2

Personal Log; La Forge: Reg has been assigned duties away from delicate engineering equipment as he is still shedding significant amounts of soap. His work performance this afternoon is high-normal compared to usual despite the clear physical and emotional discomfort he is working under. I wish I could award an official commendation.
The other crew down here have been unable to resist hazing him. As this was no doubt Counsellor Troi's intention, I have allowed it as long as it remains very short-lasting, in good humour and non-virulent.
NB: My visor has been picking up unusual auras in and about Reg's derrière.…. I hope I'm never spanked by her. Oh-Oh. Reg has just vomited into the Warp Core. I'm sending him to Sickbay pronto.

The doors to Ten-Forward hissed open. A smile tugged at Guinan's lips as Deanna Troi entered. Troi wasn't the only Empath aboard Enterprise. Her voice reflected an aura that Deanna always ached to be able to emulate. "What'll it be, Counsellor?"
"Double," Deanna smiled softly, naturally. "A double…...chocolate sundae."

The two women were still discussing Deanna's techniques, and what lay behind it all, when Beverly Crusher arrived. Deanna looked all studied innocence; Guinan hid a smile.
"Reg will make it," the doctor reported crisply. "A litt – err – a lot of soap and water never really hurt anyone." Then her professional demeanor cracked, and she collapsed into a chair. "Oh, Dee!" She got out between breaths of helpless laughter. "How could you!"

Deanna started as she found Guinan motionless next to her at the big windows. Ten-Forward had darkened into 'evening' and was emptied. She had no idea how long she'd been staring into the abyss of space. "Guinan. Where is everyone?"
"There's a vampire film playing," Against her wishes, Guinan's gaze went inward to a place and time that only she knew.
"So why aren't you there?" The void stared back at her.
"I've already seen it." She replied.
Deanna forced herself to be at least mildly interested. "Is it any good?"
"Counsellor..." Her voice held a dead quality Deanna didn't like. "I've….." Her voice trailed off. 'seen it....'
Deanna swung around quickly. She shook her head hard to dispel the imagery and screams that flashed into her mind.
~~ Gouts of blood everywhere. The blood wasn't Human. A faint sweaty scent that Guinan didn't wear anymore, yet unmistakably hers. Flashes of light glinting off a sharp blade. Ancient words that echoed. ~~ "
It's true, isn't it..." She whispered. "I mean, it really happened. Oh no, oh Guinan!"
Guinan smiled tautly. "The issue is you, right now, isn't it." She held her hands out to the counsellor. In them were two large yellow bars of soap.
Deanna gulped. "Guinan-!" The El-Aurian's mouth quirked lopsidedly, and Deanna realized that she'd misunderstood Guinan's intentions. But still… 'I'm ship's Counsellor!' She thought desperately.
"In your mind, Deanna, you have been violated. You've then chosen to inflict some consequences back on Reginald." She gave the Betazoid an obscure look. "And from there on, what has happened had nothing to do with his therapy." Guinan dropped the soap into the counsellor's immaculately clean hands. "Your professional reputation and integrity are still intact, Counsellor." She paused. 'Deanna…...You need to follow it through…..' "You've been staring into space for hours now."
Deanna caught Guinan's thought almost as clear as if it had been spoken. She looked down at the soap in her hands. Unbidden, the hurt rose. Or surged was more like it, Deanna thought. As usual, the mistress of Ten-Forward was right. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Barclay for me." She caught Guinan's eye and smiled tightly. "Please."
There was a split-second pause while it verified her voiceprint and authorizations. "Lieutenant Barclay is in Theatre 17."
Something moved in Guinan's face and eyes as she lifted her glass of red wine. Something frightening.
'That film,' Deanna thought. Fine, then. She needed to plan.

The movie ended. It had been gory. Brutal. An elegant, enigmatic ending. No one leaving paid any particular attention to Guinan listening to snippets of conversation. This was as she wished; a stillness radiated from her. She didn't notice Barclay. 'Almost believable,' Reg thought as he made his way to his quarters. And like all the rest, he didn't know the half of it.
At least the movie had done its job. Through it, he had been able to briefly forget the pain he had to endure when sitting down. His lips were no longer so swollen. And, best of all, he had seen no one there from Engineering. He managed to hold the mood as far as the lift. A slim, shapely Andorian blocked his way when the doors opened.
"Lieutenant Man-Boy." Jalan grinned widely. "Convince me you're behaving yourself." Her antennae curled in amusement as she caught his look of embarrassment and anger. The cobalt-blue of her skin deepened in colour. A lovely hand-washing gesture; now cut him off sharp as he tried to speak. "We ladies outrank you, Mister. Haven't you learned that yet?" She locked her eyes and antennae on him as she exited. "Sh'Tlum`r!"
The doors slid shut on her exotic eyes. He could still hear her bell-like giggle as the lift started. "Fucking hell!" Reg swore vehemently. He paced the turbo lift frenetically. "G-God-dammit. Bl-bloody-fuck, bloody hell— SHIT-FUCKING-BLOODY Betazoid BITCH!"
"Destination-?" the air queried hesitantly.

Despite its disastrous aftermath, Barclay had tried to hold to the professional and useful portion of Troi's counselling. His encounter with the engineering technician ruined that. Now, the anticipation of redemption and love from a gorgeous, scantily clad Greek goddess began mounting steadily. And maybe, just maybe, a little retribution of his own. These thoughts now inflamed him and captivated him. He would do it. "C-c-com—Computer, h-hol-d-deck 2"
"Please restate destination."
Reginald Barclay fought back another scream.
Far to one side, and a little above, Deanna Troi's anger pulsed in sync.

Enter When Ready...
The stone temple flashed into view. Then forest, a beach and an ocean stretching out to infinity. It was a hot and windy day. Barclay stood a moment drinking it all in before entering.
Jalan was hurriedly undressing next to an altar and smiling in anticipation. "I've always wanted you, Reg. There will never be anyone else."
Reg smiled coldly. "You can count on that." Naked, she took him sinuously into her arms, kissing and gently biting in the Andorian style. He caressed her and stroked her antennae. "Jalan?"
"Mmmm?"
"What d-does Sh'Tlum`r mean?"
She looked puzzled. "It's Andorian slang. It means: 'Don't test me'.'"
Barclay backhanded her across the face and kneed her in the stomach. Jalan collapsed to her knees and hollered as Barclay shackled her to the altar. Her antennae writhed in shock. "Oh, believe me, I will." A vein throbbed in his temple. He tuned her out, getting hard and aroused as the woman he idolized above all others came out of the soothing Adriatic waters.
Goddess Troi tossed the succulent long wet hair out of her face and spread her arms in welcome. Her shapely, statuesque, and very naked body gleamed. "My Lord….."
"M-my Goddess," Barclay stopped. He cleared his throat. "My l-lo-lovely. I'm s-sorry this is necessary." Barclay tapped his keypad, adding in his most desired refinements.
Deanna vanished; her rich voice hung in the dusty Mediterranean air. "Don't be." She reappeared elsewhere, arms full, and began setting out a formidable array of whips and spanking implements by the altar. Yellow Andorian eyes burned into hers.
"We must be punished," she replied to the look. "You know this." She bent over, gripping the altar with both hands.
'Too fucking right, Bitch.' Barclay thought. He began to sweat with heat and excitement. 'Get ready to count.' Taking his time, Barclay let them see his first selection, a vicious paddle emblazoned with Klingon markings. Jalan hissed venomously; Deanna's knuckles whitened.
He swung hard – something jogged his elbow - and missed her entirely.
"Freeze program."

That horrid taste returned to his mouth in a sour rush. Move! He thought desperately as he spun around. A hand steadied him, pulled slightly. Barclay's own momentum carried him around full circle back to where he started. He stared, heart pounding, as his personal, private paradise vanished before his eyes.
Walls of warm stone took shape. Spicy wood burned in an austere fireplace. The scent in the air became exotic, ancient. One end of the vast room was domi-nated by the Imperial Klingon trefoil. The other end was equally dominated by a huge fountain sculpted in the form of a Denebian Slime Devil gushing shimmering, steaming water from its fanged mouth. The waters were caught in an ornate mirrored basin set comfortably at waist height. Two big yellow bars of soap graced that washbasin. Klingon weapons graced the other two walls. And Reg knew they were hung there only to tease him.
A new, even sexier Deanna Troi materialized and took an `oy'naQ, down from the wall. She admired the high-end Klingon painstick for a moment and then flashed Reg that secretive, mischievous smile he so adored. Normally, that smile was reserved for Will Riker. The holo-Troi moved around with a stunning grace .…..now eyeing the same paddle he'd been intending to use on her…...and now she was contemplating him with a new, not-very-nice smile.
Reg gulped the soapy taste down and wiped his mouth. Jangled, searing emotions held him rigid. An intimate arm slipped around his shoulder as she leaned in close from behind. He could feel her breath on his neck.
"DenIbya' Qatlh," Deanna whispered in his ear. "Spank her until she bleeds." Pause. Her body was so warm. "Shit-fucking Betazoid …. Bitch?"
His anger seethed. "D-Deanna," Barclay fought to get the words out. "Th-this thing's g-gone far enough-"
She watched with him as the holo-Troi checked the pain-stick's settings. "Oh, I don't think so," Her own anger rippled to the surface. "I told you I'd check up on you after your appointment this morning. And what have I discovered? My poor little man still doesn't know how else… to feel good….." Her grip tightened. "What has gone far enough is your filthy, disgusting and demeaning behaviour. You haven't learned anything, have you!"
"How dare you even think of trying something again with a holo of me!"
She plucked his com-badge away and crushed it underfoot. Her own com-badge was conspicuously missing. "You have a tough choice ahead, Lieutenant. You can choose to report to Captain Picard." Shoving past, she entered the program, was transformed into a Klingon, and swung to face him. Her growl was deadly calm. "Or stay, and report to me." Deanna let him catch up. "jQuE! What happened to you earlier was just a taste," she warned. "Give me my way, and you'll wish you'd chosen Starfleet discipline. DaH wuK bij !" Deanna took the proffered `oy'naQ from the hologram and tapped her heavily booted foot impatiently. "DaH wuK bij !"
Thanks to Worf, her guttural Klingonasse was fluent. Barclay was struggling to translate. Seeing his blank look, Deanna snapped out: "Choose! Now!"
To his surprise, Barclay found he was stubbornly standing up to her, and was in a little awe of himself. "kU`vele`'ta ! Enough fucking Klingon crap!" he snarled. "This isn't therapy! This is how you get your fun, right?" His usual stammer had vanished. "You bloody sadistic BITCH! Fucking shit-filled piece of-"
"This setting is most appropriate!" 'And did he just almost spit on me? ' "Calling me a sadist, are you? You forget, I now know how you have fun! You were about to spank 'me'!" Deanna gave him a jagged snarl. "And since you're once again behaving like a foul-mouthed little man-boy, I also feel it appropriate to include some TeraQ nan refinements." Not surprisingly, there was no word for soap. She had to revert to Federation Standard. "Soap. Tons of it! And other things."
Deanna came up for air. "DaH wuK bij!"
'God, what kind of gdayt monster is she,' he wondered. 'How could I have adored her?' He looked at her spin the painstick. The thought of ever idolizing her again on the holodeck made him feel acutely nauseous.
Deanna's eyes glittered. "Well, that's a start. I'd say my therapy is working,"
Reg gave her a very small nod. He had to placate her. If he faced the captain, he'd be lucky to be allowed to remain aboard Enterprise. And the Enterprise was special.