DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. This story was written for the enjoyment of the author and no infringement of any existing copyright is intended nor is any profit realized or expected. The story contents are the creation and property of Chris Dickenson and copyright 1988 by Chris Dickenson. This story is rated NC-17 for adult language and sexual content. You must be 18 years of age to read this. It is reprinted from Beyond the Farthest Star #4.
A WILLIN' SOUL
Chris Chapel stared defiantly down the shaft of the spear that pressed against the hollow of her throat, blue eyes glittering with determination.
"I come in peace from a far away place. I've lost..." She paused, casting a sidelong glance at the shackled, obviously subservient males. Returning her gaze to the female who seemed to be in charge, she smiled. "I've lost two possessions, my personal slaves. They're valuable and I'd be willing to pay a substantial tribute to ensure their return."
"Runaway slaves?" The arrogant tone of the leader was apparent as she sized Chapel up.
Chapel shook her head, hoping she exuded more confidence then she felt. "No, it wouldn't cross their minds to disobey me, much less try to escape. They were separated from me in last night's storm." At least that was close to the truth. The shuttle had crash landed and the ion storm which caused the crash had coincided with a sizable atmospheric disturbance. Chapel fingered her uniform insignia. "They wear the marks of my house on their clothing."
Chapel met the leader's gaze and held it, feeling drained when the woman nodded her head and broke into a welcoming smile. The female warriors lowered their weapons and Chapel allowed herself a sigh of relief.
"Your males are safe, sister," the leader replied. "They were brought in at dawn by our perimeter guards. No tribute is needed. We honor the ways of those from far away lands, even when they differ from our own. I might suggest, however..." She reached for the nearest male, who, sensing her intent, drew closer. Long fingers outlined a intricate brand over the slave's left nipple. "That you consider marking your property more permanently." Her fingers trailed up along the male's neck to caress his cheek. "Clothing can be removed."
Chapel flushed at the sexual overtones in the woman's voice, but nodded. "I'll consider your suggestion."
"I am certain that we can learn much from one another, the woman continued. "I offer the hospitality of our dwelling until the sun rises again."
"I accept," Chapel said, "I'll stay until dawn. But then I must continue on my way."
The leader smiled and nodded. "I am Libet, and I speak for all of my sisters when I say welcome."
The next several hours were torture for Chapel. She accepted the hospitality of her hostess, ate and drank and answered Libet's questions as best she could, keeping the prime directive in mind. If she hadn't been so concerned for Spock and McCoy, she might have enjoyed the company of these females. Tall, regal and slender, they were all exceptionally lovely and gracious by human standards. The males too, were attracrive. She noticed a variety of skin tones and hair colors, which relieved her. Local diversity would lessen their suspicion of Spock because of his exotic appearance.
She had asked to see the men and Libet had assured her that they would be brought to her when she retired. The leader did not seem to be stalling for any reason other than the pleasure of her company, but Chapel worried just the same. Although the males she'd seen appeared to be treated more as cherished pets, objects of adoration, the whole social structure unnerved her. Her head throbbed with questions she dared not ask, wondering anxiously how Spock and McCoy were coping with such an alien culture.
An exceptionally attractive male knelt before the lounge where Chapel sat, refilling her wine glass and rubbing his smooth cheek against her thigh in an almost feline gesture before he sat back on his heels to await her response. His expression was as guileless and open as that of a child and she felt a surge of desire wash over her.
"Perhaps you tire of the usual fare, sister," Libet said, arching one shapely leg out to brush painted toes against the shoulder of the man kneeling before Chapel. "Choose any male and we will provide him to serve your pleasure. Choose several if you like."
Chapel watched as the man before her took Libet's foot in his hands, bending his head to kiss it. When he looked up at her again, Chapel fancied that he was pleading with her, wordlessly begging her to choose him. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to have him, and forcefully aborted the errant thought. "I'm rather attached to Spock and McCoy," she blurted.
"When visiting distant lands, it is good to have the familiar," Libet nodded. "I understand, sister, for I too have my favorites. I only wished to repay you for the pleasure we've had with your males, but if you--"
Chapel choked on her wine, her grip on the stem of the goblet threatening to snap it. "Excuse me?"
Libet smiled. "The one called McCoy is not as strong as the dark one, but I found him delightful. I believe that Kibra enjoyed--"
"--Spock," Kibra interrupted with a contented sigh. "His name is Spock. He pleasured me twice."
Chapel's ears were ringing as she stared at the two women.
"He is tireless," a third female sighed appreciatively.
Chapel rose to her feet, all color draining from her face. "Libet, I must see Spock and McCoy now."
Libet rose also, smiling. "Of course, you are tired from your journey. Jaman will take you to your rooms and prepare you for rest."
"Spock and McCoy?"
"I will send them to you," Libet said easily, putting one hand on Christine's shoulder. "I have enjoyed our talk, sister. We will meet for an early meal before you continue on your way, yes?"
"What? Oh, yes," Chapel responded, distracted.
Libet laughed. "You are thinking already of pleasure, not my words. You have deep feelings for your males, Christine. My sisters and I forbid cruelty to our slaves, for we believe men should be treated with tenderness and love. I do not see such displays as weakness. Men were created to give pleasure, to comfort us at the end of the day. It is good to see that others have the same values."
Chapel murmured some response and was led to her rooms. She allowed Jaman to prepare her bath only because of the wounded look he had sent her when she refused. When the dark skinned, fair haired male reached out to remove her clothing, Chapel stepped back.
"Uh, it isn't the custom of my people to allow men to bathe them." Again the slave seemed hurt by her withdrawal, but she refused to give in.
"May I prepare your bed and bring you night garments?" he asked in a soft voice.
"Yes," Chapel agreed, anxious to get him out of the room. When he had left, she stripped off her uniform and stepped into the warm bath. Had the circumstances been different, she would have enjoyed it more. As it was, she washed herself quickly, refusing her body's demand to linger in the scented liquid. Rising from the tub, she toweled herself off, turning to find a silky, toga-like garment in shimmering white where she had left her uniform. With a shrug of impatience, she slipped it on and went to look for Jaman.
The rooms were spacious and luxuriously furnished. Libet's people were not only generous, but prosperous. She passed through the bedroom into the lounge, finding Jaman waiting for her by the curved arch which separated the rooms.
"Your pleasure, mistress?" he queried eagerly.
"My pleasure?" she echoed with a frown. Her tone had been sharper than she'd intended and she purposely softened her voice as she continued. "My pleasure is to have my slaves brought to me."
Jaman nodded, a bare flicker of disappointment shading his blue eyes. "At once."
He left the room, going out into the corridor and Chapel followed to the doorway. A moment later, Jaman reappeared with Spock at his side. The Vulcan was carrying McCoy in his arms. Relief and concern mingled in her as she followed the silent Vulcan into the lounge where he deposited McCoy on a cushioned bench. Chapel sank to her knees at McCoy's side.
Realizing that Jaman stood beside Spock, Chapel restrained her curiosity and smiled up at the slave. "Thank you, Jaman. Spock can see to my needs now. Tell Libet that I'm pleased with the accommodations and your service."
Jaman retreated from the room and once he was gone, Chapel turned to speak to Spock, suddenly becoming uncomfortably aware that both Spock and McCoy had been prepared for pleasure, her pleasure. Their chests had been shaved and oiled, golden cuffs spanned their wrists and ankles, and the brief strips of cloth that fell from their waists did more to enhance their nudity than cover it. Chapel had undressed both McCoy and Spock in the line of duty, and had always prided herself on her professional detachment, but try as she might, she couldn't control her body's response to the sight of Spock standing before her now. Her gaze had fallen on his emerald loincloth, and before she shifted her eyes upward, she had seen the outline of the hard shaft which strained against it.
"What happened?" she asked her voice coming out a harsh whisper. "What's the matter with Leonard?"
Spock's eyes were bright, his breath coming rapidly, as if he'd been running. He was trembling slightly and when he spoke she could only guess at the effort it took to keep his voice from trembling also.
McCoy opened his eyes and grinned. "Now, that's what I call shore leave!"
"You're safe now, Leonard," Chapel murmured, more to reassure herself than him. Tearing her gaze from Spock, she took the doctor's pulse, her eyes widening. "Just try to rest."
"Well, hello there, darlin'," McCoy whispered weakly, reaching out to caress Chapel's cheek. "Sorry you missed the party."
"I do not believe there is any permanent damage," Spock said. "He is merely exhausted."
"They drugged you and then raped you!" Chapel exclaimed in an incredulous whisper.
"Can't rape a willin' soul," McCoy chuckled. "And boy, was I willin'!" His fingers wrapped around Chapel's hand, pulling it down to press against his erection. "Still am."
Snatching her hand back, Chapel rose from McCoy's side, stumbling backwards against Spock. The first officer caught her by the shoulders to keep her from falling and Chapel felt the heat of his naked flesh through the thin material of her gown. The powerful hands that held her were shaking and Spock released her abruptly, moving quickly away from her.
Closing her eyes, Chapel summoned the professional reserve which would be their only defense against this situation. A moment later, she turned to face the Vulcan, her expression composed. "I ... I told Libet that you and Doctor McCoy belonged to me, and she's accepted my claim. We'll be free to go in the morning."
"I commend your quick thinking, Lieutenant." Spock's desperate attempt to control reminded her painfully of the time he'd been under the influence of the parasite which attacked him on Deneva. As she watched, he swayed, a grimace of agony contorting his face.
Closing the distance between them, Chapel reached out to him, "Mister Spock, is there anything--"
Spock evaded her touch, backing away hastily. "No!"
Chapel blushed furiously. "I'm only trying to help," she snapped, the strain of the past twenty four hours finally showing in her temper. "I was just--"
McCoy moaned and Chapel moved to his side. "Leonard?"
"It hurts," McCoy writhed restlessly on the bench. "The damndest thing..."
Chapel stared in shock as McCoy began stroking his swollen penis.
Blue eyes looked up at her, and suddenly it all made sense. The pleading expression she'd seen in the males when they'd looked at her, the satisfaction of the females. These women must drug all their males. The effect might not be as pronounced in the local men, but they exhibited the same symptoms.
McCoy groaned in frustration, his hand falling away from his engorged cock. "Chris, help me!"
Chapel turned away from the desperate plea in McCoy's voice, drawing on strength she didn't know she had. "Mister Spock, can you tell me how long ago the aphrodisiacs were administered?"
"Roughly twelve hours ago?"
"Can you feel it wearing off?"
"The urge ... remains intense. However, it is controllable at this point."
"Did the discomfort diminish after ... after..." Chapel stammered, not certain why she was asking, but somehow unable to resist in spite of her embarrassment.
"Temporarily," Spock said softly.
"Poor Spock," McCoy sighed. "It's harder on you, isn't it?"
Spock raised a brow and Chapel grimaced at McCoy's choice of words, fighting a sudden urge to giggle.
"Nurse, if there is nothing further I can do here, I think it would be best if I attempted to meditate in the other room."
"Of course," Chapel whispered. "I'll stay with Leonard."
When Spock was out of earshot, McCoy motioned for Chapel to move closer. "He's worse off than I am, Chris. Remember your exobiology?"
Chapel nodded and McCoy grinned in spite of himself, reaching out to run one finger across the curve of her right breast. "Then how about an anatomy lesson, darlin'?"
Chapel's response was cut short by a muffled groan from the bedroom. "Spock," a worried frown crossed McCoy's face. "He shouldn't fight it like this, he could..."
McCoy closed his eyes. "Dear God, I hadn't even considered that ... can't think clearly, Chris. If I concentrate real hard I can fight it, but I can't keep it up," he opened his eyes and grinned. "Can't keep up the concentration, that is."
Chapel smiled in spite of herself. "It's okay, I understand." She leaned over to check his pupils.
McCoy reached out and pulled her down so her lips brushed his mouth. Caught off balance, Chapel tried to pull back, but McCoy had tangled his fingers in her hair, drawing her closer. His lips moved eagerly beneath hers, and even as Chapel resisted, she felt her heart-rate increase. McCoy's free hand slipped beneath the loose folds of her gown to caress her breast. Her gasp of surprise parted her lips and his tongue darted into her mouth.
Chapel shifted in an attempt to disengage his grip, fighting dizzily to ignore the clean scent of him, the smooth warmth of his naked chest. The kiss continued, and to her complete astonishment Chapel found herself wanting to respond. She quit struggling, experiencing a tingle of delight as he pinched her hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Leonard," she breathed.
Her voice washed over him like a bucket of ice water and McCoy released her abruptly. "Dear God, what am I doing?"
Chapel blinked in surprise, flushing guiltily. "It's the aphrodisiac." She could blame Leonard's behavior on the drug, but what excuse could she make for herself? There was no sense in denying the desire his kiss had evoked.
McCoy struggled to sit up but he was still too weak to manage it, his eyes fluttered drowsily."I'm sorry, Chris ... so tired."
"Just try to rest."
From the other room, another groan was cut short by what sounded like a whimper of pain.
"I'll take care of Spock."
"Plomeek soup ain't gonna cut it this time, darlin'."
"I know," Chapel responded as the doctor drifted into a reluctant doze.
* * *
Evening shadows were stretching across the floor of the bedroom when Chapel passed through the arch to check on the Vulcan. He was huddled in a tight ball in the center of the large bed. The tremors she had noted earlier had increased and he was moaning softly.
Libet's words came back to her: "Men were created to give pleasure, to give us comfort at the end of the day." She pushed aside her anger at the woman who had done this, concentrating only on Spock and the pleasure and comfort she could give him. He started violently at her hesitant touch, jumping from the bed as if it were a glowing ember.
"Spock, let me help you."
He grabbed her wrist in a steely grasp, clamping down with a force that frightened her. She caught his glare as he started to shove her away and stared in amazement as his expression softened into the pleading look she had seen first in the slaves, then in McCoy.
"No!" Spock's soft denial was almost a sob and instead of pushing her away, he shuddered, pulling her close and burying his head against her neck.
His embrace tightened convulsively, crushing her against him with such force that she couldn't breathe. "Spock, you're hurting me!"
Her strangled cry was silenced by a feverish kiss. Spock's tongue forced its way into her mouth, exploring with a hungry intensity. Chapel tried to draw a breath and found she couldn't. Her fear returned and she struggled, pushing at his shoulders, but he merely pulled her more securely against him.
At the moment when she was certain she would lose consciousness, he suddenly lifted her off the floor, cradling her against him. She gasped for air, her arms encircling his neck. Their eyes met and she shivered in spite of the radiated warmth of his body. His pupils were wide and his gaze blank, vacant. She wondered for a moment if he even knew where he was, or who he was with. She tried to speak to him, to snap him out of his trance-like state, but the words stalled in her aching throat.
He kissed her again, this time more leisurely, and she felt not just his physical arousal, but also the passion in his mind. It washed over her in waves of sensation and she suddenly realized what he had been trying to fight. The urge rose in her also, building from a bittersweet knot in the pit of her abdomen until it radiated outward to her extremities. Her whole body seemed to tingle with a desperate need.
"Please," Chapel squirmed in his arms, wanting only to assuage that need. "Oh, please!" Her struggling threw Spock off balance and they tumbled to the floor, Spock's shoulder cushioning her fall. Chapel twisted about, her gown slipping from her shoulder to bare a creamy breast as she leaned over the Vulcan. Her hands tore impatiently at the strip of cloth at his waist and when he attempted to rise from the floor, she pushed him back. Taking his engorged cock in her hands, she pumped the shaft back and forth. Spock gasped and arched his hips, groaning as she leaned forward to lap at the silken skin.
Chapel licked all the way around the head, then along the rigid shaft, pleased at the way he shuddered when she scraped her teeth against the firm flesh. Fondling his heavy balls, she skillfully teased and stimulated him, finally taking as much of his cock into her mouth as possible, knowing how soothing the moisture would be on his inflamed skin.
His climax took her by surprise, the spicy fluid filling her throat as his long fingers slipped into her hair and clutched her against him. She started to drink in his come, reveling in the taste, and groaned with frustration when he pulled her up to kiss her.
"Let me finish," she gasped.
"Yes ... finish," he growled. Pulling impatiently at the flowing cloth which covered her, Spock ripped it from her body and tossed it aside. Then he grabbed her by the hips, lifting her up to impale her on his still rigid shaft. Chapel, caught off guard, inhaled sharply as Spock's thick erection slipped into her wetness, pressing upward until her own weight lodged it firmly against the opening to her cervix. For a split second neither of them moved, the physical union was so satisfying, so pleasurable for Chapel that she climaxed immediately, her muscles spasming around him.
She threw her head back and cried out softly as he began to rock beneath her, the friction against her clitoris almost unbearable. Clutching at his shoulders, she felt the psionic link intensify, experiencing Spock's frantic desire as he bucked up into her with purposeful, hard strokes. She breathed his name, clamping down tightly around his shaft as she felt him come. Her climax joined with his, and she strained against his hardness, panting as the pleasure pulsed through them both.
She collapsed against his bare chest, licking a taut nipple playfully before she realized that his erection had not diminished. She raised her head in confusion as he began to move beneath her. "I thought you..." He cupped her head in his hands and pulled her face to his, kissing her breathless again.
The Vulcan moaned, increasing his rhythm and the power of his frantic thrusts. He knew only the ache which drove him, the frenzy which controlled his thoughts, his actions. It seemed that the more he experienced, the more he needed to experience, each climax becoming a foundation for the next. He not only wanted completion, he wanted to sense it in her, the ultimate orgasm, the ultimate experience. He probed her thoughts, searching for a movement, a technique which would release them, release them both the way he needed them to be released.
He found what he was searching for and groaned aloud in frustration. Impossible!
McCoy woke. He sat up, head spinning just a bit before it cleared enough to permit him to stand. His brief nap had refreshed him. He realized where he was at the same moment he heard the unmistakable sounds emanating from the adjoining room. He grinned, reaching beneath the loincloth to fondle himself. A couple of firm strokes along the throbbing shaft only increased his need and he moved as if in a daze toward the sounds.
Pausing in the archway, McCoy gaped at the writhing couple. Spock was supine on the floor and Chapel was riding him. McCoy eyed the pale, smooth invitation of her tight buttocks as they tilted back and forth in time to Spock's thrusts.
He disappeared into the bathroom and appeared a moment later, completely naked, stroking scented oil over his cock. He told himself he was just going to watch, to masturbate while Spock fucked her, but in spite of his resolve, he found himself moving closer, coordinating his own strokes with Spock's. He stared at Chapel's ass, thinking of how nice and snug it would feel around his cock.
Strong arms embraced Chapel from behind and her eyes flew open, widening in shock as McCoy's voice whispered in her ear.
"Wanna try a sandwich, darlin'?" Skilled hands pinched her nipples and the doctor's lips trailed in a tantalizing path along the hollow of her collarbone.
A shiver of anticipation traversed Chapel's spine and before she could deny the invitation, a vivid picture appeared in her mind, a fantasy so far fetched, so forbidden that she had never even been aware of it on a conscious level. She could feel McCoy's shaft nestled against her and tried vainly to cast the image aside.
Spock slowed his frantic pumping, spreading his long legs and arching his hips up to push Chapel back against McCoy. "Yes!" he gasped, feeling Chapel's excitement through the link. He looked up, savoring the sight of McCoy nibbling on Chapel's neck, his own fingers itching to knead her rosy nipples.
McCoy needed no further encouragement. Releasing Chapel's breasts to Spock's capable teasing, he spread her firm cheeks and guided his cock until it nudged just a scant centimeter into the tight nether hole. Spock's movements had slowed and now he drew Chapel's head down to fill her mouth with his tongue as McCoy pressed into her ass.
McCoy felt her wriggle deeper onto Spock as she tried to evade his initial thrust. He hitched himself forward and then paused, massaging the silky skin of her buttocks.
His body clamoring for friction, McCoy forced himself to be content for the moment with the delightful sheathing pressure. It was Spock who moved first, pushing up, and McCoy withdrew slightly, waiting for the Vulcan to relax before he slid back into that delicious tightness.
Chapel's mouth was moving frantically over Spock's, her entire body tremoring from the dual penetration. Never had she felt so full, so complete. Spock's cock probed up into her pussy, his fingers pinching her nipples, McCoy filled her from the rear, his hands stroking soothingly as he thrust into her anus. As they continued to fuck her with slow, synchronized strokes, her overstressed clitoris tightened and she bucked convulsively between them. "Spock...Leona..."
Her orgasm rippled like an electric charge, tightening both sphincters spasmodically around the plunging shafts. Spock arched up and McCoy bucked forward, climaxing together, their hot semen pulsing into her, overflowing.
For an instant, a psionic rapport flowed between the three, and their mutual pleasure and satiation became one, then once again they were three individuals, three very tired individuals who collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs into a well earned, peaceful slumber.
Chapel awoke at dawn. She was curled into the crook of Spock's arm, and McCoy's head was pillowed on her thigh. She eased herself out of Spock's embrace without waking either of them and walked stiffly to the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, she turned back, smiling slightly.
Relaxed in sleep, their hair tousled, they looked more like two little boys than starship officers. For years now Chapel had listened to their sibling-like bickering, watched as they clashed rime and time again, but she had never guessed at the depth of the camaraderie they shared. Last night she had sensed a friendship between them that bordered on a oneness of spirit. Last night they had made love to her as two halves of a whole.
When they woke, there would be hell to pay, that she knew with certainty. But right now she really didn't care. She could think of no two men in the universe who could have given her such pleasure, no memory she would cherish over her recollection of last night's ecstasy. Her smile deepened and she chuckled at the errant thought that crossed her mind. No, it would be completely unethical to ask Libet for a vial of the aphrodisiac to take with her when she left. "Absolutely not," she murmured, stretching sensuously against the arched doorway. She bit her lip as her gaze fell back on the sleeping, naked men. Well, maybe...