HOLODECK ADVENTURES I: EL DIABLO BONITO

Title: El Diablo Bonito, 1/1
Series: Holodeck Adventures
Author: Jaye (Copyright January 2003)
Codes: VOY C/P NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek and all related characters and concepts are the property 
of Paramount. "El Diablo" belongs to HBO. No infringement is intended or profit 
made. This is NC-17 for m/m sex and light bondage. If you aren't interested (or 
aren't old enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please keep the text 
(especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: A marshal pursues a notorious outlaw and winds up with more than he 
bargained for.

Note: A tip of the hat to Kim R.'s "Playtime" series for the inspiration. These 
are going to be mostly PWPs as Tom and Chakotay spice up their marriage by 
roleplaying a variety of scenarios. I haven't actually seen "El Diablo", but 
Robert Beltran's photos from it are so deliciously wicked I just couldn't 
resist. If I have the Spanish wrong, do let me know.

***************

Marshal Tom Pruitt checked his guns, his knives, his bandanna, his spurs, his 
badge, and his hat. He was ready.

He was about to burst into the lair of the most notorious bandit the West had 
ever seen: a mysterious man known only as El Diablo. He'd left a trail of busted 
banks and broken hearts from Kansas to California to Mexico and back again.

The gun-slinger was despised by wealthy cattlemen and oil barons across the 
territories. El Diablo was known to have a particular fancy for rich men's gold. 
The power-mongers had the ears of the politicos and the newspaper owners, so 
they quickly spread tales of El Diablo's vicious and ruthless ways.

Yet there were other, softer voices who claimed the outlaw as their hero. The 
widows and orphans of the nameless workers who died slaving in the mines and 
building the railroads; the penniless farmers who were forced off their land by 
the greed of more influential men. They claimed El Diablo was an American Robin 
Hood, robbing the rich to help the poor whoever and wherever they were. And 
there were dozens of women lined up to sigh over his dashing good looks and 
irresistible charm.

Tom didn't care which version was correct. He was a Federal Marshal, assigned to 
bring in El Diablo---dead or alive.

He'd parted ways with the posse two days before. El Diablo's trail had continued 
south, toward Mexico. But Tom's gut was telling him it was a wild goose chase. 
He figured the wily renegade was holed up somewhere nearby, no doubt counting 
his haul from the raid on the vault in the railroad office. Interestingly, the 
payroll money had been left untouched.

But Tom's partner believed the rat was running home to his south-of-the-border 
fortress. The rest of the men had followed, leaving Tom behind to fend for 
himself.

He'd traveled upriver, figuring the outlaw would have a hideout near a water 
source. Now he'd found it.

The tiny cabin was tucked into a box canyon whose entrance was just wide enough 
to wade through. Tom was lucky his horse was strong enough to swim against the 
river current and pass through the opening between two rocky outcroppings.

Once inside, the land opened up, framed by cliff walls that would take hours to 
climb. There were grasses and trees, flowers and bushes, all growing wild in the 
secret watering hole.

Tom had tethered his horse by a patch of grass far enough away from the building 
not to be noticed. He'd crept from tree to tree, crawling on his belly to avoid 
being seen.

Now he sidled up to a window to peek inside and find out how many of the 
bandit's men he'd have to fight past to reach his quarry.

His view was impeded by partly-closed shutters, but he had an impression of 
rough wood furniture and a primitive stone hearth. He stood on tiptoe, trying to 
get a better look.

Then froze at the unmistakable sound of a gun hammer being cocked.

"Buenos dias, gringo," said a soft, accented voice in Tom's ear. "Raise your 
hands, but make no other move if you wish to continue upon this Earth."

Tom swallowed his dismay, sensing a formidable presence at his back. The cold 
touch of a pistol muzzle against his cheek kept him motionless as his gunbelt 
was unfastened and drawn away.

"Turn around." El Diablo kept a close eye on his intruder. He'd been surprised 
to hear his horse whicker as if welcoming another. It brought him outside to 
investigate. No one had ever found his secret sanctuary, but he was always alert 
to the possibility of its discovery.

Fortunately, he'd managed to get the drop on his trespasser. The tall, slim 
stranger slowly pivoted, long-fingered hands in the air.

Diablo gasped. Under a broad-brimmed hat, blue eyes pierced him. Never had he 
seen such a jewel-bright gaze, the color of a summer sky at high noon. The 
lawman's face suggested he was a few years Diablo's junior, and pale skin and 
fine bones hinted at an upbringing back East. The silver badge, brown jacket, 
and blue cotton shirt showed the dust of long travel, but the jeans were freshly 
wet to the knees. He'd gained entrance by wading the river, then.

The bandit forced his attention from the length of the slender limbs and grinned 
at his prisoner. "So impolite of you, Senor Marshal, to disturb my siesta 
uninvited." He gestured with the gun. "Inside, por favor."

Tom tried not to shiver as the words rolled from the most exquisite lips he had 
ever seen. A silky moustache and tiny patch of beard framed a full, sensuous 
mouth as if highlighting its curves. And what a smile: a mix of mirth and 
mischief, bracketed by a pair of deep dimples. No wonder the ladies all threw 
themselves at El Diablo. He was a very handsome man who practically oozed 
charisma and sex appeal.

The outlaw's skin shone with a golden-brown tint that spoke of ancestors native 
to the land. His high cheekbones and aquiline nose were set off by intense brown 
eyes and thick black hair that feathered down to brush against his collar.

His white silk shirt was open at the throat, revealing the top of a smooth 
chest. A vest woven in a pattern of rust and gold spanned a powerful torso and 
trailed down to a trim waist.

The pants made Tom swallow. They were tight, black leather hugging the insides 
of muscular thighs, sliding upward to the beltline. The sides of the trousers 
were the same shade of red as the vest. Black leather guards fastened with 
silver buckles covered the material from knee to ankle, where a hint of black 
boot and silver spur lurked underneath.

Giving himself a mental shake, Tom turned and slowly walked into the tiny cabin. 
He wondered if he would ever leave it---alive.

***************

El Diablo strolled past his prisoner and took a seat. He tilted the chair back, 
crossing his ankles and propping his feet on the table. He saw the blue eyes 
fasten on his spurs as they glittered in the bars of afternoon sunlight slanting 
through the slats in the shutters. His brows drew together in a small frown, 
wondering what the gringo was thinking.

Tom couldn't wrench his gaze away from those fantastic legs set off by snug 
black leather and red suede. They seemed to be on display specifically to tempt 
him into thoughts no "real man" of the territories was allowed to entertain. 
Sweat broke out on his forehead. "Mr. Diablo?" he ventured.

"Si, gringo?" was the cool reply. One dark brow rose in query.

"Uh, it's kind of hot in here." He gestured with his fingers toward his hat. 
"May I?"

"Of course." A sudden inspiration lent a wicked glint to the dark eyes. "In 
fact, Senor Marshal, I'm sure you have a few tricks hidden away. So you can 
remove *all* of your garments." The gun reacquired its target as El Diablo 
pointed it between the blue eyes. "Very slowly, por favor."

Tom's spine stiffened. He would not stand naked as a jaybird in front of this 
outlaw. "And if I don't?" he challenged.

"Then, Senor Marshal, we will be ending our siesta with a funeral." Wide 
shoulders shrugged. "Yours, I'm afraid."

Tom was a lawman, trained to ride, shoot, and fight. But even he couldn't dodge 
a bullet. He gave in with ill grace, grimacing as he took off his hat and let it 
drop to the floor.

"El hombre d'oro," El Diablo breathed in wonder. The man's hair seemed to glow 
in soft waves of gold. A rush of desire surprised him. This was his enemy, not 
one of his compadres or even an innocent bystander. Still, he would enjoy this 
show. "Continue, Senor Marshal," he said, affecting a façade of indifference.

"My name's Tom. Tom Pruitt," Tom grumbled as he pulled off his boots. He winced 
as the outlaw gestured for them to be pushed out of reach. So much for grabbing 
one of his knives. He started on his jacket, sneaking glances at El Diablo 
through his lashes. He swore to himself he was just checking for a sign of 
distraction, but in truth baser instincts were driving his interest.

El Diablo, meanwhile, was watching fascinated as the sunlight winked in the 
golden hairs decorating his captive's body. His breathing hitched slightly as 
slender fingers undid the buttons on the simple shirt. Soon the muscles of chest 
and midriff were bared for his inspection. The gringo's shoulders were 
surprisingly broad, the chest slender but well-made. The mat of darker gold 
sprinkled across the expanse set his fingers itching. "Mi tesoro," he murmured.

The husky voice rubbed along Tom's nerves like a rough caress. He shivered in 
the warm air. Embarrassment dropped his head, cheeks burning. He bit his lips as 
his hands hesitated on the first button of his jeans.

"Oh, you cannot stop now, Tomas." El Diablo slid his feet to the floor and 
stood. He tucked the pistol into his holster as he sauntered over to lift the 
blond man's chin. "Or do you simply want me to undress you?"

Tom readied himself to attack, despite his newfound reluctance to harm this 
enticing outlaw. "I think that you'll do what *you* want, regardless of my 
desires in the matter." He tilted his chin defiantly, even as he trembled 
slightly at El Diablo's nearness.

"But pray tell me, mi tesoro d'oro, what is it you desire?" They were so close 
that he could see the pupils dilating in the blue eyes above his.

"What I desire?" Tom shifted closer, feeling his nipples and cock stiffening as 
lust heated his blood. He could smell the spicy, clean scent of that honey skin 
so tantalizingly close. He wanted to see it, touch it, taste it. But duty drove 
him instead to stealthily slide his hands toward El Diablo's pistols. He *would* 
bring the bandit in, but alive---definitely alive.

Swift as a snake El Diablo discerned the ruse and struck. He grabbed the 
betraying hands long before they reached their goal. He forced the slender arms 
behind Tom's back, gathering both wrists in one hand.

Tom froze, panic making his heart beat faster than passion had. He focused wary 
eyes on his captor, wondering what punishment his bid for freedom would earn 
him. He relaxed slightly as El Diablo chuckled in genuine amusement.

"You are full of spirit, Tomas. I enjoy that." He brought his free hand up to 
unknot the bandanna still adorning a pale neck. "But I think I must make sure 
all of your surprises are pleasant ones."

A few simple twists and ties and Tom's hands were bound behind him. He swallowed 
and shivered again, then let out a soft moan as El Diablo's gaze raked him with 
unmistakable hunger.

Gripping the jean-clad hips, El Diablo turned and backed his prize against the 
table, glad that the thick cotton covering the wood would protect delicate skin. 
He stepped back and crossed his arms. El Diablo shot a pointed glance at the 
erection clearly outlined in denim, then met eyes bluer than any cloth. "Now you 
must tell me, just what shall I do with you, Tomas?"

***************

Tom's sense of duty, fatigue from the journey, and shame at his so-called 
unnatural desires melted away under that burning dark gaze. He wanted whatever 
those strong hands would do to him. Desperately. "Anything," he said.

"Anything?" El Diablo's eyes seemed to turn black with desire. He took a calming 
breath, barely managing not to pounce. "You are certain of this?"

"Oh, yes," Tom moaned, and swayed forward to press his naked chest against 
smooth and textured silks. The feeling was indescribably sensual. He dared a 
bold kiss to that lush mouth, feeling the moustache tickle his skin.

A growl signaled El Diablo's agreement with Tom's actions as he forced open the 
lips locked with his. His tongue proved its mastery by claiming the sweet, wet 
heat of Tom's mouth. His fingers played in sprigs of golden chest hair, scraping 
his nails along the lines of muscle, rolling and pinching at the tight rosy 
nipples. Eventually his hands found their way to a snug denim-clad ass, 
squeezing and pulling, thrusting their groins together.

Tom ripped his mouth away, overwhelmed by the sensations. He dropped his head 
back, unconsciously offering his throat. He groaned as El Diablo began marking 
his territory, kisses leading to nips followed by soothing licks. The shift from 
soft to sharp to wet made Tom's head spin and his cock swell further. "Please," 
he muttered.

El Diablo lifted his head and surveyed his dazed captive. His fingers dragged 
along Tom's waistband to the fly. He unbuttoned the jeans, carefully freeing an 
engorged, leaking cock.

Tom was staring, unable to look away from the passion-flushed face in front of 
him. He was shocked when El Diablo sank to his knees, licking his lips as he 
shoved Tom's trousers down to his ankles.

The musk of Tom's arousal was strongest here, and his swollen sex dripped precum 
along its straining length. El Diablo grinned up at his now willing prisoner. 
"May I?" he asked.

"Yes." Tom's permission ended in a sob as that wicked tongue began to lap at his 
glans, swiping almost carelessly over the drooling slit. He thrust his hips, 
seeking friction, but was denied as El Diablo's mouth detoured to playfully nip 
at his scrotum. He leaned against the table, letting it support his unsteady 
weight.

Sensing the build of frustration, El Diablo ran his moustache along Tom's penis, 
tickling him. The strange, garbled sounds from above encouraged him to do it 
again and again. Eventually he tired of the game and went to work.

Tom's brain was frying, the messages flying up from his groin too much for his 
synapses to handle. Only one thought got past the silent mantra of 
FuckYesFuckYesFuckYes in his mind: Bandit or hero, El Diablo could really suck 
cock. He yelled his appreciation, coming hard into the slick enclave encasing 
him.

El Diablo indulged himself with a brief taste of the younger man's cum, then 
hastily brought his fingers up to collect the rest of the sticky fluid. His 
other hand quickly freed the long legs from their cloth shackles. He rose up, 
pushing his now naked prize onto the table. He spread the younger man's knees 
with his hips, angling his own still-clothed body downward.

He braced one hand against the table as the other slid between pale buttocks, 
one finger almost lazily circling its target. He lowered himself further, 
staring into Tom's face. He purred, "Tell me, Tomas, have you ever held a 
stallion between your thighs?"

***************

Tom's eyes flew open as he was shocked out of his post-orgasmic haze. He parted 
his legs further and arched his back. It was wickedly titillating to be naked 
while his ravisher remained fully clothed. The different textures brushing his 
skin set his nerve endings tingling. He rubbed his flaccid sex against the 
leather concealing El Diablo's rampant one. "Not until now," he said, and rested 
his thighs on top of the gunbelt, the touch of cold metal shocking to his sweaty 
flesh.

El Diablo claimed Tom's mouth once more as his fingers eased, then plunged into 
the pliant body beneath his. He twisted them, enjoying his exploration of the 
heated channel even as he ensured his partner was ready for a greater 
consummation. He swallowed the howls that told him when he hit the sweet spot.

Between the kiss and the internal dance of those talented digits, Tom was 
struggling for breath. When his lips were freed his eyes fluttered open to see 
as well as feel. His ankles were shifted higher to span powerful shoulders, then 
he watched with avid fascination as a thick dusky cock was freed inch by inch 
from its leather prison.

Tom groaned in anticipation, his own re-awakened dick bobbing with every deep 
breath. He couldn't tear his eyes away as he relaxed his whole body, readying 
himself for the plunge.

El Diablo lifted the slender hips and lined up, then hesitated. He savored the 
moment and the almost-painful edge of anticipation. "Mi tesoro," he whispered, 
his thumbs bestowing a tender caress. Then he thrust himself to the hilt into 
the lean body cradled in his grasp.

Both men shouted, then froze, staring at each other, feeling the connection 
between them in every pulsebeat throbbing through the place they were joined 
together. They started to move, settling into a rhythm of quiet grunts 
punctuated by sharp sounds as leather and suede met bare flesh.

Tom braced his bound arms against the table for leverage as he bucked and 
writhed, striving for even deeper penetration.

El Diablo tightened his grip, his thrusts becoming rougher as passion took hold. 
He was slamming into Tom's body, staking his claim. His balls drew up in 
readiness, the leather confining them an added fillip of sensation.

Tom nearly sobbed his gratitude as one golden-brown hand slid from his hip to 
his cock. He strained into the clenching fingers until his orgasm erupted from 
him in a hoarse scream and the heated burst of his seed.

The grip of the slick walls around his swollen cock sent El Diablo over the 
edge. He plunged again and again, spending himself with a husky growl of 
satisfaction.

***************

Chakotay carefully pulled out of his husband's body and levered himself up. He 
scanned the limp form that looked like it had oozed into the table. "Are you 
okay?" he asked.

"Hmmm...." Tom slowly blinked, then focused on the worried face above him. 
"You're out of character," he chided.

Chakotay pressed a relieved kiss to the pouting pink lips. "Of course I am." He 
pulled Tom into a sitting position and reached around to free his lover's hands. 
"I've been out of character since this program started. If I'd really portrayed 
the Mexican bandit as you designed him, I'd have shot you on sight."

"*That* would have been a waste of good holodeck time." Tom automatically rubbed 
his wrists, but in truth the binding had been more for show than genuine 
restraint. "The 'Robin Hood' twist gave me the first clue this wasn't going to 
go exactly to plan. I didn't remember telling you to give away all your ill-
gotten gains."

Tom sent Chakotay a sly grin as he brushed a finger along the edge of the older 
man's shirt. "I've got to say though you really know how to make a part your 
own." He opened a button, stroking the warm skin revealed. "That accent sure got 
me going."

"I thought you'd like it." Chakotay flashed his dimples as he winked.

"Not to mention the moustache and all that hair." Tom's hands moved upward to 
bury themselves in the longer strands. "You've *got* to keep this."

Chakotay shivered at the unexpected scalp massage. He gathered Tom's bare body 
closer to his own to keep the younger man warm. "Well, I'll leave my hair longer 
while we're on vacation, but this fake moustache really itches so it's got to 
go." He offered with a laugh, "You can wear it next time if you want."

Tom snorted. "No thanks, I can grow my own. Besides, there's no way anybody 
would mistake me for a brunet." He continued to play with the heavy raven locks, 
tucking them behind Chakotay's ears to study the effect, then fluffing them out 
again. "Yes, this look will *definitely* work for the next scenario I have 
planned."

"And what exactly is that?" Chakotay asked warily, not trusting the sudden 
gleeful gleam in the blue eyes.

"That, Senor husband, is for me to know and you to find out." Tom gave him a 
saucy wink. "Let's just say your role will appeal to your spiritual side."

"I'm not sure I want to know what that means, mi tesoro d'oro, my golden 
treasure," Chakotay teased as he caressed Tom's face.

"Oh, I bet you do, you handsome devil," Tom said with a smile as he slid his 
fingers down to start unbuttoning Chakotay's vest. "But for now how about we 
just indulge in another round of earthy animal sex."

And so they did.

THE END