Day 6: Fully Clothed Sex/Induced Heat (Mariner/T'Lyn)

Day 6: Fully Clothed Sex/Induced Heat (Mariner/T'Lyn)

The away mission to the barren planet had been standard procedure—scouting, securing samples, and making sure nothing unexpected was lurking in the atmosphere. Everything had gone smoothly, until, in classic Cerritos fashion, things went sideways.

Beckett Mariner leaned heavily against the console of the shuttle, her body trembling, sweat beading on her forehead. Her uniform stuck to her like a second skin, her fingers clutching the edge of the panel as a wave of intense heat surged through her. She'd been fine a few minutes ago—maybe a little bored, ready to joke around with Boimler about their next ridiculous assignment—but now, all she could think about was the relentless fire burning inside her.

T'lyn, her Vulcan companion on this mission, stood at the far end of the shuttle, her back straight, her posture as composed as ever. Her sharp eyes flicked over Mariner, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Lieutenant Mariner," T'lyn said, her voice calm and steady. "Your behavior has become erratic. Are you experiencing discomfort?"

"Discomfort?" Mariner muttered through gritted teeth, her voice breathy and strained. "You could say that..."

She doubled over slightly, her breath catching as another surge of heat tore through her. The mission, the planet, whatever had triggered this—none of it mattered right now. Her mind was clouded with one overwhelming thought: she needed relief. The kind of relief that was entirely inappropriate in the middle of an away mission.

T'lyn took a step closer, her brow furrowing slightly in that subtle Vulcan way, betraying a sliver of concern beneath her usual stoicism. "What is the nature of this... ailment?" she asked, her tone clinical, as though she were diagnosing a malfunctioning tricorder.

"I don't know!" Mariner groaned, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but her body refused to cooperate. "Something... from the planet, I think. I feel... God, I feel like I'm burning up." She tugged at her uniform collar, as if loosening it might somehow alleviate the unbearable heat spreading through her.

T'lyn's expression didn't change, but Mariner could see the gears turning in her mind. She was assessing the situation, calculating the best course of action in her logical, methodical way. But there was no logic that could fix what Mariner was feeling right now.

"It is possible," T'lyn began, her voice steady as always, "that you have been exposed to a pheromone or substance that has triggered an... inappropriate hormonal response."

"Inappropriate?" Mariner let out a strained laugh, half delirious from the intensity of her arousal. "Yeah, that's one way to put it."

T'lyn took another step forward, her gaze unwavering as she observed Mariner's increasingly erratic behavior. "If this is a result of exposure, we must find a way to mitigate the effects. Vulcan meditation techniques can assist in controlling—"

"Yeah, T'lyn, I don't think meditation is gonna do it for me right now," Mariner cut her off, her voice tight with desperation. "I need... I need something else."

T'lyn raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she took in Mariner's words. "What do you propose?"

Mariner hesitated, her body trembling as another wave of arousal washed over her. She didn't want to say it—didn't want to admit just how bad it had gotten—but there was no way around it. She needed help, and T'lyn was the only one there.

"I need you to help me," Mariner said quietly, her voice strained but serious. "I'm... I'm so fucking turned on right now, and it's not going away. I don't know what that planet did to me, but I can't... I can't deal with this on my own."

T'lyn remained silent for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Mariner half-expected her to launch into a lecture about professionalism, or maybe suggest contacting the ship for medical intervention. But instead, T'lyn's gaze remained steady, her posture calm as ever.

"It is highly illogical," T'lyn began, her voice betraying no emotion, "to allow you to suffer unnecessarily if a solution is within reach. However, as a Vulcan, I am not accustomed to engaging in... human methods of resolving such situations."

Mariner's head snapped up, her heart pounding in her chest. Was T'lyn actually suggesting what she thought she was suggesting? "Wait, are you saying...?"

"I am offering to assist," T'lyn said plainly, as though this were just another routine mission detail. "If physical contact is required to alleviate the symptoms, then it is logical to provide it."

Mariner blinked, her mind struggling to process the fact that T'lyn—a Vulcan, of all people—was offering to help her through this. Sure, it was all wrapped up in logical, clinical language, but the reality of the situation was clear. T'lyn was willing to help her get through the overwhelming desire that had taken over her body.

"Well, uh... okay then," Mariner stammered, her body already reacting to the idea of T'lyn touching her. "But just so we're clear... I'm keeping my uniform on."

"As am I," T'lyn replied calmly, as though this were an obvious detail.

Mariner's pulse quickened, the idea of T'lyn touching her—fully clothed, controlled, and composed—sending a fresh wave of arousal through her already fevered mind. It was almost too much to bear.

T'lyn stepped closer, her expression still neutral, her posture straight and purposeful. "If we proceed," she said, her voice steady, "you must guide me through the appropriate actions. I lack experience in... this realm of human interaction."

Mariner let out a shaky breath, her body trembling with a mix of desperation and excitement. "Don't worry," she muttered, her voice rough with need. "I'll guide you."

T'lyn reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Mariner's arm, and even through the fabric of her uniform, the touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. Mariner's breath hitched, her body responding immediately to the contact, and she felt her knees weaken.

"It is imperative," T'lyn said, her voice low and calm, "that we approach this with precision. If this will alleviate your condition, then I must understand the correct... procedure."

Mariner groaned, her body aching with need as T'lyn's fingers moved deliberately, tracing up her arm, slow and methodical. "Yeah," Mariner breathed, her eyes half-closed as she leaned into the touch. "Just... keep doing that."

T'lyn's touch was careful, deliberate, as though she were learning as she went. Her fingers traced over Mariner's arm, moving to her shoulder, then down to her side. The sensation of T'lyn's hand moving over her body, even through the fabric of her uniform, was enough to send Mariner's already heightened senses into overdrive.

Mariner leaned back against the console, her hands gripping the edge as she tried to steady herself, her body on fire with the need for more. "T'lyn..." she muttered, her voice rough with desire. "Touch me. Everywhere."

T'lyn's hand paused for only a moment before continuing its slow exploration. Her movements were precise, careful, as though she were analyzing Mariner's reactions, cataloging the way her body responded. Mariner could feel the heat radiating between them, the tension thick in the air as T'lyn's fingers trailed lower, tracing over the fabric of her uniform with a calculated pressure.

Mariner's body trembled under T'lyn's touch, the desperation building inside her as her need grew more unbearable with every passing second. The fact that they were both still fully clothed only heightened the intensity, the friction of fabric against her skin driving her wild.

"You're doing... good," Mariner muttered, her voice breathy and strained. "Just... keep going."

T'lyn's expression remained neutral, her focus entirely on the task at hand as she continued to touch Mariner, her movements slow and deliberate. Her fingers grazed Mariner's hips, moving with the same calm precision that T'lyn applied to everything she did.

Mariner bit her lip, her body arching into T'lyn's touch, desperate for more. She could feel the tension building inside her, the fire in her veins reaching a boiling point as T'lyn's hands moved lower, tracing over her thighs, her legs, her every curve still hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

"Please..." Mariner whispered, her voice cracking with need. "I need more."

T'lyn's hand paused at Mariner's waist for a moment, as if processing the request. Her expression remained calm, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or simply the Vulcan's calculated precision coming to the fore. Without a word, T'lyn's hand slid lower, her fingers grazing over the fabric of Mariner's pants with slow, deliberate movements.

Her touch lingered at the apex of Mariner's thighs, and even through the layers of her uniform, Mariner could feel the heat of T'lyn's hand. The pressure sent a wave of pleasure rippling through her, making her legs quiver. But it wasn't enough—not nearly enough.

"Here?" T'lyn asked, her voice steady and clinical, as though she were verifying the location of an engineering component. Her fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing over the fabric of Mariner's pants, right where her clit was throbbing beneath. "Is this where your clitoris is located?"

Mariner let out a choked laugh, her hips instinctively pressing into the touch. "Yeah," she groaned, her breath catching in her throat as the pleasure hit her like a shockwave. "That's it. Just... keep doing that."

T'lyn raised an eyebrow, her expression still neutral as she applied more pressure, her fingers moving in slow, steady circles over the fabric. "The clitoris is a highly sensitive organ in human females," T'lyn said, her tone clinical, as though she were reciting from a medical textbook. "It is the primary source of sexual pleasure for many women, and stimulating it can induce arousal and orgasm."

Mariner's body trembled under T'lyn's touch, the combination of the Vulcan's precise, methodical movements and her clinical explanation making the whole experience surreal. The heat building inside her was becoming unbearable, and the fact that T'lyn was speaking about it as though she were conducting an experiment only heightened the intensity.

Mariner let out a soft whimper, her hips grinding against T'lyn's hand as the pressure built. "Why do you... know all that?" she asked breathlessly, her body straining for more.

T'lyn's fingers continued their steady rhythm, rubbing against Mariner's clit through her clothes with a detached precision that sent shivers down her spine. "I am familiar with human anatomy," T'lyn replied calmly, her voice unwavering. "It is logical to study the physiology of the species one interacts with regularly. Human women, in particular, experience sexual pleasure in distinct ways."

Mariner's breath hitched, the sensation of T'lyn's fingers pressing against her clothed clit driving her closer and closer to the edge. "You... you studied how to make human women come?" she gasped, her mind reeling at the idea.

T'lyn tilted her head slightly, her hand never faltering as she continued to stimulate Mariner with calm precision. "I studied human sexual behavior to understand how it differs from Vulcan practices," she said matter-of-factly. "It is a subject that has been documented extensively. Vulcans do not engage in sexual activity with the same frequency or for the same purposes as humans."

Mariner groaned, her body arching off the console as T'lyn's words, combined with the unrelenting pressure on her clit, sent her spiraling. "You're... making this sound so... technical," she muttered, though there was no real complaint in her voice. The heat building inside her, the overwhelming need for release, made it impossible to focus on anything but the pleasure coursing through her.

T'lyn's fingers pressed harder, her movements still slow and measured as she observed Mariner's reactions. "I am providing you with the necessary stimulation," she said evenly. "It is important to understand the physiological response. If you require adjustments to the technique, you must inform me."

Mariner's eyes squeezed shut, her body trembling with the tension that was rapidly building to a breaking point. "No," she gasped, her hips grinding harder against T'lyn's hand. "Don't change anything. You're... you're doing great."

T'lyn raised an eyebrow, her fingers continuing their steady motion, pressing firmly against the fabric of Mariner's pants, rubbing her clit with the same clinical precision she applied to any other task. "Noted," she said simply, her voice steady despite the intimate nature of their actions.

Mariner could barely think straight anymore. The fire burning inside her was consuming every thought, every sensation, until all that was left was the overwhelming need for release. The fact that they were both still fully clothed, that T'lyn was speaking so dispassionately about the very thing that was driving Mariner wild, only added to the intensity of the moment.

Her body moved instinctively, her hips grinding against T'lyn's hand as the tension inside her built to a fever pitch. The friction of her uniform, the heat radiating between them, the steady pressure on her clit—it was all too much.

"T'Lyn... I'm close," Mariner panted, her voice breathless and strained. She could feel the edge approaching, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her, ready to snap at any moment.

T'lyn's fingers pressed harder, her movements precise and unyielding. "Understood," she replied calmly. "Continue to focus on the stimulation. The goal is to reach orgasm, correct?"

Mariner let out a strangled laugh, her body trembling with the intensity of the moment. "Yeah," she gasped, her voice breaking as she rode the wave of pleasure. "That's... that's the goal."

T'lyn's fingers moved in perfect rhythm, her touch firm and steady as she guided Mariner toward the release she so desperately needed. The pressure on her clit, even through her uniform, was enough to drive Mariner to the brink.

And then, with a sharp cry, the tension inside her snapped.

Mariner's body convulsed, her muscles locking up as the orgasm tore through her, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her in quick succession. Her hips bucked against T'lyn's hand, her legs trembling as the intensity of the release left her gasping for air. The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Mariner could feel every nerve in her body lighting up like a live wire.

T'lyn remained steady, her fingers continuing their slow, deliberate motion as she observed Mariner's reactions with calm detachment. "It appears you have achieved the desired outcome," she said evenly, her voice betraying no emotion as she watched Mariner ride out the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Mariner slumped back against the console, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her body felt like it had been set on fire and then doused in cold water, the intensity of the experience leaving her utterly spent.

"T'lyn..." Mariner muttered weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You... really know how to... help a girl out."

T'lyn tilted her head slightly, her fingers finally stilling as she pulled back. "I merely applied the necessary pressure to the correct area," she said simply. "It was a logical solution to the problem you presented."

Mariner let out a breathless laugh, her body still buzzing with the remnants of her release. "Yeah, well... logical or not, that was... intense."

T'lyn straightened up, her posture as composed as ever, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something almost like satisfaction, though it was hard to tell with a Vulcan. "I am pleased to have been of assistance," she said evenly, her voice as calm and measured as always.

Mariner chuckled softly, still trying to catch her breath. "T'lyn," she muttered, a lazy grin spreading across her face, "you're full of surprises."