..."will perform for me, or your sparkling borg head will decorate the walls of my headquarters!" The hirogen hunter unzipped his Nazi pants and pushed Seven of Nine to the floor.
The 'hirogen' paused and 'Seven' - complete with fancy silver face implants and a ripped silver bodystocking revealing even more implants - stopped trying to look threatened.
"No, no, no, no, no, NO, *NO*!!!!" With a screech of frustration Harry hauled the 'hirogen' upright and turned to glare at Tom. He tore the beret from his head and threw it on the ground in disgust. "What the *hell* is that?"
Tom's eyes followed Harry's quivering finger to the source of his outrage. "It's the hirogen's cock, sweetheart."
Harry grabbed it and waved it furiously. "You call yourself a costume designer?!? This isn't a hirogen cock, it's a boring, stupid, dull, *human* cock!"
"Hey, there are human cocks present! Don't be disrespectful." Tom placed a warm hand on Harry's crotch and had it brushed away angrily. "And besides, it's three feet long. It's 'alien' enough for your nasty little small-budget excuse for art. If you think otherwise, you're getting pretentious, Harry."
"You're getting lazy, Tom, as well as fat and bald. You could have at least added some warpaint and a few bumps to this piece of... piece of...."
"Leola root, actually," Neelix offered helpfully from behind the camera. "Peeled, steamed whole until tender and then..."
"I don't *care* what it's fucking made of!" Harry shouted, flinging himself into the director's chair and lighting a cigar. "I *care* that it looks at least *vaguely* authentic. All I'm asking for is a cock which..."
Tom tuned out, distracted by Harry's golden fingers as they flicked ash carelessly onto the floor, then lifted the cigar to pouting lips... lips which parted to admit the object, then closed to suck at it furiously. His mind had glazed over by the time Harry's mouth parted and he expelled the smoke in an irritated stream.
"Have you heard a word I've said?"
Enough of this melodrama already, Tom decided. He straddled Harry's lap, grabbed cigar out of his mouth and replaced it with his tongue. After a few angry squeals, Harry let his hands slide down the pilot's back until they could grasp the protuding ass and stroke it suggestively.
Neelix sighed. "I guess that's a wrap for today, folks."
With a bitten-off groan, 'Seven' yanked off her blonde wig, shaking her sweaty brown hair loose while she pulled the silver costume down to her waist. The two pink, fleshy bust enhancers fell unheeded to the floor as she stood to unlatch the hirogen mask and remove it from her co-star's head.
"Captain, this costume is unpleasantly hot. I require immediate assistance removing it."
Janeway quickly divested Seven of the rest of the heavy rubber suit and cast it aside. Then she turned to address her protegee. "Did you enjoy today, Seven?"
Seven stood at ease, unconcerned by her nakedness. "Perpetrating abuse against a character representing myself was... emotionally challenging. I shall look forward to completing the scene."
Stepping closer, and closer, until they were backed against a holographic wall, Janeway smiled. "So will I." As Seven's gracefully inhuman hand rose to stroke back her damp hair, the captain leaned in to lick at the beads of sweat on the slender neck and followed with her tongue as it trickled further down.
Neither paid any attention to the loud crack of wood and breathless cursing nearby, as the flimsy chair buckled under a mound of writhing limbs.
And in the corner, Neelix re-focused the camera.