From robinl@s054.aone.net.au Sun Aug 09 13:52:27 1998 Path: news5.ispnews.com!hub1.ispnews.com!news11.ispnews.com!news1.ispnews.com!dca1-hub1.news.digex.net!digex!newsfeed.internetmci.com!207.217.77.43!newsfeed1.earthlink.net!nntp.earthlink.net!alexas From: "Robin Lawrie" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Subject: NEW: Happy Birthday, Mary Sue, RL/AU, Mr Johnny/Q, Ruth, [NC17] 1/1 Date: Sun, 09 Aug 1998 13:52:27 -0700 Organization: EarthLink Network, Inc. Lines: 461 Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: NNTP-Posting-Host: pool024-max8.ds8-ca-us.dialup.earthlink.net 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: news5.ispnews.com alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:10060 Subject: NEW: Happy Birthday, Mary Sue, RL/AU, Mr Johnny/Q, Ruth, [NC17] 1/1 Date: Sun, 9 Aug 1998 16:41:49 +1000 From: "Robin Lawrie" To: "ascem" ======= Happy Birthday, Mary Sue. ======= By Robin Lawrie robinl@s054.aone.net.au www.home.aone.net.au/what4 Aug, 1998 RL/AU, Mr Johnny/Q, Ruth, [NC17] Here's a little birthday present from me to Ruth. I didn't intend posting it so I took a few liberties. But Ruth assured me(as did atara) that it was fine with them to post. Don't archive it please. Summary: Mr Johnny thanks his favourite slash writer personally. ======================================= The black limo cruises to a slow stop outside the ordinary suburban house. It waits, the doors closed, the engine still running. The front door of the house opens and there's Ruth looking extremely butch (shorts, Giants tee shirt, no bra, Birkenstocks) taking out the trash on a Sunday afternoon. She looks up and sees the car. 'Fuck!' Not making any sudden moves she places the trash down and backs away into the house. 'atara! Have you pissed anyone off recently?' She closes the door and bolts it. 'Me? You're asking *me*?' Comes the muffled reply from the study. 'Do we own a weapon?' 'Ruth! I've got these papers to grade. Later, OK?' 'Bugger.' Ruth is torn between arming herself with the Franklin Mint replica of Xena's chakram (atara would *kill* her), her favourite Thuddy Thing, or the standard kitchen knife. Throwing caution to the wind she goes for all of the above. Just as she finishes securing the chakram to her belt with the gaffer tape, there is a knock at the door. 'Can you get that Ruth? I'm on line.' 'Stay right where you are, atara. I'll save us.' 'What? What the hell are talking about? Have you been watching my Herc eps again?' For some odd reason, as Ruth approaches the front door, she hears strange music. A fast paced guitar solo, that sounds hip, but in a sinister kind of way. Through the frosted glass of the door, she can see two silhouettes. One tall, one short. Both wearing hats. Mormons? She adjusts her grip on the thuddy thing, and taking a deep breath, opens the door a crack. 'Yes?' Both visitors are wearing well tailored, black suits, white shirts, black ties, black hats and dark glasses. The smaller one is obviously a woman. No suit, no matter how well tailored could hide a set of tits like that. Her hair is pulled back tightly. She glances behind her, and then at her companion. Her partner is tall, and wide across the shoulders. His dark skin is sweaty on the exposed slice of neck above his collar. His hands are huge and folded over each other to the front. His face is obscured by a hat pulled well down. He nods to his partner, then jerks his head towards the cautious eye at the door. The suited woman addresses the well armed householder. 'Ruth Gifford?' 'Could be. Who are you?' 'Come with us, please.' 'No, I don't think so.' She goes to close the door, but a large brown hand falls palm first against it, and with steady relentless pressure pushes the door open. 'I'm sensing reluctance here.' The black suited woman's voice is softly accented. Foreign, but familiar. 'Resistance is futile.' The deep bass voice grumbled from under the big man's hat. He glances into the hallway. 'Nice house.' 'Do I know you people?' One hand on the chakram, and the other holding the thuddy thing in her sweaty palm (the kitchen knife is the holdout, tucked into the back of her shorts), Ruth backs down the hall. The woman, able to see Ruth's remarkable casual attire in full for the first time, takes a moment to lift her jaw back into place. 'Um yes. You should actually. Look, I'm being polite. I'm asking nicely. Just put the weapons down and come with us.' 'Where?' 'To see a man.' 'Like *that's* an incentive? What's his name?' The big man glances at his offsider, then shrugs. The woman sighs. 'Mr Johnny.' 'I don't know any... what? What did you say?' 'Mr Johnny.' 'Fuck.' Ruth wipes her sweaty palms on the stained shorts. She is feeling a little spaced out. She mustn't have heard right. Best check. 'Um, does he have an "associate" called Q?" 'Well of *course* he does Ruth! Now quit mucking around and get in the god damned car!' The woman's hands are on her hips and she's leaning over spitting words at Ruth's face. She's either very brave or very stupid. Or well armed. Ruth decides it is the last one. 'Can I get changed?' 'No.' She turns to the big man. 'Bring her.' 'You will come with me.' The man takes a step behind her, deftly flicking the kitchen knife to the ground, briskly running a hand over and under her clothes, seeking further concealed weapons, then takes her elbow in a large, hard hand. 'Come.' 'ATARA!' 'In a minute! Just start without me.' The door closes. The limo pulls away. ************ Ruth sat in the back of the car, picking at the gaffer tape still stuck to her shorts. OK, lets add up here. I'm in a car, heading fuck knows where, with two nasty psycho types who look like a cross between the Blues Brothers and a Tarantino movie, I'm supposed to be meeting Mr Johnny, and I'm wearing shorts. Her bottom lip stuck out and considered trembling. Hmmmpf. They could at least have let me change. She tapped on the glass partition. 'Excuse me? Troi?' The window slid open. 'How did you know my name?' 'Lucky guess. Are we there yet?' 'Listen *sweety*, you ask me that one more time and...' she fumbled in her jacket and pulled out a large hand gun. She waved it in Ruth's general direction. 'OK, OK, just asking. Hey Worf. Are we there yet?' 'Grrrrrrrrrrrr.' 'Oooo, growl for me. Eaten any good books lately?' 'You know Q?' 'Oh yeah. We go back a long way.' 'Then I would advise you to remember your manners.' A large hand left the steering wheel and slammed the window closed. Ruth sat back and checked out the limo's bar fridge. Fully stocked! Now that was convenient. The other compartments in the drinks cabinet were stocked with other "refreshments". As the car sped towards town, the casually dressed woman placed her Birkenstocks on the leather upholstery and decided to indulge herself in some high quality pharmaceuticals. ********* The car cruised into the warehouse district at a slow crawl. On either side of the narrow, trash strewn alley, tall, red brick walls gave the feeling of travelling in a maze. The long car made a sharp turn at last towards a roller door entrance. The woman, Troi, reached for a remote control on the dash board and beeped it. The roller door rattled upwards, and the car slid into the darkened warehouse. Ruth rubbed her face, trying to get some feeling back into it. Mr Johnny kept good gear. At least it made the long drive more interesting. Her door opened, and Troi beckoned her out. 'Are we there yet?' 'Yes. Mr Johnny will see you now.' Ruth climbed out and stood unsteadily beside the car. It was getting a little scary now. The two black suited henchmen got back into the car and reversed out. The door rolled shut, leaving the woman alone in the echoing space, surrounded by stacked containers, and lit only by a dim skylight. She could hear a tap dripping. 'Hello? Mr Johnny?' 'Don't move, don't turn around and don't talk.' There was an arm around her neck and the cold blade of a knife against her ear. She hadn't heard a thing, but she knew that voice. 'Please, Q. I don't think she'll be any problem.' She knew *that* voice too. Anyone would. It came from behind one of the containers ahead. She heard the sound of a struck match, and watched a stream of blue grey smoke give away the man's location. Then Mr Johnny made his entrance. He stepped into the middle of the cold concrete floor, his white suit almost glowing, his coat hanging over his shoulders and a cigarette in a long holder held between his thin fingers. He walked nearer his guest, standing so close that Ruth was wrapped in the grey swirls of cigarette smoke that twisted and hung in the still air. She felt the arm tighten against her neck and something else. It was the hard, insistent pressure of a blunt body part against the small of her back. She could understand that. 'I don't trust her, boss.' 'Release her, and come here.' Instantly the arm dropped from around her neck and she heard the *snick* of a knife being retracted. Q moved into place one step behind Mr Johnny, his hands shoved deep into his black jeans pockets and a nonchalant slouch to his bare shoulders. With a twitch, he dragged a broken nail across his exposed chest as if to scratch an old itch, but in reality using it as an excuse to run fingers over his erect nipple. Picard sucked deeply on his cigarette as his eyes examined the woman before him. Ruth squirmed. Why didn't they let her change?! 'So sorry. I trust you had a pleasant trip?' 'Er, yeah. Thanks.' 'Good. You're probably wondering why I had you bought here.' Ruth nodded. If only he wasn't standing so damned close. She could feel Q's eyes boring into her, hostile and dismissive. 'Well. A friend reminded me recently of all the *interesting* things that you've had Q and I get up to. *Most* of which I am very grateful.' He flicked ash from the cigarette. It landed on her boot. 'Some things, I'm not so pleased about. But be that as it may, you have made my life...' he considered his words carefully, '... a step above the ordinary. In a small way, I'd like to give something back.' He smiled and Ruth felt more than a little dizzy. Was it only the drugs? 'Gee, well I do my best.' 'Yes. You do.' Picard held out his cigarette and Q smothered it with his fist, closing it round the still glowing tip. 'Make our guest comfortable, Q. Find her a seat.' Q grabbed Ruth's hand and dragged her over to a pile of boxes. In one smooth action, he hoisted her up and placed her gently on the top box, and patting her bare knee with a lingering touch. 'Happy?' 'Sure. What's going on?' she hissed. 'A demonstration.' 'Cool!' Picard waited to see Ruth settled. 'Q!' 'Yes Mr Johnny?' 'Bring one of those boxes over here.' 'Yes Mr Johnny.' Q dragged the waist high wooden crate over to his boss, then waited for orders. Ruth sat cross legged on her perch, watching with some anticipation. A demonstration? Hey, a learning experience was nothing to knock back. Picard shrugged his coat into Q's hands, then waited while it was carefully folded onto the box. 'Come here, Q.' 'Yes, boss.' Picard looked across at Ruth as smiled, then gave his attention to the tall man before him. He reached up and grabbed his face between his hands and drew him down for a kiss. Q's hands hung loose at his side, but as the kiss progressed, they began to twitch and curl. Picard ended the kiss, and ran his hands down from Q's face, down his neck, down his shoulders, down his bare chest and stomach until they reached his tight jeans. Q's erection was obvious. Picard held one hand over the straining bulge as he leaned over to take one of Q's nipples between his teeth, rolling it round, pulling it out from his chest. Q swayed into the hand at his crotch and groaned. Picard glanced over at his visitor, his teeth still fixed to the nipple. Seeing that he had Ruth's full attention, he grabbed Q's arms, took a deep breath and bit down hard. Q threw back his head and hissed. Picard finally released his grip, and Ruth could plainly see the set of teeth marks at first white, then turning red surrounding the reddened nub. 'Take your pants off Q, and bend over the box.' 'Yes Mr Johnny.' Q dropped his pants quickly, releasing the long hard erection. He braced his hands on the rough wooden crate and spread his legs wide. And waited. Mr Johnny moved close and ran a hand down Q's back and over his butt, the fingers sliding in and along the dark crack. 'Can you see from there, Ruth?' Ruth nodded. He expected her to speak? She didn't think it was possible right now. 'Good.' Picard knelt down behind Q, ignoring the stains to his white pants from the filthy concrete floor. He placed a hand on either butt cheek and spread them. Ruth could see Q's arse hole tense and relax in expectation. Picard made him wait, enjoying the sight, but then leaned in to probe the twitching hole with his tongue. Q's fingers went white as they gripped the box, his shoulders shaking. Picard's head bobbed as he worked his tongue in and out, poking first then hard flat licks from balls to arse hole. Ruth fidgeted on her seat. Finally, Picard finished his play. Q's hole was well and truly loosened, and ready for other activities. Picard unbuttoned his pants and stroked his erect cock with a palmful of lube. 'Ready Q?' 'Yes Mr Johnny.' 'Don't come until I say.' 'Yes Mr Johnny.' 'Ready Ruth?' 'Yes Mr Johnny.' 'Don't come until I say.' 'Yes Mr Johnny.' He slid into Q's butt with the ease of long practise. With slow even strokes, he pumped Q, holding the thin hips between his hands. Q groaned and pushed back on every stroke, the two of them working together, and Ruth could see them both relishing fucking and being fucked. The tempo increased, the grip on Q's hips got hard, then white knuckled hard. Picard turned his head, sweat running down his face. 'Ruth! Come here, stand next to me. Wait.' She jumped down from her perch and stumbled over next to the heaving couple. She could smell the blokey smell of two men fucking and hear the slapping sucking noise of a hard cock driving deep into an arsehole. Q's arse hole. Picard's cock. Picard acknowledged her presence with a nod, them shifted an arm up under Q's armpit and hauled the man upright. Ruth could see the glistening drops of precum on the end of Q's cock. The man was ready. 'Ruth, you can do the honours. Tell q. Tell him he can come.' Picard slammed the man back down on the box and redoubled his efforts. Ruth leaned down and placed her lips close to the grunting man's ear. 'q? Ready?' She copped an eyeful of spite and desire, but it quickly passed as his head bowed and nodded. 'Then you can come for me now.' A cry ripped from Q's lips as he covered the front of the crate with cum. Picard grunted and came, shuddering against the well muscled back of his friend. Ruth steadied herself with a hand against the crate. Too fucking good. ********** 'Ruth... Ruth!' 'Can I come now?' 'That must be a bloody good dream. Wake up!' Ruth opened her eyes. She was lying on the lounge. Her lounge. In her house. Atara was leaning over her and smiling. 'That was no dream. I just saw Picard and Q fuck!' 'Oh yeah?' 'And Worf and Deanna drove me to this warehouse in a limo and Picard, I mean Mr Johnny had the white suit on and he licked Q out first, and then I got to tell Q when to come and...' 'Have you been into the painkillers again?' 'No! Well, I did have something in the limo, but I swear, it wasn't much, just enough to take an edge off. I think. Maybe.' She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. 'It was a dream?' 'Guess so.' Atara frowned, then glanced around the room. 'Do you hear something? Like guitar music. Hip, but kind of sinister.' There was a knock at the door. **************** **************** _____________________________________________________________________ Posting to ASCEM is easy--just send your messages to To subscribe or unsubscribe to the mirror list **and for ALL other list-related inquiries** contact Anne, ListGoddess