The Flip Side of Sin (1/8)

"It was far easier for you as civilized men to behave like barbarians than it was for them as barbarians to behave like civilized men." --Spock (“Mirror, Mirror”)

“I liked her.  She did whatever she wanted to do and she didn’t give a fuck.”  --Sheila (“Sexy Beast”)

“I won’t deny it; I’m a straight rider…you don’t want to fuck with me…”-- Tupac Shakur (“Ambitionz az a Ridah”)

>< >< >< >< ><

One:  Miss Diva

That bitch ass captain has confined me to quarters.  I mean, as it isn’t bad enough that I’m wearing this horrid uniform, he decides to imprison me in this god-awful plastic lavender room.  Her room!  That fucking princess woman-child!  I mean, what kind of room is this for a grown woman to have?  Looks like the room of a little girl, all of this frilly pastel!  All that’s missing are the fucking teddy bears and baby dolls!  Ugh!

The only reason why he stuck me in this hellhole is because I’ve been stuck in this shithole!  For some reason, I wasn’t able to beam back to my universe and he knew it instantly.  The Vulcan.  Spock.  Their version of Spock, who is much hotter without a beard that the fucking stuck-up Spock is in my world.  As soon as the transport took place, he advised the captain that I was still here and that it was best I be confined to her quarters until they could figure out what happened.  Their captain agreed immediately.

It took three motherfucking security guards to get me in here.  Had I had my blade, it would have taken six.  They grabbed me by the arms and legs and dragged me down here.  I know that there’s one of them standing outside my door, but I’ll deal with that baby in a little while.  I’ve got to get my head right.  Got to figure out what to do, how to survive and how to get the hell out of this godforsaken place.

Before I can do that, I have got to find something else to wear!  And as I went through her closets and dressers, I saw the same old same old same old shit!  NOTHING!  She has absolutely nothing appropriate to wear!  Everything is covered!  Everything!  Everything that matters!  And then the lounge outfits are horrid pastel muumuus that I wouldn’t be caught dead in; there’s no pretty lingerie, only safe cotton panties and horrible Kevlar bras, full-cover tights and such unsatisfying footwear.  How is a woman supposed to use her goodies if they’re imprisoned?  What the hell!  I haven’t worn cotton panties since I was twelve years old…is she a fucking virgin? One of those goody-goody do-gooders, all sweet and innocent and demure?  What the fuck?  I can’t believe they stuck me in this place!!!

Calm down, Ny, calm down.  Breathe.  Get your head right.  First things first.  In time.  One at a time.   Check the place out.  See what you can find that you can use.  Get yourself together and then we’ll be about the business at hand.  She has no weapons in this room.  No knives, no phaser, no anything.  So the first step is to get to the armory and get a knife or two.  Second step, get to the commons and get some supplies.  Make adjustments.  Then you can take care of everything else.

BUT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ALL THAT IF I DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT CLOTHES TO WEAR?  WHAT THE FUCK!  STUPID BITCH!

There’s got to be something I can use.  A woman this uptight has got to have a pair of scissors or some sharp object.  I literally started throwing clothes around the room, dumping drawers, emptying closets, looking under the bed for anything and finding nothing.  Nothing.  I wanted to scream.  I sat on that horrible lavender coverlet and put my hands on my forehead.  This wasn’t happening.  This could not be happening.  I couldn’t possibly be stuck here.  What happened that made my transport didn’t take place?  My colleagues were able to go home…why wasn’t I?  I was stuck in this hellhole!

I screamed.  I couldn’t help it.  I was trapped in this nightmare.  I lay down on the bed and screamed into the pillow.

A little while later, my head was clear.  Okay, Ny.  Get it together.  Rational, calm, cool.  Do what you need to do; do what you must do.  First things first, confirm the merchandise.  I stood in the mirror and checked my hair.  Few swipes of the comb and it was flawless.  Checked the nails; not even a chip.  Checked the face…need I say more?

Fabulous, baby, fabulous!  I’ve been a dime since the age of fifteen, since the boys started sniffing me.

The uniform was appalling, but I smoothed and tucked, lifted and stretched.  The only thing remotely acceptable was that the skirt was short, but it meant nothing because of the matching tights and the full stockings.  Fucking prude.  A real woman wears garters for easy access.  You never know when you may have to give a man a little whiff to get your way, and I happen to know all the men want a whiff of what I got.  One little taste and I’ve got them on their knees.  Heaven forbid if I let them fuck.

But I don’t let them do that unless there’s something in it for me.  Like that darling little ensign Chris.  He was such good friends with that slut Janice Rand; the bitch who was in my way, the tramp who I know slobbed the captain’s knob on a fucking daily basis to get and to keep a position she was nowhere near qualified for.  Chris was her friend, her buddy, her pal.  Or so she thought.  I broke that tender young thing down, turned his ass out, got him to kill that bitch and get her out of my way.  And just like that, the job of chief communicator was mine.  Easy as pie.  And I’d do it again.

I will use what I got to get what I want.  By any means necessary, baby.  I’m not afraid to use sex as a weapon.

This will have to do.  I turned to check the caboose; high and round just like a big fat apple.  I slapped my ass and struck a pose—fabulous, baby, fabulous!—and slunk towards the door.  What I would do when I got to it was beyond me, but never let it be said a woman like me couldn’t think on her feet.  Even in these sorry ass low-heeled boots.  Now I would kill for my leather thigh-high boots with the four and a half inch heel.

The door opened.  I stuck my head out.  Indeed, there was my sentinel, standing at attention like a good little Starfleet boy should.  He’s a young thing, a sweet little tenderoni.  I’m sure he’s about two minutes off the fucking tit, so I know he isn’t qualified to get any of this.  I put on my sexiest pout and looked at him.

“Can you help me?”

“Miss Uhura, I’m not supposed to leave my post.”

“I didn’t ask you to leave your post, baby.  I just asked if you could help me.”

He was looking at my mouth.  I licked my lips.  “I need you to reach something for me.  I can’t get it.  I promise, that is all I want.”

He smiled.  Sucker.  “All right, as long as it’s quick.”

He walked into my suite and I pointed to the top of my shelf.  “I’ve tried and I just…can’t…do…it…I need a big, strong man like you to help me out, and I thank you so much.”

“No problem, Miss Uhura.  Now what is it you want me to get?”

“That…that right there…”  I pointed and he reached.  The minute his eyes left me, I kicked him in the balls.  He grabbed them and fell to his knees.  I kicked him in the head and he fell down, unconscious.  I took his phaser and set it to stun—murder doesn’t serve my interests at this time—and shot him.  I gagged him with a pair of those detestable cotton panties, tied his hands around his back with a pair of stockings, and secured his feet to the bed with one of those horrendous bras.  He’d keep nicely until I got back and baby boy wouldn’t know what the fuck happened to him.  Dumbass.

I stuck the phaser in my boot, checked the mirror once more—fabulous, baby, fabulous!—and headed for the armory.

>< >< >< >< ><

The armory chief was a fairly attractive older man, someone I could fuck if he were in a position of real power.  He’s not, but he’s got something I need.  That doesn’t mean I’ll fuck him, but I was going to do something to make him give me what I want.  He was at his console, fiddling with the controls when I walked up to him.

“Lt. Uhura.”

I smiled.  “Hello, Mr…?”

“Sparks.”  He started to blush.  I’m not a fool.  He must have had a thing for my counterpart.  Ah, power.  I leaned against the console and put my hand on my waist.

“Mr. Sparks, hello.  I am in serious need of assistance.”

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”  He tried to continue to look in my eyes but one brief glance over the goodies let me know that this was going to be a piece of cake.

“I am in need of some knives, Mr. Sparks.”  I slid my hand up towards my boob.  “I find myself at a loss for a project I am completing.”

“The captain has not authorized…”  His eyes were on my hand.

I cupped my breast and began rubbing it to get a nipple to pop.  “I’m not going to hurt anyone, Mr. Sparks.  And really,” I squeezed, feeling my nipple harden, “does he need to be authorized?  He’s got his hands full dealing with the damage to the ship; you don’t need to worry him about this.”

“Well…” He swallowed, looking at my breast.  Yes baby.  Come to Mama.  “…what kind of knives are you wanting, Lieutenant?”

I continued to rub, hating that I didn’t have my normal attire.  I’d have had the blades in hand by now.

“Do you have a six inch tanto of carbon steel?”

“Yes.”

“And do you have a three inch Harpy?”

“Yes?”

“Then that’s what I’ll need, Mr. Sparks,” I said in a slow voice, fingering my erect nipple.

“Give me a moment, Lt.  Uhura,” he said, staring at my breasts like they were something to eat.  If he was worth a shit or man enough, maybe.  But I don’t fuck weak men.

He diddled with his console and the armory vault opened.  “Wait right here.”

“All right,” I said.  “Thank you, Mr. Sparks.”

In a few minutes, he was back with my knives.  The moment he put them in my hands, I felt semi-whole.  I’m not dumb.  I went over and kissed his cheek, making sure my breasts bumped against him.  I might need his assistance again one day.  He blushed bright red.  “I won’t tell if  you won’t,” I whispered.

“Lt. Uhura,” he said, blushing.

“Our little secret, right?”  I knew he wouldn’t say anything because he could get in trouble for it.  Sucker.

“Right.”

“Then I’ll be leaving now.  Thank you again, Mr. Sparks.”  I turned and walked away, shaking the caboose for all it was worth.  He could look as much as he wanted to.  But if he ever touched it, I’d shank him where he stood.

On to the next task.  I went down to the ship’s commons and found the commissary.  I needed supplies, but first I needed to know how many credits I had to play with over here.  So I smiled at the clerk and he allowed me to check my balance.

That fucking goody-goody hasn’t spent a fucking dime, it seems like.  She’s got over a hundred thousand credits saved.  Oh well, I will make good use of them.  I bought two pairs of scissors, needles and thread, and a small bit of black cloth.  I picked up several packs of bubble gum and a few lollipops.  Then I went next door to the ship’s stores and picked up all of the current catalogues.  I headed back to that lavender fortress, and just like I figured, my little sentinel was still unconscious.  I put down my items and untied him and removed his gag.  Then I dragged him to the door, checked to make sure all was clear, and then rolled his dumb ass out into the corridor and shut the door. 

I popped two pieces of gum, removed the horrible uniform I wore, sat down and got to work.

>< >< >< >< ><

I knew he was coming and when he showed up with that delectable first officer, I was as ready as I could be.  I was able to make some quick adjustments to my uniform:  separated the bodice from the skirt to make a midriff, removed the sleeves and made a slit in the front that was just the right length for me to get quick access if it was necessary.  Or it would have been had I not been wearing those damned tights.  No matter.  I’d have my regular attire soon enough.  These bitches must be sexually frustrated, having to wear such staid uniforms.

The captain walked into my room and seemed surprised that I was in there.  He looked around at the mess I’d made.  The security guard was still at my door, but he looked confused.  He must have told him that I escaped, but he was looking quite the fool right about now.  Sucker.

“Captain?”  I said, looking at him.  “Mr. Spock?” I blew a bubble and popped it, snapping the gum.  I’m just like a shark with a scent in my nose when men of power are in my vicinity.

Both of them—both of them—took a look at my modified uniform before looking at my face.  I put a hand on my hip.  “Can I help you?”

“Lieutenant Uhura…”

“Yes?”

“What did you do to your uniform?”

I shifted my weight to one hip.  “I made adjustments.  I couldn’t wear it like it was before.”

“Your attire is inappropriate.”

“Captain, I am confined to quarters, so does it make a difference?  This isn’t my world and I’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant being stuck in this pastel palace.”

“I am sorry about that, Lieutenant.  I don’t know what happened.  I’ve got Scotty checking everything, but I don’t know why you weren’t able to beam back to your universe.  We’re trying to figure it out.”

“And the window of opportunity for you to do so has passed because the ion storm has ceased,” Spock said.  “So you will remain with us, Lieutenant. For now.”

I closed my eyes.  “This is wrong!  I don’t want to stay here!  I want to go back home!”

“I am sorry,” Spock said.  “The chances of you going back home are currently .000012 percent.

I folded my arms.  “So now what?  If I can’t go home, then what am I supposed to do?  You confined me to my—her quarters, so what is it that you expect me to do?  Sit here and die?  And then you’re worried about my attire?  Please.”  I rolled my eyes and popped my gum.  I was furious.

“Lieutenant, watch your tone.  You’re dangerously close to insubordination.”  A look flew across his face.

“You’ll forgive me if I’m just a little bit pissed, won’t you?  I’m already confined!  I’ve already been in the brig and now I’m here…and I haven’t done anything to warrant it! So what else can you do to me except relieve me of duty?  Go on and do it!  This isn’t fair!  I could give a damn about insubordination, so you can show yourself out.”

Kirk looked at me like I’d grown another head.  Spock looked at the captain.  “She does have a valid point, Captain.”

Kirk looked at him.  “What do we do about this, Spock?  We need a communicator and none of the other linguists have her exact skill set, and I’m accustomed to my Uhura’s abilities.” 

“She is Lieutenant Uhura, Captain.  Her personality may be different but her abilities should be the same.”

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about me like I’m not here!”  Fuckers!

“I don’t know what to do about this, Spock!”

“I didn’t ask to get stuck here, Captain,” I snapped.  “I didn’t ask for any of this!  What have I done to be confined to my quarters?  And you come down here because you need my help?”  I turned away and folded my arms, wondering if this little game was going to work.

“I need you to resume your duty, Lieutenant,” he said.  “I need my chief communicator.”

“I have no reason to do anything, Captain.  I’ve been treated like nothing more than a prisoner since I beamed upon this ship!”

“Perhaps a compromise of some sort would be beneficial, Captain?” Spock said.

“Compromise?”

“She is correct in that she was imprisoned once she came on the bridge.  Once I informed you that she was still with us, I advised you to confine her to quarters until we could figure out the problem.  She has done nothing to warrant being imprisoned, except the company that she kept.”

“Which is not my fault,” I snapped.

“Lieutenant, face me if you would.”

I turned around, glaring at him.  “Captain.”

“I apologize for the way you’ve been mistreated.  We have pre-judged you and that is not our way here.”

“Thank you,” I said, doing my best to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

“I would appreciate it if you could resume your duties.”

“Captain, I am not used to this environment.  I couldn’t possibly…”  I paused, wondering how best to word what I wanted to say.  How to establish the rules of the game.

“Couldn’t possibly…what?”

“My world is different.  What you’re telling me is that I’m stuck here, but how can you possibly expect me to resume my duties when I am not acclimated to this place?  Look at this room…this is positively horrid!”

“This is the nicest room on board the ship!  This is your room—Lt. Uhura’s room!”

“This is not my room, Captain.  I am not a pastel girl, I should say.  The world I come from is different.  Mr. Spock spoke of compromise.  I am not unreasonable.  I could resume my duties if you agree to let me make the adjustments I need to adapt to this universe.”

Spock nodded.  “Plausible, Captain.  It was my suggestion for her to be confined and I will take full responsibility for helping the lieutenant adjust.”

“What kind of adjustments?”

“Can I redecorate this place?  I couldn’t possibly sleep in all this…ugh!  And may I wear the uniform I am accustomed to?”

“We do not have such uniforms here, Lieutenant.”

“Then can I make the alterations I need to be comfortable?  I can’t resume my duty if I’m uncomfortable.  I hope you understand that.”

Kirk looked at me.  “Lieutenant, Starfleet command would take exception to your wearing a uniform of that nature.”

I put my hands on my hips and struck what I knew to be a sensual pose.  His eyes went to my stomach and they should have.  My abs are tight.  I do 500 crunches every morning just to get this ripple effect.  Motherfucker better look.

“Then it appears that you’re without a communicator, sir.  You are not willing to compromise over something as insignificant as my uniform.  I need it to adapt, sir.  I am not used to…the other.”

Kirk looked at Spock.  Spock looked back.  “I think we could grant her a boon if it would help her become acclimated to our environment.  I do not foresee any problems arising as a result.  It has never been an issue before, Captain.”

“I can just imagine what the women would say, Spock.”

My eyes flashed.  “If you’re worried about that, Captain, I can handle it.”  I wish one of those bitches would say something to me.  They would get knocked the fuck out.

Kirk closed his eyes.  “All right, Lieutenant.  All right.  You can make whatever adjustments you need to make to get used to our universe, but I will not promise that they will be permanent.  You have to adapt to our world if you are going to stay here, and it looks like you are.  I have no problem ordering the redecoration of your suite in whatever colors you prefer.  And you may…alter your uniform in a manner that is preferable, but I warn you to keep it tasteful.”

“Thank you, Captain,” I said, adjusting my stance and watching his eyes move to my stomach.  “I will.”

He looked me over.  He couldn’t help it because I know I looked good.  “I shall have Mr. Spock assist you in your acclimation to our universe.  I dare say you may find it preferable to the society from which you hail.”

“That remains to be seen, Captain.  But again, I thank you for your generosity.”  Sucker.

He nodded.  “Mr. Spock, I will take you up on your offer.  I want you to assist Uhura in her adjustments.  Do what you can to make her comfortable and help her adapt.  Since this compromise was your idea, I am putting her in your capable hands.  Agreed?”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Lieutenant, do you find this acceptable?”

I looked at Mr. Spock.  I always thought that he—or my universe’s Spock was a very sexy man.  But he never gave me the time of day, the stuck-up bastard.  But this one…he was altogether luscious without a beard, and definitely couldn’t take his eyes off me.  Of course he couldn’t.  Fabulous, baby, fabulous!  “I certainly do,” I said, and smiled at him.

He raised his eyebrow and I winked at him.   I don’t know if Kirk noticed the exchange or not, but I didn’t care. 

“Captain, if it is all right with you, can I have this evening to rest?  I’m still disoriented from the transporter beam and I have a slight headache.”

“Have you had a meal?”  Spock asked.

I glared at him.  “You threw me in the brig as soon as I got here, Mr. Spock.  I am quite…famished.”

Kirk nodded.  “Of course.  I expect for you to assume your duty with no problem, Lieutenant.  Mr. Spock, if you could please bring her something to eat so that she can rest, I’d be grateful.  Now if there is nothing else, I’m going back to the bridge.”

“Thank  you, Captain,” I said.

When he left, I looked at Spock.  “So I’m your responsibility, I guess?”

He looked at me.  “That would appear to be the case.”

I grinned and put my hands on my hips.  “I’ll do my best not to get you in trouble.”