The characters are Paramount's, except for Ensign Siegler, and Hathaway and Wong, who are down in Engineering working on the plausibility generator but haven't gotten it fixed yet. The recipe for the green stuff is Neelix's. The story is extremely silly, but for adults only.
This was written in the summer of 1995--a couple minor points have subsequently become non-canon. Not that the stuff about what's available from the replicators is canon per se, but it hasn't been contradicted on the show that I can remember....

Chapter 4
In which Paris is abducted

"Now this is interesting," said Harry Kim at Ops. "I'm showing a 70% increase in power consumption for the replicators. Everybody seems to be blowing their credits at once."

"Can you determine the cause of this increase?" asked Tuvok. "Is it related to the malfunction of the plausibility generator or to the effects of the...Rabosian mousse on the crew?"

"I'm running an analysis of what's being ordered and by whom. That should give us a clue," said Kim, entering his request by touching a sequence of varicolored polygons on the panel in front of him. "Just what are the effects of this mousse? That's the green stuff, right?" He knew nothing about it beyond the fact that it was somehow responsible for his being called back to duty and away from his work on his new holoprogram, and Tom Paris's assessment that it was surprisingly bland for one of Neelix's creations. He'd had the purple stuff, himself--he'd had something green for lunch, and choosing the same color at dinner would have gone against his ingrained preference for order and balance.

"Affirmative. It seems to result in increased libido and/or decreased inhibitions in humans. The doctor is conducting a study."

Well, that put Jenny Delany's grab for him in the corridor in a whole new light. Kim hoped they wouldn't run across any dangerous space anomalies that night. He'd had the impression that many more people had opted for the green stuff than for the purple stuff. This wasn't particularly surprising, since the purple stuff had been kind of scary-looking, whereas the green stuff, while not exactly appetizing, at least had a uniform texture and no mysterious chunks. Tom Paris had chosen the green stuff. When Harry had left, Tom had still been sitting there eyeing B'Elanna Torres. Harry hadn't noticed what she'd had for dinner, but the thought that Tom and B'Elanna might be....His amusement at that notion was quickly replaced by the realization that he himself might easily have consumed a substance which might have caused him to fling himself at someone who, while extremely attractive, gave the impression that she probably ate green ensigns for breakfast. It was a terrifying thought, but also oddly fascinating. Indeed, he had a feeling it would be much on his mind for weeks to come. He turned to the readout which was coming up on his monitor.

"Well, I'd say that's what's responsible for the increased replicator use, then. They are being used primarily for massage oil, chocolate syrup, and, um, various leather articles."

"Interesting," said Tuvok.

Tom Paris awakened from a brief nap to find that B'Elanna had left the room. He checked the living area and the lavatory, but found both entirely devoid of slender honey-colored women. He asked the computer for B'Elanna's current whereabouts and was rather surprised by the answer, but gathered that she wouldn't be coming back soon. He took a quick shower, using her sandalwood-scented soap, got dressed, left her a note, and stepped out into the corridor, intending to return to his own quarters.

Paris was not the only one who had been using the computer's locator feature, however, and he was startled to find himself seized by both arms. There were, in fact, three women present. They all grinned at him. He grinned back. This was shaping up to be the kind of night middle-aged men drinking alone in bars at closing time sometimes claimed to have had in their youth.

The Delany sisters' quarters were two decks down and about fifteen meters farther forward. As they were walking down the corridor, giggling and looking nervously about for any purple-stuff- eating security people who might spoil the party, one of the doors slid open and an eager blue face looked out.

"May I join you?" asked Chell politely. The Delany sisters looked at each other, then at Siegler, then at Paris. There seemed to be no objections.

"By all means," said Rose Delany. Chell took Siegler's arm and the little group proceeded on its way. Soon they were safely inside the quarters shared by the Delany sisters. Jenny directed the computer to provide some music. It was either Terran or colonial, Paris wasn't quite sure. It wasn't a group he knew. The lyrics were pretty stupid. But he wasn't really in need of auditory stimuli, not when the Delany sisters and Ensign Siegler were hastening to get out of their uniforms (as was Chell, but he was a bit too round of figure for Paris's taste). Individually, he decided, none of the three women could hold a candle to B'Elanna, but they were pretty easy on the eyes. And, of course, there were three of them. Siegler was tall and slender, with very fair skin and sleek red hair which reached down to the level of her rosy nipples. The Delanys were darker, Rose's hair worn short and soft and Jenny's in braids. Jenny was the taller of the two, with large breasts and smoothly curving hips and thighs. Rose was thinner, with a small waist and firm, round breasts. Chell was as struck by the sight of them as Paris was, to judge by his uncharacteristic silence.

"Who do you think is the prettiest?" asked Jenny Delany, striking a pose.

"No, no," said Paris, raising his hands defensively. "I'm not going to get into trouble here. You are all equally lovely."

Jenny Delany began to unzip his uniform. Siegler had her arm around Rose Delany's waist and was nibbling her ear. Chell turned his attention to them. Rose was running her fingers through Birke Siegler's beautiful hair. Chell went over and put his arms around Birke, taking her white breasts in his blue hands. Rose thrust her tongue between Birke's narrow red lips.

"Computer, reduce gravity to 1/4," said Jenny. She bent her knees, put her hands on Paris's waist, and hoisted him onto her shoulder. She held him there with one hand while with the other she pulled his jumpsuit off over his boots--she'd already dealt with the turtleneck. She carried him to her bed, set him down on it, and hopped up herself, her braids swinging. "All right, hotshot," she said, "let's see what you can do."

Some time later, as Jenny lay with her head in Paris's lap, licking her juices off his cock, Chell came over and inserted his bald blue head between her legs. On the other bed, Birke was providing similar services for Rose, who lay on her back with her knees drawn up to her chest. Paris observed the inviting way Birke's hips and lean, fair legs hung over the edge of the bed and considered his next move.

"You know," said Jenny, drawing back from Paris's private parts and looking up at him with her big, dark eyes, "I think Neelix's cooking is beginning to grow on me."

The five of them spent a pleasant evening together, during the course of which the Delany sisters' remaining replicator credits were transformed into a bottle of amaretto and a pair of fur-lined handcuffs. Chell, who was new to Starfleet, was rather surprised to find that the replicators were programmed for the latter item. They managed to get through eight of the ten theoretically possible pairings, plus several larger formations, before they all fell asleep. Chell, who was actually entirely unaffected by the green stuff but figured that since he was the only Bolian on board nobody could prove that, conked out at about 0230. Tom Paris remained fully functional until almost 0500, when he finally passed out. He still had his boots on.

To be continued....