The Amazing Messenger
New member
Sitting in the outer office, Q surreptitiously wiped his sweaty palms on his
pants. He hated these things. What more could he say but that he hadn't lied
on his resume and that he wanted to work for the company? He'd been working
on his handshake and smile. What more was there? And why was it taking so
long? He'd gotten here on time (well, a few minutes early), and he was just
sitting here and sitting here.
"Mr. Q?" the secretary asked. "Mr. Picard will see you now."
She gave him a lipsticky smile as he walked through to the office.
Wood paneling, something of a walk to the black vinyl chairs in front of Mr.
Picard's imposing desk. The supervisor looked up welcomingly at Q's approach
and invited him to shake his hand and sit down.
Q contained the small shiver that ran through him. What a voice! Nice grip on
that handshake as well.
"Well, I see you have a great deal of experience working with computers," that
voice said. "In fact, you seem well qualified in many ways. Indeed, there's
no reason for you not to know that I've yet to find such an attractive
candidate for this position."
"Thank you, Mr. Picard."
"Oh, please. It's Jean-Luc."
"That's French, isn't it?"
"Yes. What's 'Q?'"
"Uh, Italian."
Picard raised an eyebrow.
"Northern Italian."
"I see." Picard was looking over his resume now. Q became aware of an
overwhelming desire to scratch his own nose. "You realize that in this
position you will be working directly under me?"
"Yes, sir."
Picard smiled faintly. "You have no problem with that?"
Q was confused. "Of course not, sir."
"I'm glad to hear it." Picard set down the resume and looked at Q carefully,
eyes slightly narrowed. Q began to feel uncomfortable.
"Is something wrong?"
"No." Picard drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk. "I was just
wondering if you're really as qualified as you look."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that I can't really judge things from here."
"Would you like to see me in action? On the computer?"
"In action would be good." Picard stood up from the desk and Q stood as well,
looking around for a computer. The man laughed. "You really are new at this,
aren't you?"
Q looked increasingly puzzled. His wool suit felt horribly hot and his palms
were moist again. "I don't understand."
"So I'm beginning to realize." Picard's hazel eyes began to glitter, and Q
began to guess at what was going on. His sense of righteousness and
indignation battled with his finances. He really needed this job. It was so
convenient, and the benefits were great. Now that he had Mrs. Q and the two
baby Qs to support, he needed a steady source of income.
But this wasn't to be tolerated. This sort of thing was illegal!
"I don't believe you should be talking to me like this," Q said with only half
the forcefulness he had planned.
Picard actually laughed. "Come now. We all do things we strictly shouldn't, I
believe. We're both adults here. Life is made up of compromises and
understandings. We could have quite a comfortable bargain between us. It's a
good job, and you'll find me to be a very...understanding boss." The deep
voice dropped just slightly. "You really are extremely attractive. Your
mouth is quite extraordinary."
Q tried diplomacy. "I'm sure your position here gives you access to all sorts
of people who would be willing to do...whatever you want. This is a very big
company..."
"And if you're thinking you can apply to another department," Picard growled,
"I think you should know that my evaluation will be available to anyone who
wishes it. One wrong word from me, and I think I can guarantee that you will
not only not be hired here, but nowhere else in this city."
Q shook inside. Picard's name had been the first he'd heard when he came to
town, and he'd heard it several times since. The man wasn't bluffing about
the power he wielded. The dark eyes dropped their gaze to the floor.
"What," said very small, "do you want?"
"You really are lovely," Picard purred now, a strong hand coming up to rest on
Q's shoulder. "I think we're going to get along fine." The hand was pressing
down now, and Q knew what was expected of him.
He sank to his knees carefully, reluctantly, thinking of the role which he was
expected to perform in his life. So many people were depending on him.
Perhaps in time he could get promoted away from this, or perhaps a transfer.
Picard would surely get bored with him in time
Q saw with surprise that his hands were actually shaking as he brought them up
to the opening of Picard's pants. Carefully, he lowered the zipper and
reached inside.
"Oh, yes," Picard murmured. "That's it. Nice and slow. You're such a pretty
thing. Take me in your mouth and suck me."
Picard was big and hard as a rock, Q saw, bringing out his penis and evaluating
the job ahead of him. He licked the soft tip and couldn't help responding to
the power of Picard's shivers by growing slightly hard himself. Slowly,
knowing this would all be pointless if he didn't do this right, Q took the
head in his mouth and pressed his lips down along the sides, sucking gently,
then hard, then gently again. He kept his teeth away from the thin silk of
him, swirling his tongue around, while his hands held back the material of his
pants and fingered his warm balls.
"Oh, yes. Yes. That's it. You're so good." Picard was rocking his hips now,
thrusting into him, and Q, noting that he did not grab him by the head, took
him in all the way, massaging him with his mouth and throat, and Picard's
groans grew louder and more indistinct. Q felt the man's sac tighten and
sucked even harder and Picard came in hot spurts down his throat. Q swallowed
and swallowed, holding him inside until the man slumped forward. When it was
clear that Picard was quite finished, Q released him and stood. Picard's
smile was almost rueful as he noticed Q's erection, and he went to say
something when Q smiled.
Unpleasantly.
"So do I get the job now?" Q asked clearly.
A little puzzled, Picard nevertheless nodded and fastened up his pants. "I'd
say you were immanently qualified," he smirked.
Q nodded and brought something out of his pocket. A badge, Picard saw, his
face going a little pale.
"Department of Internal Affairs," Q announced. "We've had a complaint about
you, Mr. Picard."
"I don't...I don't..."
"Did you really think you could abuse your authority so flagrantly and no one
would notice? The company has never stood for this sort of thing, and I'm
going to take personal satisfaction in seeing to it that you receive the
maximum penalty under both company policy and state law."
"I don't...please, can't we..."
Q sneered "How the mighty have fallen, Mr. Picard."
The man looked at him desperately. "Isn't there something we can do? Isn't
there something you want? My job is everything to me."
"Something I want?"
"Yes! If you don't destroy me, I could help you in Internal Affairs. I know
the director very well."
I'm happy with my career as it is."
"I have some money put away..."
"I'm not interested in your money."
"Please," Picard was pleading openly now. "Isn't there something? I'll do
anything."
"Anything?"
"Yes."
Q smiled again and stepped back towards the desk. Swinging his right arm, he
pushed everything on it to the floor: a cascade of post-it notes and
telephones and pens and ledgers. Meeting Picard's wide eyes, Q jerked his
head to the flat, bare surface. Picard gulped.
Q snorted. "I don't have all day."
"Er," Picard said. "Just like that?"
Q crossed his arms and sighed. Picard took the chance and sprinted into his
private bathroom, coming back out a moment later holding a small tube. He
handed the tube to Q, dropped his pants and bent over his desk.
"Spread your legs wider," Q instructed, looking over the tube. Nice thick
lubricant. Picard complied, trembling. Q walked behind him, and Picard heard
the sound of unfastened pants. Long fingers quickly and efficiently prepared
him.
Picard groaned at the heat from those fingers, and Q laughed. "If I didn't
know better, I'd say you wanted me to fuck you."
Uncertain of his role, Picard settled for sheer honesty. "I do."
"How much?"
"Desperately."
Q chuckled and reached a warm, oily hand around Picard's hip to find the
erection pressing against the cool desk.
"We're going to be working in this building together for some time," Q said as
he got into position and began to press himself inside the man's tight ass.
It felt so good. "And we'll be seeing each other a lot."
"Ohhhhh," Picard said.
"If you expect me to keep quiet about you, I expect you to behave yourself."
"Oh, yes. Yes, sir."
Q was in all the way now, and he rested there a moment, buried inside Picard,
his cock pounding out the human rhythm of desire. The man stirred, almost a
protest against the waiting, and Q pressed down against his back, stilling
him.
"I want to know that I can come in here anytime I want and fuck you."
"Yes. Anytime you want."
As a reward, Q began to thrust a little bit, smiling at Picard's little
whimpers. "In fact, I want you to be prepared whenever you see me for me to
fuck you."
"Yes, sir."
"If we're ever on an elevator together, you'll wait until the others leave and
then you'll go down on me."
"Yes, sir. Seems appropriate, sir."
Q laughed and began to thrust with force now, letting up the pressure on
Picard's back and letting the man move with him. He was so tight, so hot, so
strong, and so perfect.
"You're such a sweet fuck," Q growled. "You're dick candy, you know that?"
Picard made an indistinct noise and Q knew his face was flushed.
"Say it," Q ordered.
Picard moaned.
"Say it or I'll pull out." Q thrust a bit harder.
"I'm...dick candy."
"I'll fuck you on lunch break," Q said in a lilting sing-song. "On coffee
break, after work and before. I want you to come in to the office early and
just stand here and wait for me to come and fuck you."
"Yes, sir. I'll just wait for you to come and to fuck me."
"Ughhh," Q said. He was close. He thrust harder still, bearing down, angling
his hips. Picard was groaning and moving against him.
"Except...sometimes...I'll want you to...fuck me with your gorgeous cock." Q
laughed, though it sounded primarily like a groan.
"My pleasure," panted Picard, gripping Q's cock hard with his muscles. "You're
dick candy too, my love."
Q groaned then for real and lost it, thrusting forward hard and pouring out his
seed deep in his lover's body. Picard came a second later, white liquid
splashing across the desk, and for a time they just remained there, bent over
the desk together, panting.
Q turned his head and kissed Picard's shoulder. "You won this time, Mon
Capitaine."
"Hmmmm," Picard said. "So I did." He thought a moment. "All right, next time
I'll be an out-of-work Shakespearean actor, and you'll be the unscrupulous
casting director."
Q laughed, moving his hips carefully so that, even though soft, his penis
remained inside Picard and moved just slightly. The man moaned.
"Very unscrupulous."
pants. He hated these things. What more could he say but that he hadn't lied
on his resume and that he wanted to work for the company? He'd been working
on his handshake and smile. What more was there? And why was it taking so
long? He'd gotten here on time (well, a few minutes early), and he was just
sitting here and sitting here.
"Mr. Q?" the secretary asked. "Mr. Picard will see you now."
She gave him a lipsticky smile as he walked through to the office.
Wood paneling, something of a walk to the black vinyl chairs in front of Mr.
Picard's imposing desk. The supervisor looked up welcomingly at Q's approach
and invited him to shake his hand and sit down.
Q contained the small shiver that ran through him. What a voice! Nice grip on
that handshake as well.
"Well, I see you have a great deal of experience working with computers," that
voice said. "In fact, you seem well qualified in many ways. Indeed, there's
no reason for you not to know that I've yet to find such an attractive
candidate for this position."
"Thank you, Mr. Picard."
"Oh, please. It's Jean-Luc."
"That's French, isn't it?"
"Yes. What's 'Q?'"
"Uh, Italian."
Picard raised an eyebrow.
"Northern Italian."
"I see." Picard was looking over his resume now. Q became aware of an
overwhelming desire to scratch his own nose. "You realize that in this
position you will be working directly under me?"
"Yes, sir."
Picard smiled faintly. "You have no problem with that?"
Q was confused. "Of course not, sir."
"I'm glad to hear it." Picard set down the resume and looked at Q carefully,
eyes slightly narrowed. Q began to feel uncomfortable.
"Is something wrong?"
"No." Picard drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk. "I was just
wondering if you're really as qualified as you look."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that I can't really judge things from here."
"Would you like to see me in action? On the computer?"
"In action would be good." Picard stood up from the desk and Q stood as well,
looking around for a computer. The man laughed. "You really are new at this,
aren't you?"
Q looked increasingly puzzled. His wool suit felt horribly hot and his palms
were moist again. "I don't understand."
"So I'm beginning to realize." Picard's hazel eyes began to glitter, and Q
began to guess at what was going on. His sense of righteousness and
indignation battled with his finances. He really needed this job. It was so
convenient, and the benefits were great. Now that he had Mrs. Q and the two
baby Qs to support, he needed a steady source of income.
But this wasn't to be tolerated. This sort of thing was illegal!
"I don't believe you should be talking to me like this," Q said with only half
the forcefulness he had planned.
Picard actually laughed. "Come now. We all do things we strictly shouldn't, I
believe. We're both adults here. Life is made up of compromises and
understandings. We could have quite a comfortable bargain between us. It's a
good job, and you'll find me to be a very...understanding boss." The deep
voice dropped just slightly. "You really are extremely attractive. Your
mouth is quite extraordinary."
Q tried diplomacy. "I'm sure your position here gives you access to all sorts
of people who would be willing to do...whatever you want. This is a very big
company..."
"And if you're thinking you can apply to another department," Picard growled,
"I think you should know that my evaluation will be available to anyone who
wishes it. One wrong word from me, and I think I can guarantee that you will
not only not be hired here, but nowhere else in this city."
Q shook inside. Picard's name had been the first he'd heard when he came to
town, and he'd heard it several times since. The man wasn't bluffing about
the power he wielded. The dark eyes dropped their gaze to the floor.
"What," said very small, "do you want?"
"You really are lovely," Picard purred now, a strong hand coming up to rest on
Q's shoulder. "I think we're going to get along fine." The hand was pressing
down now, and Q knew what was expected of him.
He sank to his knees carefully, reluctantly, thinking of the role which he was
expected to perform in his life. So many people were depending on him.
Perhaps in time he could get promoted away from this, or perhaps a transfer.
Picard would surely get bored with him in time
Q saw with surprise that his hands were actually shaking as he brought them up
to the opening of Picard's pants. Carefully, he lowered the zipper and
reached inside.
"Oh, yes," Picard murmured. "That's it. Nice and slow. You're such a pretty
thing. Take me in your mouth and suck me."
Picard was big and hard as a rock, Q saw, bringing out his penis and evaluating
the job ahead of him. He licked the soft tip and couldn't help responding to
the power of Picard's shivers by growing slightly hard himself. Slowly,
knowing this would all be pointless if he didn't do this right, Q took the
head in his mouth and pressed his lips down along the sides, sucking gently,
then hard, then gently again. He kept his teeth away from the thin silk of
him, swirling his tongue around, while his hands held back the material of his
pants and fingered his warm balls.
"Oh, yes. Yes. That's it. You're so good." Picard was rocking his hips now,
thrusting into him, and Q, noting that he did not grab him by the head, took
him in all the way, massaging him with his mouth and throat, and Picard's
groans grew louder and more indistinct. Q felt the man's sac tighten and
sucked even harder and Picard came in hot spurts down his throat. Q swallowed
and swallowed, holding him inside until the man slumped forward. When it was
clear that Picard was quite finished, Q released him and stood. Picard's
smile was almost rueful as he noticed Q's erection, and he went to say
something when Q smiled.
Unpleasantly.
"So do I get the job now?" Q asked clearly.
A little puzzled, Picard nevertheless nodded and fastened up his pants. "I'd
say you were immanently qualified," he smirked.
Q nodded and brought something out of his pocket. A badge, Picard saw, his
face going a little pale.
"Department of Internal Affairs," Q announced. "We've had a complaint about
you, Mr. Picard."
"I don't...I don't..."
"Did you really think you could abuse your authority so flagrantly and no one
would notice? The company has never stood for this sort of thing, and I'm
going to take personal satisfaction in seeing to it that you receive the
maximum penalty under both company policy and state law."
"I don't...please, can't we..."
Q sneered "How the mighty have fallen, Mr. Picard."
The man looked at him desperately. "Isn't there something we can do? Isn't
there something you want? My job is everything to me."
"Something I want?"
"Yes! If you don't destroy me, I could help you in Internal Affairs. I know
the director very well."
I'm happy with my career as it is."
"I have some money put away..."
"I'm not interested in your money."
"Please," Picard was pleading openly now. "Isn't there something? I'll do
anything."
"Anything?"
"Yes."
Q smiled again and stepped back towards the desk. Swinging his right arm, he
pushed everything on it to the floor: a cascade of post-it notes and
telephones and pens and ledgers. Meeting Picard's wide eyes, Q jerked his
head to the flat, bare surface. Picard gulped.
Q snorted. "I don't have all day."
"Er," Picard said. "Just like that?"
Q crossed his arms and sighed. Picard took the chance and sprinted into his
private bathroom, coming back out a moment later holding a small tube. He
handed the tube to Q, dropped his pants and bent over his desk.
"Spread your legs wider," Q instructed, looking over the tube. Nice thick
lubricant. Picard complied, trembling. Q walked behind him, and Picard heard
the sound of unfastened pants. Long fingers quickly and efficiently prepared
him.
Picard groaned at the heat from those fingers, and Q laughed. "If I didn't
know better, I'd say you wanted me to fuck you."
Uncertain of his role, Picard settled for sheer honesty. "I do."
"How much?"
"Desperately."
Q chuckled and reached a warm, oily hand around Picard's hip to find the
erection pressing against the cool desk.
"We're going to be working in this building together for some time," Q said as
he got into position and began to press himself inside the man's tight ass.
It felt so good. "And we'll be seeing each other a lot."
"Ohhhhh," Picard said.
"If you expect me to keep quiet about you, I expect you to behave yourself."
"Oh, yes. Yes, sir."
Q was in all the way now, and he rested there a moment, buried inside Picard,
his cock pounding out the human rhythm of desire. The man stirred, almost a
protest against the waiting, and Q pressed down against his back, stilling
him.
"I want to know that I can come in here anytime I want and fuck you."
"Yes. Anytime you want."
As a reward, Q began to thrust a little bit, smiling at Picard's little
whimpers. "In fact, I want you to be prepared whenever you see me for me to
fuck you."
"Yes, sir."
"If we're ever on an elevator together, you'll wait until the others leave and
then you'll go down on me."
"Yes, sir. Seems appropriate, sir."
Q laughed and began to thrust with force now, letting up the pressure on
Picard's back and letting the man move with him. He was so tight, so hot, so
strong, and so perfect.
"You're such a sweet fuck," Q growled. "You're dick candy, you know that?"
Picard made an indistinct noise and Q knew his face was flushed.
"Say it," Q ordered.
Picard moaned.
"Say it or I'll pull out." Q thrust a bit harder.
"I'm...dick candy."
"I'll fuck you on lunch break," Q said in a lilting sing-song. "On coffee
break, after work and before. I want you to come in to the office early and
just stand here and wait for me to come and fuck you."
"Yes, sir. I'll just wait for you to come and to fuck me."
"Ughhh," Q said. He was close. He thrust harder still, bearing down, angling
his hips. Picard was groaning and moving against him.
"Except...sometimes...I'll want you to...fuck me with your gorgeous cock." Q
laughed, though it sounded primarily like a groan.
"My pleasure," panted Picard, gripping Q's cock hard with his muscles. "You're
dick candy too, my love."
Q groaned then for real and lost it, thrusting forward hard and pouring out his
seed deep in his lover's body. Picard came a second later, white liquid
splashing across the desk, and for a time they just remained there, bent over
the desk together, panting.
Q turned his head and kissed Picard's shoulder. "You won this time, Mon
Capitaine."
"Hmmmm," Picard said. "So I did." He thought a moment. "All right, next time
I'll be an out-of-work Shakespearean actor, and you'll be the unscrupulous
casting director."
Q laughed, moving his hips carefully so that, even though soft, his penis
remained inside Picard and moved just slightly. The man moaned.
"Very unscrupulous."
