RTFH, if the crosspostings make it through penet, I forget.
Sorry to disappoint my fans, but it's not particularly violent, and it's really not hateful enough for a.e.w.d.d.d, so sue me.
Folks on alt.sex.fetish.startrek have been clamoring for some m/m trek, I wrote this a while ago, meant to write more, never got around to it. I hear rumors Wil Weaton's on the 'net, if so, this prob'ly constitutes a rude public wanna 8>9
Holodeck Fantasy #1
by Mark E. Dassad
(c) 1993 the author
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Barclay stood nearly trembling, his eyes drawn to the back of the slim body of young Cadet Crusher cavorting naked under the gentle waterfall. His round pale buttocks, so smooth, so pink, so... virginal. And with that doofy art-boy haircut plastered wetly to his head he seemed even more attractive...
Wesley turned, full lips, flaccid, uncircumsized penis hanging limp from his near-hairless groin over two unimpressive wrinkled little testicles, his arms awkwardly akimbo, he stared at Barclay, a grin spreading across his face.
"Broccoli! Come for a swim." He reached into the pool of water swirling around his thighs, waded toward the older man, splashing and grinning wickedly.
"W-Wes, d-don't... stop splashing me!" Barclay staggered awkwardly, backing away from the waterfront, away from the wet, naked boy. His stretchy standard-issue uniform pants only accentuated the bulge swelling from his groin.
Wesley grinned, enjoying the lieutenant's discomfort, smug in the knowledge that his youthful body excited the officer. He stepped out of the water and grabbed Barclay's wrist; heaving backward and to the side as he'd learned in his judo class, he sent Barclay to his knees in the muddy bank of the pool...
But Barclay had somehow managed to get through the Academy's basic training, and he did outweigh the lad by nearly 30 lbs... his hand snaked out catching Wes' ankle and the two were on the ground in a flash. Blue uniform wet and muddied sliding against the laughing slippery wet young boy Barclay's hands grabbing whatever appendage was handy in his efforts to pin the brat rubbing himself hard against the smooth hairless body he easily pinned the arrogant little snot-nose face-first in the mud.
"Well, Wesley..." Barclay rubbed his clothed groin against the firm round crack of young Ensign Crusher's nether region.
Wesley giggled, even as Barclay leaned forward to keep Wes pinned down by the weight of his upper body as he lowered his soggy pants to let his hard penis spring forth, using his free hand to guide it between Wesley's pink firm cheeks, tapping against the virginal little brown button hidden therein.
"I've been wanting to to d-do this for a l-long time, you little... little BRAT!"
Barclay plunged his penis into Wesley's rectum; the lad squealed, impaled, as Barclay proceeded to ride his ass. He began humping back at the cock violating his hind quarter, moaning in youthful excess...
"Gee Broccoli, this is great... what do you call it?"
"COMPUTER! FREEZE PROGRAM."
Barclay continued cornholing young ensign Crusher. Having secured his program so that only he could access or stop it, he was at the moment oblivious to the presence of his commanding officer, lost in his lusty revenge fantasy.
"CAPTAIN'S OVERRIDE!"
Barclay landed with a thud, the head of his penis slamming into the cold matrix grid of the holodeck floor howling in agony his pants around his hips his erection vanished rolling onto his back clutching his injured organ attempting to curl into a fetal position.
"Mr. Barclay..." his features etched in stone, so much control over his facial muscles that it was difficult to move his jaw enough to speak, Jean Luc Picard spat his words out very carefully.
"Consider yourself on report. Mister. Barclay." Picard tugged meaningfully at the bottom of his uniform shirt.
Barclay lay with his knees drawn to his chest, his buttocks exposed, his genitals clutched protectively, his eyes squeezed tightly shut rolling desperately from side to side.
"You are relieved from duty until I get a complete report from Counselor Troi."
Picard stood for a stiff moment as Barclay continued to writhe...
"Perhaps..." he allowed the faintest twitch of his right cheek muscle to betray his emotions. "You had better report to sick-bay first and explain to Dr. Crusher the nature of your... "accident".
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