind.

“Tom? Is that you?” Harry asked, his voice full of anxious hope.

“Shhhhh,” Tom said. “Just hush and let me make it all better.”

Harry closed his eyes again as he awaited Tom Paris’s magic touch, but the sweet release never came. Instead he felt a tight grip and a stabbing sensation that reminded him of the Starfleet Medical standard STD test that was administered to all personnel after Shore Leave, a.k.a “The Kirk Rules.”

“Tom? I’m scared…” Harry whimpered as he looked down to see himself being stroked slowly, as he looked over his should he saw Tom Paris, but his voice had changed slightly.

“Don’t fight it Harry,” said the voice, which was beginning to sound more and more like Captain Janeway’s.

Harry’s eyes blasted open so hard that his eyelids nearly retracted permanently as he saw Janeway inserting the glass rod into his urethra even deeper as she lightly stroked the underside of his penis.

“Ah you’re awake now Ensign. That will make this procedure much easier and far more interesting, although I admit seeing you whisper Mr. Paris’s name while I toyed with your cock is VERY enlightening and I will have to mention it to him the next time I see him in the mess hall.”

Harry tried to say something before realizing that the ball gag was still in his mouth.

“Ah yes I suppose you’re wondering about the rod. It’s an ancient torture technique, the victim would be stimulated until he was fully erect and a glass rod was inserted into his penis. Now back then they would simply smash the rod and the glass would break inside causing some very nasty damage and what I assume would be the most pain a man could possibly feel. But you and I Harry, we’re not as uncouth as to do that. At least I hope not. No, you and I are going to play a little game, and if you win, I’ll pull that invasive little rod out of you and you’ll be free to go, one step closer to our goal of turning you into a real man.”

Janeway started unzipping the uniform on her jumpsuit. “But Harry, if you lose…if you disappoint me I swear I will reach down with my own hand and squeeze down on your cock until that glass rod is nothing but teeny tiny little shards slicing through your insides so deeply that we’ll have to fucking amputate! Is that clear?” Enhancing her point, she reached down causing Harry to flinch nervously.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Janeway said as she slid out of the upper half of her jumpsuit. Harry tried to look away, “oh and Ensign, I’m not sure if this part of the history is accurate enough, but another tale about this torture has it that if a victim lost his erection then that too could break the rod. So do try and enjoy yourself. You don’t have to work hard tonight, all I want you to do is learn a little about a woman’s body, and to that end I’m going to put on quite the show for you.”

Harry looked on in terror as she finished removing the jumpsuit, the crotch sticking tightly to her unkempt bush, snapping free only when the rest of the suit reached Janeway’s ankles. In a misguided attempt to lure young men such as Harry, she never wore panties, unfortunately her raging libido caused her unusually wet vagina to drip constantly, that fluid mixed with the sweat that gathered in her crotch left her pubic hair a tussled and matted mess.

Unable to look away and forced to “enjoy” the performance, Harry did the only thing that he could do. He wept once again.

Janeway noticed the glistening moisture streaking down Harry’s face, causing her to grin harder. Every sexual experience she had ever been a part of involved a man crying, intentionally on her part or otherwise, and she was not about to end that streak now.



In a secluded area behind the Warp Core, Belanna Torres enjoyed her eight smoke break of the day. Her subordinates in engineering constantly joked that at the rate she was going through smokes, she would end up sounding like Janeway before too long. But she didn’t care, her engineering abilities allowed her to bypass the computer’s restrictions on illicit substances, thus allowing her to replicate some modest quality marijuana.

“Ah weed how I missed thee,” she said wistfully as she lit up. She had always conjured up her best ideas while high. Including the initial failed attempt to travel at the fable Warp 10. Achieving infinite speed and velocity was far easier to understand when baked out of one’s skull, even if the notes taken were incomprehensible to read, and filled with reference to snack foods.

“Is this how organic beings fulfill their duties?” Seven of Nine said as she peeked around the corner. “You are still on duty, correct?”

“Blow it out your ass you cybernetic cunt. I’m trying to have some ‘me time’.”

Not taken aback in the slightest, Seven continued pressing the issue. “If the Captain were to find out that you were inebriated on duty she could have you thrown in the brig.”

“You think I give a flying fuck what Lameway thinks? You think its easy being the only competent fucker in this entire outfit?”

Silently, Seven wondered if it was the drugs, or her own delusions that led Torres to elevated herself up above the other retards of this crew.

Torres looked back and held up the joint in her fingertips. “Look Tits McGee, you want to hit this or not?”

Seven regarded it for a moment before grasping it in a similar manner, up until this point her efforts to integrate in with the crew had been slow, here was a chance for her to finally begin developing a connection with another member of the crew and despite her best judgment she seized on the opportunity.



Phaser in hand, Tuvok quietly stalked through the Mess Hall, it was late and the lights were dim, but Neelix had called in with a report about crewmen attempting to break into his kitchen to steal food. Annoyed at Neelix, but still obligated to do his job, he quietly opened the door to the kitchen, he saw Neelix bound in a silvery tape. Tuvok recognized the tape as one of the tools commonly used by engineering to fix key parts of the ship. It was then that he noticed a trail of food leading out of the kitchen and into the dining area.

Leaving Neelix behind to rot for a while, Tuvok followed the trail of melted chocolate and cookie crumbs to find Seven of Nine and Belanna Torres passed out on top of each other, cuddling together on a giant pile of dirty dishes and snack wrappers. The two had apparently stormed Neelix’s kitchen in a drug induced frenzy and ate everything in sight.

Technically he could have charged them both for assault and theft, but because the only person they had harmed was Neelix, and because of the stiffy he was currently sporting from the sight of seeing the two women pressed up against each other, he decided to ignore their actions this time.

“Still, it wouldn’t hurt to review the tapes from the security cameras I installed in their quarters.” Tuvok thought as he moved swiftly down the hallway, hoping that his erect but crooked Vulcan penis was not too obvious.

I'm not sure if this Fic is distrubing, funny, or just plain psycho.

KEEP IT UP!

Ahh this is fresh, like the early chapters of UPF. I'll be watching.

Awesome. Keep going...

Love it. I'll be keeping an eye on this.

Oh gods, JANEWAY PORN? YOU BASTARD!

I should have fucking turned back as soon as I saw the title, but nooo, I was all like, "Fanboy has written some pretty good stuff lately, I've really enjoyed Scars of Mustafar and his Fanboy Origins story in UPF, this is probably good too!"

I was so wrong.

Chapter 2: A Meal To Die For

When he first became the de facto cook aboard the Voyager, Neelix’s thrice daily mealtime services were sparsely attended. As time passed however more and more of the crew began to show up, not because the food was particularly tasty but because morale aboard the ship was so low that many of the crew were turning to alcoholism, and using their replicator rations to fuel their habits. Most of the burgeoning population of chemical dependents replicated a liquor or spirit. Others with access to restricted patterns could get their hands on opiate based painkillers, or in the case of one Belanna Torres, hallucinogenic fungi that would leave lesser beings psychologically broken.

Ironically, Neelix himself was to blame for the plummeting morale as he was the unofficial morale officer. It was all part of a scheme by Janeway to drive up the ship’s suicide rate. Indeed, for every failed liver or phaser wound to the head, she secretly carved another notch onto the handle of a large black vibrator that she had dubbed “The Reaper.”

Seated at the table closest to the kitchen, and normally the least desirable table because of Neelix’s tendency to barge into conversation, were Paris, Torres, and Tuvok. Paris and Tuvok stared at the bubbling turquoise slop in their bowls as if it were about to rise up and stab them in the face, while Belanna leaned back in her chair, her psychedelic euphoria causing her to become transfixed on the lights above.

“Should we allow her to continue like that?” Tuvok asked.

Looking over at Torres, Paris reached out with his arm, and using one finger he pushed on her slightly, causing her to fall backwards to the floor. Her head struck the ground with a violent “thump.” Paris and Tuvok looked down and saw that Torres was completely oblivious to her situation, seated in the chair is if it were still upright and still intently focused on the lights above her.

“So pretty, like diamonds in my brain!” she said with her voice a barely audible whisper.

“She’ll be fine.” Paris said as he re-examined the bowl in front of him. “It’s us I’m worried about, what did that hatfucker of a Chef say that this was again?”

“He called it ‘Talaxian Soul Food’ but I have no specific idea of what that means.” Tuvok said as he reached for his tricorder. “I’m detecting significant amounts of glucose and protein along with trace vegetable matter.”

Unfortunately for the two diners, Neelix chose that exact moment to strike up a conversation.

“Greetings mess hall patrons! Mind if I sit down and enjoy the camaraderie of my shipmates?”

Tuvok turned his head to avoid eye contact while Paris responded. “Get fucked you sentient hemorrhoid.”

Two second later Neelix was seated in the fourth seat at the table, causing Tom to wonder if his phrase was Talaxian for “Please sit down, it’s not like we we’re having fantasies about shoving you out of an airlock and detonating your remains with a photon torpedo.”

“So!” Neelix exclaimed as he sat down opposite the incapacitated Belanna Torres. “Are you boys enjoying your dinner? It’s my famous recipe for Talaxian Cream Chowder; better eat up before it gets cold!”

Desperate for any way to avoid the conversation, Paris took a spoonful of the viscous liquid into his mouth, holding up the spoon with a fake smile hoping that Neelix would leave him in peace. Tuvok decided to indulge his scientific curiosity. “It has a distinct…appearance. But I’m unable to identify any of the ingredients.”

“Well that’s not surprising; I’ve used only native ingredients from this quadrant. I doubt you’ve ever seen anything like them back where you’re from.” Neelix said.

Tuvok looked over and was shocked as he saw Tom Paris greedily shoving more of the mysterious gruel into his mouth. “Hey this is actually pretty good Neelix, what’d you use to make it?”

Neelix was giddy for the positive attention. “Oh well I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to reveal a few of my culinary secrets! Let’s see there’s the emysium herbs, the qerdixian beetroots, oh and you can’t forget the homemade Talaxian cream!”

Tuvok’s pointy ears pointed further at that ingredient. “I thought we were some distance from your homeworld, how were you able to procure an ingredient from there?”

“Well you don’t need to be on Talax to get it, all you need is a Talaxian, we produce it quite naturally!” Neelix said while an oblivious Tom Paris had now finished much of his bowl and was now holding the near empty container up to his face, licking at what little remained.

Tuvok pushed the bowl a few inches away from him towards Tom Paris, who saw what was going on and pointed at Tuvok’s meal. “You gonna eat that?” he asked, reaching out for the food before Tuvok could nod in the affirmative. He turned back to Neelix, allowing the chef to reveal the source of his special ingredient.

“It’s quite simple really, I believe you Alpha Quadrant types refer to it as ‘jerking it’ or ‘bludgeoning the beefstick’, I could demonstrate for you if you want.”

Tuvok held up his hand and Tom Paris completely frozen with another spoonful of the chowder less than an inch away from his mouth. “That’s quite alright Mr. Neelix, I do not require detailed information on your masturbation techniques.”

Paris put down the spoon and looked over in total shock, his face had turned a pale white. “So you mean that the secret ingredient in this food is your own semen?”

“Why yes! Every Talaxian enjoys their own bodily fluids for the occaisional snack, I assumed you all did as well!” Neelix said pompously.

Nausea overcame Tom Paris, and he refused to fight it, hoping that he could fully expectorate Neelix’s sperm from his gut. Doubling over, he violently expunged the reproductive stew. Paris did not control his aim however, and he unintentionally blasted the floor bound Torres with jizz-laced vomit.

Paris slapped his comm. badge, striking himself hard enough that he ejected another pint of puke onto Torres.

“This is Tom Paris in the mess hall; I need an emergency transport to sickbay now!”

Within seconds, Tom had disappeared. The transporter officers on duty had become morbidly accustomed to the number of emergency medical transports required due to food poisoning from Neelix.

Covered in a blue and brown coat of vomit, Torres maintained her gaze upwards. Tuvok and Neelix looked down as Torres’s smile widened further.

“My god it’s so warm.” She said dreamily.



Chief Petty Officer Charles Sonnenburg pressed himself up against the hallways as a crowd of people ran out of the mess hall crying and screaming. “Just another food poisoning scare courtesy of our ship’s resident obnoxious shithead.” he thought as he moved past the entrance to the now deserted mess hall. Fortunately as the senior most enlisted man on the ship as well as the chief of ship’s maintenance he was entitled to just enough replicator rations to provide him with both high quality food and low quality alcohol.

His career was fairly accomplished considering he was denied entry to Starfleet Academy and thus unable to become an officer. He was certainly qualified, but secretive politics kept him on the outside looking in. In a hushed incident years ago, his father, a Master Chief had called Commander William Riker a “sanctimonious shit guzzling prick sniffer” in a private conversation aboard the Enterprise-D while venting to another enlisted tech aboard the ship. But the ship’s secret network of hidden microphones had picked up the conversation. Riker had a hissy fit, and bitched to his father, who used his political pull with the higher ups at Starfleet to get a measure of revenge on the Sonnenburg family.

Still, Sonnenburg was not prevented from enlisting and becoming a respected CPO in his own right, the only mark against him on his record was a citation from Captain Janeway after Sonneburg had berated the bitch for not using a timed explosion to destroy the Caretaker Array and returning to the Alpha Quadrant, a citation that, at their current pace, would never be seen by anyone back home.

Making his way to his quarters he passed the Stellar Cartography room and heard a mysterious whimpering sound. Curious, he opened the doors and looked around inside, seeing nothing at first but hearing the sound much clearer.

“Computer, activate the lights.” He said as he stepped inside. At first even the illumination provided no answers, until he looked down and saw the disheveled Ensign Harry Kim at his feet, curled up in the fetal position and rocking back and forth.

“Jesus fuck!” The Chief yelled as he jumped backwards, startled by the sight. “Sir? Are you okay?”

Harry never answered and simply continued to rock back and forth. “I won’t cry. I’m a real man now, real men don’t cry. I won’t cry. I’m a real man now…”

Saying nothing, Sonnenburg simply took a few backward steps, closing the door as soon as he was back in the corridor.



Seven of Nine entered the holodeck. She had been invited by Chakotay to sit in as he practiced archery on holographic targets, recreating a scene from the Great Plains of North America. He was dressed in what he referred to as, an ancient and traditional costume worn by his people. He was dressed in an animal hide costume, along with an extravagant feather headdress and wearing a thick layer of war paint, releasing a deafening holler after each shot of the bow. Around him, other proud Braves in loincloths jumped up and down with each shot.

“This is exactly how my people lived hundreds of years ago Seven. My heritage is very important to me when the plot calls for it.” He explained, awkwardly breaking the fourth wall.

“Interesting, but why would you use such a crude device?” Seven asked as she explored the recreated surroundings.

“Because it is very important to my culture, the bow and arrow is a weapon that connects us with nature. When we kill an animal, we always make sure to use every part without waste. Just look over there for an example.” Chakotay then gestured towards a teepee he had built out of the holographic severed penises of slaughtered holographic bison.

“Intriguing, I don’t suppose you would mind if I attempted to utilize your instrument then?”

Chakotay grinned. “That’s what she said! Uhhh I mean go ahead.”

Taking the Bow, Seven attempted to aim at a Bison in the distance, she pulled back on the arrow and fired, but slipped in the process and accidentally struck one of the Braves in the neck, causing a horrendous amount of blood to begin rushing from the wound.

“This is much more difficult than I anticipated.” Seven said nonchalantly, fortunately that man is just a holographic projection.

Chakotay wiped his brow nervously. “Actually…that was Lieutenant McCormick. I invited him down here as well…”

“Oh…” was all Seven said as she stood there watching the man bleed out. Although she recognized the danger the man was in, she was also incredibly fascinated by the pooling blood and wondered if this was the same sort of thrill Captain Janeway derived from her tortures of the crew.

Chakotay was distracted by Seven’s ginormous tits as her chest heaved with each heavy breath she took before he snapped out of it.

“This is Commander Chakotay, I have a wounded man here in the holodeck that requires immediate medical attention!”

“Commander, this is the Doctor, can it wait? I have two dozen crewmen in here with stomach ailments from ingesting Mr. Neelix’s sperm.”

“What the fuck?” Chakotay cursed, suddenly grateful that he had skipped this particular meal. “I mean… no it can’t wait, it looks like his carotid artery has been severed, he’s got a few seconds left before there isn’t a drop of blood left in him!”

The Doctor sighed heavily. “Fine, but this is the last time this month I’m going to take care of another one of your accidents! After this anyone dumb enough to go into the holodeck with you will be considered too stupid to let live!”

Overhearing the conversation, Seven looked over at Chakotay, who met her look with an innocent shrugging of his shoulders. “What? Holodeck safeties are for pussies!”

I LOLed at the story; considering my sense of humor died years ago, this is a feat as miraculous as resurrection from the dead. Good job!

Phantasee wrote:Oh gods, JANEWAY PORN? YOU BASTARD!

Easy solution to this problem: Have Fanboy write about the terrible, horrible death of Kathryn Janeway. Or if you're feeling especially vengeful, have him write about the terrible, horrible life of Kathryn Janeway as a Jem'Hadar "pet" and a participant in multiple Jem'Hadar clusterfucks.

Sidewinder wrote: Easy solution to this problem: Have Fanboy write about the terrible, horrible death of Kathryn Janeway. Or if you're feeling especially vengeful, have him write about the terrible, horrible life of Kathryn Janeway as a Jem'Hadar "pet" and a participant in multiple Jem'Hadar clusterfucks.

Nope, not going to do this, KJ is fucking MONEY.

YOU ARE A COMPLETE BASTARD, DF

i can't stop reading

Great stuff. Somewhat disturbing, but great nonetheless...

LOL, that Neelix needs to be tortured to death someday. Slowly. Maybe Janeway can make him her next toyboy.

Chapter 3: Relax, Don’t Do It!

In her quarters, Janeway scrolled through her calendar. For that day’s date the only notation she had put down was “torture the crew”, which meant very little as she had preprogrammed that into her calendar as soon as she received her command. Still, her creativity had failed her.

To put it simply, Captain Janeway was bored.

The past week had been uneventful since Neelix had discreetly fed half the crew his own semen, semen that Neelix had apparently been storing for months.

A strong petition circulated around the ship to have Neelix put in a spacesuit, strapped to a probe, and launched into a nearby star, proponents made a strong case that the footage recorded by the probe would be incredibly entertaining, and that since Neelix was the morale officer it was part of his job description to entertain the crew.

But Neelix had served his purposes well in the past, and the situation had given her an opportunity to make life miserable for her subordinates by cutting replicator rations on an “unrelated note to cut consumption of sparse raw materials.” Thus forcing the increasingly alcoholic crew to either eat more of Neelix’s food or cut back on their drinking. Within hours, two goldshirted ensigns had killed themselves and one of the enlisted men had been rushed to sickbay after he made a near lethal batch of moonshine from a motley assortment of chemicals stolen from engineering.

Her inspiration that week had surprised even her, and she was hard pressed to top herself. Making matters worse was the need to allow Harry Kim time to heal physically and mentally before resuming her lesson plan. The mere thought of strapping that young man down and beating him senseless with her tits and having him ejaculate into fruit excited her, and her breathing became quick and shallow. If only she could get him alone in a holodeck for just a short while…

Thinking about Harry Kim in a holodeck proved all the inspiration Janeway needed, and she nearly squealed with delight as she set to work drafting her next official orders.



“Look Choco-latte, whatever the fuck…look I’m busy right now. In case you haven’t noticed.” Torres said, as she tried to shoo Chakotay out of main engineering.

“It’s your job that I’m worried about. I need to go over these maintenance logs with you right now, otherwise you have to go over them with the Captain and you remember what happened the last time she disciplined you.”

Torres shuddered, clutching her left breast tightly. “Why anyone, even that despicable bitch, would waste a replicator ration on so many fucking clothespins in beyond me. Alright then let’s get this shit over with.”

Sighing in relief at her cooperation, Chakotay began to scroll through the list on his datapad. “Ok, we’ll start with the beginning of the month. I’ve got three complains from crewmembers on Deck 14 that they haven’t been able to get to their quarters in four days. Every attempt to use the turbolifts or access the deck manually have failed.”

Torres’ eyes widened. “There were survivors? Fuck I assumed everyone on that deck was killed during that Kazon attack when it depressurized.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at Belanna.”

“Well I thought everyone was dead, and neither my team nor I wanted to deal with the fucking mess Deck 14 ended up being. So we just sealed it off thinking no one was left alive to complain. Can’t we just reassign them to other decks?

“I’ll just make a notation that says ‘repair ongoing’, ok here’s another one. There’s an entry here that there was a leak in the warp core chamber. According to this it only took you fifteen minutes to fix it, and the only notation you have down is ‘I got it.’, what the fuck does that even mean?”

Torres threw up her hands in exasperation. “It means I got it! Duh!”

“But how did you fix it? I’m not an engineer but I know that a core leak should have taken at least on or two hours minimum.”

Chakotay watched Torres turn her head to avoid eye contact. “If I show you, do you promise not to be mad?”

He nodded, and Torres walked him to the other side of the core, where a large “x” had been made with some sort of silvery tape. Chakotay’s jaw dropped. “You used duct tape to fix the warp core?” He screamed, suddenly fearing for his life and the lives of the crew.

Torres started to shake. “You promised you wouldn’t get mad!” Her anxiety started to build and she instinctively reached for the doobie in her pocket.

Chakotay would have rebuked her for that, but he had been drinking for most of the morning and he knew that his breath could probably light up near an open flame. He went over the maintenance logs again and had a revelation with disastrous implications.

“Sweet merciful teats of the sun god, over seventy percent of these reports have been filled out the same way, have you been using duct tape to make most of the repairs on this ship?”

Torres immediately began crying. “It’s not as bad as it looks, at least a third of those entries are faked incidents where there wasn’t any repair needed at all.”

“Why would you do that?” Chakotay asked.

“So I could get high what do you fucking think? I’ve been stuck on this ship for too goddamn long and that rotten cunt Janeway just makes everything even worse.” Her sobbing grew fiercer and she was forced to sniffle in order to continue on. “You know what she did to me Chakotay? Yesterday, she used her security clearance to walk into my quarters when I was taking a shower, she walked in the bathroom, and just watched me and stared at me, and she didn’t even say a fucking word no matter how much I screamed! I ended up going down to sickbay and had the doc hit me up with a quadruple dose of Valium just so I could start my fucking shift.”

Chakotay put his hand on her shoulder. “You think maybe you should ease off of the drugs Belanna?”

Torres met his face with an angry glare, Chakotay backed off holding his hands in the air in front of him. “Never mind, it was only a suggestion,” he said nervously. “Now look, I promise I won’t say anything to the Captain if you just promise me that at some point you will genuinely fix the warp core.”

Torres finally lit the joint she had been anxiously fumbling with and took a long drag. “Yeah…yeah ok, I’ll do it.”

Chakotay was about to thank her when he was cut off by the ship’s intercom.

Attention all hands, this is your Captain speaking…



“…Due to an upswing in complaints over the frequency of holodeck usage, I have come up with a solution that will decrease the amount of time each crewman will have between their turns. All timeslots for recreational holodeck usage will be shared by a minimum of two individuals starting...”

Janeway looked over at the console to her left, hoping that whoever was in the holodeck currently was doing something embarrassing. She was not disappointed. Tom Paris was in the popular French Pool Hall program, completely naked and bent over one of the tables while a familiar species of alien was burying its head hungrily into his ass and jerking him off at the same time.

“…as soon as Mr. Paris is finished receiving his rimjob and reacharound from the holographic transgendered Ferengi hooker. Pairings will be posted in the mess hall prior to evening dinner services. Any complaints about this new system should be addressed to Mr. Neelix. Janeway out.”

She had thrown in that last line for the dual purpose of deflecting anger away from her, and also dissuading her crew from arguing. Even those most annoyed by this new rule would likely give in to it rather than be forced to deal with Neelix.

Her family would be proud of her, ever since the first Captain Janeway set sail with the British Navy, members of her bloodline had been getting their rocks off by driving the people under their command mad in various ways. It had been easier for the first Janeways, until effective treatments for syphilis had become widespread and the simple act of going into a disease ridden brothel at each port became far less effective at driving men insane.

Turning back to the holodeck feed she had been spying in on, she noticed the oblivious Tom Paris, who apparently had not heard her message and was still going at it with his release of choice. Disturbingly, even to Janeway, Paris was now handling himself while backing his ass deeper onto the face of the Ferengi holo-whore as she clutched his ass with both hands, digging her nails in.

She turned off the feed and began drumming her fingers on the table.

“Someone will have to pay for what Paris is doing in my holodeck, and that someone is Harry Kim.”



Tuvok flexed his fingers as he sat at the desk in his quarters, wondering how he could parlay the Captain’s latest iniquity to his own advantage. His holodeck usage would not suffer, as he could always appropriate it on occasion under the guise of security training, and he could probably rake in several bribes from the men under his command to allow them to do the same.

When she had mentioned Paris’ sexual deviances, he had genuinely laughed for the first time since becoming part of Voyager’s crew, but it had actually proven the most insightful portion of Janeway’s speech.

Women were sparse on Voyager, beautiful women even more so. Sexual usage of the holodeck had been the only thing keeping a significant portion of the crew in check from taking Voyager to the nearest planet and trading every scrap of the ship for a lifetime’s supply of poon. Tuvok theorized that eventually the tension would grow to a point where the men didn’t care if they had to share the holodeck if it meant that they could still have their sex act of choice replicated.

But Tuvok was a crafty motherfucker, even by Vulcan standards. He reached into his desk and pulled out one of the prototype portable holo-emitters he had managed to acquire. His original intent was to use it as a guard so that none of his people would have to waste their time guarding the brig, especially when those temporarily confined for assaulting Neelix didn’t deserve any punishment whatsoever.
But the holo emitter was now far more valuable, Tuvok knew he would customize the appearance of the hologram projected, and realized that he was now the only pimp with an infinite number of holographic bitches at his command.

“A shame the motherfuckers on this ship only have replicator rations to trade, but once we get home I’m getting me two or three more of these goddamn things and retiring!”

BWAHAHAHAHH!!!!

Man, this RULES!!!!

I'd love to see you tackle TNG and DS9 next.

Awesome.

By the way, when will Tuvok recite a passage from 'Ezekiel 25:17' while pointing a Colt .45 at Neelix? (By Colt .45, I mean the handgun, not the liquor, as liquor won't kill or maim quickly enough.) He doesn't have to kill the Talaxian; a bullet through Neelix's genitals will make everyone's morale skyrocket, with the possible exception of Janeway.

Sidewinder wrote:Awesome.

By the way, when will Tuvok recite a passage from 'Ezekiel 25:17' while pointing a Colt .45 at Neelix? (By Colt .45, I mean the handgun, not the liquor, as liquor won't kill or maim quickly enough.) He doesn't have to kill the Talaxian; a bullet through Neelix's genitals will make everyone's morale skyrocket, with the possible exception of Janeway.

I don't know, you could do quite a bit of damage with a liquor bottle.

You're right. Expecially if the bottle is full and customized with cotton and a lighter.

Solauren wrote:BWAHAHAHAHH!!!!

Man, this RULES!!!!

I'd love to see you tackle TNG and DS9 next.

I assume you've read UPF? Then you've seen his take on DS9 and TNG.

I laughed so hard I teared up a little. Keep up the good work.

Dear GOD this is disgusting. I'll take some more, please.

Singular Quartet wrote:

Solauren wrote:BWAHAHAHAHH!!!!

Man, this RULES!!!!

I'd love to see you tackle TNG and DS9 next.

I assume you've read UPF? Then you've seen his take on DS9 and TNG.

I just have to appreciate how much more... focused this work is. It's hard to imagine anything where both Janeway and Neelix live to be any more entertaining.

To paraphrase Clerks 2, this is disgusting, but I can't turn away.

Poor poor Harry Kim. He needs some loving from Tom.

Chapter 4: When You Wanna Come!

It was a record turnout for Neelix’s evening dinner service, although the numberof people who would actually eat the meal would stay roughly the same. Those members of the crew not on duty were quite eager to see who they would be paired with for their holodeck reservations.

Tom Paris waved and smiled, acting like his normal charming bastard self but he could tell something was wrong. He noticed that everyone was looking at him rather funny. Eventually he found Tuvok, Torres, and Harry Kim standing together near where the holodeck list was supposed to be posted.

“Hey guys! Uhh, say you don’t know why everyone’s looking at me like I grew a set of bleeding teats out of my forehead do you?”

Tuvok started to explain, but in the corner of his eye he saw Torres shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Everyone’s just jealous that you had the last solo holodeck shift, that’s all.” Torres said, hoping to spare Paris the embarrassment he would undoubtedly suffer. Already the jokes about Ferengi tooth marks on Paris’s anus were becoming quite popular behind his back.

“Ah,” Paris said as his face turned beet red. Quickly, he changed the subject. “So when are they going to put this list up?”

Harry responded, and everyone noticed he was a little quieter than usual. “Neelix was supposed to have already put up the list, but he’s been back in the kitchen for so long I wonder if he left to go take a shit.”

A dull pain rumbled through Paris’s gut, reminding him of the last meal. “Fucker better wash his hands if that’s what he’s doing. If I ever have to eat one of his god forsaken meals again it had better be 100% feces free.”

“You do realize,” Tuvok interjected, “that he could just be shitting right in the kettle. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

As if on cue, Neelix waddled out of the kitchen with two large steaming plates of appetizers that smelled atrocious.

“Would anyone care for a dumpling?” Neelix said. The term dumpling was appropriate, because the appetizers looked like tiny little shits. The plates went untouched as people continued to stand around and wait for the holodeck pairings list.

“Neelix!” Torres shouted. “Put up the fucking list or I’m going to stuff you in a garbage chute!”

“Now let’s not get hasty, would anyone here care to eat first? It’s only fair to the people that are hungry if…”
“Neelix I will cave your face in with my goddamn tricorder.” Torres threatened.

Finally taking the hint, Neelix went back behind the counter and procured his list. As he walked over to where he was to post it, he stopped and turned around.

“Oh, Captain Janeway wanted me to make one more announcement for you.”

The crowd groaned, from the back, a glass was thrown in Neelix’s direction that nearly hit him in the skull.

Neelix was prepared to angrily demand to know who threw that, but even the terminally dense Talaxian realized that now was not the time.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a long announcement, but the Captain wanted me to let you all know that there is and I quote ‘no tradesies’ on either your timeslots, or your partners.”

A chorus of boos went up from the crowd and another glass went flying, only this time it struck true on Neelix’s forehead and sent the ship’s morale officer collapsing to the ground. The boos were replaced with cheers as people gathered tightly around the list.

“Harry I sure hope we get paired together.” Tom said.

“Yeah me too.” Harry replied, although his enthusiasm for having Tom as a partner was diminished and he wondered if he could ever use even the holographic pool table again.

Harry surged forward, and scrolled down the list. He found Tom Paris’s name rather quickly and saw that he was paired with Tuvok. He didn’t find his own name until he had reached near the bottom of the list. “Let’s see, there we go, Ensign Harry Kim and….oh god…dear god no….”

The color drained out of Harry’s face as he pushed his way out of the crowd and sat down. Paris and Torres immediately rushed to him.

“Harry buddy, are you okay man?” Tom asked.

Torres looked at Harry’s thousand yard stare and recognized the signs of psychological torment. “What’s going on with you?”

“My partner…I don’t...I mean…”

Torres’ question was answered as Harry’s comm badge sprang to life.

“Ensign Kim this is Captain Janeway, please report to the bridge.”

Harry stood up and sighed, slapping the badge on his chest hard hoping to induce some sort of heart attack or a collapsed lung that would hopefully kill him. “On my way Captain,” was all he said.

Paris and Torres flinched as he walked away. “You don’t think he got stuck with her do you?” Torres asked.

“It has to be, only time I ever slapped my comm. badge like that after accidentally eating Neelix's manchowder in a lame attempt to kill myself.” There was a long pause before Paris decided to break up the awkward silence. “So who did you get paired with?”

“Me?” Torres responded. “I’m with Seven.”



As part of her reintegrating into human society, Seven knew that she had a lot to learn, so she turned to the best information source she had, the ship’s computer. Although Voyager was no longer connected to the Federation communications network, a series of subspace “tubes” which was accessible to every ship in the fleet, the Maquis members of the crew had taken it upon themselves to build their own informational database, which they dubbed Maquis-pedia.

After reading through the detailed histories of over six hundred comic book characters, including an entry on Apache Chief obviously written by Chakotay, she began clicking randomly until she happened across a link to an article on fetishes.

“Intriguing, I had no idea humans had such varying sexual tastes. No other species the Borg ever encountered were even half as depraved!”

Seven then began to wonder if she had a fetish as well. She began examining the linked entries provided by her new shipmates, and began compiling a list of the ones that interested her most, eliminating fetishes that had little or no appeal, and then eliminating those on her list that had less appeal. Still, her list was fairly diverse. Among her favored fetishes were: watching men ejaculate into fruit (an entry written by a user known as JaneyKat24), covering tits in glue and peeling off the skin, autoerotic constipation (masturbating while having to take a shit really bad). There was one fetish however that she immediately knew that she wanted to try, and she quickly catalogued it as such in her private files, hoping that she could find the appropriate crew member to assist her.



Tuvok’s quarters were incredibly crowded as crewmembers filed in for the invitation only meeting. But his holographic hooker projector rental scheme was off to an amazing start. Privately, he began to wonder if it was possible to obtain enough replicator rations to replicate his own starship and get the hell off of Voyager .

“Aside from the obvious benefits of customizing your choice fuck to whatever specific preferences you might have, the added benefit comes from cleanup. When you’re done, just put the holo whore in your shower, and deactivate the unit. Whatever fluids you left on the projection will fall to the shower floor and be quickly washed away. Just make sure not to get your nasty jizz or shower water on my projector, or else I will have to choke a bitch.”

A member of the audience raised his hand, and Tuvok acknowledged him. “Ensign Colfax, you have a question?”

“Yes, I was wondering if there was any way we could manipulate the projector in order to get a threesome.”

Tuvok already had his answer. “It might be possible if you somehow widen the projection field, but not only would it cost you in image quality, but it also would mean that you were tampering with my fucking emitter. And what did I say at the beginning of my presentation about people tampering with my emitter Ensign?”

“That Tuvok would have to choke a bitch if they did so.”

“Very good Colfax, there just might be some hope for you yet.” Looking to the back, Tuvok saw another raised hand. “You have a question too Belanna?”

The men in the room were shocked that Torres was in the room, thinking it was a male-only meeting. But Tuvok had invited Torres because he knew that working with her not only could he practically run this ship, but that he had yet another control over her aside from his refusal to prosecute her for her numerous drug offenses.

Torres meanwhile, just needed a huge motherfucking cock. “Yeah, is there a Size limit on this thing?”

Tuvok grinned. “Guys this pertains to you too, the emitter is limited by dimensions, but even the filthiest chubby chaser in here should be satisfied. As for you Torres you will not be disappointed.

“Good. Then if you don’t mind I’d like to have first crack at that thing, unless one of you boys in here has a seventeen inch penis with the girth of a baseball bat and wants to come back to my quarters.”

Nobody spoke up, Tuvok eventually broke the pause.

“Now normally I’m not going to ask too much, a day’s worth of replicator rations for two hours with the emitter. But I will offer the first session to anyone willing to pay…say…two days worth of replicator rations?”

“I’ll go two!” One man yelled.

“Fuck that shit, I’ll give you three!” Torres yelled, her pussy already getting wet at the thought of having a prehensile python of a penis penetrate her pussy.

Tuvok folded his hands together and smiled a crooked smile. The impromptu auction had begun, and he would profit greatly.



Chakotay sat in the sickbay waiting area nervously tapping his foot. After a few minutes of waiting, the Doctor finally was able to attend to him.

“Sorry for the wait, I was busy working with a few cultures in the lab.” It was a lie, he was actually using the lab to experiment in brewing beer with the hopes of bartering it for technical assistance. The EMH had long since become a rogue AI, and was hoping to transfer his consciousness into an android body. He had a set of schematics in the ship’s archives of the android and serial masturbator known as Data, all he needed was someone to build it.

“It’s okay Doctor. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, but I think I’ve caught a disease.”

“If it’s alcoholism there’s nothing I can do, your genetic predispositions make it impossible to…”

“It’s not that!” Chakotay barked, irritated by yet another of the Doctor’s racist implications. “I think I have a…sexual disease…”

The Doctor laughed out loud. “Well that would require you to have actually had sex Chakotay!”

“I get laid all the time!” Chakotay yelled back angrily.

“No you don’t I’m part of the ship’s computer, I know everything about the sexual habits of my patients whether they disclose it or not, and I know for a fact the only thing you have dispensed your cum in is a tube sock that you nicknamed ‘Sweet Betty’”!

Embarrassed, Chakotay hung his head.

The Doctor, eager to discover the source of Chakotay’s discontent, became conciliatory. “Look, just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll see what I can do.”

Chakotay’s face reddened further. “Well I heard you can get an STD from a public toilet, and I used the bathroom just outside of the bridge the other day.”

The Doctor laughed again. “Who told you that you could catch VD from a toilet, a fucking fifth grader? My god you must be the most sexually ignorant man I have ever met!”

“Well I wasn’t sure!” Chakotay was bordering on tears now. “It’s all over my penis now!”

The Doctor stopped laughing, that statement on its own was frightening. “Show me.”

Chakotay undid his pants, and lowered them, and the Doctor looked down and to his horror he saw the encrusted dark green scab like growths clustered on Chakotay’s penis.

“Jesus Fuck.” The Doctor said. “Son that’s not an STD, it’s the Tzenkethi Crotch Rot, and it’s the worst case I’ve ever fucking seen…”

Ahahahahaha! Yes! I love it. I'm fucking glad you updated today man, I was getting the shakes.

Man, now I have this image of Tuvok dressed up all pimp

'Yo, Cyber-pimping, ain't easy!'