The Cut of Her Jib

“I really like the cut of her jib,” the Lieutenant said to the Captain.

“I will not tolerate anything less than profound respect for our new seaman. Your leering is a disgrace to the uniform you’re wearing and the service it represents. If I have to address this issue again, it will be as a formal reprimand. Am I clear?”

“Aye, Captain, sir.”

Both men stood at attention as the new Engineering Duty Officer was piped aboard the ship. The Lieutenant noted the bronze palm that indicated she outranked him as a Lieutenant Commander. She also wore a silver trident ring, the insignia of the Navy Seals. He realized that the Captain’s warning had not been for her benefit. This woman could not only kick his ass, but kill him in multiple ways. And she had a Doctorate in Engineering. And she looked just like Captain Janeway from Star Trek Voyager. The Lieutenant had soiled many an adolescent paper towel watching her exploits on TV and now her doppelganger stood before him.

The problem was that he was going to have to be in close proximity with her for ninety days, traveling under one pole and around another, and not reveal the tremendous physical attraction that he felt for her. The Lieutenant was a consummate professional and had no desire to impose on her nor diminish her status as a highly accomplished Naval officer. He found what had occurred on the USS Florida in 2018 to be abhorrent. In fact it was her power and her ability that made her so attractive. In his secret heart of hearts, he wished that she would dominate him. He would happily acquiesce to whatever she might do to him, even if it was a little painful.

On their 44^th day undersea, he was surprised when she sat herself and her tray down directly across from him in the officer’s mess. He stood and saluted, then examined the salmon he was eating in excruciating detail to avoid making continued eye contact with her.

“Lieutenant,” she said in a voice just loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to penetrate the general cacophony that surrounded them.

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Do you find me attractive?” The Lieutenant coughed to dislodge the scalloped potato that he suddenly found himself choking on.

“Wh-wh-wh…” The Lieutenant blubbered incoherently, his eyes bugging out like a fish.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, “It wasn’t a question, so much as an observation. It radiates from you like gamma radiation and I can see that it makes you so uncomfortable that it’s having an adverse effect on your performance and we can’t have that continue, can we?”

All The Lieutenant could do at this point was shake his head. He felt like he was balancing on a high-wire between paradise and a dishonorable discharge.

“Tantra can help you.” She gave him some lessons and completely redirected his energy with no compromise of decorum. His performance improved.