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Date Posted: 02:43:55 01/03/05 Mon
Author: Crazy bastard
Subject: Crazy stuff

Worf knew the Romulan vessel was out there. The abnormal, periodic phase anomalies appearing on his short range sensors made that clear enough. But the Federation had never before encountered this new-technology cloaking device, and not knowing its precise energy signature, he couldn't pinpoint the intruder. For better than a week, the Romulan had been exploiting its unparalleled stealth to ravage Federation outposts in this sector. Its exploits were a repeat of a daring intrusion of some three centuries ago that had ultimately been foiled by a starship with the same name as the one on which he now served.

Worf also knew that he had to relieve himself, and that the need was urgent and severe. But duty called, and he forced himself to focus on the search at hand. There! Subspace flickered again and he locked in the coordinates of the disturbance.

"Captain! I believe I have him. 168.422 mark 6, at 5,200 kilometers!"

"Very good, Worf. Data! Take us in, slowly. Shields," Picard snapped.

Sensing he had a few minutes before they closed on the predicted position of the enemy warbird, Worf decided to request a moment's leave.

"Captain. Requesting permission to leave the bridge for a few moments."

"Are you daft man? At a time like this? Permission denied! I need you at that scanner."

Feeling the pressure in his lower intestine building quickly, he approached Picard and lowered his voice.

"Captain, I need to have a bowel movement."

A smirk flashed across Picard's face before he replied flatly, "Hold it man. We have more important matters at hand. Return to your station."

But Worf protested. "Captain, need I remind you that we Klingons only move our bowels once a month? When the time comes, I assure you, the matter must be addressed. Even a routine Klingon BM makes one of your so-called Earth "power dumps" pale in comparison, and you don't want me releasing one on the bridge, trust me."

"Commander, I appreciate your needs, but those of the ship come first. Return to your post and find that Romulan. I'll see what I can do." An idea began to form in Picard's mind.

-----

Far from the bridge, the off-duty Deanna Troi was making her way towards the quarters of her lover, First Officer William Riker. Arranging time together was not always easy for the two busy Enterprise officers, and she had looked forward to this meeting for three days now. Her mind tried to picture in what stage of dress Riker would be waiting as she passed through the final corridor separating her from his room.

-----

On the bridge, things were growing tense. "Captain! I must go now! I urge you! If you don't allow me to go, it will be far worse than anything that Romulan could possibly do to us!"

"Relax Mr. Worf. I believe I have a solution. Just keep your eyes on that scanner. Transporter room!"

"Transporter room here, Captain."

"Beam the contents of Commander Worf's lower intestine into the ship's septic recycling processors immediately."

"Captain, I'm not sure I understand..."

"You heard me, mister, and it's urgent!"

"Uh..yes Captain. It will take some very precise lock-on work, but I think I can do it."

"Make it so! Commander Worf, as you were."

Though his sphincter was ready to blow, the Captain's unorthodox solution brought a sense of calm over Worf. Confident his trouble was soon to be over, he again focused his attention to the scanner readout in front of him...and was stunned by what he saw.

"Captain! The Romulan! He's dead ahead sir and de-cloaking!"

"I have a visual now!" reported Data.

All eyes on the bridge turned to the main screen. The Bird of Prey was visible for just a brief moment before its silhouette was concealed by a huge plasma torpedo fired at the Enterprise from point-blank range. "Evasive action" barked Picard, but he knew the torpedo was far too close even as he gave the order. He white-knuckled his chair and braced for the inevitable impact.

Simultaneously, a calm voice announced from the PA, "Energizing now, Mr. Worf."

The Klingon felt the familiar tingle of the transporter in his gut, and a wave of relief swept over him just as the plasma torpedo slammed into Enterprise's shields. The Federation made up for what it lacked in cloaking technology with superb defensive systems, and the ship's shields almost managed to dispel all of the Romulan weapon's energy. What made it through was not enough to cause physical damage to Enterprise, but it did wreak havoc on the ship's computer and control systems.

In Transporter Room #3, a very-surprised Ensign O'Malley's display flickered twice from the sudden energy surge before coming back to life. But where his monitor had previously shown the destination coordinates of his most unusual transport cargo, it now showed nothing but a random jumble of characters. "Transporter room to Bridge! Captain! I'm not sure what just happened, but we've suffered some kind of unusual transporter malfunction and I'm not sure where Worf's...uh...that stuff went. I'm running diagnostics and resetting now, sir."

"Alright transporter room. Carry on." The initial confusion on the bridge following the torpedo hit had settled down, and a concerned Picard now turned his attention to Worf. "Mr. Worf, are you alright?"

The now light-on-his-feet Klingon was beaming. "I feel great Captain! Thank you. Now let me find that Romulan!"

-----

The door to Riker's quarters had just come into view when Deanna felt the Enterprise shift slightly under her feet, followed by a flickering of the corridor lights. "I wonder what the heck that was?" she thought as she stopped in front of his door and prepared to press the call button. But her hand stopped just short of the buzzer when she was startled to hear, and then feel, the energy hum of a transporter. Before she had time to think or react, she felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach...from inside her body. Her lower torso was overcome by a horrible sensation of pressure and weight, and she collapsed onto the deck. "Wi...Will!"

Wearing only his briefs, William Riker was in a lounger sipping a fine single-malt scotch and waiting for his lover to arrive. But her sudden and obviously pained cry from outside his door shocked him into a different frame of mind altogether. He rushed to the door and opened it. Crumpled on the floor of the corridor, Deanna looked up at him with a grimace and through pursed lips said "I can't hold it...can't..."

"Can't hold what? What's wrong Deanna?!" He helped Troi to her feet and led her into his quarters, sealing the door behind them. "Are you okay?"

"No...my stomach...uhh," she mumbled, bracing herself with one hand on Riker's shoulder, and then punctuating the sentence with a loud, wet fart that went on and on and on. Utterly stunned by her flatulence, Riker gazed at her face with a half-smile on his own, thinking it was perhaps some kind of a joke. She had never done that in his presence before. "Deanna! That was quite impressive, but..."

"I feel terrible, something's wrong with my gut...maybe you should call Dr. Crusher.....oh no....oh my god...oh ****!!" Her sudden profanity stunned him much less than what happened next.

The sudden pressure caused by a month's worth of Klingon fecal matter in Deanna Troi's colon was far more than she could possibly withstand. What little control she initially had was now gone, and her anus flared wide. She let out a soft moan as poop began to gush into her underwear. The soft, wet sounds coming from under Deanna's skirt could only mean one thing, but Riker was frozen with disbelief. "Deanna couldn't possibly be...in my quarters?" he thought. After a few moments, he allowed himself to gently pull up the back of her skirt. A grapefruit-sized lump was bulging out from between the cheeks of her butt, pressing out her panties and underwear, and it was growing as he watched it. Red-faced, Deanna was bearing down hard. After a few moments, she would take a breath, and then began pressing again with renewed energy. Her underwear grew relentlessly. Riker's gaze was riveted, and he felt his manhood harden as he absorbed what had to be the most incredible display of incontinence he could possibly imagine.

As Deanna pumped more and more waste was into her underwear, they were no longer simply bulging at the seat, but now ballooned out in all directions, like the pantaloons of a court jester. Her bowels now partially empty, Deanna was feeling much better, and the flow of warm, soft poo over her sex was also helping to calm her nerves. Both Riker and Troi were subconsciously amazed at the superb elasticity and containment capacity of 23rd century underwear, though neither of them said anything.

In another minute, the expulsion was over. Deanna wiped the sweat from her brow and gazed into Riker's eyes. "I...I feel much better now. Uh...can I borrow your bathroom?"

Riker's quick, sharp "No" surprised both of them. He was hard, hot and horny now, and all he wanted to do was take this woman. Wrapping one arm around her back, his other hand went to the front of her bulged underpants and pressed firmly. His hand squished into the soft putty, forcing a river of it to flow once again over her genitals as it raced between her legs. She moaned from the stimulation. She was mortified at what she had done, and even more shocked that it was giving her sexual pleasure. But her own desire now took hold of her conscious self, and she gave into him completely.

Kissing her wildly, his hands now kneaded her bulging underwear from both sides. She brought her own hands to his crotch and lowered his zipper, beginning a job of her own. The contents of her panties shifted and gurgled under Riker's attack. Now, breaking the kiss, he guided the two of them to the floor. Riker lay face-up, and Deanna straddled him on her knees, with her face in his groin and her huge, bulging rear in front of his face. They wasted no time...

-----

Fifteen minutes later on the bridge, Worf was gloating with pride. His well-placed phaser blast had accurately predicted where the Romulan would appear next, based on analysis of its movement patterns provided by Data. Completely disabled and without power for weapons or shields, the Romulan was transmitting its surrender terms to Enterprise.

"Transporter room to Captain Picard"

"Picard here"

"Captain, I've completed the system restart, and transporters are back on line. And I think I've managed to track down where that stray...cargo went to."

"Very good," snickered Picard, "Stand by. I'll have some new coordinates for that load coming up shortly."

-----

In Riker's quarters, the two of them lay side by side on the floor, still panting, and still fully clothed. Not even the superb fabric polymers of the 23rd century had been able to withstand Riker's fierce hand assault on Troi's pelvic area, and the two of them were now one big, brown mess. "My god", panted Deanna,"how are we going to clean all this up?"

"I don't have any idea, but maybe we should try that one more time before we do!"

"Yeah, but there isn't enough left in my panties to..."

Once again, Deanna was stopped short by the hum of a transporter that tickled and tingled her as its powerful beam energized only selected molecules around her and on Riker. In moments, the two of them were utterly clean, as if nothing had ever happened.

-----

On board the Romulan vessel, the ship's captain was surprised and puzzled. He was not at all familiar with the funny humming sound that was now growing in strength directly over his head...

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