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The crew was becoming rebellious, and that was a problem. Perhaps they were beginning to realize that Captain Kirk did not really have it in him to hurt. It was always Spock who took care of that, took care of her Captain. But the Captain should not be taken care of, at least not as far as the crew was concerned. The problem had to be solved, and there was only one solution.

It was logical.

“Spock, analysis.”

She waited, deliberately.

Her Captain turned in his chair to face her. “I gave you an order, Miss Spock.”

“Yes, Captain.” Although her voice was predictably devoid of emotion, she allowed a hint of conceit to lace her tone. “Scanners indicate no life on the planet.”

Her Captain got up from his chair and stalked towards her. “Why did you hesitate?”

Spock simply raised her eyebrows and crossed her legs.

Her Captain grabbed her by the arms and lifted her out of her chair to face him. She felt his cold stare penetrate her many layers of Vulcan restraint.

Spock suppressed the illogical desire to melt into his form; let the iron grip possess her. She didn’t want this; she couldn’t. It was a logical solution to a problem, nothing more. She stood rigidly, schooling her features and her posture, giving away nothing.

“When I issue an order, I expect it to be obeyed immediately, Mister!” It was a whisper, but loud enough for the entire bridge to hear. “Am I understood?”

She didn’t comply. Her Captain would have to force her. “Captain, I see no reason-”

Then he struck her.

Although he didn’t hold back, his strength as a Human was no match for hers as a half-Vulcan. Still, she threw herself to the floor as though it was. He had to dominate, to force, to regain control.

Her Captain smiled sadistically at the shocked bridge crew as Spock slowly stood and composed herself. “What’s the matter? Didn’t think I had the muscle? There’s a reason they made me Captain at such a young age. You’ll all do well to remember it.” He looked back at Spock with that icy stare. “Or will I have to break her?”

She defiantly raised an eyebrow. “A Vulcan cannot be broken. Least of all by a Human.”

He backhanded her again and she began to tumble, but he caught her and threw her back against the science station. She relaxed her body and offered no resistance. She felt her heart beat faster than normal in the side of her chest, knew that he felt it too as he pinned her down. She embraced the yearning to have his power inside of her.

But she didn’t want this. It was logical. A solution to a problem.

She arranged her features to show the smallest hint of fear, and her Captain laughed in her face. “Look at her. The computerized Vulcan is afraid.” He caressed the cheek he had hit earlier in mock tenderness – or was that genuine? – and then kissed her delicately.

Spock broke the kiss and feebly pressed against her Captain’s chest. “Captain, I-”

He took her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand. “You will know what real fear is before long, my Vulcan friend.” Then he let his other hand trail softly down her neck and let it rest on her breast, the heat of his palm seeping through her uniform.

She struggled; or made a show of struggling. This was not something she wanted. It was a logical solution to the problem. She tried not to arch into his touch. “Captain, please-” she whimpered. This part was not an act, she was genuinely begging. But the crew would never know what she was begging for. Not a protest, but rather please remove the layers of clothing that separate our bodies. Only her Captain would know the true nature of her emotions, only ever Jim. She was his, and everything that she did was for him.

He complied, forcefully tearing the blue crop-top. Some part of her logical mind momentarily wondered at the sense of such flimsy uniforms, but it ceased to matter once her Captain took her nipple into his mouth. She forced herself to pull away, to struggle, to let the crew believe that he was taking her against her will.

“I am a Vulcan.” She spat. “You cannot make me feel.” But he could. And he did. And she let him. She felt his tongue glide over her sensitive nipple, licking and stroking, coaxing it into a hard nub. It was almost too much; almost, and yet paradoxically not nearly enough. She felt her core responding, pulsating between her thighs. She ached to open up to him, but she couldn’t. She had to wait for him to pry her apart.

He pulled his mouth away from her nipple and her nerves screamed as the cold air hit the area his mouth had left. As he traced kisses up the curve of her breast and up to her neck, he muttered “I can do whatever I want. I’m the Captain.” He straightened slowly to address the crew, and as he did so he separated her legs with his free hand and pressed his hardness against her, his other hand still holding her wrists above her head. “See the green tinge of the Vulcan’s blush. I’ve done that to her. How many men have you seen reduce a Vulcan, or even half-Vulcan, to this? Uhura,” he turned to the communications officer, who’s eyes grew wide with fear. “Open a shipwide channel, I want the whole crew to see my conquest.”

Spock watched her for the slightest hint of hesitation, of defiance, but she showed none. It was just as well; as close as they were, Spock would not hesitate to kill Uhura for the sake of her Captain. “Aye, sir.” Still, Spock had to give the young woman credit – she didn’t stammer or tremble before such a display of force.

Spock’s Captain grinned and looked back to her. “You see, even your musical protégé won’t help you.” He looked her up and down possessively. “You’re all mine, and no one can stop me.”

All eyes fell back upon Spock, the horror evident in each pair, but they saw nothing. They could look upon her for days – years - and still never see her. Though she was quite literally half naked before the entire ship, she was clothed in her act of Vulcan self-discipline. She was exposed only to Jim, because only he could see her wanting. She and her Captain were alone in the space they had created for their truth; the rest of them were out there, with the act.

Her Captain untied his gold sash and pulled his pants halfway down his thighs with his free hand, turning slightly and allowing the crew to see his half-hard manhood. His eyes remained on Spock. “I’ll touch you any way it pleases me until I’m hard enough to fuck you, and then I’ll do that too. You will learn the cost of disobedience, First Officer.” She swallowed as he turned back to her and palmed her naked breast, running the pad of his thumb around her nipple, but not touching; teasing her. She made a small noise and closed her eyes with a frown. She truly didn’t want this, it was only logical. She needed more, needed his touch, but she had to wait. Her Captain had to take control, to set the pace, and she had to let him.

Spock felt her Captain’s thumb finally reach her nipple, and her eyes shot open as long awaited pleasure ran through her. She met his eyes and saw the ice had melted into the heat of desire. She knew it was a look meant only for her, and a risky one at that. The crew could not be permitted to see such naked desire, only the power and need to dominate. He held her gaze as he bent his head down, replacing his thumb with his tongue once again as he moved his hand down her hip, stroking her thigh, lifting it.

Any other Captain would simply take her. Any other Captain would fail. Any other Captain would never dare try. But her Captain, who would sooner die than take anyone, could have all that he wanted of her and more. Her Captain could even deny her, leave her desperate with desire she would never dare admit to feeling, and she would let him. She would expose her true self to no one else, submit to no one else. But James T. Kirk made her want to feel weak and strong at the same time, and above all else, made her want to feel.

And he did so now, licking at her hardened nipple and sliding his hand under her skirt, bringing it to rest on her hip. She wanted so badly to feel his fingers between her legs, wanted to feel his hardness slip inside her. “Captain-” she whimpered. The crew would believe it was out of the humiliation of being claimed, the fear of being brutally run through by a heartless tyrant. She trusted Jim to know the truth.

He tore her blue panties away with one swift move and she allowed herself a gasp. But he still didn’t touch her where she burned to be touched. “My Vulcan pet…” he said between licking and sucking her nipple, his breath caressing her flesh. “Tell them who you belong to.” She remained silent. He would have to force the confession from her lips. “Tell them!” he demanded. He moved his hand down her thigh to her knee, and positioned it to rest on the console, spreading her apart and exposing her to him. He moved his hand slowly along her inner thigh, torturously slowly. At that moment, Spock wanted nothing more than to take Jim, use her Vulcan strength to fuck herself on his now fully erect cock. But she didn’t. Calling upon the ancient Vulcan techniques of self-control, she kept herself still, and let him take his time. Her Captain had to have control. It had to be up to him, not her. She shuddered as his fingers danced around her opening without entering. He was gauging her wetness, her readiness, she realized. “You know it’s the truth,” he continued as he took her wetness in his finger and slid it up to her clitoris, sliding it over, giving her the touch she needed. She swallowed a moan. “I’m the only Human in the universe with enough strength to dominate a Vulcan.” He said as he stroked her. “I have the power to own everyone on the ship, even you. Tell them! Tell them I own you.” She caught her lip in her mouth as her Vulcan discipline began to elude her. Through the sensations he was delivering to her, she would tell him anything, anything he wanted to hear. But she couldn’t, not yet. He needed a reason to claim her fully. “Will you make me show them?!” Yes! “Will I have to show this crew who is in command?” Oh God, yes! She felt the tip of his cock at her entrance. “You all believe I won’t do it.”

She cried out as he entered her slowly, oh God too slowly. The sensation of her Captain burying himself deep within her felt like it was enough to bring about a madness reminiscent of pon-farr, and perhaps it did. As she felt the burning desire within her, she grasped onto the last lingering threads of control. This couldn’t be her choice. She couldn’t buck herself against him in the frenzied attempt to gain more contact, more friction. Somehow she found the will to remain still, and let her Captain claim her. And he did, once he was fully enveloped, he pulled out and thrust back in, settling into his own rhythm.

“Say it!” He ordered. He thrust into her harder and she welcomed him in. “Tell them who owns you! Tell them who you must submit to!” She clenched her teeth but remained otherwise passive. She couldn’t say it, not yet. She had to let him finish. “I have the strength. I have the power. I’ve got command! I’m Captain James T. Fucking Kirk, and you should be grateful to have me inside you, Science Officer.” And she was. She privately delighted in her Captain’s magnificent ego pounding into her, while feigning the slightest discomfort and pain. “This could be your duty from now on, fucking the Captain when he needs it. You’ll do well to obey your orders in future, my friend.” He was panting as he spoke, and she saw the sweat glistening on his forehead, his cheeks flushing that alien dark-pink from the effort of thrusting. She was close to orgasm now, but it didn’t matter. He was in control, and she had to let him finish when he was ready. But she knew he would make sure she came. He always did. It was what he wanted, so she let him.

As she felt the last lingering threads of control leave her, she opened her mouth and allowed the words to fall from her lips. “You are my commanding officer, and I am yours, completely. You have the strength, the power, to command me, and everyone on the ship. I belong to you, and I accept my duty to obey your every order, without question. Please… please…” White heat shot through her as she spoke, and as she clenched herself around him, she felt him letting go as well with a deep, primal grunt. It was the last thing she remembered as she surrendered to her own orgasm.

The next thing she knew, she was trembling in the afterglow. Jim took a moment to rest his head on her shoulder, panting heavily and shaking a little himself, but they both know it couldn’t last. He pulled himself away. “Good,” he panted, “see that you remember that.” Jim pulled his pants up and straightened out his uniform, picking up his sash from where it lay discarded on the floor and retying it around his waist. He wiped his damp fringe from his forehead with the back of his hand and faced the bridge crew, while Spock got up slowly from the console, making sure to act admonished. She covered her breasts with her arms as though she cared who saw them. They were private to Humans, but not to Vulcans. Her emotions – her desires and her fears and her hopes – were kept securely guarded from all but Jim, and he knew that. “Hands at your sides, Mister.” She obeyed without hesitation, keeping her eyes downcast. Jim’s eyes surveyed the room for any remaining hint of insubordination, and Spock subtly did the same. There was none, but he had to be sure. “Checkov, think I won’t do the same to you because you’re a man?”

“N-no, sir.”

Jim narrowed his eyes and approached the Ensign. Checkov began trembling, his breathing rate quickening to twice its speed. Jim then turned to the rest of his crew to reveal a satisfied smile. “You’ll find I’m a reasonable Captain. Obey my orders, and you’ll have no reason to fear me.” He pointedly returned to Spock, his face stopping mere centimetres from hers. “But step out of line, and you’ll soon discover what a hard man I can be.” She quivered as his hot breath made her neck tingle, but she passed it off as a nervous shudder. “Mr Checkov, lay in a course for Deneb III.”

“A-aye, Sir” he said and quickly punched in the coordinates.

“Good man.” Jim said approvingly. “Now take over from Spock. First Officer, you’re dismissed. I’ll see you in my quarters after my shift.”

Under other circumstances, she would have protested. She had no need for rest and was quite capable of finishing her shift. But she had to show her submission to the crew so that Jim could re-instigate command. “Aye, Captain.” She said immediately and made for the turbolift, head bowed.

~.~.~.~.~

Kirk held his head high as he strutted down the corridor. He found that his crew now looked upon him with a new-found respect. When had he lost it? Probably when he began letting his First Officer weigh in on his decisions and get away with insubordination. It didn’t matter, he had it back now. When he stopped at his door, he saw an Ensign look at him. The man bore an expression of utmost respect, but no fear, and he was smiling. The other crew members he’d encountered since publically punishing Spock had simply averted their gaze, no doubt worried that the same fate might befall them. This man, however, seemed to look at him with admiration. It made him uneasy that someone could look at what he did to Spock as something to be admired, but he used it to his advantage. He flashed the man an expression that said, Yeah, I tapped that. And now I’m going back for more, just let her try and stop me. He pressed the button to open the door, and entered confidently, letting it close behind him and leaving that darkness outside.

He found Spock lying peacefully on his bed in a Vulcan robe, meditating. Kirk imagined that she probably wore nothing underneath. He stood by the divider, waiting for some signal that he had permission to enter. She opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression open, so he went to sit beside her. He reached out to touch her cheek, surprised to find no evidence of the blow he had delivered just hours earlier.

“It does not hurt.” She assured him.

He nodded. “What about-?” He stopped himself, unsure if he wanted to even ask, but he had to know she was ok in… all other parts of her body.

“You underestimate my fortitude, Jim. I am not a woman; I am a Vulcan.”

“You’re half Human.” He gently reminded her.

“True…” She untwined her hands and sat up. “In any case, I experienced no pain.”

He nodded again, wanting to believe her. But he had been so… brutal. What he had done, even the things he had said. She couldn’t be completely undamaged by what had happened.

“You are not certain.” She observed. He looked into her eyes, which showed the trust she had in him that still remained intact. He knew she wasn’t lying, but… She lifted her hand to his face, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head. He closed his eyes and opened his mind to the meld, content to let her give or take whatever she intended. She gave; shared her experiences of the last few hours. She had been truthful, there was no pain, not even shame or bruised ego. In fact, he was surprised to learn that she had enjoyed the whole thing, though even in the mind meld she would never fully admit it. “I have no ego to bruise, Jim.” She told him frankly as she broke the meld, but he could see the slight pout in her eyes. He chuckled. His thoughts must have passed onto her. “And as for enjoying the experience, that would be highly illogical.”

“Of course, Spock. It was a solution to a problem, nothing more.”

“Indeed. And a perfectly logical one at that.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, “your plan worked, most of them are terrified of me. None of them will defy or disrespect me again.”

“You must tell them tomorrow that I am to be kept in your quarters as your personal plaything for the next several days.”

“You’re worried the crew might take liberties with you after seeing what I did?” Kirk’s heart leapt in his chest. It hadn’t occurred to him until now. The crew used to be as scared of her and her Vulcan strength as they were supposed to be of him, but now… He would kill to protect her, of course; it was the only thing he would kill for. But could he protect her every hour of the day? Could he defend her against everyone? What if his bluff was called…?

“Jim…” Spock raised an eyebrow in gentle humour. “I am easily as strong as ten Humans. No one could take me, they still know that. In their eyes, you only succeeded because you must somehow possess the strength of eleven or more men. But they cannot be allowed to see me. They must be left to wonder. The Human imagination is prone to inaccuracy; they will imagine far more violence and brutality than what happened today. They will conjure up horrific bruises and welts-”

“Spock!” He interrupted, lifting a hand to silence her, his own mind already conjuring up such images against his will.

“Word will eventually spread to Vulcan, and even they will fear you.”

“You’re ok with other Vulcans thinking that I dominated you?”

“By then they will likely think it some other Vulcan. Word is inevitably changed the farther it is spread, and I will have reintegrated myself as your right hand.”

“I don’t know if I want all of Vulcan to fear me. I have no grand ambitions beyond captaining a Starship, you know that. This is where I belong.”

“And my only ambition is to be by your side, where I belong. Those of my world will accept my place by the side of a Human if he is so respected and feared.”

Kirk grinned. So that was her plan. “They’ll accept a Human as your t’hy’la?”

Spock’s eyes smiled back at him. “That is my hope.”

He took her hand in his and lightly kissed her two fingers, a compromise between Vulcan and Human tradition. It was a huge bluff, but he would bluff the whole galaxy to keep Spock. And he knew he would have the confidence to do anything, so long as Spock was at his side.
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