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From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:16:02 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW KMcFF TOS Magnolia And Other Pleasures 1/1 Mc, K/Mc [NC-17] challenge
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Title:  Magnolia And Other Pleasures
Author:  J. Juls (jjuls @ tbc.net)
Series:  TOS
Rating:  NC-17
Codes:  Mc , K/Mc
Summary:  An alternate version of a certain TOS episode.  You have to guess
Disclaimer:  All will become one with the Paramount.  You will become one
with the Paramount.  You will adapt to service them.  And they own the ST
universe too, blahblah.

MAGNOLIA AND OTHER PLEASURES

All alone.  Leonard sank further into the purple quinzolite pillows and
reflected  upon his state. Alone ... at last!  No new recruits with stubbed
toes in the middle of the night.  No overzealous lieutenants spraining
ankles on the rec deck.  No nothing.  Just him and the sun and the beach.
His tent was open on the south side, the local star just beginning to warm
him.  Then there was only a straw mat  and the pillows atop it, with a
washroom and a few neccessities over in the corner.  And silence.

But not total silence, he considered as he reclined there, relaxing more
deeply.  His senses, so attenuated by the background noise of the ship --
the thrum of warp engines, the wash of life support, the beep of monitors --
were now becoming more acute.  He heard the surf in the distance, along with
the hypnotic drone of insects and musical warbling from a lone, exotic shore
bird.  So like Earth ... he hadn't been back for ages, couldn't even
remember when the last time had been.

Barely perceptible, another sound came to him on the sea air -- a dissonant
windchime, clashing with the harmonious ocean music.  He didn't really like
the windchime.  It was a reminder of metal, manufacturing, civilization; all
the things he was trying to leave behind him.

The windchime faded away and was gone.  Must have been a shift in the
breeze, sending the sound toward him and away.  He sighed, drifting off into
thought ... his childhood in Georgia, bursting out his front door on a warm
day, not a worry in his head.  He'd climb the magnolia tree out front, in
the spring when it was all rosy flowers and no leaves, thinking that no one
had ever had such a view as  he could get from up in that tree.  In fact, he
could almost smell the flowers now.

Actually ...

His gauzy reverie was broken then, because he *could* smell the flowers.  He
looked around, and there it was over in the corner; a large vase on the
floor, filled with branches -- magnolia branches, covered in huge, fragrant
blooms.  Now, why hadn't he noticed those before?  It must have been all the
stress on the ship, numbing his senses to the point where little things
didn't count; only life-and-death matters were worthy of his full attention.
That must have been it.

You're under a lot of stress, Leonard, he told himself.  No, his mental
state was not optimal.  Too many missions, too much danger; injured crewmen,
some whom he couldn't help.  After a while that could really wear a man
down.

He yawned and stretched.  The sun was rising higher now, the rectangle of
bright light beginning to move across his bare legs and belly.  He basked in
the heat, but after a while he felt a sweat begin to break out on his
forehead.  It was just a tad too hot.

Halfheartedly, he considered moving the pillows over a bit so more of him
would be in the shade.  But the sun baked him with its light, baked him
until his muscles went limp under its touch.  He felt that he never wanted
to move again.  Although his forehead, and now the rest of his body, were
becoming damp with perspiration, he felt languid, helpless to do anything.

He was almost expecting the light breeze when it came to cool him, so
perfect had everything been here thus far.  It caressed his face and tossed
his hair gently.  When his eyes slipped shut, he didn't feel the need to
stop them.

*

Leonard took a deep breath, surfacing easily from his doze.  He rubbed his
eyes to look around him.  No, not much time had passed.  The sun was in
almost the same place it had been before; more telling, he didn't feel the
groggy discomfort of waking from deep sleep.  What he did feel was
refreshed, in a way he hadn't in a long time.  Maybe a swim in the ocean
would be good ... what was that?

On the small table at his left elbow, there sat a silver cup, piled with
ice, a straw peeking out of the top.  And a green leaf.  He'd know it
anywhere -- a mint julep.  As he stared, he saw waves of moisture condensing
out of the air, adding to the frost on the cup.  Just fresh, then.

Hesitantly, he took it -- very cold to his wondering touch.  So the help
must have brought it while he slept, then ... but how did they know that he
would like it?  Maybe Jim had mentioned it, though.  More importantly, how
did they know when he would wake?  Just a lucky guess?  And there were no
footprints in the sand, now that he looked.  But they'd probably beamed it
in.  No big deal.

He took an experimental taste.  Ahhh, alcohol heat mixed with icy cold,
sweet mixed with harsh.  Just the way Granddad had made them, so long ago.
He remembered being about fourteen; Granddad had figured he was old enough.
Oh, they had tasted good all right.  Too good.  He'd had more than enough,
of course; wound up venting warp plasma half the night, sick as a Targ the
next day.  He chuckled.  Didn't everyone have a teenage episode like that to
remember?

He drank deeply of the liquid and felt a warmth that didn't come from the
sun.  Memories -- this place seemed to leach them out of a person.  Too much
time, too much aloneness, just to sit and contemplate, and ... he had a
twinge.

A twinge that he had only one way to relieve.

But he was out in the open here.  Anybody could just walk by.  Who was going
to, though?  He set the half-empty cup back on the table.  Sure, Jim was
staying just around the other side of the cove, but he'd doubtless be busy
with water skiing or somesuch ... thinking of Jim made the twinge worse.

What the hell?  He'd just take a few precautions.  Leaning way over, he
managed to snag a fluffy, white beach towel, which he spread over his lap.
Could always pretend he was going to take a swim.  If anybody walked by,
which they wouldn't.

He reached under his loose shorts -- whoo!  Cold hands!  They eventually
warmed up.  He reached deep into his mind as well, reached to those
fantasies that he barely ever indulged, even in private moments.  But here
on this isolated planet, this was the most private moment of all, and he
couldn't stop himself.  Captain --  Jim -- you hold yourself away from all
of us, hold yourself away from me.  I wish you didn't have to do that.  Suck
me, Jim.  Yes, Doctor.

This particular fantasy had lain dormant for months, and its power was
incredible.  In only seconds, he was rock-hard and well on the way to
climax.  No, it couldn't end so soon.  He had to slow down.  Although it
wasn't easy, he opened his eyes and stilled his hand, but he didn't release
his grip.  He wanted to keep the glorious hardness and sensitivity for as
long as possible before succumbing to his release.  So, luckily, he wasn't
doing anything overt when somebody walked around the corner and waved hello.

"Hi, Bones."

"Jim!  :::cough:::  Jim."  He thought frantically.  "I, uh, was just going
for a swim in the ocean."  Yeah, that's the ticket.  "Um, you want to join
me?"  No problem.  He'd just hold the towel loosely in front of him until he
got to the cold water; that would fix him soon enough.  And he still had his
shorts on.

"No."  And, like the beetles he had collected in his childhood, Len was
fixed to the spot.  Jim's gaze raked him, burned him.  He had never seen
anything so intense from his captain.  Not focused on him, at least.  No, he
was good ol' sawbones, the casual friend, the mentor, the -- dare he say
it -- father figure.  It wasn't meant to be between him and the captain, yet
here and now ... the situation seemed to be changing.  Leonard could only
sit, motionless, as Jim advanced toward him.  "I know you want me, Bones,"
Jim's voice came low and breathy, the voice he would use on varous female
ambassadors whose favor he wanted  to curry.  Leonard didn't care.  Whatever
favor Jim wanted, he would gladly give, if only in exchange for this moment
...

"I want you, too, Bones.  I want to suck you ... I want to make you come in
my mouth.  So I can taste it."  Jim was close enough to touch now; he struck
out and cleared away the protecting towel.  He appraised, smiling, pleased.
"So, you're ready for me.  I always knew."  Then Jim knelt below Leonard's
throne of pillows and pulled down his shorts and ate him.

Leonard's mind was in a whirl, on overload; he remembered calling Jim's name
before he loosed himself into his captain's eager, sucking mouth; he
remembered the lassitude that swamped him as Jim fetched a blanket from the
corner and wrapped it around them both, holding him with arms and legs as he
drifted away.

... Oblivion ... subspace radio, malfunction ... oblivion.  Subspace radio,
have to fix it, need to get a message ... oblivion.  Then, vividly:  He was
on the USS Johnson.  They'd hit a gravitic mine, many casualties.  He was
the only person alive in Communications; he was a medic, had been treating
an injured officer.  The second blast had come -- probably from their own
torpedo bay.  The subspace  radio was damaged.  He had to fix it, to send a
distress call to Starfleet.  Trying to remember his engineering classes from
sophomore year at the academy, he rigged up some wiring to a hypercircuit.
There was a bizarre vibration throughout his whole body -- not really a
vibration, just like being pulled in a thousand directions at once, and not
any direction that he was capable of sensing.  Yes, now he remembered, that
was the subspace circuit.  He had hit it.  Just needed to hook up to the
emergency power coupling and then he could send his message.  And in all the
destruction, he found himself becoming aroused when the subspace
interference engulfed him.  Ignore it, Len; just hook up the circuit, send
your call.  Is this the interface?  If he hit the wrong contact, he might
short out the radio altogether, and that would be it.  He felt paralyzed
with fear.  His heart raced; he couldn't breathe.

It's a dream, Len.  You're sleeping.  He relaxed, started breathing, floated
out of the ship and into his soft nest of pillows and blanket.  He woke to
bright moonlight.  Something was wrong.

Jim wasn't there.

For a moment he wondered whether he had dreamed Jim, too; but no, Jim had
been here.  Here, with him.  And then he had gone and fallen asleep.  Len,
you dang fool!  He was disappointed but soon forgave himself.  This place
wasn't coordinated with ship's time, after all.  There was a lot of "jet
lag" to overcome.  Of course he had fallen asleep in the hot afternoon sun,
sated.  His dream faded as he resolved to go and find Jim.

*

"Just around the cove, to your east," Jim had told him.  "If you need
anything."  No, he hadn't needed anything.  This strange planet had provided
for all his needs, until now.  So he needed something.  He needed Jim.  What
had this afternoon been all about?  Why had Jim left so soon?  Had he gone
back to be with Tonia?  No, Len, he wouldn't do that.  The females were all
just a means to an end  for Jim -- a treaty with one planet, some dilithium
from another.  Jim was handsome.  He *knew* he was handsome.  He held
himself apart, from everyone.  Except for me, today.  That was real.  That
had to be real.  I'm under his command anyway.  Anything he wants from me,
he could get.

Navigating was easy in the light of three small moons as he made his exit
from the tent.  Leonard was wearing only shorts, his bare feet warmed by the
sand.  But as he rounded the edge of the cove, the sand became cold
underfoot.  He peered ahead in the silver light and saw not palm trees but
conifers.  The ground became hard as he proceeded, unforgiving.  Needles
prickled his toes.  He began to shiver.  He could see his breath in the air,
see isolated pockets of frost on the ground.   Behind him and to his left,
waves crashed against jagged rocks, leaving a rime of ice behind them.  And
then, before him in a small clearing, he saw a quaint log cabin, dim orange
firelight flickering through its tiny windows.  What kind of planet was
this, anyway?

The cabin undoubtedly belonged to Jim, though.  He'd always liked cold
places -- the mountains, Alaska, the glaciers on Boglas III.  Said the snow
and ice calmed him in ways that nothing else could.  He'd often gone hiking
in the snow, farther than he should have; it had always worried Leonard,
though he'd never have admitted it.  Not beyond the bounds of a doctor's
concern for his patient, anyway.

Now things were different.  He could acknowledge what he had never revealed
to anyone, what he rarely even admitted to himself.  He had a hopeless love
for Jim.  Shivering with cold, and not thinking anything of it, he opened
Jim's door and barged in.

And immediately wished that he had not.

For there, before him on a primitive bunk, was Jim.  And also before him was
he himself.

The other he was kneeling beneath Jim, sucking him off.  And Jim was
moaning, "Leonard."  Not "Bones."

Thoughts raced through his head at warp speed.  He should leave, was the
prominent one.  The realization hit him all at once:  The Jim who had been
in his tent wasn't the real one, just as the mint julep and the magnolias --
and the windchime, and the breeze, were not real somehow.  They were all ...
*manufactured* in response to his own whims.  Something on this infernal
planet had read his mind, had made his every wish come true, no matter how
trivial.  No matter how vital.

Then another rushing thought:  This alternate Leonard is *Jim's* fantasy!
Jim wants me after all!

Or is he just plain horny and doesn't care who sucks him off?  I should
leave ...

The forgotten front door slammed, making any inner debate moot.

Jim opened his eyes, took in the scene.  "Bones?"

"I ... Jim."  He was rooted to the spot, and couldn't form a sentence if his
life had depended upon it.

The other McCoy vanished without so much as a transporter shimmer.

Jim's wet, leaking erection hung out in the chilly cabin air.  Jim looked
around, seemingly for something to cover himself with, but the gray woolen
blanket was tucked tightly around the mattress.  And he had nothing else
nearby.  "Bones ... "  Jim dipped his eyes to stare at the dirt floor.
"Leonard."

Wordlessly, Leonard knelt down and took Jim into his mouth.

It was a delight, Len thought, to watch Jim in ecstasy -- the way his mouth
formed  a tiny "o" at times, and at times went slack for lack of power to
control his face.  Why, he could almost get horny again just watching it.

Wait, he *was* getting horny again.  How could that be possible?  He lost
his rhythm and had to pull away from Jim, who groaned in frustration.

For some reason, his odd dream of the subspace radio flashed through his
mind once more.  "Jim ... I'm sorry.  Something's happening to me."  For
there was a strange vibration in the room; he could feel it throughout his
body -- as he remembered from the Johnson, but more intense.  And
originating from, of all places, his colon.

He looked up to study Jim, who only stared into the near distance, ignoring
him completely.  With a gutteral sound, Jim loosed himself into the cold
air.

Trying to ignore his own fast-growing arousal, Len hastened to the washroom
to find a towel for Jim.  Returning, he cleaned things up and then sat next
to Jim on the rough, woolen blanket.

"Jim?"

Jim blinked as if waking from a deep trance.  "This place ... reads our
minds, doesn't it, Len?"

Leonard could only nod as the vibration increased.

"I saw my old horse, Thunder.  I rode him.  I just thought they had a good
replica here ... thought maybe you'd mentioned something ... "

"Jim."  He caught Jim's eye, drew him away from his thoughts.  "You feel it,
now.  Don't you?"

Absently, Jim nodded.  "Yes."  He looked down, and Leonard followed his eye.
They were both hard.  Leonard paused to slip off his shorts.

All at once, the vibration, pulling, whatever it could be called, increased
to full intensity.  Both of them cried out and climaxed again.

This time, no one could be bothered to wipe anything up.

"Jim," Leonard panted, "Get on your hands and knees."

"I hardly think it's the time for that," Jim gasped.  "I just now ... "

"Just do it."

Jim obeyed, and around Jim's anus, McCoy saw a glowing force field.

The glowing force field from an anal dilator; or, as the enlisted men would
say, a butt plug.  And Len could feel that he was wearing one also.  He told
Jim.

"But how ... "

"The same way that everything else happens on this planet, Jim.  It reads
our minds, delivers the thing we want most, sometimes even before we know
ourselves that we want it."

"But, the ... the ... I can't describe it; it's like a vibration, yet ... "

"It's a Subspace butt plug, Jim.  I've had to remove a few from patients
after the force field guard, um, failed.  Should have realized earlier, but,
you know ... "

"I understand, Len.  It's a strange planet."

Suddenly Len's plug blasted to full subspace power again.  "Who wanted
that?"  he gasped, eyes wide.  "Was it me or you?"

"Sorry, Len; I'm afraid I wanted to ... see you.  Finish.  I was too busy
last time, and I ... "

"Yegads, Jim, squeeze it.  I'm gonna explode!"  Jim squeezed.  The sensation
declined to tolerable levels, but soon he was coming like a photon torpedo
anyway.

And so it went, through the night.  Any errant thought from one or the other
was bound to have one or both of them indisposed.  The mutual squeezing
seemed to help diminish the mind-warping subspace buttwonk, though.  And
luckily the ... whatever it was on the planet put a couple more logs on the
fire, and gave them a nice dinner to boot.  Although the dinner got
interrupted a few times.

Finally, as the orange glow of sunlight reached in to meet the dying embers
of the fire, they curled into each other's arms, under the woolen blanket,
and slept in undisturbed exhaustion.

*

Leonard materialized in the transporter room with Jim.  Spock and his
skeleton crew were back from their maintenance trip to Starbase 24.
Shoreleave was over for now, and Len couldn't help noticing how happy most
of his fellow crewmates looked.  Certainly they would return to this place
...

END

Challenge 81:  Sex with sex toys




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