The Problem
McCoy was standing to attention in the transporter room. His dress uniform felt especially uncomfortable today, and he couldn't wait to get rid of it again, just like he couldn't wait to get rid of this nasty excuse for an ambassador. In hindsight, even Elaan of Troyius had seemed friendly and well-behaved compared to him. If the rest of this new member planet's population were anything like him, then God help the Federation!
The ambassador was as rude as they come and hadn't missed a chance to put his foot in it. McCoy couldn't shed the feeling that he'd enjoyed it, too. Had probably done it on purpose in the first place. He'd been arrogant and demanding. And highly disrespectful, especially of the female members of the crew. Uhura, who'd been chosen as his 'personal assistant', had taken the brunt of it, and McCoy had barely been able to keep his temper, witnessing the smart and amazing communications officer being insulted time after time.
Jim had been right, of course, Uhura was a woman who could take care of herself. And with her confident, kind and cheerful personality she'd probably been better suited for this job than any other crew member. But it had still been hard for the doctor to just stand by and watch her fight to keep her calm, and her seemingly never-ending patience.
McCoy stole a glance at Uhura, who was standing next to him. Judging from her unsmiling face, she definitely couldn't wait to see the back of the ambassador, either. On entering the transporter room, the goon had even had the audacity to ask her to join him for the rest of his voyage.
When she'd politely declined and wished him a safe journey, swiftly avoiding his roaming hands, as she'd learned to do over the past three days, he'd looked at her with such rage and hatred, it had sent a cold shiver down McCoy's spine. Yet, Uhura hadn't blinked an eye, firmly standing her ground. And McCoy had never admired her more.
Now, the ambassador was standing on the transporter platform, rudely waving away Kirk's parting words and addressing Uhura one final time.
"You'll regret not coming with me, you'll see, my sweet beauty," he sneered. "You'll slowly go insane without me, unable to help yourself, wishing I was still around to help you out. But I'll be long gone. So good luck finding help elsewhere!"
And just before the transporter beam took him away, he blew her a kiss, adding, "Third time lucky!" and McCoy could have sworn he actually saw the words float over and dissolve around Uhura's body.
As soon as the ambassador was gone, Jim exhaled noisily, turned on his heel and stomped out of the transporter room, closely followed by Spock, who seemed uncharacteristically relieved, too.
Bet he couldn't have taken much more of this offending behaviour, either, McCoy thought, grinning wryly.
But when his gaze returned to Uhura, who still hadn't taken a step towards the door, her tightly pressed lips and clenched fists took the grin right off his face again.
"Relax, Uhura," he said reassuringly, "he's gone now. And good riddance, too! You've done a terrific job. No one else could have handled him the way you did."
She flashed him a grateful smile that didn't reach her eyes, and he grew really concerned when he noticed that she was trembling.
"You alright, Lieutenant?" he asked softly, stepping towards her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Uhura shrank away from his touch, cringing as if his hand had scorched her.
"Don't worry, Doctor, I'm all right," she muttered under her breath, "I just need some peace and quiet." And when he didn't look convinced, reaching out for her again, she added an imploring, "Please!" then turned and fled from the transporter room, leaving a baffled and worried McCoy behind.
Uhura stumbled blindly towards the turbolift. She needed to get to her quarters as quickly as possible. Her whole body was on fire with an overpowering sexual desire that had hit her out of nowhere.
It had started the moment the ambassador had dissolved in the transporter beam, surprising her in a most embarrassing way, and she had a strong suspicion, that it had something to do with the ambassador's final words. What must the doctor have thought of her?
Knowing how caring and easily worried McCoy was, she just hoped, he wasn't coming after her. She was horny as hell and would probably jump his bones, no pun intended, right in the middle of a busy corridor, if he touched her again.
No, she needed to get to the privacy of her quarters ASAP and take care of her ever-growing need for relief.
Damn that ambassador! she thought angrily. This was the final insult.
As soon as the doors to her quarters had slid shut and locked behind her, she let out the groan that had been building in her throat for the past few minutes, and made a beeline for her bed, barely kicking off her boots on the way.
She flopped down on her back, not even bothering to remove her underwear or tights, and let her hands go straight to rub between her legs.
Only when the frantic movements of her fingers didn't seem to have the slightest effect on her desperate situation, did she slip one hand inside her soaking wet panties, hoping to finally find relief with the clothes out of the way.
That definitely had an effect. The moment her fingers had found their way in between her swollen folds, barely touching her sensitive nub, her body was jolted by a piercingly lustful sensation, off every scale she'd ever known, that nearly made her arch off the bed.
Finally! She couldn't have taken one more minute of this abnormal horniness.
But her relief was short-lived, when she realised that, instead of finally sending her over the edge, her fingers' actions only served to take her arousal to the next level.
She cried out in frustration, tossing her head from side to side, then got up from the bed and frenziedly began to rub herself against anything she could find. Her couch, a chair, the knob of one of her drawers, a rolled-up terry cloth, even her hairbrush, quickly moving on to the next thing after the initial alleviation of the first few seconds had worn off.
Through the haze of her unbridled lust, she tried to kickstart her brain back into action and focus on finding a way out of this predicament. Her own hands were obviously not enough to put an end to her ordeal.
Suddenly she remembered a dildo that her friends had given her for her 30th birthday as a joke, and desperately started rummaging around for it in her drawers. Annoyingly, it was still in its original packaging, and she had a terribly hard time unwrapping it with shaking fingers, unable to concentrate or even stand still for a second.
When she'd managed to switch it on at last, she rushed back to her bed, hoping against hope that this would be the answer to her prayers. But of course, that wasn't the case, and she was gripped by a terrible fear of being eternally stuck on the brink of orgasm, never achieving that final nudge that would send her over the edge.
Just then, her communicator beeped and Kirk's voice nearly made her jump out of her skin.
"Bridge to Uhura!"
Uhura knew she had to answer that call, if she didn't want a whole search team come looking for her. So she summoned up all her willpower and hoped her voice wouldn't betray her.
"Uhura here, Sir!" she squeaked.
There was a short pause, then Kirk said, "You sound exhausted, Lieutenant, but that's totally understandable. You did a great job with the ambassador. Why don't you take the rest of the day off and treat yourself?"
Uhura was too weak to laugh at the irony of his words, and just closed the channel with a curt, "Thank you, Sir!" She could worry about her lack of politeness later.
All that mattered now was to get away from the voice that had filled her room, and her groins. She wouldn't have lasted through a longer conversation. Funny, how she'd never noticed the captain's sexy voice before. But every one of his words just now had felt like sensuous lips wrapped around her clit, sucking and licking and thrilling her to the core.
Just like McCoy's comforting touch earlier, it suddenly dawned on her. No more than a friendly hand on her shoulder, it had felt like the most delicious caress of her private parts, raising her budding arousal to the highest levels of lust in a flash, and forcing her to flee from the transporter room on the double.
Unable to help yourself! the ambassador's words echoed in her head. That was it! she realised with a start. That had been his cruel, sadistic plan!The sensation of unbearable arousal was momentarily replaced by an all-consuming rage, only to return a second later with full force.
What was she to do? A feeling of helpless despair joined the other emotions racing through her body, while her hand kept mindlessly rubbing her clit in a futile attempt to keep her need to climax at bay. She needed help, but who could she turn to?
She was friends with most of her crew mates, even close with several of her male colleagues. But not that close. She could hardly walk up to any of them, especially in her frenzied state of mind, and ask them to sleep with her in order to rescue her from some dubious curse. It would be mortifying. And they wouldn't even believe her.
Suddenly it hit her. Dr. McCoy. He was a doctor and had certainly come across the most incredible and embarrassing health issues in his career. He was also the kindest, most caring and compassionate man she knew. And he'd been there and heard the ambassador's words, too. He would believe her. And hopefully, he'd have a remedy, some sedative that would put her under until the ambassador's curse lost its power over her.
Feeling hopeful at the thought, she got up to put her boots back on, wash the sweat off her face, and fix her hair as well as she could with one hand, while trying to keep her pulsing arousal in check with her other.
After she was done, it took her a while to summon up the will to remove her hand from her panties, and when she finally managed to, she sprinted out the door, making her way to sickbay in record time.