Vulcan Love Slave update (Patreon)

Clinging to T’Pol as if for support, Seven made it to a bed inside. It gave under her body, the mattress liquid and sensuous, rolling below her like it was as alive as her and T’Pol. Seven’s nostrils flared and she bit her lip with the fierce struggle in her mind. Countless feelings stirred inside her, making it hard to sort out what she was truly feeling. She was confused, frightened, excited, but coming to the forefront was always the same strong feeling of hunger. A new, overwhelming hunger.

She was hot. She was unspeakably hot. Her own passion seared her taut flesh, burning deep within her wet cunt. It was all wrong, far too overpowering for something she’d never felt before, impacting her too much, throwing all her decision-making off-kilter and… and…

T’Pol’s hands fondled her plump breasts, sharp teeth nipping at her throat. The Vulcan’s touch was roaming, caressing, one bold hand going down to the damp hair of Seven’s pubis, the other rolling over Seven’s hip and thigh. Seven of Nine felt helpless before those knowing touches. They made her feel things she was totally unprepared for.

And before she knew it, Seven was reveling in the silky skin touching her own, the kisses T’Pol rained down on her warm flesh. She dared to put her arms around T’Pol’s slender body; it felt like she was embracing a flame in the shape of the woman.

A part of Seven’s mind insisted that this was not real, that she was wasting time on an illusion that would have, could have, no effect on the real world. But her body refused to listen. She felt her lean belly sliding avidly against T’Pol’s.

“Mmm… such lovely tits,” T’Pol moaned. “They’re as big as mine… would it seem egotistical to comment on how wonderfully sculpted they are?”

The way T’Pol’s voice lapsed from passionate entreaty to a kind of logic further muddied Seven’s reasoning. She tried to respond in kind even as her body screamed. “Perfection is perfection. There is no equivocation simply because it can be found in others as well as one’s self.”

“Well-spoken… but the best way to appreciate tits like these isn’t with words…”

Seven of Nine gasped as the Vulcan kissed her nipples, and she hadn’t begun to process that feeling before T’Pol’s finger was working its way into the moist lips of her vagina. T’Pol closed her warm lips around Seven’s nipple and she arched her back in instant response. The feeling was out of all proportion to the physical fact of what T’Pol was doing—much more than mere stimulation—it was like feedback, something Seven’s body was doing to itself, a chemical reaction of T’Pol’s effect on her and her own desire.

Seven had never felt someone mouth her breasts like this, but she knew it couldn’t possibly have felt like this if they had—T’Pol’s kisses so deft and lasciviously, sparking such electric passion inside her receptive body.

She writhed on the finger pushing inside of her and T’Pol pursued her willingness, prodding at the hood of her clit to tease out the feelings there. Seven of Nine closed her eyes, giving up her inhibitions, allowing the response filling her body to take over. She didn’t know what to do—apparently her body did. She would only try to… savor… what was happening as much as possible.

T’Pol’s mouth slid down her body, tingling tongue like an ember being traced over her rib cage, then down to her quaking belly.

“I like your pussy,” T’Pol murmured. “The hair is rich… fine… beautiful. And underneath, you’re steaming. Boiling.”

T’Pol’s heated breath stirred her pubic thatch, making Seven jerk uncontrollably. Then she felt the flickering touch of the Vulcan’s tongue. Seven outright spasmed, but T’Pol’s hands firmly gripped her thighs, holding them apart to allow her tongue to dip through her golden down and into Seven’s vulva.

A shockwave spread through Seven of Nine’s body, strong and inexorable, making her gasp, even pant. There was simply no preparing herself for what she felt, kept feeling with each passing moment. Her cunt convulsed hard enough for Seven to wonder if something were wrong, then she felt T’Pol’s tongue delve through her labia.

She outright moaned, never having felt anything like what the Vulcan’s tongue did inside her pulsating cunt, never even imagined the sensual, spiraling thrills that shot up from the contact of their two bodies.

With her own moan, T’Pol shoved her lovely face between Seven’s legs, forcing her mouth over Seven’s clenching pussy and sucking—oh God, sucking. Colors flashed before Seven of Nine’s eyes. She keened through clenched teeth, trying to express the inexpressible. Seven felt a pang of denial; this couldn’t be happening to her, she couldn’t be feeling anything this immense.

But she was. Her entire straining body was glorying in what she was feeling, thrashing and heaving, and her nipples were so rigid that they were pounding fiercely, almost causing her pain. Seven’s thighs closed together, feeling out the brunette head between them, while T’Pol’s hands fondled the luscious globes of Seven’s ass.

Ass, she thought—not anything else, but her ass, and the crude simplicity of the word felt good—a brute honesty to go with the savagery of the feeling.

Seven of Nine rolled her hips and thrust her pelvis, forcing her cunt harder against the eagerly tasting mouth that was attacking her so greedily. T’Pol’s tongue licked and stroked, hot as a branding iron inside the satin folds of Seven’s pussy, and Seven luxuriated in each wave of feeling that flooded out of her penetrated sex.

The Vulcan woman was only a simulation, only a cleverly executed collection of data and subroutines, but she fooled Seven’s body expertly, driving her mad with rapture. Perhaps the self-indulgent nature of the fantasy added to its appeal—the venal knowledge that Seven had no partner to please or disappoint, only her own urges to satisfy, gave her free rein to set aside doubts and worries.

If anything happened that she didn’t like, that struck her as an error in judgment, she could end the program, or even simply rewind it as if the offending incident had never happened. With such godlike control over her own satiation, it was no wonder many found themselves addicted to the Holodeck.

Seven might simply find herself addicted to sex, though. The exact nature of the pleasure seemed unimportant compared to how ecstasy thrilled through her pussy, oh yes, through her cunt!

T’Pol moaned into Seven’s churning sex and Seven of Nine coiled her thighs around the Vulcan’s head, imprisoning her, trying to pull her tighter and tighter to her flaming cunt, as if she could get even more of this lascivious feeling.

T’Pol licked her way to Seven’s vibrant clit and played with it like a newly given toy, making Seven buck wildly. When the Vulcan pulled Seven’s clit into her mouth and suckled it, Seven felt like she’d gone completely insane.

White-hot heat thundered inside her seething body, her pussy drawing into a tight fist of need. With her taut abs standing out from her belly and her back arching, Seven of Nine twisted as though impaled on the ravenous tongue inside her. She cried out with wordless bliss and dug her fingernails into T’Pol’s soft hair, pumping and rolling her hips shamelessly against the Vulcan’s mouth, her tongue, her teeth, all the devilish feelings that sprung from what T’Pol was doing to her pussy.

It was marvelous. Seven’s body convulsed and her cunt spasmed. She went into a frenzy of grinding desire, passionate contractions, moaning and gasping like she could not get breath fast enough to let out the cries she was making. There had never been anything like this in Seven’s existence, nothing so deliciously beautiful, and she let herself go limp rather than even try to control how she was wracked by her tremendous climax.

Dimly, her mind registered that T’Pol had taken her adoring mouth away from her pussy. Seven felt more relief than deprivation—she didn’t know if she could take any continuation of her pleasure.

Then she felt the Vulcan kissing a slow, tantalizing path up her supine body and immediately corrected herself. She was ready for more. Only she couldn’t move. Not even when T’Pol’s soft, warm lips came to a heaving breast and covered its tip, slippery tongue idly tasting the flavor of her aching nipple.

Seven stirred, slowly coming back to cognizance as T’Pol kissed the feelings out of first one swollen breast, then the other. The blonde reached out herself now, caressing T’Pol’s sleek body, her fingers discovering the silken feel of her flawless complexion and the shaping of her delectable figure.

Then T’Pol’s mouth was on Seven’s, T’Pol’s tongue entering the space of Seven’s. Seven of Nine took it happily, even as it occurred to her that she was being given a taste of her own orgasm. Her pulse raced at the thought and she found herself sucking on the Vulcan’s tongue, thinking that it was this encounter in a microcosm. She was experiencing both another woman and herself in a way she’d never done before.

T’Pol pulled herself away from Seven’s body and quickly stripped away her gauzy robe, leaving herself bare, the sun outside silhouetting the perfection of T’Pol’s physique, casting shadows along the curves of her voluptuous body. Seven found herself breathless, affected more than ever by the stark beauty of T’Pol—and the majestic sexuality, the promise of pleasure, that she knew her body held.

“You are flawless,” she intoned worshipfully.

T’Pol smiled ferally—not a display of emotion, but a predator knowing that it had its prey—or a Vulcan, her mate.