"T'Khasian Bedtime Tales"

presented by Kitausu-dvinsu T'Aitlu and Salatrel

To their Task Master to honour the Birth of Spock

Greywolf has discovered once again a forgotten corridor in the TOS Building. It is deep within the deepest part of the basement and accessible only during Blue Moons. He sniffs the last of his stash wondering for the third time if this will be worth the exchange.

He comes to the heavy ornately carved doors and glances at the sign above the door. "Yep, this is the place." He places his hand against the ident-panel and is gained admittance to the room.

Inside the room is filled with every sort of species but all of the female persuasion and all are eagerly typing away. A hooded figure approaches him and in a low voice asks if he is seeking a particular genre.

"K/S. Is there anything else?" He grins and moans and scratches himself. Just thinking about the Boys begins his arousal.

"I am Vorik. This way." Vorik leads him to a room that is covered floor to ceiling with every erotic drawing this specialist artist has to offer. He is offered a large armchair. Beverage of his chosing and his offering is accepted.

Salatrel and T'Aitlu are working feverishly and gleefully pounding away on the terminals. Selek, our taskmaster commands us to work faster, harder and longer!!

"We have to make up for the lost time during the selekus interuptus."

"He is a wonderful task master is he not?" T'Aitlu says to Salatrel.

"Ladies, please. Desist the chatting. You have been able to put me off with your warm feet mission... but no more." Crack goes the wet towel snapping the air just above their heads.

Over the door in the Ancient script is a sign that reads: Treksmut University Sweatshop. The air is filled with the aroma of sandalwood. Three hooded figures pace the floor instilling a sense of urgency into the work these females create with the formation of carefully placed words and punctuation marks. Their skill is high but can not equal those of the Virha JK of Earth.

The tall imposing figure stops behind one of his kitau-dvinsu (writing servants) and grunts. He tosses back one side of his tan cape over his shoulder and makes a sound of approval. He straightens then checks the other's work. In a low deep voice he gives her the clipped commands to correct her work.

"Vulcans do not begin sentences with conjuctions." He lifts his hand to brush back his long black hair, tucking it behind elegantly pointed ears. He has been pleased with the choices he has made and found it quite simple to recruit and imprison these two for his own devices. He requires his daily dose of a highly erotic and deviant needs.

Taurik notes a slight slowing down in one of the workers. He pulled out the silk rope, raps it around his hands then moves to the side of Salatrel. He brushes her face with the silk and his hand. "Work harder, Kitausu, or you will not be pleasured as you have requested." His voice is low and soft and causes her to shiver.

Salatrel gasps. She has been chosen! The one request that she has continually submitted has always been the same. This must mean that with the completion of this story she will have reached her one hundredth.

"Yes, S'haile Tauvik." She sighs as the silken touch then returns to work at a fevered pace.

T'Aitlu sits back then taps a few keys then withdraws the storage disc. She reaches for her drink but a leather riding crop stops her action. She looks up to the owner.

"You have finished?" Selek demands.

"Yes." She offers the storage disc to him. "For your approval, S'haile Selek." She bows her head respecting his position, while hoping to improve her standing.

Selek moves to inspect Salatrel's work but once again finds careless errors. He lifts her chin with the hard handle of the riding crop and repeats to her the necessity to correct the errors as she works. This saves time and quickens the enjoyment of the work.

Salatrel whispers her understanding and wets herself.

T'Aitlu reassures her after Selek leaves and tells her not to be afraid of the TaskMaster. Salatrel explains that it is not from fear that she has wet herself but from the pure joy and excitement in being treated in this fashion. Her dream is at last being fulfilled!!

There is a low growl that begins then grows to fill the ancient halls. Vorik taps one of the younger less experienced girls on the shoulder and sends her to get the scented water, cloth and instucts her how to assist Greywolf. "He must not leave here with any evidence of his pleasure."

There is a small squeal of pleasure from one of the girls. Vorik moves quickly through the ranks then stops at one desk. He is surprised that it is Salatrel. "This squeal has a purpose?"

She nods a few times. "I have finished, S'haile Vorik. Spell checked. Double-spaced."

"Is it pleasurable?" Vorik lifted one eyebrow as he bent down to read the story. He slowed the screens roll at a few points. He drew in a breath at another then hummed with satisfaction at the end. "Very well." Vorik scanned the room for his superior. He found him and moved through the desks to him.

They spoke in whispers then Vorik bowed his head and headed back to Salatrel. He fell on one knee at her side, his head bowed to her. "My brother and myself are at your service, T'sai Salatrel."

She shivered. "Both of you..." She breathed the words as she felt her body shiver again. She followed Tauvik's path as he headed towards her holding a scroll. Her scroll! He joined his brother then handed her the tube of paper.

"Is this your pleasure or do you wish it to change?" He asked softly.

Salatrel was speechless. She unrolled her scroll and read the words she had written long ago. One hundred stories ago. "Yes!"

"It will be our honour to serve." They stated in unison.

Salatrel could not believe her good fortune. She had earned the privilege of both men. When she was first noticed by Selek, and brought to the chambers, she was told to name her reward. When presented with these tasty offers, she found that she could not choose.

"Why choose?" Suggested Laura Valentine as she emerged from the shadows. "Take both!"

No woman had ever chosen two Vulcans to mate with before.... it was unheard of!

"I am Romulan." She stated with pride as she left with the two.

Selek picked up the disc and placed it in the reader. He walked and read the story that was just finished by Salatrel. It was good and worthy of her request. He stopped his movement as he read the 'good part' and a faint sigh was heard from him. He flicked off the reader then continued. "She has possibilities," he muttered to himself.

As for the choice that T'Aitlu had made....

Task Master Selek held the scroll. He unrolled the paper then read it silently. An eyebrow lifted. "You are positive?"

"Yes, S'haile."

He thought about for a moment. "Very well."

Her choice, three simple words... "Vulcan Body Rub"

In a far off room the scent of almond oil and sandalwood mixed and warm Vulcan hands kneaded the cooler Human flesh, a moan was heard.

"You have served me well, T'Aitlu."

"It is my honour to serve, S'haile."

And so it was in the world that was one with the true order of erotica and smut. The Task Master Selek is said to be there still. The Mirror World holds this place most high. And every time the Earth's sky is graced with the Moon of Blue... a chamber deep within one world disappears and travels to the other.... for one night... for one pleasure and then moves on. For every one hundred stories conceived and written by their own hand, each writer is honoured with the pleasure of *her* choice. A pleasure that is of her own devising and carried out with the one of her choosing.

Do you dare to answer the call....

Finis

Comments cheerfully accepted at [email protected]