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The setting for the Sheila & K'avir stories is the Star Trek Mirrorverse. Anything Star Trek-related are the intellectual property of Gene Roddenberry. All other characters, planets, star systems and content not within said scope are my own.


Zodiac: Nirayana

Aquarius’ favorite playspace in the Pleasure Palace was the bathhouse, of course.  During down time, she spent long periods of time soaking in any one of the baths.  Her personal favorites were the hydrogen infusion bath and the enormous cauldrons.  When she entertained clients, she made it a point to include a trip to the bathhouse as part of the experience.  Tonight was no different.  She led a guy who called himself Nork to one of the heated pools.  It was evident from the expression on Nork’s face that he’d never been to a bathhouse.  Aquarius backed away from him and removed her robe, revealing a perfect body.  Nork stared dumbly at the courtesan as she stepped into a whirlpool bath and sat down.

“Come on,” she said.  “It doesn’t hurt.”

“I’ve never sat in one of those before.”

“You won’t drown.  There’s a bench.  Come on in with me.”

Nork had been instructed to remove his clothes in the dressing room and put on an available robe made of a very fine terrycloth.  He stood holding it closed, feeling like a classless idiot.  This was too much for simple muscle.  Whenever he had to purchase pussy, it was usually very quick and dirty; either in an alley or a shit motel with hourly rates.  Nork was completely out of his element.  He would have rather gone to a bedroom, but the glorious beauty he chose insisted that they relax first in a hot bath.  He was too much of a numbnuts at the time to insist otherwise.  Exotic beauties like Aquarius usually never got within shouting distance of men like him.

“Come on baby.  I got you,” she said, sticking out a leg.  “Relax.”

Nork said, “Fuck it,” and dropped the robe.  He eased his way into the swirling bath, closing his eyes at the warmth.  He sat down on the bench and spread his legs, enjoying the whirlpool.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Aquarius said, sidling over to him.

“S’okay,” he said, raising his arm so that she could snuggle beside him.  “S’aiight.”

“Relax, darling,” she said, rubbing his belly.  “Relax.  It’s all good.  Aquarius has you.  She’s got you.”

“Mmmmmn,” Nork said, closing his eyes.   “Mmmmm, okay.”

Aquarius smiled and continued rubbing his stomach until his breathing evened out.  He was putty in her hands.  She would have to be quick, because Nork was twice her size.  Fortunately, there was another Sign who loved the bathhouse as much as she did, and he wasn’t far away.


The man who selected Capricorn was a pretentious asshole.   He started running his claptrap to an indifferent Capricorn as soon as he led him to his chamber.

“I mean, I’ve fooled around here and there, but I ain’t gay, dude.”

“So you’re bisexual then?” Capricorn said as he entered the room.

“Not even,” the idiot said.

“You’ve been with women then, have you?”


“You know what bisexual means, right?”

“Look man, I ain’t gay and I ain’t bi.  I love women and prefer women.  Just every now and then I get an itch, a craving…”

Capricorn leaned casually against the wall and stuck his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans while staring at the man.  “You itching right now?”

The man stared back.  It was ridiculous how handsome his choice was.  “A little.”

Capricorn’s voice was flat and monotone.  He hated lying-ass in-denial motherfuckers like this douchetard.  “Look, man, I don’t give a shit about your orientation. You chose me for whatever reason you did and I’m here to service you.  So what do you want?  You a top?  A bottom?  You want me to suck your dick?  You feeling in control, or you want to be controlled?  Tell me what you want and please, lay off the oversharing.  I don’t give a fuck about your life story."  

The man looked at Capricorn, dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt, leaning against the wall.  He was a beautiful man.  His skin was bronze and unmarked and had an unmistakable marvelous physique.  The pretentious asshole, whose name was Stevie, actually had his eyes on Macallan Zhou from the moment he entered the parlor.  He had a thing for Asian men.  When it was evident that Mr. Zhou wasn’t a menu item, Stevie’s eyes fell instantly on Capricorn.  He was expecting him to be docile and effeminate, but clearly the man wasn’t anything of the sort.

Stevie wasn’t sure if he should be excited about it.

“What do you want?  Why not start with a drink while you sort it out?  You heard Master and Mistress Zhou; we will do anything you want.  You can take a seat in that chair over there and I’ll pour you some of our house wine.”

Stevie nodded, dumbstruck at Capricorn’s lackadaisical attitude.  He didn’t seem to care at all about what was going to happen.

“Even better,” Capricorn said, smiling as he produced a thick blunt and a Zippo.  “Have some of this with the wine.”

Stevie, a proponent of all things cannabis, got super-excited seeing Capricorn’s blunt.  He lit it and took a drag before passing it to Stevie.  Stevie took it and sat back in the chair, smiling. He took two long pulls as Capricorn brought him a glass of red wine.

“Goes well with it,” he said, handing him the stem.  “Pass that.”

Stevie handed Capricorn the blunt, smiling.  “Bottom.”

“That what you want?”

Stevie coughed and took a long drink of the claret. “I like men like you.”

Capricorn stared at him, smiling slowly as he passed the blunt back without taking another hit.  “I figured you did.  Relax. Enjoy that.”

Stevie grinned.  “I will.”


The Gemini
Cock-Eyed Charlie selected the Gemini and the voluptuous vixens wasted no time in getting him to their suite of rooms.  Castor and Pollux didn’t give ol’ Cock-Eyes a chance to choose his pleasure; they immediately began undressing him the moment they got him into the room.  Charlie didn’t mind.  He couldn’t even believe it was all happening.  From the moment they stepped into the Zodiac Pleasure Palace, everything was surreal.  All the pretty people, the decadent food, that unforgettable red wine, and whatever kind of sex they liked…these things weren’t opportunities Nico Devinci’s goon squad had on a regular basis.

Cock-Eyed Charlie couldn’t get his mind around the fact that two curvy cinnamon-colored goddesses had him as the meat in their sandwich.  They were undressing him with wild abandon, kissing bared skin, hands moving over his body as if he were as handsome as Nico himself.  Charlie knew better; knew it was an act for his benefit, but he didn’t care.  Pollux grabbed his cheeks and started kissing him as Castor lifted his legs to pull off his jeans.  She pressed her warm body against Charlie’s skinny white backside and giggled deeply as she divested him of his shirt.  Castor slid her hand around his waist to stroke him and ol’ Cock-Eyes stopped thinking about anything. 

The Gemini moved closer.  And closer.




Aries’ goon had his face buried between her legs, rubbing his nose and cheeks around and around as she laid on the bed and pretended to enjoy it.  Then she folded one long leg behind his head and suddenly clamped down on his neck.  She grabbed her ankle and braced herself as he started to struggle and gasp.  He tried to shake her off, but her legs were locked in place.  He tried to pry her leg from around his neck, but they were like steel bands.  Aries twitched her hips and squeezed tighter as Goon’s eyes began to bulge and his tongue protrude.

She twitched again and his fingers started clenching.  Goon tried pushing himself up off the bed, but Aries was firmly in place, her glorious gams locked in a figure 4 around his neck, choking the very life out of him.  In moments, it was over and he was deader than petrified dogshit.  Aries relaxed for a minute or two, got up and did two deep kneebends, and then called downstairs for Chef.


Taurus rode Trev’s face, rotating her hips as the blonde ate her out.  She adjusted and reached down between her legs.  Trev was in a sweet tipsy heaven; Taurus tasted like strawberries and oranges, like dessert.  So into the act was she that she didn’t feel Taurus’ fingers on her nostrils and wasn’t prepared when her weight shifted and she pushed down while squeezing her nostrils simultaneously.  Taurus squeezed her thighs as tight as she could while Trev struggled valiantly to get up.  She scratched Taurus’ thighs, but had no fingernails to speak of.  She beat her fists against Taurus’ back and thrashed about on the bed.  But Taurus, being a bull, was stubborn and refused to move.  In time, Trev ceased to fight.

A short while later, Taurus slipped into her robe and called downstairs for Chef.


Lummox was on Virgo’s massage table, in warm bliss.  His eyes and lips were closed; unknowingly glued shut by a light adhesive.  She was giving him an acupuncture treatment.  He was so into what was going on and so drunk off the claret that he didn’t realize that he couldn’t open his eyes or his mouth.  He couldn’t move; didn’t want to move…couldn’t move even if he wanted to.  Her hands moved over his chest and face and she teased him with her lips.  A rumble escaped from Lummox’s throat and Virgo smiled as she grabbed two of her large acupuncture needles.

Moving ever so gracefully, she slammed one into one eye and the other one up his nose.  As she watched him tremble uncontrollably on the table, she drank some wine, smiling at her handiwork.  Then when the shaking ceased, she casually wiped her face with a damp, warm towel and called downstairs for Chef.


Cancer’s customer had dual fistfuls of his hair and he was moaning savagely as the Crab gave him spectacular head.  It was round three and the man had consumed two bottles of claret in between rounds.  He was at Cancer’s mercy and didn’t notice that his hands left his thighs to creep under the chair.  Cancer grabbed a pair of lethally sharp pincers he kept affixed underneath the chair as he deep-throated his client.  He had to say; the man had some exceptionally good dick, which was the sole reason for three rounds.  He didn’t need to look to retrieve his specialized weapons, but once he had his hands on them, it was just a matter of waiting for the right moment.

Said moment came when the client climaxed and bucked his hips.  Cancer raised his head, smiling, and jammed the pincers into the client’s upper thighs…right into the femoral artery.  He quickly back-crawled out of the way, just like a crab, and watched the blood spurt from the deep wounds.  The client got up but immediately fell to the floor in a pool of his own blood.  He glared at Cancer and screamed, “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Back against the wall, Cancer sat with his legs crossed and grinned evilly.  “Good luck with that.”

The client tried to crawl, but it was as if his body was acting independently of his mind.  He couldn’t seem to get his arms to lift him up and his legs twitched wildly.  He tried to pull himself forward like an inchworm, but all he succeeded in doing was falling face-first into the carpet.

Cancer got up and walked over to the man, another pair of pincers in hand.  He squatted over him and buried them into his neck.  Within a couple of moments, all the fight promptly left the client and he died squirming like a bug.

Cancer wiped his mouth and grabbed his cell.  He dialed the number to the kitchen and asked for the Chef.


Scorpio sat astride an exhausted Rock, snapping gum and twirling a lock of hair around one finger.  His eyes were closed and his breathing was labored.  Scorpio wondered if he would die of a heart attack during, but the bastard was obviously hiding stamina in his overbearing gut.

She moved slowly, leaning forward to press against him while reaching for the secret place on her headboard.  She rubbed her small breasts against Rock’s hairy chest and he purred like a mangy cat.

“Pretty Japanese girl,” he murmured, throwing a meaty arm around her waist. “Pretty Japanesy, pretty girly…”

Scorpio slipped something in her mouth before nuzzling Rock’s thick neck.

“Mmmmmn,” he moaned.  “Pretty Japanesy want more of Rocky???”

Scorpio gently ran her tongue—now with an added metal appendage—over Rock’s neck.  It was a stinger, full of fast-acting poison.  Quickly, she stung him two times before sitting up.  Rock’s hand went to his neck and he glared at her. 

“What the fu—“ he managed to get out before the poison stopped his heart.

Scorpio removed the stinger and put it back in its secret compartment.  She got off Rock and grabbed the phone.  It was time to call downstairs for Chef.


Tazra was in sex heaven.  Libra was a veritable phenom.  She’d been all over him for over an hour.  He was going to figure out a way to get an invite to join the Zodiac if Nico became a member.  If his boss was getting as expertly serviced by the lovely Mrs. Zhou as he was by Libra, then that wasn’t going to even be an issue.  It took no time for the woman to get him hard again after getting him off so damned hard he saw stars.

Libra rode him hard.  She was giggling down at Taz, keeping his hands on her breasts as she put it on him.  And again, it didn’t take long for him to get close to climaxing.  But this time, Libra stopped bucking her hips and leaned forward, planting her hands on either side of Taz’s head.

“You like it, baby?  You like what Libra’s doing?”

“Fuck yeah,” Taz breathed.  “Why you stop, girl?”

“Just like to hear it from those sweet lips,” she said, and closed her eyes.  She had a special set of muscles down low; muscles she kept in shape regardless of using them rarely.  She pushed herself all the way down on Taz and he let out a noise that sounded distinctly like an elephant seal.  But then the noise went quickly to a shriek and then a scream as Libra squeezed those special muscles as tight as she could.  She felt the crunch as her vagina dentata closed completely around Tazra’s erection.  Libra wiggled her hips, tearing the flesh away.  She stood up and dropped the bloody stump on Taz’s belly.  She laughed maniacally as Taz screamed and screamed and screamed.

After some time, the screams stopped.  Then she called downstairs for Chef.


The spinning, swirling vortex of super-warm water was crushing out the air in Nork’s lungs.  The fact that Aquarius was sitting on his chest in the pool didn’t help matters.  Pisces had indeed come to assist her in pushing Nork under water and keeping him there until he could no longer fight back.  They sat, chatting casually as they murdered the man.

“Didn’t think you’d be able to handle this guy all by yourself, Aq.  What is he, six-five, three hunnert?”

“At least,” she said.  “And then he kept on wanting to get out.  I made sure he had four glasses of wine beforehand, but it didn’t work as well as it usually does.”

Pisces had his hands on Nork’s forehead.  “Sometimes they be immune.”

“I guess,” Aquarius said, sparing a glance down at her client.  “I think that should do it.”

Pisces moved his hands.  Nork’s eyes were open and he was dead as hell.  “Yep.  I think so, too.”

Aquarius got up and took the combs out of her hair.  “You mind calling downstairs for Chef?”

Pisces stood up, the water sluicing off his beautiful brown body in rivulets.  “No problem, babe.  Anytime.”


Stevie was bent over one of the tables in Capricorn’s suite, pants bunched around his ankles, K-Y slathered all on his ass.  He was higher than a California redwood and drunk as a skunk, but he couldn’t wait for Capricorn to give him the business.  All his former bullshit had rolled downhill.  In spite of being two kinds of inebriated, he was hard.

“Fuuuuck taaaakin’ youuu sooo looooong…?”

Capricorn wasn’t even remotely considering fucking the guy.  He had a pair of nunchuks instead, specially made.  He walked up on Stevie and bumped his thighs.  “You ready?”

“Fuuuuck yeeeaaaah…!”

Capricorn pulled the nunchuks taut and wrapped them tightly around Stevie’s throat. With a superbly strong clean and jerk, he broke Stevie's neck.  Capricorn dropped the nunchuks and pulled out his cell phone.  It was time to call downstairs for Chef.


Being twins, Castor and Pollux had a very unique dynamic and a singular ability.  Cock-Eyed Charlie discovered this and was too enamored of the twins’ beauty to realize that they were killing him slowly and softly, octopus-style.  They wrapped their arms and legs around the skinny man, and Pollux, being on top of Cock-Eyes, pressed her fingers into his throat.  Then they pushed hard and squeezed him to death.  They had him locked down and he couldn’t even do so much as flutter a finger.  The Gemini smiled at each other as Cock-Eyes’ cock-eyes bulged as he strained for breath.  They could stay like this for long moments; long enough to get the job done. 

Finally, when it was obvious that Cock-Eyed Charlie could see no more, they pulled apart and took deep breaths.  Then they invoked the time-honored art of rock-paper-scissors to see who would call downstairs for Chef.


Macallan Zhou
Madalyne lay in the enormous bed between her husband and Nico Devinci.  She was facing Macallan, staring into his eyes.  Their fingers were linked and their legs were intertwined.  They were in their own world.  Macallan stared back at his wife, a woman he’d loved passionately and absolutely since they were fifteen years old and truly saw each other for the first time.  At that moment, there was no one else for Macallan and nobody else for Madalyne.  Their hearts belonged to each other and that was that. 

There were those who wanted to keep them apart; those who didn’t understand their need to be together, those who couldn’t comprehend their unique love.  But when the time came, when the military and medical school were no longer barriers, they did what needed to be done.  They did what was required for
Madalyne Zhou
them to be together.  It got messy, it got ugly and it got violent, but there was no way he was going to be with another woman and she with another man and no point in pretending otherwise to appease the lessers.

Macallan cupped one of Madalyne's breasts and played with her nipple until it hardened.  “I enjoyed that immensely.”

“So did I,” she said.  “He’d be nice to keep around, don’t you think?  Imagine the fun we could have.”

“I was considering that.  Those dicks at the 15th Precinct need never know that we didn’t complete the job.  He’d be our secret.”

Madalyne looked over at Nico.  The man lay beside her, quiet and still.  He seemed deep in thought.  After the events of the night, it was understandable.

“How’s he doing?” Macallan asked, lowering his head to suck Madalyne’s nipple.  Her nipples were life.

“Hmm,” she said, leaning over to stroke Nico’s goatee.  She had come to enjoy his facial hair over the ensuing hours; the man knew how to use it.  Nico's head lolled to the side and his eyes were glazed over.  He was dead.  

Madalyne sighed.  “Not so good, Macz.  I think we broke him.”

Macallan didn’t bother looking up from her breast.  “Guess that’s the end of that conversation.”

Nico Devinci, 1970-2014


  1. One - Interesting chapter titles.

    Two - How are you keeping all these titles straight?

    Three - I really like Capricorn!

    Four - LOLOLOLOL - you killed off an Ian Anthony Dale character. YOU of all people.

  2. 1 & 2: It's in keeping with the celestial theme, and it all makes sense in my head...but I'm not about to explain it all.

    3. Me too. He and Taurus are the least fucks-giving of the Signs. He's also almost always high and I think he's hilarious because he doesn't give a shit about anything other than making money and smoking weed.

  3. 4. Girl, I was having second thoughts about killing off foine ass Ian Anthony Dale, aka Nico Devinci. I was curious to see how the dynamic between him, Macallan and Madalyne would play out if he survived that fateful night. But he didn't, unfortunately. They broke him.

    Maybe I'll do an alternate timeline where he survives and becomes the Zhous' "secret."


Reviews are welcome and appreciated. Flames will be used for grilling.