Captain James T. Kirk of the ISS Enterprise woke abruptly, knowing even through a disoriented haze that something was wrong. He blinked, trying to bring himself into focus, muscles tensed as he readied himself to fight. But there was nothing to fight. He was alone, on his knees, in an unfamiliar room. The lights were dim, but Kirk strained his eyes to look around, trying to piece together where he was and what had happened to him. He quickly realized that he was naked, kneeling on some kind of mat or padding. His arms were slightly raised and manacled out to his sides, not uncomfortably, but—he tried the bonds; they were solid—quite effectively. The chains were attached to a light but solid framework arching over his head and that appeared to be bolted to the floor on either side of the mat. Because of the angle, he could not get his legs under his body and rise. He was helpless, exposed, and unable to move except for the slightest, most futile of struggles.
Kirk thought furiously. What had happened? He remembered walking into his cabin, planning to get a bite to eat and then going down to the ship’s brothel near Main Rec to pick out a bitch for the night. They had some new Orion captives, and Kirk was looking forward to sinking his cock into a green pussy and listening to the bitch scream. The last thing he remembered was a hot hand suddenly settling in at the juncture of his neck and shoulder…
Kirk’s thoughts stopped abruptly as he turned his head, feeling the bruise on his neck. Now he could just make out a hint of Vulcan incense, and he realized that the room was warmer than the rest of the ship. A cold fury swept through him, and he threw himself against his chains, yanking furiously at his bonds, straining his wrists and shoulders against the cold metal.
“Spock!” he yelled. “Where are you, you bastard? You won’t get away with this! I’ll cut off your fucking ears, you cocksucker! Show yourself! Spock!”
“Lights 40%.” A well-known baritone spoke from the corner, and the lights brightened. Kirk could now see that he was in Spock’s quarters, chained on the floor in the Vulcan’s bedroom. Spock rose from the chair in the corner where he had been sitting observing his prize, the dim lights no challenge to him. He walked across the room and stood in front of the bound and naked Kirk. He sank to the floor, looking into Kirk’s furious eyes.
“You may cease your yelling and imprecations, James,” he said calmly. “Your curses have no emotional effect on me, and I can assure you, my quarters are quite soundproof.”
“Where the fuck are my guards?” Kirk yelled.
Spock raised one eyebrow. “Your guards were surprised and delighted to receive a message from you giving them the evening off, as well as a pass to the ship’s bordello. They are all, no doubt, fucking everything they can find even as we speak.” He shook his head in mock dismay. “I have told you before that you need more intelligent, more alert guards.” His head jerked towards the door. “I can assure you, mine would not fall for such a simple ruse. They will guard us efficiently and ensure we are not disturbed, no matter how long we are—together.”
“Fuck you!” Kirk snarled. He recoiled when his cool, calm First Officer actually smiled at him, his even teeth glinting briefly from between the bearded lips.
“Yes, James,” the Vulcan purred. “Exactly. How astute of you to deduce why you are here. You will fuck me, and I will fuck you, until we are both replete, until my hunger for you is finally sated.”
Kirk’s heart froze within him. He had known, of course, that Spock wanted him. The Vulcan, like all his race, was a satyr, almost insatiable, despite his cool exterior. Vulcan males had the deserved reputation of being the hottest, wildest fucks in the galaxy, as happy with a hot ass as a juicy pussy. Spock had made advances towards him before and been turned down flat. He was James T. Kirk. He didn’t fuck men, and he certainly didn’t get fucked.
“Touch me, you cocksucker, and I’ll cut your balls off,” he hissed. “I’ll make you into the galaxy’s first Vulcan eunuch. I’ll…” his voice was cut off by a hard mouth and hot tongue, as Spock reached forward and kissed him savagely, sucking Kirk’s lower lip into his mouth, plunging his tongue into Kirk’s mouth and stroking it over the human’s tongue, surprising a moan from Kirk as he felt the hot flash of desire run through him.
Spock pulled away and got to his feet. “I anticipated some resistance,” he noted evenly, “so I intend to avail myself of certain Vulcan—aids—that will persuade you to be more receptive.” He stopped by his dresser and retrieved a large flask and a small box. He casually shrugged off the silk robe he was wearing, allowing it to fall to the floor. Kirk gasped; the Vulcan was already aroused, his magnificent jade cock almost fully erect, the characteristic double ridges pulsing slightly with the beat of his blood through the organ. Kirk swallowed hard. He had never seen Spock hard before. Kirk wasn’t ashamed of his own endowments, but the Vulcan’s cock made his look like a ten-year-old boy’s. Kirk shook his head angrily. What the fuck was he thinking? He yanked on the manacles again.
“You won’t get away with this, you bastard. Rape may not be a crime in the empire, but raping your superior officer is. I’ll watch the torturers break you, and I’ll laugh while they do!” he threatened.
Spock stepped around Kirk and knelt down behind him. “I can promise you, it will not be rape. When the officials probe your mind for the truth of your accusations, they will see that you begged me to fuck you, because you will. Moreover, I doubt that you will want to, shall we say, let them 'watch' what is about to happen here.” He opened the flask he had brought back from the dresser and coated his hands with a layer of the oil it contained. He reached his arms around the human and began to work the oil into Kirk’s flesh, ignoring the human’s struggles.
“There is a reason why Vulcans are the most famous lovers in the galaxy,” Spock informed him, his voice in full scientific lecture mode. His hot, clever hands smoothed the oil across Kirk’s pecs, lingering long enough for his nimble fingers to rub and pluck at Kirk’s nipples, teasing them to hard points with just a few tweaks. “We have created and perfected every type of aid for sexual arousal and satisfaction.” He paused, adding more oil to his hands and then stroking them down across Kirk’s stomach, letting one finger circle and tease his navel. The oil had a faintly spicy scent. “This oil is called banhgank,” Spock noted. “It may be utilized either externally or internally. You will experience it both ways before this night is over.” Kirk squirmed beneath Spock’s hands, trying to evade his touch. He could feel everywhere the Vulcan’s hands had been; the oil left a trail of heat on his skin. He could almost feel his skin throbbing beneath the coating of oil.
“You no doubt feel a slight burning sensation; it is no cause for alarm. The burn will settle into a heat that will linger for hours,” Spock told him, reaching for the flask again. “Banhgank is not exactly an aphrodisiac, as humans understand the term. It enhances sensations; it does not create them. It also aids—stamina. Like most humans, you probably ejaculate only twice or three times during a sexual experience. The banhgank will help you more than double that achievement, especially once I have anointed your prostate with it.”
“I don’t care what kind of drug you dose me with; I won’t….aahhhh!” Kirk broke off as two sets of oiled fingers wrapped around his cock, efficiently massaging the oil into his organ and spreading it down onto his balls. His cock hardened instantly in Spock’s burning grip, throbbing as fiercely as if he’d spent an hour in foreplay. Kirk threw back his head and panted, caught up in the exquisite burn washing over him.
“Now, for the next Vulcan innovation,” Spock voice spoke over his shoulder. The Vulcan rose again and circled around Kirk, obviously satisfied by what he saw. Kirk hung in his chains, twisting from side to side, his body glistening in the soft light, his cock, the head an angry red, thrust into the air. Kirk tried to focus, tried to fight the sensations, but they were too strong. He could only kneel on the floor, unable to fight, unable to even touch his aching flesh.
“I am pleased that your nipples are so sensitive.” Spock glanced at the hard, rosy peaks decorating Kirk’s chest. “That will make this refinement all the more effective.” He reached down for the box he had placed on the floor and opened it. Kirk watched him with wary, fascinated eyes.
“Vulcans didn’t invent nipple clamps,” he tried to scoff.
“No. But these are much better.” Spock drew from the box something that looked like a Terran snail, complete with shell. “These are called k’sungas, or sometimes just the Vulcan sucker.” Spock took the creature and moved it to Kirk’s left nipple, gently stroking the flesh so it swelled even more. Kirk moaned slightly, feeling the nub respond.
“What…are you going to….ahhhh!” Kirk gasped as Spock place the sucker against his flesh.
“Oh, oh gods, I can feel it…the mouth…so hot…so wet….ohhh!”
“Yes,” Spock said, pleased. “The k’sungas are bred to stimulate the nipples of the humanoid male or female.” He took the second one out of the box and attached it as well. “The more your nipples swell, the more they will suck and lick, and the more your flesh will respond. It is a very effective cycle.”
Kirk hung his head, shuddering as the tiny creatures set about their task, tormenting his nipples with a series of suckling and nipping motions, sending spikes of pure arousal to his cock. “I….I can’t stand it…” he moaned, twisting again in his chains as the oil and the suckers continued to work on his flesh. “Please, please…”
“Oh, you will stand a great deal more, “Spock said quietly, once again moving around behind Kirk. The human heard the sound of oil gurgling from the flask in Spock’s hands, and he shivered, knowing what was coming even as Spock’s strong hands parted his thighs. He tried to push back, tried to clench his ass, but Vulcan strength would not be denied, nor would Vulcan desire. Kirk hissed as first one and then another hot finger, soaked in the arousal oil, slid into his hole and began to stroke their way along his passage. As Spock had promised, his fingers unerringly found Kirk’s prostate, bathing the nodule with the oil, instantly causing it to swell and send a flood of aching arousal through Kirk’s body.
It was too much. His cock still engorged by Spock’s fingering and the oil smeared on it, the suckers still feasting on his nipples, his ass now on fire with the pain/pleasure of the oiled fingers moving inside him. Kirk whimpered, bearing down on the fingers, trying to get them to provide enough heat, enough friction, for him to come. He tried to squeeze his shaft between his thigh muscles, tried to stimulate himself enough for climax, but those punishing Vulcan hands kept him spread wide, left him unable to touch his cock in any way. His hips were rocking; he found himself fucking the air as he wailed softly, but there was no relief. No relief unless Spock gave it. No release unless Spock allowed it. No release unless Spock heard him beg.
Kirk’s iron will crumbled beneath Spock’s sensual onslaught. Kirk gave in. “Please, please, Spock,” he moaned softly. “Please let me cum. Please…..I…need to cum. It hurts…it hurts so much. Oh gods, I’m on fire…” His voice trailed off as he felt Spock rise and come to face him again. He forced himself to look up at the Vulcan standing over him. He moaned helplessly as Spock stroked his fist over his own erection, slicking it with yet more of the oil that was driving Kirk to a frenzy.
“Suck me.” Spock stood before him, obscenely stroking the huge, dripping shaft, the twin ridges flaring to the movement of his hand, his hips rocking slightly as he savored his self-stimulation. “Suck me, and I will let you come.” He moved forward, bringing his cock within reach of Kirk’s hungry maw.
“Oh, yes, please yes, ohhhh.” Kirk moaned, his lust consuming him, burning his pride and anger away. Nothing mattered anymore except pleasing this being who controlled him, earning the orgasm his captor promised him. Kirk licked his lips, opening his mouth and pushing forward as the crown of Spock’s erect cock slipped between his lips. Instantly, Kirk tasted the oil, a rich spicy flavor that burned on his tongue. The taste was mixed with Spock’s own lush musk, the creamy pre-cum dripping onto Kirk’s tongue as he swirled it around the head of the cock. Kirk had never sucked a cock before, and now he could not imagine why not. The heat of Spock’s organ, the heavy, throbbing weight on his tongue, the aroma and taste of the Vulcan’s arousal filling his senses—it was exquisite. It was decadent. It was nirvana.
Spock groaned as he felt the cool mouth and inexperienced but talented tongue working his organ. Cautiously, giving Kirk time to adjust, he pushed more of his bulk into the human’s willing mouth, gently rocking his hips and allowing his cock to slide in and out, a bit further each time as his cock swelled even more in the moist embrace of Kirk’s orifice.
Kirk’s mouth was full now, his cheeks bloated with the full hardness of the Vulcan’s cock, but he didn’t care. He kept sucking and tonguing Spock, lost in the feel of pleasuring this magnificent organ. Kirk’s own cock was on fire with need, aching so badly he thought he might die from the heat and pressure, but all he could think of was making Spock come, of feeling that incredible hardness explode within him. He sucked harder, wishing that he could take the cock deep into his throat and swallow it whole. Spock must have picked up on his desire, because the Vulcan, groaning softly, reached forward and laid his long fingers against Kirk’s throat. Suddenly, there was no resistance; with a muffled cry of ecstasy, Kirk felt the Vulcan’s cock slide all the way down into his throat and back, then down again. Spock reached out and threaded his hands into Kirk’s hair, massaging the skull, sending shivers of pleasure throughout Kirk even as he fucked the human’s mouth, and Kirk hung on for the ride, his tongue working, his throat muscles rippling around the fiery shaft.
Spock threw back his head and came with a keening cry that echoed against the walls. Kirk moaned as his mouth and throat were flooded with the hot torrent of Spock’s cum. He sucked and lapped at the fountain like a starving man, wondering dimly if Vulcan cum was also an aphrodisiac, because he felt the sweet burn all the way to his own balls. Suddenly, without even a touch, Kirk was coming as well, balls contracting deliciously and his spunk shooting into the air as he groaned around Spock’s slowly softening organ.
Spock slowly withdrew, leaving the human hanging in his chains, panting slightly, his cock still spurting as an aftershock rolled through him. “Most gratifying, James.” He passed his hand over the human’s head in a fond caress. “While you may be inexperienced, your mouth is most inviting, and your tongue is delightfully agile.”
Kirk shivered at Spock’s touch, knowing that he was still aroused, still under the Vulcan’s sexual spell. “Please,” he whispered. “You got what you wanted. Let me go now, and we will forget this ever happened.” Even as he said it, Kirk knew it was a lie. This room, these feelings, would never be forgotten. A thousand Orion slave girls would never equal what Kirk had just experienced with the Vulcan’s cock riding his mouth.
Spock dropped to his knees again, facing Kirk. He slipped his arms around the human’s torso, loving the slick feel of the sweaty, glossy skin against his drier, desert-born hide. His hands rested for a moment at the base of Kirk’s spine, and then one hand moved lower, the fingers delving between Kirk’s cheeks and easily reaching that hungry, quivering entrance that had been teased and aroused but not satisfied, not filled. Kirk stifled a moan as he once again felt those clever digits slide into him, brushing against his prostate and igniting a flame again. He unconsciously widened his stance, shifting on his knees until his thighs were open, allowing Spock’s fingers to move even deeper into him. He shuddered, his head dropping weakly onto Spock’s shoulder. He longed to simply let himself go, let himself be taken and driven to madness, but he couldn’t. He was James T. Kirk. He was nobody’s bitch. But that seemed to matter less as Spock’s fingers continued their dance inside him.
“We are not finished, you and I,” Spock whispered into the rounded ear. “I have not had my fill of you, and you must be filled with me before we are done here. You will yield to me, James, and I will give you release such as you have never known. I will claim you and ruin you for all others. You will spread yourself for me and beg me to take you, and so it will be.” He felt Kirk trembling against him, torn between pride, fear, and hopeless, unstoppable arousal.
“Please,” Kirk whispered. “Please. I’ve…I’ve sucked you. I’ll do it again if you wish. But please. Not the other. Not that.”
“Oh, yes, my timid human,” Spock replied softly. “I would be a poor host if I invited you to a banquet and did not offer the whole menu.” He sighed theatrically. “But if you need persuasion, that can be arranged.” He rose to his feet and walked, magnificent in his nakedness, to the storage unit against the wall. He opened the drawer and removing a soft, velvet bag, he came back and once again knelt on the floor next to his chained captive.
Spock opened the bag and pulled out an object about ten inches long and quite thick. Kirk caught his breath as his eyes took it in. It was a dildo, molded from some type of shiny black material, studded with what looked like small spikes or thorns.
Spock leaned over and began to lick and nip at Kirk’s ear. “This is a Klingon invention,” he murmured, his hot breath against the human’s neck sending another shudder through Kirk’s body. “. The spikes are flexible and only a half-inch long, rather than the more—extreme features on some other models. The one I took it from told me they call it ‘the trainer,’ to be used on new captives and slaves, to prepare them for their master’s cock. I intend to prepare you, my human. I intend to train you as you should be trained.” He pulled back and reaching for the flask of oil, began to anoint the dildo until it was shiny and dripping with the mixture. He then leaned over Kirk again and placed the toy against Kirk’s lips. The human stubbornly kept them closed, but Spock simply rubbed the dildo back and forth, letting the oil seep into the seam of Kirk’s closed mouth. Almost involuntarily, Kirk’s tongue shot out and caught the drips of oil that were trailing across his lips. As he did so, Spock angled the rod, pushing the first inch into Kirk’s mouth. His other hand slid down Kirk’s back to rest on his ass, the fingers beginning to stroke between the cheeks, easily finding their way despite’s Kirk’s attempts to squirm.
Slowly, slowly, Spock slid the dildo in and out of Kirk’s mouth, at first only an inch or so, gradually thrusting it further into the moist orifice, withdrawing it, and moving it back again, until he was fucking Kirk’s mouth with much of the hard shaft. Kirk moaned softly as the tiny, flexible spikes scraped over his tongue and palate, his mouth filling with saliva at the taste of the spicy oil in which the toy had been drenched, his throat muscles working as he swallowed the intoxicating fluid. He felt the flash of heat as the Vulcan arousal formula once more worked its way into his bloodstream. His cock began to rise and fill yet again, so sensitive that the room’s barely moving air currents were enough to bring him back to full, pulsating hardness. He found himself compulsively sucking the object in his mouth, gasping around it as the fingers of Spock’s right hand teased his hot, aching ass, pressing inward, slowly sliding around the tight ring of muscle in concert with the other hand moving the dildo, the burning, oiled fingers slipping an inch or two into his hole for just an instant, but then retreating, always retreating, leaving Kirk writhing with agonized hunger, his opening throbbing as it desperately tried to hold onto the Vulcan fingers that tormented him. He tried to push back into the impaling hardness he craved, but Spock simply moved his fingers away, leaving Kirk empty, so empty.
Kirk pulled his mouth away from the dildo, panting. Spock stopped his movements for just an instant, waiting.
“Please…please,” Kirk moaned, his face flushed and moist with humiliation and arousal, tears of sexual agony rolling down his cheeks, his voice so low he could scarcely be heard, but Spock heard every word. “Please…train me. Train me…master.”
“Yes,” Spock hissed. “Yes.” He laid the toy aside and hit a hidden button under the edge of the padded mat, and Kirk’s manacles unlocked and fell away. The human collapsed forward, shuddering as he felt Spock’s hot, pitiless hands on his flanks, urging him up onto his hands and knees. He braced himself, trembling, waiting, begging as he heard the sound of more oil being poured on the spiked Klingon dildo.
“Please, oh please, fuck me fuck me fuck….ahhhh!” Kirk threw back his head and wailed as he felt the dildo being eased into his passage. He could feel the toy sliding moistly into his depths, spreading him, filling him, giving him what he craved. He panted as Spock pushed it deeper, ever deeper into him. Kirk spread his legs further apart, craving every inch of the wonderful rod that was torturing him. Finally, it was buried within him as deep as it could go. Spock paused for a moment, and then Kirk felt the Vulcan’s lips on the small of his back, the bearded mouth moving against that patch of sensitive skin as his master crouched over him.
“You can endure this now,” Spock whispered. “The spikes are folded flat on the shaft, lying quiet within you. But if I….move it….”
Ohhhh! Ohhh gods, no!” Kirk screamed as he felt Spock start to pull the shaft back. Each flexible spike instantly sprang to life, rubbing every inch of his inflamed channel, catching like tiny thorns against his prostate, providing a potent mixture of pain and pleasure that quickly drove Kirk into a sexual frenzy. Spock shoved the rod in again, then withdrew it out almost to the edge, then back in, again and again, pounding Kirk’s ass as hard and fast as he could. Kirk could only brace himself, writhing, shuddering, thrusting, begging.
“Oh gods, harder, harder! Fuck me, maim me, make me cum, make me cuummm!” His master obliged. Kirk’s cock erupted again and again as Spock punished and rewarded him, the Vulcan’s huge shaft, rubbing against Kirk’s hip in time with his movements, also reaching its climax and spraying the human with ropes of hot semen. Finally, Kirk’s knees gave out and he collapsed onto the mat, just as Spock pulled the dildo free from Kirk’s clinging passage.
For a few blissful moments, Kirk lay flat on his stomach, trying to draw enough breath to speak, every inch of his body tingling with sensation, his ass still throbbing and clenching from being fucked by the Klingon instrument. It’s over, he thought gratefully, yet with secret regret. Surely it’s over.
It wasn’t over. Spock leaned over and picked Kirk up as if the human weighed no more than a child. He took two steps to the bed and laid Kirk down on the thick, soft, absorbent spread that covered his bunk. He looked at the sight before him, Kirk’s golden body stretched out on the deep blue coverlet, his tender organ lying quiet against his thigh, his flesh twitching as the suckers, still clamped to his nipples, suckled the tender nubs, causing Kirk to arch up against the stimulation, panting, his golden eyes unfocused, his mouth working as if he still missed the sensation of Spock’s shaft or the Klingon toy moving between his lips. Spock fetched the flask of oil and reclined at Kirk’s side, his slick fingers beginning to slide against Kirk’s cock, which had been quiescent but quickly stirred to life at the stimulation of those clever, tormenting digits.
“No.” Kirk’s head rolled back and forth on the pillow as he whimpered in denial, even as his traitorous body once again responded to Spock’s touch. “I can’t, please, I can’t.”
“You can,” Spock whispered, leaning down to claim the human’s hungry mouth, slipping his tongue between Kirk’s lips and moaning as the warm, moist cavern sucked it in. Spock plundered Kirk’s mouth and fondled his cock until he felt the organ swell yet again within his hand. He pulled his mouth away, wrenching a moan from Kirk as he did so.
“You can,” Spock repeated, his hand moving away from Kirk’s erect organ. “You will.” He took Kirk’s limp hand in his own, curling the fingers around his eager cock, moving the human’s hand up and down against his hardness.
“Stroke me,” he murmured, smiling to himself as Kirk’s hand obediently took up the rhythm. “Make me harder for you.” It took only moments, and Spock was once again fully engorged and erect. He slid his fingers under Kirk’s balls and further back, stroking and pressing against that patch of sensitive skin between the testicles and the anus, and then moving his fingers further until first one and then two were once again thrusting in and out of Kirk’s passage, so open, so sensitized by the spiked Klingon dildo. Kirk’s penis, so hard it was almost flat against his belly, was once more weeping pre-cum, and his hips were working frantically against Spock’s fingers.
“It’s…it’s not enough.” Kirk sobbed dryly as he tried to thrust harder, deeper against the Vulcan’s clever fingers. “It’s not enough. Please, oh please, more. More!”
“Very well. You have asked; remember that.” Spock parted the human’s thighs, sliding his large, warm palms beneath Kirk’s ass, cradling the firm mounds in his grasp, loving the feel of the firm, silken flesh as he lifting the human’s hips. He hesitated just long enough to see that Kirk was once again pushing upwards, once again panting with eagerness, before he lined up and slid his entire length into the human’s hot, excited hole, still dripping with the oil that had covered the Klingon toy. Kirk surged against him, his back arched upwards as he met Spock’s hunger with his own, his legs wrapping themselves around Spock’s waist, the sinews in his muscled thighs quivering as he tried to draw the Vulcan’s cock even deeper into his body.
“Ohhh! Oh, yes! Oh gods, Spock, don’t stop, keep fucking me, oh please, deeper, go deeper, don’t stop, oh gods your cock, so…so hot, so hard, oh please, fuck me, FUCK ME!” Kirk was splayed, plundered, claimed, and wild for more. He clung to Spock, pushing up as Spock split him open, meeting every thrust with panting enthusiasm, kissing and sucking Spock’s neck, his nipples, every inch of flesh he could reach, his own cock, pressed between them, stimulated to a point past pain, past pleasure, once again flowing with rich cum as Kirk climaxed yet again.
“Feel me,” Spock groaned, thrusting again and again, pushing deep, so deep into the hot, tight, wet tunnel that griped him. “Feel me in you. Who owns this ass? Who can fuck this ass?”
“Yours,” Kirk sobbed as he squeezed Spock’s huge rod convulsively. “Only yours. Only you. Oh gods, I’m cumming….I’m cummming!” He screamed and spasmed one final time, just as Spock, his own orgasm ripping through him, flooded Kirk with his essence, feeling it overflow the human’s ass and bathe them both with its burning torrent.
Kirk fell back on the bed, all but unconscious, his body covered in sweat, semen, saliva, and tears, his whole form still trembling from the overload of stimulation. Once he’d caught his breath, Spock rose and fetched several items to set on the bedside table before returning to the bed and sitting down at Kirk’s side. He picked up a velvet-soft cloth, dampening it with the contents of a small, carved-jade bottle, which he then set aside. He rolled Kirk onto his stomach, carefully parted the human’s legs, revealing the still-spasming aperture that had given him so much pleasure. He was pleased to see that while the opening was somewhat inflamed and tender, there was no evidence of any real damage. Spock smiled internally. It was good to know that this was one human who was both astonishingly responsive and tough enough to take all Spock could give. Wrapping two fingers in the cloth, he began to gently clean Kirk, noting that at his first touch, the human’s hips began to once more work weakly against the bed clothes. As Spock slipped both cloth-wrapped fingers into Kirk’s passage, the human arched up against the stimulation, crying out softly, “No, please, no more, oh, please….” even as his body belied what his words said.
Spock ran his hand soothingly down Kirk’s spine. “Be at peace,” his voice rumbled through the room. “This liquid will calm your body, not arouse you. Lie still and let me work.”
Whimpering slightly, Kirk complied, consciously relaxing his muscles and allowing Spock access to his innermost flesh. Spock removed the cloth and drizzled more lotion on his fingers, slipping them inside Kirk and rubbing the creamy fluid into the tender, sensitized channel and the swollen, aching kernel of flesh that Spock had tortured to bring Kirk to climax so many times. As the cool liquid bathed his prostate, Kirk let out a sigh, pushing back gently against Spock’s fingers, softly fucking himself on the caressing digits, clearly relishing the sensation but no longer driven by the frenzy of lust that the Vulcan had engineered in him earlier. The Vulcan waited patiently until the slow rocking motions ceased and the hungry ring of muscle, finally sated, released his fingers.
Spock turned the human over, noticing that he was still dazed with passion, his eyes heavy-lidded and his limbs responding sluggishly to Spock’s touch. Kirk lay back, completely open and pliant, his cock still half-hard and his heavy testicles pulsing with the aftermath of his orgasms. Reaching over to the bedside table, Spock picked up a jar and opened it, covering his fingers with the thick, sandalwood-scented cream it contained. As he had before, he began to anoint the human’s most private areas, softly rubbing the cream into the downy, pendulous balls, enjoying the feel of them quivering beneath him as Kirk once again writhed weakly on the bed and panted as the hot fingers caressed him. Spock coated his hand with another layer of cream and began to stroke the turgid flesh of Jim’s cock, allowing the slippery moisture to soak into the thin, tender skin, running his thumb over the hot, swollen crown, exquisitely milking the last pearly drops from the human’s shaft, continuing until the organ finally lay quiet in its soft bed of golden hair.
“Ahhhh,” Kirk sighed as the final tremors shuddered through him. Spock wiped him down with a warm, wet cloth and then, stopping frequently to re-coat his hands with the soothing cream, he continued his massage, moving his hands up the rippling belly muscles and rib cage, the chest, shoulders, and arms, every touch easing the over-stimulated nerves until Kirk was almost boneless with his release. Finally, Spock carefully removed the Vulcan suckers one at a time, leaning down to lave each abraded nipple with his tongue as Kirk sobbed softly with blissful relief at the disappearance of the tiny mouths that had tortured—and delighted—those tender bits of flesh. He whimpered again as Spock smoothed a layer of the cooling cream over the tiny wounds.
“Thank you,” Kirk whispered. “Thank you.” Spock marveled that throughout all this, the human had accepted Spock’s touch without a fight.
Spock gently lifted Kirk into his arms, stripping the bunk of its protective covering, which was soaked with their fluids, and then laying Kirk down on the cool bedding. Spock drew a sheet over the prone body. Kirk, obviously fighting his complete exhaustion, started to rise.
“I have to leave,” he murmured. “I have to sleep in my own cabin. I have to be safe.” Spock knew that Kirk never slept anywhere but in his own quarters, surrounded by guards and alarms.
Spock gently but firmly pushed him back down. “You will stay here. My guards will ensure that we are both safe. I want you here for tonight.” Kirk subsided with little more than a sigh, the golden head resting on a pillow with a soft sound of relief.
Covering the human with a light blanket, Spock retreated to his bath to cleanse his own flesh. He then went to the comm. and checked with his guards, making certain that their vigilance was up to the standard he expected. His tasks completed, Spock returned to his bed and slipped under the blanket, pulling the exhausted human into his arms, silently loving the way Kirk melted against him, obviously relishing the feel of Spock’s skin against his, craving the Vulcan’s warmth now that it was no longer a conflagration to burn his body with lust. For a long time, both were silent. Then Kirk’s voice, almost a whisper, broke the stillness.
“Why?”
“I would think I had answered that.”
“No, not why you…did…all that, but why are you being so…kind…to me now?” Kirk could barely make himself say the word. For a moment, Spock was silent, and then Kirk felt the Vulcan’s lips brush against his temple. Instantly, Kirk was flooded with feelings of warmth, of longing, of an endless craving for cool golden flesh. He gasped, understanding that the feelings were not his, but Spock’s.
“I had to watch,” the Vulcan said in a low voice, “as you fucked every woman on this ship, as time after time, you looked for something you could not find, because it was not to be found where you looked. I saw your hunger; it matched my own. It was time for your search to end, but I knew you would not accept me until I showed you your true desires. I had to break you to my hand, but I never wanted to destroy you.”
Kirk knew he should be outraged or alarmed, but somehow he was neither. Lying here in Spock’s arms, his body replete with the greatest fucking of his entire life, his exhausted flesh tended with exquisite care, and the comforting warmth of the Vulcan’s body against his, Kirk felt only a weary lassitude and the unspoken knowledge that if he had known earlier what lay ahead, he would have come willingly to this cabin. He would have begged Spock to break him.
“We…we may kill each other someday,” he murmured, sleep slurring his voice. He felt Spock’s hand on his brow.
“Not tonight,” Spock said softly, stroking his forehead. “Not tonight.”
“No, not toni…” Kirk was asleep. The cabin was quiet. The hunger was sated…for now.