"Let's Get Physical"--Kirk/McCoy
Another KB fill for "Authority Figures".
Kirk likes to think about what would happen if his personal physician got a lot more personal during routine examinations. One-sided/pretty much all fantasy since Kirk knows he probably shouldn't actually mention this to McCoy.
It was a well known fact that Kirk hated physicals and a well known rumor that he had to be lured into sickbay with the promise of Saurian brandy and then ambushed with a series of medical tests.
So, naturally it didn't occur to anyone that Kirk thought about his personal physician taking advantage of his current position. Which would be quite easy as Kirk was lying on an examining table, completely helpless. He'd be even more completely helpless if there were some restraints to keep him from getting away when Dr. McCoy undressed him for a more invasive exam.
"Jim, I have never seen such a severe case of White Coat Syndrome," said Bones. "Nobody here's even got a white coat."
"What's that, Bones?" Kirk had been thinking about struggling against his restraints while his physician gave him a very careful, very thorough prostate exam.
"Your pulse." Bones gently touched his shoulder. "Relax, Jim."
Kirk did not suggest that being strapped to the table, having a few key regions roughly palpitated, and then being fucked by his chief medical officer would help him calm down. For one thing, Bones would point out that it sure as hell wasn't going to lower anybody's heart rate. And that would probably be the kindest thing Bones said to him if Kirk suggested that he be thoroughly groped and fucked during a routine medical examination. He might get a few things palpitated and digitally examined, but he was afraid it'd be all medical and no kink.
Fortunately Kirk tended to think about his doctor providing some unorthodox treatment during practically every physical, so Kirk's elevated heart rate wasn't anything alarming.
"It's all right, Jim," said Bones.
The table could probably support both of them. It'd be quite easy for McCoy to straddle his patient, pull his own cock out, and tell Kirk to open up and say "Ahhh."
"Just close your eyes and take a deep breath."
Kirk closed his eyes and waited to be taken advantage of. He'd object if his doctor started fondling him, but of course there'd be nothing he could do about it.
McCoy rubbed his arm in a way that could still be considered entirely professional. "Nice deep breaths."
"Nice deep breasts?"
McCoy poked him--in the arm with his finger, sadly. "Quit."
Kirk could've stood for more poking and prodding, especially if he was unceremoniously stripped first. Modern medical equipment was really unfortunate since he could be scanned fully clothed (although a medical tricorder was about the right size and shape to be inserted into him).
McCoy did not tell him, but Kirk assumed he'd scored too high on resting heart rate to meet duty requirements. Some Starfleet doctors would've immediately taken him off the duty roster and begun even more tests; McCoy gave everybody a few mulligans--especially if routine physicals made them agitated--and either gave them a few minutes alone or tried to talk them down himself. Kirk decided he owed it to him to be a good patient and stop thinking about how much he'd enjoy having a very bad doctor.
"Everything looks good," Bones said. It was a damned shame he wasn't referring to Kirk's teased dick or his spread legs or his stretched, come filled ass. "Just need that endurance test."
"Bones--"
"Jim, I don't care if you've got a note from God Almighty. It took me weeks to drag you in here, and you're not leaving until you've given me what I need."
"Yes, Doctor."
Bones rolled his eyes and did not tell Kirk that what he really needed was to fuck that smart mouth of his.
Kirk liked to pretend that he was required to take his shirt off for this particular test. It helped that Bones had given up on telling him it wasn't actually necessary. And it really helped that every so often he'd see Bones sneaking a non-diagnostic glance at him. Well, Kirk liked to think they were non-diagnostic.
"See something you like?" Kirk asked. He was in an interesting position if any horny doctors decided that the only possible treatment was for him to get a good, degrading fuck right out in the middle of sickbay (It might not actually be a feasible position, but it was very interesting).
"Yes," Bones said as he held out Kirk's shirt. "A stubborn patient who I'm not going to have to bribe, plead, or threaten to get him to come in for a physical for another six months."
Kirk didn't suggest a few things that would make him a much more enthusiastic patient.
Kirk likes to think about what would happen if his personal physician got a lot more personal during routine examinations. One-sided/pretty much all fantasy since Kirk knows he probably shouldn't actually mention this to McCoy.
It was a well known fact that Kirk hated physicals and a well known rumor that he had to be lured into sickbay with the promise of Saurian brandy and then ambushed with a series of medical tests.
So, naturally it didn't occur to anyone that Kirk thought about his personal physician taking advantage of his current position. Which would be quite easy as Kirk was lying on an examining table, completely helpless. He'd be even more completely helpless if there were some restraints to keep him from getting away when Dr. McCoy undressed him for a more invasive exam.
"Jim, I have never seen such a severe case of White Coat Syndrome," said Bones. "Nobody here's even got a white coat."
"What's that, Bones?" Kirk had been thinking about struggling against his restraints while his physician gave him a very careful, very thorough prostate exam.
"Your pulse." Bones gently touched his shoulder. "Relax, Jim."
Kirk did not suggest that being strapped to the table, having a few key regions roughly palpitated, and then being fucked by his chief medical officer would help him calm down. For one thing, Bones would point out that it sure as hell wasn't going to lower anybody's heart rate. And that would probably be the kindest thing Bones said to him if Kirk suggested that he be thoroughly groped and fucked during a routine medical examination. He might get a few things palpitated and digitally examined, but he was afraid it'd be all medical and no kink.
Fortunately Kirk tended to think about his doctor providing some unorthodox treatment during practically every physical, so Kirk's elevated heart rate wasn't anything alarming.
"It's all right, Jim," said Bones.
The table could probably support both of them. It'd be quite easy for McCoy to straddle his patient, pull his own cock out, and tell Kirk to open up and say "Ahhh."
"Just close your eyes and take a deep breath."
Kirk closed his eyes and waited to be taken advantage of. He'd object if his doctor started fondling him, but of course there'd be nothing he could do about it.
McCoy rubbed his arm in a way that could still be considered entirely professional. "Nice deep breaths."
"Nice deep breasts?"
McCoy poked him--in the arm with his finger, sadly. "Quit."
Kirk could've stood for more poking and prodding, especially if he was unceremoniously stripped first. Modern medical equipment was really unfortunate since he could be scanned fully clothed (although a medical tricorder was about the right size and shape to be inserted into him).
McCoy did not tell him, but Kirk assumed he'd scored too high on resting heart rate to meet duty requirements. Some Starfleet doctors would've immediately taken him off the duty roster and begun even more tests; McCoy gave everybody a few mulligans--especially if routine physicals made them agitated--and either gave them a few minutes alone or tried to talk them down himself. Kirk decided he owed it to him to be a good patient and stop thinking about how much he'd enjoy having a very bad doctor.
"Everything looks good," Bones said. It was a damned shame he wasn't referring to Kirk's teased dick or his spread legs or his stretched, come filled ass. "Just need that endurance test."
"Bones--"
"Jim, I don't care if you've got a note from God Almighty. It took me weeks to drag you in here, and you're not leaving until you've given me what I need."
"Yes, Doctor."
Bones rolled his eyes and did not tell Kirk that what he really needed was to fuck that smart mouth of his.
Kirk liked to pretend that he was required to take his shirt off for this particular test. It helped that Bones had given up on telling him it wasn't actually necessary. And it really helped that every so often he'd see Bones sneaking a non-diagnostic glance at him. Well, Kirk liked to think they were non-diagnostic.
"See something you like?" Kirk asked. He was in an interesting position if any horny doctors decided that the only possible treatment was for him to get a good, degrading fuck right out in the middle of sickbay (It might not actually be a feasible position, but it was very interesting).
"Yes," Bones said as he held out Kirk's shirt. "A stubborn patient who I'm not going to have to bribe, plead, or threaten to get him to come in for a physical for another six months."
Kirk didn't suggest a few things that would make him a much more enthusiastic patient.