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By jonk (TOS, 1/1, Chekov/Sarek/others, NC-17) by jonk, copyright 2000 Disclaimer: Author's copyright applies just to the story. The characters have kindly taken a break from their work at Paramount and Viacom to do this little bit of summer stock. Summary: Ok, I know it's a big party, but can't a guy get any sleep around here? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PARTY POOPER Sixteen Standard hours and the parties celebrating the entry of the strategic Jossitur system into the Federation showed no signs of abating. At the Chakattir Palace, where he was going off duty at last, Chekov was finally wilting. "Wanna get out of here and go play chutes and ladders?" The ensign didn't even have the energy left to jump at the quiet voice in his ear. "Sulu, no. I am tired, I want to get out of this monkey suit and sleep." A pause, then a gentle touch on his shoulder, warm breath on his neck."Ah. I see. Then how about a quick game of Find the Grape?" Chekov smiled involuntarily as he remembered finding the grape in a careening shuttlecraft. No, no, he was really too tired. He pulled away. "Sulu, stop! I mean it, I'm tired." Sulu persisted. "Ships and Spacedocks?" He felt himself rising and grinning in spite of himself. He elbowed Sulu away again. "Go away!" Sulu grinned and looked around, then bent and gently licked Chekov's earlobe while sliding a warm hand down the ensign's back, briefly cupping his cheeks. "Come on, Pav, it's a party. Don't be a pooper." Chekov gasped at the sudden feel of Sulu's hand on his ass and the tongue on his earlobe. He grinned, then caught a glimpse of a formal blue Starfleet uniform coming their way through the crowd. "Psst!" They both straightened and looked formal as Spock passed them in search of a restroom, sparing them a weary glance. "Cossacks and Bolsheviks?" The hand slipped down his pants and inquisitive fingers gently pinched his ass. Chekov yelped. Sulu's voice was husky. "Remember what Nurse Chapel did to..." "All right! All right!" Chekov laughed. "Just let me get a quick nap, ok? Come to my room in an hour, it's the third floor up, eleventh door on the right." Sulu grinned behind him. "I thought you'd never ask." Chekov surveyed the crowd, surreptitiously reached back and squeezed the helmsman's cock. "Make it memorable, Sulu. See you then." Without waiting for a reply beyond the involuntary gasp, Chekov dived into the crowd, headed for the sleeping quarters. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Praise now for the esteemed Chancellor Torip, whose unflagging efforts by the grace of the Most Holy have permitted these negotiations to come to this most auspicious and fruitful conclusion!" "Ay-he, ay-he, all praise most excellent Chancellor Torip se gili Vetyssikiki." Glasses of the vile green drink were raised yet again, feet ritually stamped down on the imaginary heads of the Enemies of Wisdom, and the evil liquid poured down the gullets of several hundred politicians and diplomats. Only two more signatures to go. Sarek's head swam and his arm ached from hours of traditional Jossiturian toasts as the final ratification ground on. The drink had been tested to make sure it wasn't poisonous to the various species that would be consuming it on this momentous occasion, but it hadn't been tested to determine whether it was intoxicating to any of those species. For Vulcans and for Terrans, it was indeed intoxicating. Not so much that it was noticeable with one toast, but the signing ceremony had been going on for hours, with over fifty toasts signifying agreement to every single point in the treaty and validating every single person who had written and signed the document. As a result, Sarek was now quite drunk. Only two more signatures to go, and then he could go to his assigned quarters and join Amanda. And sleep. Aides refilled the toasting glasses. "Praise now for the illustrious Vice-chancellor Makik gi gili Motukikiki, whose hands by the grace of the Most Holy have crafted this auspicious treaty which we sign this day!" "Ay-he, ay-he, all praise most excellent Vice-chancellor Makik GI gili Motukikiki." Up went the glasses yet again, down went another dose of the unpleasant stuff. One more signature to go. Were the assigned quarters on the third floor or the fourth floor? That's right, the third floor. There had been some mix-up earlier, but his aides had assured him that it was cleared up now. Third floor. Tenth room on the left? The right? The eleventh? Never mind, he'd find it. "Praise now for the most esteemed and blessed High Lord Valtue se gulu Baikukiki, whose illustrious leadership by the grace of the Most Holy has given us this treaty of unequaled good fortune!" "Ay-he, ay-he, all praise most esteemed and blessed High Lord Valtue se gulu Baikukiki." Sarek's head swam as he lifted the final toast. Make the formal noises of congratulations and exit, and he would be free. And not a moment too soon. ~~~~~~~ "Mister Sulu!" Sulu's heart sank as Scotty caught up with him. "Sorry, navigator, but yer wanted on the bridge. Will only take a jiffy, but you need tae reset your passwords an' Uhura says she's nae gonna do it again for ye." "But..." "Sooner ye git thair, sooner ye git done. Twenty minutes, is that so bad?" Yes, yes it is so bad, Sulu wanted to reply, thinking of Chekov warming a bed for him upstairs. It's worse than bad. It's so bad that my cock is going to swell up and explode if it doesn't find its way into a certain luscious ass right now. My cock is going to get so big I won't fit through doorways if I can't have him this instant. My cock is going to get so enormous, they're going to have to beam it over first, then me, if I'm not fucking Chekov in the next five seconds. But enough about me. "Thanks for letting me know, Commander. I'll be right there." "Guid thing I caught ye before ye went up tae bed!" Scotty grinned at him and winked. "Ye hae a guid evening, then!" He cheerfully clapped Sulu on the shoulder and strode away. Sulu sighed and pulled out his communicator. It would be a good evening by Scotty's standards, certainly. Well, at least Chekov would be asleep, and wouldn't notice an extra twenty minutes. ~~~~~~~~~~ Chekov groggily awakened to the feel of a warm body slipping in to bed beside him. He blinked at the dim chronometer he'd set beside the bed, the only light in the room. Strong hands reached for him in the darkness, stroked confidently down his back, cupped his ass. He grinned. Right on time. "Mmmm, I thought you'd never get here," he murmured, snuggling in and nuzzling a hot nipple. "You take a steam bath? You're hot." He licked the nipple, which tightened appreciatively under his tongue. Sulu only moaned in surprise and pleasure, shifting against him and burying his hands in Chekov's hair. "You like that? Want more?" Chekov smiled again in the darkness, lazily licked the nipple again, then briefly held it between his teeth, nipping ever so slightly, just enough to make Sulu gasp. Another silky lick made Sulu moan again, and he lifted the nipple to Chekov's lips and held his head tight with one hand, while the other roamed his back. *Well, this is different,* Chekov mused to himself. *Sulu never found this activity so interesting before. Times change, I guess.* He began sucking at the nipple as his hands slid down Sulu's belly, gripped his cock. *That's funny. It seems bigger than before.* The cock pulsed in his hand, swelled further as Sulu groaned and pressed eagerly against him, began gently rocking his hips. *A LOT bigger. Feels a little different, too. Did Sulu call in some favor from Nurse Chapel in the last twenty minutes?* Sulu rolled over on top of him, panting slightly. "My sweet one," he murmured huskily, greedily kissing Chekov on the throat. "My beautiful sweet love." *Whoa. This IS different. I could do with more of this.* Chekov squirmed in pleasure under his lover as Sulu nibbled greedily along his clavicle. The helmsman then unexpectedly wrapped his arms around Chekov and abruptly rolled off to one side, pulling Chekov with him. Chekov blinked in surprise to find himself lying on his back atop Sulu, his shoulderblades warmed by the navigator's chest, his ass rising and falling with each gentle thrust of Sulu's hips. *Aaaand this is different too. Who has Sulu been sleeping with?* he pondered briefly, then gave himself up to the charms of feeling Sulu's slippery cock sliding between his cheeks. Splookspluk splookspluk... *Hey, where did he find cinnamon scented lube? And when did he lube up?* Splooookspluuuuuk... Sulu was silent, just holding Chekov, thrusting gently and lovingly nuzzling his ear. Then, in a single smooth motion, he swung his legs off the bed and sat up. Chekov was now sitting in his lap, utterly delighted. "Going somewhere?" he asked mischievously. His lover only began growling deep in his throat, licking and kissing Chekov. Sulu's thrusts were stronger now, and the helmsman shifted slightly, positioning his cock. Before Chekov could say anything, Sulu took a firm hold of his wrists and swiftly brought his arms up over his head. "What the...?" "Shhh, my love. My dearest one." Without warning Sulu stood up. Chekov cried out as Sulu lifted him up, dangling him full length by his wrists. He could feel the slick and swollen head of Sulu's hard cock nestling tight against his anus. "What are you doing?" Chekov squeaked, stunned. He knew Sulu had been working out, but this sudden strength was beyond belief. How could Sulu even lift him like this, he wasn't that much taller...he wasn't even straining, and his hot grip on Chekov's wrists was surprisingly comfortable. And then he felt Sulu begin to lower him. "Hey! Carefu-hu-hul...oh! Slow...Stop! No don't..." Chekov started kicking as gravity worked with his body weight to push him inexorably onto the big slippery cock. Sulu ignored his cries and struggles, just kept on dropping him down like an orange onto a juicer. Chekov began panting heavily and gave up kicking, just spread his legs wide, wider to accommodate the helmsman. They both cried out as the head of the cock finally pushed into the ensign's tight ass, the full thick length of it plunging fully into him as he abruptly slid down onto it, stopped only by Sulu's hips. The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing. Chekov couldn't believe what was happening to him, couldn't believe he was being fucked while being dangled in midair. The huge cock in him throbbed and seemed to swell even larger. "Te hal'khu va akihu'u," Sulu whispered in his ear, kissing him. *He's talking Vulcan now,* Chekov noted distantly. "Whatever. Just don't stop!" And then, amazingly, Sulu began to walk. The motion of the helmsman's thighs against Chekov's ass caused the cock to shift deliciously inside him, and the hot smooth skin sliding against his cheeks drove him wild. He began kicking again, laughing, gasping as Sulu shifted his grip so only one hand held his wrists, and the other slipped around his waist. "Faster!" It was a big room, but Sulu didn't need much space to trot in circles. "Oh! Bozhe! Moi!" Chekov shrieked as he was bounced on that incredible cock. He'd asked for something memorable, and Sulu was certainly delivering. He'd find out how later. Sulu staggered as they ran into the bed, lost his grip on Chekov's wrists. They both fell forward onto the bed, driving the cock even more deeply into the ensign as Sulu fell forward on top of him. The navigator gripped Chekov's hips and without further ado began pumping madly, a hard, fast pace that took Chekov's breath away. "Rhe, rhe, Amanda! Amanda, beautiful, beautiful...Perhai'te lai..." The rest of it was lost in an inarticulate panting and growling as Chekov's eyes widened as he finally put two and two together. This wasn't Sulu. He was being thoroughly fucked by Ambassador Sarek, who clearly thought he was with his wife, not some Star Fleet ensign off of his son's ship. How...? "Ambass...(thrust)...ador (thrust)...I'm not...(thrust thrust thrust)... ah ebat'!" Chekov gave up. It was all he could do to just hang on to the bed as Sarek hammered into him, clearly in no mood for idle chitchat. With a cry Sarek suddenly seized Chekov's hips tightly and pressed as deeply as he could into him, his fingers digging into the smooth globes of Chekov's ass and into his hipbones. Chekov screamed as he felt the Vulcan hauling him off the bed, and tried to grab onto anything to prevent himself from falling on the floor. His hands found and gripped tightly to the blankets, and dragged them with him as Sarek stepped back and began to spin around. "WhoaWhoa..." Chekov couldn't help it. Pleasure flooded in as alarm ebbed, and he began laughing as he and the blankets and the world whirled in the warm darkness around that amazing cock. He let the blankets go and just let his arms and legs fly as Sarek shouted his lust behind him, whirling like a mad dervish with Chekov held tight to him. And finally, finally, Sarek staggered back to the bed and dropped him down on it again, settling into a steady driving slippery fucking, harder and harder and harder. Chekov helplessly whimpered, laughed, screamed, cried, begged, kicked, pounded the mattress, bit the sheets, bit his own arms, finally reached down and began masturbating, using Sarek's slick. The Vulcan's pace quickened even further, and Chekov could feel the big cock flaring inside him, swelling tighter. *O god he's going to come...* "Nnnggh!" Chekov came as Sarek cried out and stiffened, the Vulcan's hot seed spurting deep into him, again and again. *Eleven...twelve...thirteen...bozhe moi, is he never going to stop coming?* Above him Sarek whimpered, shivered and convulsed, the Vulcan's fingers tightening and releasing their grip on his hips. *Great. Just great,* Chekov pondered glumly. *That's going to bruise for sure, and how am I going to explain such bruises to Sulu?* With a great sigh of release Sarek finally collapsed on top of him, panting, dripping with sweat. "Get off me!" Chekov gasped, trying to breathe. "Honey," he added, pitching his voice higher in an effort to imitate Amanda's voice. He tugged at one of Sarek's wrists; the Vulcan limply followed it and rolled to the side, already fast asleep and breathing deeply. Chekov lay there for a few minutes more, luxuriating in a warm sexual wooze, feeling Sarek's hot come slowly dribbling out of him, and lazily he wondered if he'd ever be able to stand again. "Wow," he softly breathed. Was this what Sarek and Amanda did behind closed doors on a regular basis? That would explain why she gave up Earth for life on Vulcan. "Wow, wow, wow." He'd been tired before these exertions, and now the call of a good night's sleep was even more insistent. Chekov snuggled into a pillow and willingly followed Sarek down into dreams, pleasantly lulled by the heat of the Vulcan's body and the steadiness of his breath. Until a single name drifting into his thoughts brought him back to full awareness. Chekov's eyes snapped open. Sulu. He started, craned his neck to look again at the chronometer. The navigator was late, which meant he was likely going to show up any minute now. If he knew Sulu, the man would leap enthusiastically into bed, and find...oh no. No no no. Don't want to be here when that happens. Panic set in. What to do? He couldn't move Sarek, couldn't get him dressed and carried out the door alone, and off the top of his head he couldn't find a way to explain to Sulu what he was doing with the Vulcan ambassador sleeping naked on his obviously much abused bed. *Come on, Chekov, think. You were the best tactician in the Academy, you should be able to figure a way out of this situation.* Amanda! That was it. If he could find a way to get her here, he could just swap rooms, and if he didn't get a chance to warn Sulu in time, well, the helmsman would understand that it was all just an unfortunate mistake, that he should have showed up on time and none of this would have happened. But which room was she in? While Sarek slept on beside him, Chekov frantically cast about for ideas on how to find out, quickly and without arousing any suspicions. And once he knew where she was, what to tell her to make sure she changed rooms immediately? His mind went blank. *Pavel, you are so screwed. When Sarek wakes up in the morning and compliments Amanda on the great sex they had last night, it won't take either of them long to add two and two together and come up with Ensign Chekov. End one career right there.* But what if Amanda got laid as well, thinking it was Sarek? The question sat and posed itself prettily for him, this way, then that. No no no no no. Chekov mentally erased that blackboard. No. Don't even think of going there. All right then. Just ignore what's going to happen when Sarek and Amanda figure out he had sex with a Star Fleet ensign the previous night. Maybe they won't talk about it at all. *Whatever you do,* he thought, *you had better act fast, because Sulu is going to beam down any moment now. Better to have Amanda here before Sarek and Sulu...no no no no no. Don't go there either. * Think, Pavel, THINK. Captain Kirk is decisive. What would he do? Think think think... Mr. Spock! Duh. Mr. Spock would know what room his parents were in. HA! Problem solved. Pavel, you are a genius.* Feeling mighty pleased with himself, Chekov carefully rolled out of bed, trying not to disturb Sarek. The Vulcan lay like a log, oblivious to the world. Chekov's legs buckled under him and he fell, knocking over the nightstand; the light crashed to the floor and smashed crisply. Chekov froze. Sarek snorted and stirred briefly, then settled back into the steady breathing of deep sleep. Gingerly Chekov gathered up his few things, found a way to stand on wobbly legs and tiptoe over to the bathroom, where he shut the door and turned on the light, hoping he could get dressed and presentable, and had all his belongings with a minimum of further noise. "S'hazda, 'Manda! Hurry back to your Dudu!" The ambassador's groggy voice was slurred with sleep. Startled, Chekov choked, fumbled and dropped his shaver on the tile floor, where it too shattered. Damn damn damn. He stooped to hurriedly scoop up the pieces and stuff them into his duffel bag, while outside in the dark room, Sarek began snoring. Chekov hopped around trying to step into his pants without moving his aching legs much, then slithered into his shirt, not bothering with his undergarments, just shoving everything into the bag. Dudu? He snorted. Like *that's* logical. He struggled with his boots, ran quick fingers through his hair, then picked up his bag, shut off the light and cautiously opened the door. Sarek snored on. Chekov tiptoed as quickly and quietly as he could to the door to the room, felt along the wall until he found the latch. Turned it. The tumblers clanked loudly in the wall. The sheets whooshed as Sarek moved, sat up. "Amanda?" Chekov's throat tightened with terror. Say something! "It's a sale, Dudu! Next floor up. I'll be right back!" he trilled. Idiot! Idiot! Where had that stupid, inane, lame, utterly pathetic excuse for an excuse come from? It would never fool Sarek in a million years. Never! He was doomed. Career over. Idiot! You should never have opened your mouth, you sounded nothing like Amanda. Why didn't you just... "Hurry back, light of my life. I await thee." Chekov's jaw sagged open in utter shock. It took him a long moment before he recovered his wits enough to yank open the door and flee. The lights in the hallway were painfully bright as he shut the door behind him and took several deep breaths. All right. This won't be that difficult. Just go to Commander Spock's room, explain the bogus situation, get Amanda's room number, and convince her that there'd been a mix-up, that she needed to go to a different room. Five minutes, tops, and the problem would be solved and he'd be snuggling down in a nice clean bed. And Sulu would be walking into a difficult situation from which he'd have to find his own way out. He grinned. Serve the man right for grabbing his ass in a public venue like that. Whistling, he set off down the hall, and knocked on Spock's door. Muffled voices on the other side of the door answered his knock, then sudden silence. That's odd. He knocked again. Nothing. He put his ear to the door to listen, then knocked a third time. "Co-ming!" Spock's voice sounded oddly strangled. Muffled voices again, and some strange thumps. A crash. Chekov grinned, knowing the sound of a bedside table tangling in legs and sending a lamp hurtling to the floor. He stepped back away from the door as footsteps approached. Spock opened the door a crack, not letting him see any further into the darkened room. Chekov opened and shut his mouth a couple times in surprise. Spock's hair was mussed, his clothing was slightly disheveled and his face was flushed; Chekov wasn't sure he had the right person. "M-Mr. Spock?" "Ensign Chekov. I presume you have a purpose for disturbing my rest?" Even discomfited, Spock attempted to put on a formidable show. Tonight however, Chekov wasn't buying, not with his anus still aching from the depredations of a Vulcan penis. If you were resting I'll eat my chair. "Ah...er...a mix-up. Your mother is supposed to be in my room." Spock reared back and raised an eyebrow. "What?" Come on, Pavel, you're tired, but pull it together, all right? You got out of worse scrapes in the Academy. Piece of cake, da? He straightened into an officer's stance. "Begging your pardon, sir! Your father is asleep in the room I thought was mine. Could you tell me please where your mother is?" Spock's brows furrowed ominously. "Ensign Chekov, you are making no sense. Why would my father be sleeping in your room, and what has my mother got to do with this?" Chekov began to sweat. "Just a miscommunication, sir. I wanted to let your mother know where the ambassador is. She may be in the room I was assigned to." Spock gazed at him even more intently. "I seriously doubt that, Ensign. As representatives of Vulcan, my parents are two floors up in the royal suites. Now what is this about my father sleeping in your room?" Great. Piece of cake, you said. Looks like you left it out in the rain. So much for that recipe. Chekov stood there stupidly looking up at Spock, casting about for an answer. His eyes settled on Spock's shirt and stuck there. "Ensign?" Chekov shook himself, aware he was about to say something stupid but unable to help himself. "Mr. Spock...your shirt is on backwards!" Spock stiffened and involuntarily glanced down at himself, while in the darkened room behind him erupted the unmistakable laughter of Captain James T. Kirk. Chekov's jaw dropped as to his further astonishment Spock turned several shades of green. "Ensign Chekov, you have a genius for observing the obvious. I will remember that fact in the duty roster assignments next week. Is there anything else?" His murderous look made it clear that the conversation had ended. "No sir." "Good night, then." Chekov found himself staring at a firmly closed door. He heard a muffled *Aw come on, Spock, don't be like that. What was I supposed to do? It was funny!" and realized that Captain Kirk would probably not be in a good mood the following morning. Which meant nothing good for a certain ensign. Resigned, he set off down the hall. *Hmmn. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock. The tomcat and the data chip. I wouldn't have guessed that one in a million years!" A couple more steps. *Wonder if Mr. Spock takes after his father.* He paused, trying to contemplate Mr. Spock whirling Kirk around with his big green dick up the captain's ass. No. No no no, don't go there, it's just too weird. He took a few more steps, then a slow grin spread across his face as he contemplated what the information might be worth to someone who could help him get into the royal suites. He broke into a trot. Bambambam! "Uhura! Wake up! It's important!" *Doesn't anybody read at night anymore?* BambamBamba... Uhura yanked her door open and dodged his fist, grabbed it. "This better be good, Mister." Chekov gaped. "Lieutenant Uhura, you...you're..." "Good enough. Get in here." She pulled him into the room and shut the door behind him. She folded her arms across her chest with a sly smile as she leaned against it, what little syntheleather she wore creaking as she moved. Her index finger tapped lazily on the handle of a whip. A sound behind him made him turn. "Commander Scott!" "You just never learn not to butt into other people's business, do you?" Uhura cooed, prodding him further into the room with the whip. Scotty looked up at him, but said nothing. Whether or not he had something to say was moot; he was lying gagged and hog-tied on the bed, his cheeks rosy, and an ostrich feather arching proudly from his buttcrack, fluttering gently with every pulse. Beside him on the nightstand was an assortment of paddles and pins and other devices Chekov either didn't recognize or didn't want to recognize. "Uh...nice socks, Commander," Chekov said faintly, observing that they were the only article of clothing Commander Scott was wearing. Mr. Spock was right, he thought morosely to himself. A genius for observing the obvious. Scotty glared wordlessly at him. "Interesting that you should notice them, Mr. Chekov. Commander Scott and I were just discussing them." Chekov rather doubted that, but he thought better of sharing his opinion. "Lieutenant Uhura, I'm sorry to have interrupted your evening, but I need your help." Chekov saw Scotty's statement turned to interest as he watched Uhura, still toying with the whip, take a lazy step toward the nervous ensign. "Go on." "I need to talk with Mr. Spock's mother, which means I need to get into the royal suites and find where she is. I need to do it fast." Uhura and Scotty exchanged glances. "Oh really?" She put her hands on her hips. "Being the communications officer and all, I thought you...might..." he finished lamely. Uhura looked mystified. "Pavel, why do you need to talk to Spock's mother at this hour?" "Because Sulu will be here any minute!" he exploded in frustration, then his eyes widened and he put his hand to his mouth. Oops. Uhura cocked her head. "Interesting." She exchanged glances with the silent Commander Scott. "There seems to be a story here that you're not telling us, Ensign Chekov. " "I can't..." "I might be able to help, but if you won't tell me what I'm getting into, I won't know what you really need. Besides, as you can see, the Commander and I are a little...busy tonight." She grinned at Scotty and smacked the handle of the whip into her palm. Both men jumped. "All right!" Chekov gave a fatalistic shrug. "Sulu and I...were...going to get together tonight. But something happened and now I need to talk to Mr. Spock's mother so things don't get worse. I'm not at liberty to say more about this, Lieutenant! But if you'll help me, I do know something else that might interest you." She examined her fingernails, bored, then the grin returned. "Uh-uh, sugar. You want my help, you're going to have to remember who's driving this bus. Honey, I'll give you a hint. It's not you." "But...!" "Shhh." She came over to him and gently tapped the butt of the whip against his lips. "I happen to know you've got a little time before Mr. Sulu gets here. So if you're not going to tell me your little story, why don't you just set yourself down on those pretty little knees of yours and ask me again real nice if I'll help you out." "This is blackmail!" Fire in her eyes, Uhura cracked the whip sharply over his head, close enough for him to feel the wind in his hair. He quickly dropped to his knees. "No, hon. It's barter." She strolled around behind him. He felt her foot on his shoulder, pushing him forward. "It's called, you give me what I want, and I give you what you need. And right now, boy, you look like you need a little discipline." She pushed his face to the ground, nudged his ass up a little further with her toe, then went to fetch something from the nightstand.. "Wait!" She paused. "What if I told you Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were lovers?" A muffled sound from the bed. "Welcome to Star Fleet, honey," Uhura purred, and gave his ass a sharp smack with a paddle. Chekov yelped and jumped. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Whinny again!" "Whree-hee-hee!" "That's not good enough. And my ponies don't trot like that. My ponies prance real fancy. Knees up!" -Whhi-Crack!- Chekov was panting heavily as he and an equally struggling Scotty lifted their knees higher with each trot. Naked, their balls harnessed together with Mr. Scott's socks, Chekov's shirt sleeves running between their legs and the shirt tied to a scarf that Uhura held firmly while she cracked the whip, the two men were both dripping with sweat and about ready to drop from trotting, galloping and cantering around the room playing Show Horse for the last half hour. Uhura, however, knew just how far to push them. "Whoa, there! Whoa! Time for my fine show ponies to head for the stables." With flicks of the rope, Uhura guided them to the bed, where they stood quivering as she unharnessed them. She studied Chekov speculatively as she rewarded Commander Scott by absently popping a sugar cube into his mouth. "Either of you boys want to play "Mares and Stallions?" Chekov thought of those luscious breasts he'd been ogling for the last half hour, and then thought of his hands on them. He knew better than to answer verbally by now, but his penis bobbed stiffly in the affirmative. So did Commander Scott's. "Oh, goody!" Uhura went over to the nightstand, where she pulled out a strap-on, and proceeded to do just that. The men eyed her nervously as she got out a bottle of lube and poured a generous dollop into her palm, and put on a show of smeared it liberally over her strap-on. She handed Chekov the bottle of lube. "Lube," she commanded. He hesitated, and she thrust out her hips warningly. He hastily filled his palm with lube and reached down to lubricate himself. "Not you. Him." "Nyet! Ni khuya! No way!" Chekov flung the lube down and stormed toward the door. Uhura solicitously opened it for him, and he angrily stomped out into the hallway. He was halfway down the hall before he heard the door to her room click shut, and only then did he realize he was stark naked, with an erection, a telltale sock burn around his balls and Sarek's fingerprints bruising his hips. With a curse he dived for the nearest door, yanked it open and hurtled in. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Well, Ensign Chekov! I'm happy to see you too!" Chekov screamed and whirled around, plastering himself against the door in terror. There was McCoy, lying on his bed, papers in hand and surrounded by scattered data chips and papers, the light tilted to give him better reading light. He eyed Chekov with some amusement for a moment, then took a sip of some vile green liquid on the nightstand beside the bed. "There's another glass in the bathroom, if you want some." He lifted the bottle beside the glass, waggled it. "Not bad after you've had a few." "Doctor McCoy, I can explain..." McCoy waved his hand. "I'm sure you can. Doesn't matter. This kind of thing happens all the time in Star Fleet." He took another sip, peered more closely at Chekov. "You okay? Come here and let me take a look at you, Ensign." "I'd rather stay over here, if it's all the same to you." "Ensign Chekov, I'm a doctor, not an eagle. I can't see you well enough from there. You look like you've got some bruising. So come here." "No, I'm fine, I'm comfortable right here, thank you." "Mister Chekov, get over here before I schedule you for a rectal exam." *With all due respect, sir, it should be obvious that someone else has already beaten you to it.* "It's nothing, sir. I just...um...tripped over a nightstand." "What?" Concerned, McCoy set aside his papers and got up, came over to him. "Hold still, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to do a quick examination." He took one look at the sock burn and suppressed a grin. "You, ah, talk to Uhura lately?" *A Star Fleet officer may stretch the truth but he does not lie.* "We work the same shift, sir." "Hmmn." McCoy bent down to get a closer look. "Did you say hello to Sulu, then?" "No sir. Commander Sco..." Chekov fell silent. "..tt. The name is Scott. Some people call him Scotty, I've heard. Interesting. Scotty was there, and Lieutenant Sulu wasn't, eh? I wonder what that's all about." His examination moved on to the bruises blossoming on Chekov's hips, and his eyes narrowed. "I see you've been talking to Mister Spock as well." "No, sir!" McCoy gave him the bent eye. "I've been around the block a couple times, Ensign. I've heard that these bruises come from slipping and falling down a Jeffries tube, I've heard about them coming from sharp corners on command chairs, and you know, all I can say is that Vulcan fingers seem to get around, if you know what I mean and I think you do. Let me get my hemolyzer, that'll take care of those." "You're not going to demand that I tell you what's going on?"Chekov was incredulous. McCoy walked over to the nightstand, opened it. "Nope." A pause. "Why not?" Another bent eye. "It's pretty obvious, Ensign. Lieutenant Uhura, Commander Scott AND Spock, and the evening is still young. Very impressive." "Doctor McCoy, it's not like that!" "Hold still." McCoy came back over to him and waved the hemolyzer slowly over the bruises. Chekov's hips tingled pleasantly as he watched the bruises fade. "Now you won't have to explain those to Lieutenant Sulu." "How did you...?" "Just a hunch. Don't suppose you want some clothes, too, or are you in a hurry?" McCoy snorted. "Or should I say, still?" Chekov snatched the proffered shirt and glared at him. "Thank you, and it is not like that at all." "Suit yourself. Speaking of which, you want some pants to go with that shirt?" "Yes, please." McCoy went back and rummaged around in a duffel bag at the foot of the bed, pulled out a pair of pants, came back and handed them to Chekov, then watched as the young man pulled on the ill-fitting garment. "You look exhausted, son. If you asked an old country doctor for his advice, he'd probably suggest that you call it a night and get some sleep." "That's what I've been trying to do for the last two hours!" "Then what were you doing with Uhura, Scott and Spock?" "For the last time, IT WASN'T MR. SPOCK!" McCoy made a show of staggering back and rubbing his ears. "All right, Ensign, if you say so. Was he a Jeffries tube or a command chair?" Chekov's shoulder's slumped. "Fine. Doctor McCoy, can I trust you?" "I'm a doctor, aren't I?" "Forget it." Chekov turned and reached for the door. "Okay, okay! What's the problem?" Chekov was surprised it only took five minutes to explain the situation. McCoy rubbed his chin. "I'm sorry for teasing you about Spock, son. We'll get this squared away. In the meantime, are you okay?" "He really thought I was his wife, Doctor. And I thought he was Sulu. We both made an honest mistake. I can cope." "Good for you. I'll schedule a couple of follow-up appointments with you to be sure, though, and I'll have a word with Uhura all the same. You only posted to the Enterprise a month ago; I'd like to keep you aboard." "I was the top tactician in my class, Doctor McCoy. I'd like to speak with her myself." McCoy gave him a warning look. "Just be sure you two don't get too caught up in "Phasers and Hailing Frequencies Open" to show up for duty on time, ok?" "Of course, sir. But about that sleep problem..." "Hmmn. Looks like you're out a room, son. Tell you what." McCoy pulled out his communicator. "I'll schedule you for a two hour exam first thing in the morning. No, no, hear me out. You get up to the ship and spend that extra time sleeping in your cabin. ALONE, you hear me? No Jeffries tubes, no ponies, no human whirligigs, all right?" "Yes sir!" Chekov could have kissed him. "But what about Amanda?" "I'll handle Amanda." He grinned, flicked open his communicator. "Enterprise! Transporter room, please fix on Ensign Chekov's coordinates. One to beam up." He stepped back away from Chekov. "Now scoot." "Thank you, Doctor McCoy." The room began to shimmer as he saw McCoy merely grin and wave, then the beam took him and the room was gone. ~~~~~~~~ "You'll handle Amanda, eh?" McCoy turned and grinned as Amanda emerged from the bathroom and leaned up against the bathroom door, winsome in her thin pink silk robe. "You bet I will, honey. It's an all night job." He crossed the room and fell on his knees before her, slid his hands up under her robe and began kissing her thighs. "Oh, Leonard, you make me weak in the knees!" She laughed and guided his head upward. "Mmmphl...doing my job, ma'ammmphlmmph!" McCoy reached up, tugged on her hips and brought her down to the floor, where they laughed and kissed and wrestled together. "Will you show me that technique...stop it, Leonard, I'm asking a question! Will you show me now that technique Sarek was asking about earlier?" "Mmmm...which one?" "You tease!" "Ow!" "You know, the one that starts doggy-style and..." "Oooh, yes, that one. 'Southern Comfort,' it's called. One of my personal favorites. Ma'am, it's my pleasure to show it to you. Roll over." "Like thi...Oh! Leonard! Mo...oh..more...OH!" McCoy closed his eyes as a beatific smile spread across his face. "Ma'am, the Doctor is in." ~~~~~~ Chekov stumbled wearily off of the transporter pad with barely enough energy left to wave a greeting to the transporter technician on duty. He ignored the stares of the crewmembers he passed on the way to his cabin. *So my clothes don't fit. Get over it,* he grumbled to himself under his breath. The door to his cabin whooshed open, he marched straight over to his bunk and fell face first onto it. "Sleeeeeeeeeep..." he murmured, happy at last. "Well, look what the cat dragged in." Chekov blearily cracked an eye open. Sulu stood there in the bathroom door, his short robe hanging open as he toweled his hair. "Couldn't wait for me, eh?" Chekov opened both eyes and rolled onto his side. "Sulu, this is my cabin." "Wrong, comrade. Yours is next door. This is mine. I thought I'd take a shower before coming to see you, and lo, here you are, you hot, luscious..." Sulu dropped the towel and took a running leap onto him. "Sulu!" With a crack the bed collapsed under them. Tired as he was, spontaneous laughter erupted from him as he and Sulu wrestled with his clothes. "Where'd you get this godawful uniform?" "Doctor McCoy...hahaha! Come on, Sulu, he said I was supposed to sleep alone tonight!" "Are you sleeping?" "No, but..." "Why were you talking to Doctor McCoy? Never mind. He prescribe anything else?" "HAHAHA stop that! He...heehee...he said no Jeffries tubes! Bwahahahaha!" "What?!?" "Guess you had to be there." Chekov wiped a tear off his cheek. "Oh, and no whirligigs, either." "Whirligigs? What have they got to do with sleep?" "BAAAHhahahaha! And NO PONIES! Hoohahaha!" Sulu's eyes narrowed, and he roughly pulled the pants off the giggling Chekov. McCoy had indeed healed the bruises, but he'd pointedly left the sock burn. "Nyota! But I was only gone for...Ah. So that's why she made me come back up here to fiddle with those passwords." Chekov's giggles faded as he watched a slow grin spread across Sulu's face. "Well. I think we can do better than ponies." "Sulu, come on, it's late, and I'm..." Chekov gasped as the helmsman bent down and slowly, gently began kissing, licking and sucking on Chekov's tender scrotum. A pause. "Feel any better?" "N-not yet!" Chekov closed his eyes and bit his lip, then sighed happily and relaxed. Sulu bent his head and tenderly sucked Chekov's balls into his mouth, ran his tongue over the sensitive skin. All tension flowed out of Chekov's legs and he let them flop limply to either side of the helmsman. "Moufth m-ouph-now?" "Mmmmmmmsknnnnxxx..." Sulu let the sleeping ensign's balls slip from his mouth, propped himself up on his elbow and sighed. "Looks like that's all, folks!" Resigned, he snuggled up between Chekov's legs and using the ensign's softening penis for a pillow, he too closed his eyes, settled in and set off in search of a dream. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Good night, Scotty." "Good night, Nyota." "'Night, Spock." "I fail to understand why you need to mention to me that we are on a point on the planet Jossitur's surface that due to rotational forces have placed us on the opposite..." "Just go to sleep, Spock." "Sleep well, Jim." "See you in my dreams, Len." "Mmm. Don't let the bed bugs bite, Amanda." "Ow! Ohh, you..." G'night, Sulu." "Sleep tight, Chekov." "Nighty-night, Dudu!" "....mmmm...(snort)....(skritch skritch)...oh yes...John-boy...hmmblhmmm..." ... "JOHN-BOY? WHO'S JOHN-BOY?" -Just a TV character from a long time ago. Go to sleep, all y'all. You're still on the air. Pause. "Is s/he gone?" "I think so. How do you like that. All that work we put in and jonk's off thinking of other tv shows! What a two-timing bum." "Doesn't appreciate us at all, if you ask me." "My butt's *still* sore!" "Uhura, I think this is one of your pins still in my bush." "Really? I thought I'd got them all. Sorry!" "Will you people pipe down? I don't want to wake up Sarek." "Oh, relax, Amanda, he won't wake up." "He just might. I don't want to..." "HEY SAREK! GUESS WHAT? YOUR WIFE JUST PORKED LENNIE!" "SHHH!" "I'm telling you, he's not gonna..." "My mother did no such thing." "Spock...just go to sleep. That goes for the rest of you, too. Tomorrow is another day." 'But..." "SLEEP." "Oh for...Yes, Captain." "Sheesh." ... "SKNNNXXX..." "Great. Now he's snoring." "Good NIGHT, Ensign." "Good night, Captain." "'Night, Nyota." ... ... "SknERRRRRKKK..." "Anybody got any earplugs?" "No, but if you hold his lips together like this I bet you can get some honest answers out of him. Hey Sarek! What do you think of disco?" "SSKknnnnxxxxx-thplthplthpl...." "HAha, that's great! Let me try! O great Oracle, the one who sees all and knows all, please accept this humble question from thy groveling supplicant...what do you think of Sulu's performance in this story?" "Hey!" "Quit shoving, you had your turn. And in response, thus spake the Sarek Oracle..." "SSKknnnnxxxxx-thplthplthpl...." "Bwaaahahaha!" "Wait. Look! What's Captain Kirk doing?" "He's got the Spanking List...and he's crossing names off of it!" Pause. "I don't know about you, but I'm asleep." "Me too." "SSKknnnnxxxxx-thplthplthpl...." ~~~~~~~~~~ Na Konyetz (The End) Please click here to feedback the author. Your comments will be forwarded. Thank you. Back to the Archive |