Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!c01.usenetserver.com!c03.atl99!atl-c02.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!peer01.cox.net!cox.net!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.monger.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: "lyrastarwatcher" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TNG The Green Meanie 1/1 (group, challenge)[NC-17] Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 183 Date: Thu, 26 Aug 2004 04:55:03 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: monger.newsread.com 1093496103 209.198.142.218 (Thu, 26 Aug 2004 00:55:03 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 26 Aug 2004 00:55:03 EDT Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:83086 X-Received-Date: Wed, 25 Aug 2004 21:55:04 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: The Green Meanie Author: Lyrastar, but she ain't proud Series: TNG Pairings: Yes, lots. Rating: N! for Nasty! Warnings: Yes, but I wouldn't know where to start Contact: Lyrastarwatcher at yahoo dot com or www.geocities.com/lyrastarwatcher Beta: You've got to be kidding! Banged out in an hour and spellchecked by Microsoft. Even the dog wouldn't listen to it. Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, but there's precious little they'd recognize here. Assorted bits nipped from ASCEM chatter and the like. Any resemblance to real authors may or may not be coincidental. Summary: For Stephen's revenge fic challenge. Someone in TNG has THE GREEN MEANIE Lyra looked up from her computer in surprise when the doorbell rang at the main house on her goat ranch. She wasn't expecting any visitors. The dog would bark or paw at the door when he wanted to be let in, and the best the goats could manage was a sort of an epileptic tappity-tap with their horns. Pulling her Star Trek 25th Anniversary nightshirt primly down over her Rubenesque hips, Lyra opened the door. It was a dark-skinned man with a nicely toned body and a hair-band pulled down over his eyes. Before Lyra could utter a word, he stunned her with his ray gun. Still conscious, but effectively paralyzed, She fell backwards onto the overstuffed leather loveseat that she had bought on the no- payment-for-2-years plan from Rooms to Go and had yet to make the first payment on. "Okay guys, positions!" The TNG crew came rushing in, Captain Picard in the lead. Within seconds he was dancing a striptease on the sofa, straddling Lyra's body, arms waving above his head. His creamy white basket swung between his legs as he moved, strangely disturbing in the perfection of its hairlessness. Slowly, very slowly, he lowered it towards Lyra's face. Drool dribbling from the corners of her mouth, Lyra managed to stick out her tongue. It flopped impotently to the side, a coincidentally few inches away from her promotional Viagra pen that, unbeknownst to her, had been dropped between the seat cushions some months ago by a careless boyfriend. "Jean-Luc! Don't let her touch you!" Positioned strategically on top of her barely used treadmill from Sears, Geordi barked the order. "Don't worry, mon cher, I'm saving it all for you, lovemuffin." With a swing of his hips and a wicked wink toward the treadmill, Picard raised his rippled body back to a stand and continued to gyrate just out of reach. Geordi blew him a kiss and reverted his attentions to the rest of the crew. "Deanna, spread your legs wider." On the large sofa, Deanna complied. She bent to a sit just long enough to pull her too-tight Spansex dress over her head, and with a shake of her head, toss it aside over on the monogrammed L.L Bean doggie beanbag bed. Naked, she craned her neck backwards over the arm of the sofa, trying for hypoxia, and made assorted moaning faces as Beverly ate her out most professionally. Sensibly Beverly stayed fully dressed. MILFs aren't for everyone, you know. She stuck her ass in the air and let her hair hang down around the sides of her head until she was lost in anonymity. She could have been any shapely body that got off by grazing on ripe Betazoid bush. On the Berber carpet, Worf, Wesley and Riker had a threesome. Feet, ass, hands and dicks were everywhere. Riker sucked Wesley's dick; Wesley rimmed Worf's ass; Worf fingered Riker's asshole; Riker pumped Worf's cock. Wesley tried to work out the mechanics of how to take both cocks up his ass at once. It should be possible. One time at Starfleet Academy he'd managed a dynatronic hydrolator, but he'd been in regular practice then and eating Bran Flakes every day. Guinan sat legs splayed on the wet bar. Raising her skirts, she did the Sharon Stone for the room. When everyone had a good eyeful, she methodically began to finger herself; no one else would do. She was so much wiser than everyone that she was obviously the only one who could know how to do it right. Taking it all in, Data and Tasha sat on the straight-backed dining chairs primly holding hands. After all, Data might be fully functional, but he was NOT yiffy. Curious, the dog came up and sniffed her crotch. Giving Data's hand a little squeeze, Tasha spread her knees and smiled chastely. Dogs aren't only man's best friend. "Hey Lyra, how do you like them apples?" Geordi said. "Sex all around you everywhere and nary a drop to drink. Now you know how it feels. What do you say to that?" Under the effects of the ray gun, Lyra couldn't say a thing. She stared mesmerized as Picard gyrated over her face. As he moved his feet, she slid helplessly around the loveseat now made slippery by the pool of her own juices. "Hehe! That's what I thought. Now for the piece de resistance, get a load of this." From behind his back, Geordi whipped out a giant green double-ridged dildo. It has sort of a waxy sheen and seemed to quiver as he ran his hand over it. "Got a 220 hook-up?" Geordi asked looking around. Then she saw the cord. Correction: giant green double-ridged vibrator. Lyra oozed. Geordi plugged it in. The lights went dim all over the goat farm. At the first electrical hum, the dog whined piteously, left what he was doing and scurried from the room, tail between his legs. Tasha cussed and began thumping her thighs together in rapid rhythm. Geordi approached the loveseat with the Green Meanie. "I bet you'd like this, wouldn't you pr0nobabe?" He touched her nipples with the Meanie and she gushed again, barely missing his boots. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Geordi sucked in air, licked his lips and rubbed his impressive erection through his pants. "But none of this is for you." He dropped the Meanie into the crotch puddle, letting it shake-rattle-and-roll about mid-thigh level, leaving Lyra whimpering silently around a flaccid tongue. Geordi dropped his pants and revealed a mahogany-carved body that would have made Narcissus jealous. "See how you like being left to watch while everyone else gets off. Come here, babe." He jerked his head towards the Captain and Picard hurried down to his side at once. Geordi cupped Picard's basket with a proprietary squeeze. "Not only do I get the orgasm of the century, but I get your dream man too." He slapped Picard on his alabaster ass. "Bend over, bitch." Picard leaned over the sofa and buried his head in his arms. Geordi readied his dick. It took both hands. "Oh, yeah, this is going to be good." The room rippled. Geordi looked up. "What the--" Picard raised his head and bellowed, "Q!" Geordi swore. "It's not Q. I sent him off with Vash. It must be ~Lyra and another 'The End'. Hold on Jean-Luc, we'd better make this quick." The room rippled again. The Enterprise crew began to dim. Geordi pushed his dick forward, but it passed through the apparitional ass like passing through thin air. "No!" Waning rapidly, Geordi fell to his knees and pounded the still solid floor. "No, no, no...." His sobs weakened died as the whole bunch thinned and disappeared leaving only Lyra and her puddle. The Green Meanie was still there--sort of, but it was not electrified and lifeless now. She picked it up. It looked like a certain candle her gramma Howard used to have. ****************** Safe and sound in the laundry room, Q's rabies tag clinked as he scratched behind his ear with a hind paw. Much more satisfied now, he collapsed to the tile to lick his balls. The black cat sprawled lazily across his leg and licked daintily at his ear, purring in contentment. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. 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