Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-pas-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!pd7cy2so!shaw.ca!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!news-xfer.newsread.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: "Locutus Dreams" P/R [NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 138 Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2004 15:55:02 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1103990102 209.198.142.218 (Sat, 25 Dec 2004 10:55:02 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2004 10:55:02 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:86249 X-Received-Date: Sat, 25 Dec 2004 07:55:08 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: Locutus Dreams Author: Nick Rating: NC-17 Codes: P/R Archive: Wherever, 'slong as my name stays attached. Also eventually at my website at: http://www.geocities.com/pompadour_slim/pq.html Feedback: Public or private, here or there, yes. Summary: Will Riker is having erotic nightmares and he doesn't want Warning: Borgsex. You've been warned, and at the expense of whatever mystery remained after you read the title, I might add. Notes: AQ, I don't think this is what you meant when you asked for Picard/Riker, but c'est la vie. ;) I'm planning two or three more of these, probably with Data and Q... I don't guess Locutus has a code, so I used P. Has anyone else ever written a Locutus smut story, I wonder? They always started out as ordinary nightmares. Sleeping fitfully in his quarters, Will would dream about waking up in the blue dark with a heavy feeling in his chest and an indistinct sense of dread when he glanced toward his unilluminated bathroom. Stubbornly, almost spitefully, he would climb out of bed intent on proving to the abandoned boy that lived inside him that there were really no monsters in the closet. Messy-haired and barefooted, he would pad across the room, hunched with the stiffness of sleep and cold with the fear of what if. What if this time when the door hissed open he stood face to face with a great horned slavering beast who ate little boys with no one to call for help? Standing back warily, Will would reach a large, unsteady hand out to touch off the proximity sensor of his bathroom door. He would brace himself. The hissing sound would come, the door would slide open, and instead of a horned beast he would find only darkness. But it was an unnatural sort of darkness, utterly black, and where the dim blue running lights should have hit there was nothing. Too late his heart would freeze over when he registered the utter wrongness of it, always too late. By then that one, tiny beam of red had already blinked on. It would rove jerkily to and fro and, except for the trembling, Will would go completely still, hoping, willing it to miss him or to deem him unthreatening. Unimportant. But it never did. With the muted whir of machinery, the soft leather creak, and illuminated by his own dim gray light, Locutus would reveal himself with that one step that brought him through the door and face to face with the man who had once worshipped him. Never quite knowing why but too wrapped up in terrified awe of that half-human creature to wonder, Will always fell to his knees before the Borg Prince, trembling with panic and dread and something else for which he could never forgive himself. It was about then that he got hard, every time. There was no build-up, no arousal phase - he hit the plateau dead-on and became hard as a rock staring up at all that metal and synthetic black biting into icy white skin. This thing, which as a man had stood more than a head below him, towered over Will as he knelt, so tall in the dreaming man's eyes. The red beam would find him, poke him in the eye and blind him, and a whisper-soft click would precede Locutus' black gaze as it dropped to his face. "You will service us, Number One," came the sound of a thousand metallic voices given crisp, precise diction by the loudest and deepest of them, the one that used to belong to Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Though he loathed himself for the compliant way his lips parted, Will was never fast enough, and Locutus invariably clamped a cold, black-covered hand over the side of his face with crushing strength, forcing a thick metallic thumb into the corner of his mouth and prying his jaws apart. Still trembling, covered in sweat and stinking of unnatural arousal, Will would blink over and over, not wanting to see but desperately afraid to close his eyes. The hiss of synthetic outer dressing and another tiny, portentous whir signaled the appearance of *It*, inches from the man's open mouth and unmistakable in its intent. *It* was Locutus' frigid, blue-veined, white cock, which was connected to his hybrid body not only at its base, but by a series of narrow wires threaded all through its length and worming back to the shrouded abyss of his groin. Tiny chips bearing lights that flashed in the dimness of Will's quarters were partially embedded here and there, and the slit along the head gaped at him, fairly seeming to breathe though Locutus did not. It had taken several dreams for the Enterprise's first officer to form a complete mental picture of that terrifying organ, as it was never more than a few seconds before the thing was plunged remorselessly into his waiting mouth. With white flesh cold and clammy along his tongue and cybernetic implants that ran hot against the tender insides of his cheeks, Locutus' cock should have revolted Will. Instead, the man's mouth invariably filled with saliva, all the better to slather the thing with his worship, and the man's throat never succeeding in closing around a whimper of bizarre fulfillment. His throat couldn't close, either, when the creature who had once been his captain - a man he would gladly take into his mouth to show his love and loyalty if only that man would deign to desire it - thrust forward hard, burying itself entirely and expelling the satisfied grunt of a thousand voices vocalizing the pleasure of their power. They always started out as ordinary nightmares, but sometimes the monster wasn't hidden in his closet. Sometimes Will dreamt that he was in Ten Forward, drinking and dining with a faceless, nameless lieutenant with pink, full lips and a vital flush on smooth, unblemished cheeks. She would giggle and drain her drink and, grinning roguishly, he would look away to signal a waiter. But there would be no waiter and, indeed, no anyone, not even a pink-lipped smooth-faced young lieutenant when he looked back sharply, bursting with the tiny hope that he hadn't been left alone with whatever terrible thing had emptied the bar of life. The lights would waver, then, and begin to blink in long, rhythm intervals. The hum of the ship's engines would grow until it was a stifling buzz, and then it, too, would waver rhythmically, ominously. He would look down to find that his table was black, ribbed and twisted, with a metal base that seemed to grow out of the floor. The floor. It would be black and uneven like the table, with strange ribbing and a sprinkling of panels bearing sockets and switches. Will would stumble out of his chair, whirling around in horror. And then that red light would find him in the dim black, and it would start all over again. It was nearly impossible to sleep now, and increasingly difficult to set foot inside Ten Forward. Sleeping pills had helped for a while, but he couldn't request more without explaining why he needed them. Deanna had asked to see him in a professional capacity and he wasn't sure how much longer he could put her off. But the worst thing, the absolute worst thing, was trying to look the Captain in the eye. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: