A Fine Line

'That's not leather.'

'No it's not. You're right.'

'Is it some kind of plastic?'

'Shhhhh. Hold still.' Janeway held the squirter bottle of warm lube in one hand and struggled to inch the thin red vinyl up Seven's knees. 'Damn. There has to be a trick to this.'

'One moment.' Seven gazed away into the far corner, and the Captain knew her Borg was thinking Borg thoughts again. So what as long as she came up with a good idea. 'Ah. I have it Captain. Cricket.'

'Cricket? What, the game? How's that going to help me wedge your tight thighs into these?' Janeway sat back on her heels, tugged her old towelling robe around her and stared up at the half clad figure.

'Specifically, cricket bats. The grip on the handle wears out and needs replacing. The rubber tube of the grip is stretched over a long thin cone, then rolled downwards to gather at one end. The rolled rubber is then applied to the end of the handle and unrolled over the shaft. Efficient.' Seven gestured at the new outfit. 'Shall we try?'

Janeway bushed her hair out of her eyes and nodded. 'Fine with me. The sooner you get these on, the quicker I can get started.'

'Captain?'

'Never mind. You'll see.' Janeway grabbed the creased and gathered vinyl and stripped it downwards. 'Right then, let's start again. Computer? Produce one solid cone shape, one meter tall, diameter of base 20cm.'

<*chirp*>

With quick efficiency, Seven rolled the legs of her red plastic stockings into donut shapes and slipped them over her ankles. Janeway took two palmfuls of lube and greased up her friends legs, taking her time, and giving her full attention to covering every single spot. Then in a smooth and easy motion, the leggings were unrolled up the Borg's legs to the tops of her thighs, just below the tidy nest of blonde curls. Janeway fastened the suspenders and stood back to admire her work.

'Mmmmm, that looks pretty good.'

The suspenders were attached to a red plastic corset that laced up the front very tightly. It was cut to fit under her breasts. Her arms were sheathed in long shiny red plastic gloves that went past her elbows. Seven stood for a minute, being admired, turning slightly this way, and back, then stepped into the dangerously high, black, strappy, steel heeled stilettos. Janeway smiled. Then knelt to fasten the thin black leather straps and buckles of the shoes. She placed a soft kiss on the Borg's ankle, resting her fingers against the toe, her breath misting the patent leather.

'Comfortable Seven?' she whispered across her feet,

'Surprisingly, yes. But it is quite cool on the holodeck.'

'Yes. Well I can fix that. But first, let me finish you off.' The Captain padded over to a suitcase resting on a side table. She returned, holding her hands behind her back, saving a small surprise till the last moment. The older woman stood close to her friend who, because of the high heels, stood several inches taller. Janeway leaned over and rested a cheek against the soft pale breast presented to her by the cut away corset. She could feel the warm, smooth skin against her cheek and imagined the pulse of Borg blood flowing through that perfect breast, raising the nipple against her face. She brushed a tongue tip against that nipple before reaching up to fasten a thick, black leather collar around Seven's slim white neck. It buckled on the side and the excess strap hung down like a handle. Janeway smiled as she felt Seven go tense and take a deep, settling breath.

'Computer. Fasten her ankles.'

<*chirp*>

With a snick of cold steel, two clamps emerged from the cold metal decking and fastened securely around Seven's ankles. The Borg's feet were slightly apart from being dressed. Now they would stay that way.

'Captain?' Seven clenched and unclenched her red vinyl hands nervously.

'Relax Seven. It seems you have no choice.' Janeway cupped her friends chin with one hand. 'Do you like your collar?'

'It serves no function.'

'You may think so now. I will ask you again later.' Still gripping her chin Janeway barked 'Computer! 5m of kevlar sailing line and a knife. A sharp one.' The rope and knife materialised on the floor.

'Put you hands behind your back, and grab your wrists.'

The borg hesitated, but Janeway applied a steady pressure to face and jaw held in her fist. When the Borg complied, she released her face leaving the imprint of her thumb clearly visible on the pale flesh.

'I expect you to obey an order, Seven.'

'I. . . yes, Captain.'

Janeway took the rope and bound the locked wrists together, trimming the excess rope with her knife. The line cut into the thin red gloves; the plastic making slight squeaking noises as Seven shifted against the tight bonds.

Finishing her task, Janeway stayed behind her friend, admiring the smooth curve of her exposed ass and running a hand lightly over their rounded form.

'Computer. Raise ambient temperature by 10C.'

<*chirp*>

The Captain slipped her robe from her shoulders. Except for a tight black leather G string she was naked underneath. It would be cooler that way. Flogging was heavy work.

She returned to the suitcase and pulled out her whip. It was a long, heavy black braided stock whip with a spit end. It trailed along the deck seemingly with a life of its own as Janeway twitched her wrist expertly, feeling the play in the supple leather and relishing it. With a quick turn of her wrist, she lay the end against Seven's foot. The borg looked down, back at Janeway, then tensed her shoulders against the tightly bound wrists behind her back.

'Sorry Seven. It's payback time.'

Her first stroke landed across Seven's right breast. The impact mark went white at first, then blazed scarlet. Seven gasped, and flung her head back, flinching from the tip as it whistled past her face.

'Careful Seven. Your feet are fastened to the floor. If you fall, you ankles will snap. That would hurt.'

'*That* would hurt? What do you think that just did? Ahhh!' Her protests were cut short as the whip landed on her other breast, leaving a matching mark.

Janeway pulled the plaited length through her fingers and approached her borg. With gentle finger tips, she stroked the two red marks, already raised and throbbing staining the pale flesh. Seven shivered at her touch.

'Then let me kiss it better.' Her mouth descended on the breast and with teeth and lips, Janeway attacked. She raised her head only when a set of bite marks adorned the welt.

'Happy now? Let me see.' Janeway slid her hand down the red plastic and through the tight curls across Seven's clit. As she touched her, Seven came, and swayed into Janeway's hand, sliding down onto her fingers, and Janeway obliged by working two fingers deep into Seven's wet cunt.

'I guess it worked for you after all. You have to learn to trust me, Seven.'

'I'm. . . sorry, Captain. It won't happen again.'

'Yes it will. Now remember, be still. You can yell if you like.'

Janeway removed her hand, and slowly licked her fingers clean. It wouldn't do to have a slippery grip. Might lose her accuracy. She wiped the remaining moisture against Seven's cheek, then moved behind the borg and contemplated that perfect ass.

Her arm raised, and then, with expert skill the lash descended. The light, hardly touching strokes alternated on each cheek until Janeway could see Seven's shoulders relax and ease down. She was learning trust. Time to test that.

The next blow was hard; Seven's skin was warmed and sensitive after the early work. It felt like a knife against her flesh. She arched her back and cried out, thrusting her hips forward away from the pain. It didn't help. Janeway bore down and followed blow after blow, her arm becoming weightless as she succumbed to the rhythm of the beating, her mind focused on placing her blows and the heat of her exertions and excitement causing sweat to fly from her brow. She heard nothing but the whistling of the black leather through the air and the loud crack as it impacted on the bruised and reddened flesh of her Borg.

Janeway could feel the heat rising within her and her bare feet shifted on the floor. The borg was hurting; she could tell by the swaying and shuddering. It made placement so much more of a challenge. By now, the skin of her ass would be expecting abuse. But it could always hurt more. Janeway halted, and ran her hand down her own front, over her sweaty chest and nipples, down her hard, well muscled stomach and coming to rest lightly against her cunt. She stepped to the side, the whip hung loosely from her other hand. Her breath came rapidly, but was only half due to the exertions of the flogging. Even through the leather of her g string, the light touch of her fingers nearly bought her off. She was so close, but needed just one more push.

Seven raised her head at the pause in proceedings, but could not speak. She swayed unsteadily, her knees trembling.

'Seven?' Janeway whispered, checking from force of habit, not concern. She'd never pushed Seven this far before. All the mind games, all the control, all the testing of each other and acceptance of their roles, had lead to this moment. And still the borg acquiesced.

The borg nodded, her hair lank and darkened against her sweaty face. Her acknowledgement did not register with the Captain. At this point, nothing did. Only the need. Only the want. Only the necessity of satisfaction.

'Come with me,' the Captain hissed, raising her arm, and closing her eyes in anticipation of her release.

Her arm was pumped from the flogging she'd given. Seven was not expecting the blow. Her aim was impaired by the rush of sensation that flowed through her. And the result of this mistake was unexpected and overwhelming. Janeway cried out as her last blow landed the full weight of the heavy whip against the back of Seven's knees, splitting the red plastic and the underlying skin in one go, sending the woman crashing forward onto her knees.

Her ankles were still fastened firmly to the floor.

***********

'Thank you, Doctor.' 'Not at all, Captain. Seven. What an unfortunate accident. Could happen to anyone. Perhaps rockclimbing isn't such a good idea after all. May I suggest taking up something a little less painful? Like bridge? Or needlework?'

'Needlework?' Seven raised an eyebrow at Janeway who laughed.

'Sewing, Seven. Not really our cup of tea.' Janeway helped Seven down from the biobed and held her am while the borg tested the repairs made to her broken ankles. The bone knitter had done its work well. She could stand. She could walk. It sufficed. Janeway went to help the borg back to her quarters, but the doctor caught her arm.

'Excuse me a moment, Captain.'

'Doctor? Yes, just let me take Seven to.'

'She'll be right.' The doctor waved a hesitant Seven out of the door. 'You go on, Seven. The exercise will be good for those ankles.' Seven nodded and left. The doctor still held Janeway's arm. When he noticed, he dropped it like a hot stone.

'Well doctor? You have something to say?'

The hologram retreated behind the biobed, putting distance between himself and the Captain. She wasn't going to like this.

'That wasn't a rock climbing accident, was it Captain. There were no impact bruises on her feet that would have resulted in an ankle injury by falling. Also the bruising to her buttocks and the gash behind her knees are not consistent with this type of accident.'

'And?'

'And it's my duty as ship's medical officer to investigate possible instances of unsafe working conditions as a part of my occupational health and safety agenda.'

Janeway smiled, but not in a nice way.

'It. Was. An. Accident.'

The doctor's lips tensed into a thin line. He approached Janeway and stood nose to nose with the Captain. Let the Captain switch him off if she had to, but he'd worked too long and hard on Seven to let her be ruined by "careless" accidents.

'Yes, it was,' he whispered tersely. 'Seven was hurt. Do I need to remind you of your responsibilities?'

For several heartbeats Janeway froze. It appalled her to be confronted by a holoprogram like this, but it disgusted her even more that he was right. She dropped her eyes, and reached for the doctor's arm. He flinched, but her touch was soft.

'It seems you do, doctor. Thank you. Now I'd better go see Seven.'

The doctor nodded, and watched the Captain leave. His programming made him sigh with relief.

'My, that was tense,' he mumbled, returning to his console. Humming an aria from Madame Butterfly he called up some research notes. It would help to be better prepared for this type of situation.

For when it happened again.

***********

'Are you mad at me Seven?'

'What makes you think that?'

'You're not looking at me, you haven't said a word and you're reading a book without turning pages.'

'It's a very boring book.'

'Seven.' Janeway sat down next to the borg and pushed the book onto her lap. 'It was an accident.'

'Was it?'

Janeway bit her lip, and clenched her fingers in her lap. All the way back up from sickbay she'd been asking herself the same question. For the last hour she'd been waiting for Seven to speak, to remonstrate with her, to yell abuse. Any kind of confrontation would have been welcome. But the borg had retreated to the lounge with a copy of some cheesy romance novel, and had studiously ignored Janeway's impatience. It was only the doctor's reminder that had spurred Janeway to finally break the ice.

Now she had to face that question with Seven and try to answer not only the borg, but herself.

'I did not *intend* to break your ankles.'

'No. You are skilled. Your placement was perfect. Your control was absolute. You can gauge the level of tolerance and assess my limits with uncanny accuracy. It was no accident.'

What Seven said was true, or had been up till now. Could it have been deliberate? Could that moment of need for self gratification have overcome her own discipline and control? Her duty of care towards Seven had been breached. From Seven's point of view, the betrayal must be inexcusable. Janeway had just about decided to throw herself on Seven's mercy, but a thought stopped her.

'Seven, I made an error. Several errors. I lost control, I exceeded our limits and I misplaced a shot.'

'On purpose.' The borg refused to look at her.

'NO! I got carried away, it was a heat of the moment thing. My passion, my need, Seven. Do you understand?'

'It *must* have been deliberate. You do not make mistakes.'

'Yes I do! Seven, look at me!' Janeway grabbed Seven's shoulders, and swung her to face her. 'I made a mistake. I'm sorry. I'm only human.'

'No.' Seven whispered, her eyes filling with tears. 'Please. I need you to be perfect. I need you to be more. like. me.'

'Seven.' Janeway clutched the borg to her, burying her head against the soft neck and feeling her arms cling tightly around her back. 'Nobody's perfect.'

*************