The dark confines were like an oven to him. He had enjoyed himself for the first few days of his torture, but after that it seemed to never end. The ship's sonic showers did a wonderful job at removing debris from the Captain's body at the end of a long day when she utilized such facilities, however - Mathew wasn't ordinary debris, and the showers only served to clean him as oppose to remove him from her foot...
Pleasure had overwhelmed every sense he had as his days went by. Sweat seemed to stick him to the skin between her toes like glue and every day he survived went the same way essentially. Some days Tesla would be jarred from her rest by an emergency situation, but usually she could get plenty of sleep each night... Then, it was back into the combat boots for a long and grueling day marinating in sweat before the end of the day came. Depending on how long the day was and how she felt, some days she would skip the shower in favor of sleep.
Nimbus III was the worst of his experiences so far, however. She spent days at a time on the surface only returning to the U.S.S. Celeste long enough to sleep only to do it again. He would get the reprieve of a shower, but the desert planet below made sure he would be roasted again and again as she worked to search for the Tal Shiar activity on the planet, as well as Thalaron Weapon Triggers that Starfleet Intelligence had reported.
After a few days of hunting on the surface, Tesla managed to trace the activity to a facility known as Installation 18. While waiting for orders to enter, she managed to get a little bit more relaxation in with a nice novel in her quarters...
Mathew whimpered, his body coated in sweat and dirt as he prayed to whatever god or goddess would listen that Tesla would step into the shower and relieve him of the heat. It wasn't simply the discomfort, it was the overwhelming pleasure he couldn't control. Every beat of his tiny heart was maddening and he could even feel her pulse through her skin. He was on a level of ecstasy no human had felt before, and it was driving him insane. His wish came true a few hours later, but it hardly helped his pleasure situation.
"Coffee... Black." Tesla said, repeating the same thing to the replicator every day since she got command of her first ship out of Starfleet Academy. Her accent was thick and Russian, showing her roots. The replicator hummed its electrical hum as the cup was produced - exactly to her temperature specifications down to the smallest degree. She stood with her eyes half closed, taking a deep drink of the black liquid to begin her day...
With her uniform squared away she made her way to the ready room, her hair not policed by a ponytail or anything this time. It wasn't long before she made her way through the bridge and into her familiar seat, ready to make her log entry for the day... Still unaware of her little passenger.
How long would he survive? Stuck as lint next to the smallest of her toes (Which is still larger than he is)
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Captain's Log: Stardate 94610.12
"Rapport with the citizens of Nimbus III seems to have improved greatly over the last few days. It's paid off, with their help we have pinpointed the source of the Tal Shiar activity. Now, we are simply waiting for permission from Starfleet to enter the facility."