Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newsswing.news.prodigy.com!prodigy.net!atl-c02.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!feed3.newsreader.com!newsreader.com!yellow.newsread.com!news-toy.newsread.com!netaxs.com!newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: From: "Nick" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TNG "The Universe's Most Intelligent Sex Toy" P/Q [NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 174 Date: Wed, 15 Dec 2004 17:55:02 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1103133302 209.198.142.218 (Wed, 15 Dec 2004 12:55:02 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 15 Dec 2004 12:55:02 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86009 X-Received-Date: Wed, 15 Dec 2004 09:55:22 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: The Universe's Most Intelligent Sex Toy Author: Nick Series: TNG Rating: NC-17 Codes: P/Q Archive: Wherever, s'long as my name stays attached. Eventually at my site at: http://www.geocities.com/pompadour_slim/pq.html Summary: Q uses his otherworldly (non-worldly?) wiles to coerce Just a silly, dirty nibble of something. "Oh come on, Jean-Luc!" "Absolutely not! My second officer is not a sex toy!" Picard set his empty tea glass down and glared up at the omnipotent entity lounging atop his desk. Leaning forward with exaggerated thoughtfulness, Q cupped his chin in a large palm. "Are you saying you don't think he'd be interested?" "That is not the --" "Because from what I can tell he seems to be interested in virtually everything." Bristling, Jean-Luc stood hastily and jerked at the bottom of his uniform. It was absurd, and he wouldn't stand for further discussion. "Q, that is more than enough," he said sharply, feeling his exasperation rise when the entity seemed unaffected. Q cocked his head and tapped at his full lips with a long finger. "Have you even considered the possibility that he might find it a valuable opportunity to learn about human sexuality?" "Have *you* considered the possibility that you might simply be insane?" This was ridiculous. Q was in his own world. The man passed a hand over his scalp and started into the bedroom area of his quarters, knowing that Q would follow him even before he heard the soft thump of the entity's booted human feet hitting the floor in front of his desk. "I must be if I'm trying to have fun with you around, Jean-Luc. Talk about a stuffed shirt!" "Q," Picard grunted, stopping so abruptly in his stride that the entity almost ran into him. Reaching for the fastenings at the collar of his uniform, he went on with a helpless gesture. "Last night I sang Ave Maria, naked, with little chocolates dangling from my nipples. If that's not amusing enough for you, you should have stayed with Vash." Frowning, Q skirted around to watch him shrug out of the red and black top. "Vash is a cow. What are you doing?" Calmly, unmindful of the entity's scrutiny, Jean-Luc peeled away his Starfleet trousers so that he stood naked except for a pair of gray uniform briefs. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting ready for bed." A pause, and then: "Aww, my Johnny isn't jealous, is he?" Q batted his eyelashes and drew large, warm hands over Picard's bare chest. The man tried to hold onto his indignation, tried to pull away, but Q's hands on his skin did all sorts of gooey, tingly things to his stomach. "No," he sighed at last. "Of course not." But he was, sort of. Not of Data, of course; he knew his lover's interest in the android was pure sexual whimsy. There was a level on which he would always be jealous of Vash, though. In a way, she was a free-spirited, unfettered Jean-Luc Picard, and there were times when Jean-Luc wasn't sure why Q preferred him to her. "I didn't think so," Q murmured, threading his arms around Picard's shoulders and leaning in to place soft, full-lipped kisses along his jaw. Feeling vaguely annoyed with himself for being so easily manipulated, Jean-Luc returned the entity's embrace, shivering slightly as his cock came awake inside his Starfleet briefs. "I still don't think propositioning Data is appropriate." The man braced himself to feel Q pull away in irritation, but the entity went on nuzzling him, humming a bit as he licked at Picard's earlobe. "It's not like you're going to seduce him --" "Me?" "We. We're just going to politely ask him whether he wouldn't be interested in a night or three of intensely hot, omnipotently enhanced mansex, the like of which he might never again have the opportunity to experience." The mental image Q's throaty whisper conjured up for Jean-Luc made him feel light-headed, and he exhaled gustily as the entity bit down on his bare shoulder. "But I'm his superior officer," Picard breathed, barely aware that his lover was maneuvering him toward the bed with groping hands. His knees welcomed the excuse to buckle when Q pressed lightly at his shoulders, and soon he was kneeling on the floor, head bowed, with his elbows resting on the bed. "It wouldn't be... It might seem..." "You outrank everyone on this piddly little spacebucket, Mon Capitaine," Q whispered into Jean-Luc's ear as an adventurous hand snaked down the small of his back to slip under the waistband of his uniform briefs. Picard groaned softly, and the entity stroked his ass as he went on. "That doesn't mean you're not allowed to have any fun, does it? Riker outranks Troi, and you ought to see what they get up to when they think no one's watching. Imagine what hairy little ape children they would have!" Q was snickering, but Jean-Luc didn't want to imagine Will and Deanna having sex, and he didn't want to imagine what their children would look like. At that moment, all twelve of the man's still-function brain cells were busy telling his hips to raise and shift backward in an effort to entice or trick Q's naughty hand into slipping inside the entrance to his body. After a moment of hesitation, seeming almost like an afterthought, the entity complied, delving deeply with two slick fingers and making Picard groan and arch his back. "Q..." Jean-Luc grunted, balling the bedspread in his fists as his lover petted his back and fucked him idly with one hand. "The way you carry on --" came Q's thoughtful, unaffected voice from behind him, "or refuse to carry on, as it were -- you'd think there was a celibacy clause in the Starfleet Captain job description." Picard opened his mouth to say something, though he didn't know what, as all he could think of was heat and emptiness and need. When Q's fingertips brushed roughly against that spongy nub inside him, though, he momentarily forgot not only that he had intended to speak, but, indeed, who and where he was. "But let me tell you, Jean- Luc, there isn't. Most of your comrades can't get those four little pips off fast enough when a well-constructed off-worlder spends the weekend on their ship... and don't even get me started on the sordid hanky panky that goes on with the first officers..." "Q! Damn it!" Jean-Luc's briefs were tight enough to be painful now, and soaked through with precum as the man fought to keep from humping the edge of the bed just to get it over with. The scissoring fingers stilled inside him, and Picard distinctly heard himself whimper. "You know I'm right, Johnny." "I..." A snap sounded from behind Jean-Luc and suddenly his briefs were gone, along with the entity's fingers inside him. He gritted his teeth against the pain of emptiness and waited for Q's cock. Nothing happened. "Q," the man ground out finally, "I'm ready. What are you waiting for?" "Tell me I'm right." Picard's mind reeled. He tried to understand what Q was talking about. Oh, yes. Data. "I... I suppose a... tentative inquiry couldn't hurt." And Q took hold of one of his shoulders for leverage, one of his hips for control, and took him. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: