From robinl@s054.aone.net.au Thu Apr 30 06:17:26 1998 Path: news4.ispnews.com!news11.ispnews.com!news1.ispnews.com!howland.erols.net!news.maxwell.syr.edu!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!nntp.earthlink.net!alexas From: "Robin Lawrie" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Subject: NEW: The Back Room, P/Q, Scene.[nc17] Date: Thu, 30 Apr 1998 06:17:26 -0700 Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Lines: 144 Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: 208.254.108.112 Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Newsreader: Yet Another NewsWatcher 2.4.0 Xref: news4.ispnews.com alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:7374 Subject: NEW: The Back Room, P/Q, Scene.[nc17] Date: Wed, 29 Apr 1998 15:23:40 +1000 From: "Robin Lawrie" To: "ascem" , "jeanita" ============ The Back Room ============ by Robin Lawrie robinl@s054.aone.net.au April, 1998 TNG, P/Q, Costumes, A fantasy scene.[NC17] for sex and violence. It may look suspiciously like a sequel to Night Clubbing but blame Jeanita and Laz for that. Call it a s*q**l. Amazing what a bottle of virtual Chivas can do. Disclaimer: Star Trek and the characters in this story are the property of Paramount. ============================================ Picard pushes open the naugahide covered door and enters the stifling confines of the back room. He sniffs disdainfully at the stale reefer smoke and amyl fumes, eyeing the coupling and groping and sucking men with barely concealed contempt. His white suit seems to glow, as the light from the suspended oil lamps over the pool table reflects from his pristine elegance. As his presence is noted, the activity in the room slows and stops. All heads turn and gaze thoughtfully, hopefully towards Picard. Why is he here? Who is he with? Does he want me? Can I have this one? A large, barrel chested man with a long scar running down his stubbled cheek, pushes away the head at his groin, grabs his still wet and erect cock, spits on the floor and stomps over to Picard. He stands real close, swaying into Picards personal space, breathing cheap whiskey and yesterday's cabbage across his face. 'Well. Come slumming, have we? After a bit of rough trade? How about you kneel right down there, and open your mouth like a good little girl and swallow what Daddy puts in there.' Picard holds still, facing the brute, slowly sucking back a lungful of smoke that he blows in a thin stream into the pitted and scarred face before him. 'I don't think so.' 'I wasn't asking nicely enough for you?' The thug rests a heavy paw threateningly on Picard's white shoulder. 'Pretty fucking please?' 'Q?' The fist lands squarely on the thugs nose, breaking it yet again, and splitting his upper lip in a spray of blood. He drops like a ton of bricks wearing a stunned expression before his eyes roll up and he tips slowly over to lie in the butts and stains of the back room floor. 'Nobody touches Mr Johnny, OK? Nobody except me. ' Q stands over his victim addressing the watchers. No one meets his eye. 'You all right boss?' Picard glances at his shoulder. There was a greyish smudge. 'He's ruined my jacket.' 'Fucking bastard!' Q punctuates his words with kicks to the thugs midsection. 'Enough, Q' Picard places a hand on the back of his minders neck possessively, running thin fingers into the short buzz cut. Q rolls his head, leaning into the caress. The cigarette in his holder is nearly spent. Picard decides a further demonstration is in order. 'Q. Hold out your hand.' The watchers gasp as with slow deliberation Picard grinds out his cigarette in Q's waiting, unflinching palm. 'Thank you Q.' 'Thank *you*, Mr Johnny.' Q nods his head, hand curled around the fire in his palm. He stares for a second at Picard's face. 'Sorry boss. I seem to have messed you up some.' He reaches out a thick callused finger and gently wipes away a spatter of blood from Picard's top lip. Picard grabs his hand before Q can wipe it on his pants, and slowly wraps his lips around the finger, sucking long and hard along its length. All the watchers groan and sigh. 'Kneel for me Q.' Q flashes a quick grin. 'Yes Mr Johnny.' Returning his empty cigarette holder to his top pocket, Picard unbuttons his pants, releasing his erect cock, stroking it. He grabs the top of Q's head and guides his cock into the open mouth. Q's hands remain by his side. He knows better than to touch Mr Johnny's new white suit. His hands were all dirty after messing with that Miss Beverly chick. Besides, the boss wants his mouth, not his hands, not his arse... this time. Q concentrates on sucking and tonguing the warm smooth cock filling his eager mouth. Picard's thrusts get harder and faster, and Q feels his head pulled back and relaxes his throat to take the full length of the bosses cock. His full fleshy lips press rhythmically around the thick veined shaft. Picard groans and grabs Q's head with both hands, driving himself deep into Q's face and holding him there as he comes. The watchers hold their breath, and pump their own hands on their own cocks seeing The Man take and use his minder and seeing the tough guy love it so much, and wishing it was them having their faces fucked. With great care, Picard pulls his dick from Q's mouth. Q cleans it off, and Picard puts it away. His pants stay white, unsullied. He pulls out a clean white linen handkerchief and dabs at the beads of sweat on his forehead. The sweat running down Q's face stays there. 'Thank you Q.' Q is still kneeling, busy rubbing his own erection through the thick black denim of his pants. He grins up at Picard. 'No problem Mr Johnny. Can I ....?' He nods towards the shadowy figures watching and waiting. Picard smiles indulgently. 'Of course. You stay and play a while. I'll be outside. I believe the club has a new singer on tonight. The Lady Vash. She sounds... promising.' Picard leaves the backroom, fitting a new cigarette to his holder, the open door letting in a sliver of light and music, before shutting with a firm thud. Q looks around, undoing his fly. 'Right. Who's first? And make it snappy. Mr Johnny needs me.' ****************** ****************** -- Posting to ASCEM is easy--just send your messages to ascem@earthlink.net To subscribe or unsubscribe to the mirror list--and for all other list-related inquiries, write to asceml@aol.com