This story contains themes of Female Domination, Male Submission and lots of Clothed Females with Naked Males.

The following takes place on a newly commissioned Kelvin class survey vessel in the year 2233.  Many of the named characters already exist in the Star Trek universe but their timelines and locations have been federated onto this ship for thematic convenience.  Enjoy.

Boarding

The familiar looking interior of a federation starship bustles with activity as the boarding crew attempts to transfer and prepare the ships equipment but the inexperience is evident for all to see. A lost looking young ensign is approached by a mature female lieutenant who asks his name and then checks some notes before redirecting him down one of the possible corridors. A little embarrassed, he thanks her and hurries off.  The helpful lieutenant watches him go, her eyes dropping to his pert bottom as the wrinkles around her smiling lips and eyes grow.

Over the internal speakers the voice of captain Janeway welcomes aboard the new crew to the USS Germaine Greer for its inaugural mission. She vaguely alludes to their mission's objectives being scientific but also social and cultural in nature. Then informs everyone that more details will be provided once they’re underway.

Hours later the vessel glides out of spacedock and warps into the darkness.

“Should we strip them now, captain?” asks Seven of Nine, failing to elicit any reaction from the all female bridge crew despite the unusual nature of her statement

“No. There’s no rush. I’ll give the order after we’ve entered the nebula. Let's have a few weeks to settle in and get to know each other first. I think the officers might like the time to build a little anticipation too, I know we’re all very excited about our mission.” replies captain Janeway.

At the helm and tactical consoles lieutenants Ortegas and Laren pretending not to listen but turned slightly to look at each other and share a smile along with a discreet hand gesture.

“Yes captain, I'm sure I can make good use of the additional time. Do you know if any of the ensigns have discovered the details of our mission yet captain?  Or can we be assured those remain exclusively with the female command staff?”.

“That’s correct Seven. It’s easy enough to keep a junior ensign in the dark. But as a precaution I’m having all of their communications monitored by security and nothing has been flagged so far. Other than a few chauvinistic comments in some private messages.”

Again the two women operating the helm and tactical stations shared a look, this time expressing with some glee “Oh dear, someone going to get it”.

“If I may captain, I’d like the names of those ensigns. I have a special duties program I’ve been working on and I wouldn’t want to assign anyone that didn’t fully deserve it.”

“I’m intrigued Seven. But please remember we do have 5 years, don’t go too hard on them too soon. Speaking of which, it's time to let them in on the bad news. Well the first lot of bad news.”

The Mission

In Janeway’s ready room the captain takes a seat with a fresh cup of coffee then presses a button on the desk terminal.

“Crew of the USS Germaine Greer, this is your captain speaking. I can now inform you that our inaugural mission will be the complete mapping of the Dominatus Feminam nebula. Those of you who studied astronavigation will know the unusual composition of the nebula prevents all communications, so we’ll be cut off from Starfleet and everyone else for the duration of our mission.”

In the corridors of the ship nervous young ensigns listen to the broadcast. Looking around they take comfort from the faces of their female colleagues since not one officer is showing any signs of concern about the mission. Some even seem to be suppressing their excitement.

“The ability to operate independently of Starfleet oversight is one of the reasons I was chosen for this mission having commanded alone in the delta quadrant. The other reason I was chosen fit’s the second requirement of our mission, I’m a woman. No doubt by now you’ve noticed the gender demographics of our crew hierarchy is somewhat bias. This is by design. Our mission will also be used to study the possible benefits of an exclusively female command staff, who will be on top of a solely male rank of ensigns. This idea was proposed by admirals Hook and B Anothony, they both believe this new structure could be the future of Starfleet and I’m intending to prove them right. Everyone of you, officer and ensign, has been carefully selected with that in mind. So let's get to it.”

The terminal screen on Janeway's desk automatically flips through personnel records, displaying photos and selecting pertinent text to enlarging. An ensign is shown in his underwear along with a comment “lacks confidence or leadership potential” before flipping to a senior engineer “talented but overly assertive and prone to humiliating her subordinates.”

The captain nodded at the contents of the familiar files and couldn’t help saying out loud to the empty room “Yes, a perfectly selected crew”.

Crew Review

Two weeks later, in the captain's briefing room Janeway sat at the head of the table taking status reports from each of her senior officers.

The doctor explained that she’d updated the personal records of each ensign with their masturbation habits, something that wasn’t possible until they were under observation on the ship by hidden cameras and device monitoring.

“It’s added great value to their psychological profiles now that we know what sexually excites them and the size of their labido’s.” concluded doctor Crusher.

“Very good doctor and their erect penis sizes” asks the captain with an optimistic tone as if she was checking on the status of a warp nacelle repair.

“Well it’s not something Starfleet had considered appropriate to record in their medical records” says Beverly, causing some light laugher from the group “But now that we’ve had an opportunity to collect the data I think you’ll all be pleased with the results”.

The group swivel their chairs towards the large view screen now displaying two bell curve graphs labelled “length” and “diameter” with a vertical red line indicating the average male size. Both graphs showed a bulge well above the average size, causing the assembled ladies to express their relief and a few lewd jokes.

“Okay that's enough, thank you. That’s wonderful news doctor.”

“Now that we know everyone will be well provisioned for the mission ahead we should look at the stand out cases.”

“Yes captain, we have 22 ensigns and 4 acting ensigns who met or exceeded your alpha-one size requirement. If you’d allow me captain, I have some examples.”

“Well I’m a fan of graphs and numbers as much as the next girl, but I’m sure we’d all enjoy seeing some of the hard evidence behind them. Proceed doctor”

The view screen graphs are replaced with a tiled grid of video clips, each playing on a continuous loop above a person's name. Each one showing a recorded masturbation session, mostly in the shower cubicles but a few captured in bunk spaces. The position and angle of the cameras indicating their existence was clearly unknown to the person performing for them.

In silence the women watched the screens focused on each self stimulation session in turn, observing how they prefer to touch themselves, where and how as if they were analysing a tactical briefing. They mentally ranked their favourites along with their names for future reference. After several minutes the silence was broken.

“How long until we reach the nebula?” asks Kira, a slight breathlessness to her words.

“At our current course and speed, 17 days and 9 hours” answers Seven of Nine.

“Seven.”

“Yes captain?”

“Increase our speed.”

Under the advice of counsellor Troi the improved medical records for all ensigns and acting ensigns were shared with the other officers.  As expected the material provided an immediate boost to morale and served to heighten their anticipation for the coming mission even more.  Although it did cause some problems too.  Eventually captain Janeway had to intervene and communicate discreetly to all officers that the masturbation patterns should not be used as a means to predict and “accidentally” interrupt favoured crewmen in the act.  Despite how exciting and fun their terrified and ashamed reactions might be to enjoy.  Grudgingly the ladies accepted the order.   

Uniform Modelling

At the weekly senior officers meeting Seven of Nine suggested a change to their plans.

“Captain. I would like to propose an adjustment to our original timeline for the ensigns. I believe the complete removal of their clothes soon after entering the nebula would be a mistake. Despite their psychological profiles indicating a high probability of success I think we’d be better served moving them more gradually. Much like the proverbial frog, we can achieve our goals if we heat them slowly.”

“As an alternative first step to full nudity what did you have in mind?” asks the captain.

“I have prepared a demonstration Captain. With your permission?”

“Proceed Seven.”

Thanking the captain Seven of Nine touches her comm badge.

“Seven of Nine to ensign Rayel. Your presence is required in the captain’s conference room.”

“Rayel here ma-am. On my way”

A few moments later the handsome blonde ensign enters the room, trying his best to conceal his nerves while standing in front of his ship's most senior officers.

“Ensign Rayel, we require your assistance with an important decision that must be held in the utmost secrecy until it’s communicated to the wider crew. Can you assure us that you are suitable for this responsibility?” asks Seven in her usual sincere and serious tone.

“Yes ma-am.” respondes the ensign with all the confidence he can muster.

Captain Janeway says nothing but turns her gaze to counsellor Troi.

“He’s sincere captain. And also very proud to have been selected by us.” confirms Troi.

“As he should be. Ensign Rayel, you will be the first ensign to try on the new Starfleet uniform developed specifically for this mission.” says the captain warmly to the now beaming ensign.

“The uniform is inside the box behind the privacy screen. You will go behind the screen and change into the contents of the box. Is that understood ensign Rayel?” instructs Seven of Nine.

“Yes ma-am.”  

After several minutes an uncertain voice is timidly raised from behind the screen.

“I’ve put on everything from the box captain but I don’t know if I’ve missed something.”

“Ensign the full uniform is in there. I know it might be different to what you expected but this is Starfleet. We have a long history of refreshing our uniforms and sometimes we like to experiment with new and sometimes unexpected ideas.  I’d have hoped you could be a little more open minded. But perhaps you weren’t the right choice, if you don’t want…” says the captain but before she could finish the ensign leaves the concealment of the screen.  The self conscious ensign tries not to squirm under the laser focused stares of the all female audience.  Resisting the urge to place his hands in front of his crotch and instead adopting the expected “at ease” position despite this being the opposite of his current emotional state.

The reason for this discomfort and the audience's absolute attention was his new uniform.  The entire uniform consisted of two bits of fabric small enough to fit into ensign Rayel’s closed palm.  The majority of it, if it could be called such a substantial term, was nothing more than a pouch that slipped over his most private parts with a slight elastication around the edge for a more secure fit.  This was held in place by three strings, one going between his legs that immediately disappeared between his pert cheeks and two at either side at the top, acting like a waistband.  To further add to the outfit's fragility the side strings were cut and the two halves knotted back together into bows that hung from the high arcs at the top of his hips, accentuating his long slim legs.  The remaining part of the uniform was a silky black choker adorned with one silver pip to denote his ensign rank.  He’d fastened it around his neck by a small velcro patch at the back.  There was no footwear at all.

Each woman was silent, too busy mentally picturing every other ensign similarly attired to be able to speak.  But the most affected was clearly Counselor Troi whose eyes were almost closed and lips moving as if she was savouring one of her favourite chocolate sundays, but in this case she was feasting on the intense emotions of humiliation pouring from the nearly naked ensign.  She rarely had such an opportunity to indulge her secret betazoid perversion and couldn’t wait to sample more.

“Should the uniform have shoes, captain?” asked the nervous ensign.

“They were deemed unnecessary ensign.  We’re bulkhead to bulkhead carpeted after all.  So your soft little feet will be fine.” reassures the captain with a hint of condersention.

“But I do have one question myself.  Shouldn’t he have a comm badge?” added the captain, turning to chief Tilly.

“Oh yes captain the um the comm badge we still have the um comm badge.” stammers chief Tilly, turning to the captain but unable to stop stealing glances at ensign Rayel’s glorious body as she responds to her question.

“The comm badge has been, we’ve integrated it into the uniform at the, at the front area” she concludes, pointing a finger directly at ensign Rayel’s groin where a StarFleet insignia is printed on the material of the pouch. 

“Front and centre ensign.” commands the captain.  The ensign dutifully moves to stand in front of her as she smiles warmly and then leans forward, reaching out her hand until her finger tips touch the StarFleet insignia.  It takes all of his willpower not to flinch at her touch, the silk thin fabric transmitting her caress as if he had nothing on at all.

“Activated the usual way?” asks the captain but before anyone can answer she gives the insignia a sharp tap with three of her fingers.

The ensign tenses sharply causing his buttocks to dimple pleasantly for the ladies behind him but he doesn’t let out a sound.  The only noise comes from the familiar combadge chirp and an almost imperceptible gasp of pleasure from counsellor Troi.

Despite the combages not requiring close proximity to function the captain still leans in so close that her nose almost touches the fabric, placing her mouth directly in front of the ensigns masculine microphone.

“Captain Janeway to the bridge.  I’d like a status report.” 

“Lieutenant Saavik here captain.  All systems are looking good.”

“Thank you lieutenant everything looks good here too.  Janeway out.”

Ensign Rayel was allowed to put his old uniform back on and thanked for his assistance but warned no to spoil the surprise of the new uniforms to any of his shipmates.

Out with the Old

“Snap to it ensigns.  We have 4 more bunks to clear before this deck is completed.  Then we can join the rest of the crew on the observation deck for the Nebula ceremony.” instructs lieutenant Valeris in a curt tone.

The four ensigns try to work faster as they open discreet draws and cupboards built into the spaces between the sleeping bunks, reaching inside to grab the clothes and tossing them into a large laundry style hamper floating between them all. 

The ensigns move on to the next set of bunks but lieutenant Valeris spots a pair of black boxer shorts they’ve missed at the back of a draw.  She pulls out the offending item and holds them in her fingertips while facing her team.

“Be careful ensigns, time is short and I explained the parameters of our assignment clearly when we began.  We must not leave any item of clothing behind.”

She dropped the underwear onto the already huge pile of clothes and raises an eyebrow to indicate they should return to their work. 

In the shuttle bay the final team of ensigns position their collection of male clothing next to one of the many similarly laden containers lined up in rows facing the shuttle bay doors.  It seemed like a strange storage area but none of them felt confident enough to question it.  

In with the New

With the exception of a few officers on the bridge and in engineering the entire complement of the ships crew had assembled in the main room of the observation deck for the Nebula ceremony.

In front the panoramic view of dark space and colourful swirling gases stood a single lectern at which the captain waited for silence.

“Today is a historic day.  We have crossed the threshold of the nebula and entered a new frontier” proclaimed the captain to a short burst of applause.

“Please, let us save our celebrations for the end, because there will be much to celebrate.”

The captain continued to speak for some time, expressing her excitement for their mission and building the crew's enthusiasm for the journey ahead before revealing one of the mission's special privileges.

“Not only are we moving forward scientifically, we are also moving forward culturally.  The StarFleet uniforms are being refreshed and due to our remote mission we’ll be adopting them early.” 

Everyone looked positive about this news except for ensign Rayel who looked apprehensive.  The officers looked most pleased and a few surreptitiously adjusted their positions in the crowd to ensure their view of their favourite ensigns weren’t obstructed.

“If you’ll all indulge me I’d like to make this uniform change a little more interesting, I’ve always thought there should be more ceremony to the process so we’ll be doing this with the help of the transporters and the gentlemen will go first.  Captain to the bridge, chief Tilly engage.”

The familiar tone of a transporter sounds around the room as each ensigns body becomes enveloped in whitish, blue sparkles.  As the lights faded there was almost nothing left on the ensigns apart from their new g-string uniforms.

The immediate reaction was one of shock and hands instinctively trying to cover too many places, but once they looked around at their fellow ensigns they all realised it wasn’t a mistake.

In a neighbouring room Counsellor Troi was privately enjoying the tsunami of emotions, the sheer power of them made the separating wall irrelevant.  She was even more naked than the ensigns next door and rolling on the floor as she stroked her hands over her body, attempting to sample as many minds as possible while they each experienced the most humiliating event of their lives…so far. 

The female officers began to applaud, reassuring the ensigns that nothing was wrong with the new uniforms and indicating that they should be celebrating.  True to their profiles each ensign meekishly accepted the situation, each taking a lead from the others in a wonderful feedback loop of compliance.

“Captain to chief Tilly, decompress the shuttle bay.” said the captain so quietly the distracted audience didn’t even notice.

Behind the captain the view of space began to fill with a stream of ensigns uniforms, moving like rose petals under water caught in a slow current as they spiralled away behind the ship.

The unusual debris brought the audience's attention back towards the captain, who began to speak again. 

“When he reached the New World, Cortez burned his ships. As a result, his men were well motivated.” 

Behind the captain a bright phaser beam appeared and traced a white hot line through space where the trail of uniforms floated.

“I trust you’re all well motivated to accept these new uniforms now, because it will be these or nothing.”

Some of the ladies smirked, momentarily revealing that they wouldn’t mind that option either.

“And now for the ladies,” said the captain.

The transporter sound returned but this time the lights enveloped the female officers rather than the male ensigns.  When the uniform change was complete each woman was still dressed in a StarFleet one piece but with some significant alterations.  The most striking change was the neckline, it was no longer a straight collar but a plunging V that came down from the shoulders to the navel. The V was edged with gold to create a huge inverted StarFleet insignia.  Two smaller StarFleet insignia adorned the spots above each woman's nipples.  The sleeves were gone, revealing bare skin up to the shoulders, but their hands were now covered in elbow length black gloves.

On their feet the flat black shoes had been replaced by thigh black high boots that had a slight glossy shine to them and a high heel that was currently 3 inches but capable of increasing automatically up to 6.  

The overall result was very striking and most of the ensigns couldn’t help but stare at the more well endowed ladies who were now sporting an impressive amount of side-boob, on display in the slit at the front of their uniform, most notable Seven of Nine.  Try as they might to stop it, many of the ensigns now found their pouches growing, causing their insignias to lewdly contort and into a much more pointy arrow. 

“Attention!” called out the captain with a new fierceness. 

In response the ensigns dropped their hands to their sides and the captain gave her officers a moment to fully enjoy the picture before them, before she concluded their ceremony with some fitting words.

“Crew we’re now ready, to go where no woman has gone before.”