Star Trek - TOS all the way!

"That’s exactly why!" Hope giggled, a mock admonishing look on her face, but the doctor saw right through her, knowing how she thrived on his adoration. 

And on teasing him. Instantly proving him right, when she turned her back toward him, her dress still unfastened all the way down from her neck to well under her waist, her silky skin inviting his eager hands to explore. 

“Don’t even think about it,” she cautioned, her voice low and sultry, clearly enjoying driving him to the limits of his restraint, then added, "You may, however, help me fasten this thing."

McCoy was only too happy to oblige, tracing her spine with delicate fingers and softly kissing the nape of her neck as he did so, appreciating the goosebumps and little shiver, followed by a barely stifled sigh, with a satisfied smile. 

"Anything else I can help with?" he drawled softly, placing his hands on Hope’s waist and gently turning her around to face him, knowing exactly the effect this had on her. Two could play the game. 

“Yes, Leonard, be a dear and pass me my magic wand, if you please!” she practically purred, then acted surprised when the doctor drew her close, undeniable proof of his eagerness pressing against her belly.

Letting out a soft moan, Hope gripped his hips, pulling him tighter and rubbing herself a little against his pulsing need. 

“You sure, you wouldn’t rather play with my magic wand right now?” McCoy asked suggestively, his voice husky with longing, as his hand found its way under her gown, sliding tenderly up her leg, teasing fingers finding her already wet and trembling at his touch. 

"Stop, please!" she whispered, and he could see the struggle in her eyes. "I really need to be on time for band practice before tonight’s party."

"All right, love," the doctor relented, gently removing his hand and trying to rein in his own desire. "Just one kiss, and then I’ll leave you to it. Count Dracula needs to get ready for tonight’s party, too."

Their kiss was passionate, lingering just long enough for him to feel Hope quiver with longing and need. But when his hand started to wander again, she exhaled sharply and stepped back determinedly. 

“Careful, Leonard,” she warned him sweetly, “I’m a witch after all! And if you keep being naughty, I might have to teach you a magic lesson and put a spell on you.”

“Oh, now I’m scared,” McCoy chuckled, fondly taking in her flushed face. “I’m a scientist. I don’t believe in magic.” 

"We’ll see. Let’s talk about this again after the party. Maybe you’ll change your mind!” Hope added cheekily. 

"Hardly," the doctor smirked, "but if anyone could make me believe in magic, it would certainly be you, love."

And tenderly kissing the tip of her nose, he turned around and disappeared into the bathroom. 

*******

God, why is he still affecting me so much after all this time? Jenny wondered, staring after him longingly. Leonard was perfectly aware of how powerless she was to resist him when he used that voice and touched her so delicately. And he also knew how to exploit that knowledge to the full – in the best of ways. 

He’d never do anything she didn’t want, or be pushy in any way, always checking in, making sure she felt completely safe with him. But he could be merciless in his teasing, utterly enjoying how helplessly aroused she became, which usually resulted in her experiencing pleasure beyond words.

A glance at the time brought her back to the present. She was just about to leave, when her gaze fell on McCoy’s costume laid out on the bed, and a naughty idea struck her. Leonard had made sure she would spend the evening performing with the band horny, and she’d love nothing more than to return the favour. 

Opening her desk drawer, Jenny pulled out a little notepad and pen. A thoughtful present from Leonard, knowing that she still preferred real paper to a screen. Sitting down, she thought for a minute, then wrote a few lines with a pleased smile on her face. 

She carefully folded the note and slid it into the pocket of Count Dracula’s cape, leaving the paper just peeking out so he wouldn’t miss it.  

And with one last wistful glance at the bathroom door, Jenny grabbed her wand and hurried out the door.

*******

When McCoy returned from the bathroom, Hope was already gone, and he smiled, revelling in the scent of her perfume still lingering in the air. He’d never fully grasp how he could be so lucky in love after all the heartbreak he’d known before this amazing woman had come into his life. But he’d learned to accept it as a blessing rather than trying to rationalise it, simply basking in the warmth and boundless comfort she offered so freely. 

After a cold shower to regain control over his body following his steamy moments with Hope earlier, the doctor was just starting to get dressed, when a piece of paper sticking out of the pocket of his cape caught his eye. 

“What’s she been up to now?” he grumbled affectionately, reaching for the note and opening it carefully.

His eyes grew wide as he read, an amused grin spreading across his face. 

Tempt not the witch whose heart you claim, Her magic burns with love’s own flame. Count Dracula’s thoughts were far from pure, So a witch’s spell shall be his cure. Whenever he hears her name tonight, His spirit wakes, his calm takes flight. His senses stir with strange delight  At the sound of her name this haunted night. Better be ready for what may wake, And keep that cape loose – for decency’s sake.

McCoy had to laugh out loud. Lord, how he loved this woman! Loved her playful side. So sweet. So utterly her. The perfect antidote to his often darker moods. 

When he arrived in the assembly hall, the party was already in full swing, his favourite witch and Uhura, equally gorgeous in a leopard-print outfit, performing with their band and filling the room with their beautiful voices. 

Watching and hearing Hope sing never failing to lift his spirits, the doctor found a spot away from the designated dancefloor, peacefully nursing a drink and feeling only slightly ridiculous in his vampire outfit. 

Hope’s eyes met his across the room, and, as always, he instantly felt ‘his senses stir with strange delight’. He certainly didn’t need a spell for that, he chuckled to himself, fondly touching a hand to the note in his pocket. This little witch knew exactly how to keep him on his toes. 

After a while, Jim, swashbuckling space pirate incarnate, appeared beside him, drink in hand and a content look on his face, as his eyes travelled around the hall, happy to see his crew enjoying themselves. 

“Those two are certainly a force of nature, aren’t they?” the captain smiled, nodding towards the stage. “Nothing boosting crew morale like a performance from Uhura and Hope.”

McCoy felt like lightning had struck him, a jolt of heat coursing through his body, the urge to just grab Hope from the stage and drag her off to their quarters mid-song almost irresistible. 

This was ridiculous! A simple note from Hope couldn't affect his subconscious like this. Or could it? She’d certainly always had a knack for getting under his skin. He was a grown man, CMO of the Enterprise, for heaven’s sake, not some hormone-addled cadet. Yet, here he was, pulse racing and palms sweating like a schoolboy with his first crush. 

The way she moved, the way she looked at him even from across a crowded room – it undid him every time. No science in the galaxy could explain the hold Hope had on him. One little rhyme, and suddenly he was fighting the urge to haul her off the stage and remind her exactly what sort of magic she’d stirred up. Maybe that was its own kind of spell. 

Looking at Kirk, the doctor wondered if something about the captain, the way he’d said her name might have triggered this disproportionate reaction. Maybe Jim was in on the joke? But Hope wouldn’t take anything intimate between them that far. No, it was simply the effect of her looking especially beautiful and sensual in her witch’s outfit tonight. And, of course, knowing what she wore underneath didn’t help, either.  

McCoy had barely regained his composure, ignoring Kirk’s strange, almost worried glances, when Scotty came up to them, clad in old-fashioned blue denim overalls, an ancient tool belt around his waist, and tenderly cradling a Scotch in his hand. Evidently not his first of the evening. 

“Ach, your lassie sure is a sight to behold,” he beamed, cheeks probably flushed as much from watching ‘the lasses’ as from the Scotch, and the doctor was relieved to feel nothing but pride at the chief engineer’s remark. 

No bolts of lightning, no fluster, no irresistible urges. Only the quiet, familiar amazement that this gorgeous, brilliant, and talented woman had chosen him for life. 

Until Chekov, routinely dressed up as the Czar of Russia, joined them with an enthusiastic "Holy moly! Jenny and Nyota look absolutely stunning tonight!" 

McCoy was struck by an instantaneous jolt of unbridled longing again and quickly tugged his cape around him to cover the inconvenient ‘stirring and waking’ in his trousers. Just as Hope’s note had advised. 

Taking a few deep breaths, momentarily tuning out of his friends’ conversation right next to him, the doctor tried to convince himself that this was nothing but his subconscious playing tricks on him after reading Hope’s spell. 

Her trick’s actually working, he couldn't help smiling – although he’d much rather have the treat. 

But that would have to wait until after the party. When he finally had her all to himself again and could get his sweet revenge. Oh, the things he would do to her… 

As if sensing his naughty thoughts, Hope’s eyes found his again, and her mouth curling into the tiniest grin, she gave him an almost imperceptible wink that set him right on fire again. 

*******

Jenny had a hard time keeping her focus on the music and the lyrics, hardly able to turn her eyes and thoughts away from McCoy, who was looking simply gorgeous in his costume. Unbidden images of this wickedly handsome vampire nipping at her neck and whispering sinful things in her ear kept flashing through her mind, and she nearly missed her cue. 

It was so sweet of him to play along with her silly spell. Visibly reacting every time someone spoke to him – probably saying her name – just to indulge her, was exactly his kind of humour and care. 

She’d meant the spell as a daft little joke, a playful admonishment for getting her so horny just as she had to leave. But it was just like him to make a whole thing out of it. Foreplay at its finest. He loved it, and he was so very good at it. And creative, too. 

But right now, having to perform, it was proving extremely distracting. Jenny couldn’t wait for the party to end, so she could finally ‘lift the spell’ which seemed to work on her just as much as he made her believe it affected him. 

So, as soon as they’d finished their last song, she excused herself and all but bolted off stage to Uhura’s knowing grin. But Count Dracula was nowhere to be found. And to Jenny’s dismay, Leonard wasn’t in their quarters, either. 

What she did find there, however, was a handwritten note on her pillow, letting her know that her spell had all but killed the Count, that it was far too late for her to lift it, and that the only way to break it now was to follow his instructions to the smallest detail. 

On the back of the note, it said to go find those instructions in her desk drawer, which she hurriedly did, a tingling rush of excited anticipation stirring inside her. If she knew Leonard at all, he had thought up some delicious form of sweet torment for her as ‘punishment’ for casting a spell on him.

Expecting another note, Jenny was surprised to find a communicator in her drawer. Quickly opening it, she smiled at hearing that beloved Southern drawl, soothing and thrilling all at once. 

“I’m craving witch’s blood tonight,” McCoy growled in a low voice, sending exquisite shivers down her spine. “And I can’t wait to sink my teeth in this particular witch’s delicate neck.”

That voice, that warmth, even cloaked in a growl, was enough to make her fall in love with him all over again. 

“What are your instructions, Count Dracula?” Jenny breathed, starting to feel flustered, even as she thought she heard Leonard stifle a surprised guffaw. 

“Grab your magic wand and hold it between your legs, witch!” he commanded. “Ride it like a broomstick. And don’t lift your gown! I want you to feel it rubbing against your womanhood through all the layers of your clothing.”

Jenny did exactly as she was told, her breathing growing heavier as the barely perceptible friction excited and frustrated her in equal measure. But just as she was getting wet enough for the wand to start stimulating her through her dress and underwear, the doctor thwarted her efforts. 

“Enough!” his voice boomed from the communicator. “We don’t want this to be over too soon. I love my witches drained and compliant.”

Jenny let out a desperate groan at that and was incredibly touched by McCoy’s next words. So very him.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked concernedly, his voice back in caring Leonard mode. 

Jenny felt a little flutter in her chest, a delicious ache that had nothing to do with her wand, just the sheer thrill of him being exactly who he was – loving, teasing, utterly impossible to resist. 

“I am,” she was quick to reassure him, warm affection softening her intense need a little. “Feeling perfectly safe – if a bit flustered – in the company of a bloodthirsty vampire. But tell me now, Count Dracula, what are your next instructions?”

There was a brief chuckle, and a pause, as the famous vampire slipped back into character, and Jenny conjured up his handsome face, the fangs giving him a rather distinguished look, longing to have him near and touch his lithe body, so sleek and desirable in his black and red cape.

“Now lie down on the bed, witch! On your back,” the Count ordered sternly. “You can take off your hat and lose your wand, but don’t even think about removing any of your clothes. Or putting your fingers where they don’t belong.”

That last command, of course, designed to make her ache for places she hadn’t even dreamed of touching just a moment ago, didn’t fail to have its intended effect, immediately sparking a delicious tension deep inside her. 

“You’re cruel, my Lord,” Jenny groaned, lying down on her back, gyrating her hips and clamping her thighs shut in a desperate attempt to ease the rising heat between her legs.

“No more than a witch casting a spell on an unsuspecting Count and making him suffer through a long Hallow’s night!” the doctor’s gravelly voice sounded from the communicator. 

“Fair enough,” Jenny chuckled, her hand unthinkingly reaching to hitch up the skirt of her dress.

“Hands staying idle at your sides!” Count Dracula scolded. Of course, he’d heard the dress rustling and had immediately guessed where her fingers were heading.

Despite the rising, almost unbearable need to touch herself, Jenny instantly obeyed and let go of the fabric again.

“So, tell me, please, how can we break the spell, dear Count?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat.

“Listen closely, my dear witch,” Leonard murmured unhurriedly, and Jenny could almost hear him smiling at her helpless and audible arousal. “Lift your gown just enough to reach a hand underneath and place it lightly between your legs, right where you crave it most. But let it rest flat against you. No pressing, no tapping, don’t even curl a finger until I say so.”

Jenny followed his instructions to the letter, growing more restless with every command. She couldn't even secretly soothe herself – too far gone to do so without making a sound. And Leonard knew every single sound in her repertoire like a conductor knows every single note in a symphony. 

“Now pay attention, witch!” the doctor’s stern words went straight to Jenny’s core. “For only if you do it right, the spell can be broken. If you fail, we’ll have to start all over again. Count to a dozen. Slowly and out loud. When you reach twelve, you may let one finger find bare skin. But employ it wisely, for you mustn’t come until you’ve counted to a dozen twice more. And when you do, there must be no noise. Absolute quiet is essential. Repeat the process five more times. And when you’re done, I’ll show you exactly how to break the spell.”

Despite being horny as hell just from hearing his instructions, Jenny had to smile at how naturally the doctor had slipped into Count Dracula’s role. Even after his earlier protests and agreeing to wear a costume purely for her sake. They’d never talked about role play as a way to spice up their love life. Not that it needed spicing up in the first place. But she had a feeling that he really enjoyed himself. It certainly turned her on no end. 

“Clock’s ticking, my dear witch,” McCoy’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she dutifully started to count, keeping her actions meticulously in line with the instructions, even though it drove her mad.

Never before had pleasuring herself felt so hot. Or so tormenting. Keeping from tumbling over the edge too soon was nigh impossible and getting harder with every passing climax. But the hardest thing for her by far was to keep quiet. And Leonard knew that perfectly well.

Jenny was just coming off her sixth high, one hand busy between her legs, the other desperately clamped over her mouth, when the doors to their quarters slid open, and Count Dracula stepped in. His eyes dark and hungry, he advanced with the quiet grace of a stalking cat, making her whole body vibrate with renewed heat.

*******

Finding Hope lying there like this, cheeks flushed, dress crumpled, hair a mess, more than ready for him to take care of her, sent McCoy reeling. Her light and beauty were breathtaking. 

“Roll over, witch!” he commanded. “On your stomach, so that I can rid you of your gown.”

Hope complied with a dazed smile, desire and exertion clearly having taken their toll. Seeing her so totally spent sent the most tender feelings to both his heart and his groin. 

“This has to be done exactly right,” the doctor drawled, unfastening the back of her dress and tenderly peeling her out, before stripping off his own boots and trousers. 

Gently grabbing her hips and pulling her towards where he was standing, the sight of her sprawled on the bed in her dazzling lingerie nearly undid him. He could hardly hold back anymore, when Hope pressed her pert little bottom against the palms of his hands, quite obviously needing more loving attention, even after all the orgasms she’d already brought herself to while he’d been on his way back to their quarters. 

Underneath the witch’s racy underwear, she was still his insatiable girl. The one he loved more than life and knew how to pleasure to distraction, he thought fondly, caressing the small of her back as a surge of tender affection swept through him. 

But he was already too close. After the “spellbound” evening he’d had, there was no way McCoy could hold out any longer, let alone take any more teasing. And when Hope started to wiggle her delightful butt against him invitingly, he knew she was just as keen for him to take her already. 

“Are you ready for my magic wand now, dearest, insatiable witch?” he murmured softly, undoing the little snap buttons at the crotch of her lingerie with a teasing flick and gently brushing his throbbing erection against the wetness of her entrance.

“I’ve been ready ever since I cast that spell,” Hope breathed, her unsteady voice giving away the desperate need to feel him inside her. 

Still, not wanting this incredible night to ever end, the doctor tried to go slow, pacing himself as he thrust into her from behind, his hands wrapped tightly around her hips, trying to guide her and set the rhythm. 

But as always, this position drove Hope wild and she started to push back against him in earnest, arching her back and throwing back her head, silently urging him to go faster and harder. 

And when she playfully asked if it had been the name Hope or Jenny that had triggered the spell, McCoy came with a guttural groan inside her, feeling her follow right after, as his body shuddered and trembled with aftershocks for the longest time. 

“Dammit, woman,” he ground out when he finally recovered the power of speech, rolling off her and tenderly gathering her in his arms, “that sure was supernatural. I guess I was not imagining being under your spell from the moment we met. You actually did bewitch me.”

Then, touching a gentle hand to her chin and lifting her face to look at him, he added with a wicked smile, “Don’t you dare return that costume! And don’t even think of ever lifting that spell.” 

“Oh, I’m not intending to,” Hope laughed, curling into him with a contented sigh. “Not when it feels so fantastic. And when I can make you believe in magic after all.”

****************