DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Chris Dickenson and is copyright (c) 1989 by Chris Dickenson. Rated NC17 for sexual situations. Originally printed in Beyond the Farthest Star #4. Note: This is the sequel to another story -- "The Ring" by Ann Zewen -- in which Kirk and McCoy, on shore leave, have gotten little golden rings attached to their penises as sexual enhancements ... then can't figure out how to get them off!



Special Duty

Chris Dickenson



"Whoever does it has to be close enough to see where to apply pressure," Kirk explained, flushing slightly as he remembered what had followed the removal of the golden ornament from the tip of his own penis. "The spot's almost invisible until you're really close."

McCoy whirled around, losing his patience completely. "And just what do you suggest I do, Captain, announce auditions for the job? Damn it, I'm a doctor, not a contortionist."

Kirk could not resist a sympathetic grin. "I'm sorry, Bones. Tell you what, I'll--"

"Just forget it," McCoy snapped, really angry now. Beneath his discomfort and embarrassment was just a trace of good old fashioned envy. Kirk hadn't told him that he'd ended up sleeping with the woman who had taken off his ring, but McCoy knew good and well that's what had happened. "I've got work to do."

Kirk knew better than to press the issue when McCoy was this upset, so he retreated from the doctor's office.

The intercom beeped, and McCoy hit the button. "Whaddya want?"

After a brief pause, Chapel's voice came back over the speaker.

"Enslgn Parez is doing better; his fever's down. He's got some questions for you and wanted to know when you'd be in to see him."

"I'll be right in, Christine," McCoy responded, fighting to keep the anger out of his voice. She must be calling from isolation. Parez had picked up a highly contagious bug on their last leave, and out of sheer luck he'd been scheduled for his routine physical just an hour after returning to the ship. McCoy had wasted no time isolating him from the rest of sickbay, and the boy was responding well to therapy.

"Haven't been in there in days," McCoy grimaced. "I'm lettin' my preoccupation with this damn thing keep me from doin' my job."

Making his way to the door of the small anteroom which adjoined isolation, McCoy pressed the lever for admittance.

"Anteroom occupied. Cycle will complete in one point five minutes."

McCoy bounced on his toes while he waited. He'd guessed right about Chris being in Isolation. The anteroom had a five minute sterilization cycle, and also served as a changing room. Chapel emerged a moment later, struggling with the zipper on her uniform.

"Oh, hello ... I think it's caught."

"Let me," McCoy offered. Chapel turned, and he freed the thread which was jamming the operation of the zipper, sliding it smoothly along her spine.

"Thanks." Chapel turned around. "If it's okay with you, I'll leave Celeste in charge while I reorganize the stock room."

"It needs it. I can't find a damn thing in there."

"I know," Chapel grinned. "You threw a tantrum about it yesterday."

"I don't throw tantrums."

Chapel nodded her head solemnly, her lips twitching. "Yes, Doctor."

McCoy started into the anteroom, and Chapel caught his arm. "You okay?"

He paused, meeting her gaze. The teasing had gone out of her expression, and now he saw only her concern.

"Just fine, why do you ask?"

"Since you came back from shore leave, you've been..."

"A pain in the ass? Sorry."

Chapel smiled and shook her head. "Are you sure there isn't anything--"

"I'm sure," he interrupted. "But thanks for carin' enough to ask."

It wasn't until McCoy was inside the anteroom taking off his clothes that he realized he had an erection. He looked down at the golden loop that decorated the tip of his penis and heaved an exasperated sigh. He had to get it off. Not only was it uncomfortable, but if Chapel could tell a difference in his behavior, so could his patients.

The damnedest thing about it was the way it kept diverting his attention. He'd be trying to concentrate on his work and suddenly the peculiar drag of the ring against his trousers would remind him of his predicament, and he'd lose his train of thought. Worse, all that concentration had the side effect of more spontaneous erections per day than he'd had as a teenager.

He stroked his abused penis soothingly, recalling the smoothness of Chapel's skin beneath his fingers as they'd brushed against her bare back. He closed his eyes and shivered, his right hand tightening on the engorged shaft. He remembered the scent of her, the light fragrance he could only inhale when they were very close.

He continued stroking himself, indulging in a little harmless fantasy, imagining Chapel's nude body pressed against his, her breasts rubbing against the hair on his chest. He moaned, leaning back against the wall as his rhythm increased. A final image came to mind, Chapel kneeling before him, taking his cock into her mouth. With a grunt he came, shooting his warm spray onto his discarded uniform.

"Decontamination cycle is completed," the female voice of the computer announced.

McCoy sighed, a grin flitting across his face as he started to put on the disposable isolation coverall. "That was the most satisfyin' decontamination cycle I've had in years."

* * *

McCoy left his office at the end of the day, passing through the deserted nurses station. Parez was their only patient, and the evening nurse was in with him now, so Sickbay proper seemed strangely silent. As he passed the stock room, he heard a muffled thud followed by a feminine curse.

Remembering that Chapel had told him she was going to work in there, he detoured, pausing in surprise as the door slid open. A box of plastiskin cartridges had been upturned on the floor, the cylindrical tubes rolling crazily. The stepladder had overturned, and Chapel was sprawled half under the now empty box, swearing a blue streak.

"You okay?"

Chapel looked up at him, blushing. "Of course I'm okay. Why do you ask?"

"Have you been in here all afternoon?" McCoy asked, and then he took a good look at the reorganized shelves. "My God, did you do this by yourself?"

Chapel got up on her knees and began picking up the cartridges. "Yes, and I would have been done by now if I hadn't decided to move this damn box."

McCoy squatted beside her to help her pick up the cartridges and then caught his breath as the ring snagged painfully against the crotch of his uniform trousers.

Chapel looked up at him. "What is it?"

He shifted slightly, wincing at the pain. and finally stood up again, horrified as his cock started to stiffen into an erection.

"Leonard, are you in pain?"

"It's nothin'," McCoy said, flushing with embarrassment as he took a step back toward the door. "I just remembered--"

Chapel stopped his retreat by catching his sleeve. "Something's wrong, and I'm not letting you leave until you tell me what it is."

McCoy sighed, looking down at her upturned face. He was reminded of his fantasy and flushed again, berating himself for his thoughts. "It's just a little ... nothing serious."

Chapel glared at him. "It is serious, or you wouldn't be hedging like this."

"I ... I can't explain."

"Why not?"

He saw the hurt in her eyes. She thinks I don't trust her, he thought. Hell, it's me I don't trust. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

You're bein' ridiculous, Leonard, he told himself. Chapel's a professional, moreover, she's your friend. The damn thing has got to come off, and she's the one person on this ship who can do it and keep it secret.

"Shore leave," he began with a resigned sigh, hoping if he took long enough to explain, his erection would go down. "Jim and I got drunk, and we did something stupid."

Chapel struggled to keep her expression neutral. "Tattoo?"

McCoy shook his head.

She frowned. "What?"

"I had my dick pierced, and I can't figure out how to get the damned thing off."

Chapel's eyes widened, and she lost the battle not to smile. "Oh, Leonard!"

"Don't laugh," he pleaded. "It's funny, God, I know it's got to be funny, but if you laugh..."

"There's nothing funny about pain," she said, her attitude becoming briskly professional. "And you're hurting. Let me have a look at it."

McCoy dropped his trousers, mortified that his cock was still hard as a rock. Chapel leaned forward, examining the small metal ring, her touch so gentle that he never felt a twinge.

"Jim said there was a seam," he began, but before he could continue, Chapel had slipped the offending ornament off and was examining the small laceration left behind.

"I think I'd better apply some bacteriostat just in case," Chapel said, her face just inches from his erection. "But there's no sigh of infection. You're very lucky."

McCoy pulled her to her feet, and blue eyes locked with blue. "Yes, I am."

Chapel blinked. There was no way she could mistake McCoy's tone or his expression. "I'd better go get the bacteriostat," she whispered.

McCoy's hands were still on her shoulders, and he pulled her slowly into his arms, his lips brushing hers tentatively in a gentle kiss.

For a moment Chapel thought he was going to release her, but he didn't. She found herself willing him not to, shivering as she imagined how that hard cock would feel inside her. Thinking only of her need for that sensation, Chapel wrapped her arms around McCoy's waist and returned his kiss.

McCoy shuddered and moaned, drawing her closer. When he finally released her, they were both breathless.

"Chris, McCoy began as Chapel's hand slipped between them to brush his thigh and then to tease his hardness. McCoy gasped when she touched him there. "God, I want you."

Chapel smiled, running her fingers along the firm shaft. "I noticed."

Pulling reluctantly out of his embrace, she moved around him to hit the lock on the door with the palm of her hand. McCoy turned, slipping his arms around her from behind and rubbing his erection against her bottom.

Chapel leaned back against him, wriggling impatiently as he pinched her taut nipples through the fabric of her uniform.

"Want help with your zipper?" he teased.

"I've never had you unzip it, have I?" Chapel asked, smiling.

He was already drawing it down along her spine, parting the fabric to caress her bare skin. "I think I can manage."

"M-m-m-m," Chapel sighed as his hands slipped around to cup her breasts.

McCoy undressed her, his impatience growing as he fumbled with the tights and boots. Once all her clothing had been shed, Chapel sank down to the deck and wrapped her fingers around McCoy's cock, pumping it gently. "Sore?"

"That ... that feels good," McCoy closed his eyes, his breath coming in gasps.

She cupped his balls, leaning forward to lick the head of his cock. McCoy moaned, a soft desperate moan and slipped his fingers through her hair to pull her closer. Taking the hint, Chapel slid his length into her mouth. Rubbing her teeth along the ridged head, she sucked and pulled at it.

Experiencing a reality more powerful than his wildest fantasy, McCoy felt a climax rising in him. Part of him wanted to come in her mouth, but another part of him argued that if he came now there might be no chance for more. Three orgasms in one day was pushing the limit.

"Stop," McCoy groaned. "Too much ... too fast!" Disentangling his hands from her hair, he allowed her to pull him down on the deck beside her. His uniform shirt came off, then he tugged at the boots and trousers. When he was naked, he leaned over, pulling Chapel against him.

"You did want me to fuck you, didn't you?" he whispered as Chapel's tongue darted into his mouth. Overwhelmed by his own scent and taste on her lips, McCoy pushed her back, covering her body with his.

"Yes," Chapel urged, running her fingers lightly along the underside of his erection as she spread her legs. "Fuck me."

Her husky whisper defeated McCoy's intention to take it slow, and he reached between them, slipping one finger into her, amazed at how wet she was. Chapel wriggled impatiently, arching her buttocks off the deck as he removed his finger and replaced it with his swollen cock. As he sank into her, she buried her head against his shoulder, stifling the cry of pleasure that rose to her lips.

McCoy pressed his mouth against her fragrant hair, fighting to keep from climaxing. She felt so good, so damn good. When he thought he'd gained some measure of control he began to move inside her.

Her hands caressed his back, urged him to move faster, slid to his buttocks and squeezed. "Yes, yes!"

McCoy shuddered as she tightened around him in her first orgasm, continued to thrust as he silenced her soft cry with his lips. When she relaxed, he drew back enough to suck at her nipples. He felt his own climax building and clamped down on it, wanting to continue pleasing her. He slowed his rhythm, licking and nibbling at her, drinking in the salty taste of her flesh.

Just when he thought he couldn't last another moment, she wrapped her long legs around his waist and came again. The spasming of her muscles milked his own orgasm from him, and he exploded, burying himself inside her delicious tightness. Chapel arched off the deck, gripping him by the shoulders as they trembled in glorious unison.

Collapsing on top of her, McCoy brushed his mouth along the line of her jaw. "I believe I forgot to think you for services rendered."

Chapel frowned. "Services--"

McCoy picked up the discarded ring from the floor beside them. "My ornament, remember?"

Chapel grinned. "I almost forgot. Have you really had that thing on ever since shore leave?"

"'Fraid so."

"Why didn't you come to me before?"

McCoy pulled back enough to look into her eyes and smiled. "I think you know the answer to that."

Chapel shook her head, "Leonard, that's what friends are for."

McCoy's smile deepened, and he leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. "Thanks for volunteering for special duty, friend."

"No regrets?"

McCoy's lips brushed against hers. "No regrets."

THE END