Fic: Take A Deep Breath. And Another. Part Two, D/s, NC-17, McCoy/Chapel
Title: Take A Deep Breath. And Another One. Part Two.
Author:trek_bdsm
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: McCoy/Chapel
Warnings: Consensual bondage,consensual sexual domination and submission, spanking
Word count: 7348
Summary: McCoy asks her to go shopping, and he doesn't mean for clothes.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to their respective owners and copyright holders, clearly not to me. The characters may practice elements of BDSM that do not fall under the category of "safe sex". I assume you're not stupid, but in the spirit of a vague disclaimer being nobody's friend, I'll spell it out: I practice safe, sane and consensual BDSM in my real life; the characters in my fic may not. I do not condone unsafe sex in real life in any form, and any idiot that copies verbatim anything they read off the internet deserves the embarrassing trip to the hospital that will inevitably follow.
Golden rule, folks; if you're not sure about it, don't stick it up there.
Author's Note: Comes after One Small Step, Good Girl and Just What The Doctor Ordered.
There will be a follow-up to this, probably up within a week.
Their shopping plans soon slipped to the back of her mind. A week was a long time on board the Enterprise, and during those seven days they were attacked twice, performed three rescue missions and had to extricate the captain from an arranged marriage, which had been the cause of one of the attacks and two of the rescue missions.
They had been busy, to say the least.
Luckily the planet that had been determined as shore leave was also the closet planet that could offer the repair facilities that Scotty had demanded they needed immediately. The attacking ships had got some lucky shots in, and so shore leave was extended by three days for the entire crew. Everyone apart from Scotty, that is, who refused to leave while the repair teams were swarming over his baby.
On hearing the news of their extended leave, Christine managed to secure them accommodation on the planet’s surface, a quiet villa in secluded mountainous location. It came with its own transporter unit which was programmed to several locations all over the planet’s surface as well as the Federation space station they were docked at.
“It has its own swimming pool,” she told him as they walked along the gangways of the space station. “And real open fireplaces.”
“I still think that you should be saving your money,” he grumbled as he hefted their bags past groups of tourists staring at shop windows in the station. “This place must be costing a small fortune.”
“About as much as a private visit to one of the best speciality shops in the beta quadrant,” she said archly.
He rolled his eyes and said nothing until they were queuing at one of the station’s transporter banks.
“I’m being an ass,” he said suddenly.
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I love you anyway.”
“A fact that I am both astounded by and grateful for,” he said seriously.
She smiled and kissed him until their names were called and they beamed down to their villa.
The mountain views were beautiful, the villa was small but luxuriously appointed and it turned out that neither of them knew how to start a fire without using accelerants that had not been provided. They took a dip in the indoor pool instead, and made love in the water, something that neither had experienced before.
“You know, the Enterprise has a pool,” he remarked as they curled up together in the master bedroom.
“No way,” she said sleepily. “I’m not into exhibitionism. Too many cameras.”
Christine woke to breakfast in bed the next morning, served on what had to be the villa’s best china with a real flower in a small glass of water. She recognised it from the gardens outside, but she had no idea what it was. The soft orange petals had a rich, sensual smell that clung to her fingertips.
“The locals use the flowers as an ingredient in their massage oils,” McCoy said as he sat next to her and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “There’s a complimentary bottle of it in the bathroom.”
“We’ll have to try it later,” she said, around a mouthful of toast.
He looked at her intently, and she paused.
“Jelly on my chin?” she asked, puzzled. He smiled and shook his head.
“Would you be interested in trying something new today?” he asked slowly.
“That would depend on what you wanted to try,” she replied. “Does this have anything to do with our shopping trip?”
He reached out an arm and draped it over her shoulder, tugging her closer to him. With his other hand, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“Do you remember that night at the club?” he asked. “When I talked about how some people spent their lives acting out the roles that we play with?”
She nodded. “You said that it was a tempting way of life, but not one that you felt you could maintain. Plus, I’d want to kill you.”
He laughed. “I wondered if you’d like to experiment with that a little, while we were here on the planet.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. While they both very much enjoyed the games they played, they both knew that they were just games. He had never tried to use his power over her as her superior officer or his physical advantage over her in any way other than in the carefully planned and negotiated scenes.
“What are you suggesting?” she said finally. “Because I have some limits.”
He nodded. “One day only, that can be terminated at any time by either of us if we’re feeling unhappy.”
“Agreed,” she said immediately.
“Safe words still apply,” he went on. She nodded her agreement. “Otherwise, I control the day. I pick out your clothes, decide on when and what you eat, tell when you can speak and when you must remain silent.”
She pursed her lips and thought. None of this was new, exactly, but they had never played for longer than an hour or two.
“I’d decide on our activities for the day, and if and when you’ll take part in them,” he went on. “And of course, I make the decisions about any sex that we may or may not have.”
“What if we meet anyone from the ship?” she said thoughtfully.
“You won’t look out of the ordinary, and you won’t be made to behave in a way that would make anyone suspicious or concerned,” he promised. “Just say the word, and we stop immediately.”
“You won’t make me eat anything disgusting?” she said suspiciously.
He laughed, and promised faithfully that he wouldn’t.
“Yes, then,” she agreed. “Do with me what you will.”
She waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner and he burst out laughing again, before sending the breakfast tray crashing off the bed as he rolled on to her and started to suck at her nipples. That was a move that was guaranteed to get Christine’s juices flowing and she writhed under him as he pinned her hands above her head as he feasted on her breasts. She began to pant and moan, raising her hips from the bed to find friction against him. He allowed it for a few minutes, but then released the nipple he had been grazing with teeth with an audible pop and sat up, letting go of her arms.
“Go into the bathroom and get the shower started,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You can get in, but don’t touch yourself.”
Christine moaned in frustration, the tingles low in her belly that usually signalled the beginnings of an orgasm fading away. Swiftly McCoy leant over and grabbed her by the throat, causing her head to arch back against the bed and her hips to snap up into the empty air.
“When you are given an order, it’s in your best interests to follow it immediately,” he said menacingly, squeezing her throat slightly. She nodded and averted her eyes from his fierce glare, and after a few seconds he relaxed his grip.
“Go,” he told her, and she scrambled out of bed and into the master bathroom. The shower cubicle was large and well appointed, with multiple jets of water emerging from all directions as well as from directly over head. She set it to a pleasing warmth and stepped inside, being careful not to brush against her arms against her throbbing nipples.
He joined her after a few minutes, and spent a considerable amount of time making sure that every part of her body was clean, from the spaces between her toes to the skin on the underside of her breasts. Christine relaxed into his soothing attention, and obediently bent her body as he directed so he could have access everywhere.
When he had finished cleaning her and washing her hair, he directed her to bend from the waist and place her hands flat against the wall. This startled her, because it placed a jet of water directly in her face, but she did as she was told. She was so busy trying to cope with a face full of water that she didn’t notice him redirecting another jet so that it hit her directly at her core. She opened her mouth to gasp in surprise and was rewarded with a mouthful of water that made her cough and splutter. She heard him laugh, but was too concerned with her current predicament to pay him much attention.
That was a mistake, because he immediately started to spank her upturned ass. As soon as he began Christine knew that this wasn’t going to be one of those ‘good girl’ spankings that were designed to heighten her endorphin production. This was a ‘bad girl’ spanking, designed to please him. The blows were hard, and came thick and fast. The noise of skin hitting skin reverberated off the tiled walls of the bathroom, making each slap of her wet skin so much louder. Whenever she tried to let out a scream of protest, she ended up choking on the water aimed at her mouth, while her pussy was pounded by the strong jet of water aimed there.
Her tears fell unnoticed down her wet face, as did the trickles of traitorous pleasure she felt escape her center and leak down her leg. He kept his rhythm regular and even as he worked her pale skin up to a bright shade of pink and then cherry red.
Eventually the blows stopped, and she was jerked upwards into his embrace where she clung to him, unable to support herself for a few seconds. She felt his hardness poke into her thigh, and tentatively reached out a hand to stroke along its length. He allowed her to stroke him using his preferred technique until his breath started to come in heavy pants, then he clapped a large hand to her shoulder and pushed her to her knees. He guided his thick length to her waiting mouth, but didn’t give her time to do anything but accept it before he started to thrust into her throat. He didn’t choke her with his length like he sometimes did, but guided her head back and forth firmly up and down his shaft.
Her hands were unbound, so she used every trick in her book to aid him climax. She rolled his balls carefully in her hands, and cupped his muscular buttocks, squeezing as he pumped rhythmically into her mouth. He widened his stance a little and she took the opportunity to trace one slick finger along the crack of his backside. As soon as she started to toy with his tightly puckered opening he grunted loudly and came down her throat. He withdrew, leaving her kneeling on the floor of the shower enclosure, face pointing down submissively, panting for breath and feeling so content she could barely move.
“Very good,” he said softly, sliding a hand over her wet hair. “You’re such a good girl, Christine.”
She sighed, loving those words with an intensity that still surprised her.
“You’re going to get up now,” he told her, “take towels from the rack and go into the bedroom. Dry yourself and style your hair. Kneel in the middle of the room when you’ve finished. Don’t get dressed.”
She nodded her understanding and stood awkwardly, her knees protesting after spending time on the floor. She left the enclosure and did as he instructed, wincing as she rubbed the towels over her reddened backside. A quick peek in the mirror showed it to be very red indeed, and it felt hot to touch even in the chill of the bedroom. He hadn’t given her any instructions about how he wanted her to style her hair, so she opted against one of the elaborate styles that she usually created and chose a simple twist. It pulled her hair off her neck and kept it out of the way, but it was easy to disassemble if he required it down.
She knelt in the middle of the room, her face turned towards the floor. So far, nothing that they had done had been outside of their usual range of activities. Although the stinging in her ass couldn’t be called comfortable, she wasn’t uncomfortable either. She’d had no reason to safeword, and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to. Given the nature of their lives, they didn’t get much chance to play like this for an extended period of time. This unexpected leave was a real bonus.
He came into the room ten minutes later, smelling of his mint shower soap and her shampoo. He had towelled off, but his hair was still wet. There was something about the sight of him with wet hair that sent her pulse racing, and she had been known to make them both late in the mornings because she couldn’t keep her hands off him after he had showered.
He ignored her and her lascivious stare, and instead went over to the closet and started to flick through the clothes she had brought with her. He settled on a long, gauzy skirt and a button-through camisole top, both suitable for the summer heat of the planet.
“Put these on,” he said. “No underwear, so make sure that those buttons stay done up.”
She knew, immediately, that at some point in the day those buttons were going to come undone. She hesitated over accepting the clothes, but swallowed her nervousness. He had promised that she wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of her shipmates, and she trusted him. As she took the clothes from him with hands that shook a little, he made her repeat her safewords.
“Green,” she said heavily. “green, green, green. And red, and yellow. But right now, green.”
She got another smack on the backside and look of amused exasperation, then he pulled on his clothes, lightweight pants and a short sleeved shirt that pulled tightly across his broad back and shoulders and displayed his shapely forearms. She dressed too, amazed at how naked she felt, despite the fact that between the camisole and the long skirt, she was wearing far more material than in her daily uniforms. He pulled her close for some hot, sweet kisses and then they were gone, transported directly into the centre of the planet’s major city.
It was a beautiful city, but Christine was so focused on the sensations on her body that she paid very little attention to the scenery around her. She felt every gust of wind that tickled up her skirt, and her nipples peaked and hardened as they rubbed against the silky material of her camisole top. Her breasts, usually enclosed in a well-fitting bra, jostled together as she walked, pulling at the buttons of her top and threatening to spill over the lacy edge. He had a tight grip on her wrist, and she clung close as he navigated them through crowded streets.
After a ten minute walk, he stopped outside what looked like an affluent person’s home. Despite it being in a row of shops, there was no large window displaying its wares. Instead there was a large wooden door with a discreet metal plaque in both the native and Federation Standard scripts, and a buzzer.
“Once we get in there, you’re only to talk to me, do you understand?” he held her by the chin, staring directly into his eyes. “But you’re only to talk unless spoken to, or you want to safeword. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, and he dropped her chin. He pressed the buzzer and the door was opened immediately by a tall, gray-skinned man dressed in the long formal robes that all the male members of the native population wore.
“Mr McCoy? A pleasure to meet you. I am Chaud. Welcome to my establishment. This way, please. How am I to address your companion?”
“This is Miss Chapel,” McCoy replied as they entered. “But any questions you have for her can be addressed to me.”
“I understand,” Chaud replied.
Christine started a little at that, but the pressure on her wrist increased slightly and she relaxed. This was just all part of the game, and Chaud did not seem perturbed by the idea that she did not speak for herself.
Chaud led them down a narrow passage and through another set of doors into a cavernous space that Christine did not expect from the size of the house in the street. Along the right hand side of the rectangular room were small booths with glass doors. They were dark and empty, and looked for all the world like shower cubicles. On the left of the room was a long wooden counter that held scanning equipment very similar to the tricorders she used on board ship. The rest of the room was divided by long lines of display cases into aisles. She could not see past the first one.
“To start, Mr McCoy, it is necessary to take the measurements of your companion. All of our items will be adjusted to her specific size and weight. Tell me, do you anticipate any fluctuations in her body mass?”
Christine stiffened and McCoy kept an admirably straight face as he replied in the negative.
“You will permit me to scan your companion?” Chaud enquired as he picked up one of the machines. “I can assure you it is a completely non-invasive procedure.”
McCoy nodded his acquiescence and Chaud began, using all of the equipment on the counter-top. McCoy watched intently, asking myriad questions about the devices and their functions. Christine felt the slightest tinge of annoyance - now was not the time for him to be thinking about adding new tech to their sickbay! He caught the look on her face and winked at her before schooling his face into something much more suitable for the occasion.
The final machine blinked and beeped, and Chaud looked pleased.
“I now have a full set of measurements, both internal and external. We can now proceed with your inspection of my stock. Did you have anything in particular in mind, Mr McCoy?”
“Let’s start with restraints,” McCoy said with an evil grin on his face. Chaud nodded, and walked towards the middle of the room, the two humans trailing behind him.
“Here we have a selection of arm and wrist restraints,” Chaud began, waving his arm towards a glass-fronted cabinet. “What did you have in mind?”
It turned out that McCoy had some very specific things in mind. Chaud paused before touching Christine, waiting for permission from McCoy who waved irritably, his attention on the two gold-colored metal bands Chaid had selected from the display. Christine stood silently as two lightweight cuffs were clipped around her wrists.
“They fasten automatically, and cannot be undone by the wearer. The lock is controlled remotely by this handset, which also controls the magnetic aspect of the cuffs.”
Chaud pressed a button, and the cuffs locked shut. He pressed another, and Christine’s wrists flew together. She tried to pull them apart, but they wouldn’t budge. Chaud passed the control key to McCoy, who examined the process for himself.
“What is the emergency cut-off procedure?” McCoy asked as he released the magnetic hold and reapplied it, watching Christine’s wrists fall away and back to each other as he kept pressing the button.
Chaud demonstrated the override switch. Christine wouldn’t be able to reach it, but McCoy could.
“There is a matching set of ankle restraints,” Chaud said, and brought them out of the cabinet. McCoy nodded permission, and Chaud fastened them around her ankles. She wobbled as McCoy operated their magnetic aspect, and he stepped in to steady her.
“You comfortable?” he asked. “Do they pinch?”
“No,” she replied honestly. “They’re lined with something soft. They’re tight, but they don’t hurt.”
“They’ve been calibrated to restrict movement but not circulation,” Chaud offered. “They will not harm your companion.”
“Could they have some kind of clip attached?” McCoy asked. “I’ll want to tie something to them.”
Chaud made a notation on his PADD.
“Of course, Mr McCoy. The clip will fold out of the cuff, for when you need it.”
“Excellent,” McCoy said. “I’ll take a set in gold for wrists and ankles, and a set in blue.”
Chaud make another notation. “Do you wish to examine suspension restraints?” he asked pleasantly.
“I’m afraid that there is no provision for suspension in our current location,” McCoy said wistfully.
Chaud nodded. “Do you wish to release Miss Chapel from her restraints, or would you like her to wear them as you browse?”
McCoy’s eyes gleamed. “She’ll wear them,” he said, but he did de-magnetise the ankle cuffs so she could walk. He repositioned her arms so that her wrists were fastened behind her back, and re-magnetised the wrist cuffs. This position caused her breasts to be pushed forwards, and he ran his hands over them before stepping away from her. Christine blushed, embarrassed at this public display, but Chaud seemed entirely uninterested in them and was busy punching details into his PADD.
“May I show you our selection of hobbles?” Chaud said, walking to another display case. “They will allow your companion to have a limited mobility.”
McCoy watched as Chaud demonstrated the hobble on her, and she shuffled backwards and forwards awkwardly in front of them. After determining how the hobble chain could be attached to the ankle cuffs she wore, McCoy ordered three different lengths in both blue and gold. As before, Chaud asked if he wanted the hobbles left on and McCoy agreed.
“What can I show you now?” Chaud offered.
“Collars,” McCoy said firmly. “And leashes.”
Christine felt her blush rise. He had wormed out of her one day that she had once fantasised about being leashed, but he hadn’t brought the subject up again. She had almost forgotten that she had told him. The two men strode off down another aisle and she stumbled after them, walking carefully as not to upset her precarious balance.
McCoy looked back over his shoulder to check on her, and grinned evilly when he saw he shuffle behind him. She grinned back, and then returned to a more appropriate demeanour.
By the time she reached the two men, Chaud had pulled out a rack of collars that would fit her slender neck. Some were ugly things, large and dark and filled with metal studs and buckles. Some were very thin and fine, more like necklets than collars. They were beautiful, but not what she had imagined. McCoy’s hand drifted over the collection before selecting one that was mid-way between the two extremes in size.
“A good choice, sir. This comes in a range of colors, and can be inscribed. It has a clip here, for attaching a leash, or you could use a shorter length of restraint chain or rope to fasten Miss Chapel to an item of furniture.”
“Put it on her,” McCoy said thoughtfully.
Chaud did, and his measurements must have been precise down to the last micrometer, because it fit perfectly. Christine could feel the pull of the metal around her neck, its weight solid and constant, but she could breathe quite easily.
McCoy walked in a circle around her, examining the collar from all sides before coming to a halt behind her. He slipped his finger underneath the collar, tugging it tight against her throat. Christine gasped.
“How does it feel?” he said innocently.
“Tight,” she gasped, and he let go of it. “Better now,” she said pointedly. “There’s no chafing.”
“You can breathe? Swallow?” he asked.
She nodded her head.
“Show me how the leash connects,” he said as he turned back to Chaud. The tall gray man fit the leash into the clip beneath Christine’s chin, and demonstrated how easily it could attach and detach.
“There are varying length of leash, and varying styles and materials,” Chaud informed McCoy. “The most popular is a composite material that had the flexibility of rope but the tensile strength of steel. A new technology from the Cardassian homeworld.”
He gave the end of the leash to McCoy who examined it closely.
“This will fit to the restraints I’ve already selected?” he asked, tugging on it firmly, giving Christine no choice but to stumble awkwardly towards him.
“Yes, the clip is a standard fit for my products,” Chaud said proudly.
“I’ll take the collar she’s wearing in a gold that matches the cuffs, and a one in a blue to match the other set. Three leashes, in both colors. Short, medium and long lengths, long enough to tether her to a spot but allow limited movement.”
Chaud updated his PADD again. “Of course, Mr McCoy, that will not be a problem. What else did you require today?”
“Nipple clamps,” McCoy said firmly. “I’ve heard you do a good vibrating range.”
“The very best in the beta quadrant,” Chaid said simply. “Please follow me.”
He drifted off elegantly down the aisle. McCoy slipped the looped end of the leash over his wrist and tugged on it a little.
“Give me a color,” he said, looking deep into her brown eyes.
“Green,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“How green?” he asked suspiciously.
“Green enough,” she said with a nervous smile.
He looked at her for a long moment before kissing her fiercely.
“Alright then,” he said, and he walked away slowly, leaving her to shuffle behind him. With every step she could feel the juncture of her thighs get wetter and wetter and her nipples had been standing proudly through the silk of her camisole ever since the cuffs had been slipped onto her wrists. She bit her lip and revelled in the emotions she was feeling. Excitement, definitely, but with a hint of fear. She knew that McCoy would not harm her, but she did not know what he had planned. That lack of knowledge and control was terrifying but exhilarating.
Definitely green, she concluded.
She rounded the last corner and her eyes widened. Chaud had laid out a dazzling array of clamps, and she could tell what was going to happen next by the look on McCoy‘s face. Sure enough, he tugged her to a halt and hung the leash over a convenient hook on the display wall, which she realised with a blush had been put there just for this purpose.
“Your clamps are padded?” McCoy asked over his shoulder as he started to flick open the buttons of her camisole.
“Not all of them,” Chaud replied, “but they can be adjusted to fit padding if you require it.”
Christine let out a tiny gasp as he finished undoing her last button, and he peeled back the flimsy material to expose her breasts to the cool air. McCoy turned away from her to peruse the collection, and then spent the next ten minutes trialling different designs. She gasped and moaned her way through his experimentation, forgetting that Chaud was waiting impassively for McCoy to make up his mind in her haze of pain and pleasure. He selected five styles of clamp, two that vibrated in a way that she found very pleasurable and three that pinched in a way that she did not. One set, ordered in both colors, came with a chain that hooked onto her collar.
McCoy mercifully decided that she didn’t have to wear the clamps for the rest of their shopping expedition, and Chaud quickly tidied his inventory away.
“Paddles,” McCoy informed him before the tall man could ask. “Also floggers and canes.”
“This way,” Chaud said, and glided off in front of them. McCoy unhooked the leash and followed after him, tugging Christine along. The front of her camisole flapped and her breasts jiggled as she stumbled after him, her abused nipples hot and sore in the cool air of the store. Surely this was going to be the limits of her exposure, she thought as they rounded another corner. It wasn’t as if he was going to paddle her here in front of the impassive owner of the store.
Her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw the tall man waiting with an unlocked cabinet of paddles and what looked suspiciously like a whipping bench positioned in the middle of the aisle.
“Would you care to test out the paddles on Miss Chapel, sir?” Chaud asked politely.
McCoy frowned. “I’m not comfortable using items that others have used,” he said as politely as he could. Christine let out a tiny sigh of relief, only to have her hopes dashed.
“We sanitise every item after each inspection, sir, “ Chaud replied, picking up a hand-held sonic sanitizer just like they used in sickbay. “You are welcome to sanitise any item you wish to trial yourself, of course.”
McCoy brightened as he took the sanitising unit and inspected it. He unlocked the magnetic function on Christine’s cuffs and unhooked the hobble chain. He kept a firm grip on the leash as he walked her over to the bench and bent her over it, magnetising the cuffs again so they stuck to the metal legs of the bench. She had no view except that of the scrupulously clean floor, and no matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t move. Panic fought with excitement, and lost, barely.
Then McCoy hitched up her skirt and tucked it into her waistband, displaying her still-reddened ass.
“I’d like to try that one first,” she heard him say, and she heard the hiss of the sonic sanitizer as he ran it over whatever he was holding. A paddle, she discovered, as she took three fairly gentle slaps at her raised backside. She let out a hiss of pain and surprise, and got another three, heavier, slaps.
“Hmm,” she heard McCoy say as the sanitizer hissed again. “Good, but not really making the impression I’m looking for. Let me try the one at the back.”
A hiss then three gentle taps again, only this time the pain was a stinging one. The next three really hurt and she let out a real cry of pain.
“Better,” McCoy said with satisfaction. “This one, and the matching one, the bigger one.”
She could hear the sound of Chaud’s fingers over the PADD, and the hiss of the sanitizer.
Next came a flogger, lengths of what felt like soft leather. He danced it over her backside and thighs and it actually felt quite pleasant. She hummed in appreciation, until he started to flick it just that bit harder, when it made her wriggle and gasp.
“Perfect,” McCoy said happily. “And I’ll take the shorter one also.”
It took him three tries with the selection of canes before he was able to select once that felt right in his grip. Christine was crying by the time he finished, having taken nine strokes, and he spent ten minutes sitting by her and stroking her face, kissing her as he calmed her down. She refused to safeword at his offer; despite the pain she was incredibly aroused by their whole experience that morning and she was desperate to continue.
He tried out several more crops and slappers, before trialling an evil device that Christine took an immediate dislike to. It delivered a sharp painful shock to a very tiny area of skin, and she screamed each time he used it. Of course, he bought it as soon as he registered her hatred of it.
She was crying again by the end of it, mainly due to the frustration of being unable to move. The cuffs held her firmly in place, and all she could do was try to wriggle out of the way of whatever he chose to do with her. She didn’t register the cuffs unlocking until she felt McCoy’s gentle hands on her shoulders. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, one strong arm wrapped firmly around her waist.
“Yellow,” she whispered into his chest.
He smoothed her hair, and stroked her back.
“We need a minute, Chaud,” he informed the proprietor. The tall man melted away respectfully into the aisles.
She sniffed against his chest, and they stood in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m ok,” she said eventually, leaning back to look him in the face.
“Say the word and this ends now,” he said sincerely.
“No,” she replied quickly. “No, I like this, I do. That was just...intense. I’m good now. We can keep going.”
She looked at him earnestly, and he used his thumbs to wipe away the tracks of her tears.
“Alright,” he said eventually. “But we’re going to take the pace down a little. How do you feel about some quiet time?”
Christine nodded gratefully, and McCoy had her back in her shackles and hobble very quickly. He called for Chaud, and by the time the man rematerialised from around a corner Christine was ready to continue.
“Chaud, Miss Chapel is going to retire to one of your waiting areas while we conclude our business,” McCoy informed him. Chaud nodded and led the way back to one of the shower cubicles that Christine had noticed earlier. This was no comfortable waiting area, however. There were no chairs or benches. Not that I’d be able to sit down right now, Christine thought.
Instead, a pair of suspension cuffs dangled from a hook set in the ceiling. It was a matter of seconds to have her out of her gold cuffs and into the specially designed suspension ones, and Chaud used the measurements he had taken earlier to determine the optimum height for the chain attaching the cuffs to the ceiling hook. She was raised onto her tiptoes, and she immediately felt the stretch along her back and shoulders. McCoy stepped into the booth to kiss her, and run his hands over her sore, abused backside and still-tender breasts, both still exposed to the air.
“I’m not going to gag you,” he said quietly. “I should be gone no longer than fifteen minutes.”
He looked deep into her eyes, and she read a tender concern there. She nodded, and he smiled before pinching both nipples very quickly. She screamed in outrage and his grin became evil, then he stepped back and activated the force-field that would keep her restrained even if she somehow worked her way out of the cuffs.
“Gags, I think Chaud,” she heard him say as the men walked away. “Miss Chapel can be quite loud when she wants to be.”
She had no idea how long he was actually gone, but it must have been about the fifteen minutes he said he would take. She was concentrating hard on keeping her footing, as the slightest slip made her swing back and forth. She didn’t want to slip into the force field, because she had the distinct impression that would hurt far more than the caning had.
Eventually McCoy returned, looking very pleased with himself. Chaud released her from the cuffs and the hobble and thanked them both courteously for their patronage before disappearing off into the aisles again.
McCoy buttoned her camisole up and untucked her skirt, making her look presentable again.
“There,” he said. “Now you look decent. Time for lunch, I think.”
He took her by the wrist, and led her back to the door they had entered by. Christine looked confused and was about to ask a question, but remembered to hold her tongue just in time.
McCoy nodded approvingly at her as they exited the store and headed back out into the bright sunshine.
“The toys will be sent directly to the villa,” he said as they walked slowly down the street, Christine getting used to walking without the hobble. “You can speak freely now it’s just us.”
They continued their slow walk, Christine leaning on him more and more.
“Are you alright?” he asked as they rounded a corner into what appeared to be the main square.
“I’m hungry,” she said as they passed a restaurant. He laughed and shook his head.
“I was referring to your ass,” he said fondly. “But if you’re picking your stomach over your ass, you must be hungry. We’ll stop for lunch. I won’t make you eat anything disgusting, but I’ll be picking your meal.”
She nodded warily, and they headed into a busy looking restaurant. She winced as her ass made contact with the solid wooden chair, and he smirked at her. He ordered her a platter of spicy fried foods that smelt absolutely heavenly, food that she usually ignored in favour of lower-fat, healthier options aboard ship.
“Don’t make a face,” he warned. “Or I’ll make you eat dessert too.”
“Oh no,” she intoned in a monotone, “not dessert! Who will save me from this evil man?”
“Keep joking honey, but you didn’t see what I picked up after you took your time-out,” he said wickedly. “You may not want to upset me when you see what I bought.”
She shut up abruptly, and he laughed again. The food arrived then, and Christine attacked it with gusto, her stomach clearly more important than her ass. He did order her a dessert, and she did finish it all, but it was clearly not the great punishment they both pretended it was.
“Happy?” he asked her after the servers had cleared away their meal and processed their payment.
“Sore,” she said with a grumble. “But very happy.”
“We’re going for a bit of sight-seeing,” he informed her. “It’s a pity I couldn’t get Chaud to let me have the collar and leash straight away, I’d love to show you off, but the inscription will take time to engrave.”
She caught her breath. She knew that he wouldn’t make her wear it in public, but the very thought of being paraded around in public by him was a very enticing one. He must be a mind-reader, because he grinned wickedly at her.
“Never mind though,” he said as he helped her up out of her chair and gripped her tightly by the wrist. “There are bound to be some secluded areas here. Maybe I’ll take the opportunity to check on your bruises before we head back to the villa.”
She stomached tumbled helplessly as they made their way back into the bright sunshine and he lead them towards an ancient-looking building that had people trickling in and out of its doors. It had the grandeur of a cathedral in the shape of a castle, and within minutes of entering and taking one of the tourist maps, McCoy had steered them towards the deserted end.
“No shiny artefacts down here,” he murmured into her ear. “No displays or information boards. Very sparse. Very boring.”
He was right. They met a few bored looking tourists coming from the direction they were headed, but otherwise the warren of rooms was deserted. McCoy picked the room furthest from the main corridor, and shut and barred the door behind him.
“Strip,” he ordered, and she looked about nervously before her fingers started to slip the buttons through the holes in her camisole. She couldn’t see any cameras. In fact, the room was totally devoid of all furniture except a large wooden table, clearly centuries old and scarred beyond public display.
She let the camisole fall from her shoulders, and taking a deep breath, she pulled her skirt down over her hips. She kicked off her shoes and stood in front of him, completely naked.
“Take down your hair,” he said after a moment, and with trembling fingers, she obeyed.
“Hands behind your head,” he said as he circled her, and she obeyed with a slight hitch in her breath.
He stopped behind her, and she felt his cool hands on her heated ass. He pressed against the marks left by the canes and she couldn’t help but cry out.
“Does this hurt?” he asked innocently, and she gasped as she answered.
He kept his hands pressed there for what seemed like an age, rubbing and pulling at her skin.
Tears formed in her eyes and she could feel them threatening to spill out.
“How about this?” he said, shifting his hands forward and up to clutch at her breasts. His clever fingers found her nipples immediately and began to roll and tug.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, the tears coming down her face freely now.
“Yet you’re very wet,” he said thoughtfully as one of his hands descended to her pussy, which by now was leaking as much as her face was. He pushed a thick finger inside her and she moaned uncontrollably, letting out a small scream when he thrust another inside her.
“Slut,” he said affectionately, and planted a row of kisses down the side of her neck.
Between the insistent thrusting of his fingers, the plucking of her nipple and the gentleness of the kisses, Christine felt the stirrings of an almighty orgasm start to build. She writhed in his arms, and he chuckled.
“Ah ah, you know the rules,” he chided, withdrawing his fingers and using his free hand to take a handful of her hair. “Not without my permission.”
“Please,” she begged, her knees sagging with the effort of keeping herself upright. “Please, I’ve got to come. Let me come.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered directly into her ear. She gasped in relief as he led her by the hair to the table and bent her over it. He placed one hand on the back of her neck, and she heard him unzipping his pants with the other.
He groaned as his cock pushed into her tight channel, and she whimpered as he began to thrust powerfully into her. Her reddened ass was bearing the brunt of the weight of his body, and her naked breasts were being squashed into the table-top. She felt her orgasm build and build and she sobbed in frustration.
“Please!” she begged. “Please!”
He relented, loosened his grip on her neck and pushed one of his hands under her hips. Within a few seconds he had found her clit and worked at it furiously.
“You’ve got...thirty seconds...” he panted, but she didn’t need ten. Between the delicious ache in her breasts, the steady pounding of his cock and the friction on her clit she came loudly and explosively. He followed very soon afterwards, grunting her name as he emptied himself inside her.
She sighed happily as he withdrew and zipped himself up and gathered up her clothes. He threw them to her and gave her a spank on the ass which caused her to hiss.
“Get dressed,” he said.
She turned her face towards him, puzzled. “I can feel it trickling down my leg,” she said, a faint flush on her cheeks. “You usually...”
“Not today,” he said, bending to kiss her on the lips. “Today I want you to walk through the town dripping.” He spanked her ass again.
“Get a move on. I have plans.”
She pulled herself up onto shaky feet and grimaced as she pulled on her skirt and camisole. She felt that everyone would know exactly what they had been doing, that they would be able to see through the gauzy material of her skirt and trace the path of his semen as it made its path down her leg.
She felt a rumble of desire low in her belly again and resisted the urge to laugh. God, what this man did to her. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, then take that and give her even more. Acting completely on impulse, she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Thank you,” he said, smoothing her hair with his hand. The look of love in his eyes was so pure and heartfelt that she thought she may well cry at the sight of it. “Now, let’s go. I think we’ve given Chaud enough time to get the delivery organised. I’m in the mood to play some more.”
She smiled, and offered him her wrist.
php programmers
Author:trek_bdsm
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: McCoy/Chapel
Warnings: Consensual bondage,consensual sexual domination and submission, spanking
Word count: 7348
Summary: McCoy asks her to go shopping, and he doesn't mean for clothes.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to their respective owners and copyright holders, clearly not to me. The characters may practice elements of BDSM that do not fall under the category of "safe sex". I assume you're not stupid, but in the spirit of a vague disclaimer being nobody's friend, I'll spell it out: I practice safe, sane and consensual BDSM in my real life; the characters in my fic may not. I do not condone unsafe sex in real life in any form, and any idiot that copies verbatim anything they read off the internet deserves the embarrassing trip to the hospital that will inevitably follow.
Golden rule, folks; if you're not sure about it, don't stick it up there.
Author's Note: Comes after One Small Step, Good Girl and Just What The Doctor Ordered.
There will be a follow-up to this, probably up within a week.
Their shopping plans soon slipped to the back of her mind. A week was a long time on board the Enterprise, and during those seven days they were attacked twice, performed three rescue missions and had to extricate the captain from an arranged marriage, which had been the cause of one of the attacks and two of the rescue missions.
They had been busy, to say the least.
Luckily the planet that had been determined as shore leave was also the closet planet that could offer the repair facilities that Scotty had demanded they needed immediately. The attacking ships had got some lucky shots in, and so shore leave was extended by three days for the entire crew. Everyone apart from Scotty, that is, who refused to leave while the repair teams were swarming over his baby.
On hearing the news of their extended leave, Christine managed to secure them accommodation on the planet’s surface, a quiet villa in secluded mountainous location. It came with its own transporter unit which was programmed to several locations all over the planet’s surface as well as the Federation space station they were docked at.
“It has its own swimming pool,” she told him as they walked along the gangways of the space station. “And real open fireplaces.”
“I still think that you should be saving your money,” he grumbled as he hefted their bags past groups of tourists staring at shop windows in the station. “This place must be costing a small fortune.”
“About as much as a private visit to one of the best speciality shops in the beta quadrant,” she said archly.
He rolled his eyes and said nothing until they were queuing at one of the station’s transporter banks.
“I’m being an ass,” he said suddenly.
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I love you anyway.”
“A fact that I am both astounded by and grateful for,” he said seriously.
She smiled and kissed him until their names were called and they beamed down to their villa.
The mountain views were beautiful, the villa was small but luxuriously appointed and it turned out that neither of them knew how to start a fire without using accelerants that had not been provided. They took a dip in the indoor pool instead, and made love in the water, something that neither had experienced before.
“You know, the Enterprise has a pool,” he remarked as they curled up together in the master bedroom.
“No way,” she said sleepily. “I’m not into exhibitionism. Too many cameras.”
Christine woke to breakfast in bed the next morning, served on what had to be the villa’s best china with a real flower in a small glass of water. She recognised it from the gardens outside, but she had no idea what it was. The soft orange petals had a rich, sensual smell that clung to her fingertips.
“The locals use the flowers as an ingredient in their massage oils,” McCoy said as he sat next to her and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “There’s a complimentary bottle of it in the bathroom.”
“We’ll have to try it later,” she said, around a mouthful of toast.
He looked at her intently, and she paused.
“Jelly on my chin?” she asked, puzzled. He smiled and shook his head.
“Would you be interested in trying something new today?” he asked slowly.
“That would depend on what you wanted to try,” she replied. “Does this have anything to do with our shopping trip?”
He reached out an arm and draped it over her shoulder, tugging her closer to him. With his other hand, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“Do you remember that night at the club?” he asked. “When I talked about how some people spent their lives acting out the roles that we play with?”
She nodded. “You said that it was a tempting way of life, but not one that you felt you could maintain. Plus, I’d want to kill you.”
He laughed. “I wondered if you’d like to experiment with that a little, while we were here on the planet.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. While they both very much enjoyed the games they played, they both knew that they were just games. He had never tried to use his power over her as her superior officer or his physical advantage over her in any way other than in the carefully planned and negotiated scenes.
“What are you suggesting?” she said finally. “Because I have some limits.”
He nodded. “One day only, that can be terminated at any time by either of us if we’re feeling unhappy.”
“Agreed,” she said immediately.
“Safe words still apply,” he went on. She nodded her agreement. “Otherwise, I control the day. I pick out your clothes, decide on when and what you eat, tell when you can speak and when you must remain silent.”
She pursed her lips and thought. None of this was new, exactly, but they had never played for longer than an hour or two.
“I’d decide on our activities for the day, and if and when you’ll take part in them,” he went on. “And of course, I make the decisions about any sex that we may or may not have.”
“What if we meet anyone from the ship?” she said thoughtfully.
“You won’t look out of the ordinary, and you won’t be made to behave in a way that would make anyone suspicious or concerned,” he promised. “Just say the word, and we stop immediately.”
“You won’t make me eat anything disgusting?” she said suspiciously.
He laughed, and promised faithfully that he wouldn’t.
“Yes, then,” she agreed. “Do with me what you will.”
She waggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner and he burst out laughing again, before sending the breakfast tray crashing off the bed as he rolled on to her and started to suck at her nipples. That was a move that was guaranteed to get Christine’s juices flowing and she writhed under him as he pinned her hands above her head as he feasted on her breasts. She began to pant and moan, raising her hips from the bed to find friction against him. He allowed it for a few minutes, but then released the nipple he had been grazing with teeth with an audible pop and sat up, letting go of her arms.
“Go into the bathroom and get the shower started,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You can get in, but don’t touch yourself.”
Christine moaned in frustration, the tingles low in her belly that usually signalled the beginnings of an orgasm fading away. Swiftly McCoy leant over and grabbed her by the throat, causing her head to arch back against the bed and her hips to snap up into the empty air.
“When you are given an order, it’s in your best interests to follow it immediately,” he said menacingly, squeezing her throat slightly. She nodded and averted her eyes from his fierce glare, and after a few seconds he relaxed his grip.
“Go,” he told her, and she scrambled out of bed and into the master bathroom. The shower cubicle was large and well appointed, with multiple jets of water emerging from all directions as well as from directly over head. She set it to a pleasing warmth and stepped inside, being careful not to brush against her arms against her throbbing nipples.
He joined her after a few minutes, and spent a considerable amount of time making sure that every part of her body was clean, from the spaces between her toes to the skin on the underside of her breasts. Christine relaxed into his soothing attention, and obediently bent her body as he directed so he could have access everywhere.
When he had finished cleaning her and washing her hair, he directed her to bend from the waist and place her hands flat against the wall. This startled her, because it placed a jet of water directly in her face, but she did as she was told. She was so busy trying to cope with a face full of water that she didn’t notice him redirecting another jet so that it hit her directly at her core. She opened her mouth to gasp in surprise and was rewarded with a mouthful of water that made her cough and splutter. She heard him laugh, but was too concerned with her current predicament to pay him much attention.
That was a mistake, because he immediately started to spank her upturned ass. As soon as he began Christine knew that this wasn’t going to be one of those ‘good girl’ spankings that were designed to heighten her endorphin production. This was a ‘bad girl’ spanking, designed to please him. The blows were hard, and came thick and fast. The noise of skin hitting skin reverberated off the tiled walls of the bathroom, making each slap of her wet skin so much louder. Whenever she tried to let out a scream of protest, she ended up choking on the water aimed at her mouth, while her pussy was pounded by the strong jet of water aimed there.
Her tears fell unnoticed down her wet face, as did the trickles of traitorous pleasure she felt escape her center and leak down her leg. He kept his rhythm regular and even as he worked her pale skin up to a bright shade of pink and then cherry red.
Eventually the blows stopped, and she was jerked upwards into his embrace where she clung to him, unable to support herself for a few seconds. She felt his hardness poke into her thigh, and tentatively reached out a hand to stroke along its length. He allowed her to stroke him using his preferred technique until his breath started to come in heavy pants, then he clapped a large hand to her shoulder and pushed her to her knees. He guided his thick length to her waiting mouth, but didn’t give her time to do anything but accept it before he started to thrust into her throat. He didn’t choke her with his length like he sometimes did, but guided her head back and forth firmly up and down his shaft.
Her hands were unbound, so she used every trick in her book to aid him climax. She rolled his balls carefully in her hands, and cupped his muscular buttocks, squeezing as he pumped rhythmically into her mouth. He widened his stance a little and she took the opportunity to trace one slick finger along the crack of his backside. As soon as she started to toy with his tightly puckered opening he grunted loudly and came down her throat. He withdrew, leaving her kneeling on the floor of the shower enclosure, face pointing down submissively, panting for breath and feeling so content she could barely move.
“Very good,” he said softly, sliding a hand over her wet hair. “You’re such a good girl, Christine.”
She sighed, loving those words with an intensity that still surprised her.
“You’re going to get up now,” he told her, “take towels from the rack and go into the bedroom. Dry yourself and style your hair. Kneel in the middle of the room when you’ve finished. Don’t get dressed.”
She nodded her understanding and stood awkwardly, her knees protesting after spending time on the floor. She left the enclosure and did as he instructed, wincing as she rubbed the towels over her reddened backside. A quick peek in the mirror showed it to be very red indeed, and it felt hot to touch even in the chill of the bedroom. He hadn’t given her any instructions about how he wanted her to style her hair, so she opted against one of the elaborate styles that she usually created and chose a simple twist. It pulled her hair off her neck and kept it out of the way, but it was easy to disassemble if he required it down.
She knelt in the middle of the room, her face turned towards the floor. So far, nothing that they had done had been outside of their usual range of activities. Although the stinging in her ass couldn’t be called comfortable, she wasn’t uncomfortable either. She’d had no reason to safeword, and she hoped that she wouldn’t have to. Given the nature of their lives, they didn’t get much chance to play like this for an extended period of time. This unexpected leave was a real bonus.
He came into the room ten minutes later, smelling of his mint shower soap and her shampoo. He had towelled off, but his hair was still wet. There was something about the sight of him with wet hair that sent her pulse racing, and she had been known to make them both late in the mornings because she couldn’t keep her hands off him after he had showered.
He ignored her and her lascivious stare, and instead went over to the closet and started to flick through the clothes she had brought with her. He settled on a long, gauzy skirt and a button-through camisole top, both suitable for the summer heat of the planet.
“Put these on,” he said. “No underwear, so make sure that those buttons stay done up.”
She knew, immediately, that at some point in the day those buttons were going to come undone. She hesitated over accepting the clothes, but swallowed her nervousness. He had promised that she wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of her shipmates, and she trusted him. As she took the clothes from him with hands that shook a little, he made her repeat her safewords.
“Green,” she said heavily. “green, green, green. And red, and yellow. But right now, green.”
She got another smack on the backside and look of amused exasperation, then he pulled on his clothes, lightweight pants and a short sleeved shirt that pulled tightly across his broad back and shoulders and displayed his shapely forearms. She dressed too, amazed at how naked she felt, despite the fact that between the camisole and the long skirt, she was wearing far more material than in her daily uniforms. He pulled her close for some hot, sweet kisses and then they were gone, transported directly into the centre of the planet’s major city.
It was a beautiful city, but Christine was so focused on the sensations on her body that she paid very little attention to the scenery around her. She felt every gust of wind that tickled up her skirt, and her nipples peaked and hardened as they rubbed against the silky material of her camisole top. Her breasts, usually enclosed in a well-fitting bra, jostled together as she walked, pulling at the buttons of her top and threatening to spill over the lacy edge. He had a tight grip on her wrist, and she clung close as he navigated them through crowded streets.
After a ten minute walk, he stopped outside what looked like an affluent person’s home. Despite it being in a row of shops, there was no large window displaying its wares. Instead there was a large wooden door with a discreet metal plaque in both the native and Federation Standard scripts, and a buzzer.
“Once we get in there, you’re only to talk to me, do you understand?” he held her by the chin, staring directly into his eyes. “But you’re only to talk unless spoken to, or you want to safeword. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, and he dropped her chin. He pressed the buzzer and the door was opened immediately by a tall, gray-skinned man dressed in the long formal robes that all the male members of the native population wore.
“Mr McCoy? A pleasure to meet you. I am Chaud. Welcome to my establishment. This way, please. How am I to address your companion?”
“This is Miss Chapel,” McCoy replied as they entered. “But any questions you have for her can be addressed to me.”
“I understand,” Chaud replied.
Christine started a little at that, but the pressure on her wrist increased slightly and she relaxed. This was just all part of the game, and Chaud did not seem perturbed by the idea that she did not speak for herself.
Chaud led them down a narrow passage and through another set of doors into a cavernous space that Christine did not expect from the size of the house in the street. Along the right hand side of the rectangular room were small booths with glass doors. They were dark and empty, and looked for all the world like shower cubicles. On the left of the room was a long wooden counter that held scanning equipment very similar to the tricorders she used on board ship. The rest of the room was divided by long lines of display cases into aisles. She could not see past the first one.
“To start, Mr McCoy, it is necessary to take the measurements of your companion. All of our items will be adjusted to her specific size and weight. Tell me, do you anticipate any fluctuations in her body mass?”
Christine stiffened and McCoy kept an admirably straight face as he replied in the negative.
“You will permit me to scan your companion?” Chaud enquired as he picked up one of the machines. “I can assure you it is a completely non-invasive procedure.”
McCoy nodded his acquiescence and Chaud began, using all of the equipment on the counter-top. McCoy watched intently, asking myriad questions about the devices and their functions. Christine felt the slightest tinge of annoyance - now was not the time for him to be thinking about adding new tech to their sickbay! He caught the look on her face and winked at her before schooling his face into something much more suitable for the occasion.
The final machine blinked and beeped, and Chaud looked pleased.
“I now have a full set of measurements, both internal and external. We can now proceed with your inspection of my stock. Did you have anything in particular in mind, Mr McCoy?”
“Let’s start with restraints,” McCoy said with an evil grin on his face. Chaud nodded, and walked towards the middle of the room, the two humans trailing behind him.
“Here we have a selection of arm and wrist restraints,” Chaud began, waving his arm towards a glass-fronted cabinet. “What did you have in mind?”
It turned out that McCoy had some very specific things in mind. Chaud paused before touching Christine, waiting for permission from McCoy who waved irritably, his attention on the two gold-colored metal bands Chaid had selected from the display. Christine stood silently as two lightweight cuffs were clipped around her wrists.
“They fasten automatically, and cannot be undone by the wearer. The lock is controlled remotely by this handset, which also controls the magnetic aspect of the cuffs.”
Chaud pressed a button, and the cuffs locked shut. He pressed another, and Christine’s wrists flew together. She tried to pull them apart, but they wouldn’t budge. Chaud passed the control key to McCoy, who examined the process for himself.
“What is the emergency cut-off procedure?” McCoy asked as he released the magnetic hold and reapplied it, watching Christine’s wrists fall away and back to each other as he kept pressing the button.
Chaud demonstrated the override switch. Christine wouldn’t be able to reach it, but McCoy could.
“There is a matching set of ankle restraints,” Chaud said, and brought them out of the cabinet. McCoy nodded permission, and Chaud fastened them around her ankles. She wobbled as McCoy operated their magnetic aspect, and he stepped in to steady her.
“You comfortable?” he asked. “Do they pinch?”
“No,” she replied honestly. “They’re lined with something soft. They’re tight, but they don’t hurt.”
“They’ve been calibrated to restrict movement but not circulation,” Chaud offered. “They will not harm your companion.”
“Could they have some kind of clip attached?” McCoy asked. “I’ll want to tie something to them.”
Chaud made a notation on his PADD.
“Of course, Mr McCoy. The clip will fold out of the cuff, for when you need it.”
“Excellent,” McCoy said. “I’ll take a set in gold for wrists and ankles, and a set in blue.”
Chaud make another notation. “Do you wish to examine suspension restraints?” he asked pleasantly.
“I’m afraid that there is no provision for suspension in our current location,” McCoy said wistfully.
Chaud nodded. “Do you wish to release Miss Chapel from her restraints, or would you like her to wear them as you browse?”
McCoy’s eyes gleamed. “She’ll wear them,” he said, but he did de-magnetise the ankle cuffs so she could walk. He repositioned her arms so that her wrists were fastened behind her back, and re-magnetised the wrist cuffs. This position caused her breasts to be pushed forwards, and he ran his hands over them before stepping away from her. Christine blushed, embarrassed at this public display, but Chaud seemed entirely uninterested in them and was busy punching details into his PADD.
“May I show you our selection of hobbles?” Chaud said, walking to another display case. “They will allow your companion to have a limited mobility.”
McCoy watched as Chaud demonstrated the hobble on her, and she shuffled backwards and forwards awkwardly in front of them. After determining how the hobble chain could be attached to the ankle cuffs she wore, McCoy ordered three different lengths in both blue and gold. As before, Chaud asked if he wanted the hobbles left on and McCoy agreed.
“What can I show you now?” Chaud offered.
“Collars,” McCoy said firmly. “And leashes.”
Christine felt her blush rise. He had wormed out of her one day that she had once fantasised about being leashed, but he hadn’t brought the subject up again. She had almost forgotten that she had told him. The two men strode off down another aisle and she stumbled after them, walking carefully as not to upset her precarious balance.
McCoy looked back over his shoulder to check on her, and grinned evilly when he saw he shuffle behind him. She grinned back, and then returned to a more appropriate demeanour.
By the time she reached the two men, Chaud had pulled out a rack of collars that would fit her slender neck. Some were ugly things, large and dark and filled with metal studs and buckles. Some were very thin and fine, more like necklets than collars. They were beautiful, but not what she had imagined. McCoy’s hand drifted over the collection before selecting one that was mid-way between the two extremes in size.
“A good choice, sir. This comes in a range of colors, and can be inscribed. It has a clip here, for attaching a leash, or you could use a shorter length of restraint chain or rope to fasten Miss Chapel to an item of furniture.”
“Put it on her,” McCoy said thoughtfully.
Chaud did, and his measurements must have been precise down to the last micrometer, because it fit perfectly. Christine could feel the pull of the metal around her neck, its weight solid and constant, but she could breathe quite easily.
McCoy walked in a circle around her, examining the collar from all sides before coming to a halt behind her. He slipped his finger underneath the collar, tugging it tight against her throat. Christine gasped.
“How does it feel?” he said innocently.
“Tight,” she gasped, and he let go of it. “Better now,” she said pointedly. “There’s no chafing.”
“You can breathe? Swallow?” he asked.
She nodded her head.
“Show me how the leash connects,” he said as he turned back to Chaud. The tall gray man fit the leash into the clip beneath Christine’s chin, and demonstrated how easily it could attach and detach.
“There are varying length of leash, and varying styles and materials,” Chaud informed McCoy. “The most popular is a composite material that had the flexibility of rope but the tensile strength of steel. A new technology from the Cardassian homeworld.”
He gave the end of the leash to McCoy who examined it closely.
“This will fit to the restraints I’ve already selected?” he asked, tugging on it firmly, giving Christine no choice but to stumble awkwardly towards him.
“Yes, the clip is a standard fit for my products,” Chaud said proudly.
“I’ll take the collar she’s wearing in a gold that matches the cuffs, and a one in a blue to match the other set. Three leashes, in both colors. Short, medium and long lengths, long enough to tether her to a spot but allow limited movement.”
Chaud updated his PADD again. “Of course, Mr McCoy, that will not be a problem. What else did you require today?”
“Nipple clamps,” McCoy said firmly. “I’ve heard you do a good vibrating range.”
“The very best in the beta quadrant,” Chaid said simply. “Please follow me.”
He drifted off elegantly down the aisle. McCoy slipped the looped end of the leash over his wrist and tugged on it a little.
“Give me a color,” he said, looking deep into her brown eyes.
“Green,” she said, a little breathlessly.
“How green?” he asked suspiciously.
“Green enough,” she said with a nervous smile.
He looked at her for a long moment before kissing her fiercely.
“Alright then,” he said, and he walked away slowly, leaving her to shuffle behind him. With every step she could feel the juncture of her thighs get wetter and wetter and her nipples had been standing proudly through the silk of her camisole ever since the cuffs had been slipped onto her wrists. She bit her lip and revelled in the emotions she was feeling. Excitement, definitely, but with a hint of fear. She knew that McCoy would not harm her, but she did not know what he had planned. That lack of knowledge and control was terrifying but exhilarating.
Definitely green, she concluded.
She rounded the last corner and her eyes widened. Chaud had laid out a dazzling array of clamps, and she could tell what was going to happen next by the look on McCoy‘s face. Sure enough, he tugged her to a halt and hung the leash over a convenient hook on the display wall, which she realised with a blush had been put there just for this purpose.
“Your clamps are padded?” McCoy asked over his shoulder as he started to flick open the buttons of her camisole.
“Not all of them,” Chaud replied, “but they can be adjusted to fit padding if you require it.”
Christine let out a tiny gasp as he finished undoing her last button, and he peeled back the flimsy material to expose her breasts to the cool air. McCoy turned away from her to peruse the collection, and then spent the next ten minutes trialling different designs. She gasped and moaned her way through his experimentation, forgetting that Chaud was waiting impassively for McCoy to make up his mind in her haze of pain and pleasure. He selected five styles of clamp, two that vibrated in a way that she found very pleasurable and three that pinched in a way that she did not. One set, ordered in both colors, came with a chain that hooked onto her collar.
McCoy mercifully decided that she didn’t have to wear the clamps for the rest of their shopping expedition, and Chaud quickly tidied his inventory away.
“Paddles,” McCoy informed him before the tall man could ask. “Also floggers and canes.”
“This way,” Chaud said, and glided off in front of them. McCoy unhooked the leash and followed after him, tugging Christine along. The front of her camisole flapped and her breasts jiggled as she stumbled after him, her abused nipples hot and sore in the cool air of the store. Surely this was going to be the limits of her exposure, she thought as they rounded another corner. It wasn’t as if he was going to paddle her here in front of the impassive owner of the store.
Her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw the tall man waiting with an unlocked cabinet of paddles and what looked suspiciously like a whipping bench positioned in the middle of the aisle.
“Would you care to test out the paddles on Miss Chapel, sir?” Chaud asked politely.
McCoy frowned. “I’m not comfortable using items that others have used,” he said as politely as he could. Christine let out a tiny sigh of relief, only to have her hopes dashed.
“We sanitise every item after each inspection, sir, “ Chaud replied, picking up a hand-held sonic sanitizer just like they used in sickbay. “You are welcome to sanitise any item you wish to trial yourself, of course.”
McCoy brightened as he took the sanitising unit and inspected it. He unlocked the magnetic function on Christine’s cuffs and unhooked the hobble chain. He kept a firm grip on the leash as he walked her over to the bench and bent her over it, magnetising the cuffs again so they stuck to the metal legs of the bench. She had no view except that of the scrupulously clean floor, and no matter how much she wiggled, she couldn’t move. Panic fought with excitement, and lost, barely.
Then McCoy hitched up her skirt and tucked it into her waistband, displaying her still-reddened ass.
“I’d like to try that one first,” she heard him say, and she heard the hiss of the sonic sanitizer as he ran it over whatever he was holding. A paddle, she discovered, as she took three fairly gentle slaps at her raised backside. She let out a hiss of pain and surprise, and got another three, heavier, slaps.
“Hmm,” she heard McCoy say as the sanitizer hissed again. “Good, but not really making the impression I’m looking for. Let me try the one at the back.”
A hiss then three gentle taps again, only this time the pain was a stinging one. The next three really hurt and she let out a real cry of pain.
“Better,” McCoy said with satisfaction. “This one, and the matching one, the bigger one.”
She could hear the sound of Chaud’s fingers over the PADD, and the hiss of the sanitizer.
Next came a flogger, lengths of what felt like soft leather. He danced it over her backside and thighs and it actually felt quite pleasant. She hummed in appreciation, until he started to flick it just that bit harder, when it made her wriggle and gasp.
“Perfect,” McCoy said happily. “And I’ll take the shorter one also.”
It took him three tries with the selection of canes before he was able to select once that felt right in his grip. Christine was crying by the time he finished, having taken nine strokes, and he spent ten minutes sitting by her and stroking her face, kissing her as he calmed her down. She refused to safeword at his offer; despite the pain she was incredibly aroused by their whole experience that morning and she was desperate to continue.
He tried out several more crops and slappers, before trialling an evil device that Christine took an immediate dislike to. It delivered a sharp painful shock to a very tiny area of skin, and she screamed each time he used it. Of course, he bought it as soon as he registered her hatred of it.
She was crying again by the end of it, mainly due to the frustration of being unable to move. The cuffs held her firmly in place, and all she could do was try to wriggle out of the way of whatever he chose to do with her. She didn’t register the cuffs unlocking until she felt McCoy’s gentle hands on her shoulders. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms, one strong arm wrapped firmly around her waist.
“Yellow,” she whispered into his chest.
He smoothed her hair, and stroked her back.
“We need a minute, Chaud,” he informed the proprietor. The tall man melted away respectfully into the aisles.
She sniffed against his chest, and they stood in silence for a few minutes.
“I’m ok,” she said eventually, leaning back to look him in the face.
“Say the word and this ends now,” he said sincerely.
“No,” she replied quickly. “No, I like this, I do. That was just...intense. I’m good now. We can keep going.”
She looked at him earnestly, and he used his thumbs to wipe away the tracks of her tears.
“Alright,” he said eventually. “But we’re going to take the pace down a little. How do you feel about some quiet time?”
Christine nodded gratefully, and McCoy had her back in her shackles and hobble very quickly. He called for Chaud, and by the time the man rematerialised from around a corner Christine was ready to continue.
“Chaud, Miss Chapel is going to retire to one of your waiting areas while we conclude our business,” McCoy informed him. Chaud nodded and led the way back to one of the shower cubicles that Christine had noticed earlier. This was no comfortable waiting area, however. There were no chairs or benches. Not that I’d be able to sit down right now, Christine thought.
Instead, a pair of suspension cuffs dangled from a hook set in the ceiling. It was a matter of seconds to have her out of her gold cuffs and into the specially designed suspension ones, and Chaud used the measurements he had taken earlier to determine the optimum height for the chain attaching the cuffs to the ceiling hook. She was raised onto her tiptoes, and she immediately felt the stretch along her back and shoulders. McCoy stepped into the booth to kiss her, and run his hands over her sore, abused backside and still-tender breasts, both still exposed to the air.
“I’m not going to gag you,” he said quietly. “I should be gone no longer than fifteen minutes.”
He looked deep into her eyes, and she read a tender concern there. She nodded, and he smiled before pinching both nipples very quickly. She screamed in outrage and his grin became evil, then he stepped back and activated the force-field that would keep her restrained even if she somehow worked her way out of the cuffs.
“Gags, I think Chaud,” she heard him say as the men walked away. “Miss Chapel can be quite loud when she wants to be.”
She had no idea how long he was actually gone, but it must have been about the fifteen minutes he said he would take. She was concentrating hard on keeping her footing, as the slightest slip made her swing back and forth. She didn’t want to slip into the force field, because she had the distinct impression that would hurt far more than the caning had.
Eventually McCoy returned, looking very pleased with himself. Chaud released her from the cuffs and the hobble and thanked them both courteously for their patronage before disappearing off into the aisles again.
McCoy buttoned her camisole up and untucked her skirt, making her look presentable again.
“There,” he said. “Now you look decent. Time for lunch, I think.”
He took her by the wrist, and led her back to the door they had entered by. Christine looked confused and was about to ask a question, but remembered to hold her tongue just in time.
McCoy nodded approvingly at her as they exited the store and headed back out into the bright sunshine.
“The toys will be sent directly to the villa,” he said as they walked slowly down the street, Christine getting used to walking without the hobble. “You can speak freely now it’s just us.”
They continued their slow walk, Christine leaning on him more and more.
“Are you alright?” he asked as they rounded a corner into what appeared to be the main square.
“I’m hungry,” she said as they passed a restaurant. He laughed and shook his head.
“I was referring to your ass,” he said fondly. “But if you’re picking your stomach over your ass, you must be hungry. We’ll stop for lunch. I won’t make you eat anything disgusting, but I’ll be picking your meal.”
She nodded warily, and they headed into a busy looking restaurant. She winced as her ass made contact with the solid wooden chair, and he smirked at her. He ordered her a platter of spicy fried foods that smelt absolutely heavenly, food that she usually ignored in favour of lower-fat, healthier options aboard ship.
“Don’t make a face,” he warned. “Or I’ll make you eat dessert too.”
“Oh no,” she intoned in a monotone, “not dessert! Who will save me from this evil man?”
“Keep joking honey, but you didn’t see what I picked up after you took your time-out,” he said wickedly. “You may not want to upset me when you see what I bought.”
She shut up abruptly, and he laughed again. The food arrived then, and Christine attacked it with gusto, her stomach clearly more important than her ass. He did order her a dessert, and she did finish it all, but it was clearly not the great punishment they both pretended it was.
“Happy?” he asked her after the servers had cleared away their meal and processed their payment.
“Sore,” she said with a grumble. “But very happy.”
“We’re going for a bit of sight-seeing,” he informed her. “It’s a pity I couldn’t get Chaud to let me have the collar and leash straight away, I’d love to show you off, but the inscription will take time to engrave.”
She caught her breath. She knew that he wouldn’t make her wear it in public, but the very thought of being paraded around in public by him was a very enticing one. He must be a mind-reader, because he grinned wickedly at her.
“Never mind though,” he said as he helped her up out of her chair and gripped her tightly by the wrist. “There are bound to be some secluded areas here. Maybe I’ll take the opportunity to check on your bruises before we head back to the villa.”
She stomached tumbled helplessly as they made their way back into the bright sunshine and he lead them towards an ancient-looking building that had people trickling in and out of its doors. It had the grandeur of a cathedral in the shape of a castle, and within minutes of entering and taking one of the tourist maps, McCoy had steered them towards the deserted end.
“No shiny artefacts down here,” he murmured into her ear. “No displays or information boards. Very sparse. Very boring.”
He was right. They met a few bored looking tourists coming from the direction they were headed, but otherwise the warren of rooms was deserted. McCoy picked the room furthest from the main corridor, and shut and barred the door behind him.
“Strip,” he ordered, and she looked about nervously before her fingers started to slip the buttons through the holes in her camisole. She couldn’t see any cameras. In fact, the room was totally devoid of all furniture except a large wooden table, clearly centuries old and scarred beyond public display.
She let the camisole fall from her shoulders, and taking a deep breath, she pulled her skirt down over her hips. She kicked off her shoes and stood in front of him, completely naked.
“Take down your hair,” he said after a moment, and with trembling fingers, she obeyed.
“Hands behind your head,” he said as he circled her, and she obeyed with a slight hitch in her breath.
He stopped behind her, and she felt his cool hands on her heated ass. He pressed against the marks left by the canes and she couldn’t help but cry out.
“Does this hurt?” he asked innocently, and she gasped as she answered.
He kept his hands pressed there for what seemed like an age, rubbing and pulling at her skin.
Tears formed in her eyes and she could feel them threatening to spill out.
“How about this?” he said, shifting his hands forward and up to clutch at her breasts. His clever fingers found her nipples immediately and began to roll and tug.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, the tears coming down her face freely now.
“Yet you’re very wet,” he said thoughtfully as one of his hands descended to her pussy, which by now was leaking as much as her face was. He pushed a thick finger inside her and she moaned uncontrollably, letting out a small scream when he thrust another inside her.
“Slut,” he said affectionately, and planted a row of kisses down the side of her neck.
Between the insistent thrusting of his fingers, the plucking of her nipple and the gentleness of the kisses, Christine felt the stirrings of an almighty orgasm start to build. She writhed in his arms, and he chuckled.
“Ah ah, you know the rules,” he chided, withdrawing his fingers and using his free hand to take a handful of her hair. “Not without my permission.”
“Please,” she begged, her knees sagging with the effort of keeping herself upright. “Please, I’ve got to come. Let me come.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered directly into her ear. She gasped in relief as he led her by the hair to the table and bent her over it. He placed one hand on the back of her neck, and she heard him unzipping his pants with the other.
He groaned as his cock pushed into her tight channel, and she whimpered as he began to thrust powerfully into her. Her reddened ass was bearing the brunt of the weight of his body, and her naked breasts were being squashed into the table-top. She felt her orgasm build and build and she sobbed in frustration.
“Please!” she begged. “Please!”
He relented, loosened his grip on her neck and pushed one of his hands under her hips. Within a few seconds he had found her clit and worked at it furiously.
“You’ve got...thirty seconds...” he panted, but she didn’t need ten. Between the delicious ache in her breasts, the steady pounding of his cock and the friction on her clit she came loudly and explosively. He followed very soon afterwards, grunting her name as he emptied himself inside her.
She sighed happily as he withdrew and zipped himself up and gathered up her clothes. He threw them to her and gave her a spank on the ass which caused her to hiss.
“Get dressed,” he said.
She turned her face towards him, puzzled. “I can feel it trickling down my leg,” she said, a faint flush on her cheeks. “You usually...”
“Not today,” he said, bending to kiss her on the lips. “Today I want you to walk through the town dripping.” He spanked her ass again.
“Get a move on. I have plans.”
She pulled herself up onto shaky feet and grimaced as she pulled on her skirt and camisole. She felt that everyone would know exactly what they had been doing, that they would be able to see through the gauzy material of her skirt and trace the path of his semen as it made its path down her leg.
She felt a rumble of desire low in her belly again and resisted the urge to laugh. God, what this man did to her. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, then take that and give her even more. Acting completely on impulse, she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Thank you,” he said, smoothing her hair with his hand. The look of love in his eyes was so pure and heartfelt that she thought she may well cry at the sight of it. “Now, let’s go. I think we’ve given Chaud enough time to get the delivery organised. I’m in the mood to play some more.”
She smiled, and offered him her wrist.
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