Kirk VII


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Kirk walked back to his quarters, feeling shaken, the incident with Errol playing over and over in his mind.  The man’s hand on Kirk’s breast, his thigh, the unwanted kiss.  It made him shiver, and he hunched over, feeling self-conscious, vulnerable in his short dress, his long legs exposed, and the eyes of the men constantly caressing his figure.

Plunging into his quarters, he sighed with relief as the door wooshed shut, and he could finally relax, no longer feel embattled.  He sat down at his desk, knees together without even thinking about it, and tossed his long, blonde hair.  Who had done this to him?   He started to cycle through the names and faces, trying to figure out who had not only motive but means.  Nothing.

He checked his messages, he found orders to report to see Captain Finnegan that afternoon, as well as messages from Spock, McCoy, Uhura and Rand, all checking up on him to see how he was doing.  He realized he could still taste Errol, and he got up, disgusted.

How am I doing? He thought.  Terrible. He gargled some mouthwash, trying to get the taste of Errol out of his mouth.   Spit it out.  Gargled some more.  Then he thought he could smell Errol’s sweat on his body, and he didn’t know if this was all just female hysteria or not, but once the idea got into his mind he felt disgusted and dirty, so he took a quick shower, and then sprayed himself with some of his old cologne.  He felt like crying. Screaming.  How am I doing?  How do you think?

The only one he trusted to share his feminine struggles with was Rand.  They’d been… close before his change, and she’d been there helping him adjust to his new life even from the beginning.  The others, he needed them to continue to see him as the man he’d been, and would be again.

Should I ask Spock to help me investigate?  Kirk wondered.  The thought made him feel warm, and he imagined himself in Spock’s powerful arms, looking up into his–

No!  Kirk pushed the thought away.  He’d been struggling with his feelings for Spock, ever since, back on Rammerham, Spock had rescued him.


The warrior had carried Kirk to a cell and unceremoniously plunked him on the floor.  He sat there in his little red uniform, staring at the long, shapely legs spread out before him, the small, dainty hands, the full, heavy breasts.  He was stunned.  It all seemed impossible.

After a time, he got to his feet, standing unsteadily.  His whole body felt wrong.  His legs were too long, he had what felt like a mountain of hair piled on top of his head, and of course there was impossible weight of his chest.  He walked around his small cell, trying to get used to the feel of walking in this new body, in these boots, these clothes.  He found himself tugging constantly on the short dress.  He felt naked.

The cell wasn’t much.  A cot, a toilet, a sink.  Looking up, he saw a camera following him around the cell, and he imagined the guards, the men, ogling him, and he crossed his arms over the swelling of his soft, new chest.

What had happened?  Why had he transported down in this body?  He looked in the mirror, and quickly looked away.  The face he’d seen?  It was– beautiful. Feminine.  Young.  It shocked him to see her with her big,  wide eyes, and full lips, and to realize that kissable face was him.

Death.  The guard had told him the penalty for a woman to speak was death.

Well, how am I going to get out of this one?  He wondered.  And where was his crew?  He examined the bars, looked for any means of escape.  Found nothing. He lay on the cot, trying to pull his dress down, to keep his legs together, so the guards wouldn’t have anything to look at.  He’d never had to worry about it before, but he’d never worn a tiny little dress, either.  He decided he needed to think through the situation, wait for an opportunity to present itself.  Was it the stress?  The shock of finding himself in a new, female body?  He didn’t know, but he plunged into a deep, troubled sleep and only woke up when he heard a man bellow, “Wake up!”

Kirk snapped awake, initially confused by the weight of his breasts bouncing on his chest, the sight of his long, coltish legs, exposed by his dress.  Then it all started to come back to him, the slap, being taken prisoner.  He pushed a few strands of hair away from his face with his slender hands and sat on the edge of the cot, his knees together.

The man leered at Kirk, letting his eyes roam across his body.  Then, he met Kirk’s eyes and smiled, like a shark.

‘I am a Federation Officer,” Kirk started, wincing at the high-pitched sound of his voice.  He didn’t even sound like a woman, but a girl.

“Shut up! The man said “And listen to me if you want to live.”

“I want to talk to my ship,” Kirk continued.

“No,” the man said, setting his briefcase down, adjusting his suit.

“I have rights!”  Kirk had meant the words to come out forceful and commanding, but instead he had sounded like a teen girl about to have a hissy fit.  He cringed, putting his hands to his throat, feeling his breasts pressed together between his arms.

“You are a woman, and you have no rights on Rammerham,”  the man said.  “This isn’t your precious Federation, with all of your absurd notions of equality.  However, in the interest of avoiding an interplanetary crisis, I am here to offer you a deal that will save your life.  So, do you want to listen or do you want to die?  Nod or shake your head.  I think that is your custom?”

Kirk felt ashamed of his voice, and so he just nodded.  Besides, talk of the Federation reminded him he’d come here on a mission.  He needed to do what he could to salvage that operation, even if it meant he had to put the little issue of his sex change aside for the moment.

“Good girl,” the man said.  “So, here’s what’s going to happen.  You will called before Khan Rammerham.  He will sentence you to death.  You will beg for your life, and offer to join his harem and serve him as his slave girl.  It will help if you can cry.  He likes to play the hero.”

Harem?  Slave girl?  The words sounded impossible to Kirk’s ears.  He was a man.  Had been a man.  How could?  What?  “A slave girl?  Harem?  Me?”  He said softly, his eyes wide.

“Khan saw you on the video.  You’re sexy.  Got nice tits and a hot temper.  He likes this in his women. ”

The man picked up his briefcase and walked away, leaving Kirk there feeling more vulnerable and disrespected than he had ever felt in his life.   Slave girl?  A tight, strangulated laugh escaped from him.  It was all so insane.  Like the plot of an old 21st Century Fan Fiction.

No, he decided, shaking his head.  No.  If it came down to it, he would rather die than agree to join Khan Rammerham’s harem and- pleasure him.  The thought– revolted him. Sickened him.  A slave girl?  A harem girl?  How all of Star Fleet would laugh at that news.  No.  Jim Kirk was not meant for that end.

Where are you Spock?  Scotty?  He wondered.  I need you to get me out of this.  He lay on his side, fighting against a strange and powerful impulse to cry.  He pushed the feelings inside, refused to acknowledge them, and instead focused all his will on one thing: his impeding death.  He would not lose his nerve.  He would not agree to his own utter humiliation.

A short time later a group of women arrived, primping Kirk and dressing him for his trial.  They took his hair down, brushed it, made up his face and dressed him in traditional Rammerham female attire.  He just let them do what they wished, thinking the whole time about the trial, and how ashamed he would be to die as a woman, but that it would be better than to become another man’s pleasure slave.  It seemed an impossible sitation, but he would Kobayashi Maru it.

but this time, the Kobayashi Maru manuever would end in one death:  his own.






Kirk VII

Kirk VI

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Kirk woke up at the beginning of the first shift, the equivalent of morning on the Enterprise.  He pulled a sports bra over his head, struggling for a moment to get his breasts fitted into the cups, and then pulled on a pair of baggy sweat pants and a baggy sweat shirt, a pair of little trainers that look fit for a child but fit his tiny feet perfectly.  Then he tied his long hair back into a pony tail, just as he’d been taught to do when he’d been a slave girl.

Bounding out of his room, he ran to Rand’s quarters and knocked on the door.  She answered looking bleery and super un-excited.  “I hate you!”  She said.

“Come on!” Kirk chirped, running in place.  “You promised to run with me!”

“Ugh!”  But she came out of her room, and soon the two ran along the corridors of The Enterprise, making their way down to the rec room, where they climbed onto adjacent treadmills and started to run.

“This bra isn’t working either,” Jim Kirk said, looking down ruefully at his bouncing breasts.

“You have a lot of boobage,” Rand said.  “It’s going to bounce.  Get used to it, sister.”

“I think the girls are issuing me bouncy bras on purpose.”

“Why would they do that?”  Rand said.

“Because they think it’s funny to see a man have to deal with these puppies.”

“I think you’re paranoid,” Rand said.  “Believe me.  Big boobs bounce.  I should know.”

“I just wish these guys would stop staring at us.”  Kirk said, slitting his eyes at a guy who had stopped and stared, but the guy just smirk and kept looking.

Rand just shrugged.  “I’ve been putting up with it all–”

“I know.  I know.”  Kirk said, his little voice rising higher.  “It’s just part of being a woman.”

They ran for a solid thirty minutes, then went over to the juice bar and got smoothies.  Rand looked at the clock on the wall.  “I need to go get ready.  I have to report in a couple hours.  You mind?”

“Go.  I’ll be fine,” Kirk said.

Rand covered his hand with her own and gave it a squeeze.  “You sure?”


Rand got up, grabbed her ankle and stretched.  “What are you going to do all day since you don’t have a duty assignment right now?”

“I’m going to go down to engineering and investigate.  Scotty has the device that was patched into the transporter to make me– this.”

“But Star Fleet has their investigators looking into it,” Rand said.  “I’m sure they would have any clues.”

“I’m not.”

Rand jogged off.  Kirk slipped the straw into his mouth and slurped down the rest of his protein smoothie.  He saw a couple guys watching him with his lips wrapped around the straw, sucking, and they were whispering together.   Kirk knew what they were thinking, saying, and it made him feel gross and violated.  Again.  He couldn’t even drink a smoothie in public without guys imagining him performing sex acts.  It felt like he was always under attack, always being looked at and sexualized.  Was it like this for women?  Really?

He resisted the urge to make an obscene gesture.  He was still an officer, and he had to conduct himself accordingly.  But he didn’t know it he would ever drink from a straw in public again.  Or eat a banana.

“Scotty!”  He said as he entered engineering and saw the temperamental old Scotsman director some of his crew to position a hadron helix interpolater.


“Secure that good and then seal it,” Scotty said, then walked over to Jim, who had to crane his neck back to look up at the now taller man.  Scotty had met Jim’s eyes and kept his eyes up there, much to Kirk’s relief.  “How are you holding up?”  Scotty said.

“Fine,”  Kirk responded.  “I’ve been in tougher positions than this one and come out on top.”

‘Yes, you have.  What brings you to engineering?”

“I want to look at the evidence from the transporter sabotage.”

Scott considered. Shrugged.  “Be my guest.  I’m not sure there’s much there, though.  It mostly burned up.”

‘I’ll look just the same.”  Kirk said.

“This way,” Scotty said, gesturing toward a clean room.   Kirk walked ahead, and he felt Scotty looking at his rear.  Oh well, he thought.  Scotty did better than most.  They made their pleasantries and then Scotty opened up the evidence locker and left Kirk in the room alone.  Kirk hooked some loose hairs behind his ear and examined the melted circuits and wires under an enlarger.  He’d read the report previously, and as the report suggested he could see it was clearly alien tech.  The mineral composition, the way the circuits had been formed, the remains of a few inscribings all pointed to some alien civilization that had not been identified so far.

Kirk went back to the report.  After the sabotage, Scotty had found evidence of two unauthorized transports,  both several hours before Kirk beamed down and found himself a female.  The speculation was that some foreign agent had beamed onto the ship from a cloaked vessel, installed the alien tech to transform Kirk, and then beamed back to their own ship, escaping into deep space.

There was no way to track them or identify them, and the footage from the cameras that monitored the transporter room had been erased.   Who had done it and why might well remain a mystery forever, which was not James Kirk’s primary concern.  His main concern was this alien tech, and where to get some that would restore him to his own body.

Who would want to do this to him?  Who hated him enough to go to these elaborate means to turn him into a woman and strip him of his command?

He heard the door to the clean room hiss open and glanced back over his shoulder to see a young man entering–  “Petty Officer Errol?”  Kirk said, the name coming to him.

“Captain Kirk,”  Errol answered with a smile.  “You need any help.”

“Maybe,” Kirk said.  “Do you know the access codes for the recording from the transporter room?”

‘Sure do.”  Errol gestured.  “Come over here.”

Kirk got up and followed Errol over, and when they approached the view screen Errol put his hand on the small of Kirk’s back and led him forward.

Kirk stiffened, looking up at the man.  ‘Um, your hand?”

“Oh,” Errol said.  “So sorry.”  He pulled up the recordings, and Kirk leaned in to take a look.  Errol stood very close, so close Kirk could feel the heat coming off the man’s body.  He felt himself getting tense and nervous, but he didn’t want to seem like a –girl, so he just hooked his hair back and looked into the viewer, watching as the image of the empty room went black, and the fast forwarding until the image came on again.

Errol leaned down until his face was right next to Kirk’s.  “What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kirk answered,  He wished he could move away from the man, but he needed to be in front of the view finder.  He rewound the recording and watched it again.  Something was bothering him, but he didn’t know what.  “Something doesn’t feel right.  I don’t why, but I just feel it.”

“Women’s intuition,” Errol said.

Kirk gave him a dirty look. “This is not a good time,” he said, and then for some reason he smiled.  He didn’t know why, but he just hoped maybe if he smiled and was nice, this guy would leave him alone.  It didn’t work.  Errol’s eyes fell to the swell of Kirk’s breasts, then came back to his face.

“You’re a very beautiful woman,” Errol said.

“Um, I am not interested,” Kirk said, feeling his skin crawl.  “I’m really not.”

“Have you ever been with a man?”  Errol said.  “Maybe you’d like it.”

Kirk sighed and turned to face Errol, forced once more to look up into the man’s face.  Kirk hated being short.  “This is not the time, Petty offic– umph!”  Kirk’s eyes went wide with shock as Errol’s lips covered his, and he put his hands on Errol’s chest and pushed, but Errol was too big and strong, and Kirk found himself being pushed backward onto the control panel, locked in a kiss, as Errol grabbed one of his legs and lifted him off his feet, while using his other hand to paw at Jim Kirk’s breast.

Overcoming his shock, Kirk finally resorted to some of his combat training and managed to get a grip on Errol’s fingers and bent them back viciously, bringing out a cry of pain and sending the man to his knees.

“I am your superior officer!”  Kirk squealed angrily.  “What you just did is a punishable offense!”

“Sorry!”  Errol said, shaking his hand.  “It’s just that you are so hot.”

Kirk resisted the urge to Kick the man in the face.  I am an officer, he reminded himself.  “Go.” He said, crossing his arms over his breasts, his knees together.  “Go now, and I won’t report this.”

Errol got up and left.

Kirk felt– sick.  He hated that a man had just kissed him like that, had fondled him, and he hated that he was letting him get away with it.  But the truth was, he couldn’t report it.  Didn’t dare.  His reputation would be ruined if word got out that a crewman had kissed him, sexually harassed him, treated him like a– woman.  Like the woman he was.

I have to get out of this body, Kirk thought, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself, but his breasts heaving with each breath just brought back to him what he was now, what he’d become.  He tried to watch the tape again, but the incident was playing over and over in his mind.  Did I cause this?  He wondered.  “Did I give off some signal I’m not even aware of?”

He didn’t think so, but he couldn’t be sure, didn’t know what was expected of him now that he was a she.  I told him this was not a good time, he thought.  I told him i wasn’t– wait.

Not a good time.  He went back to the tape, to right before the screen went black.  There was the transporter room, with the time at the bottom left corner, and then it went black and– yes!   He scrolled it back, millisecond by millisecond.  And there it was.  He’d seen the time stamp flicker– just barely– that’s what he’d caught, but now, freezing it on one frame the saboteur had missed, he saw that the time stamped had been altered to make it look like whoever had beamed on board had gone into the system and erased the feed after they beamed onto the ship.

But this one frame, this one millisecond frame, proved that the video tampering had done before the alleged unauthorized transporter activity.  That meant that whoever had altered the video had already been on the ship.

And they probably still were.  Kirk smiled, adjusting his bra straps, tossing his ponytail.  They were on the ship.  And that meant he could find them, and he could force them to turn him back into a man.

And when he was a man again he would settled things with Errol in the boxing ring, fist to fist, and Errol would find out you don’t just kiss a girl whenever you feel like it because she just might punch you in the nose one day!

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Kirk VI

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James Kirk did not like the way his uniform fit.   As he looked at himself in the mirror, he turned to his side to examine his profile, turned back to face himself directly, then turned around and looked back over his shoulder.  He groaned, tugging at the hem of his little uniform, trying to pull it down lower on his thighs, but it was all futile.  The little red mini-dress hugged his now full breasts, and clung to his wide, round hips.

He couldn’t hide his figure, and boy did he ever want to.   He could even see the outline of his bra through the materiel, and when he let his eyes drift down to his long, coltish legs in the dark tights, and then the high boots that encased his rounded calves, he felt sick at the thought of walking out of his quarters and facing the crew like this, as a she, in this body.  With these breasts.  He shook his head, looking at them perched on his chest.

He was pretty sure the girls had issued him some kind of push-up bra that lifted them and made them seem even bigger than they were, presenting them to the world like an invitation. When they’d taken his measurements they’d teased him about his d-cups, promised him most of the women on the Enterprise would be jealous of his breasts.

Maybe, but he felt pretty sure the women were going to love the irony of seeing him, the playboy captain, now with an hourglass figure, and forced to wear the same demeaning uniform as a woman.  How many of them had he flirted with, hit on, and now he was as pretty as any of them, and they had to laugh when they saw him.  He knew it.

As for the men?  He knew what they would be thinking when they saw this body.  He turned to the side again, looking at his curves, the way his behind swayed and rose, so inviting, and the way his breasts hovered in front of him.   He shivered at the thought of the men checking him out, looking over his shape, the same way he used to do when he was still a man.

I am a man, he thought, tugging on the hem of his dress again.  I will always be a man.  I don’t care what body I find myself in, what uniform the Federation makes me wear. I. Am. A. Man!  He felt the bra straps digging into his shoulders, the weight of them heavy in the cups of his bra, and he became aware of the tightness of his dress, the feeling of the tights on his smoothly shaven legs.  His head spun.   Could he still be a man with this tiny waist?  These small arms?

But I am, and I always will be.  The intercom buzzed, and Spock’s voice called out, “Captain?”

“Captain here,” Kirk responded, his new voice sounding like a little girl’s, especially compared to Spock’s deep tones.  Kirk grimaced, hating the way he sound, wondering why his body had to be so extremely womanly, so intensely feminine.  But, of course, that had been no accident.

“I just thought it prudent to remind you that your hearing begins in ten minutes.”

“I am aware,” Kirk answered, annoyed that he sounded to his own ears like a petulant child.   He searched for the right placement, the right tone. “I mean, I know.”

“It would not look good if you were late to your hearing.  There is a belief among human males that one of the qualities of a female is the need to take a very long time to get ready.”

That’s because it does take longer for us to get ready, Kirk thought, hooking his hair behind his ear.  He realized he’d just thought of himself as a woman, but he pushed the thought away.  “I’m leaving now.”

Over on the counter in front of his bathroom mirror he saw a selection of cosmetics he’d been issued been issued along with his new uniform: mascara, blush, lipstick, nail polish.   He’d insisted he didn’t need them, but the girls had placed them in his basket anyway, insisting it was regulations.

There was no regulation requiring him to actually use them, to paint his face.  It would be hard enough to get the High Command to take him seriously dressed like a waitress, he thought, let alone if he painted his face just like some girl.

And yet the woman on his ship had always worn make-up, had felt pressured to wear it even when it was impractical for their jobs.  Had he been part of that?  He’d never said so. never told any of them they they had to make themselves pretty, but had it been in his attitude?  Had they known he valued them based on their attractiveness and felt the only way to get ahead was to be pretty?

He’d think about it later.  Once more tugging on the hem of his little dress, Kirk bounded out of his quarters, quickly measuring his steps to keep his breasts from bouncing, and then he did his best to assume the air of command he’d honed for all these years, to walk and compose himself in a way to say– I am still Jim Kirk.  I am still your Captain.

As the cool air of the deck washed over him, and his nerves jangled at the thought of his upcoming hearing, he felt his nipples getting tight and hard, pushing at the stiff cups of his bra.   He got on the elevator and took a position between two security officers, each of whom now towered over him, making him feel that sensation that he was a child once more.  He didn’t wan to re-enforce it by speaking, but he had to, and so he said, “Gentleman” and tried not to wince at the pretty little voice that came out of him.

“Sir,” the officers responded.

Sir.  Kirk felt good to hear that word.  Sir.  He was still Captain James Kirk.

And then he sensed it, the eyes of the security officer falling to his behind, burning a whole in it.  He wanted to say something, to reprimand the man, but his body tensed up, and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything, because he didn’t want to acknowledge that he was a woman, and that he was being mentally undressed by a man, and that it made him feel– scared.


Okay.  Just a little fanfic interlude I had intended as a paragraph, but which turned out longer.  Anyway, as we pass from the holiday season into the New Year, I am publicly pledging to write more often!!!!!  I think for a blog to be vital and useful to the reader, it has to be updated regularly, and look for that to happen!  Including with some awesome fan fiction!!!!

I am seriously thinking about doing a Rey is Darth Vader series.  What say you?





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