Kinktober: Star Trek Lower Decks Femslash One-Shots

Day 8: Degradation/Humiliation Play (Mariner/T'Lyn)

Mariner was lounging on her bed, her typical playful grin firmly in place as she eyed T'lyn, who was standing at the edge of the room with her usual composed, calm expression. Tonight, though, Mariner had a specific request, something that she knew would be far outside of T'lyn's Vulcan logic. But that was half the fun.

"So," Mariner began, stretching her arms behind her head, "I was thinking... maybe tonight we try something a little... different."

T'lyn's brow furrowed slightly as she studied Mariner, her arms crossed in her usual logical stance. "Different in what way?" she asked, her voice even and controlled.

Mariner's grin widened. "Dirty talk. You know, saying... unkind things to me while we're doing it. A little degradation. It's hot."

T'lyn's eyebrows raised slightly, her expression showing a hint of confusion. "You wish for me to insult you during intimate activity?"

"Exactly," Mariner said, sitting up and motioning for T'lyn to come closer. "It's all about the thrill, the power play. It's just fun."

T'lyn hesitated, clearly processing the request with her usual Vulcan thoroughness. "I do not understand how insulting you would contribute to a positive experience," she stated plainly. "However, if this is what you desire, I will comply."

Mariner chuckled, patting the bed next to her. "Just give it a try. Say something mean. I promise it'll be fun."

T'lyn moved to sit beside Mariner on the bed, her posture stiff, clearly out of her element. "Very well. I will attempt to fulfill this request." She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as though calculating the most logical way to proceed. "You are... deeply inefficient in your duties aboard the Cerritos," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Your inability to follow Starfleet regulations is consistently disappointing."

Mariner blinked, her grin faltering as she stared at T'lyn in disbelief. "Wait, what?"

T'lyn, seemingly unaware of Mariner's confusion, continued. "Your constant disregard for protocol endangers the crew and undermines the integrity of the mission. It is a source of frustration for everyone, including myself."

Mariner's mouth hung open, the heat and excitement she'd been building up completely dissipating. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. That wasn't sexy at all!" she exclaimed, sitting up and throwing her hands in the air. "What the hell, T'lyn?"

T'lyn looked genuinely perplexed. "You asked me to say unkind things to you," she said, her voice calm and measured. "I assumed you wished for me to express my legitimate criticisms of your behavior."

Mariner groaned, running a hand through her hair. "No! No, no, no. Not like that!" she said, shaking her head. "It's supposed to be playful, not... I don't know, a performance review!"

T'lyn raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "I see. I misunderstood the parameters of the request."

Mariner sighed, slumping back onto the bed. "Okay, let me show you how it's done," she muttered. She sat up again, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she leaned in closer to T'lyn. "You say stuff like, 'You're such a dirty little thing,' or 'I bet you love being used like this,' you know? It's not real—it's just part of the fun."

T'lyn's brow furrowed again, her analytical mind clearly struggling to comprehend the concept. "You find such statements... arousing?" she asked, her tone full of genuine confusion.

"Yeah," Mariner replied, nodding emphatically. "It's all about the vibe. It's not supposed to be serious."

T'lyn seemed to consider this for a moment, her head tilting slightly. "And you derive enjoyment from this activity?"