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Holodeck Fantasy #1: Barclay and Wesley (mm)


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Holodeck Fantasy #1

by Mark E. Dassad
© 1993 the author

================================================================

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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