Star Trek: Theurgy

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Transporter Room 4 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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It had been so long since his last one that Alistair had forgotten the happy buzz of excitement that preceded a date. All day, even as he dabbled in such trivial tasks as realigning EPS flows, assigning holodeck time and designing a pan-galactic contradimensional temporal defence network, his mind kept drifting to his evening plans. Few things focused the mind and buzzed the spirit so much as the prospect of a date with a beautiful woman in the immediate future.

Still, as Alistair stepped into the shower and turned on the water (rank had its privileges onboard the Theurgy), he mused on how odd it felt. By rights, it shouldn't. Enyd was an engaging woman, chaotic and magnetic in equal measure, and Alistair wanted to see more of her. She had driven him slightly (well, more than slightly) up the wall when they first met, to be sure, but it was hard to deny how darn enjoyable their brief encounter had been. Regardless, it still felt...odd, as if he was being yanked in another direction by some unseen force. It was strangely unsettling, although in a perverse way, it only made the forthcoming date seem even more exciting.

Standing beneath the jet of water, steam rising around his body, Alistair sighed, resolving to work out his own confusion later. Tonight he was going to enjoy himself, darn it, and so would Enyd. Thinking about her, he found himself grinning like an idiot as he got dressed in a simple crimson shirt and some black pants. The shirt sleeves were long and the only the top button undone, enough that Alistair felt good about his appearance. He looked hot, damn it, and he was enjoying every second of it!

Thinking about what awaited on the planet surface, Alistair was smiling all the way to the transporter room. The transporter operator took one look at him, grinned and gave him an appreciative thumbs up as the two men waited for Enyd to arrive.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Transporter Room 4 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd shook her head as she finished brushing her hair. She still hadn’t decided if she loved or hated Qo’Nos. Logically, the Klingon homeworld was no different than Earth in how it held memories of both the delightful and less-so varieties, but that didn’t stop her illogical musings. In a week, she’d been nearly killed a handful of times and yet had also received her first kiss in years and had been able to grow closer to a slew of new friends. Giving a non-committal shrug, finished buttoning the dress sleeves at her wrists before spritzing her favorite floral perfume on her neck. Stepping back, Enyd twisted and turned in front of the mirror to give herself one last once over.

Alistair had finally given her an official invitation for the “follow-up,” and Enyd had been glad for it. With so much going on in her life that required serious thought, she needed time spent with people who made her feel like a five-year-old. Her chosen dress (https://theviraler.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/49-hot-pictures-of-gene-tierney-will-have-you-glued-to-your-screen-best-of-comic-books-10.jpg) for their outing was an antique-looking black floral patterned lace over pink silk. Long sleeves buttoned neatly around the wrists emphasized her delicate bone structure. A deep v cut through the mandarin-style collar of the fitted blouse, falling nearly to her belly button, but made tasteful with sheer material shielding her ivory skin from direct view. The skirt of the dress fell to just below her knees, where the pink ruffles of her petticoat peeked out beneath the black lacy pleats of the skirt whenever she twirled. She wore sheer hose with a single seam running up the back of her legs, directing the line of sight to her pink and black strappy high-heels. She’d combed her hair to the side but left it loose, figuring less attention on her ears while on the planet could be helpful considering the previous week's events.

Enyd’s smiling lips briefly dipped into a thoughtful frown as she recalled her kidnapping(s), namely her time spent with the Romulans. The enigmatic Hirek still haunted her thoughts. Something about the way he looked at her as if seeing through to her soul in a way no one else could, left Enyd feeling disquieted. Where she normally felt excitement for the opportunity to explore Romulan culture, Enyd had yet to warm up to the concept of exploring much of anything with Hirek. And it wasn’t just because he’d been a part of her kidnapping outside the opera house.

Giving a physical shake to jar her thoughts back into more pleasant territory, Enyd grabbed her purse, which held all the necessary items for a date on Qo’Nos, including discrete weapons, and made her way to the transporter room. Alistair was already waiting for her, dressed handsomely in crimson and black, cutting a suave image that Enyd felt her cheeks warm at the sight of.

“Why hello there, handsome,” Enyd purred as she came closer, switching her accent to match Valyn’s southern twang, “going my way?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Transporter Room 4 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Enyd certainly didn't disappoint. Alistair was grinning as she entered the transporter room, the familiar happy buzz in his stomach growing. He still didn't know if this was a good idea (heck, it probably wasn't), but it was too late to turn back now. In any case, he couldn't deny that he liked being called 'handsome'.

"I'd be a doofus not to be," Alistair said, bemused by her affected accent. "You look pretty great yourself." He gestured at the transporter pad, inviting Enyd to hop up onto it before joining her, then looking at the transporter operator. The chief was plainly trying not to laugh, but Alistair was in too good a mood to care. "Saqwa' city, the Square of Death. It's on the list of approved spots."

The chief nodded, still smirking as he worked the console. "Co-ordinates locked in."

Alistair glanced at Enyd to check that she was ready, then looked back. "Energise." And stop smirking like that. I'm the one with the hot date!

In a whirl of blue sparks, both Alistair and Enyd disappeared, only to rematerialise moments later in the heart of a thriving city centre, right in the middle of a vast square, in front of a great statue. Tall buildings towered around them, while Klingons of all ages milled about, from the eldery to the infants. The sun was only just setting but it was still remarkably warm, the emerald sky having only a few wisps of clouds, dominated by the great shattered orb of Praxis. It was a remarkably ordinary city, all things considered, even if the statues spread around the square depicted more graphic violence than would be typically seen in the Federation.

Alistair took a moment to find his bearings before looking at Enyd. "Saqwa' is a neutral city," he explained, "so there was no fighting here. I served with a friend in the war who liked to talk about a show." He looked pointedly at the other side of the square, where a large theatre loomed. Alistair held out an arm. "Shall we?"

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Square of Death | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

“I like a man who establishes where I stand with him on the first date,” Enyd commented as she chuckled at square’s name, knowing full well the historical context of the square and how it had gotten its moniker but not allowing that knowledge to keep her from teasing Alistair.

The transport was smooth, credit to the operator, and within seconds Enyd blinked into view the bustling city of Saqwa,’ already a welcome change from some of the other places she’d visited on the planet so far. Alistair’s quick comment about it being a neutral city was further comfort to Enyd’s soul. Some of her excursions had been in the line of duty, and not one of those had left her unscathed. The others had been for fun, but even then, her assumption that chaos followed in her wake was quickly becoming fact, given how many of those so-called fun excursions had resulted in difficulties and discomfort as well. If they could make it back to the ship in one piece, without threat or harm, that would be a first for Enyd in her personal history with Qo’Nos.

Taking his arm with a pleased smile, Enyd followed his lead as they moved across the square to the destination he’d pointed out. His mentioning of “the war” had her curious. Her first thought was the Dominion War but, given that it was Alistair and his neck-deep existence in temporal mechanics, it was likely he was referring to a different one.

“If you don’t mind my asking, which war?” Taking note of some of the other show-goers filing in beside and behind them, Enyd raised an eyebrow. “And what kind of show is this?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Transporter Room 4 | Deck 12 | USS Theurgy ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Enyd's first question threw Alistair for a loop, and he looked at her in confusion, not answering for a moment. How many other wars were there? There was just the war. Everything before and since, from the Federation's bloody two-year conflict with the Klingons to the Theurgy's own recent battles, had been a quaint side-show by comparison. As the line moved forward, the lightbulb finally switched on. Enyd knew he'd traveled in time and worked with time travel, so of course, he could mean any old conflict. Or new conflict, for that matter, assuming that the Infested's influence hadn't reduced the galactic quantum variation so much as to ensure an apocalyptic outcome, regardless of counteraction...

Shut up, brain.

"Er...it was the Dominion War," Alistair said soberly. "When I was on layover at Starbase 12, I met someone in the KDF, an engineer on a cruiser. He told me all about-"

"Did I hear that right, dear?" interjected a wheezy woman's voice from behind them. Startled, Alistair turned around to see an elderly Klingon couple in the queue, both well dressed and (naturally) both carrying d'k'tahgs on their belts."You fought in the war?"

Bemused, Alistair glanced at Enyd. "Uh, yeah," he said, baffled by the interest. "On the starship Pioneer."

"That's wonderful, it is, my dear, truly," the old Klingon woman said with a wrinkled warm smile. "That is an honourable thing. I've always liked you humans, you fight so well. And you, dear," she said as she looked at Enyd, "you have the look of a warrior about you. Oh, you must be from one of those Federation ships up in orbit! You did such a fine job in the civil war, dears, you both must have claimed such glory in battle. I'm sure your families are very proud of you. Isn't that right, Carvok?"

"Hm?" her husband grunted, having plainly been trying to avoid the conversation, but at his wife's sharp elbow to the ribs, he jerked to full alertness. "Urm, yes Leshvor, very proud, very proud. Good warriors on the Theurgy, yes, yes. Qa'pla." He gave such a weak salute that his wife glared daggers, and Carvok stood a little straighter. "You two young'uns will like this show. I've been to Earth stand-ups, a few of 'em. Not bad. This is like that, but with more punching. Much more fun, let me tell you, and I've been to shows up and down this quadrant, in the Empire and the Federation and Cardassia-"

"Hush dear, I'm sure they don't want to hear about your honourless whoring all over space," Leshvor interrupted, patting his arm. "My husband here likes to think that he's a comedy critic, but it's all a load of waffle in his retirement, don't mind him."

Carvok scowled. "I'm the best comedy critic in this city-" ("the only critic", his wife added) "-and I've told you a thousand times, woman, I've never whored!"

Leshvor harrumphed. "That trollop that I saw you with was naked!"

Carvok rolled his eyes in exasperation. "She was Ferengi, you daft woman! They're all naked!"

"So you say," Leshvor said skeptically before smiling at Alistair and Enyd. "Oh, you really will adore this show, dears, it will appeal to your spirit if you have seen battle. You will have a lovely time. Is this your first date as a couple?"

Alistair (struggling mightily to not laugh) was taken aback by the question, and grinning, he glanced at Enyd expectantly, not trusting himself to answer.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd’s response to Alistair’s comment was stalled by the interruption of the Klingon woman’s question. Enyd remained quietly observant by Alistair’s side as she watched and listened to the exchange. The woman’s glowing praise of humanity surprised Enyd but then again, she’d already met a few Klingons who had more critiques for their own kind than for humans or any others—except maybe the Romulans. As the woman spoke and doted on her husband, Enyd couldn’t help the instinctive pull to lean more heavily against Alistair’s side, cueing into the woman’s words and demonstrating a physical unity display for the couple that brought a smile to the man’s face.

“I bloodied my tik’leth in the battles we just came through,” Enyd added for Leshvor’s sake, watching Carvok’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “And this handsome warrior saved an entire ship from destruction by the sheer might of his wit.” She lightly patted Alistair’s chest with her free hand, delighting in watching the woman momentarily fawn over Alistair while Carvok exuded an air of preferring anything but small talk.

It was then that Carvok let loose the content of this show and it was Enyd’s turn to look at Alistair with an expression of surprise. Klingon stand-up comedy…assuredly not at all what she would expect to find here. And it was very telling of the man beside her that he’d decided that it was precisely what was in order for their first date. After a quick squeeze of her hand against his forearm, Enyd returned a smile to Carvok.

“The punch lines are more literal here, then?” Leshvor laughed first, with Carvok wagging a knowing finger in her direction in appreciation.

She briefly leaned her head against Alistair’s shoulder while the married couple fell back into bantering, tossing him a playful smile when she got his attention. At the mentioning of naked Ferengi, Enyd quickly dropped herself back into the conversation.

“Not to choose sides, but in my line of work, I can attest to that fact, ma’am. Ferengi women are naked the majority of the time. It is considered unseemly and offensive for them to wear clothing. It was not my favorite mission, but I have had to work some missions with higher-ups in the Ferengi government that required me to be similarly unclothed to avoid diplomatic incidence.”

She smiled when Carvok was careful to look everywhere but at Enyd then, especially with Leshvor keeping a level eye on him. Her smile faltered then grew at Leshvor’s question, and it was with childlike glee that Enyd redoubled her efforts to appear clingy against Alistair’s side.

“I keep calling it what it is but this one is playing hard to get.” She batted her eyes at Alistair before returning her attention to Leshvor. “How did you get yours to stop running away?”

Leshvor chuckled, “I just learned how to run faster than him to take out my competition before they could sink their claws into him, my dear.” She leaned closer and spoke to Enyd as if Alistair wasn’t looming over the both of them. “My advice, make sure you have good running shoes and keep your tik’leth sharpened.”
“Our seats are over here, dearest.” Carvok tugged on his wife’s arm. “You will see. This show is to die for.” He winked. “Almost literally.”

Enyd laughed, tossing her hair as she looked back up to Alistair. She waited for half a heartbeat before she lightly poked him in the sternum, “I’ll have you know my tik’leth is sharpened and at the ready.”

---

I'm so sorry it took so long to reply. Life was cruising them BAM it got chaotic. Cheers!

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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As Carvok and Leshvor shuffled away to find their seats, Alistair was chuckling silently, suddenly reminded of why (when they weren't shooting at him) he really liked Klingons. As Enyd teased him, he reflected (again) that she was far too cute for someone so mischievous.

"That's good," he answered drily, "because I'm feeling pretty unarmed right now by comparison." Glancing around the auditorium, Alistair tried to make sense of the Klingon numerals on each rows, and he guided Enyd to their seats with the usual awkwardness of such an activity. Eventually, though, with only a modicum of grumbling from other spectators (by Klingon standards) that they squeezed past, the humans found their seats.

By then, the auditorium was filling nicely as the buzz of anticipation and pre-show chatter filled the air. Most present were Klingons but there was also a scattering of other species here and there, even Federation species, although there was no way of telling if any were from the Theurgy and Oneida. The entire auditorium was full of positivity, reflected by the dramatic statues and artwork at the sides and the spectacular fresco on the dome above.

Granted, it was a little unsettling that the fresco showed a Klingon hero surrounded by the butchered bodies of his slain foes (including more than one Starfleet officer, wearing the gold uniform of a century past), but it was impressive all the same.

"It sure doesn't look like there was a civil war on this planet two weeks ago," Alistair commented to Enyd with bemusement. "Or that the moon nearly...you know...blew up. They really bounce back fast over here."

Before he could say anything else, the lighting dimmed dramatically everywhere except the stage, and the hubbub of the crowd slowly quietened into silence. Eventually a woman walked onstage, regarding the crowd with apparent bemusement. She was simply dressed, wearing only a short-sleeved tunic and simple pants, and most unusual for a Klingon, she was completely unarmed.

"Well well well, aren't you a miserable bunch," she said to the crowd, her voice caught by a microphone to reach the entire auditorium. "To those of you who are ignorant, I am Yovvur. You know, looking out at you all, it occurs to me that+ this is my first show in four months, and this is what Qo'nos gives me! Two thousand Klingons come here, not two weeks after a civil war, and look at you! No shouting, no fighting, nobody has been stabbed, nobody has even passed out drunk yet! It's been five minutes! Come on, somebody, please, show me that you are KLINGON!"

The silence remained unbroken after Yuvvor's dramatic cry, the awkwardness building by the moment, the crowd looking at each other in confusion. Alistair glanced at Enyd, looking rather baffled himself but smiling awkwardly all the same as he shrugged. Then the silence was finally broken.

BURRRRRRRP!

In the row behind Alistair and Enyd, and several seats away, came the loudest and foulest belch that the humans had ever heard. The offender, a young Klingon man, looked sheepishly around, realising that he was now the center of attention and had been soundly caught.

"Sorry," he said into the silence, wiping his mouth helplessly, his apology reaching everyone in the auditorium. A beat passed before everyone erupted into laughter, the raucous sound filling the entire auditorium. It took a fair while for the laughter to die down, Yuvvor herself chortling merrily on the stage.

"For twenty two years I've opened with that gag on Qo'nos, and not once have you let me down!" she said, full of exuberance. "Welcome, one and all! Remember, there is only one rule: leave your grudges at home! I don't care if you wife's third cousin was once pissed on by someone's pet targ, or if you don't like Martok's hair style, there is no room for it here!"

Before Yuvvor could continue, someone else appeared on stage, a burly Klingon in armour. He was equally unarmed, although his thick lustrous beard I(ong enough to tuck into his armour) could likely double as a weapon should the need arise. He carefully began sneaking up on Yuvvor from behind, with the comedian apparently having no idea that he was there.

"This is part of the show," Alistair said quietly to Enyd. "From what I hear, members of the audience are allowed on stage at certain times to attack her. If they beat her, they win a prize."

As they saw, however, beating Yuvvor was no simple task.  The crowd offered no clues that he was coming, but Yuvvor seemed to know all the same. The big Klingon tried a jumping tackle, but Yuvvor neatly pivoted so that he merely dove onto the floor. He hurried to his feet anyway, regarding her warily.

"Oh, you are a strapping warrior, aren't you?" Yuvvor teased merrily. He tried a couple of punches, but Yuvvor was impossibly nimble as she dodged them, even making her movements comical, as if she was dancing, to the laughter of the crowd. A moment later she twisted her assailant around so that they were back to back, with the whole 'fight' becoming rather pantomime as Yuvvor played with him, constantly dodging and maneuvering so that they remained back-to-back. Eventually Yuvvor rammed her own backside into his, unbalancing him, allowing her to elegantly toss him onto the stage. The poor man looked rather pitiful, lying flat on his chest and facing the crowd, and his dignity was not helped when Yuvvor promptly sat herself on his back, pinning him, the crowd cackling in hilarity.

"So, just the other day, I saw a Tellarite out at my local bakery, and-" Yuvvor was interrupted by the indignant waving hands of her vanquished foe, apparently not happy that she planned to remain there, but she patted his head affectionately. "Oh hush dear, you're doing very well. You make an excellent place to sit, very firm and strong, a true Klingon seat. Now, this Tellarite..."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd squeezed Alistair’s arm with excitement as Yuvvor took the stage and challenged the crowd to be more Klingon. She’d been half tempted to take off a shoe and toss it at the lone woman—as a gesture of goodwill, of course—but had been saved a lost shoe with a timely belch. Enyd was the first to shamelessly hoot with laughter, hand reaching out to grab hold of Alistair’s forearm as she threw back her head and gave in to the belly laugh. Her laughter was soon drowned out as the arena joined her. Smiling up at her companion, Enyd wiped at the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand as Yuvvor continued her act, this time with more merriment and less feigned animosity.

Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but start to point toward the would-be attacker, but Alistair’s explanation had her hand dropping back to her lap. She gave a quick nod and edged forward in her seat, anxious to see how things would unfold. Without a care in the world for propriety, when the Klingon lunged for Yuvvor and the woman gracefully pivoted out of his way, Enyd reached out and latched her hand onto Alistair’s knee. Squeezing it, Enyd laughed and pointed toward the ruckus happening on stage, as if the man couldn’t see the mayhem for himself.

As Yuvvor continued her dance with the Klingon, Enyd gradually fell back to lean over and whisper to Alistair, “When the Klingons boarded Theurgy, I was cornered in the corridor, alone, armed only with a fork.” Her eyes were dancing with merriment now, though at the time, she’d definitely hadn’t been amused. “I can say he got more than one of my points.”

Patting Alistair’s shoulder for good measure, Enyd returned her attention to the stage just as Yuvvor sat on her opponent’s back and began to tell a story. But then, in the shadowed left corner of the stage, a commotion from the audience interrupted Yuvvor’s story. As if emerging from the waters of evolution, a god of a Klingon slowly took to the stairs. He wore an ornate tunic and skin-tight leggings with knee-high boots. His curly hair was loose about his shoulders and his forehead regally ridged. No doubt this man was of noble blood, and even Enyd felt the tugging allure that hovered about his shoulders.

“And who is this dandy?” Yuvvor didn’t move from her perch, not just yet, but shifted to face the newcomer, taking hold of the fallen Klingon’s feet and twisting them to elicit a moan of pain from the man who had tried to best her. “Some fat nobleman’s son, lost on his way to a brothel?”

The towering man waited until the audience’s laughter died down before he spoke in a rumbling timbre that brought goosebumps to Enyd’s skin. “Your father told me where you were.”

“My father?” Yuvvor dropped the Klingon man’s legs and stood up. Freed of his comedian burden, the other Klingon man rolled off the stage into the first row of audience goers. Ignoring his grunts of pain or the curses he earned from those he’d fallen upon, Yuvvor shot a question at the long-haired Klingon god, “And who are you to know my father?”

“I am Klar.” Yuvvor took a step back at his name, her mouth dropping open and then snapping shut. Klar smiled and gave a partial bow to Yuvvor and the audience, “I see from your reaction that you have heard of me.”

Yuvvor snorted, crossing her arms over her chest, “Were you not the one who got his finger stuck in a vethl’s ass?”

The audience erupted into a series of hoots and hollers. Enyd looked to Alistair for clarification, but before the man could offer his best guess on what a vethl was, Klar rolled his shoulders and lifted his hands to silence the commotion her comment had rendered in the arena.

“Make your jokes, Yuvvor, but I will contend with you here,” Klar began to strut over the stage towards Yuvvor, fingers deftly working at the various strings and buckles that held his ornate tunic together, “I will woo you on this stage in plain sight of all these audience members.” The tunic sprung free, the fabric all but leaping off his torso as if fleeing from the power of his undulating muscles. Enyd’s mouth dropped open in amazement. She hadn’t known a Klingon could be THAT muscled. “If you dare to deny me my right, I will fight you.” Shaking his thick mane of hair, Klar all but purred at Yuvvor, “Now, good evening, Yuvvor. For I have heard that is your name.”

Yuvvor was making a valiant effort to keep her eyes on his face and not roving over his body. Enyd wasn’t even making the attempt. “You must be hard of hearing, for that is only what my friends call me. For a waqboch like you? You may call me qavan. For that is all I will ever be to you.”

Again the audience booed or cheered at her retort, taking the cues for silence or cheers from Klar’s hand movements. Once more he held up a hand and everyone fell silent to listen.

“You lie. For you are called witty Yuvvor. Beautiful Yuvvor. And sometimes, Yuvvor the cursed.” A snarl was her only warning as she took a menacing step toward him. “Lusty Yuvvor.” Another growl from Yuvvor, another step, each reaction bringing more confidence to Klar as the two began to circle each other. “Your father spoke of your wildness, your strength; I could not help but be moved to woo thee for my wife.”

“Moved!” Yuvvor seemed to remember the audience then, eyes darting between the half-dressed hunk of a Klingon and the audience. “In good time, for a good Klingon man. But as for you?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and scoffed, “Let the feet that moved you here remove you there.” She pointed to the arena exit, her mischievous smile growing as laughter pitter-pattered from the audience. “For you are a moveable pillar. Not worth considering.”

She made the mistake of turning her back and that was when Klar sped into action. Enyd gasped, one hand covering her mouth, another reaching out for Alistair as they watched Klar move with greater speed and agility than the first Klingon. Perhaps for the first time in her twenty-two years, Yuvvor rapidly found herself clutched from behind in a vice-like grip. Klar shuffled on stage with the writhing comedian in his arms until he faced the audience and bent down to not-so-softly whisper to Yuvvor, “So what is moveable, dearest Yuvvor?”

Yuvvor found her footing with a heartfelt snarl and shimmied in Klar’s arms until she had enough purchase to reach up and fairly pull the bulkier man over her shoulder as one might a sweater. A crashing thud echoed in the arena as Klar fell in the same spot the earlier fleeing Klingon had.

“A useless cheS like you!” She gave a firm nod to the audience, raising her arms to solicit a rise in the applause and laughter.

But the laughter was mixed with gasps of surprise when Yuvvor abruptly fell onto her back, the victim of Klar’s firm grip on her ankles as he’d pulled her feet out from under her. With animalistic power, the man retook the stage. To the cheers and jeers of the audience, he quickly flipped Yuvvor onto her stomach. Then, kneeling beside her, Klar pulled Yuvvor’s arms behind her back and fairly hauled her into his lap, her chest awkwardly thrust forward as her disheveled form faced the audience.

“Why don’t you sit on me awhile and rest from all you must bear?”

“Minn'hor are made to bear, and so are you.” Even as her face scrunched up into an expression of obvious discomfort, the comedian did not look inclined to give up or give in.

“Woman also bear-“ Klar’s words were broken off on a gasping grunt when Yuvvor pushed them both back onto his back, the weight of her atop him breaking his breath and words at once.

Cracking her head back, his ridged forehead painfully met the back of her skull.

With a yelp of victory, Yuvvor rolled off Klar. “Yes, we bear many burdens for the likes of those such as you!” She went to kick him in the side, but Klar caught her foot in midswing.

“I will not burden you, sweet Yuvvor.” He tugged her foot towards him, his smirk growing as she hopped in her efforts to escape. “For you are young and light-“

Yuvvor once more cut off his words, but this time but a flying kick to the face, gaining her freedom as Klar rolled onto his back and clutched at his bleeding face.

“Too young for you and as heavy as I should be.” She dusted off her clothes and turned to face the audience again, mouth open to offer them apologies or jokes; Enyd wasn’t certain. But then Klar was at it again, this time with Yuvvor mindfully stepping out of the way of his oncoming tackle. “You are like a noisome parbIng!”

“Yet not so noisome that you have fled from my courting.” He spat a glob of blood at her feet, lips pulling back into a bloodied snarl. “Now, Yuvvor, set aside this waspish behavior and yield to me.”

Yuvvor tossed her head, arms in front of her, ready to fend off attacks, as they continued to circle each other, completely uncaring of the arena of spectators.

“If I am a pherza wasp, beware my sting.” She feigned an attack, her lips pulling back into a smiling snarl when he foolishly evaded the feint.

“You know the remedy for a pherza.” He ran at her, but before taking hold of her around the waist, Yuvvor locked an arm around his neck and swung him under her body, landing on his back.

“What? To pluck out its stinger? If the fool can find where it lies.” She winked at the audience, earning a few whistles.

Klar reached up, wrapping her hair around one fist, and jerked her down until their faces were parallel. The arena fell into a dead silence. Enyd against squeezed Alistair’s knee as she fell just as silent, in awe of whatever it was they were watching. Be it true or just a part of the show, she was loving it.

“Why, it is in his tongue.” Klar licked his bloodied lips for emphasis.

Yuvvor stiffened, “Whose tongue?”

“Yours.” Klar leaned forward and would’ve landed a kiss if Yuvvor hadn’t pulled against his grip on her hair just enough to bite the tip of his nose.

Instinctively Klar tossed Yuvvor from his shoulders. She curtsied to the audience before returning her attention to Klar, who had since recovered enough of his wherewithal to turn about and face the comedian. Upon seeing his bloodied visage, Yuvvor exaggerated a shiver.

“Why do you shiver?” he asked.

Yuvvor grinned, “It is what I do when I see a suy’.” Members of the audience hooted and hollered, some calling out for Klar to hit Yuvvor again. Enyd again had no notion of what this thing was, but apparently, it wasn’t something good-looking.

“There is no suy’ here, so you should not shiver.” He ran his hands over the sweat-glistened muscles of his chest, down over the contours of his stomach, and further to cup his own manhood. More than a few ladies in the audience growled out their delight at seeing his masculine beauty. “Unless it is from pleasure.”

Yuvvor’s mouth had dropped open, obviously one to appreciate the visible splendor, but snapped it shut almost immediately at his challenge.

“Had I mirror, I would show you the suy’.”

“Oh, you mean my face?” Klar reached up to pull his hair off his shoulders, making exaggerated moves to accentuate his muscles. A lady on the far side of the arena stood up and looked ready to take the stage, perhaps to claim Klar for her own, but either her husband or brother tackled her to the ground to stop her. Klar smirked at the ruckus his motions had caused before returning his attention to Yuvvor. “Come, sweet, dearest Yuvvor, your father has consented to our marriage. And will you, or nill you, I will marry you. For in this fight, I have seen the wild beauty of your spirit for myself, and you can be married to no man but me. For I am the man born to fight you,” he moved closer and made a not-so-subtle thrusting motion with his hips, “to ride you, and to love you.”

Yuvvor remained strangely silent for the span of a few heartbeats before she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side, “Where did you learn to talk like this?”

“Such as you, my mother had wit.” Klar smiled.

“A witty mother,” Yuvvor looked to the audience and winked, “and a witless son.”

Klar lunged at her. Yuvvor could have easily evaded, but she met his tackle with her own until they were wrestling against each other in the middle of the stage.

“Am I not witty?” he growled at her, hands on her shoulders pushing.

Yuvvor grunted her answer, “Yes, it must keep you warm at night for nothing else will.”

Suddenly Klar stopped pushing, and the quick change in physics had Yuvvor crashing against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides, Klar smiled.

“It has until now, but now, Yuvvor, I will find my warmth in your bed.”

With one last snarl, Yuvvor leaned up and bit Klar’s neck, eliciting a howl from the man. Behind her, Enyd heard a gasp and turned to see an older Klingon woman had fainted with her husband working to fan her face. Eyes wide, Enyd looked back to Alistair.

“Do you think this is real?” She gestured to the stage, where Klar had finished his howl and had once more grabbed Yuvvor’s hair, pulling her head back to place a fierce kiss on her lips.

The arena erupted into applause, many of the Klingons around them standing up and hooting out their delight. Enyd looked all around her before she shrugged and clapped as well, winking at Alistair as she stood. She was curious if there was more to come or, if this interlude was enough to fire up the need for a hasty exit for the Klingons on stage and perhaps a few in the audience.

---

Great inspiration from the commedia form of theater, and the dialogue of this scene is shamelessly adjusted from Taming of the Shrew.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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At Enyd's very pointed joke, Alistair couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief but not trusting himself to reply. The subsequent drama onstage enraptured the audience, not least because some of them were surely imagining being raptured by the glorious man who'd entered the stage. Alistair grinned as Yuvvor and the newcomer exchanged opening words, and he laughed outright at the vethl jibe, quite aware of what their rear ends were like. It all felt distinctly like the opening teasing jabs of a fight...and then Klar took off his tunic.

Oh. My. Word.

Alistair's mouth was wide open as he took the physical perfection that he was witnessing. He was too absorbed to even feel inadequate; what a man! A quick glance at Enyd made clear that she was also looking over Klar like the juiciest of meats, and he could hardly blame her. Half the audience seemed to be in agreement with Enyd's assessment, although Yuvvor struggled mightily, hitting back with another barb. Alistair's eyes widened then, realising what was about to happen.

Sure enough, Klar struck, and the dance began in earnest. Barely believing what he was watching (but loving every minute), Alistair didn't even register that Enyd had taken his hand at first as they watched the courtship unfold. Yuvvor and Klar had the audience's complete attention as they exchanged blows and words, the tension onstage building more and more.

When Yuvvor bit Klar's neck and Enyd asked her question, Alistair could only shrug in bafflement, grinning all the same. As Klar finally landed a kiss on his quarry, the entire crowd seemed to roar in approval. Yuvvor might've been making approving sounds too, but given that she was locked in oral warfare, nobody could tell.

After a few more moments passed, with hands starting to wander and Yuvvor increasingly surrendering to the inevitable, the crowd starting to look at each other in askance. "Uh...are they really..." Alistair said, his cheeks flushing as Yuvvor's free hand dipped into her foe's pants. Klar yelped at whatever she was doing, but retaliated by biting Yuvvor's bared neck in turn, earning a cry from her in turn. "If nobody stops them, they're going to go at it right...oh wow, right there..."

Some of the crowd didn't seem to mind this in the slightest, but fortunately for those with more delicate sensibilities, a short portly Klingon man rushed onto the stage. He was quite agitated, moving around the amorous Klingons as he anxiously tried to attract their attention, much to the crowd's amusement. Finally Klar simply grabbed the poor man's collar and tossed him away before resuming his business, attempting now to remove Yuvvor's shirt.

The director, as he surely had to be, picked himself up and headed for the front of the stage. "There will be an intermission now, thank you, honoured audience!" he called out in a high-pitched voice before glancing back at Yuvvor and Klar. He winced, then pulled a small device out of his pocket and pressed some buttons; moments later, both lovers had been beamed away in a whirl of red sparks.

"Thank you, thank you!" the director squeaked, trying valiantly to ignore the loud protests from the audience. "We will resume in twenty-oh, what's that?" He held a finger up to his ear and listened, then rolled his eyes. "Thirty minutes, thirty minutes! Thank you!"

The director jogged off the stage, and Alistair glanced at Enyd, smiling in happy bemusement. "So that happened," he said. "Fresh air?"

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd had to fan herself as the antics on stage turned far more physical than ever. The bites and nips grew more aggressive, the pawing at one another shredded clothing, and if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of the director, Enyd was of a like mind to Alistair that this night of comedy would have instead turned into a peep show. Her cheeks red, Enyd could only nod her head to Alistair’s suggestion for some fresh air. The press of the crowd, many of them now like-minded to the wrestling couple on stage, was having an effect on her, and Enyd very much needed some space and air. It seemed she wasn’t the only one. Sensitive to the emotional environment, so keen on picking up the body language cues of those around her, Enyd was VERY aware that the grand majority of those nearby were mightily aroused by what they'd seen.

As they joined the throng of theater-goers in the pour out into the anteroom of the theater hall, many couples were making a beeline for exits or dark corners. Enyd felt her ears heat up when she deduced what it was they were all likely to do. And yet, instead of hiding behind propriety and modesty like a sane woman, Enyd sidestepped such notions and leveled a steady gaze on Alistair. She gained pleasure in messing with this man the same way some women enjoyed a morning latte. There was something about the way he responded to her that just goaded her into teasing him more, and each time, more assertively.

With measured steps and a fixed stare, lips quirked upward in her best rendition of a seductive smile, Enyd advanced. As close as they were to the pillars marking the entrance to the theater, he had little room to maneuver away without running into the steady stream of people or the columns at his back. Only once she was toe-to-toe with the man, her head tipped up to keep the gaze consistent, did she speak, her voice husky, “Did you trick me into attending a Klingon orgy, Mister Leavitt?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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There was definitely an energy to the crowd as the throng left the auditorium. As he and Enyd headed for the exit, Alistair thought back to Brah's merry effusal all those years ago about Klingon comedy in Saqwa' City. Had that sneaky engineer been pranking him?  It was possible. As Alistair spotted the occasional couple splitting off, undoubtedly to find some dark corner or secluded spot, he reflected that if it was a prank, he was hardly complaining. Enyd certainly seemed to be enjoying the evening thus far, judging by her happy blush and smile.

Oh wait. That smile...oh no.

Alarms bells ringing furiously in his head, Alistair's eyes widened and he began backing up from Enyd's advance. Surviving a war and an apocalypse had given him a keen sense for danger, and the devious look in Enyd's eyes was about as dangerous as it got. Then she asked her question.

"What?" Alistair said in alarm, stepping backward into a tall solid object. He glanced behind him at the pillar and realised that Enyd had adroitly maneuvered him into a place from which there was no retreat. "Uh, that wasn't my...uh...I mean, it's...er..." Unable to look away from Enyd's astonishingly green eyes (how can they be so green!?), Alistair gulped. "It's not exactly an...uh...orgy...I think...hope..."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Licking her lips, Enyd tipped ever closer to watch the panic level increase in Alistair, enjoying the sight like the hellion he was turning her into. If she didn’t make the effort of confining her own hands, she’d likely give in to the temptation to walk her fingers up his chest and tap the tip of his nose just to enjoy the reaction such an action would render. But then, the more rational, merciful side of her brain activated, and she leaned back on her heels and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Now THAT would be quite the cultural experience, something to tell your grandchildren.” Enyd winked as yet another randily excited couple nearly bumped into them, despite their position to the side. “’Yes, that’s right, children, I took Grandma Enyd to the Klingon comedy show that dissolved into an orgy. And that’s where your mother came about.’” Enyd did her best mimic of Alistair’s voice, intentionally overdoing it just for effect.

Spying another group of Klingons coming through the entrance and not at all paying attention to their surroundings, Enyd shifted forward and to the side, coming to rest side-by-side with Alistair as they leaned against the pillars. Another wave of mercy hit her, and Enyd reached out the lightly pat Alistair’s arm, a goofy grin touching her face.

“I’m joking with you, Alistair. I deduced long ago that you did not know this would happen. And before your brain overheats, I wasn’t just propositioning you to impregnate me so you could tell that delightful story to our progeny.” Tossing a morbid snort to the side, Enyd shook her head. “Likely, I won’t have grandchildren at the rate I’m moving through men.” Glancing up at her companion, Enyd’s smile softened, and she again patted him on the arm. “I only mean that after I fainted in his arms, completely overcome by his charms and my own overactive imagination, the last man I kissed ended up facing off with a sabre bear. And before that, my Cardassian fiance died in my arms, And before that, my Bajoran boyfriend was nearly eaten by a Vulcan sea monster, though at the time, we weren’t yet dating. So you’d think he would’ve been free from my curse.” Shrugging, Enyd turned and leaned her shoulder against the pillar, eyes fully trained on watching Alistair’s reaction to her confessions. “I suppose I should come with a warning label. But enough about me, what of you, Mr. I swear it isn’t an orgy?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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As Enyd leaned in, with his heart racing, two impulses were screaming in Alistair's head: "RUN, YOU FOOL!!" and "KISS HER, YOU IDIOT!". The conflicting urges only froze him in place, and Alistair couldn't conceal his relief when Enyd pulled back at the last moment. She really was playing him like a human fiddle, and to Alistair's distinct irritation, he couldn't even bring himself to be mad about it.

He chuckled at Enyd's joke, shaking his head in dismay. The crowd had thinned out by now, the foyer becoming more quiet and intimate, save for occasional over-amorous Klingons (who were at least mostly quiet, at least now). Alistair kept a wary eye on a nearby couple in case he had to dodge, but the two men fortunately dragged each other in a different direction at the last minute.  Their enthusiastic but tender kissing made Alistair smile affectionately; even for Klingons, it was a rather romantic display, rather different to the hyper-lustful couple onstage.

He glanced at Enyd again as she shifted to his side, assuring him that impregnation was not in the offing. She grew more serious then, and Alistair turned to face her fully, crossing his arms and leaning against the pillar. As he listened attentively, realisation bloomed in his eyes as now, finally, he had some insight into this baffling woman. Beyond the teasing and extroverted flirting, beyond the deceptive cuteness and sneaky charm, there was a complex person within.

"Well," Alistair said, grinning at the nickname, "if you ever do get a warning label, I'd appreciate having one too." He uncrossed his arms and held up a finger. "My first serious girlfriend, back during the war? Suffered burns over half her body when her ship was destroyed, spent time recuperating in a Bajoran hospital, then fell in love with one of her doctors." He ploughed through, not wanting to linger. "Brah, the Klingon who recommended this place to me? He spent three weeks trying to court me. Poetry, music, a...uh...striptease in an airlock. Two months later, his ship is boarded by Jem'hadar and he loses both his arms in battle."

Alistair sobered then as he raised a third finger. "Then Nadene. We started dating not long ago, on the Eclipse. She...I'd rather not say, honestly, not right now, but it was bad." After a moment of somber reflection, he shook his head to clear it, then considered Enyd with a small but warm smile. "So hey, warning noted and returned. Maybe our curses will cancel each other out? I'm open to finding out if you are."

As an impassioned woman's cry echoedout from the far side of the nearly empty foyer, Alistair reddened as he glanced that way, but the source of the cry was hidden in a darkened corner. "Uh...granted, current evidence suggests otherwise."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd kept her gaze neutral as she listened to Alistair’s romantic history. If he’d been less of a genuinely nice guy, she might have been tempted to think he was making up his woes to compete with her own. But Enyd highly doubted such a thought would ever cross Alistair’s mind. He was much too pure of a soul for that sort of calculatingly misplaced jocularity. Ignoring the obvious mewl of passion coming from across the foyer, Enyd unfolded her arms and began rubbing her hands together. Her eyes alight with playful warmth, she held them out towards Alistair.

Avoiding eye contact for the moment, Enyd darted her gaze back and forth from each of her hands as she positioned her palms just above his shoulders. “On one of the Efrosian moons, there is an old tradition,” she smoothed her hands over Alistair’s shoulders and down his arms, taking care to keep from touching him, “of smoothing out the curses of your loved ones with warmed promises from your soul.” Reaching his fingers, Enyd pulled her hands back to rub them together again. “These warmed promises are not to be spoken aloud for fear of the gods twisting them into more curses.”  Her gaze twisted a bit mischievous before she hovered her palms in front of his chest. “I think traditionally, the ritual is performed in the nude, but seeing how our luck has turned out thus far this evening, we’re both liable to get tangled in our own clothing and break a literal leg instead of leaving the idiom for the thespians to execute.”

With her palms stopping at his waistline, Enyd resumed her hand rubbing as she shifted to stand behind Alistair to complete the same swishing hover movement over the back of his neck and down his back. Even if the “chosen one” for Alistair wasn’t herself, Enyd hoped he would find peace and healing in his soul from the pain of his past, be it viscerally recent or historically latent. She truly did wish the best for him, for them both, really.

She grinned like the cat who ate the canary when her palms stopped at his hips again, leaning forward to whisper over his shoulder, “I’ll not violate the ritual with a bum pinch, but I must say, you do have a nice one, Alistair.” Moving around to the front again, Enyd rubbed her hands together one last time, using her chin to point towards his head. “Usually, they go for the whole body, including the soles of one’s feet, but I don’t think the intermission will last that long. So for our impromptu little curse-be-gone interlude, I’ll just need you to bend down so I can smooth them away from your noggin’.”

Once Alistair complied, his responding expression to this whole ordeal bringing a giggle to her throat, Enyd was quick about smoothing her warmed palms over his head and first down the back of it, then forward along his jaw line. She saved the front of his face for last, waiting until he closed his eyes in instinctive response to having something hover so close to his eyes. She leaned forward on her toes and kissed his cheek. Dropping her hands to her side, Enyd grinned at the taller man.

“Curse-be-gone activate!” She made an exaggerated victory fist thrust in the air accompanied by a very girlish giggle.

[Ladies and gentlemen, you may resume your seats for the second half of our show. We demand that you ensure you are prepared for the show's second half. Now!]

In the background of the overhead announcer, Enyd thought she could hear clothes rustling. Prepared indeed. Quirking an eyebrow at Alistair, Enyd left the next move in his court.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Alistair supposed that the Efrosian ritual was intended to be a very serious affair, but he couldn't stop himself smiling all the same, sharing Enyd's fun. It was, however, surprisingly intimate (though not as intimate as normally performed, apparently, which led to Alistair grinning nervously and glancing away briefly). Though Enyd never physically touched him, he felt his skin tingle where her hands passed all the same, an altogether very pleasant psychosomatic response. It was easy to understand how a pair of Efrosians, nude and lit only be candlelight, could assign mystical power to such an act.

Of course, that thought led to Alistair imagining Enyd nude before him, lit only by candlelight, which did not help matters in the slightest. His cheeks were still a little flushed as she moved around behind him, the ritual somehow becoming more intimate as Alistair couldn't see what she was doing. His back tingled anyway where Alistair imagined Enyd's hands were passing, only adding to the intimacy of the act.

Admittedly the compliment about his ass did ruin the magic a little, but Alistair wasn't complaining. He was proud of that ass.

When Enyd snuck in a mischievous kiss on the cheek at the last, Alistair started in surprise, standing straight again. At Enyd's enthusiastic magic words, he laughed, but before he could say anything, the announcer spoke.

[Ladies and gentlemen, you may resume your seats for the second half of our show. We demand that you ensure you are prepared for the show's second half. Now!]

"I guess he means that everyone should be fully clothed," Alistair said with a grin. He took a step away from the column and held up his arm for Enyd. "Shall we?" After a moment, he added more quietly, "that was beautiful, by the way. Maybe I could do it for you too at some point...wait, I don't mean the proper way, but the...erm...appropriate way."

With that, he and Enyd made their way back into the auditorium, which was only slowly starting to fill up again despite the demand of the announcer. Many of the attendees were quite lively and cheerful as they returned, straightening clothes and sticking close to their companions. After Alistair and Enyd sat down, a couple of minutes passed as more people flowed in, some still quite amorous with one another, but having cooled off somewhat during the intermission to (just) the right side of propriety.

"Uh...for the record, I had no idea that the show would turn out this way," Alistair said to Enyd, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I didn't know that Klingon comedy could be this...erm...well, this."

Before Enyd could respond, the lights dimmed and an anticipative silence filled the auditorium. A moment later, the distinctive whine of a transporter filled the space as two figures were beamed onto the stage. Both were fully clothed this time but still looked quite dishevelled, and evidently had not been expecting the transport, judging from their expressions.

"Welcome back to you all!" Yuvvor cried out to the crowd, making a swift recovery. "This show has been different to what I anticipated-" (Klar struck a pose and waggled his eyebrows, drawing some very un-Klingon giggles from the audience) "-but you seem to all be enjoying yourselves. Some of you might be enjoying yourselves more than usual for one of my shows..."

Yuvvor was interrupted by a wild cry from behind her. A young Klingon woman charged Klar in a full sprint, but he seemed unperturbed as he faced the intruder. At the last moment he adroitly caught her by her shoulders, spun her around, placed his hands on her sides and lifted the shorter woman bodily up into the air.

"What do you think?" Klar asked Yuvvor casually, presenting his captive to her. In fairness, the woman didn't seem to mind the experience in the slightest. At Yuvvor's disinterested shrug, however, Klar simply moved to the edge of the stage and tossed his charge out into the seats, causing a minor commotion. Yuvvor, however, was already looking elsewhere.

"We can do better," she mused, her eyes roving the crowd. "So who here thinks they are worthy of a prize other than my foot in their rear? Who here will risk what we will unleash upon them? "

As Yuvvor's gaze settled, Alistair's eyes widened. "Oh no."

"Humans!" Yuvvor called out cheerfully, and the audience followed her eyeline to look at Alistair and Enyd. "You look so adorable together on your first date! Dare you test yourselves with fists or wit?" Yuvvor winked dramatically. "We will be gentle with our alien guests, I promise!"

"I make no such promise," Klar added with a smirk.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Taking his arm, Enyd leaned forward long enough to playfully swat his chest in response to his offer, “Who knew you could be such a tease? Promising a girl a traditional nude Eforisan ritual then backtracking into the ‘appropriate,’ tsk tsk, Mister Leavitt.”

Laughing at his expression, Enyd followed him back to their seats, her amusement not once dwindling as she watched the other patrons—those who’d remained and/or managed to get dressed in time—take their seats. It made her curious if there had been a fine print to the brochure detailing this show. Perhaps a rating, if Klingons even had a rating system or deemed anything inappropriate for children. Either way, this turn of events was something Enyd wouldn’t let Alistair live down.

“That’s okay, Alistair, but just know, you don’t need to go through such elaborate efforts to proposition me,” Enyd whispered close to his neck, sending him a winking smile when he noticed her. Sitting back straight, eyes on the stage, Enyd added, “I find this absolutely thrilling. As a diplomat, I delight in such circumstances. So no need to apologize; we’re bonding through adversity.”

Enyd was a bit surprised to see Yuvvor and Klar returned to the stage. And fully clothed, albeit a bit disheveled. It seemed as if Yuvvor was wearing Klar’s shirt, and the warrior was wearing near nothing up top in return. With the charging woman fulfilling an expectation, Enyd was just settling in to enjoy the second half and all its surprises when the axis of their evening tipped, and they were both thrust into the literal limelight. Gaging how cheerful Yuvvor seemed to discover their presence, Enyd did not doubt that whatever was going to happen to them would involve physical or social discomfort. So the real question was not so much IF they were going to be “tortured” but whether or not they could weather it with poise. Enyd certainly didn’t want to dishonor the Federation or her shipmates by cowering away from this ordeal.

Within the last two weeks, she’d faced down a Klingon warrior in the ship’s corridor with a fork, an Infested in the Great Hall with the tik’leth, a gaggle of warriors in an arena with her wits and timely acquired spear, and just that morning had plunged through rabid birds and then hunted wildlife in the traditional Klingon garb—nude—with a halberd like weapon. She rather figured neither Yuvvor nor Klar were actually going to kill them and if things went south, well she still had Zark’s vibro blade hidden.

“Not too gentle, I hope.” Enyd surged to her feet, voice booming despite her size. Growing up on a ranch in Montana, you had to learn to project your voice from a young age. “My companion and I hope you are not mere empty vessels gonging loudly for coin.” She tugged at Alistair to join her as she shimmied her way down the row and then began her confident stride toward the stage. Around them, Enyd heard the audience laugh at her barb, “Often the loudest blabbers are the emptiest of wit.”

Klar raised an eyebrow, looking over to Yuvvor. She seemed even more delighted by Enyd’s words, licking her lips as she watched their approach.

“Now, which of you wishes to battle with my fists, and which with my wits?” Enyd intentionally exaggerated her pose once she was on stage, the audience roaring with laughter at the sight of the svelte diplomat raising her fists and puffing out her chest like a Klingon warrior as she faced off with the thespian and her lover. Glancing over her shoulder, Enyd waggled her eyebrows at Alistair.

Sadly, that brief moment of diverted attention was all that was needed for Klar to surge forward and wrap Enyd in a Klingon bear hug, hoisting her off her feet and twirling away. As Enyd began yowling out exaggerated frustration--though she was more amused than anything--Yuvvor shifted her attention to Alistair, eyes bright with anticipation.

"Shall we dance, human?"

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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In contrast to his date, Alistair was quite nervous as Enyd merrily lead him up onto the stage. It was hard to ignore the penetrating eyes of hundreds of Klingons. Feeling thoroughly exposed and uncomfortable, Alistair watched as Enyd taunted their 'foes', and he raised his own hands in a fighting stance, albeit half-heartedly. Enyd's waggling eyebrows drew a nervous grin from him, but in the moment of distraction, Enyd was promptly yoinked away by Klar...leaving Alistair alone.

He briefly considered rescuing Enyd, but reasoning that she didn't seem to mind being in the hunky Klar's powerful embrace (who would?), Alistair focused on Yuvvor. "I...uh...I've danced many times, but I can't say that it's my strong suit," he admitted. He suspected that Starfleet's martial reputation might be about to take a knock, but there was nothing for it. As Yuvvor stepped closer, he lunged to tackle her...

...only to stumble into empty air with a playful swat on the rear for good measure, to the amusement of the crowd. Turning around, Alistair tried again, only for Yuvvor to dance out of the way...quite literally.

"What is it you humans call this?" Yuvvor teased, undulating her hips and snapping her fingers to imaginary music. Alistair leapt forward to grab her again, only for Yuvvor to neatly dodge him once more. Still dancing, much to her victim's bemusement, she even nudged her hip against his. "The hula, yes, that's it! I love this dance! You're a natural!"

Somewhat baffled as Yuvvor continued dancing in front of him, Alistair tried to grab her again, only for the agile Klingon to simply lean back as if it was part of the dance, avoiding his outstretched arms. She advanced until she was dancing in intimate proximity, stunning Alistair into immobility; should he dance with her or toss her away? He was hopeless in either respect. Yuvvor's hands moved to his sleeved arms, tracing the biceps, and she made a low sound of appreciation that the microphone carried into the auditorium all the same. Alistair was so befuddled that he lost track of whatever Enyd was up to as his brain desperately tried to catch up.

"Oh, what a powerful man we have here, so well disguised!" Yuvvor teased as her hands slipped under his crimson shirt from underneath, moving up his torso. She looked out at the crowd with a devious grin. "Shall we see what our dancing human is hiding?"

The crowd called out the assent, but Alistair's eyes widened. "No, wait-" he protested, but to no avail as Yuvvor forcefully yanked her hands back. The shirt burst open, buttons flying everywhere, revealing the musculed torso that lay underneath. The crowd laughed as Yuvvor stepped out of the way, although more than a few were plainly enjoying the view and were being none too subtle about it. His cheeks steadily becoming as red as his ruined shirt, Alistair opened the one button that had survived and he glared at Yuvvor.

"Okay, that's it," Alistair said furiously, grabbing Yuvvor's biceps before she had a chance to react. He spun her around and pulled her against his chest, holding her there by sheer brute strength as they faced the crowd. "If my shirt is fair game, then so is Yuvvor's, right?" he called out to the crowd, suddenly emboldened, and the audience agreed quite loudly. It was only then that Alistair realised: he was threatening to rip a woman's shirt off while on a date with another woman.

"Oh crap, Enyd..." he muttered, his cheeks as red as ever. He glanced back at Enyd as the crowd guffawed at his embarrassment.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen |  Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

“You remind me of a cheS.” Klar’s breath was hot as the Klingon spoke gruntingly against her neck.

His arms were steely vices clamped over hers. His restrictive embrace left only her forearms flailing about like ancient Earth dinosaur arms, tiny and useless. For the time being, her legs were free to lash about, kicking up and down and swishing all around as her “dance partner” twirled about on stage for comedic effect. The length of her dress afforded some aid to protecting her modesty from the eager audience, but Enyd knew her luck would hold only for a matter of time. The goddess of chaos was ever against her and Enyd had strutted onto this stage having accepted the inevitable reality that she would leave the stage either entirely naked or in tatters. But the honor of the Theurgy was at stake, her own and Alistair’s as well, and she wasn’t about to back down from a diplomatic encounter.

“Is that some fierce creature your children fear in the night?” Enyd knocked her head back but disappointingly met air instead of his nose. This was not Klar’s first dance.

His rumbling chuckle vibrated through her body, “No, it is a small, four-legged mammalian creature with long, floppy ears. It hops along the ground eating smaller mammals and reptiles. Although the barb on its hind legs can cause temporary paralysis, it is far too small and adorable to be feared.”

Enyd took a deep breath then let it out in a controlled breath, bringing her legs together and raising them up in front of her in a dress-covered version of that most hated strength training move, the captain’s chair. She felt Klar stiffen behind her, likely curious what sort of shenanigans she was about to pull, this human cheS he found so adorable. Gripping his arms with her hands—though she wasn’t much worried about him letting go—Enyd dropped her legs down and back in a controlled pendulum move. To avoid having her heeled feet from knocking into his shins, Klar jumped his legs out at the last second, affording Enyd with a brief window to repeat the move on a smaller scale but with more momentum in the hopes of knocking his equilibrium off just enough to get dislodged from his grip.

And it worked. Somewhat. Only, instead of letting go, Klar took her down with him when he fell forward. To his honorable credit, he didn’t smash her face into the stage. This was, after all, only a comedy show and not a fight to the death. The Klingon had the decency to absorb the fall into his right shoulder before rolling on top of her. They were lying parallel to the audience, her head twisted to face them with her lips pursed as her cheek was flattened against the stage. The audience loved both her move and the re-established dominance of Klar overtop her, his superior weight pressing her uncomfortably into the unforgiving hardness of the stage. With one hand lying atop her head to keep her from rocking back with it, Klar moved the other to trace over the contours of her squished face.

“Now, what was the point of that?” Klar bent down and purred next to Enyd’s ear, soliciting hoots and hollers from the audience. Likely some of the viewers wished they were in her position.

Grunting as she wiggled and squirmed until she had her hands braced under her, next to her chest, Enyd croaked, “I was curious if you knew the horizontal mambo.”

“The what-“

Enyd bucked her hips up, bringing her knees forward under her torso to prevent Klar’s smashing her back down flat. As Klar’s weight was shifted forward, Enyd pushed with her arms, not trying to push directly up so much as to push up and back, working to roll the Klingon onto his back so she could either get out from under him or, if he did as she suspected, pull her atop him as he rolled onto his back. The audience guffawed when their bodies settled into the new position, Enyd straddling Klar’s waist, facing toward his feet with Klar’s massive hands gripping her hips, working to keep her in place. While she wasn’t directly over his hips, Enyd was straddled reverse cowgirl style close enough to feel the belt buckle securing his pants rubbing against her, far more intimate than she cared it to be.

She rode out the rise and fall of his belly, the depth of his laughter exaggerated for effect, eliciting more giggles from the audience as they watched her bounce up and down. While his hand rummaged around through the volume of her skirts, his teasing words spoken mostly to the audience momentarily lost on her, Enyd reached beneath the front folds of her dress and deftly unclipped the offending buckle. Although the pants had seemed painted on, leaving little to the imagination, it might prove somewhat useful.

Klar’s hands still played with the various layers of her dress, happily showing the audience little glimpses of the alabaster flesh of Enyd’s legs as he continued to growl out Klingon witticisms; Enyd smirked. He was no longer trying to secure her. Glancing over her shoulder, face framed with tussled hair, eyes alight with mischief, Enyd gave Klar a wink before she tucked and rolled forward. She couldn’t roll down his torso with as much agility or speed because of the dress, but it was enough to end up sprawled between his feet. Gathering her skirts close to her body, Enyd made to spring to her feet and away from Klar, heading straight for Alistair and his own dance with Yuvvor, when she heard the rip.

Klar had sat up and grabbed for the first thing within reach, which just so happened to be the back of her dress (https://theviraler.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/49-hot-pictures-of-gene-tierney-will-have-you-glued-to-your-screen-best-of-comic-books-10.jpg). Given the fact that it was mostly black lace hugging her torso over a tasteful placement of pink silk, it proved no match to the Klingon’s enthusiasm. The other condemning variable in this chaos equation was the cut of the dress itself—a tantalizing v cut that sliced down nearly to her belly button—with the sheer material covering her skin for a hint of modesty also waving a flag of surrender. The combination of Enyd’s forward momentum and Klar’s backward jerk resulted in two things:
         1.   Thanks to her lithe nature and speed, Enyd was freed from Klar’s grip.
         2.   Thanks to the flimsy material of her dress and Klar’s determination, Enyd was now wearing lacey forearm covers with no top connected to them.

The chaos goddess sprinkled further mayhem on the evening when, just as Enyd stumbled forward, bare-breasted like an Amazonian warrior, Alistair’s turned his frazzled attention to check on her. She could only manage a half-shrug and an attempt at a coy wave before she heard movement from behind her. Whether Klar was apologetic for having taken it so far, Enyd couldn’t tell. But the Klingon’s eyes were wide when he took in the creamy mounds of her breasts dancing with her every movement. Feeling emboldened by their circumstances, Enyd tossed her mayhem-loosened hair over her shoulder and threw a smirk at the audience.

“It seems the warrior has lost his nerve.” She made the universal gesture of holding up a pinkie and letting the erect finger topple over with a feigned gasp.

The audience, and Klar himself, erupted with laughter. It seemed things were not quite turning out the way the Klingon had expected, and yet that was the perfection of comedy. He was slower about standing, still holding the lacey left overs of her top in his hand. Instead of launching back into an immediate attack, his gaze moved past Enyd and tracked the antics of Alistair and Yuvvor. Enyd wasn’t about to take her eyes off the man, having fallen for that once before. Even as Klar held a hand over his stomach as he hunched over with laughter, Enyd refused to look at whatever it was the other stage occupants were doing to elicit such a response. She had no interest in feeling Klar’s rough hands against her naked flesh and would rather run around the stage like a rabbit than get caught again.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Well, that happened. Dumbstruck by Enyd's sartorial distress, Alistair couldn't take his eyes away, completely forgetting Yuvvor. It wasn't just the sight of Enyd's bared breasts that stunned them (though they did have an undeniable hypnotic allure), but the realisation that this show was going further than he'd thought possible. The thought was frightening and exciting in equal measure. Alistair noted that just a couple of months ago, he would've leaned into the 'frightening' part and run like the wind, but now, excitement was winning out. This was fun, astonishingly so, and even though her beautiful dress had been torn to reveal all, Enyd's grin made it clear that she felt the same way, even with her breasts swinging in the breeze for hundreds to see.

Oh, she was a very dangerous woman.

"Hmpf!" Alistair grunted at a sudden tightness around his nether regions, realising too late that he had been distracted for too long. Yuvvor, her forearms still clutched by his iron grip, had nevertheless managed to maneuver her hand back between them to take two very important hostages. She squeezed, drawing a startled gasp from her victim.

"And see here, honoured watchers," Yuvvor said to the crowd with an evil grin, "how one controls a male. We can give him a shock," (Alistair yelped) "we can make him sing," (Alistair squeaked, his cheeks flushing) "and we can make him lose his senses entirely!"

At the last, Yuvvor's deft fingers found another (somewhat larger) hostage, the fabric of the pants providing no protection. "Oh!" Alistair gasped, rising up on his toes as Yuvvor did her work. He immediately felt himself hardening under her touch, unable to prevent it, and Yuvvor didn't help matters by rythymically bumping her posterior against his groin. It wouldn't be long until, when Yuvvor stepped aside, everyone would see the results of her teasing, pants or no.

"This would be the time to yield with much honour gained, friend," she said softly. "It only gets harder from here, doesn't it?" Her last words were to the crowd, and they laughed at the pun, but Alistair had enough presence of mind (barely) to understand her meaning. She was offering him and Enyd an out if they were uncomfortable, as well as a warning. "So...will you yield?"

"Not...a...chance."

Suddenly Alistair released Yuvvor's arms, his hands moving to her waist, and with a grunt of exertion he lifted her up high. She cried out in surprise, flailing, but unable to escape. Alistair strained mightily to keep hold of her; she was shorter than him and quite slender, but still Klingon, and thus packed a lot of extra muscle mass. After keeping her in the air for a good few seconds, content that his point had been made, Alistair lowered her back towards the floor...and then, quite suddenly, dropped her.

Yuvvor didn't fall far, and she reacted instantly after hitting the floor, turning onto her back and looking up at him with an indecipherable glint in her eyes. Caught up in the heat of the moment as he stood above her, Alistair nevertheless hesitated; what next? Straddle her, rip her shirt off as he'd threatened? Pin her, subdue her? Let her get back up? The crowd began shouting suggestions, some of which were so lewd that Alistair blushed even more fiercely. He didn't even want to check if his partial arousal from Yuvvor's teasing was visible, although given that Yuvvor was still on the floor and looking up at him...

Exhilirated and embarrassed in equal measure, Alistair glanced back at Enyd; he certainly wasn't going to forget her. They were a team on this crazy night, and it was apparent that she could use some aid against the much larger, bulkier and hunky Klar, who wore only pants again...there's a thought. He glanced down at Yuvvor and shrugged, grinning self-consciously.

"Hold that thought," he said before turning around and making a beeline for the others, unbuttoning his cuffs as he did so. Reaching Enyd, he looked at her (trying valiantly to keep his eyes up). "I hope you don't mind me butting in, but...uh...I have an idea. Cover me."

With his shirt open, his own powerful physique was evident (much to the crowd's appreciation) although he still paled compared to Klar's mighty body. Stepping closer, Alistair squared up to Klar, who grinned in anticipation.

"The tame minn'hor finds his teeth!" Klar laughed.

"Time to pick on someone your own size," Alistair countered to general confusion. He glanced around at the crowd in askance. "Er...anyone? No? It's a human expression..."

"But you're not my size," Klar said, frowning. "You're so small. Half my size, perhaps. No matter. Come, let us dance the night away!"

With that, the two men began circling, arms held high, ready to grapple. Klar hadn't been exaggerating about the size difference, in either height or sheer bulk, but Alistair seemed undeterred. The crowd began amping up the noise in anticipation, the tension buildimg as the two men gradually closed, until Klar lunged and...

...met empty air as Alistair ducked into a crouch, grabbed the hem of Klar's unbuckled pants and yanked them down.

He stared. The crowd stared. Silence filled the auditorium. Alistair was utterly stunned. His mental picture of Klar awkwardly bumbling around in his underwear, pants around his ankles, vanished into smoke. Instead, right before his eyes, was the most spectacular penis he'd ever seen. Even flaccid it was substantial, ridged down its length and just...well...there, directly before Alistair's face. The human was completely dumbstruck.

Klar, having not a care in the world, swung his hips and thwapped the other man with the phallus. Alistair backed up hurriedly while still crouching, fell on his ass, then hurriedly got to his feet next to Enyd, his prior bravado having abandoned him.

"Sorry," he babbled, "I thought you were wearing...uh, I was sure you had, completely sure, entirely sure, I didn't mean...er...I...um..." He ran out of steam, eyes fixed on what was, in fairness, hard to miss. "I mean...really, it's...uh...wow...just look at it..." He glanced at Enyd and shrugged helplessly. "It's pretty incredible, isn't it?"

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd jerked in surprise when she felt the warmth of Alistair’s breath fanning across her neck, his words quickly spoken before he approached Klar. She couldn’t help but laugh at his last comment. Cover him? How was she supposed to do that when she stood bare-breasted before the auditorium?

Enyd didn’t have much time to contemplate his request of the turn of events much further before the skin on the nape of her neck prickled in anticipation. Yuvvor. She’d been standing with her back on the Klingon woman all this time. Energy zoomed into her gut, the heat of adrenaline resurging into her veins. Acting on instinct, Enyd ducked and shifted to the side, assuming that Yuvvor was about to grab her from behind. When she stood upright and turned around, however, Enyd frowned. Yuvvor was nowhere to be found.

At this time, Alistair returned to her side, panting and commenting on something incredible. Glancing back toward Klar, Enyd’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at the length and girth of the Klingon’s penis.

“Incredible is not the word I’d use-“

Enyd’s voice was cut off by the audience's sudden eruption of cheers. Neither she nor Alistair had a chance to turn to figure out just what had triggered the response, aside from Klar’s well-endowed personality swinging before their eyes. In a rapid succession of “oh no’s” murmured unintentionally from Enyd, Yuvvor reappeared into view with a rope dangling in her hand. A second rope was tossed over their heads to the semi-pants-less Klar, and with practiced arm movements, both sets of ropes wrapped around Enyd and Alistair. One around their shoulders, the other around their ankles.

Yuvvor was the first to tighten her rope, drawing Enyd’s ankles painfully against Alistair’s, their hips almost flush against each other. Enyd had to hold her hands up, pressing them against Alistair’s chest to keep from falling into him. So far, they remained standing, although teetering on the edge of falling over. Enyd was certain the moment Klar tightened his rope fully, they’d end up helpless on the stage. If she took her hands off Alistair’s chest, she end up crushed against him, and so left any further rope wrangling to her companion.

From behind her, Yuvvor spoke. “It seems rude, don’t you think, dear audience, that this man remains so overdressed?” Enyd met Alistair’s gaze. “I think it is high time we fix that!”

Enyd’s eyes widened, her almost panicked expression mirroring Alistair’s mere seconds before Yuvvor reached around Enyd’s body. How she managed to rip Alistair’s pants and underwear off his hips and leave them dangling at his ankles, Enyd couldn’t quite figure out. It was almost as if the comedy act had turned into a magic horror show. Milliseconds into the audience’s guffawing at Alistair’s new state of undress, Klar finally tightened his rope fully, the braided band having shimmied down to rest just above Enyd’s elbows. There was now no way to keep the separation between the naked flesh of her bosom from that of Alistair’s bare chest, and neither was there any way for him to keep his bare hips away from her—thankfully—still clothed waist.

For the first time in this entire endeavor, Enyd felt fear. Although, yes, she’d glibly participated in light shibari just the day before with Via, this was quite different. She’d been a willing participant in that scenario, fully aware of what came next and fully trusting in Via. This was very, very different. While she had no fear of Alistair, the anxiety of the unknown of their scenario combined with the reality of their bondage fueled an old fear. In flashes, Enyd remembered the ropes around her ankles and wrists put there by the Directorate. The scars she’d intentionally left on her skin ached at the memory, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she actively fought against the desire to hyperventilate.

Rationally she knew everything would be okay. They were not about to die. Alistair was not about to die in her arms, bleeding out from a wound she should have taken instead. It didn’t help matters that Drauc was only just released from the sickbay just that day after spending three days recovering from their outing to the mountain. Javec had died. Victor had been heartbroken. Drauc had ended up in a coma. Enyd had spoken lightly of a potential curse earlier but now the lighthearted teasing came back to taunt her, and Enyd squeezed her eyes shut against the internal whisperings of her toxicity to men.

Unaware of the whimper that hummed out of her throat, Enyd lowered her head until she could tuck her face against Alistair’s neck. While she could still hear the audience's laughter and continued taunts and jests coming from the ignorant Klingon thespians, at least the lights were blocked with her face pressed so close to his skin. Breathing in, Enyd felt a portion of the knot in her stomach ease at the familiarity of a masculine scent. It would be okay. Everything was going to be okay. Enyd wiggled her face closer, tucking herself more firmly into Alistair’s body regardless of the situation. Alistair would not die merely because he’d seen and touched her naked flesh.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Okay, maybe I should've given up.

The glum realisation occurred to Alistair far too late as the ropes bound him and Enyd together. It was profoundly awkward, particularly as Enyd struggled to keep their bare torsos from being pressed against each other. Alistair struggled against the ropes simply by instinct, both excited and anxious about whatever Yuvvor had planned. His heart was racing, adrenaline raging through him...

...then he saw Yuvvor come closer, an evil look in her eye, and the excitement twisted into the far more familiar anxiety.

"No, wait!" he cried out, but to no avail as Yuvvor reached between him and Enyd and, with frightening dexterity, rendered him fully naked before Qo'nos. The crowd roared at seeing his buttocks, and with his bared groin pressed against Enyd's, Alistair felt as if he'd catch fire from his embarrassment. Yuvvor and Klar were exchanging banter with the audience, but he was no longer listening.

Enyd was in trouble. Her cheeks were scrunched up, stress lines forming, as her body quivered. Her distressed whimper pierced Alistair, and he desperately tried to work his arms out of the ropes, wincing at the burn on his skin. The noise of the crowd felt sinister now as Enyd nuzzled his chest, as if seeking sanctuary, until finally, Alistair managed to get his arms free and enclose her within his embrace

"Hey, I'm here, I'm here, you're not alone," he murmured into her ear, bending his head down, trying not to think about his stiffening manhood between them. The physical proximity to a beautiful woman, her own breasts pressed against him, the sudden fresh air on his buttocks and all the exhiliration of the moment made arousal inevitable, if mortifying. "Focus on my voice Enyd, I'm with you, focus on-argh!"

Alistair yelped as he and Enyd finally lost balance, teetering over. Only blind instinct had him twist to hit the floor first, eliciting a pained grunt with Enyd atop him, still in his arms. The crowd laughed at their misfortune, and for the first time in longer than remember, Alistair felt anger, the urge to strike out at those stupid Klingons...strip them naked and tie them up in public, see how they like it...

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Though Alistair’s body cushioned the brunt of the fall, Enyd’s forehead still cracked against the stage. Groaning out her pain, Enyd fought against the ropes further as her body instinctively sought to curl into the fetal position for comfort and protection. She registered Alistair’s voice, comprehended his words, and even noted the ramping concern coloring the edges of his voice, but she could not yet say much beyond chattered words. But she was spared the failing effort by the returned appearance of the director. To much booing and even a few thrown food items, the director forcibly told Yuvvor and Klar to loosen the ropes, thanked Alistair and Enyd for their participation at the same time that he firmly informed the audience the volunteers were excused from the stage for a wardrobe change. Enyd pulled her bruised head back just long enough to catch Alistair’s eyes before she felt a strong pair of Klingon hands on her shoulders.

The ropes loosened and pulled away, it was easy for Klar to hoist Enyd off Alistair by her shoulders. It was also easy for him to pass Enyd over Alistair’s head to the waiting Yuvvor, eliciting another round of uproarious laughter from the audience as both of Enyd’s breasts bobbed their way over and past Alistair’s face. Closing her eyes, Enyd did her best to ignore the feeling of his face passing through the valley of her cleavage. Earlier, through the panic of their predicament, Enyd had thought she’d felt something firm pressed against her belly, but it wasn’t until this moment that the reality caught up to her. Eyes popping open, Enyd looked down her chest, with her swaying breasts, to see glimpse the top of his head, his face still sheltered from view in her very bosom. How terrible for Alistair! If aroused, despite himself, there would be no way for him to hide it from view. As Klar continued to hand her over to Yuvvor, Enyd’s feet were draped on either side of Alistair’s body, her knees now about to his ribcage, and the last portion of her dress all that was still hiding Alistair’s intimate region from the audience.

Twisting her feet to hook under his torso as an anchor, Enyd dropped her hands to the ground and jerked against Yuvvor’s hold. Poor Alistair would feel the pressure of her sternum against his nose, but it was for a good cause. To her surprise, Yuvvor let go, probably more interested in seeing what it was Enyd intended than in complying with the director’s wishes to have them leave the stage. Rocking back to sit on her heels, Enyd raised up to a seated position, her lacy underwear brushing against Alistair’s bare skin.

“How about we have the wardrobe change here?” Enyd glared at Yuvvor, putting her hands on her hips. Enyd could hear the wobble in her voice, the earlier panic still working its way out of her system and being replaced with pure determination to conquer this moment with her dignity in tact, and Alistair’s too. “In fact, how about a wardrobe exchange?” Enyd looked to the audience and raise a single eyebrow, hoping they would be as eager to see Klingon nudity as they had been for humans.

She was not disappointed. There were jeers and cheers, and some clothing was tossed on stage—apparently, the audience members wanted to join in as well. Yuvvor licked her lips, gaze lingering on Enyd’s chest before she looked back to Klar with a coy smirk. Returning to a wide-legged stance, Yuvvor tossed her head. For the moment, it seemed as if the humans were going to take backstage in attention. What a relief!

“Do you think you can adjust my wardrobe, Klar?”

With the audience and their “co-hosts” distracted by the newfound wrestling match between Klar and Yuvvor, Enyd looked back down to Alistair. Though the buttons had been ripped off, he still had his shirt on. If he wrapped it around his waist, he could use it for some modesty, with her walking in front of him to block the audience’s view as they made their exit stage left. Enyd was quick to voice her suggestion, leaning forward to tug at the hem of his shirt as she explained her plan.

“And, um,” her hand lightly resting on his chest, Enyd leaned forward more, conscious but uncaring of how her hardened nipples fluttered over his chest, “I’m sorry about my panic earlier. Long story. Can share over a very LARGE pint once we get out of this.”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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"Looking forward to it," Alistair said dumbly, still somewhat out of it from his journey through the valley of Enyd's breasts. He was still hyper-aware of Enyd's proximity, of everywhere that they were touching, which didn't do him any favours in trying to rein in his stiffening manhood as it perked up the bottom of Enyd's dress. The laughter and cheers of the crowd only added to the absurdity of the situation.

"So, uh, good plan, happy to see that you're okay," he said slowly as he looked up at Enyd, "but it'd be tricky to pull off. Put on, I mean. Wrap on. Tie on? Underneath your dress." Alistair looked supremely awkward, his prior confidence having vanished, but he barrelled through regardless, trying fervently not to think about how he now knew exactly what Enyd's underwear felt like, or the touch of her nipples, or how strong her thighs were. "I appreciate your concern, and your cover, but the rabbit is out of the hat. I might as well try to act with what little dignity I have left instead of slinking off. You know, acting like a proper Starfleet officer and all that stuff. You can...er...go ahead and get up now."

After Enyd got to her feet, Alistair took a deep breath, then stood up as well, and just like that, he was fully exposed to the world. It was a profoundly exhilirating sensation to be fully naked, his erect manhood bared to so many people, although he also felt as if he might catch fire from how hot he felt. Even with the distraction of Yuvvor and Klar, plenty of the audience noticed him. Alistair hurriedly bent down and pulled up his pants, although he was horrified to see that Yuvvor had broken the clasp of the belt, so the pants hung more loosely than he liked, with all the attendent consequences.

Taking Enyd's hand, Alistair led her off stage, and breathed a sigh of relief when he was out of view. Feeling his arousal begin to calm down now that they were out of the spotlight, he remembered that Enyd was still topless and handling it with much more grace than he had. Alistair duly took his shirt and offered it to her, smiling self-consciously.

"If you want to cover up,"he offered, deliberately looking Enyd in the eye. "That was certainly an...experience. You were brilliant, by the way. Definitely doing good things for Starfleet's reputation in the Empre, assuming that someone recognised us."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Nodding to his resignation, Enyd offered what she hoped would be interpreted as an encouraging remark, “At least they won’t readily forget the show we’ve given them. More points to Starfleet.”

It was difficult to get up without knocking into Alistair’s…rod of awareness…proof of paying attention…erect staff of concentration... Her skirts certainly didn’t help matters. Even after getting her leg swung over, so she was kneeling at his side, her back to the audience, giving Alistair a little privacy to get up, there was a problem. In her efforts to get her feet under her, Enyd tipped forward and face-planted on Alistair’s lower abdomen. Though the moment was brief, Enyd’s cheek still felt warm from where the soft flesh of his member had bounced against it before she righted herself with flaming red ears and matching complexion and finally got to her feet. 

She stood still on the stage long enough for Alistair to hoist up his trousers. Enyd was not so experienced in the art of physical intimacy to have a “list” for comparison on Alistair’s…equipment. She had only ever been intimate with Javec sexually, kissed Victor, and later Drauc, and in the interim of all that, knew how to please herself. Obviously, compared to Klar, Alistair was smaller. Still, Enyd knew enough about the basics of sexuality to know that length or girth were not the only variables to note when adding up the requirements for pleasure. For women, sex began in the brain as much as it was connected to the body, and standing here, holding Alistair’s hand, she knew that IF circumstances were altered and she’d been given a choice between Klar and Alistair based on size alone, she would still choose Alistair.

She followed mutely behind Alistair as he led her off stage. He didn’t let go until they stood in the darkened side wings of the stage. Enyd glanced over her shoulder to watch the antics of their former captors. The audience was still in uproarious bright spirits as Klar and Yuvvor continued to paw at one another, various pieces of clothing being ripped or shredded as their act unfolded. Feeling something brush against her arm, Enyd returned her attention to Alistair and noted he held out his shirt, his toned chest and arms now fully exposed. Enyd shivered as she accepted the shirt. She’d almost forgotten about the shredded state of the top of her dress. The shoulder and sleeves remaining intact led to a strange sensation of feeling clothed though she was very much not.

“Thank you,” though the act was downright silly at this point, Enyd twisted her torso away from Alistair as she pulled on his shirt and buttoned the only remaining button at the top. It did only marginally better than nothing at all, but she could at least hold the sides of it together once they left and were in crowds again.

“I think you handled everything like a champion, Alistair, have you thought about joining the diplomatic corps?” Enyd rolled up the shirt sleeve of her left arm and just started on her right as she turned to face him. “You didn’t have an almost panic attack and acted as a rock for me.” Enyd stopped. After a millisecond of thought and throwing caution to the wind, Enyd placed both hands on his chest and leaned up on her tiptoes to place a soft kiss directly against his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered against Alistair’s skin before she lowered herself to her heels again.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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"Any time," Alistair said, smiling warmly even as butterflies ran rampage through his stomach. No matter how old and experienced he became, it seemed, being kissed by a beautiful woman never seemed to lose its magic. "I'd be a terrible diplomat, but I did get trained in similar stuff. De-escalation, negotiation, body language, official protocol, cultural interaction, counseling. People who work for the DTI spend a lot of time with temporal refugees, so we're expected to have a broad skill-set. I was never particularly good at that part of the job, but it is fulfilling."

He stood there for a few more moments, looking down into Enyd's green eyes with a goofy smile, before he realised that the silence was stretching to an awkward extent. Clearing his throat, Alistair stepped back to glance at the stage and blanched.

"Okay, they're both...yep, both naked now, and...uh...some of the audience...right...um...yep, that's happening," he said as Hu'ler poetically challenged Klar (itself quite a baffling sight as she no longer had a scrap of clothing on her) to see who could delay climax the longest. In response, he encouraged his fellow men to win the same challenge in a bizarre battle of the sexes, amping up the crowd even further. Facepalming, Alistair glanced at Enyd sheepishly. "Okay, you were right earlier. It's definitely an orgy now."

He noticed the diminuitive director approaching, but the old Klingon didn't venture on stage, simply crossing his arms and watching the show with bemusement. Alistair stared at him in bafflement. "Er...hi. Are you going to stop them, like you did earlier, and then with us?

The director sighed. "Do I look like a fool to you? The crowd would rip me to shreds. This is part of the improvisational art form. If it happens, it happens. I only pulled you two out of there because aliens cannot be expected to partake. The Federation would go berserk, then the Chancellor would have my head. Perhaps literally. Jumped up commoners never do appreciate the classics."

He looked at Enyd with a modicum of compassion which, to his credit, actually looked genuine. "On behalf of this establishment, I offer my apologies if your honour was defiled. Such things are rare here. This is only my third show in sixty years of directing to become this wild, and Yuvvor's first. Mass brawls are one thing, and more common, but orgies are different. The war has affected us more than we thought."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

“With your swagger and charm, chiseled abs, and pert,” Enyd glanced down his body to where Alistair held his pants closed, “appendages, you’d make a killing with the Betazoids.”

Enyd patted his shoulder to lessen the teasing blow before she followed his gaze back toward the audience, where nearly everyone was in some stage of undress or another, and most were either pleasuring their partner or themselves to the beat of a live band that had just transported on stage.

Enyd had to hold the folds of Alistair’s shirt to keep it from falling off as she doubled over with laughter. “Our first date was an orgy! Oh my, Alistair, what would your mother think? My grandmother would’ve had your ears nailed to her parlor wall for certain.”

The director reappeared around that time, and his response to Alistair’s “prudish” comment had Enyd giggling yet more. Of course, improv orgies would be considered an art form on Qo’Nos. After what they’d just lived through, Enyd didn’t think she’d be surprised if they brought out a greased up targ and whoever chased it down had to eat the thing with their bare hands without grimacing. His comment directly to Enyd had her smiling and giving him a nod in response.

“I will admit there were a few moments of concern for me. Some old memories I’ve yet to conquer fully. But overall, I appreciate the opportunity to participate in a traditional Klingon art form.” She reached out her hand, careful not to let the shirt gape, and placed it on the man’s shoulder. “The results of the war will continue to manifest in mysterious ways. Which is why places like this, and programs such as your own, are so vital to lead the people into a new and glorious age. Out of the ashes even stronger.”

The director’s chest puffed slightly at her words, then turned as an aide came running up holding two PADDs for the director. He smirked at the contents before holding them out for Alistair and Enyd.

“We have a series of our own that we will keep posted in the hall of fame for our best shows. But we wanted to gift you some highlights of your endeavors on stage. These PADDs hold a series of images and vids for you to scan in the future, should you ever wish to reminisce on this day.” He turned to speak softly to his aide before gesturing for Enyd and Alistair to follow the young man, “Please, my aide will take you backstage. There is a dressing room with old operatic costumes you may wear for the rest of your evening and please keep them as another gift. I have not met many humans who would have adjusted to these circumstances with as much enthusiasm, and I am deeply grateful for that. I’ll have another assistant bring you O'mat Gri T'M pffiots. I believe you both earned food and drink for all that has occurred.”

The concept of having a traditional Klingon opera outfit as a gift had Enyd’s eyes lighting up, as did the promise of free food and drink. After all the ups and downs of the stage, Enyd was of a thirst that only liquor could quench. Reaching out, Enyd grabbed Alistair’s hand and tugged him alongside her. She didn’t want him to think of some lame excuse to run back to the ship or refuse the Klingon hospitality. Enyd gave his hand a squeeze and a reassuring smile as the moved further in the bowels of the theater until the aide left them at a candlelit dressing room barely the size of the common area of her quarters. Every available surface was covered with costume paraphernalia—wigs, fake weapons, fake blood, makeup—and costumes lined the walls to the extent you couldn’t tell there was a wall. There was one small oval mirror with an equally small dressing table with a single chair, but it seemed prior occupants had used various piles of costumes to sit on as they liked. The aide left them immediately after showing them inside and thankfully left the door open. Enyd had half expected the door to close with a click, marking this as another terrible shenanigan of Klingon comedy.

Grabbing a hideous-looking mask depicting a hound of hell, Enyd held it up over her face and turned to Alistair, “Do you think this matches my shoes?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Busy inspecting some of the outfits, Alistair glanced back at Enyd and regarded her in bafflement for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Sorry, that's just a really odd image," he said inbetween chuckles. "The mask, shirt, dress...I was just imagining you turning up to some important negotiation like that. You'd confuse the living daylights out of everyone in the room."

Returning to his perusal, Alistair was quiet for a couple of minutes. Finally he gasped. "Oh wow. Wow wow wow...I know this! From What's Right is What's Left!" He pulled an outfit out, looking at it in astonishment. "This is the outfit of...uh...what's his name...Bon...Bub...Bor...Bob? Bob! Bob'naj, that was it, son of Slauj the Left." Realising that he was rambling, Alistair smiled apologetically at Enyd. "It was a play that I saw on Tellar, years ago. A Klingon theatre company was doing a tour of the Federation. I don't think they're the same company as these guys, but this has to be the same outfit!"

Full of enthusiasm, Alistair wasted no time taking off his shoes, and then his pants. Modesty, he reasoned, had gone out the window long ago. Reduced to his underwear, Alistair promptly began putting on the tunic. "See the scratches, and where it's been repaired? They use real bat'leths and fight for real in the climax, Bob'naj against his father. The actors improvise depending on how the fight goes, so it's never the same ending twice, and they always stay in character, no matter the real injury. I saw it...what, six times in two months? Didn't regret a moment. I never forgot this outfit."

After he was done with the straps, Alistair grinned sheepishly at Enyd. The sleeveless tunic showed off his biceps to good effect, while the lower flaps barely reached his knees, similarly displacing his muscular legs. "If getting thwapped in the face with a giant Klingon penis is what it takes, then I'd say it was all worth it, right?" He glanced back at the rack, frowning. "I know that there are armoured pants that go with this, but I don't see them..."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Laughing at the mental image of her negotiation efforts dressed such as she was, with a snarling L’Nari lurking in the shadows, Enyd shook her head before dropping the mask. She was certain for some cultures out there, the outfit would be enough to get negotiations moving, and for others, the dichotomy of the mask to the rest of her get-up would be diverting enough to pique curiosity. But for those coming to the negotiation table presently—that of the Romulans and Klingons—it was not likely to do much more than amuse or confuse.

While Alistair pawed through his side of the room, Enyd began her own more tentative digging, only stopping to gaze at her companion as he fawned over the tunic he found. She’d never seen the opera he spoke of, not that she was a connoisseur of many things Klingon in any regard, but from the excitement in his eyes, Enyd could still wish to have seen the opera with Alistair if only to continue to bask in his enthusiasm at the moment.

“I mostly watched the great Tellarite debates while I was stationed there for my studies. I was so busy being fascinated by the Tellarite’s themselves that I didn’t bother much with other cultures during my time there. But it sounds like a lovely story. If you ever hear tell of it coming up when we’re in the neighborhood to see it, I demand to go with you.” She wagged a finger at him in a feigned threatening way, already knowing how ridiculous she would look doing so, considering her outfit was still in shambles.

Once Alistair began to kick off his shoes, Enyd turned her back to allow him some semblance of privacy and returned her attention to the mountain of outfits before her. She really only needed something to cover the top since her skirt was still in one piece. The first top she found that seemed to offer a solution only brought a smirk of amusement once she inspected it further. While it seemed to have the shape and general form of an old Terran corset, with a variety of metal buckets and spikes lining the bone ridges of the otherwise black fabric, it wrapped around all parts of a woman’s torso EXCEPT for over her breasts. If anything, the way it would wind up under a chesty woman, it would emphasize even the smallest of breasts. Enyd glanced over her shoulder and seeing Alistair clad in the tunic, sans armored pants, she couldn’t help but giggle before turning and holding up the aggressively sexual corset for his study.

“What do you think?” She held it over the folds of his shirt, careful not to allow any skin to show so it would be entirely his imagination that tripped him up if he was going to get tripped. “The black metal would actually match well with my black lace.” Winking at his expression, Enyd lowered the corset then dropped it entirely in favor of picking up knee-high platform boots. “If you can’t find the pants, these might work to cover most of your legs.”

She tossed the boots in his direction with another laugh before turning to paw through the pile yet again. This time she found a corset (https://altfashion.co.uk/images/woman-wearing-gothic-corset.jpg) that did not have cap sleeves like the other, offered ten times the amount of metal buckets and leather straps, the chest area heavy with the sharp metal studs spiking out like armor. It was perfect. Not only would it cover her entire top half sufficiently, but the dichotomy of deathly sensual top to feminine, soft bottom would lend itself to Alistair’s more traditional garb to showcase their continued fantastical adventure.

Like Alistair, Enyd didn’t bother trying to hide before she shed his shirt from her shoulders and removed the last vestiges of her shredded top. She was unaware of the fact that with her present position in the room, if he chose to look at the vanity mirror, he would have a full view of her breasts as they bounced and swayed in her efforts to pull on the corset without getting poked or stabbed in the process. While she was able to cinch in most of the straps, there remained two buckles in the back that she couldn’t reach without help. Letting out a dog-like whimper, Enyd backed toward Alistair, one hand holding her disheveled hair to the side while the other pointed to the awkwardly placed straps she needed help with.

“Do be a gentleman, Alistair, and strap me in properly.”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Upon seeing the breast-highlighting corset, Alistair did a double-take, his imagination most certainly being up to the challenge. He only just had the werewithal to catch the absurd boots, laughing along with Enyd, unable to help himself. After setting the enormous platform boots aside, Alistair turned to go hunting for more clothing, hoping to find some pants that would both fit and not accidentally skewer Enyd's legs if she got too close.

It was as he picked up a promising pair of boots (https://www.gladiator-polo.com/image/cache/data/STAR%20WARS/Star%20Trek/Kling%20On/Variation%20I/Star%20Trek%20Klingon%20Boots%20Variation%201%201-700x700.jpg) and started trying them on that Alistair caught sight of Enyd in the mirror, putting on a different corset. Enyd in the mirror, topless. Enyd in the mirror, breasts exposed and...bouncing. It seemed ridiculous given everything that had happened onstage, when he'd had ample opportunity to witness Enyd's bared upper torso at very close range, but the intimacy of the confined room, the close silence, made the sight all the more exhilirating.

With determination, Alistair focused on putting on the boots, trying valiantly to keep his eyes fixed on what he was doing. He was not the sort of man who could be hypnotised by a random pair of breasts! Granted, Enyd wasn't random, and her body was so nicely shaped with perfectly cute breasts that complimented her frame so nicely...but that was besides the point. In any case, Alistair always did prefer a nice rear end, not just breasts, darn it!

Naturally, this line of thought led to ponderings on Enyd's ass, which didn't help matters in the slightest. So distracted was Alistair by his musings on Enyd's body and his determination not to peek (again), he completely missed that he was putting on new boots before finding any pants. Befuddled, it took Alistair a moment to register that Enyd was asking for help.

"Oh, uh, gentleman, right, of course," he said quickly as Enyd backed up to him. Alistair examined the corset and, after identifying the required straps, firmly cinched them on. He lightly clasped Enyd's shoulders to indicate that she was good to go. When Enyd turned round, however, they were suddenly very close to each other, enclosed by the cluttered warmth of the dressing room, surrounded by silence and dim light, Enyd looking up at him with her vivid green eyes, him looking back, his heart hammering painfully...

...which was the exact moment that the door opened. The director's aide stood in the bright doorway, either not realising or not caring that he'd interrupted them.

"If you'll both follow me now, I'll take you to the private lounge where we have food and drink prepared for our honoured guests." the aide said in a bored tone of voice. The young man, barely in his twenties, stepped aside to allow them past. "Whenever you're ready."

"Oh, uh, right, thanks," Alistair said in a rush as he ran a hand over his scalp, blushing madly and grinning like the idiot he was. Glancing down, he shrugged. "Oh, forget the pants, the flaps go down to my knees anyway, so I'm, uh, good to go."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

The brief touch of his fingers against bare skin sent electric thrills through Enyd’s body. She didn’t bother trying to disguise the shiver nor excuse the gooseflesh that covered her skin when she felt the comforting weight of his warm hands on her shoulders. There was something so keenly intimate about the moment, even though he’d been helping her get dressed instead of undressing her. Not for the first time in the evening, Enyd’s stomach did little flip-flops. She turned to face him; lips parted to voice her gratitude when her voice died in her throat.

Ice blue met emerald green in mirrored looks of increasing awareness. It was illogical to feel such a gravitational pull to the svelte man now. They’d literally been tied together, private parts mashed together, just minutes ago, and yet Enyd felt more pleasurably vulnerable now. Perhaps the lack of audience lent itself to the ramping sense of desire. Enyd couldn’t stop her glance toward his lips. The press of her earlier kiss had been brief, almost platonic compared to what she suddenly wanted. Enyd licked her lips…

And nearly fell on her arse in her efforts to scramble away from Alistair when the door opened, and the aide returned. Hiding her near fall under the guise of smoothing her skirts and double-checking the straps of the corset, Enyd glared up through her hair at the Klingon. Really she should be thankful for his arrival, not annoyed. Growing more physically and emotionally intimate with Alistair while she was in the “unknown waiting area” with Drauc could potentially backfire to an epic level. Even she didn’t know her own thoughts on the matter—of whether she was open to pursuing equal relationships with both men at the same time—and until she could talk matters over with Drauc, or broach the subject with Alistair, there was no way of knowing their thoughts either. After all, it wasn’t just about her. They deserved respect, and her tossing aside respect for boundaries in favor of momentary pleasure was something her grandmother would’ve skinned her alive for even thinking about.

Enyd was the first to move toward the door to follow the aide, stopping to look over her shoulder at Alistair’s last moments of looking for pants and then giving up on them. Her pause of worry over potential backfire vanished as she caught the brief flashes of Alistair’s legs through the tunic’s flaps. The armored boots without pants somehow made the outfit more adorable and less aggressive, as if he’d been in the middle of a nap, or something more intimate, when he’d heard a noise in the house and threw on what was closest to go investigate.

Sharing this mental image with Alistair as they followed the aide, Enyd giggled, reaching out to take Alistair’s hand in her own and giving it a playful squeeze. “You would go investigate the strange noises in the house in the middle of the night, wouldn’t you?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer before the aide opened the door to the private lounge and basically pushed them inside. Enyd’s mouth dropped open in amused disbelief. If it was possible for an Orion sex den designer somehow to glean influence from the spartan aesthetic of Vulcan lounges and combine efforts with a certain mischievous Andorian woman she knew back on the ship, then this was evidence of such a feat happening. Her eyes didn’t know what to focus on first, the plethora of beads draped from the ceiling and dripping down the walls, the bedazzled lanterns hanging overhead, the fur-covered couches and lounge chairs that looked boxy and uncomfortable, the thick, plushy carpet that covered the entirety of the floor, the prominent pole stabbed into a platform in the middle of the circular lounge area, or the roaring fire in the corner lending its amber glow to the ambiance of the room. A conference-sized table sat against the wall beside the door and groaned from the amount of food and beverage laid out on it. Enyd felt this was where the after-party was set to take place, and they’d merely been ushered in before the show's end.

“Oh good, they have firewine.” Enyd let go of Alistair’s hand, only realizing she’d still kept it captured in hers, and made a beeline for the pitcher. “It isn’t the strongest stuff they have on here. And I adore the spiced ‘burn’ of the aftertaste.” She poured herself a glass and then looked toward Alistair with a silent question.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Rather enjoying the feel of Enyd's hand in his own, Alistair was about to respond to Enyd's good-natured teasing when the door opened. He looked around in astonishment, taken back by the shameless decor. A quick glance aside confirmed that Enyd was similarly stunned, which was a relief, at least. As she headed for the table, Alistair stepped further into the room, looking around in a mix of curiosity and bemusement.

Seeing Enyd looking at him in askance, he smiled back. "Oh yes, please," he said, moving to join her at the table. Taking his glass, he raised it to toast. "To a memorable night," he said before sipping the forewine and sighing in appreciation. "Oh wow, I forgot how good this stuff is. It's been years since I last had some."

Alistair looked over the table, and he winced as he gestured at a bowl of innocent-looking chips amidst the more exotic Klingon food. "I don't know half the stuff here, but...well, I recommend staying away from those chips. I don't remember what they're called, but after eating half a dozen, you'd be singing the Klingon imperial anthem as you wrestle anyone and everyone in sight. At least, that's what my friends told me about that night. All I remember is going to the party and then waking up in the starbase infirmary ten hours later."

Smiling in mild embarrassment, Alistair gestured at the pole in the centre of the lounge. "Anyway, Enyd, do you have any idea what that thing is? Is it...uh, some Klingon cultural thing that I'm missing?"

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd raised her eyebrows in a show of agreement as she shamelessly drained her glass and refilled a second in the time it took him to take one sip. Only Zark knew how much she enjoyed drinking and how much Enyd could pack away without suffering ill effects. Of course, she’d met her match with the steaming liquor on the mission with L’Nari, and only two cups had flattened her to a giggling mess. However, this firewine would take the whole tankard for her to feel a buzz. And after all that they’d gone through, Enyd very much wanted to feel a buzz.

For that reason, as soon as Alistair finished his warning against the chips, Enyd made a beeline for them with a gleeful smile. Mischievous grin on her face, she lifted on medium-sized chip and nibbled on its edge. It was a strange savory ginger taste somehow mixed with the Klingon equivalent of cumin and honey. Although confusing to her tastebuds, the texture was pleasant, and keeping her gaze on Alistair’s face, Enyd shoved the rest of the chip into her mouth and chewed with an audible hum of satisfaction.

She snagged a second chip, promising herself not to get anymore, before sashaying closer to Alistair and the pole. That he didn’t know what it was for had Enyd smirking. Taking a small bite from her chip and then washing it down with a sip of the firewine, she presented her elbow to Alistair.

“Help a gal out, eh?” It took some effort on both their parts, but soon enough, Enyd was standing on the circular platform and leaning her back against the pole, eyes glued to Alistair’s face as she continued to nibble at the chip, a single eyebrow rising. “Are you sure you don’t know what this is for?” She popped the last of the chip in her mouth and downed the last of her firewine. “I can demonstrate its use.”

Enyd didn’t warn him before she tossed her empty glass in his direction and turned to face the pole. Her background in ballet and cultural dances did not make her an expert pole dancer, but she knew enough of the basics to at least throw around some moves that may or may not impress the man likely gaping behind her.

“I’ve no idea how to get the music to play in here, so just imagine something slow and sensual in your head.” She looked over her shoulder at him and offered a playful wink. “And make yourself comfortable.”

The tips of her fingers were tingling, as was the sensitive skin of her lips, and she felt a pleasantly warm throb build between her legs. Enyd knew her skin was flushing and also knew that it wasn’t from the firewine or the anticipation of making a fool of herself in front of Alistair. It was the effects of the two chips, and it both intrigued and somewhat worried her that she was already feeling the effects. Would it build further? Was it connected to her downing the firewine and not eating something more substantial? Enyd giggled, reaching out and grabbing hold of the pole. Whatever it was, it felt fucking fantastic.

There again was no warning for poor Alistair before Enyd started moving to the music in her head. She widened her legs to hip-width and bent forward, sliding the side of her neck slowly down the edge of the pole as she “walked” her hands over themselves to touch the floor. The loose tresses of her hair pooled on the ground as a halo beneath her as she let go of the pole and smoothed her hands down the back of her legs. It was almost a shame that her skirt was so full. While the cut still allowed Alistair to perceive she had a nicely shaped arse, it disallowed for him to see her legs.

Head dangling near her feet, Enyd squatted, thrusting her arse out and down in a slow undulating move. She then reached one arm up, grabbed the pole again, and used the grip to mimic pulling herself up and out of something gooey, having to wiggle and squirm her way up the pole until she was again leaning against it, having shifted to have it at her back. Enyd raised her other arm to join the first over her head, taking hold of the pole with both hands as she again widened her stance and repeated the squatting motion, this time facing Alistair.

Again, Enyd felt disappointed that the skirt hid the details accompanying the wide squat from Alistair’s view. She wasn’t aware of the petulant pout that appeared on her face before she let go of the pole, keeping its cool firmness at her back. Enyd placed the palms of her hands on her knees and, keeping her eyes locked with Alistair’s, she slowly pulled her hands back towards her body, allowing the movement to lift the hem of her skirt until the bottom line was just below her knees. With the shadows of the room, it was unlikely that Alistair could glimpse the lacy of her underwear, but it still thrilled Enyd knowing that if he had keen eyes, he might’ve seen something.

“Are you ready?” Her voice was huskier than normal, and Enyd was still rational enough to note that it was from arousal, and the arousal was definitely from those delightful chips. Perhaps when she was done, she should have more…

Enyd stood up, grabbed the pole with one hand, and hooking a knee around it, Enyd pushed off with her other leg. The intent was to swing around the pole as she slid down it. Only pole dancing was not made for skirts like what she was wearing, nor was it something someone under the influence of Klingon mystery chips should attempt. So instead of executing the graceful swing she’d envisioned in her mind, Enyd crashed to the podium in a fit of hapless giggles and rolled off the side onto the carpeted floor.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Taken aback by how swiftly Enyd poured another glass, Alistair became downright alarmed when she made for the deceptively innocent-looking chips. He told himself that no, there wasn't a chance, she wouldn't...until she did.

"No, wait!" he exclaimed, holding out his hands as Enyd took a defiant nibble, followed by another. "That's a really...bad...idea...oh hell, you're really...doing...it..crap." Alistair facepalmed, chuckling despite himself. In retrospect, given everything that he'd seen of Enyd thus far, it should've been predictable.

Completely ignorant of what was to come next, Alistair took his glass and sat down in one of the bulky chairs, wondering idly what Enyd had in mind as he enjoyed his drink. A Klingon ritual? A game? Some odd form of Klingon combat training? Anything was possible, but Alistair was confident that he'd experienced enough of Klingon culture to be prepared.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Alistair's mouth dropped open as Enyd began her sensual dance. His eyes roved over body like never before as she moved up and down, taking in her shapely rear as she pushed it out. Breathless, Alistair wanted to see the skirt removed, to see her legs and ass properly, but his dazzled mind could only hope that such excitement was coming. In the meantime, he smiled in appreciation as Enyd danced, his heart racing as she teased raising her skirt.

When Enyd asked (in a devilishly husky voice) whether he was ready, Alistair could only grunt hoarsely before finishing his glass. Words were a bit beyond him in that moment. Even so, when Enyd abruptly fell off the poll in a mess of skirt and giggles, he was on his feet quite quickly.

"Woah," he said as he hurried over to her and knelt down, gently rolling Enyd onto her back. "Are you okay? Anything hurting?" After a moment, Alistair grinned. "Those chips have one heck of a kick, huh? We should probably beam back to the ship, just to play it-"

He was cut off by the door opening behind them. Glancing over his shoulder, Alistair's eyes widened as Klar and Yuvvor walked in, both laughing, and both (mercifully) wearing thin wraparound gowns. The two performers stopped in their tracks when they noticed the humans on the floor.

"Oh, we appear to be interrupting," Yuvvor said smoothly, her eyes twinkling. "We'll come back in a few minutes."

"Bah, so what if we are?" Klar countered with a grin. "We could watch, give tips, a good critique of the performance."

Alistair blushed madly as he helped Enyd onto her feet, smiling awkwardly at the two Klingons who (despite Yuvvor's suggestion) closed the door behind them. He was suddenly extremely conscious that his lower legs were quite bare (again), and all that protected his groin and buttocks were some easily-moved flaps and tight underwear.

"Oh, that's alright," he said with a laugh, an arm unconsciously hooked around Enyd's waist and holding her against his side. "We're not...." After a moment's consideration, he blinked as realisation dawned. "Uh...I think we're not..."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd reached up to wipe the laughter-induced tears from her eyes but swatted her hands against Alistair’s neck and brushed across his cheeks. This only fueled Enyd’s giggles as his words broke through the growing influence of those delicious chips. She nodded first to his question but then began to pout shamelessly, sticking out her lower lip to an epic degree at his suggestion to return to the ship. She opened her mouth to begin a long list of reasons why that was a terrible idea when the door opened and, strangely enough, it seemed she was being rescued from disappointment by the very Klingons who had earlier been a source of her discomfort.

Enyd had to lean heavily into Alistair’s grip as he helped her to her feet, discourse traded between him and Yuvvor, the background noise accompanying Enyd’s continued giggles. She was quite content to lean against him once she was on her feet. The weighted heat of his arm around her waist, fingers spread just below her ribs, sent little shivers of delightful pleasure darting out from all contact points. Then Klar’s comment sent a fresh wave of awareness pulsing through Enyd’s body. After making eye contact with the large Adonis of a Klingon—smirking at his wink—Enyd was suddenly struck with an idea.

She paused before acting on her idea when the gravity of Alistair’s sudden hesitation in words and action poked its head through the chip haze hovering over her consciousness. Tipping her head to look up at him, Enyd kissed the tips of her index, and middle fingers, then reached up and pressed them lightly against his lips. She lowered her hand to rest over his heart, her smile widening when she felt his heart rate. “A lady never kisses and tells,” her comment was tossed toward the Klingons but was in response to his own words.

After Klar snorted out his amusement, shifting over to gather food and drink from the table by the door, Yuvvor settled herself on one of the couches. Enyd pulled away from Alistair, though she quickly grabbed his hand to tug him behind her, and moved to sit on the smaller couch parallel to Yuvvor’s. Giving Alistair a wink along with a very obvious shushing gesture of her index finger pressed over his lips, Enyd leaned against his side as she addressed Yuvvor.

“I was trying to show Alistair how to use the pole, but I am not nearly as skilled as some of the Klingon dancers I saw over at the Orion outpost. Would either of you be willing to demonstrate an authentic dance for us? It seems my friend here had no idea of how this pole was utilized before my failed attempt.”

Klar grinned as he brought a platter of food and drink over to the small table in front of Yuvvor’s couch. He first handed a goblet to Yuvvor, took a moment to pop a piece of fruit into her mouth, then turned to face the humans with waggling eyebrows already in movement. “I taught Yuvvor everything she knows about this thing,” as he turned and hopped onto the platform, Enyd noted that he was still dressed in a thin wraparound garment. Enyd couldn’t but already feel heated curiosity whether he had anything on UNDER the gown.

Klar was still grinning like a lecher as Yuvvor opened a panel of buttons on her couch and keyed in a code. As the lighting in the room changed from a reddish hue to a dark blue one, Yuvvor nodded toward the platter Klar had brought before grabbing a handful of nuts and tossing them into her mouth. Enyd glanced at the table to see that Klar had brought them two cups of ale. The first strains of alluring music pumped into the room, and Enyd pushed off the couch, grabbed the cups of ale, then plopped back into the couch beside Alistair. Or, at least, she’d meant to plop beside him. She hadn’t been aware of how much her hips had swayed back and forth or how her quick movements had been just enough to change the angle of her return, and instead of resuming her earlier position, she was now firmly planted in his lap.

Pushing one cup into his hand and holding hers with both of her hands, Enyd tipped her head to the side long enough to shoot Alistair an unapologetic smile, whispering over the building temp of the music, “Sorry, not sorry.” The warmth of his chest against her back was comforting, and thankfully the spiky armor of her corset was only in the front and she wasn't in the process of stabbing him to death with accidental cuddles.

Klar’s first impressive move was to climb hand-over-hand up the pole to the top, where he reached up further with one hand while his legs pretended to walk in the air and lightly touched one of the dangling beaded chandeliers with his fingertips. His position swiftly changed as he slid down the pole to land on the pads of his feet, bending sideways to grab the pole closer to the floor and then reaching up toward the ceiling. Using the physics of the push-off from the bottom hand and the pull from the top, Klar hoisted himself up and extended his body fully, his entire mass now acting as an intersection with the pole. Enyd’s mouth dropped open, mouth going dry when the gown fell open to reveal that Klar was, in fact, fully nude beneath the flimsy material. Her cheeks warmed as she took a hurried sip of the ale as they continued to watch Klar manipulate his body into a twirl around the pole, still fully extended, his legs moving as if swimming through the air as he executed the slow twirl.

“He is quite good.” Enyd leaned further in Alistair’s chest, coming up and over her shoulder. “Maybe he could teach you some lessons? We could get a pole installed in your quarters?” She looked up at her companion, an impish smile on her lips. “I could make a paper-like version of credits and toss them at you while you danced, old Earth style.”

The song’s tempo changed, and without waiting for Alistair’s answer, if he had one, Enyd looked back to find Klar hanging upside down, hands grabbing the pole behind his back, then dropping his legs open spread eagle. Enyd gasped, clutching the cup tighter. Klar maintained this bold position, to much gleeful hooting from Yuvvor, as he walked down the pole until just shy of the floor, he extended his body out parallel to the floor. To get out of this position, he rolled into a ball and somehow twisted through his arms until he was standing next to the pole. It sounded as if the song was ending now, and Enyd wasn’t sure if she was happy or sad about that. As a finishing move, Klar pushed himself into a twirl around the pole, climbed up it a bit, then once more executed an impressive split, this time hooking one foot under the pole closer to the ceiling and the other foot doing the same closer to the floor, while he moved his arms through the air as if flying through the continued twirl. The Klingon was able to pull himself out of the splits and off the pole in a series of smooth movements just as the last strains of music died away, and he was left leaning against the pole, arms crossed over his chest, a bright smile on his face.

“Is that everything you were hoping it would be?” The gown fell back into place as Klar hopped down from the circular stage and accepted the offered glass of ale from Yuvvor.

Enyd laughed, “Oh indeed. Thank you. I was just encouraging Alistair to install one in his quarters back on the ship. Do you have any training vids we could download?”

Klar hooted with laughter, his eyes having taken in Alistair’s facial expression, where Enyd could not see it while speaking. Even Yuvvor laughed while her lover cum partner fell onto the couch beside her. While Klar continued to recover from his dance, Yuvvor’s eyes traveled over the pair of humans, and a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “Would you not agree that it would be a fair trade, a cultural exchange of dances? Klar has demonstrated one of ours,” she tipped her head towards the pole while keeping her eyes firmly locked with Enyd’s, “should you not demonstrate one of yours? A Terran dance of a similar nature?”

Enyd snorted, “You witnessed the result of my attempt on that thing.” She took another sip of the ale and wiggled her way off Alistair’s lap, tossing him a playful smile. “But if you have something that is between one hundred to one hundred and twenty beats per minute, I know of a type of Terran dance that shows controlled movements, and that is executed in a similar environment.” She gestured to the obvious décor and earned a hearty chortle from Klar, the man having already dug into the food on the platter while Yuvvor turned to scan through her library of songs. Enyd looked back to Alistair and smiled. “Hope you don’t mind.”

The way she spoke and stood, kicking off her shoes and sashaying a pace away from him, denoted a lack of care if he did mind. The poor man would have to bolt out the door and abandon her at this point if he wanted out of the situation. The music began, and Enyd sighed, letting her mind and body relax into the unfamiliar song for a few moments before she began. She kept her back to them at first as her first movements were subtle: fingers curling and uncurling, her wrists rotating, her arms undulating. Though the fluffy skirt hid much regarding her legs, it would not be lost to those watching that Enyd had great control over her muscles. Enyd wasn’t as well balanced, thanks to the chips and wine, and knew she’d have to forego some of the more athletic movements, but she compensated by taking a wide stance and putting more emphasis on her hips. She moved not just to the noticeable syncopated beats of the drums but also the subtle rhythms in between, like a ripple of water coming to life.

“This is a Terran lap dance,” Enyd’s voice was once more of a huskier quality as she turned to face her audience and her intended victim.

“Oh,” Klar purred from over on the couch, his arm coming around Yuvvor’s shoulder, “I think I already like this dance. Please, continue.”

Enyd nodded with a happy smile. She moved her gaze away from the Klingon thespians until she had Alistair in her sights. Balancing primarily on the pads of her feet, Enyd rolled her shoulders and circled her hips as she moved towards him. Enyd paused every breath or so to run her hands along the sensitive flesh of her arms, up, and over the curve of her hips, tracing her fingers in the air over her chest, fisting her fingers in her own hair. By now, Klar and Yuvvor would have realized this was not a quickly executed dance.  From a quick glance toward them, neither of them seemed to mind.

Once she was finally standing in the empty space just shy of his knees, Enyd leaned forward and let her fingers lightly touch his shoulders. She offered the tortured man a wink before bending back, her arms moving up the length of her own torso and extending over her head as she continued to move to the music in front of him, her hips slowly circling in a sensual, more than sexual fashion. Moving to stand upright again after nearly bending back too far, Enyd intentionally tipped forward almost immediately. Her fingers traced lightly over the tops of his shoulders, up, and down his neck, and finally up onto his skull. Her hands traveled down to his shoulders again, where she lightly pressed until he leaned further back against the cushions. Letting go, Enyd danced her fingers up her torso to her own shoulders. With a quick tug and a devilish smile, the metallic armor-like layer coating the exterior of the corset fell to the floor, leaving behind an almost sheer material that sheathed the struts of the corset itself. Enyd had noted this wardrobe trick string earlier in the dressing room and had been curious if an opportunity would arrive where she could utilize it. Voila, thanks to Klar and Yuvvor, it had.

The music continued to play, though the tempo seemed to slow in pace and in response, with slow and deliberate movements, Enyd swayed herself into a kneeling position between Alistair’s knees. Her hands lightly skimmed over the tops of his bare thighs as she leaned forward, sucking in a breath between her teeth as she felt her breasts lightly brush against the exposed flesh of his legs. Every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire, but most deliciously. One slow crawling movement at a time, Enyd traveled up the length of Alistair until her chest was at his eye level. Enyd heard Klar whistle off to the side as she shifted her hips side to side on beat with the music, moving until she could settle herself straddled across his lap.

Even in this dark light, Enyd could tell that his pupils were dilated, and she knew hers would be as well. And not only from the firewine and ecstasy-inducing chips, though these elements helped fuel her growing arousal. Enyd continued to ripple to the rhythm of the music, holding the weight of her body off and away from Alistair just enough to give him a hint of what it would feel like if she was pressed fully against him and yet denying that very feeling. Reaching down, an impish smile interrupting her own act of seduction, Enyd took hold of his hands and placed them on her hips. Enyd leaned her head down and breathed a ghost kiss over his head as she slowly lowered herself onto his body. She dragged the tip of her nose down his temple, shifting forward to leave more ghost kisses on his neck. Moving her hands between them, Enyd placed them on his thighs and suddenly pushed away, out of his grip, until she was once more between his knees and arching her arms over her head. She heard Yuvvor and Klar talking, but their words were lost to her as Enyd surged into a crouched position, pivoted on her toes, and backed her way into his body, pressing her rear intimately against him as she continued to move like a wave’s swell in response to the music.

Once more, Enyd reached for his hands and placed their warm weight on her hips before she let go to raise her arms came up over her head as she pushed upward against him. Her hips continued to move, her arms snaking back and forth, as Enyd’s face rested next to his, and they lay back-to-front, cheek-to-cheek, and with her evermore dancing to the music. She turned her head towards him as she moved lithely, slowly, deliberately, drawing out every moment. It wasn’t part of the dance, but Enyd couldn’t help nudging his cheek with her nose in a brief moment of genuine affection, aside from the learned dance. Her arms came down, and her fingers skirted over his head and around his ears. A small part of her still rational brain tried to rear up and remind her about respecting boundaries and the danger of things left unsaid or unexplained, but that was a very small part, and it was being subdued by the power of the music and the divine chips.

Though she’d never heard the song before, Enyd knew enough about music to recognize that it was drawing to a close. So, lowering her hands once more to his thighs, Enyd was slow about pushing up and off his lap. Moving forward one step, Enyd turned to face him just as the music ended. No one spoke at first, until Enyd startled away from falling into Alistair’s gaze by a round of applause from their Klingon friends.

“Now, do YOU offer training vids for US to download, human?” Klar stood and pressed another glass of ale into her hands, clinking his cup against her in a toast.

The door opened then, and more members of the backstage crew came in, immediately distracting both Yuvvor and Klar from further conversation and strangely leaving Enyd and Alistair in their own intimate human-centered bubble amidst the Klingon chaos. Sinking back onto the couch beside him, Enyd suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment as things clicked into place. She stared down at the contents of her glass as she spoke. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you, and I didn’t cross any boundaries.”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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As everyone got settled, Alistair was content to be passive. Klar had a familiar look in his eye, but when Enyd fell into Alistair's lap, he rapidly became far too comfortable to care. Enyd's warmth and weight upon him, not to mention the feel of her legs against his, had the immediate effect of lulling Alistair back into a happy stupor. Accepting the ale from Enyd, he sat back with her to watch the show. Alistair wouldn't normally choose to watch another man perform an exotic dance, of course, knowing that it wouldn't do anything for him, but he looked forward to the artistry of it.

It didn't take long for the presumption to be challenged. Alistair watched with increasing awe as Klar performed athletic feats that seemed impossible, especially for such a muscular Klingon. Even more impressive was the sensuality of the dance, enhanced by the music, and Alistair was transfixed by the power, the grace, the eroticism. Then Klar inverted, the gown dropped, the Klingon body was exposed in all its glory, and the dance was taken up a notch.

There was no question: Alistair was getting turned on. He could feel his body reacting. Enyd's position in his lap kept her ignorant, although she too was so transfixed that she likely wouldn't have noticed anyway. Alistair's mind raced with the realisaton, his cheeks burning, as he enjoyed the show.

At Enyd's teasing, he chuckled. "Don't tempt me," he said with a grin. "As Deputy Ops Chief, I could make that happen." And perhaps would make happen, if the holodeck was ill-suited to such a thing. It was a bizarre thought, but heck, Alistair wanted to pull off moves like that!

Klar's performance continued, becoming ever more spectacular and building to its climax. When he finally finished, Alistair's underwear had become very constrictive indeed. He half wondered whether, if the dance had continued or somehow escalated further, the stressed underwear might've torn outright.

When Enyd accepted Yuvvor's suggestion, it became immediately obvious that Alistair was about find out.

Enyd's dance was hypnotic, mesmerising, and she had Alistair ensnared in moments. Her touch was intimate, far more arousing than anything else thus far that night, and he could do nothing but sit and endure. When Enyd pivoted and brushed her derriere against his crotch, Alistair inhaled sharply. Klar and Yuvvor were forgotten. The Theurgy was forgotten. The universe had contracted to just the two of them, where they touched, the way Enyd looked at him, the affectionate way her nose brushed his cheek.

Finally, inevitably, the dance ended, both of them gazing at each other, still locked away in their own little world. The applause shattered the illusion, jolting them back to reality, and Alistair leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, taking a deep breath to collect himself. The sudden entry of various Klingons was a welcome (and much needed) distraction, allowing Enyd to also take a break from the intensity of the past half hour.

At Enyd's worry, Alistair pondered for a moment. "Well, about those boundaries..." he said softly as he reached up to place a finger on Enyd's jaw, gently turning her to face him. Slowly, intimately, his blue eyes locked on her green, he leaned forward and placed his mouth on hers, a soft and gentle kiss that only deepened.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Alistair’s words made Enyd chuckle, eyes still on her cup. His finger under her jaw didn’t startle her, and Enyd looked up with a shy smile already tugging at her lips. But then time slowed as Alistair moved closer, much as it had when Drauc kissed her or tried to kiss her. She knew Alistair was going to kiss her now. That promise was in his stare.

Enyd’s eyes widened and then crossed as she continued to track Alistair’s deliberate movements. Her breath caught in her throat; her chest raised at the apex of the sudden hitch in rhythm. The first warm touch of his lips against hers reminded her of the kiss she’d planted on him earlier. But then his tongue touched her lips, tasting her, and Enyd lost track of where she was putting her arms. Did she even have arms? She couldn’t remember where her legs were either. How had they gone missing in the span of seconds? Were Alistair’s lips coated in a drug that both numbed everything from the neck down and yet lit a fire in her belly that threatened to burst out of her throat in a scream? A mewling moan tickled her throat as Enyd was filled with a need to get close to him, be inside him, if possible, and feel him everywhere all at once…

She would have plenty of opportunity to watch the show of lustful their antics later, compliments of the recording devices that were strategically placed throughout the room. As a parting gift from a smirking Klar, unbeknownst to either Alistair or Enyd at the time, they would receive copies of EVERYTHING that had happened on stage and backstage. And in the quiet of her room, once sober, Enyd could relive the vague memories afresh as she watched how Alistair’s tentative kiss had been the matchstick to the cauldron of desire broiling in her belly. She would hear the gasped cry of shameless desire as she threw her body against his, pressing his back against the cushions and dropping her cup of ale to the ground as she crawled atop him. Enyd’s eyes would go wide, and her cheeks would flush crimson as she watched her own hands rove over Alistair’s body as if trying to feel everything all at once while her mouth angled over his, her kiss mimicking the movements her hips instinctively began as she folded herself intimately against him. She would feel anew the embarrassment of knowing she’d been under the influence of alcohol, Klingon mystery chips, and built-up sexual tension, but also the shame of acknowledging she’d acted on these justifications while still harboring an equal desire for Drauc. And she’d startle again when a figure approached the lecherous pair on the couch and landed a firm smack against Enyd’s bum.

Enyd yelped and pulled away from the world-shattering kisses Alistair was sharing with her. Her bum hurt. It took a moment to put it together, but once she realized someone had smacked her while she’d been tongue fucking Alistair, Enyd glared over her shoulder at the offender. It was Klar, grinning like a madman, with Yuvvor leaning against his side, a more subdued look of amusement touching her beautiful features. Only in seeing their blatant amusement, and feeling the warm sting from Klar’s smack, did Enyd’s consciousness break through the haze of arousal to note:
1.   She was once more in Alistair’s lap, straddling his hips, skirts rucked up around her waist, one hand dangerously high on his bare thigh, with an obvious trajectory toward his hips.
2.   Her breasts were pressed tightly against his body, and she could feel the rattling of his erratic heartbeat as her other hand was still clinging with desperation to the back of his neck.
3.   Her lips felt heavy and swollen from how aggressively she’d twisted his initial gentle touch into something desperate.
4.      Her skin on her face and neck felt a familiar chaffed burn from where the first growth of hair was already returning on his cheeks.
5.   Alistair was just as aroused as she was, based on the bulge she felt pressing intimately against her.
6.   The group that had come in earlier was already filing out the door, their voices carrying together on a raucous tune.

“Sorry to interrupt your mating ritual, but since you were a key feature in our program this evening, we thought it right to have you join us for the parade.” Ever the marginally more diplomatic between the two, Yuvvor gestured toward the last of the crew disappearing through the door. “It is our custom to promenade through the theater and out into the streets, our songs and acrobatics carrying the patrons from the theater to the pubs or their nearby homes and attracting more patrons to join us at the pub. It is both a traditional way of ending these types of festivities, and it is a great marketing scheme for advertising.”

Klar’s eyes moved over Enyd’s face, his grin growing feral. “Is it customary to bite in your culture as well?” He pointed to his own nose, then to Enyd.

Though reluctant to pull away from the warmth of Alistair’s body, Enyd did tip back enough to reach up and touch her nose, where she’d felt a strange tickle on her skin above her lips. Sure enough, Enyd couldn’t help but snort with amusement when she realized her nose was bleeding. This was bloody proof she’d been just as overwhelmed this time in Alistair’s embrace as she had been in Drauc’s, only with a slightly different response. Movement in the peripheral had Enyd looking up in time to accept the handkerchief from Yuvvor.

For herself, Enyd loved the idea. Fresh air would do wonders for fighting against these chips' influence and sweep away the lingering embers of the arduous fire that had temporarily burned away all sense from her mind. But she couldn’t answer for Alistair. Instead, after stealing a glance at him while she positioned the cloth against her nose, Enyd turned her gaze back to the pair standing at their side. Enyd spoke to their Klingon friends with the cartoonish style voice induced by nasal pressure, “Do we have to be nude, or could we go as we are? Will any more actions be taken against us for entertainment’s sake, or will we be free to walk, dance, sing, and then leave at our own pace?”

“By my honor,” it seemed as if, for the first time this evening, Klar was speaking with a genuine tone of voice; even his facial expression and mannerisms had grown serious as he continued, “no harm will come to you, and no one will touch you. Unless you initiate or want to be touched.”

Yuvvor nodded. “The promenade has already started and will by now be halfway through the theater. While normally we would lead it, we wanted to invite you to join us, considering this evening’s turn of events.” She must’ve taken a page from Klar’s book with her winking smile that she shot them.

In all this time, Enyd had been damned careful not to move her hips, knowing that if she did, she’d likely fall back against Alistair and ravish him to bits. Lowering the cloth and checking to ensure that the nosebleed had stopped—it had—Enyd dipped her head down and to the side, looking up at Alistair with her most hopeful expression possible. It certainly wasn’t an innocent look, not when she still imagined ripping off the corset and shoving his face between her breasts the minute they were alone again. Which, in the rational side of her mind, Enyd knew was all the more reason for them to get some fresh air and exercise before beaming back to the ship as he’d earlier suggested.

“Well, what do you think?” She did not attempt to keep the begging note from her voice.

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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One moment, the kiss was easy, romantic, sensual. Enyd's lips tasted sharp and flavourful, a mix of firewine, ale and the chips that she'd eaten, drawing Alistair in to taste more, fall deeper into the kiss. A distant part of his mind wondered why he'd taken so long to do this when kissing Enyd felt so good.

The next moment, a switch flipped for both of them, and the long-restrained lust was finally unleashed. Alistair answered Enyd's needy moan within their locked lips wIth his own, craving her, more, all of her. As she pushed him back and climbed onto his waist, his hands moved to her back, holding her against him. Again, a small voice in his mind suggested that he slow down, breathe, but Enyd was all over him, drowning the voice in the press of her body against his.

Succumbing to the inevitable as he felt Enyd's hand sliding up his exposed thigh, Alistair's own hands slipped under Enyd's skirt and explored her buttocks, fondling and squeezing without a whit of shame. In a rush to feel more of Enyd, to toss her down onto the couch, tear off her skirt and underwear and feast until she cried for mercy, Alistair pulled his hands back out of her skirt and to the hips, their kiss somehow becoming even more heated, even more ravenous.

He was baffled when Enyd abruptly pulled back, but it quickly became obvious why when he saw blood oozing from Enyd's nostril. Klar's amused question drew an abashed grin from Alistair, even as he pondered.

Did I really just do that just by kissing her? And almost...do...that?

Yuvvor's offer and Enyd's well-founded concern helped awaken Alistair's punch-drunk brain. It admittedly also helped that Enyd was no longer pressing against his groin, although his hands remained on her hips. Recognising the unspoken message in her tone and plaintive look, he hesitated, smiling nervously back at her.

"I think that's a great idea," he said, grateful for the out, despite his body's strenuous objection. The speed with which he'd shifted from "romantic kiss" to "devour Enyd's sex in front of everyone" was more than a little unsettling, especially after recent events. Or future events, technically. Alternate future events? Abortive post-temporal deviative events? Something like that. Rushing into this with Enyd was a bad idea. Probably. Maybe. Conceivably. Hypothetically.

All hypotheses require verification through experimentation, right?

With considerable reluctance (and hoping fervently that the tunic's flaps provided adequate concealment), Alistair waited for Enyd to stand before joining her. Taking her hand in his, he led her in the performers' wake out of the lounge and to backstage. The place sounded different than before (mercifully). Rather than the sound of music, moaning and taunting, the air was thick with excited chatter as everyone prepared for the march. Yuvvor and Klar had vanished into the throng that passed onwards into the theater proper, giving the humans a modicum of privacy.

"Hey," Alistair said quietly, pulling Enyd aside. On reflex he kissed her hand, smiling as he considered her amidst the background noise of a thousand-odd people chatting. "I'm with you. I don't know what's happening, and this is the craziest night of my life...uh, no. Second craziest. Well...third. Fourth if you count alternate timelines." He chuckled, shaking his head in embarrassment. "Sorry. My point is, if you ever don't feel comfortable, I'm with you, and we can beam back to the ship at any time."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd landed a quick kiss in the middle of Alistair’s forehead after he agreed to the invitation. They were mercifully spared an audience for disentangling themselves from each other and standing up when Klar and Yuvvor moved to the table to grab a few more handfuls of food. It took Enyd a moment to straighten her skirts and find the metallic layer to put back into place over the sheer material of the corset. Alistair had to help her get it reattached, which proved a feat in and of itself, as every time the man touched her, it tempted her to toss him back on the couch and resume their earlier randy goings on. Enyd knew no one in the parade would care about seeing the dark of her nipples through the lace, but Enyd also knew they would eventually beam back to the ship and though right now she wanted nothing more than to rip her clothes off and invite Alistair to finish his ravishing of her body, that rational part of her brain was speaking louder than before, fueling her efforts to get relatively decent for the parade walk.

Enyd raised a hand to her mouth to hold in a giggle—failing miserably when it came out as a juicy snort—at the sight of Alistair’s obvious erection tenting under his tunic. It made the tunic considerably shorter. Enyd playfully tugged at the hem of his tunic in a feigned attempt to make him more decent, nearly falling over with laughter in the process. She was still giggling as he took her hand and led her from the room. Hopefully, the distraction of the parade would help him as much as she hoped it would help her. He was not under the chip-fluence like she was and so would remember far more vividly the details of beaming back to the ship with a tented tunic and the reactions this brought from his crewmates.

They were almost to the main theater when a tug from Alistair’s grip on her hand had Enyd pausing. The quick kiss he pressed to her skin had Enyd’s stomach fluttering, and she knew her smile was goofy beyond reason when she flashed it at him. When it turned out that this wasn’t THE craziest night of his life, Enyd pouted in disappointment. Granted, crazy didn’t always mean good, and once she was sober, Enyd would realize this, but for this moment, she couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of jealousy over whomever it was who’d shared the craziest night of his life with Alistair.

Tipping up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, Enyd pressed sloppy kisses to both of Alistair’s cheeks. “Don't worry handsome, those chips are so delightful that you couldn’t probably step on my toes right now, and I wouldn’t feel it.”

A shout from the crowd drew Enyd’s gaze long enough to see Klar holding aloft what looked to be two instruments, with Yuvvor at his side gesturing for them to join them. It looked as if the parade goers had chosen between masks or instruments to aid them in the festivities of the promenade, and all that was left for them to choose from were the instruments.

“But I know you meant emotionally and not just physically.” Enyd lowered herself back to her feet as she unwrapped her arms from around his neck and took hold of his hand again. “I won’t pretend to know what’s going on here, either and, in fact,” that rational side of her mind surged forward, recognizing the reality of Drauc’s recovery and the needed conversation with the Romulan. Enyd shook her head. She couldn’t verbalize those concepts right now. She’d only make things worse with any attempt. Taking a steadying breath, Enyd smiled as she continued, “Well, no matter what happens, we need to have a post-op meeting to work through this night, anyway. So let’s see this through. Safeword is…” Enyd tapped her lips for a moment, then grinned as she dropped her hand to Alistair’s chest and shifted back into his personal space to whisper, “Hot lips.”

Enyd quickly let go of his hand and danced her way off the stage, giggling when she nearly face-planted in the process. She was the first to reach Klar and accepted a pair of what appeared to be the Klingon equivalent of zills. The Klingon sex god then offered Alistair a tambourine while keeping a hand drum for himself, while Yuvvor had a clarinet-looking instrument already pressed between her lips. Their small group was a pace or two behind the last of the larger group, but considering the speed of the promenade itself, with the singing and revelry taking place throughout the crowd, they caught up to the end soon enough. It seemed this tradition was so ingrained in the city dwellers that, when the theater patrons finally burst out into the city square, they were met with a host of outrageously dressed individuals alongside singers and dancers, all competing for attention and yet strangely working in unison as they melted into the parade flowing out from the theater.

“The other performers,” Yuvvor stopped her music to point to a pair of acrobats, who somehow did a quick acrobatic routine while keeping up the group, and all without harming themselves or others, “are all shopkeepers in this district. Many years ago, they first started joining in the festivities as a way of hawking their wares, but then they found they gathered more attention for their shops the more ostentatious they dressed or acted during the parade. The shock of the moment leaving a lasting memory.” Yuvvor steadied a wink at Enyd and Alistair before pulling the instrument back to her lips and resuming her playing.

The front of the growing length of people turned down a narrow street, and slowly they meandered their way into the tighter quarters. The music bounced off the walls of the homes lining their path, with the echoes of laughter and song creating a rowdy ruckus that could chase away any sort of gloom from even the most morose character. Enyd laughed as she clinged and clanged the hand cymbals together, her smile growing as she watched Alistair play the tambourine. It was strange how at different portions of the parade, the tempo and melody of the song varied, drifting in and out of unison, capitalizing on the dissonance as its way of staying together.

In the ending portion of the parade, where Alistair and Enyd marched alongside Yuvvor, Klar, and a host of shopkeepers, the music sounded akin to the songs she would belly dance to. Enyd’s smile grew bigger as she remembered dancing for Zark some days earlier. Quite by instinct, her body acted on the memory, with Enyd moving slightly ahead of the others into a semi-open area of the parade, where she danced more intricately to the music. It was a challenge to move forward along with the parade while also conducting the memorized moves of the dance, but Enyd delighted in being able to share this dance and this moment with everyone around her. Enyd kept looking back to Alistair as she danced, catching his eyes to share a warm smile and the occasional wink. He hadn’t said the safe word yet, and that was wonderful!

Even in her partially inebriated state, with the chips still an influencing factor but lesser the more she exerted herself and breathed in the fresh air, Enyd recognized the beauty of this moment. To be invited into such a unique cultural aspect of the region was something to treasure. This was why she’d joined Starfleet. This was part of what she loved about being a diplomat. The experiences of culture shared, stories heard, lives lived. Enyd laughed as she ducked under one acrobat's legs and danced between his partners. That she could share this with Alistair, a man who was quickly growing to be like a habit of thought with every passing minute, only made the circumstances sweeter.

The parade began to slow, and it took a moment before Enyd realized why. Certain houses had opened their doors, and the residents were sharing food and drink with the passing group, some even opening the windows on the second floor and tossing out flowers or herbs that rained onto their heads, bringing a vibrant fragrance to the street as the oils of the petals were released under their dancing feet. As their section of the parade continued to wait their turn for a taste of some pastries the house up ahead was sharing, Enyd twisted and twirled her way back to Alistair’s side. She shamelessly fell against him and clung to his shoulders, eyes bright with joy. She had flower petals falling from her hair, and as they stood there together, lamp light the only thing allowing them to see, a large herb leaf nestled itself in the center at the top of her corseted bosom.

Enyd giggled, pressing her body closer to his, curling against him like a happy cat. “Do you need to say the safe word yet, Alistair?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Cashmar Auditorium | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Content that Enyd was comfortable, Alistair allowed himself to be absorbed into the experience, as if Enyd's chip-induced glee had infected him too. In fairness, he argued to himself (hoping to divest himself of responsibility for whatever happened next), the combination of wine, ale, rampant arousal and Enyd's smile was leaving him pleasantly light-headed. Thus Alistair cheerfully took the tamborine from Klar and, along with Enyd joined the promenade as the crowd headed outside.

Fortunately by then, the uncomfortable erection had subsided, allowing Alistair to enjoy the moment. without distraction. The evening was pleasantly warm even with his legs bared, the summer heat seemingly contributing the wild communal feeling of it all, as if everyone had the same madness. The spectacular night sky, dominated by the immense shattered orb of Praxis, only added to the magic of it all. All the horror and pain that Alistair had experienced on that moon seemed very long ago as he merrily played his tambourine, making up for ineptitude with enthusiasm.

Who needed a safe word amidst this much fun? All thought of the concealed combadge was long forgotten as humans and Klingons alike merrily danced the night away. As Enyd was briefly separated from him, Alistair found himself joined by a pair of bare-chested masked Klingons, a man and woman who were juggling knives with frightening skill, and he found himself dancing right along with them. Soon enough, knives were flying back and forth over and around Alistair, who (despite being extremely aware of the danger) simply had no choice but to either trust in their skill or shrink from the danger. The former seemed the safer choice on Qo'nos, after all.

Eventually realising that the two knife-experts were wearing animal masks, which Alistair supposed meant that they were local butchers, he exchanged yet another look of shared joy with Enyd up ahead. The parade continued with the same communal chaotic energy, music filling the air, soon followed up by more things: flower petals, herbs, incense and so much more, adding an aromatic quality to everything. A close encounter with an enthusiastic Klingon woman resulted in Alistair's bared muscular arms being slathered with scented oils, but he managed to escape before she could do the same to his legs or head.

When Enyd fell into his arms, Alistair laughed gaily as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Not even close!" he said with a grin, barely noticing as a passerby, noticing the tambourine was no longer being played, nabbed it from his hand and continued on their merry way.

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd’s eyebrows rose, her nostrils flaring, as she noted first the scent of the oils and then the luster of the lamp light glistening on Alistair’s skin. “And what sort of mischief have you found without me, sir?”

Shifting out of his arms ever so slightly, Enyd reached up and drew a hand down the length of his right arm. She studied her oil-covered hand for a moment, throwing Alistair an inquisitive smile. A hearty laugh bellowing over the din of music from just behind her pulled Enyd’s attention away from her oil-slicked tempter. It was one of the stagehands carrying a large tin of orange-colored paste.

“What is this?” Enyd used her shiny, oil-covered hand to point to the man’s tin.

The man dipped his fingers into the tin and dug out a large dollop, dropping it into Enyd’s palm without asking if she even wanted it. “Jutngev muSHa.” He tipped forward to bellow in her ear, “Or ‘nectar of love' in your tongue.” His warm breath was rich with the scent of bloodwine when he laughed and moved further into the crowd.

Pulling her gaze away from his departing back, Enyd looked at the rapidly melting paste in her hand. She realized the oil on Alistair’s arms had likely started as this paste, but melted on contact with the heat of skin. She turned toward him, a slight frown pulling at her lips. If his arms were already covered with the oil, where should she put this new portion?

As if in answer to her unspoken question, a flare lit up the sky with a bright pink explosion, followed by an emerald green one. The dynamic color change overhead caused Enyd’s eyes to shift down and away from the bright flashes, where her gaze landed on the sliver of skin visible through the flaps of his tunic. Enyd’s cheshire grin was as bright as the continued barrage of flares when she moved back to stand in front of Alistair.

Enyd rubbed her hands together in plain sight, her smile playfully menacing. “I’ve never been a fan of leaving things half done.”

Keeping her gaze locked with his, Enyd crouched until her head was level with his waist, her oil-slicked hands reaching beneath his tunic. She started close to his knee, pressing the heels of her hands against the top of his leg while her fingers massaged the oil into his muscled flesh. She was coy and careful in her upward movement, stopping her inner hand from its upward travels while her outer hand moved on until it massaged almost to his hip. Enyd only broke eye contact with Alistair long enough to glance at her work, curious if the orange oil colored his flesh orange as well. It didn’t. Somehow it just blended into his skin, leaving behind a bright sheen that tempted her to get her own tin and slather the man completely with it, her mind burning with curiosity at what it would feel like to rub against him while they were both equally covered.

She glanced back up at him, a soft smile of impish joy in place, as she pulled her hands away from his left leg and shifted subtly to reach his right. “Do you need the safe word, Alistair?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Streets | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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"Woah Enyd, are you..." Alistair babbled in alarm as Enyd crouched down. "That's not...uh...oh...alright...okay..." Enyd's touch on his bare thigh quite effectively reduced the poor man to an insatiate mess, and he quickly stopped trying to talk. Klingons continued to pass around them in various costumes, apparently unfazed by Enyd crouching down before her date in the middle of the street. Somewhat flummoxed at what to do with himself (and enjoying the sensation of Enyd's fingers and palms on his skin far too much), Alistair was reduced to admiring the fireworks. They were modest compared to firework displays that he'd seen on Earth, but still impressive with great...colour...nope, the distraction wasn't working...

When Enyd asked her question, Alistair laughed nervously. "Uh, no, nope, but, erm, getting close..."

"Humans!" a friendly voice called out amidst the hubbub, and Alistair's mouth dropped as none other than Carvok and Leshvor approached through the crowd, the very same elderly Klingons that he and Enyd had met at the start of the evening. Both looked to be in high spirits, their tailored clothing being very ruffled indeed.

"You were magnificent!" Carvok boomed happily, slapping Alistair's bicep before realising his error. Hastily wiping his hand on his pants, he continued "Both of you, extraordinary, the finest guest performances that I've seen in many years! You claimed such excellent prizes too...the tunic of Bob'naj the Right! And that corset, such a fine piece from the opera! And now, I see that you are...er...enjoying yourselves aplenty!"

Momentarily baffled, Alistair glanced down and realised with renewed alarm that from a certain angle, it did now appear that Enyd's hands were massaging higher than their actual position. "Uh, er, that's-"

"Carvok, you old beast, what of us?" Leshvor interjected, dropping Alistair a wink when Carvok wasn't watching. She draped herseld on her husband's side, a hand running up and down his arm. "Do I see you giving your beloved wife the same treatment?"

Carvok groaned. "Steady on you daft woman, I've already railed you hard three times tonight! I'm a hundred and twenty two years old, you can't expect to just hop on and ride me whenever you choose, I'm not a blasted bike..."

Leshor snorted, batting his chest in remonstration. "Do these humans look like they're riding? I'm talking about you giving for once and not just receiving, like an honourable husband should! Don't you agree, dear?"

Caught offguard by the sudden question, and with his brain neatly frazzled by whatever Enyd was up to, Alistair could only nod noncommitally. "Uh...I mean, on the, uh, face of it..."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

The older Klingon couple, Carvok and Leshvor, careened out of the milling crowd into their proximity, calling an end to her torment of Alistair. Enyd didn’t mind. Where the chips had fueled a desperate need, she now felt sanguine to basically everything. Carvok’s allusion to more intimate activities had Enyd giggling. Their continued verbal sparring, especially between the couple, had her stomach clenching with laughter, a hand coming out to grip Alistair’s arm. Only her hand slipped down the length of it and grasped air. As she twisted in front of him, hands roaming his body, looking for something to steady herself with, Enyd grabbed something hard and firm, sitting hot beneath his tunic. Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open, horrified amusement filling her as she realized she’d steadied herself by grabbing hold of his erection. Catching his gaze, Enyd smirked as she maintained the firm grip while she continued to right her position, this time on Alistair’s other side, only letting go once she was leaning against him and facing the couple.

Inserting herself into the conversation, Enyd nodded toward the backs of passersby. “A reveler gave us some orange paste.” Enyd pointed to the shiny gleam on Alistair’s arms. “Something like the ‘nectar of love.’” She shrugged, turning her gaze first to Leshvor, then to Carvok. She held out her hand where a few last dribbles of paste lay melting. “I have some left if you’d like to please your wife in another fashion, Carvok.” Enyd winked, feeling more than seeing Alistair’s reaction to her words and actions.

Leshvor’s eyes widened a moment before a coughing laugh erupted from her throat. Carvok reached out and used one hand to cup the back of Enyd’s, rubbing the last of the “nectar” onto his hand. He, too, was chuckling, his eyes moving up and down the length of Alistair.

“You were putting this on his legs, no?” Enyd nodded, smile broad. “And he has it on his arms?” Enyd nodded, smile faltering as it seemed this line of questions was leading somewhere. “Good, good.”

Leshvor swatted Carvok’s shoulder, obviously used to her husband being vague. “It is called the nectar of love because we make it from a mixture of herbs with aphrodisiac qualities and a good dose of gha’cher sperm.” Leshvor continued while Enyd reached out to grip Alistair’s hand. “It is a four-legged horned creature known for its sexual prowess, its sperm believed to help increase a male’s virility and woman’s pleasure during lovemaking.” Enyd blinked, eyes darting to each Klingon, then glancing up to Alistair. She'd just smeared what sounded to be goat cum all over his leg.

“Do you feel like a thousand tongues are licking your skin, human?” Carvok wagged his eyebrows as he reached over to his wife and audaciously smeared the last of the paste over what they could see of her chest. “The heat of a lover's breath tickling your senses?” The Klingon man’s eyes moved down to rest on Alistair’s waist, his smile growing. “If you don’t yet, you soon will. It is the most wonderful sensation.” Carvok looked back to Leshvor again as he finished smearing the paste on her skin and reached to clasp her hand in his. “I believe we conceived our third child while covered in it, no?”

Leshvor’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips, “Yes.” She was already tugging her husband back into the crowd. “Enjoy the experience, humans. It is unlike anything you’ve ever imagined.”

Enyd watched their departure in silence, then looked at her hand. It was feeling tingly warm, almost as if something or someone was massaging each nerve ending. She was curious if any of the herbs Leshvor had mentioned could be construed as a drug, something to lower inhibitions like alcohol but without inducing sleepiness or aggression. It could be why she felt more relaxed and open to whatever happened rather than driven by an overwhelming need. But, then again, she only had her hand exposed to the paste and had not had it smeared on her arms and legs.

Tucking a finger under Alistair’s chin, she tugged until she could see his eyes. “How are those thousand tongues feeling?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Streets | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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When Enyd grabbed Alistair's erection, she found it to be a remarkably firm handhold, much to the owner's chagrin. Her subsequent back-and-forth motions on the stiff member as she clambered to her feet drew a distressed whine from Alistair, but he was rather beyond words at that point. A long night of sexual priming had dramatically reduced his tolerance for teasing of any sort, never mind an inadvertent handjob by a beautiful woman. That the throbbing erection was trapped inside painfully tight underwear did not help matters, particularly as the oil left from Enyd's grip seeped through the thin fabric.

Then, quite suddenly, Alistair felt a sudden liberating sensation around his groin. Barely registering that Enyd was at his side, and not registering the conversation at all, he experimentally shifted his hips from side to side, hoping to be inconspicuous. The result was undeniable; the underwear had ripped open at the front and was already slipping. Alistair was busy frantically trying to think of a dignified solution to his predicament when his brain belatedly two critical words.

Aphrodisiac. Sperm.

Completely dumbfounded, Alistair simply smiled like the idiot that he felt like. At Carvok's question and pointed look, Alistair could only chuckle anxiously. Indeed, his arms were beginning to tingle in a delightful manner, as were his thighs, and...

Oh shit.

After the randy old Klingons left to go about their business, Alistair took a deep breath, hoping to compose himself. His (barely) concealed erection was now painfully sensitive, such that Alistair both feared and eagerly anticipated what it might feel like to be touched again. As Enyd gently turned his face to hers and asked her question, he chuckled in bemusement.

"Insistent," he said softly, mindful of his underwear slowly slipping down his thigh. The crowd around them was was still thick with revelry as the promenade had slowed. On impulse, Alistair leaned forward and kissed Enyd, relishing the taste of her, but he forced himself to pull back a few moments later. He held up a finger, smiling self-consciously. "Just, uh, one moment. Hold that thought."

With that he stepped back, glanced around them at the still lively street, then quite sheepishly slipped his hands under the tunic flaps (conveniently propped open) and removed the ruined underwear, pulling it over his boots. Completely bare now, his precarious modesty preserved only by the tunic, Alistair hurriedly found a nearby bin and disposed of the clothing. He returned to Enyd, grinning bashfully, as if he couldn't believe what was happening.

"So, uh," he said quietly now that they were closer, the music of the parade still merry all around them. Alistair took one of Enyd's hands in his own, rubbing her knuckles with her thumb as he looked into her eyes. "Right. Well...uh...I have to be honest, Enyd, I'm about five minutes from ripping your clothes off and just giving you everything I've got until neither of us can see straight, no matter where we are." Alistair's eyes widened in shock at his own words, but he ploughed on. "What about you? Or will you be needing that safe word?"

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Cashmar Auditorium  | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Enyd gave an unladylike snort at Alistair’s blunt response of “insistent.” Then, one moment she watched him with amusement, and the next, Alistair kissed her again. His name whispered out of her throat like a needy moan when he pulled away, mouth agape and sucking at air. Her mouth stayed open, one hand coming up to clamp over it to stifle the giggles, as she watched Alistair unceremoniously shirk off his underwear and then walk over to a rubbish bin. Watching his almost nonchalant movements reminded Enyd of her present need, her earlier wants, and the curiosity and confusion that had existed like a permanent subtext to their entire evening.

The grin he bestowed as he returned to her side had Enyd giggling. She wasn’t certain if the crimson tint to his cheeks was from arousal, embarrassment, or both. Either way, he looked well-ravished and knowing she’d been the one ravishing him only lent further pleasure to her senses. His hand was warm, grip gentle as he took her hand. Where his thumb stroked back and forth, Enyd felt delicious tendrils of vibrating heat feather out. It took half a second for her to realize that was the hand she’d used to rub the paste on his body. If her barely exposed skin was reacting like that to his touch, what would his skin feel like if she touched the thinner flesh of his inner arm? Or trace her fingers along the edge of his knee?

Hearing his voice, Enyd gave her head a quick shake, taking her gaze from where he gripped her hand and bringing it slowly up to his face, very much aware of his erection as it tented under his tunic. While surprisingly honest and offering a sort of temptation with that honesty, his words worked magic on her, soothing her nerves. She used her free hand, raising it up as if they were back in school.

“Hot lips.” She murmured the safe word through a laughing smile. “Now, don’t take that as a lack of desire for the well-oiled flesh that you present before me,” to emphasize her point, Enyd reached out and drew a deliberate finger down Alistair’s arm, playful gaze observing his reaction, “but just as you’re about five minutes from having your wicked way with me, I feel like I’m about five minutes away from being a giggling mass of silliness.” She blinked and shook her head. “I’m starting to see fireworks over your shoulders.”

Though he’d warned her about being close to the edge, Enyd wasn’t with it so much that she could abide by the space that confession would necessitate. She used the grip of their hands to tug him closer, molding her body against his in an intimate embrace.

Tipping her head back, Enyd smiled softly as she whispered, “Take me home, Alistair.”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Streets | Saqwa’ City | Qo'nos ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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Try as he might, Alistair couldn't keep his surprise from showing. His mind felt like hot mush, albeit hot mush that had been turbocharged by arousal and powerful desire, but nevertheless, sense won through. Enyd didn't "owe" him anything, and she had every right to end the night whenever she chose. Anyway (and a cold wave of guilt passed through Alistair as he remembered), she was the under the influence of the chips and a reasonable bit of alcohol. Enyd was right; this was certainly the time to beam back to the ship, if she was really starting to feel off-kilter.

None of that made Alistair any less sexually ravenous, of course, but such was life. All fantasies of hoisting Enyd up against a wall and driving hard into her, or finding a dimly lit park and laying her down in the grass, faded into nothing. In a traitorous moment as she snuggled into him, he idly wondered if Enyd could beam back and he could remain, perhaps to find an enthusiastic Klingon woman...or even Klar and Yuvvor, who might be open to some team sports...

Fortunately, in the next moment, hot shame flooded through Alistair. He wasn't that sort of man, and he'd surely regret such an adventure after he cooled off. That wasn't the sort of man whom Enyd had just spent the night with, nor with whom she'd care to spend more nights with. No quantity of aphrodisiac semen oil and alcohol could entice him to betray himself like that. Thus, with some reluctance, Alistair reached inside his tunic and pulled out the combadge that he'd pinned there.

"Take a moment to soak it all in," he murmured into Enyd's ear as he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her securely against him. The music enveloped them, as did the raucous revelers, with fireworks lighting the night sky in a dazzling variety of colours. Even scents were rich, a mix of countless odours that presented a spectacular olfactory experience.

Finally, Alistair pressed the combadge with his thumb. "Leavitt to Theurgy, two to beam up."

A moment later, both Alistair and Enyd vanished in a whirl of blue sparks.

---

Chief Kowalski was having a quiet evening in the transporter room. There were two transporter rooms active to provide redundancy and it was Kowalski's turn to be the backup, thus he had little to do that night save for beaming down Leavitt and Madsen several hours prior. Far from anything else, his most significant achievement of the night was to finish reading one novel and start another. The chief was thus quite content to be standing at his station (transporter operators quickly learned how to survive without chairs), PADD in hand, when the call came in.

He worked his controls as usual, ran the beam-up sequence as usual, watched the two figures fizzle into existence as usual...and then the chief's mouth dropped.

"Hey, weren't you two wearing different clothes when you left?" he asked, baffled. When Alistair turned away from Enyd, revealing his prominent tunic tent, the chief's eyes widened. "Well, hello there sailor!"

Blushing fiercely, Alistair took Enyd's hand in his own. "It's...a, uh, long story," he mumbled, clearing his throat before leading Enyd out of the transporter room. Only at the last moment did Alistair stop at the door and look back. "I'll see you at 1100, Chief. I'll need the report on the ODN problem by then in case I need to check the bioneurals afterwards."

"Yes sir!" Chief Kowalski said cheerfully, plainly on the verge of laughter as the doors closed.

Alistair groaned, glancing at Enyd. "The weird thing is that I'm actually his boss," he said with a wince. The sudden shock of transition from the bustling street to the stark starship corridor (which was mercifully empty) had sobered him up some, even if the erection remained, thanks to the accursed oil. Considering Enyd for a moment, Alistair said quietly, "Enyd, it might be a good idea to go to Sickbay. Believe me, the hangover from those chips is...uh...you really don't want to know."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Saqwa’ City | Qo’Nos ] Attn. @Griff

Laying her head against Alistair’s shoulder, Enyd quietly nodded. She memorized the sights and sounds, and especially the feel of Alistair holding her and how firm his muscles were as she wrapped a mirrored arm around his back and anchored herself to his side. She hadn’t wanted to return to the ship—if ever. But something in the wildness of Alistair’s gaze had worked to break through the liquor, the chips, and the paste to remind Enyd that things were left unclear with another man on the ship who’d had an even greater wildness in his eyes. Already things had gotten far more complicated with Alistair than she’d expected, and once she was fully sober, the house of cards of idiocy she’d built would crush her. But for now, she was willing herself to be calm and content. Blatantly ignoring the flashes of lights that were indeed starting to creep in from the edges of her vision.

They shimmered off the planet at Alistair's order just as Enyd placed a soft kiss against his oiled skin. Probably not the best idea, all things considered, but she’d wanted to share one last moment of affection in the atmosphere of the revelry before they were transported back to the sterile environment of the ship. Transport was always abrupt, and Enyd really much preferred shuttles. The temperature change caused a rash of goosebumps to appear on her bare skin and she rubbed at it while Alistair’s addressed the transport officer. Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment for both Alistair and herself when the officer teased Alistair, and was grateful when he took her hand and led her to the door.

When he paused and popped his head back in, listing off more techno-babble, Enyd’s smile returned in full force. There was something sexy about how confident and assertive he became when speaking about his work. She squeezed his hand reassuringly when the reality of rank came back to bite them both. Enyd tugged him in the direction of sickbay, already thinking the same thing. Her lips were humming with awareness thanks to her kissing his arm earlier, and her hand was still aflame with all sorts of pleasurable sensations. It was likely torturous to Alistair at this point.

“I think we need to get you inoculated to the thousand love-tongues.” Chuckling, she weaved to bounce against his side as they moved toward what she hoped would be medical relief of some kind. “I’m really sorry about that, Alistair.” Though she was sincere in her apology, the smirk was likely not helping her appear so. “I think we’ve learned a few valuable lessons tonight; we should write in an anonymous report for future visits.”

Thankfully they met few crewmates and no close acquaintances on their travels to sickbay, though it’d be another matter getting from sickbay to their respective quarters. The staff on duty were professional enough to not bat an eye at their state of dress or medical needs. A hypospray and some vitamins later, and Enyd’s chemical imbalance—thanks to everything she’d ingested or been exposed to—was back to normal. Earlier in the evening, she’d mentally berated herself for not speaking more plainly about Drauc, and that beratement returned in full force. The nurses finished with Enyd faster than Alistair, and Enyd took advantage of the moment alone to check on Drauc's progress. He'd been released, as planned, and the nurses indicated nothing had been of threat upon his release. Enyd sighed and thanked them for sharing before moving back to wait in the common area for Alistair.

There had to be something wrong with her. Something that had never fully developed or that had been broken after Javec, but it seemed she was incapable of being simple and straightforward with attraction or interest. Enyd kicked at the floor with her shoe while she waited for Alistair to rejoin her. Once she saw him, this time with sober eyes, Enyd felt a mixture of pleasure and regret. She’d not entered this evening intending to get seduced by him through haphazard circumstances and certainly hadn’t intended on doing the same to him. She had no concept of where he stood with other crewmembers, and although she'd alluded to prior physical engagements, she'd been vague. The devil was in the details, or the complete lack in this case.

Enyd kept her smile warm as Alistair approached. He did not deserve to have the evening ruined by her full-force confession of relational idiocy. They were both tired, and such a conversation, or confession, was best left for later. Let them process things in their respective corners first. And tomorrow, maybe, she would find Drauc. He needed to know everything. It was the only respectful thing to do. And then, regardless of how Drauc responded to her confession, Enyd needed to come clean with Alistair as well. Do unto others, was something her grandmother had drilled into her over the years, and if the tables were reversed, Enyd would want to know these details.

“How are you doing?” Enyd wanted to take his hand again, having gotten so used to holding it on the planet, but no longer having the excuse of drugs coursing through her system and now having Federation eyes on them, Enyd instead clasped them together in front of her body. “Turns out that paste, when mixed with the chips, was causing my dopamine levels to go out of whack. The nurse said I’d likely have seen pink fairies carrying elephants if I'd had much more exposure.” Enyd subtly shifted her hips back and forth in a nervous dance, not quite knowing what to do or say without doing too much or saying too much. “Um, well, I meant it when I said we’d need to have a post-op meeting. I think a lot happened tonight. That took us both by surprise.” She licked her lips, fighting the urge to ogle him. “Unless it was always in your plans to steal that outfit as a souvenir. You did say you enjoyed the play it was featured in.” Enyd winked, this time reaching out and playfully punching his arm. “Tonight has actually been wonderful, Alistair, all things considered. And I mean that. I-“

A passing nurse had Enyd shifting closer before she continued in a softer voice, “Remember the guy I told you about, the one who was in sickbay after kissing me? Well, I really need to talk to him, too.” She didn’t know what else to say because she honestly didn’t know how Drauc would feel or how she felt right with the new developments throwing her so off-kilter. Her smile was lopsided, an apologetic blush on her cheeks. “If it’s okay by you, I’ll come by your quarters or a neutral area if I scare you,” she offered a playful wink, trying to downplay the serious subtext of the moment, “to do the post-op discussion in a day or two?”

[Lieutenant Alistair Leavitt (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Alistair_Leavitt) | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn. @EllenFitz
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It was a credit to their training that the medical staff were completely professional as they dealt with Alistair. There was no teasing, no meaningful glances, no innuendoes of any sort. It was just as well. After being given an injection to clear his head, Alistair's embarrassment was so titanic that he half wondered if he was at risk of a stroke. Finally, finally his body returned to normal, although certain annoying body parts ached from overstimulation. Memories of the past few hours flashed through his mind as the doctor and nurse continued treating him, each memory accompanied by a wince.

It was just as well that Sarah wasn't on duty. If she'd been assigned to treat him, Alistair would've quite happily leapt out an airlock.

When he returned to Enyd, it was apparent that she too was now clear-headed and feeling the consequences of their date. Standing by her, Alistaor listened patiently, offering a small smile at times. At times he would have to stop himself reaching for her hand, putting an arm around her shoulders or, when Enyd shuffled closer, kissing her brow. It was hard to ignore the learned habits of the past few hours. Finally, at the last, he nodded.

"I'll be waiting, whenever and wherever you decide to find me," Alistair said quietly, making a point to meet Enyd's eyes with his own. "You're right, we do have a lot to talk about and think over, on top of that report that we'll have to file. Tonight was...uh, surprising, in many ways." He hesitated, glancing aside with unease as he recalled Emyd's cryptic references to another paramour, but he dismissed those thoughts for the moment. "Regardless of anything else, Enyd, you're right. It has been a amazing evening, and unforgettable evening, and...uh, I'm glad that you decided to end it when you did. That was the right decision."

Now it was Alistair's turn to blush, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Anyway...erm...well, right. I'll just be...going...then." He turned away, hesitating, before looking back at Enyd. With a nervous smile and a great deal of hesitancy, Alistair leaned in and softly kissed Enyd's cheek, a very chaste peck after all the other kisses that they'd shared recently, but somehow even more intense and nerve-wracking than any of them.

"I'll be waiting," he reminded Enyd with that same gentle smile. "Good night, Enyd Madsen."

[Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy ] Attn. @Griff

Her hand raised of its own volition when Alistair turned to depart. She fought disappointment at the abrupt ending to their evening and looked to the floor. She shouldn’t be surprised really; after all-

Enyd’s mouth dropped open in surprise when suddenly Alistair pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. Her hand raised again, this time as if to press the memory of his skin deeper into her skin as he stood up and gave her a soft smile. She had no pithy remarks to toss at him and so nodded, her cheeks flushed from the intimacy of the kiss. This was extremely ridiculous, of course, considering he’d seen her breasts, been given a personal lap dance, and had thoroughly kissed her near sense more than once through the evening. But sometimes, innocent and pure left more of a mark on the soul than blatant and demanding.

Enyd kept her hand against her cheek for a few paces as she wandered down the corridor toward the turbolift. She was glad her quarters were one deck away. After the ups and downs of this date…Enyd was curious if Starfleet should send cadets to a Klingon comedy show just to test their mettle, for she certainly felt as if she’d been put through some sort of test. She was still chuckling at the mental image of the likes of L’Nari or Victor having to make it through what they’d just lived through by the time she made it back to her quarters and began to strip the moment the door latched behind her. She was careful with the corset. No matter the coming days, Enyd would treasure this keepsake.

A cup of peppermint tea nursed before and after a shower, and within forty-five minutes of saying goodnight to Alistair, Enyd was in bed, smiling as she burrowed against her pillows for a well-deserved rest from chaos.