Author: SassyInkPen (12/9/2001)
Pairing: B/FH (Data)
Summary: Reg Barclay finds a new use for Alexanderís western holodeck program. PWP
Disclaimer: Paramount owns them, I just use them for my own twisted purposes. I donít make any money off this.
WARNING: This story is rated NC-17 for language and graphic descriptions of sex between men. If you donít like that, go away.
Note: This takes place right after "A Fist Full of Data's" Ė However, I only got to see the first half or so of the episode, so please forgive me if some of my details donít mesh with the actual outcome.
Lt. Barclay tapped the last of the repairs into the holodeck control panel. "I hope this does it," he muttered.
He had spent a long week helping Data and Geordie set all the ship's recreational systems back to normal after their computer interface experiment had backfired and loaded them all with information from Dataís personal files. Reg was finally able to take some time off and was using it to fix the western holodeck program he and Alexander had written.
"Computer, start program at Saloon Scene Two." He walked through the holodeck doors and found himself in a saloon from the Ancient West. He heard a soft whoosh as the doors behind him morphed into the background. He took a few steps into the room and looked around at the characters. At first glance, everything seemed normal. Annie, the buxom, blonde bartender was hustling around pouring drinks and the piano player was pounding out a raucous tune.
Then a dark figure at the bar caught his eye and he sighed. It was the character of Frank Hollander, but he still had Dataís appearance. "Well, thereís one more thing to fix. I wonder what else is still wrong." He scanned the room and was relieved to find that the rest of the characters looked the way they were supposed to.
He decided to take a quick walk through town to check out the rest of the program, and had just turned toward the swinging doors when he felt a vise-like grip on his shoulder, "Ow...hey-"
"Whatísa matter, Sheriff? Over sleep this morniní?"
Reg found himself face to face with Frank Hollander. He looked at the gunslinger, confused.
Hollander smirked at his uniform, "Yew still got yer long johns on." Several of the dirty men at the table behind him snorted and howled with laughter.
"Ah...well," Reg stammered, trying to think of a response. Data made a pretty good looking villain.
Then Hollanderís eyes narrowed and his voice turned cold. "Enough playiní games," he spat, "I want my boy." He drew his gun in an unspoken threat.
"Oh, well...right." Reg was relieved that the holodeck safeties were functioning properly again. "You know, I was just going to walk down that way," he said, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the jail house. "Why donít we just go...let him out." He smiled nervously and cocked his head.
"Thatís mighty obliging of you, Sheriff," said Hollander, eyeing him suspiciously.
Reg found the contrast between the menacing villain and his gentle friend to be rather amusing.
Hollander shoved him toward the door, "Letís get on with it, then."
Reg stepped out onto the boardwalk and headed into the street, with Hollander on his heels. As they walked, Reg glanced around, looking in windows and checking things out. Everything, and everyone else, seemed to be all right. He started to chatter amicably to Hollander.
"Shut up," snapped the gunslinger.
Reg looked at him out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing else.
When they reached the jail house, Reg pushed the door open and stepped inside, Hollanderís gun still trained on him.
The place was empty except for one man slouched on a bench inside the locked cell. Reg groaned in frustration. The character was Eli Hollander, but, again, the face was Dataís.
Eli sat up when the two men entered. "Paw!" he said, standing up and grasping the bars.
Hollander yelled, "Eli!" over his shoulder, eyeing Reg a moment longer before turning his attention to his son. He strode over to the cell, "Howíre they treatiní ya, boy?"
Eli pasted on a pitiful face, "Real bad, Paw. Ainít fed me since I got here, en the Sheriffís been roughiní up on me somethiní fierce."
"Donít yew worry, boy," said Hollander, sucking his teeth, "Sheriffís gonna pay."
Hollander turned around and fixed his narrowed eyes on Reg. "Well," he drawled, "are you yew gonna release my boy?"
"Oh...right, of course," said Reg as he hopped over to the desk and started rummaging for the key. He found it and hurried over to the cell door. Hollander regarded him coldly as he fumbled with it and finally unlocked the door and pulled it open.
Eli smirked stupidly and walked out of the cell, looking Reg up and down. "I dinít know jails had bell hops," he said snorting at his own joke. He licked his lips, "Yer much too purdy ta be a sheriff."
"Eli!" bellowed Hollander, "Git on home."
"All right, Paw," and Eli shuffled to the door, looking disappointed to miss a fight. Hollander went after him, but instead of following him out, he shut the door with a meaningful click and turned to face Reg. His eyes were hard and his face like granite, as he slowly advanced on Reg.
"Now Iím gonna make yew pay fer lockiní up my boy," he said coldly.
Reg gulped, but did nothing. He was fascinated by the concept of Data as a vicious outlaw and wanted to see more.
Hollander pointed his gun at Reg, and used his other hand to unbutton his pants. "On yer knees," he hissed.
Reg blinked, surprised, "Ah...I, ah..." He wasnít expecting this. Although it was *possible*, he realized, since he had programmed a huge range of variables and outcomes. He prided himself on creating really outstanding holodeck programs.
Reg was about to end the program, but hesitated a moment. He considered the outlaw. He had to admit that he found Data somewhat attractive, especially like this, and he was curious. He thought, "It *is* just a holodeck simulation..." Then he realized, with some amazement, that he was getting turned on.
"I said git down on yer knees," spat Hollander as he clamped a hand on Reg's shoulder and forced him to the floor. Reg allowed himself to be pushed to his knees, as he tried to decide whether or not he should go through with it.
Hollander held him there while he holstered his gun, and reached down to free a rather impressive erection. He looked down at Reg with a smug expression. "I'm bettin', *Sheriff*, that yew already know what ta do," he said, thrusting his cock in Reg's face.
Reg stared at it a moment, struggling with indecision. As a matter of fact, he did know what to do, since he'd used the holodeck once before to experiment with going down on a man. Finally, he licked his lips and reached a wet tongue out to moisten the head of Hollander's cock before wrapping his mouth around it.
"I knew yew was no stranger ta this," sneered Hollander, as he grabbed Reg by the hair and forced his cock to the back of his throat.
Reg gagged slightly, and braced his hands on the other man's thighs, trying to relax his jaw. He realized that with his mouth full, he would be unable to end the program, and hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
He worked his lips and tongue as best he could, while Hollander fucked his mouth, grunting with each thrust. He'd gotten past his gag reflex and was sort of enjoying the feel of the hard cock scraping against the back of his tongue and hitting his throat. He wondered if this was what Data tasted like.
He gripped the outlaw's muscular thighs as he fought to control his breathing and hold up against the onslaught of the other man's punishment. His own hard-on was straining against the fabric of his uniform, and he groaned when Hollander grabbed his hair with both hands and fucked him forcefully, breathing heavily.
Then suddenly, Hollander pulled out of Reg's mouth and grabbed the front of his uniform. "Git up," he spat, hauling Reg to his feet. Reg looked at him quizzically, and he said coldly, "Don't worry, Sheriff, I ain't done with yew yet." He turned Reg and pushed him against the desk, forcing him down until he was bending over it.
When Reg realized what he intended to do, he blurted out, "Wait. I've never...I mean, I don't-"
"Well, well, well," seethed Hollander, pinning him down, "Ain't this my lucky day. I git ta have me a virgin." He yanked Reg's pants to his knees.
Reg's nervous brain and aching cock were at odds with each other as he debated, again, about ending the program.
He heard Hollander make a rude noise and spit, and then felt slimy fingers swipe across his opening. He gasped as an unexpected wave of heat rushed through him. Hollander pressed the head of his cock against him and began to force his way in. Reg groaned out loud as a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelmed him.
Hollander continued pushing forward until he was buried deep and their bodies were crushed together. He paused for a moment. Reg could feel the cold metal buckle of his holster digging into his bare skin. He was grateful for the chance to adjust to the reality of the man's cock filling him. He felt hot and he was shaking.
"Sheriff," Hollander let out a long, low whistle, "yew missed yer callin'. Yew oughtta be workin' down at Miss Langford's." He pulled back and then slammed into Reg, causing him to yelp. Then he grabbed Reg by the hips and began fucking him leisurely, slowly moving in and dragging back out.
Reg moaned in spite of himself, gripping the edges of the desk. Pleasure was rapidly overtaking any pain he felt. Heat surged through him each time Hollander pushed into him. His mind was spinning, he could hardly believe he was doing this, but there was no way he was going to stop.
He groaned and panted as Hollander increased the pace. The tension in his groin was becoming unbearable, so he wedged an arm between him and the desk to attend to his own aching cock. He shuddered as he wrapped his hand around it and began to stroke himself. Within seconds, he was consumed with lust, writhing and bucking against Hollander, as he pumped his cock with his own fist.
He gasped when Hollander dug his fingers into his hips and started pounding into him. Hollander grunted as he ground his cock into Reg and came with series of forceful thrusts.
Reg's body exploded with pain and ecstasy, and he wailed as he ejaculated into his hand, shocked by the intensity of his own orgasm.
He sucked in his breath when Hollander pulled out, and lay clinging to the desk for a few moments, until self-consciousness compelled him to stand up and pull on his pants. Reg wiped the sweat from his brow and stole a glance at Hollander, who was buttoning his fly.
Then Hollander grabbed Reg by the collar and yanked him forward until their faces were only inches apart. "The next time yew mess with my boy," he said as he narrowed his eyes and curled his lip in a sneer, "I'll put yew in a pine box. *Sheriff*." He shoved Reg back into the desk and strode out of the jail house, slamming the door behind him.
Reg stayed there for a few minutes, composing himself and straightening out his clothes and hair. Then he said, "Computer, end program." The scene vanished, leaving the yellow grid of the holodeck, and Reg walked out into the hall.
"Lt. Barclay," said a familiar voice, "I came to see if you required any assistance in repairing your program."
Reg nearly jumped out of his skin as he turned to face the android, "C-Commander D-Data," he stammered, blushing furiously, "That's...that's really...nice. But...but, it's ah, it's not...necessary. The program's fine. I just...finished."
Data cocked his head, "I am glad you were able to repair it. Perhaps we could try it sometime. I am always interested in the-" he paused, "You look pale, Lieutenant, are you unwell?"
Reg gulped, "You know, I...I feel a little tired. I think I'll just go...lie down." He ducked around the corner and set off at a fast walk for his quarters. He breathed a sigh of relief and thought, "Yes, Data, we should try it sometime."