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Picard's Ultimate Fantasy

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Successful voyages are few and far between on the USS Enterprise. Aside from making contact with new alien species, which happens frequently, things almost never go according to plan. After successfully planting a colony on an uninhabited planet, and making peaceable contact with the inhabitants of another, it seems the Enterprise and its crew are having a good streak of things going right. So naturally, Captain Picard decides to hit the holodeck to celebrate, leaving Data at the helm.

"Sir, we're on course for Sorak XII, and there is a high probability of encountering space pirates, I'm not entirely sure that this is a good time for you to-"

"It's alright, Data, I'm sure everything will be just fine. You're not the captain, yet, though you might be in command. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Picard slyly smiles.

Data nods, a blank stare devoid of feeling or thought, but underneath is a series of integers that formulated into the equation that says Picard was making a mistake. He wouldn't say anything more, though, because he wouldn't challenge the captain's authority. It wasn't in his code. He sat in the captain's chair, Geordi by one side and Worf by the other. Riker was on vacation with his husband, Walter Skinner. We'll save that for another story. Just kidding, we won't save it at all.

"Keep straight on course," he said, visibly unused to being in this position, but he smiled a little. Despite not being programmed to feel human emotion, he had a grasp of the concept of excitement.

Picard entered the holodeck, looking over his shoulder nervously. He locked the door behind him so that it could only be opened back with facial recognition. The simulation loaded around him. It was a stage, somewhere in America, a huge stage, and the only person in the entire stadium was him. Thousands of empty seats all around, as he walked nearer to the stage, down a flight of stairs, and out into the grass in front. This was where people would stand to watch the band perform. And he was going to watch them. And they were going to play, just for him. His heart was racing like a little schoolgirl in love as he twirled his fingers through his newfound locks of hair, appropriate to the time period he had set himself in. What time period was that? Late 1977, and what band was he so excited to see? Only his favorite band in the whole of recorded history, throughout space and across all the many worlds he'd visited. They were a band that sonically had captured something no other band had ever captured since, and he thought, none ever would. And there they were, as they walked out on stage just like they did many centuries ago. The singer adjusted his sunglasses over his big nose, seating himself at his keyboard, smiling directly at Picard.

"Any requests?" he said with a nasal Jersey accent.

Picard stood there in awe that his favorite singer was talking to him directly.

"We don't usually do requests, do we, Walt? Tonight we're making an exception."The bearded man with the guitar slowly shook his head no, blank-faced. Picard eyed the bearded man up and down, a tingle going down his spine and in his naughty places. The captain of the Enterprise was melting where he stood, blushing and swooning over these two men. And of course, the rest of the band too, but mostly just these two.

"Well isn't that just lovely," Walter snickered at the blushing man. "Should we do it, Don?"

Donald smirked. He hit the first chords on the keyboard, like a jazzy hammer to a nail. Those drums kicked in behind him, a hard thud pounding in time. The horns and Walter's guitar cut and weaved around the sound. Donald began to sing- the greatest voice of all time.


I know this superhighway, this bright familiar sun,

I guess that I'm the lucky one


Picard unzipped his pants and began to masturbate while they played their song, stroking his cock to the Purdie shuffle. You could tell that Donald Fagen was impressed by his length, by the look in his gray-blue eyes. Well, actually you couldn't because his glasses were pitch black. But what happened next is even more amazing. Donald whipped out his own dick, which was thicker but not as long as Picard's, and started playing the keyboard with it. 

Walter approached Donald and began to poke the end of his guitar up Donald's exposed ass, as they both wanted to give Picard the best show of his life. This was Picard's ultimate fantasy. Out of nowhere, the most unexpected thing happened.  The whole simulation shutdown. Everything went black. But then it booted back up- only now, the walls and the floor and the ceiling were just multiple dimensions of Q's face.

"GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!" Picard cried out, his filthy British heritage showing, as he curled up into the fetal position on the floor- which was now Q's mouth, his cock shriveling up in fear. Q smiled wide, his eyes bright and joyful.


Q began to laugh maniacally.

"I've taken over the ship. And, I've decided. It's been fun, but now I'm going to have to kill all of you."

Picard sobbed. "Why Q? What have we ever done to you? Why have you chosen to torment us, like a cat to a mouse, and then devour us? Why have we, such insignificant ants, fallen prey to you, your majestic holiness?"

Q had his nose turned up with a wide grin as Picard continued to whine and sob, begging and pleading for his life.

"Oh, such flattery. But it won't get you anywhere. You've made your choice. You know full well what you've done."

Picard got on his hands and knees, his flaccid cock and balls jiggling as he crawled closer to the projection of Q, placing his hands on his giant cheeks.  "Tell me... please tell me what I've done wrong... How can I make it up to you?"

Q scoffed. "You really don't know, do you?"

Picard shook his head no rapidly like a confused little kid.

"You chose Steely Dan over me. NOW BE GONE."

Q's expression turned sour. Everything began to shake rapidly. Outside the holodeck, Data had been frozen in his seat, as had the rest of Starfleet. The ship was going down, faster than warp speed, spiraling deeper and deeper into the bottomless pits of space. Who knows where it would end?

Suddenly! A gasp. Captain Kirk sat up in bed. "Oh dear God- I've had that nightmare again!" His heart was pounding in his chest. He shook the person sleeping beside him, his lover.

"What the hell is it now, Jim...?" his lover said in a dreary, sleepy voice.

"It was awful, this time there was a really campy looking god... and Steely Dan... they, existed..."

Kirk was shaking.

"Oh, no... Jim..." Spock sighed.

"It's okay. How many times do I have to tell you? There is no such thing as godlike entities that could kill the entire crew of the Enterprise through telepathy, and there was never a band called Steely Dan."

Jim sighed in relief. Spock cuddled him, rubbing his plump, round belly.

"Everything's okay," Spock said reassuringly, patting Jim on the head.

"Want me to do the Vulcan pinch so you can go back to sleep?"

"Yeah, please..."

The words started echoing throughout the whole ship, louder than anything that had ever been heard before.

"There was never a band called Steely Dan, there was never a band called Steely Dan, there was never a band called Steely Dan, there was never a band called Steely Dan-"

Suddenly another louder gasp, and a scream! Ronnie sat up in bed. Her best friend turned to her, confused.

"What's wrong baby?!"

"Oh... nothing... I had a nightmare... it was the worst one I've ever had..."

Cody hugged her tightly.

"Oh, baby... tell me all about it sweetheart."

They stared into each other's eyes, as Cody stroked her cheek.

"I had a nightmare that Steely Dan didn't exist..."

Cody snorted, smiling. "That does sound like the worst nightmare ever."

They both laughed and then they ate each other's noses.