In Secret: An Erotic TNG Tale
Posted: Sun May 10, 2020 3:56 am
Title: In Secret: An Erotic TNG Tale
Show: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Pairing: Jean-Luc Picard/Beverly Crusher
Rating: M
Chapters: 1/8
WARNINGS: References to an implied non-consent from the events of the episode “Sub Rosa.”
Description/Background: This is a post-episode story for the Season 7 TNG episode “Sub Rosa,” and is mostly pure smut, but there are a number of TNG references within, especially the history of Jean-Luc Picard & Beverly Crusher’s decades-long friendship. You don’t need to be a TNG fan to read this, but you might appreciate it more if you are! There are strong tease & denial elements, masturbation, oral sex, etc. Feedback is much appreciated!
“IN SECRET”
“Captain's log, supplemental. Commander La Forge and Mister Data have recovered from their exposure to the anaphasic energy, but I'm afraid Doctor Crusher's recovery will be of a more personal nature.”
Chapter 1: “Desire is the fire in which he burns…”
Two Days after the incident on Caldos II…
Sweet honeysuckle and smooth musk. That’s what it was, Jean-Luc Picard thought to himself as he attempted to get to sleep for the third time that evening. Honeysuckle and smooth musk. It invaded his senses, tormented him, teasing with its delectable aroma. Honeysuckle and smooth musk. He would never sleep again.
“Damn!” he rasped, throwing off the bed sheets and sitting up. He was only in his robe, not even bothering with any undergarments. Throbbing against the soft material, his cock ached, recalling the recent events that sent him whirling into sweet torment.
She was bathed in candlelight, wearing a light, soft robe and a silk nightgown that rode up her thighs. Her toes were curled, her back arching, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders. Her face was flushed and glowing, her beautiful mouth open and moaning in pure pleasure. Better than any of his previous fantasies. He had walked in on her like this, and though he tried to be a gentleman and look away, his eyes were drawn back to that delectable sight.
Picard fisted his bed sheets. “Beverly,” he sighed, aching for her as much as he had when her husband Jack Crusher was alive. Then, too, he had dreams of the beautiful doctor who had unwittingly and unintentionally stolen his heart, and felt shame for indulging in those thoughts as he sought out his release on his own. But this - what he felt now – this was different – it was worse.
“I will not give in,” he thought to himself, refusing to seek a quick release with his hand. It would be wrong, perverted even. Ronin – an anaphasic life form - had violated Beverly, infusing her with a powerful energy that stimulated the pleasure centers of the brain. She had fought him at first, as her report stated – but this energy-sucking life form persisted, as he apparently had with many of the women in her family before her. Picard knew about being influenced by exterior forces – the Borg, the Cardassians – it may have been different circumstances, but he knew what it meant to not be in control of your own faculties. People had died because he was not strong enough to resist the Borg – at least Beverly had been able to resist in the end of her plight and save them all.
"You'll never be good enough for her," Picard heard a voice say inside his head - shocked to realize it was his own. This entity that had attacked her had also given her some of the most intense pleasures of her life, according to Beverly. And the fact that he knew this brought him more shame – for it wasn’t in the official report. Rather, he had accessed Counselor Deana Troi’s files – a breach of trust and protocol to be sure. Perhaps the entity had affected him as well, Picard thought, because he had never done anything like this before. But he needed to know what had driven Beverly to leave behind her career, the Enterprise, her friends – and Picard himself. Had he not gone to the house on Caldos II that night, Ronin may have trapped her on the planet indefinitely. Now it was two days later – and only four days after the death of her grandmother, who was her only caregiver growing up following her parents’ death. She’d had a hard life that he seldom acknowledged, simply taking for granted her strength and goodness. He was scared for what she was going through, and wanted to make sure she was alright. Yet he knew there was a part of him that wanted to know every damn detail – he was not totally honorable. And everything that was happening to him now was his own damn fault.
Beverly had been completely honest and thorough when recounting the events for the counselor, and just reading her words had driven him mad with need for her. She spoke of how Ronin knew just where and how to touch her. Picard had nearly choked on his Earl Grey tea as he read the excruciatingly detailed account:
“It began with a fluttering touch over my nipples, then a suckle, building the ache between my thighs. Then a light, flicking pressure over my clitoris. When I resisted, the sensations became bolder, stronger – what felt like three tongues attacked at once – one circling my vaginal entrance, entering me; the other flicking over my clitoris; and the third teasing my labia minora in what felt like a light tickle. The suckling on my breasts intensified. The combination was impossible to resist. On and on the tongues persisted, agitating my flesh, and I couldn’t make it stop. There was nothing there, and yet I felt it. I reached a precipice and was held there, aching, until my body could take no more and gave in to the pleasure. It was like a drug, addictive and overwhelming. Eventually the tongue inside me retreated, to be replaced by a firmer, thicker touch. He entered me, and the phallus touched deep inside my most vulnerable points, bringing me to orgasm again and again, making me endure the most terrible pleasures I had ever experienced. By the time I met Ronin in my quarters, I was shaking, jumpy, like an addict who desperately needed a fix. This entity formed a bond, an attachment, I couldn’t shake.”
Picard wanted to pleasure her to the point where she couldn't imagine leaving him - but it was all too complicated. Not for his cock, however, which throbbed and demanded attention. His hips were bucking involuntarily as he recalled discovering Beverly in ecstasy. The smell of her arousal, the sight of her arched at the peak of pleasure, it was a cruel torture.
"Ohhh, nooo," Picard groaned, lying on his stomach, his cock desperate for the friction of his silk sheets.
To add to his torment, Beverly had written about how she eventually overcame the being and it melted his heart:
“When I saw Jean-Luc standing there, seeing me in my most vulnerable state, engaging in the act, I felt ashamed, but also relieved – I truly believe it was my love for him - and, when he was attacked, my sheer determination to save his life - that broke me free of Ronin’s spell.”
She loved him. He knew that, but he also knew her fears – that he would break her heart because of his guilt and possessiveness. The woman he loved for nearly 25 years loved him back – and her desire to save him made her turn her back on all that pleasure. She was so giving, so beautiful, so …
“DAMN!” Picard yelled, his cock aching even more. It was all too much to bear – he wanted her, desperately – wanted to know what it felt like to be inside her when she was in such a ravenous state.
Picard could stand it no longer, and his years of self-discipline fell away as he began to hump the bed in earnest, imagining he was inside her, making her moan, feeling her wet pussy gripping him sensually. "Beverly," he moaned, giving up and giving in, his hips working faster and faster to relieve the desperate ache. He needed to cum. "Please, please," he whimpered, pushing down harder, confusion setting in...then he cursed, knowing what was happening. How could he have forgotten…
Last night, he'd activated the blocker. It was a device men often used to prevent premature ejaculation, something Picard had struggled with in his later years, much to his embarrassment. His cock was thick and a decent length of 6 inches, but he was always very shy during sex, submissive even, an attentive lover and often nervous about disappointing his partner. He was also uncut and extremely sensitive. A firm touch one particular vein on the underside of his cockhead would set him off in a heartbeat. Sex was so seldom for him that it was often overwhelming. So he had procured the blocker from Dr. Selas (the only male doctor on board) to help his performance - he wondered if Beverly had found out about it.
Right now, Picard was a desperate man, and wished he hadn't been so damn noble in his intentions when he activated the blocker. He did it to punish himself - to keep him from getting off on thoughts of Beverly being pleasure by the entity. Now the punishment was kicking in - no matter what he did, he couldn't orgasm. The blocker had a timer that had been set for one week - he hoped this foolishness would pass by then. One week to thrust and moan and writhe in agony over the memory of her taking her pleasure in front of him, unaware of his presence. He knew he couldn't cum, but he was tired and desperate, turning over to lie on his back as he stroked the underside of his cock faster and faster - he should have been cumming in seconds, but instead remained shaking on the edge of orgasm, denied his release.
"Oh God...oh God...ohhh," he cried, sobbing. "I need to...ohhh...I need to..." - He didn't hear the call button on his door ring as he finished his sentence "cum!"
At his words, the door to his quarters slid open. He heard a gasp - a decidedly feminine one. Whoever his visitor was had seen him - caught him in the act. His hairy chest covered in sweat and exposed, his cock red and throbbing in his hand.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Show: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Pairing: Jean-Luc Picard/Beverly Crusher
Rating: M
Chapters: 1/8
WARNINGS: References to an implied non-consent from the events of the episode “Sub Rosa.”
Description/Background: This is a post-episode story for the Season 7 TNG episode “Sub Rosa,” and is mostly pure smut, but there are a number of TNG references within, especially the history of Jean-Luc Picard & Beverly Crusher’s decades-long friendship. You don’t need to be a TNG fan to read this, but you might appreciate it more if you are! There are strong tease & denial elements, masturbation, oral sex, etc. Feedback is much appreciated!
“IN SECRET”
“Captain's log, supplemental. Commander La Forge and Mister Data have recovered from their exposure to the anaphasic energy, but I'm afraid Doctor Crusher's recovery will be of a more personal nature.”
Chapter 1: “Desire is the fire in which he burns…”
Two Days after the incident on Caldos II…
Sweet honeysuckle and smooth musk. That’s what it was, Jean-Luc Picard thought to himself as he attempted to get to sleep for the third time that evening. Honeysuckle and smooth musk. It invaded his senses, tormented him, teasing with its delectable aroma. Honeysuckle and smooth musk. He would never sleep again.
“Damn!” he rasped, throwing off the bed sheets and sitting up. He was only in his robe, not even bothering with any undergarments. Throbbing against the soft material, his cock ached, recalling the recent events that sent him whirling into sweet torment.
She was bathed in candlelight, wearing a light, soft robe and a silk nightgown that rode up her thighs. Her toes were curled, her back arching, her fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders. Her face was flushed and glowing, her beautiful mouth open and moaning in pure pleasure. Better than any of his previous fantasies. He had walked in on her like this, and though he tried to be a gentleman and look away, his eyes were drawn back to that delectable sight.
Picard fisted his bed sheets. “Beverly,” he sighed, aching for her as much as he had when her husband Jack Crusher was alive. Then, too, he had dreams of the beautiful doctor who had unwittingly and unintentionally stolen his heart, and felt shame for indulging in those thoughts as he sought out his release on his own. But this - what he felt now – this was different – it was worse.
“I will not give in,” he thought to himself, refusing to seek a quick release with his hand. It would be wrong, perverted even. Ronin – an anaphasic life form - had violated Beverly, infusing her with a powerful energy that stimulated the pleasure centers of the brain. She had fought him at first, as her report stated – but this energy-sucking life form persisted, as he apparently had with many of the women in her family before her. Picard knew about being influenced by exterior forces – the Borg, the Cardassians – it may have been different circumstances, but he knew what it meant to not be in control of your own faculties. People had died because he was not strong enough to resist the Borg – at least Beverly had been able to resist in the end of her plight and save them all.
"You'll never be good enough for her," Picard heard a voice say inside his head - shocked to realize it was his own. This entity that had attacked her had also given her some of the most intense pleasures of her life, according to Beverly. And the fact that he knew this brought him more shame – for it wasn’t in the official report. Rather, he had accessed Counselor Deana Troi’s files – a breach of trust and protocol to be sure. Perhaps the entity had affected him as well, Picard thought, because he had never done anything like this before. But he needed to know what had driven Beverly to leave behind her career, the Enterprise, her friends – and Picard himself. Had he not gone to the house on Caldos II that night, Ronin may have trapped her on the planet indefinitely. Now it was two days later – and only four days after the death of her grandmother, who was her only caregiver growing up following her parents’ death. She’d had a hard life that he seldom acknowledged, simply taking for granted her strength and goodness. He was scared for what she was going through, and wanted to make sure she was alright. Yet he knew there was a part of him that wanted to know every damn detail – he was not totally honorable. And everything that was happening to him now was his own damn fault.
Beverly had been completely honest and thorough when recounting the events for the counselor, and just reading her words had driven him mad with need for her. She spoke of how Ronin knew just where and how to touch her. Picard had nearly choked on his Earl Grey tea as he read the excruciatingly detailed account:
“It began with a fluttering touch over my nipples, then a suckle, building the ache between my thighs. Then a light, flicking pressure over my clitoris. When I resisted, the sensations became bolder, stronger – what felt like three tongues attacked at once – one circling my vaginal entrance, entering me; the other flicking over my clitoris; and the third teasing my labia minora in what felt like a light tickle. The suckling on my breasts intensified. The combination was impossible to resist. On and on the tongues persisted, agitating my flesh, and I couldn’t make it stop. There was nothing there, and yet I felt it. I reached a precipice and was held there, aching, until my body could take no more and gave in to the pleasure. It was like a drug, addictive and overwhelming. Eventually the tongue inside me retreated, to be replaced by a firmer, thicker touch. He entered me, and the phallus touched deep inside my most vulnerable points, bringing me to orgasm again and again, making me endure the most terrible pleasures I had ever experienced. By the time I met Ronin in my quarters, I was shaking, jumpy, like an addict who desperately needed a fix. This entity formed a bond, an attachment, I couldn’t shake.”
Picard wanted to pleasure her to the point where she couldn't imagine leaving him - but it was all too complicated. Not for his cock, however, which throbbed and demanded attention. His hips were bucking involuntarily as he recalled discovering Beverly in ecstasy. The smell of her arousal, the sight of her arched at the peak of pleasure, it was a cruel torture.
"Ohhh, nooo," Picard groaned, lying on his stomach, his cock desperate for the friction of his silk sheets.
To add to his torment, Beverly had written about how she eventually overcame the being and it melted his heart:
“When I saw Jean-Luc standing there, seeing me in my most vulnerable state, engaging in the act, I felt ashamed, but also relieved – I truly believe it was my love for him - and, when he was attacked, my sheer determination to save his life - that broke me free of Ronin’s spell.”
She loved him. He knew that, but he also knew her fears – that he would break her heart because of his guilt and possessiveness. The woman he loved for nearly 25 years loved him back – and her desire to save him made her turn her back on all that pleasure. She was so giving, so beautiful, so …
“DAMN!” Picard yelled, his cock aching even more. It was all too much to bear – he wanted her, desperately – wanted to know what it felt like to be inside her when she was in such a ravenous state.
Picard could stand it no longer, and his years of self-discipline fell away as he began to hump the bed in earnest, imagining he was inside her, making her moan, feeling her wet pussy gripping him sensually. "Beverly," he moaned, giving up and giving in, his hips working faster and faster to relieve the desperate ache. He needed to cum. "Please, please," he whimpered, pushing down harder, confusion setting in...then he cursed, knowing what was happening. How could he have forgotten…
Last night, he'd activated the blocker. It was a device men often used to prevent premature ejaculation, something Picard had struggled with in his later years, much to his embarrassment. His cock was thick and a decent length of 6 inches, but he was always very shy during sex, submissive even, an attentive lover and often nervous about disappointing his partner. He was also uncut and extremely sensitive. A firm touch one particular vein on the underside of his cockhead would set him off in a heartbeat. Sex was so seldom for him that it was often overwhelming. So he had procured the blocker from Dr. Selas (the only male doctor on board) to help his performance - he wondered if Beverly had found out about it.
Right now, Picard was a desperate man, and wished he hadn't been so damn noble in his intentions when he activated the blocker. He did it to punish himself - to keep him from getting off on thoughts of Beverly being pleasure by the entity. Now the punishment was kicking in - no matter what he did, he couldn't orgasm. The blocker had a timer that had been set for one week - he hoped this foolishness would pass by then. One week to thrust and moan and writhe in agony over the memory of her taking her pleasure in front of him, unaware of his presence. He knew he couldn't cum, but he was tired and desperate, turning over to lie on his back as he stroked the underside of his cock faster and faster - he should have been cumming in seconds, but instead remained shaking on the edge of orgasm, denied his release.
"Oh God...oh God...ohhh," he cried, sobbing. "I need to...ohhh...I need to..." - He didn't hear the call button on his door ring as he finished his sentence "cum!"
At his words, the door to his quarters slid open. He heard a gasp - a decidedly feminine one. Whoever his visitor was had seen him - caught him in the act. His hairy chest covered in sweat and exposed, his cock red and throbbing in his hand.
TO BE CONTINUED…
