Stalking William Shatner

 

 

The birds were chirping loudly outside Bill Shatner's bedroom window on a hazy Easter morning.  His wife still slept soundly as he got out of bed, put on a bathrobe, and stepped outside to get the newspaper.

 

Finding a small package next to the newspaper didn't surprise him; after all, his fans often sent him letters and small gifts.  He recognized the distinctive handwriting as belonging to one of his most enthusiastic stalkers, a woman who regularly sent him adoring letters and e-mails and followed him to all the Star Trek conventions in the hope that he would autograph her very large and very real boobs in permanent ink.  Despite her peculiarities, she didn't seem at all dangerous, so Shatner decided there could be no harm in opening the package.

 

A plastic wrapper crinkled pleasantly as he pulled out his gift of Easter candy.  He wondered how the fan could possibly have known that yellow peeps were his all-time favorite.  Probably some Trek trivia site on the Internet, he decided; some weirdo who'd seen him buying groceries recently had even posted the brand of toilet paper he bought.

 

Of course, as an intelligent man, Shatner knew that it wasn't a good idea to take candy from a stalker.  But those peeps looked so tempting, and they were still factory-sealed, so there couldn't possibly be any poison in them.  And he hadn't eaten any candy for months, since his wife got serious about making him lose that weight.  She'd even thrown away the stash of chocolate bars that he'd hidden in the DVD cabinet.

 

Just one little peep, or two, couldn't do any harm.  He unwrapped the package, looking furtively over his shoulder to make sure his wife wasn't watching, and popped one of the delicious marshmallow candies into his mouth.  Mmm, he thought, it just made the whole world look so much sunnier.

 

Then everything around him faded into a bizarre yellow haze, the exact color of the peeps he was holding.  He could see nothing except a female figure walking slowly toward him, completely naked, with very recognizable, large, and real boobs.

 

"Hi, Bill, sweetie.  I hope you enjoyed the peeps."  She held out an indelible black marker.  "Now it's time to autograph my boobs."

 

Had she poisoned him?  Was he lying in a hospital somewhere, hallucinating?  The package of yellow peeps in his hand certainly felt real enough, although there seemed to be a strange marshmallowy scent in the mist that surrounded him.

 

"I know this must seem very confusing to you," the fan purred sweetly, as her huge boobs swayed back and forth.  "But it's really very simple.  You see, I opened the package of peeps carefully, put in a few drops of a new designer drug, and resealed the package so that you'd never notice.  Don't worry, the drug won't hurt you.  Its chemical composition is similar to LSD, but instead of causing random hallucinations, it gives your brain a specific sequence of encoded images.  So that you can have a wonderful dream about me, of course!  And there are other very pleasant effects, too!"

 

Shatner was starting to become aware of those other effects, most of which seemed to be focused in the vicinity of his groin.  He hadn't felt so aroused in years.  Pulling the bathrobe more tightly around himself, he snapped, "I'm a married man, you know."

 

Yeah, right, that was about the lamest excuse he could have given her, but a woman who would go to such extremes as to poison his peeps might do almost anything.  He'd rather not even think about it.

 

"This is just a harmless fantasy, Bill, baby."  The stalker smiled broadly as she leaned toward him, pressing the marker into his hand.  "None of it is real.  All you have to do is autograph my boobs, and it'll all be over."

 

With a curse, Shatner flung down the marker, which disappeared into the yellow mist without making a sound.  He threw the peeps after them.  "Get out of my life, you psychotic bitch!"

 

"If we're to be precise, you're the one who's psychotic right now."  The fan was no longer smiling as she continued, "The drug's program is interactive enough to have anticipated that you might throw away the marker.  But guess what, now you've changed the parameters, Bill.  There's something else you're going to have to do for me before your hallucination can come to an end.  And I think you can guess what that is, can't you?"

 

The stalker, without further ado, parted his robe and pressed her naked body tightly against his.  The heat of her thighs touching his pulsing erection made him shudder with uncontrollable pleasure.  Then she quickly began to move downward, trailing kisses across his chest and belly.

 

"I want you to come on my boobs, Bill.  All over my boobs."  She lifted those massive globes in both her hands, cupping them firmly around his cock while her tongue darted and licked along its length.  He couldn't restrain himself any longer and exploded in a massive climax that seemed to last for days.

 

The fan's mocking voice seemed to come from a great distance as she faded into the haze.  "Just think, Bill, if you'd autographed my boobs at the convention like I asked you to, we'd never have had all this fun."

 

Shatner found himself standing on his driveway once more, with the open package of peeps at his feet.  There was a large wet spot on the front of his robe.  No way this could be reported to the police, he thought.  They'd never believe it anyway, and the tabloids would have a field day.

 

But in the future, he would always be sure to remember that it was very foolish to take candy from a stalker.