Put Your Junk in the Box

By Spock Likes Cats

STXI - Kirk, McCoy, Gaila. Summary: Kirk is cursed by an angry mother. Some frank mentions of male anatomy, but no specific sexual activities.

A/N: Inspired by the song "Detachable Penis" from Missile Kings and Captain Kirk's notorious history with females. Also by a certain picspam featuring Chris Pine. Captain Pike's words to Kirk are from the excellent story "Measure of a Man" by LadyFangs. Thanks to Aphrodite 319 for some great ideas toward story resolution!

DISCLAIMER – Of course, I don't own Star Trek. If I did, I'd be rollin' in dough and riding my horse near the Pacific Palisades and cruising on my yacht. But I might just be reading the good ST fanfic! Original characters are mine, mine, mine!

CHAPTER ONE: "'Pop!' Goes the Weasel"

"Bones…" it was Jim Kirk's voice. "Can you make a … a house call?"

"Sure, Jim," McCoy said affably. He'd had his fortified coffee and a full breakfast. All was right in his world.

Not so much in Jim's, he found, after arriving at the captain's cabin. The Enterprise had just left planet Axillos, rather in some haste, the doctor thought, and he suspected he might be about to find out why.

"Uh …this is pretty embarrassing," the young captain said, his cheeks flushing to contrast with his aquamarine eyes in such a manner that, had McCoy been homosexual, he would have found most appealing. Jim sounded like he had a stuffy nose.

"Did you catch another in your endless series of STDs? And what's wrong with your nose?" McCoy asked, preparing a shot.

"N-no, it's a lot worse … weirder … mmm, it happened on Axillos, there …"

"What happened, Jim? If you don't start giving me some details I'm gonna turn Vulcan on you and say 'specify.'"

"Well, I, uh… met this really attractive young woman … only I didn't know she was a princess … and her father punched me out and her mother cursed me because we had … well, you know, the old 'Kirk magic,'" he mumbled.

"Yeah, you mean you tried your usual? Dammit, Jim, how many times have I discussed this with you?" McCoy shook his head. Most human males were incredibly stupid, insensitive louts. He himself liked to get laid on occasion, but he tended to make sure the lady was as free with her favors as he was with his. McCoy was not one who wanted to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake. While Jim acted regretful, and sometimes genuinely was, he often exhibited the sensitivity of a rhinoceros.

McCoy held up a hypo. Ever since their first day aboard the Enterprise, Kirk felt rather threatened by his hypos.. "Tell me. Right now."

"Okay, okay … she and I had a really nice dinner … I saw her in this little cocktail bar, y'know, you wouldn't think of a princess hanging out in a regular old cocktail bar, would you? So I bought her some drinks ["Wine 'em," McCoy thought] and bought her some dinner ["Dine 'em"] and we got a hotel room ["Dick 'em"] and the next morning she was bubbling over about how I'd agreed to be her consort and oh, her mother was going to be so pleased, and I made the mistake of saying, 'Excuse me?'"

And we have now arrived at "Dump 'em," McCoy thought.

"The next thing I knew, there I was in my dress uniform, meeting Dad and Mom in the hotel lobby, and Alinula was going on and on about what a happy couple we would be. So I explained that I had not been aware she was a princess, and she hadn't told me she was a princess, and I couldn't marry a princess because I had a few Starfleet obligations that would prohibit me from staying on Axillos … and her mother got really mad and said, 'So you Starfleet louts cannot tell a genuine Axillan princess?' and I was so ticked off at her and her mother I made things worse by saying, 'Well, I couldn't tell her much' and her father popped me one in the nose while her mother cursed me: 'You shall lose that with which you found cheap pleasures with my daughter!' "

"Is your nose broken again?" asked the medico.

Jim shook his head, and repeated, in injured tones, "…Cursed me!"

And with this last desperate exclamation, Kirk dropped his pants, both trousers and boxers, and Pop! He took. Off. His PENIS. The testicles came away with it, so Kirk was holding a unit that looked like something McCoy had once found in his ex-wife's underwear drawer. Only Joyce's was not comprised of living tissue.

McCoy's mouth dropped open. His eyes lit up. "Do that again!"

Kirk sighed heavily, almost pouting, and glared at him from under his heavy brows. He put his penis back in place and McCoy watched, crouching [Kirk shied away a step, but McCoy barked, "I'm not gonna bite it, I'm a doctor, dammit!"] to watch the flesh at the juncture surrounding Jim's testes and penis knit itself back together, quite neatly, under his pubic hair.

"Holy shit," the doctor breathed. "I wish I could document this …" [Or cockument it, his punning brain supplied; his brain was a little too alert after that fortified coffee…] "Take it off again, Jim; I want to see what it does. How is it that you're not bleeding, for example?"

Jim glared again. "How is it that you're not bleeding? Wondering that, Bones?"

Nevertheless, his hand moved to grasp his semi-tumescent member [to McCoy's recollection, it was never not semi-tumescent, except when Kirk was 'gettin' busy,' per the rapturous reports of many cadet women, some men, and a few multi-sexed beings at the Academy], and gently pulled it away from his loins, and, using his bio-scanner, McCoy saw that the cells were detaching at the molecular level.

"Jim … I'm afraid you're on your own until I can find a … er, a … root cause for this. A scientific root cause, y'know, not a curse."

"Gee, thanks, Bones."

"Just try to keep it zipped for a while, Jim. You can do that, can't you?"

Kirk glared.

Bones left.

.

Ensign Becky "BJ" Jillian was a willowy young lady with lovely green eyes and bronze hair. Her skin was café au lait, and her lips were sensual and deep pink in color. And her figure was killer: generously rounded breasts and rump and well-muscled thighs, with a slender waist. Kirk had lusted after her for months, and found her in the officers' mess at dinnertime. He flashed his great charming smile at her, made his "Aw, shucks" face when she saw his smile and began to respond, and all but strutted over to her.

"How would you like to come up to the Observation Deck for dessert?" he asked in a whisper.

"I might like that," she whispered back.

"Meet me there in ten."

"Aye, aye," she said, her voice already on simmer.

Kirk turned awkwardly around and looked at her, unsure of what she meant. "Umm … that wasn't an official order, by the way. I just wanted to make sure you knew that beforehand."

"Of course I knew that!" she smiled, that much more charmed by his diffident manner.

He smiled again and walked out through the doors.

.

So here they were in a "private" viewing area, equipped with a couch, a comms device, and a sound dampener, having a lovely, lengthy "dessert." Kirk and Becky, for that was her first name, had consummated their brief friendship about seven different ways, and were just finishing the last, when an ominous feeling came over Kirk's groin and a weird "pop!" almost like a wine cork's sounded in the quiet, starlit room.

Kirk pulled back and Becky's face grew very very pale, and she mustered up some breath to start screaming, but Kirk quickly put his hand over her mouth and said, "Imagine how I feel," and her panicky breathing quickly subsided while she motioned frantically at him:

"Just get it out of me! Oh ye gods! Yaaaakh!" She ran out of the room, putting her uniform back into place, and, holding her hand to her mouth, headed for the toilets.

So much for seeing her again, Kirk thought. He pondered his penis and testicles, sitting, in a rather flaccid way, on his hand. He looked down at the blank area where these items would, he supposed, knit back onto his body. Not so bad, in and of itself; it might even make cleaning easier—the only thing he had to overcome was the female freak-out factor.

.

A/N: "Pop" Goes The Weasel is my little joke. At one time there was a theory that this lyric in the old English folk song referred to a man's 'man-part'. But, as you can see from a look at the folklore page or the Wiki page or the "origin of the phrase" page, nope, it isn't. Never was, except in some of our dirty lil' minds.

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome!