Counselor's Log, Stardate 44076.9
Counselor Deanna Troi has officially had enough. It is the third time in the past six months that the nervous, sweaty, stuttering Mr. Reginald Barclay had left the stain of his ejaculate on the floor of the holodeck. Of course, he wasn't the only one on the Enterprise to use the holodeck to resolve sexual desires, but he consistently is the only one to make a mess of it. And as he sits before her now on the bland grey patient couch, whimpering pathetic apologies and meekly offering promises of change, Troi has finally reached the limit of her abundant Betazoid compassion. A new approach was needed, if only to end the incessant boredom of the current strategy.
"Reg, do you enjoy the sensations you feel when you're having sexual relations in the holodeck?" She asks, her consummate soothing tone slipping through gritted teeth.
"Uh, well, I guess I-" he stammers, eyes darting around the room as Troi crosses her legs and leans forward.
"You're always telling me about visiting the red light district of Earth's 19th century, or playing a captive in an Orion prison. These exercises clearly stimulate you, but they are fantasies, meant to stimulate your imagination as well as your libido."
"Well, sure. There's- there's nothing wrong with that right?"
"Sometimes, yes. But the body needs physical satisfaction, as well, and a hologram will never be able to fully replicate that sensation," she explains gently. She can feel her jaw loosen and her shoulders soften as she quietly plots her next steps.
"Obviously that sounds nice but it's not really possible, now is it?" He starts rubbing his thighs anxiously. "I know I'm a mess and I know no one likes me so I don't feel so great about-"
"When was the last time you had a woman's lips around your cock," she interrupts, "or felt the a woman's warmth on your lap?"
Barclay is flabbergasted, his hands turning white as he now grips his thighs in fear.
"Reg? Do you know?"
Defeated, he shakes his head no. She waits a moment, observing the sad, unfortunate weirdo as he stares at the closed door that leads to his true self. She rises slowly. Reg looks up and she captures his eyes with hers. It's impossible for him to turn away now. She's ensnared him, just as she always knew she could. Personally, she'd never been attracted to the man, but it is apparent that this patient needs some genuine intimacy to get his feet under him again, and Troi is feeling just the right mix of frustration and friskiness to give him one.
She slinks toward him, slightly indulging every step. Mr. Barclay stammers, "Uh, what's happening?"
Troi silences him with a mere cock of her eyebrow. The eye contact continues as she bends down and gingerly caresses his hands, loosening the vice grip on his thighs and allowing her to open his legs. She crouches before him, watching the sweaty, terrified man cower above her. Barclay releases his hands and instinctively reaches for her head before thinking better of it. Troi pretends to not notice.
"When was the last time a living, breathing woman touched you here?" she takes a gentle hold of his thighs,
"A long... long time, really," he admits. She suddenly undoes the buckle on Bacrlay's engineering uniform. "What? What are you doing?"
"Trust me, it'll feel better this way. Lift yourself for a moment." He thinks, still quite confused, and complies. "There you go," Troi coos encouragingly.
She swiftly pulls the slacks down, exposing a rather charming little circumcised penis resting on a pair of plump, hairy testicles. It slowly rises before her, like an old dog waking from an afternoon nap. She admires it briefly before returning to her seduction.
Shifting to her knees, she runs her fingertips along both his inner thighs. Barclay's entire body quivers as he lets out an involuntary giggle. Troi giggles back, allowing her fingers to run closer to his impressive scrotum.
"That's a very strange sensation," he blurts.
"Do you like it?"
"Um, I-"
He's stammering again. Troi manages to conceal an eye roll by leaning forward and softly blowing on his balls.
"Oh my God," she hears as the tiny hairs dance in the light breeze.
"A hologram can't do that," she whispers before giving his balls a light lick.
"Ooh," Barclay squeals as she blows on the wet spot. The squeal continues as tremors engulf his entire body. She playfully licks the tip of the semi-engorged cock and considers the look on his face. The pleasure is apparent, but so is the painful embarrassment. He's fighting the sensations, refusing to give in to the feeling of her touch.
"You know, Reg, many modern psychiatric experts say that a true sexual connection with a physical partner can often lead to pronounced relaxation and a clearer sense of connection with those around you." She takes a hold of his shaft, squeezing it gently to feel the pulsing of his veins. "Quite often a quality sexual encounter in the real world can discourage abuse of more virtual outlets."
