4731J-3 Ch. 07

"I must return to the settlement," T'vor announced.

"Why?" Troi asked, fearful it was because of her penis.

"I must feed. Councillor, you must accompany me."

"Yes, Warrioress," she replied, this getting an odd look from Ogawa.

"What about us?" Crusher testily asked. "Why are you only taking Troi?"

"Because we must use her... deification in order to gain access to their semen."

Crusher's fading mind went back to her job, taking readings of the ejaculate from Wesley's mouth while ruminating on T'vor's intentions. With the knowledge that Glarda'Qua and her 'sisters' were not indigenous of this world and, therefore, neither their 'sons', the Mongo's, it turned out the Prime Directive really didn't apply on 4731J-3. Yet, what T'vor proposed still seemed somehow wrong. The question of the Mongo's origin was of no consequence beside the Highland tribe slaughter and a part of her mind railed against them being further interfered with, but wasn't the damage already done anyway? In addition, they still had to feed themselves on this warped merry-go-round of degradation and survival of the fittest.

A tone from her tricorder brought her depressing thoughts around to her work. It seemed the cellular analysis had found something anomalous and, after a quick sample comparison, Crusher came to an incredible and somewhat disturbing conclusion.

"I... I've found something..." she toned, rechecking the data as T'vor and Troi continued to discuss their theological strategy.

"What's that, Doctor?" Alyssa asked, the previously sharp witted officer already half bimbified in the absence of immediate threat.

"Wesley, honey... can you hear me?"

" ... B-bla-aa-arrtt!" Wesley spewed.

"Ewww!" Ogawa laughed.

"M-mom?" he weakly managed.

"Yes, it's your mother," Crusher quickly replied, relieved that he seemed to be regaining his senses, but very concerned about what her tricorder had found. "How do you feel?"

" ... Full..."

By this time, T'vor and Troi were watching, having been distracted from their plans by Wesley's messy expulsion. They both looked at Crusher with questioning expressions.

"According to my readings, Wesley has... mutated."

"This much is obvious, Doctor," T'vor replied.

"No, it's beyond his genetalia," Crusher clarified. "The very cells of his body have mutated. They now share the unique characteristics of Mongo cellular mechanics."

"What are you saying?" asked Troi as she eyed Wesley with a smirking sneer of disgust.

"I'm saying that, for all intents and purposes... Wesley is no longer Human."

There was silence for long moments as this news settled in, broken finally by a mindless giggle from Ogawa.

"Sooo," Troi carefully inquired, "how does this affect us?"

Crusher could understand the group's lack of empathy for Wesley, but she had to set her teeth against it anyway. She was a mother and they didn't understand, but couldn't they try to support her a little?

"Do you remember," Crusher asked with forced patience, "when Glarda'Qua said... something about how the plasmic energy evolves life forms specifically for survival?"

"Yes," Troi replied.

"She included us in that. She said the mist has evolved, or is evolving us as well. I'm having trouble remembering exactly... what she..."

"I believe," T'vor said, "her words were, "Your own beautiful species was not engineered here, and therefore can not survive until the mist does with you what it does for all life forms on this world."

"Adaptation," Crusher recalled.

"Correct," T'vor verified.

"Well," Crusher Summed up, "with the help of whatever happened to him while he was inside Glarda'Qua, Wesley's body has adapted to create the nutritional substance it requires."

"You mean..." Deanna tried.

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "Wesley is now... self-sustaining."

Interested now, T'vor asked, "Can he also feed the rest of the team?"

"No," Crusher informed, unsure of whether or not she should be disappointed by her answer. "Wesley is no longer completely Human, but he isn't completely Mongo, either. He's a hybrid and this makes him, by definition, as inmongo as he is inhuman. In effect, he is now his own species and his ejaculate couldn't sustain us any more than the mongo's ejaculate could now sustain him. He can only sustain himself, and only he can sustain himself."

With his back against the fallen trunk, Wesley stared at his mother in shock, hearing and understanding her words, but somehow unable to truly accept their meaning. His cockhead rested against his lips, the now ever seeping thing dribbling a little of his delicious precum over them. He'd been trying to resist the tasty elixir, knowing how it would look if he were to just start sucking and stroking himself to messy, orgasmic oblivion while he swallowed as much of his delicious load as he could.

But as it turned out, this fountain of his own cum would be his only sustenance. He resignedly allowed his tongue to lick at his secretions, trying to emotionally grasp his inhumanity while his mother's medical efforts found a new subject.

For the first time since her own evolution, Troi's body was being scanned by a medical tricorder. Her feelings on this were mixed, especially since the news of Wesley's cellular transformation. On the other hand, as a mixed Betazoid/Human, she was already a hybrid, but neither of those gene pools involved the spontaneous transformation of sexual organs. She knew she should be ready for anything.

Another aspect of her apprehension was her penis itself. She'd been rather enjoying the feel of it, the look of it on her body with its heavy, swollen ball sack, and the extensive scans of Crusher's tricorder seemed like a threat to this new pleasure.

Finally ceasing her scans, Crusher's frown deepened as she squinted at the tricorder's readouts. She knew she was rapidly losing cognitive ability, having to closely concentrate on each procedure until the surprising results were clear.

"Deanna..." Crusher began, "Your cells have also mutated. Your body evolved a penis in order to deliver..."

" ... Doctor?" T'vor prodded.

Crusher knelt with her knees spread on the pink moss, eyes squinted shut in concentration, struggling to organize her thoughts into words that could convey her findings.

" ... Are you alright, Doc-?"

"Wesley's body," Crusher interrupted, "produces food that only he can eat because his body has been fundamentally changed to those nutritional requirements. His Mongo influenced enzymatic process can break down and use the fuel his body is producing because it's been evolved for his body. Deanna's cells have also been extensively mutated, enough to switch genetalia in order to deliver what her body now produces," Crusher managed.

"And what is that?" T'vor asked.

"The chemical enzymes in Wesley's body that allow him to break down his semen for consumption."

"I'm not following," Ogawa giggled as she stared at the beautiful, uncircumcised cock in question.

"We no longer require the Mongos," T'vor simplified.

As though to demonstrate, T'vor dropped to her knees, taking a gasping Troi's erect cock in the careful fingers of one hand while the other gently peeled back it's foreskin.

Gasping again, Councillor Troi's hips bucked slightly to the sensations, watching wide eyed over the swell of her tits as T'vor slowly went down on her.

"Oooohh, yes!"

Ogawa, Dr. Crusher and even Wesley watched as the councillor helplessly groaned to the well-shaped Ensign's efforts. In just under a minute, Troi's heavy breathing and louder groaning turned to repeated squeals as her pelvis bucked hard to each shot of her cum as it proudly filled the mouth of her Warrioress. Her body still jerking from after intensity, Deanna watched as T'vor let her cock out of her mouth, then lewdly swallowed her mouthful of enzyme enhanced cum.

This done, T'vor approached Wesley, taking a moment to look down at the hapless teen as she considered a logical positioning for what came next. She decided on kneeling in front of him, straddling his hips while stroking his ridiculous phallus with both hands. He soon began whining, a thick string of his own precum connecting his parted lips as his organ began to thrum.

It had been much longer since T'vor's last feeding, and she'd been expending more energy than the others. The meager rations she'd saved were barely enough to keep her going and hunger had been a wolf at her door for long hours. As the huge shaft erupted, she held it tight to her body, pressed between her spread breasts as she moved up and down, eyes closed while thankfully swallowing mouthful after mouthful from the group's new wellspring.

Ogawa, meanwhile, had sidled closer to Troi and was now stroking the Betazoid's still hard member as the taller woman moaned haltingly, fondling the nurse's breasts.

Putting her tricorder away, Crusher stopped fighting the plasmic energy's effects, joining the two women as Ogawa bent over, supporting herself with the palms of her hands on the fallen trunk while parting her feet on the moss. With a smile, Crusher held her subordinate's cheeks apart while Troi inserted her cockhead to the tight, but pliable vagina Crusher offered up.

Troi relished Ogawa's deepening moans as she pushed herself forward and inside, slowly filling her canal as her eyelids fluttered in passionate abandon. Once she'd filled her, she began slowly pumping the little woman's pussy as Beverly positioned herself beneath, in a position to lick Ogawa's clit and Troi's pumping shaft.

A grunt from her left caused Crusher to glance towards Wesley and T'vor. The Ensigns were fucking, Wesley still in the same position with his back against the fallen trunk while T'vor stood with her feet planted on either side of his hips. With his cockhead already started between her full pussy lips, he ardently licked T'vor's clit until she began driving herself downward, groaning loudly as her eyes rolled in pleasured pain.

When Troi's cock, running with Ogawa's thick pussy juices, was offered up, Crusher never hesitated, taking the entire length into her mouth with a glad humming sound. She sucked the wonderful appendage clean of her nurse's tasty essence, sucking more vigorously as Alyssa repositioned, her eager tongue finding the hard, erected nub between the Doctor's legs.

She and Troi came at the same time, Crusher's body greedily swallowing as her mind slipped on an orgasmic banana peel. The sensations were overwhelming, much more intense than orgasms had been before she'd come to this accursed planet. Even the familiar tingly feel all over her body went unnoticed amidst the group's erotic cries and moans, the crashing wave fronts of extreme orgasmic pleasure upon her numbed senses. Even when she understood that her eyes were seeing the interior bulkheads of Transporter Room Four, her mind refused to properly process the new reality of their situation.

Having received word from Starbase Five that the Enterprise's shuttle of four attendees hadn't arrived at the 'Women of Starfleet' conference, Captain Picard had ordered the Enterprise on an immediate return course to the last known position of the shuttle. From there, they followed its planned course until they'd come across debris which was soon confirmed as Federation type hull plating. Following an almost completely dissipated trail of warp core coolant brought them to the vicinity of planet 4731J-3 where they soon received the emergency beacon's signal. After that, the Enterprise quickly moved to a standard orbit of that planet for immediate transporter retrieval of their five missing crewpersons.

The concern Commander William Riker had felt as he stood waiting just ahead of the transporter console slowly turned to confusion and stupefaction as the group materialized on the pad in front of him.

Dr. Crusher, clad only in regulation, sciences blue panties with their crotch ripped out, was having her pussy sucked by her head nurse, also clad only in regulation panties, the crotch of these torn completely in half. While Crusher obviously orgasmed, she sucked a cock that somehow belonged to his past lover, Councillor Deanna Troi. The councillor was currently yelping and squealing, completely unaware of her surroundings as the doctor gulped the load from an impressive set of balls. Wesley lay on his back, whining and groaning as he stroked an unimaginably huge, hard penis that belonged to him. Its base was easily over a foot thick, length ending with its cockhead literally in the Acting ensign's face. The tattered waistband of his briefs stretched around the shaft, his com badge and rank pip clinging absurdly to the tattered undergarment as the huge scrotum pumped repeated loads of cum into his mouth and over his dazed face.

The only member of the shuttle crew who was aware of her surroundings was Ensign T'vor, stepping proudly from the transporter pad in nothing but her red, Starfleet issue panties, standing dispassionately before him with a holstered phaser to introduce her non-existent father.

Wide eyed, Riker looked back to O'Brien, who also stood in perplexity, blinking at the scene before him as the Commander touched his com badge to call for Security.

We weren't ourselves

Crusher waited uncomfortably in Ten Forward. Public appearances, even while on shift, had become at least tolerable thanks to Deanna's insistence that they not hide out. Beverly knew she was right, and it wasn't as though events regarding 4731J-3 were available to just anyone, but the sense of personal shame had never left since the group's rescue from that place. With a deep sigh, she remembered her confused shouting as Security dragged them, naked, through the ship's corridors and to her own sickbay where they were immediately sedated.

It had been almost four weeks before the effects of the plasmic mist on her mind had dissipated sufficiently to allow her to write her report, but both she and Troi knew by that time what all would be included. They'd decided to tell the entire truth as they remembered it, hoping their honesty, the unforeseeable circumstances involved and the fact that the Prime Directive didn't really apply would be enough to spare them a court martial.

They were.

But the matter did still result in a 'vague stain', as Admiral Quinn had put it, on both their records. Translated, this meant Starfleet was just as embarrassed by the whole thing as they were and, while they couldn't be held at fault for the senseless deaths incurred by the Highland Tribe due to temporary mental incapacity. The incident, however, was seen as horrifically tragic enough that it couldn't go unpunished in some way, though not in a way that Starfleet might someday have to explain.

However, aside from how Security dragged them through the ship in the condition they were in when they'd been suddenly transported aboard, the worst part of the entire situation was Jean Luc. While he was the only one on the Enterprise who'd actually read the now classified reports, the true details of what all had happened, this was bad enough. The way he sometimes looked at her, even after six months, made her want to cringe.

Councillor Troi finally entered Ten Forward, wisely dressed in a proper uniform with a pasted expression of serenity. People looked, their glances lingering on the attractive Councillor with the oversized breasts, no doubt wondering if the rumours were true. Beverly felt for her, she having suffered the most from their escort through the public corridors to sickbay, but she'd been holding up well.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized in a low voice as she slid into the booth at the window, the stars seemingly coming right at them as they faced one another with awkward smiles.

"It's okay," Beverly told her, involuntarily glancing around before saying, "I received a message from Wesley at Starfleet Medical today."

"Oh? How is he?"

"They've managed to duplicate his sperm. He says they'll want a few months of testing, and then they can begin the operations."

"Well... that's positive."

Beverly smiled uncertainly, looking down to her teacup for a short, uncomfortable pause before Troi cleared her throat and asked, "Have they determined what happened to us?"

"Yes," the doctor sighed. "That's the other reason I wanted to talk to you. As we knew, it was the plasmic mist that impaired our minds but, according to Starfleet Medical's findings, it was also responsible for our mutations, just as Glarda'Qua said. I suspected as much, even on the planet, but I knew the Mongo cum had to have something to do with it. It turns out it did. Before we drank it, the plasmic mist had a limited mutative effect, but every drop of Mongo cum we swallowed contained mitochondrial DNA, dormant within Mongo physiology, but when introduced to Human physiology...

"As it stands, not even the Daystrom Institute has been let in on this. I can only imagine the circus at Starfleet Medical over the ethical questions of using such ground breaking data, considering its source. I wouldn't be surprised if every doctor there's been assigned his or her own JAG."

Deanna was listening, but staring at her hot chocolate, obviously with something else on her mind. Beverly could see this and, after allowing a long moment of pause, the councillor opened up.

"I, uh... received word from the Xenia facility almost two months ago."

"You did?"

"I didn't tell you then because you were clearly still having some trouble with some aspects of our time on that planet, especially surrounding Wesley. I didn't want to... Anyway, T'vor's doing much better. Her medications are working, and they hope to discharge her... at some point."

"That's... that's good," Crusher said, her smile strained.

Another moment of silence went by before Troi asked, "How are you and Alyssa getting along?"

"The same," Beverly toned, her eyes making another subtle sweep of the room as a blush of shame crept up her body at the mention of that name. "She's as professional and efficient as ever, but she's only professionally polite. She's just not the same person. She refuses to talk about it, and I know it's mostly because of the way we... we took advantage... sacrificed her in a useless attempt to save ourselves."

"We weren't ourselves," Deanna reminded.

"Yes, you keep saying that, and I know it's true, but..."

" ... I know."

"I wish I could handle this like you," crusher said. "I have no idea when this is going to get old for me, and the constant reminder that Wesley represents is... sometimes overwhelming."

"As a psychologist, I'm probably better at hiding how I feel than I am in actually dealing with it," Troi replied with a wry grin. "Every time Will looks at me, I get a forced politeness that tries to cover his revulsion of me."

" ... I'm sorry," Crusher told her. "Here I am complaining about my circumstances while you..."

"It's alright," Troi said, waving off her friend's concern. "I've personally accepted it, and it's not as though I ever expected we'd get back together some day."

A pause grew between the two, Troi ruminating on the news she'd gotten from the specialists at Starfleet Intelligence Beverly had referred her to, the very same ones whose care Wesley was now in. After several consultations and examinations, their verdict was that they could indeed put her back to rights. It wouldn't be her old vagina, but it would look normal and would be functional in terms of urination and sexual intercourse. During sexual intercourse, however, she would receive no pleasure and, possibly, no sensation whatsoever.

Troi's decision to keep her penis somehow didn't surprise Beverly. As a sensual person, the idea of non-sexuality for the rest of her life would have been unacceptable to the Betazoid. Unlike Wesley, her evolved genetalia didn't interfere with her life, nor did her new hybrid Human/Betazoid/Mongo biology require a specialized diet, so she could continue to exist on what she always had, including chocolate. As of late, she'd been becoming friendly with Ensign McBride, a busty little redhead with an enticing ass from Engineering who, from her psychological profile, might very much enjoy the company of a 'meghanmarkle'.