Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Paramount/Viacom. This story is the property of and is copyright (c) 1988 by Chris Dickenson. Originally published in Beyond the Farthest Star #3, Elizabeth Burnham, editor. Rated NC17.

The Tie That Binds

Chris Dickenson

Lieutenant Teresa Stone was waiting patiently for Chris Chapel to make her move. The blonde nurse was staring intently at the 3-D checker board. Chris' frown of concentration turned into a delighted smile and she reached out, skipping her black piece over the two red ones.

"King me!" she demanded cheerfully.

"That tears it," Teresa said with a defeated sigh. "I'll spare myself the death throes, if you don't mind."

"I'll even put the ten credits on your tab," Chapel offered almost apologetically. "Bad day, huh?"

"I'll say," Teresa replied thoughtfully, replacing the checkers in readiness for another game. "Mr. Spock inspected the computer service records today and sent me an eighteen page memo of corrections he wants made, complete with footnotes."

Chapel smiled and nodded knowingly. "But he'll settle for tomorrow."

"So generous of him," Teresa said, sarcastically. "I got about halfway through the list today, so it should be finished tomorrow. But honestly, if he wants it done any faster, he can damn well..."

"There's your favorite engineer," Chapel interrupted in a conspiratorial whisper.

Montgomery Scott walked into the rec lounge, his tool kit in one hand. He took a direct path to a viewscreen in the corner and began taking it apart. Intent on his work, he seemed oblivious to the relaxing officers who milled about him.

"Oh, if I was only a malfunctioning piece of equipment," Teresa sighed, keeping her voice low.

"You've got it bad," Chapel murmured in understanding. "Have you tried attracting his attention?"

"Me?" Teresa said disbelievingly. "Me? The only way he'd look at me twice is if I pretended to be an android and wrote out a repair requisition for myself."

Chapel chuckled. "That might work. Let's see. What should we say is on the fritz?"

"He has beautiful hands," Teresa sighed, gazing at the attractive Scotsman. "And I love his burr; it's so sexy!"

Chapel, who favored pointed ears herself, shrugged her shoulders. "Go for it, then, Teresa."

Teresa blushed. "Are you serious?"

"Ask him if he'd like some help," she added encouragingly. "Show an interest in what he's doing. That's a good way to start."

'What do I say?"

"Anything that comes to mind. Be yourself. I bet you that ten credits you lost he'll appreciate the offer, and who knows where it might lead?"

Chapel nudged her and she finally rose, rubbing her palms together nervously. Teresa was new to the Enterprise, recently assigned as a records officer. She was a petite girl with chocolate brown eyes and long, wavy brown hair. Her keen sense of humor had already made her popular with the crew, and her splendid mimicry of the senior officers had put them all in stitches at the weekly poker game in Rand's cabin. She was intelligent and talented, but Chapel had noted she seemed to lack confidence with men. Her adoration of Montgomery Scott had grown steadily since she arrived on board, but she was too shy to make the first move. Scotty was oblivious to the effect he had on Teresa, but Chapel was sure with a little effort that situation could be remedied.

"Good luck," Chapel whispered, as Teresa straightened the short skirt of her scarlet uniform over her rounded hips. She took a deep, steadying breath, and approached Mr. Scott.

"Would you like a hand?" Teresa questioned, standing on tiptoe to look over his shoulder at the exposed circuitry.

Scotty looked up at her. "Ah, Lass, yer a mind reader. I was just wonderin' how I was gonna manage to test this." He rose, snapping a panel into position, flicked two switches, and pressed a button. "Have a seat here, and when I give ye the word, just hit this button." He paused, looking at her with frankly approving eyes. "I should remember yer name, Lass, yer face is familiar."

"Teresa," she replied, sinking into the seat he had just vacated. "Teresa Stone."

"Aye," he said, smiling at her. "Teresa ... generous giver."

"What?" she murmured distractedly as he knelt at her feet, his long fingers deftly removing the lower panel of the console.

"Yer name means 'generous giver'," he explained, his eyes twinkling as he looked up at her. "'Tis a bonnie name, and here ye are, generously giving me a hand."

"A pleasure, " she whispered self-consciously.

"A bonnie name for a wee bonnie lass," he continued, reaching out to reconnect the power. 'There, now hit the red button."

Teresa's finger had barely brushed the console when Scotty saw the severed grounding wire. His eyes widened and he reached up to stop her, but it was too late. The electric charge coursed through her, the powerful surge throwing her back over the chair. Teresa heard his warning shout just as she lost consciousness.

* * *

"She's breathing ... stand back everybody, let her have some room ... Chris, what's her heartbeat now? "

"Eighty-eight," came the reply. Teresa could hear the whir of a medical scanner. The voices sounded hollow and detached.

"Cordrazine did the trick; she's in sinus rhythm, " the male voice continued. It sounded like Doctor McCoy.

"Will she be all right?" That was Scotty's brogue ... she thought dimly. Who were they talking about?

"I think so."

Teresa felt someone shaking her shoulder, and her eyes fluttered open. A dozen crewmen and women were standing over her, their expressions worried. Doctor McCoy and Chapel were kneeling at her side, McCoy with a hypospray and Chapel holding a scanner.

'Thank God," a familiar voice said close behind her. She realized her head was cushioned in Montgomery Scott's arms, and he was hovering over her like an anxious mother hen.

"Show's over," McCoy said, waving to the crowd. "Give her some air."

"What happened?" Teresa asked, looking up at Scotty.

"The console shocked ye," Scotty replied. "I'm sorry, I saw it just a moment too late. I feel terrible. "

"You ought to," McCoy groused, taking the scanner from Chapel and running it over her one more time to double check. "Damned near killed this girl. How do you feel, Teresa?"

Teresa struggled into a sitting position, aware of Scotty's protective arm on her shoulder. She turned to flash the engineer a reassuring smile.

"I feel fine and it wasn't your fault."

McCoy muttered something about machines being the death of the entire crew someday, and stood up.

"Everything reads normal now," McCoy said. "Take it easy this evening, get a good night's sleep, and stop by Sickbay in the morning so I can check you over again."

"Yes, sir," Teresa said as Scotty helped her to her feet.

"And stay away from viewscreens," McCoy admonished as he exited the room.

"Close call, " Chapel said, patting her on the shoulder. "You had me worried for a moment. Feeling dizzy?"

"A little," Teresa said, swaying slightly.

"That's common;' Chapel replied. "A side effect of the cordrazine. It'll pass in about an hour." She paused. "You really should have someone with you until you're steady. Your roommate Sasha, she's still on leave, isn't she?"

Teresa nodded, and then regretted it as the room swayed around her. "I'll stay with her," Scotty volunteered eagerly, supporting her effortlessly in strong arms. "Come on, Lass, let's get you to bed." Teresa caught Chapel's wink over his shoulder as he bent over her. "Just lean on me, Lass, and if ye feel too weak to walk, I'll carry ye."

Chapel was mouthing at her. "Go for it!"

Teresa fought a blush and ducked her head against the engineer's shoulder.

* * *

"Another pillow, Lass?" Scotty questioned anxiously. "Or maybe a drink?"

"I'm perfectly comfortable," Teresa insisted for the third time. "Please sit down." She smiled and patted the bunk beside her invitingly.

He sank down beside her with a sigh. "I know I said I was sorry, but I really feel terrible. It was verra careless of me to overlook that short, and Dr. McCoy was right. Ye coulda been killed."

"It was an accident," Teresa said, patting his hand. "And I feel just fine. Really."

"I'm glad," he replied, looking about the neat cabin. "Yer roommate, she's on leave?"

"Yes, lucky thing. Three weeks. She sent me a star card from the Vegan Colony."

"Ah, Vega's a nice place for shore leave," Scotty said with a smile. "Have ye been there?"

Teresa shook her head and felt the room sway. Scotty quickly put an arm around her.

"Still dizzy?"

"A bit," she replied. Suddenly, she was very aware of how close he was. The warmth of his grasp penetrated her uniform. She could smell his cologne, a light, spicy scent. His expression, so full of concern and guilt, tugged at her heart. "Tell me about Vega."

"It's a bonnie colony," he replied softly. "Maybe the best shore leave facilities in the quadrant. They have any thin' ye could want. They're known for their hospitality."

"I've heard rumors," Teresa whispered, "that there are Orion slave women there. Is that true?"

"Aye," he responding, flushing. "But I'd not be tellin' a lady like you."

"Oh, I want to hear about them," she interrupted, inching closer and brushing against him seductively. "I've heard that they let men ... that they like to be tied up."

"Aye," he repeated, staring at her in amazement. "They do. And there's some men who like it that way, like the feeling of power it gives them. The women like it, too, some even fight it just to make a man hot, pretend not to want it ... "

He was leaning closer, his lips barely an inch from her ear.

"How interesting, " she breathed. "Do you know anyone like that?" Her brown eyes sparkled in the dim light, her parted lips an invitation.

He sighed and nodded his head slowly. "I know one," he admitted in a whisper.

"So do I," she replied, turning and pulling his head closer. His lips were soft against hers, moving gently, sensuously. His hands caressed her shoulders, and she shivered.

"Such a wee bit of a lass," he breathed, his lips trailing down to the hollow of her neck. "Would ye trust me to...?"

"Yes," she murmured, her eyes bright. "Oh, yes."

"I wouldn't hurt ye," he vowed, his hands curving up around her firm breasts, cupping them gently.

"No?" she teased, feigning disappointment. She pushed him away with gentle hands and rose slowly from the bunk. "I think I'll take a shower, " she announced. "And when I'm finished, I'm going to follow Dr. McCoy's advice, and get a good night's rest. "

She turned to smile at him, brushing her soft mane of thick, brown hair back from her cheek. "I'll be naked ... defenseless ... " Her gaze settled on the growing bulge in his trousers. "Good night, Mister Scott," she whispered.

"Good night, Lieutenant," he replied quietly, staring after her.

Teresa took her time -in the shower, soaping her body thoroughly and enjoying the hot, stinging spray against her flesh. She finally emerged, wet and glistening, and toweled herself off slowly, knowing he was waiting for her. She unwound her hair from the coil she had pinned it in and brushed it until it fanned out over her shoulders, cascading nearly to her waist. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, anticipation hardening her nipples and flushing her cheeks. The dizziness was gone, but she felt light-headed as she recalled his hands cupping her breasts and the gentle brush of his lips against hers.

The bathroom door slid aside with a whish, and she entered her dimly lit cabin. Crossing to the bunk, she stretched out on the bedspread, rolling over onto her stomach and sighing.

An iron grip enclosed her wrist and she gasped, rolling over, as another hand closed over her mouth.

"Don't scream," a deep, accented voice ordered. "I'll not be too rough with ye, but the more ye fight..."

She felt a silk handkerchief being slid over her wrist, and in a moment he had secured it to the frame of her bunk. Before she could offer any resistance, he had the other wrist pinned to the bed. Another handkerchief appeared, and soon both her arms were tied above her head. When she opened her mouth to protest, her assailant silenced her with his mouth. The rough, passionate kiss took her breath away, and when his lips finally left hers she forgot to cry out, gasping instead for sweet, cool air.

She pulled at the bonds, finding that they held her securely. She looked up at her captor, who stood by her bunk divesting himself of his uniform. Mesmerized, she watched as he pulled off the crimson shirt, exposing a broad expanse of firm, muscled chest.

The trousers and boots followed quickly, and soon he was naked, his desire for her glaringly apparent. She stared at his swollen erection with wide eyes.

"No!" she whispered. "Let me go!"

"Ah," he said slowly. "Ye don't mean that, Lass." He knelt beside her, his hands exploring her curves boldly, his sure, experienced touch filling her with longing. His mouth sought hers again, and this time the pressure was bruising. She pulled against the restraints, trying to thrust away, but she was trapped. The realization caused a tight warmth in her abdomen and she writhed on the bunk, attempting to evade his caresses. She closed her eyes as his hands drifted lower, smoothing over her navel. She clasped her thighs together tightly, shrinking against the mattress to escape the fire of his touch.

He chuckled, and for a moment his hands left her. She opened her eyes just as he slid a handkerchief over her ankle. She struggled mightily, kicking at him, but he was strong. It wasn't long before he had tied both her ankles down and she was spread out before him, open and vulnerable. She twisted and bucked, but the bonds held firm.

He set upon her eagerly, hands and mouth exploring her, tasting her, his lips hot against her scented torso. She tensed as his lips passed over her pubic arch and thrashed frantically when he invaded her completely. His hands cupped her buttocks, holding her firmly, his tongue flicking at her like a tiny whip.

She quit struggling and arched against him, her breath coming in gasps. She cried out, muscles tightening.

"Yes," she whispered, biting her lip. "Oh, yes!"

Before the delight of her climax had faded, he was over her, thrusting his huge erection against her mouth. She turned her head aside, lips trembling. He grasped her head firmly and turned it back, rubbing the length of his shaft against her mouth.

"Suck it," he ordered, forcing it between her parted lips. She attempted to evade the pulsing shaft, but his grip was like iron. She opened her mouth wider and he plunged it deep into her throat. Moaning with the pleasure of it, he rocked back and forth sliding it in and out slowly. He released her head to touch her breasts, fingering and pinching the nipples. She obediently sucked him, astonished at how exciting it was to be forced like this. She began a slow, unconscious thrusting with her hips in rhythm to his movements, thinking of what he would do to her next.

One of his hands drifted down between her legs, his finger sliding into her wetness. She rotated slowly against the penetrating finger, increasing the suction on his stiff cock.

He continued teasing her as she pleasured him, obviously enjoying his domination over her, and the meek, submissive way she obeyed his commands. Suddenly he pulled away from her.

Teresa groaned, thrashing against the bonds that held her.

"Ah, Teresa, Lass," he murmured. "Yer so lovely." He kissed her again, covering her with his body, his moist cock snuggled between her parted thighs.

"Don't," she pleaded, wriggling beneath him, her breathing irregular. "Untie me..."

"I can't," he whispered, his lips against her ear. "Ah, Darlin', I can't. I have to have ye now. There's no escapin' it." He nudged the head of his cock into her and she gasped, struggling wildly.

"Ye can't escape," his hot breath burned against her sensitive skin. "Yer at me mercy, Lass, and I'm gonna have ye ... I'll be gentle. Don't fight it."

She rolled her hips, attempting to push back against the mattress, wriggling away from the hard invasion.

"No," she begged, losing herself completely in this erotic fantasy come to life. "Please don't!"

"Yer body wants it," he said, biting the soft, plump flesh of her breast. Her writhings were exciting her more than she had anticipated. Likewise, Scotty seemed to be reveling in her frantic movements as she struggled, her moisture lubricating the head of his cock. "I can feel how wet ye ane. Yer wet and wantin', Lass. I'll not disappoint ye."

"I'll scream," she threatened, her head tossing fitfully from side to side.

"No, ye won't," he said, his tone low. "And if ye do, I can stop ye easy enough." The pressure between her legs increased.

"No!" she shouted. His lips silenced her cry as he plunged into her, pressing her hips snugly against the bunk. As he entered her, all pretense fled and she arched up against him, no longer fighting his possession of her. She tightened around him, meeting his quick thrusts eagerly. His kiss turned heavy with passion, and her overstressed nerve endings began screaming for release.

His reserve snapped when she moaned his name softly against his lips. He exploded, taking her with him. The shuddering waves of pleasure washed over them, and for an instant neither breathed or moved, the pounding of their hearts the only sound in their ears.

He collapsed beside her, massaging her gently, unknotting quivering muscles, and caressing her lovingly.

"Me mother always said good things come in small packages," he teased, his burr thicker than usual. "And she was right!"

"Untie me, please, Montgomery," she pleaded, her breathing returning to normal. She felt weak and tired, and so warmly content. She wanted to hold him close and drift off to sleep in the security of his embrace.

"Aye," he whispered, nuzzling against her neck, one hand cupped over her breast possessively. Her eyelids fluttered. She was so sleepy, so tired ...

* * *


Teresa tried to roll over, but she was still tied down.

"Let me loose!" she demanded. "I want to..." She opened her eyes, blinking against the brightly lit room. She realized that she was not in her bunk, but restrained to a diagnostic bed in Sickbay. The steady throbbing sound of the monitor over her head was reminiscent of her heartbeat, and that's precisely what it represented.

Scotty stood over her, his eyes anxious, and Chapel was adjusting the setting on the monitor.

"Teresa, darlin'," Scotty whispered. "Nurse, she's come to!"

Chapel looked into her eyes and smiled. "So, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Teresa looked between them, a puzzled frown crossing her face. "What is going on? What happened?"

"You've been unconscious for about two hours, delirious." Chapel replied. "You got a nasty charge from that faulty viewscreen in the rec room, but you'll be fine now, everything reads normal."

"I was unconscious?" Teresa asked slowly, an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck.

"And fighting like a tiger," Scotty added, taking her hand reassuringly.

"Cordrazine reaction," Chapel explained, unfastening the restraints. "Sometimes it happens, but the hallucinations usually don't last too long. Dr. McCoy says they're vivid, though."

"They are," Teresa agreed, avoiding the engineer's gaze.

"Stay with her, Scotty," Chapel ordered. "I'll go tell the doctor that she's awake."

As Chapel left the room, Teresa finally looked up into Montgomery Scott's eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Ah, darlin'," he whispered sorrowfully. "I nearly killed ye. I'm so verra sorry. Can ye forgive me?"

"Of course," she assured him gently. "It was an accident."

He squeezed her hand and smiled. "Yer a fine, bonnie girl, and a wee, generous soul. If I can do anything ... anything for ye at all, just say the word."

His earnest expression warmed her nearly as much as the memory of the hallucination. Dr. McCoy was right; it had certainly been vivid! She stretched on the bed, her muscles tired and sore. She smiled up at him, deciding to take Chris Chapel's advice. She had nothing to lose but a little control.

"I'll think about it and let you know," she murmured contentedly. "I'm sure I can come up with something."