Slave DATT's (Dumb Ass Traitor Twat) perspective.

I follow my Mistress to her table, managing to keep up despite her rapid clip. This club is known for its discretion, so no one is going to stare openly at a Domme leading her helpless sub around. But surely, even if she's new, someone will recognize Mistress, notice her switch from bottom to top, and be suspicious?

Except for a few of the other Dommes lewdly leering at my exposed lady parts, no one took notice of a regal Latina Domme leading her pathetic little mummy girl. Don't you bitches know who I am? I'm Captain Phillip-Owww! The Foam punished me with an enormous spike of pain. I quickly thought that's who I was, now I'm Slave Dumb Ass Traitor Twat, DATT. Another spike of pain. What did it want? Then I realized and thought for the next two hours I'm Subbie SWAG Stupid Wrapped Asian Girl. As soon as my mind spit out my other degrading slave name, rewarding me with clitoris stimulation, fuck, was this damn thing making me wet?

We came to my-Owww, jolt of pain, Mistress Gomez's table. She ordered me to sit at rigid attention, something I hadn't done since I was at Starfleet Academy. The smallest thought of disobeying, but a warning headache quickly dispelled that notion.

I sat in the familiar position, feet together at the heels, the rest of the foot at a forty five degree angle from the other. My arms were already held firmly at my side by the Slave Foam, back held rigidly straight. I turned my stare straight ahead, a thousand yard gaze.

Mistress said in her professional tone. "Try to move your body, slave." I tried and couldn't, not a millimeter. "The Foam won't allow new slaves any leeway without a specific command from its Designated Authority. It would leave you locked there until you died of dehydration sitting in your own waste if I never gave it a command. It'll give you more leeway as it thinks you're progressing in your training, at your DA's discretion. Even I can't allow you to move or talk too freely, if the Foam thinks a command will give a slave too much freedom, it will ignore it without a very specific release protocol."

"You can move your head, as you're supposed to be just a wrapped up sub with a bondage hood on her head." I reflexively turned my eyes on her." Immediately she got an angry look on her pretty Latina countenance. "That doesn't mean look at me, you idiot! I don't want you eyeballing me, you scummy traitor!" Eyes forward!"

I swung my gaze back forward, staring at a pretty brunette Domme, with a leashed slave in a bitch suit to her right. I tried to convey "help me." With my eyes, but I knew it was hopeless, she wasn't seeing me as a person, just a thing. She had an amused smile at the sight of a pretty Latina Mistress discipling her wayward wrapped up subbie.

Then I felt a painful jolt on my nipples and clit. Owww-What the! My Domme says in a gloating tone "Felt that, didn't ya, Traitor Twat? That's the Foam's autopunisment routines, basically it analyzes my words and voice stress patterns. If it perceives I'm angry at you for something, it automatically punishes you to motivate you to obey me better." I can sense her looking at me, and know she has to be wearing an evil smirk.

Then her hands enter my line of sight from my right, with my nipple clamp chains. I feel the pain bite my left nipple, try to remain stoic. She actually flicks my right nipple after she attaches the clamp, I can't help it, I let out a squeak.

My Mistress says without even looking at me "Silence, slave." I feel the nasty jolt on my lady parts from the autopunishment routine. I suppose it perceives enough agitation in her voice to perceive I need to be punished. Fucking great.

Then I watch my fierce, dusky young Domme sit down in my favorite seat, right in my line of sight. She slouches as casually as possible, really getting comfortable. She sees another Romulan ale with a straw and umbrella sitting on the table. "Romulan ale, my favorite, I've taken alcohol metabilizers so one shouldn't hurt." I watch my Hispanic Mistress casually scroll on what must be her personal comm, while languidly sipping the drink meant for me; her helplessly wrapped subbie already starting to strain and sweat. I feel some liquid on my right nipple that I hope isn't blood, but I know it must be. I really wish I hadn't brought the nipple clamps or had u-bolts custom installed at this table. My glum thoughts spiral downwards. Captain to slave in 10 minutes is really ruining my vacation.

Petty Officer Gomez's perspective

I lounge in the seat where DATT had formerly plopped her cute little butt, sipping the drink the ex Captain had no doubt ordered. I scrolled through my Comm, seemingly a carefree Domme letting her little subbie sweat. I thought about the imperious way she commanded me when I first walked up to the table. Who's giving the orders now, you treasonous geriatric whore? Though such a sweet little ass for a lady her age. My own personal GILF...

Gynt, the Ferengi proprietor, came up to me, toadying obsequiously. "Ahhh Mistress Vasquez, so good to see you again. He checked his PADD, and you brought your new slave SWAG, Stupid Wrapped Asian Girl. How is that working out for you?" His eyes turn to gaze lustily on my little thrall's girl parts.

I say airily "I guess she's trainable, I might someday make a barely acceptable slave of her." I notice DATT is looking at Gynt with wide, pleading eyes, begging him to recognize her as he leers openly at her exposed, still sexy, old lady goods. You can't even remember or use his name, DATT you fucking dumb ass traitor bitch, you think he's going to help you? You're in for a surprise, cunt!

I waved a privacy force field up and said "Gynt, is there something you'd like to say to my slave?" The Ferengi 's toothy leer grows wider. "Yes, there is." He states eagerly. He puts his hands on her exposed breasts and leans in her face.

"You insolent little Hew-man female, you could never remember my name, I was nothing but a lackey to you. I'm Gynt, of the Ferengi Alliance. You're right where you should be, my dear. If you were for sale, I'd buy you and make you a permanent slave in my club."

I smirked at Gynt's words. That would be hilarious, and a perfect reward for our inside asset Gynt setting her up for us! Unfortunately, until we got everything out of her pretty little Asian head, that was off the table. Maybe after....we'd probably have to make sure no one could ever figure out who she was. We could mind wipe her, but that would spoil the fun of having the uppity bitch know she was the slave of a man she saw as beneath her.

What I said was "Slave DATT, say "Thank you Master Gynt, I'll always remember your name and I appreciate your correcting this slave." I give her credit, she held out for a whole 15 seconds, struggling to endure the AI's punishment of her nipples and clit. Finally, she mumbled around the foam ball in her mouth, the humiliating line she was instructed to the Sleazy proprietor with his hands on her breasts.

Gynt smirked when she finished, and deliberately jerked her clamped nipples, making her let out one of her adorable little shrieks. "See that you do, Captain." Throwing in her old title was a nice touch to mock her, in my opinion.

I released the privacy field, we were Mistress Vasquez and her new Subbie SWAG as far as the proprietor was concerned. "Tell me if you need anything, Mistress Vasquez." I told him sincerely "Thanks for everything, I will, Gynt." He bowed smoothly and Ieft us.

I noticed DATT's nipples were bleeding where the Ferengi had pulled them. I considered ordering the AI to begin healing protocols on her then shrugged. She would live, the cute little traitor deserved far worse. I shrugged and continued scrolling.

This rendition had been going too well, this had been such an easy mission. Of course, something fucking had to happen.

A Klingon and an Orion walked into the club. Sounds like a bad spaceman joke, right? Men were allowed in the club, but they were generally only allowed to drink and watch, though they could arrange to do something with a Domme's private slave, if the Mistress consented.

The purposeful and sure way these men moved told me they probably weren't here to imbibe and watch some hot lesdom action. Gynt saw it too, moving up to buy me sometime by walking up and blocking their paths. He offered them old fashioned hard copy menus, while explaining the Amenities they could avail themselves of. The predatory Alien men looked pissed at this little toady delaying their mission, kill or capture the Earther girls, likely. Good man, Gynt.

I didn't waste the time he was buying me. I quickly unclamped DATT's nipples from the table. I ordered her foam to dispel the illusion of a bondage hood and restore all control protocols, as well as commanding DATT to spit out the foam ball I stuffed in her oral orifice.

I leaned in close, saying "Listen DATT, when I order the foam to give you leave to run freely, stand up and move, girl. If you don't your little Asian ass is probably dead or worse off than before. If you understand, acknowledge me, Slave DATT."

A quick "Yes, Mistress, I understand." She didn't even try to fight the protocols this time, my intelligent little girl knows the stakes.

The Klingon had had enough of Gynt's toadying. He savagely backhanded the Ferengi, sending him flying backwards, the menus falling out of his hands. Just as the Orion pointed right at us and shouted.

That was our cue. I yelled "Let Slave DATT get up, run and follow her Mistress. DATT, you better keep up you dumbass." My little captured turncoat dutifully said "Yes, Mistress." as she rose to her feet.

Fortunately, I knew the layout of this dump by heart, I led us to the back exit, my little mummified girl following. She was keeping up, what an endurant little slave!

Out the door, run to an alleyway, stop and take cover. I wanted to run to the shuttle right away, but needed to assess the situation.

Just then a bald, older guy in some type of cyborg rig appeared in my face. The Foam's AI Avatar. All I knew was his name was Locutus. I had no idea if he was a real person or represented a real species. Even enlisted people in Section 31 or kept on a strict need to know basis by our fuckhead Officers.

The Avatar intoned in a blank cold voice. "The Slave's fear and stress levels are dangerously high. Locutus respectfully reminds Mistress Gomez that despite being in excellent physical condition, the slave is an older Terran female. The autopunisment protocols are pushing her to a possible myocardial infarction or stroke. Locutus recommends Mistress Vasquez to suspend Autopunisment protocols if she wishes to preserve the slave's existence during this event."

I sighed. Despite her girly cuteness, Locutus was right, the bitch was well past fifty. My superiors wouldn't be happy if I didn't deliver the elder cutie intact. I gulped, they might stuff me in the Slave Foam!

I said "Locutus, suspend Autopunisment protocols for this slave." The cybernetic old guy simply said "Done, Mistress Gomez." Before disappearing from my sight.

I wanted a few more seconds to assess our situation, but I wasn't going to get it. A disruptor blast hit the alley wall a foot from my face. I yelled at DATT "Run, follow Mistress!"

I ran, my wrapped up Asian cutie struggling to keep up with me. Luckily, the shuttle was in a vacant lot a few blocks away.

Still it feels like an eternity, and my much older slave starts to flag. Despite all she's done, I really feel for the poor little thing, this has to be horrible for her! But there's no time for that now. I shout at her "Hurry up, you fucking worthless puta, move your sorry traitor ass!"

Poor DATT. She's really trying. I'm glad I disabled her autopunisments, Locutus is right, I probably would have killed the frightened old girl shouting at her and berating her.

I automatically engaged the shuttles boarding ramp from my personal comm. Home free, I run up the ramp. DATT is still running in my original direction as I turn right and run up the ramp. It's not her fault, her AI trainer isn't giving her enough attitude to think and move. But we have no time and I'm out of patience. I shout "DATT, you fucking retard, turn right, you fool, I swear, I'd freeze you for these asshole's target practice if I wasn't ordered to bring you in alive!" My girl immediately responds to her Mistress's command turning right and running towards the shuttle ramp.

Almost too late, I see the problem. I could have freed her arms to help her move more efficiently, resealing them at my whim. I didn't think to. Poor DATT had no choice but to try and run to her Mistress up the ramp, where the poor little granny slave would probably face plant.

I know what to do even though it's risky. She's already almost to the ramp, I pull out her nipple chains and clamps and run to my slave who's starting her fall.

I prop her up with my right, quickly slapping the clamps on her nipples with my left. I jerk the chains, I can steady my pretty little thrall and move her now. To motivate her I yell back "Move it, DATT, you sellout cunt! You want that cute little asian ass fried?" Even under the circumstances, her dutiful reply of "No Mistress." Makes me a little wet.

I shake myself, we're safe and headed for the rendezvous. I look back at my little slave's cute naked ass, forced by the foam to stare at the rear bulkhead. This is going to be so much fun!

Lieutenant Vaughn's perspective

Lieutenant Elias Vaughan, Starfleet Intelligence, from the year 2312, examined Captain Phillipa Georgiou's Section 31 detainee file with interest and trepidation.

The year was 2255, nineteen years before Elias was born. Growing up Elias had always wanted to be an explorer. His three heroes had been the Trail blazing Admiral Jonathan Archer, the misfit but legendary Captain James T. Kirk, and the self sacrificing, highly decorated hero, Captain Phillipa Georgiou.

He knew next year that Captain Georgiou died in hand to hand combat with a Klingon warlord, T'Kuvma, during the Battle Of The Binary Stars. The Captain had fought valiantly, but the petite, older Asian girl was simply no match for a strong young male Klingon Warrior.

He blushes a little recalling his adolescent fantasy of saving Captain Georgiou, he defeated T'Kuvma just before he landed the killing blow with his Mekleth, a Klingon dagger. The beautiful Captain had been so grateful to her young rescuer...she'd given him a hero's reward. What a fucking childish fantasy. He was embarrassed to remember it at a time like this.

Yet Ironically, now 38 year old Lieutenant Vaughn, Starfleet Intelligence, was in a position to save his childhood hero; whom was now literally a Damsel In Distress. And I'm the unlikely hero, thought Vaughn. He'd wanted to be an explorer, like his heros Archer, Kirk and Georgiou. Starfleet decided he was a gifted covert operator, so that's what they made him do, for the good of the Federation, of course.

He shook himself from his woolgathering. His priority was securing the Slave Foam, apparently designed by a brilliant, but dangerously shortsighted Orion scientist from the future. Captain Georgiou's life and reputation were important secondary considerations, but his superiors made it clear she was expendable if saving her got in the way of securing the foam.

He made a promise to himself as a man, not a boy. I will save Captain Georgiou and secure the Foam, I'm a Lieutenant on a first name basis with Captains, even a few Admirals. Legendary Special Ops agent Elias Vaughn will do it. His promise made him feel better about his role in the mission. But he couldn't help but wonder if Captain Georgiou was as pretty in person as she was in her holophotos...

https://www.reddit.com/r/BDSMerotica/comments/15oyhpx/the_rendition_of_captain_phillipa_georgiou/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=1 Part 1