The Seven of Nine Spankings – Episode One

Arriving at her quarters after completing her shift, Janeway found herself pre-occupied with thoughts about her latest “discussion” with Seven of Nine. When Janeway was a girl and her parents argued, it made her upset. Sometimes, they would try to comfort her by saying they were only having a discussion, not an argument. But Janeway knew better.

Still, she felt more comfortable categorizing her disagreements with Seven as discussions. Even though Seven had been aboard Voyager for several months and was becoming more a part of the crew every day, Janeway still was inclined to tread softly around the former Borg drone as she re-claimed and re-discovered her humanity. To be sure, Janeway gave Seven more leeway to question the captain’s judgement than she would accord any other member of the crew, save for Chakotay.

Janeway wondered if others in the crew, like the headstrong Torres or the impulsive Paris, resented the freedom she gave Seven. Janeway did not, however, worry about any such resentment. She was confident that she was pursuing the right path by encouraging Seven to speak up and voice her opinions as they formed. Not only could Seven bring valuable tactical and scientific insights to Voyager, but this opportunity for expression also was Seven’s best opportunity to grow. To grow more and more human, and more comfortable with humanity, Janeway thought.

But maybe today had gone a little too far. Janeway knew Seven usually had good reasons for when she contradicted the captain, but the actual subordination she witnessed today, no matter its slight nature, had shocked Janeway. Torres, a former Maqui, would never ignore a direct order from her commanding officer, but Seven of Nine, less than four months after being rescued from the Borg, had done just that earlier today.

Janeway was having lunch by herself in the Mess, working her way through an Ocampan stew prepared by Neelix, when Seven of Nine entered. She had been assigned to the bridge to help Paris plot a long-term course towards the Alpha quadrant that would avoid areas of heavy Borg activity. This, of course, was exactly the kind of valuable contribution Seven could make to the crew at present, and she had shown no reluctance to help her new crewmates outwit her old ones. If the Borg could be called crewmates, that is.

“Seven, how are the Astrometric adjustments coming,” Janeway asked as Seven walked over to Neelix’s counter. Wrinkling her nose and forehead, Seven hesitantly picked up a bowl of stew.

“The task is proceeding . . . adequately,” Seven replied, resting a tray on Janeway’s table.

“Is there a problem?”

“Lieutenant Paris works at a . . . human pace.”

Janeway could see that Seven was choosing her words carefully. “But not a pace of your choosing, I take it?”

“No. I think I could complete the task more efficiently if I worked alone. Perhaps in the Astrometrics lab. I would submit my work for your review, of course.”

“I understand, but this is a course we won’t be using for weeks. There’s no great hurry to get it done today.”

“Captain, . . .”

“Besides,” Janeway continued, “I think you benefit greatly from working with your crewmates. I know you could do most of this assignment on your own in the Astrometrics lab, but I want you to grow more comfortable working, and just interacting, with other members of this crew.”

“I understand. But surely there are better uses for Lieutenant Paris’s time than watching me program the helm’s computer systems.”

“I’m not sure he’d agree,” Janeway said, certain that Seven had no idea how much Tom Paris and most of Voyager’s crew members, male or female, would enjoy an assignment calling for close proximity to Seven of Nine.

“I do not understand,” Seven replied, shifting uncomfortably in her gray, form-fitting bodysuit. Janeway noticed Seven’s endearing tendency to clasp both her hands behind her when addressing the captain.

“Trust me, Seven, I have good reasons for wanting you to work with Paris on this assignment. As the helmsman, he needs a thorough understanding of where the ship needs to go.”

“Yes captain,” Seven said. Then she walked to an empty table and looked at her lunch, displaying no eagerness to actually dig in.

Janeway had assumed the matter was finished, but when she went to the bridge a few hours later, she saw Paris working by himself, inputting data at the helm computers.

“Isn’t Seven of Nine helping you with that,” Janeway asked.

“I haven’t seen her since I suggested she take a lunch break. She seemed tense and frustrated so I told her I could keep working on my own and that maybe we’d finish tomorrow.”

“I gave her a direct order to continue working with you today.”

Paris knew well the frosty edge that Janeway’s voice could take when she grew angry.

“Computer, identify the location of Seven of Nine,” Janeway intoned.

“Seven of Nine is in the Astrometrics lab,” the computer replied.

Walking into her ready room, Janeway pressed her comm badge.

“Seven of Nine, why are you working alone in the Astrometrics lab?”

“Captain, I . . . thought of something I needed to check before resuming my work on the bridge.”

“You’ve been checking your work since lunch?”

After a pause, back came a hesitant, almost childish reply.

“Yes, captain.”

Janeway was not a mother, but children and subordinates could take the same tone of voice when lying or, more likely in Seven’s case, not telling the entire truth.

“Seven of Nine, stop what you are doing and return to Cargo Bay 2 until I give you further instructions.”

“Captain, I . . .”

Janeway cut her off sharply. “That’s an order, crewman.”

“Yes, captain.”

Janeway’s thoughts were interrupted by the door chime. “Enter.”

“You wished to see me, captain,” Seven said. She entered with her head held high and her posture erect as always. Once again, her hands reflexively clasped together and rested at the top of her backside.

Ironic, Janeway thought, considering what she had in mind.

“You disobeyed a direct order of mine this afternoon.”

Seven remained silent. It occurred to Janeway that since Seven didn’t have a logical argument for what she had done, she had no idea of what to say.

“Maybe later, we can get to why you disobeyed my order, but for now, I need you to understand the chain of command. I cannot have you or any member of this crew disregarding my orders.”

“Yes captain.”

More used to reprimanding the argumentative Torres or the over-eager holographic doctor, Janeway was slightly surprised that Seven was not offering any argument.

“I know you’ve been observing human behavior and studying it in your free time, but there are many customs I’m sure you don’t know about. One in particular that I am thinking of – I doubt it is a practice the Hansons used when you were a girl.”

“Annika Hanson’s parents? What practice did they not use?”

“Seven, do you know what a spanking is?”

“I am not familiar with that term.”

“On earth, it was a common method parents used to discipline disobedient children.”

“Discipline is necessary for order. Why would the Hansons not use a method that maintains order?"

“In the late 20th century, spanking grew controversial. By the time Annika was born, few human parents did it. Mine didn’t.”

“Why was spanking controversial? Was it not effective?”

“Seven . . . I love the way you see through complications that obscure the heart of a matter. There was wide disagreement about whether spanking was effective. But the practice’s opponents eventually convinced its adherents that it was a cruel way to discipline children. You see, a spanking involves the repeated striking of the buttocks, often until the recipient is in tears.”

Seven’s eyes grew wide and her hands shifted a bit. She unfolded her right hand briefly and ran it across the surface of her bottom, before quickly re-clasping her hands behind her.

“Some people considered it almost barbaric, but in our travels, we’ve discovered equivalents in most alien cultures we’ve encountered,” Janeway continued. “I suppose it wasn’t something the Borg considered important which would explain why you never heard of it.”

“You are right that the Hansons did not use this form of discipline,” Seven said, looking toward the door. Then, turning her gaze to Janeway, she added, “You intend to spank me.”

“Yes, unless you disagree.”

“I am not a child. You said spanking is a punishment for children.”

“I oversimplified, but more to the point, in many ways, Seven, you are very childlike. No one can deny your intelligence or your sense of responsibility, but in others ways, socially for example, you are less mature than Naomi Wildman.”

“Does Naomi Wildman receive spankings?”

“I don’t know. It’s none of my business. But I think one would go you good, and reinforce the fact that you cannot disobey a direct command from your captain.”

“I see.”

“You probably won’t like it,” Janeway warned.

“If this is a disciplinary matter, that would be irrelevant.”

“I agree.”

Seven of Nine had no idea of what to do next. Janeway moved over to a sofa in the living area of her quarters and sat down.

“Come over here,” Janeway instructed.

Seven felt both nervous and curious about spanking. She walked into the living area and stood in front of Janeway.

“You need to lay face down across my lap,” Janeway explained.

Suddenly, the way the procedure was supposed to work clarified in Seven’s mind. She was to lie prone across Janeway’s knees, giving the captain access to strike her bottom with her hand. Seven bent down and laid across Janeway’s knees – she was careful to position herself so that her buttocks would be in easy reach of the captain’s right hand.

“Like this,” Seven asked, with no hint of embarrassment.

Janeway was amazed at Seven’s almost clinical approach to taking a spanking, but she shouldn’t have been. Having heard about Seven’s purely innocent offer to “copulate” with Harry Kim, she imagined that Seven had no idea of the possible sexual ramifications of being in this position. She wondered if Seven was even aware of how greatly many humans admired a nice rear end.

She looked down at Seven’s bottom, snuggly framed by her bodysuit. Janeway had traveled much of the galaxy, both in the Delta and Alpha quadrants, and had seen many humanoids, male and female. But she had never seen a more perfect rear end than that possessed by Seven of Nine. An artist at the height of genius could not have sculpted a more perfectly erotic shape.

Seven’s bottom could not accurately be described as small or large because either modifier would imply that it was “too” something. But Seven’s bottom was corporeal perfection. Like many large rear ends, it was round and protruded delightfully, in a way that was almost impossible to obscure. But like smaller backsides, it also had definition – its form heightened and amplified by the way it tucked in at the bottom to create a nearly perfect spherical shape when viewed from the side.

Seven had amazing eyes, a piercing gaze, a fierce intellect, lush, gorgeous hair, long, shapely legs and near-perfect breasts. But Seven’s bottom was undeniably her best physical feature, Janeway thought.

“Captain, isn’t a spanking supposed to involve striking,” Seven asked, interrupting Janeway’s reverie. She was right, of course, and apparently eager to take her first spanking.

“That’s correct. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Seven replied. She waited without tensing up. That would soon change, Janeway thought.

Janeway raised her right hand in the air, hesitated briefly, and then brought it down forcefully on Seven’s right buttock. She then quickly repeated, smacking hard on Seven’s full left cheek.

That barely stung, Seven thought to herself. She had no idea of what to expect, but the mention of tears led her to anticipate sharp, searing pain. Perhaps this is one of the rare things Captain Janeway is not proficient at, she thought.

Janeway proceeded to unleash a torrent of blows on Seven’s gray-clothed bottom, sometimes alternating between the right and left sphere, other times smacking one cheek repeatedly.

After about a minute, Seven was squirming on Janeway’s lap, trying to shift away from the blows. I underestimated the captain’s prowess, Seven thought, but it’s just as well if I am to benefit from this experience.

Janeway stopped spanking and placed her right hand on the small of Seven’s back.

“Is something wrong, captain? Are we done?”

“Not on your life. How do I lower the seat of your bodysuit? Is it all one piece?”

“You need to remove my bodysuit?”

“Yes, for the full effect of this spanking, you need to receive it on your bare . . . uh, backside.”

“I understand,” Seven said, and she rose from Janeway’s lap and began to pull off her garment from the shoulders.

“You don’t need to remove the whole outfit,” Janeway said.

Seven reached behind her and uncovered a zipper that circled her waist. She undid the zipper and began rolling the bottom portion of the gray body suit down her legs. She kicked off her shoes and removed the leggings of her suit. Janeway could see that Seven’s bottom was lightly pink.

Seven moved to put the leggings on a chair and noticed her bottom in a mirror. “My rear end has changed shade,” she said.

“Yes, and it will get even darker before we’re through. Now come back over here.”

Seven hurried back to the sofa, allowing Janeway a brief glimpse of a triangular tuft of hair above Seven’s legs before she lowered herself across Janeway’s knees again.

“You may continue,” Seven said.

Janeway resumed the spanking, trying her best to spread the color around Seven’s firm, resilient bottom. Seven took her punishment stoically, other than for her squirming.

Trying to keep count of the number of smacks in her head, Seven soon realized that she had received 150 smacks since removing the bottom of her suit.

“Captain, you have spanked my right side more times than my left. Is there a reason for this?”

“Seven, you’re counting?”

“Yes, you have spanked my right buttock 77 times and my left buttock 73 times.”

“I’m impressed. Chalk it up to human imperfection. I’ll try to do better,” Janeway said, resuming the spanking.

Curiosity got the better of Seven and she turned her head. She saw Janeway with pursed lips, staring intently and bringing her open right hand, flattened like a circuitry panel, down hard on Seven’s left cheek. Seven shuddered slightly at the blow.

A few smacks later, Seven felt an urge to move her hands, which had been dangling in front of her, down her back to protect her bottom. She knew the captain would not approve, however.

“I wish to inform you that it hurts,” Seven said, with a bit of a yelp.

“Good,” Janeway replied, and she began smacking harder.

“Oww,” Seven cried after a rapid volley of smacks back and forth on her cheeks. She was beginning to lose her composure.

On what Seven counted as the 300th smack, Janeway decided to give her 10 consecutive hard smacks on her left buttock, just to make sure that neither cheek was short-changed.

Seven was squirming and crying out softly now after more smacks than not. On the 10th straight hard blow to her left buttock, Seven’s resolve disappeared and her left hand flew back to cover her sore, reddened backside. With her palm upright, seven covered her left cheek with the fleshy part of her hand, while her fingers straddled the gap between her buttocks and partially covered her right flank.

Janeway marveled at what she saw. She had little doubt that it cost Seven as much, if not more, to lose her composure like this in front of the captain, than it did to submit to this punishment or even to bare half her body.

Seven’s rear end glowed bright red from the lower curvature of her round spheres all the way to the top of her posterior near the small of her back.

With the din of all the incessant smacking subsided, Janeway suddenly realized that she could hear sniffling. Seven was weeping.

Janeway relaxed and rested back against the couch. “Get up, Seven,” she said softly, yet firmly.

Seven rose, her legs buckling slightly. Her right hand was up against her face, rubbing tears away. Her left hand was also busy, caressing her well-punished behind.

“Turn around for a moment,” Janeway said. Seven did as she was told and faced away from Janeway. The captain took a moment to admire her handiwork – Seven’s already perfect bottom was even more beautiful when it blushed. Janeway reached out and traced her index finger down the gap between Seven’s cheeks and felt some the warmth of her rear end.

“How are you, Seven,” Janeway asked and the former Borg drone turned to face her.

“My rear end stings and, below the surface, it aches a bit as well. I do not think it would feel good to sit down right now.” She hesitated. “I also feel an unfamiliar emotion. I believe it is called shame. I do not recall feeling this before. I have felt embarrassment several times since coming aboard Voyager, but this sensation is different. Is that what I am supposed to feel?”

“Yes, Seven. Your bottom will feel better in a while, definitely by morning. But it may remain a little colorful for a while.” Janeway could not suppress a grin.

“I will keep you apprised of its condition, captain,” Seven said, beginning to re-dress.

“No need. What I do need is for you to resume working on the Astrometrics charting with Lieutenant Paris at 0800 hours tomorrow. Understood?”

Seven nodded her assent and finished dressing.

“You can go, Seven. I think you need to spend some time in your re-generation chamber.”

Seven walked toward the door and then turned back.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Seven, what is it?”

“Are you going to spank me again?”

“If you require it. Do you think it will be necessary?”

“It may,” Seven replied. She hesitated in the doorway, letting it open and shut.

“Is there something else, Seven?”

“Yes . . . I . . . Thank you.”

Janeway, as usual could not take her eyes off of Seven of Nine as she left the captain’s quarters.

TO BE CONTINUED