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Author's Chapter Notes:

Contains: Mirror!Verse (stuff that’s talked about but doesn’t actually take place… oc character deaths, slavery, and general noncon stuff), polyamory, BDSM, impact play (caning and strapping), sex toys, slight asphyxiation, short watersports fantasy, nipple play, dirty talk, rimming, biting, scratching, rough sex, mention of enemas, voyeurism, exhibitionism

Written in response to [info]birddi’s art for [info]trekreversebang. Many thanks to [info]meteorfire and [info]jademac2442 for the awesome (and last minute) beta jobs. You’re both amazing! Also many thanks to everyone that I’ve annoyed throughout this process ([info]karmic_fic, [info]teleens_journal, [info]whiteraven1606, [info]emmypenny, [info]akuchan_47, [info]nightshadow_t2). If I annoyed you, but didn’t list you, let me know, and I’ll add you. ;) Also for a [community profile] kink_bingo square: bites/bruises. All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated.

 

 

Submission was a weakness. That fact had been drilled into Spock’s very essence since the moment of his birth. Yet, here in this place, it was cherished and sacred, worshipped. When Spock had beamed off the ship and materialized in the middle of a building, he’d known immediately that something was wrong. The planet that they had been visiting was uninhabited for one thing and the rest of the ground team was not present.

The door next to him opened, and Spock had his phaser out and set to stun immediately. The young, purple, humanoid woman in white that stood in the door way went wide-eyed and screamed. Before Spock could blink he was surrounded, and knowing that the odds were against him, he moved to set the phaser down. Spock never even made it half way down, before a hit to the temple sent him into darkness.

Waking, he found himself chained in a small dark room with an aching head. Reaching up, he felt for the damage and jerked back at the pain, looking at the blood on his finger tips. Spock tested the chains, and found them solid and sound, easily able to withstand his strength. The species had considerable strength themselves to need strong chains or they knew that he was a Vulcan. Some time passed before the door finally opened and an older, purple skinned man dressed in flowing blue robes entered.

 

 

Spock rose, straightening as much as his chains allowed, an impressive figure despite the bindings holding him in place. “What is the meaning of this? I am Spock S’chn T’gai, First Officer on the Enterprise of the Terran Empire.”

“I do not know this Terran Empire you speak of, Vulcan. Earth is a part of the Federation of Planets. However, you have dared set foot into this sanctuary of the chaste. No dominant is permitted past the gate, and yet you were there standing in the middle of the grounds with no signs of forced entry and no suggestion to where you have come from. Typical punishment for such a misdeed would be instant death; however, you are fortunate to be a Vulcan. Given that there are so few of you left, and that the Enterprise you claim to be a part of is visiting, your punishment shall be dictated by them.”

The old man turned and left with a flourish before Spock could voice his questions. No Empire? No Federation of Planets? And worst of all, what did the man mean by ‘so few’? The most obvious answer was that this was no longer his universe, that the transporter had malfunctioned. The truth became obvious mere minutes later when the door opened again.

Instead of the old man, Spock found himself face to face with his Captain. Yet, in that instance he knew the man was not his Captain. This Kirk was many years physically younger than the one from his reality, and held himself as a youth, unlike the captain that he knew, and his face was soft and open, so unlike the blankness or cruel twist of the lips that his captain often wore. The lack of facial hair was also a difference as well as the simplicity of the uniforms, lacking the usual adornments that Spock had always considered impractical.

It proved most strange when Spock found himself face to face with his own counterpart, seemly identical except this one lacked facial hair as well. It was interesting to note how much a difference there appeared to be.

“Fascinating,” both Spocks stated at the same time.

Jim looked between them both. “Great. You come in stereo. Now, tell us who you are.”

“I am Spock S’chn T’gai of the Terran Empire. I am the First Officer of the Starship Enterprise and you are my Captain.” Spock could not help the stress that he put on the word.

Something dark passed over Kirk’s face but he laughed at the words. “What are the chances of having three Spocks in one universe?”

“Three?” Spock questioned.

His counterpart replied. “A future version of me traveled through a black hole and appeared one hundred and twenty nine years in the past.”

Spock blinked. “How did the event horizon—”

Kirk interrupted, “Don’t start that. We don’t have time. Now how did you get here and what are your plans?”

Spock straightened his posture as much as the chains allowed. “I had beamed down to an uninhabited planet with a science team, but when I rematerialized I was inside a building. I knew instantly that there must have been a malfunction with the transporter, and that I likely was not in my own universe as such things had happened before. A door opened and a woman screamed. I was stunned and awoke here. I have no immediate plans, and do not know if there is a way to get back to my own universe.”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “No immediate plans. But you do have plans.” It was not a question.

“Of course. I must ascertain the feasibility of returning to my own universe and if that is not possible then I must consider the possibility of being stuck here and what I shall do if that is the case. I am without money, position, or title, but I am not without skills that I can barter.”

“And what skills can you offer us?” Jim inquired.

“Captain—” Spock protested but Jim cut him off.

“While I have a hard time imagining that you could be a bad guy, Spock, this isn’t like Salek**. We do not know anything about this Vulcan or where he has come from. There are an infinite number of universes he could have come from, and we know nothing of them. While I do not like to imagine it, he could be very different from you, Mr. Spock.”

“Very astute, Captain. I would have worried if you had trusted me so soon. While I am First Officer of my ship, I was also the Science Officer. I graduated top of my class and served as First Officer under Captain Pike until you took over his position.”

“Took over?” Jim questioned. That was an odd way to word it.

“Yes. There was an unfortunate accident and Pike was unable to continue acting as Captain. You took his place.”

“Typically, it is the First Officer that steps in when the Captain is unable to continue fulfilling his duties. Were you otherwise indisposed or was he assigned?”

Spock did not understand what Kirk meant. While it was not unheard of for lower positions to be filled by assignment, a person only rose in position if they fought for it, fought for it and won. That did not seem to be the case here. How very quaint and strange. “Neither. Where I came from, typically only the lowest ranks are assigned. Everything else was fought for both overtly and covertly.”

“And you fought for your position.” Again it wasn’t a question, but Spock answered anyway.

“Yes.” He felt no need to explain himself. He had done what had to be done.

“Was your Captain next on your list? I know I cannot beat you in a physical fight, and can’t imagine another me would be much different.” That was just another difference from his Captain. He never would have admitted such weakness.

Spock weighed his words. “No. I was loyal to my Captain. He is a hard man and often cruel. However, despite that he was the strongest man I had ever met, and does what must be done. He is worthy of my respect, and I have been proud to call him Captain these past years. I have been content in my place, and have enough enemies that rising to captaincy would be a dangerous endeavor on my part. I have no aspirations for such a position.”

“Is your world dynamic?” Jim asked, already knowing the answer, seeing it in Spock’s frame.

“Yes. I am dominant as you know.”

The Captain and his counterpart shared a heavy look, but did not say a word and Spock wondered what that meant.

“If I may, I have a question about something the old man said.” At Jim’s nod, Spock continued. “He mentioned something about there being few Vulcans left. What did he mean?”

Jim shared a glance with Spock’s counterpart. “Does the name Nero mean anything to you?”

 

 

Spock shook his head in the negative. “No, I have never heard the name.”

It was his counterpart that spoke up. “Nero was a Romulan from the future who traveled through the same black hole that my future self appeared from. It had been tasked to my future self to create a black hole to prevent the destruction of Romulus from an impending supernova. He failed, and Nero vowed revenge. Using the same technology that was supposed to save Romulus, Nero created a black hole at the center of Vulcan. While we were unable to prevent that, we were able to save Earth from a similar fate. There are less than half a million Vulcans left in this universe.”

Spock blinked at the revelation. This was not just an alternate dimension, but an alternate reality brought to fruition from Nero’s presence. He wondered if his own presence here would have such wide reaching consequences, but as he had no desire to commit genocide, he knew it was unlikely. It was then that he realized “Father and… Mother?”

His counterpart’s face did not change, but he could read his eyes, so oddly expressive, and braced himself for the words that would explain the sorrow he saw there.

“Father is still alive. However… Mother never made it off the planet. The ground fell from beneath her feet as we were being teleported.” The tone was flat and lifeless, but his eyes told it all. “Is Mother still alive in your dimension?”

Nodding, Spock spoke, “If it pleases you, I could tell you of her at a later date.”

Something relaxed in his counterpart’s frame. “Yes. That would be agreeable.” Turning to Jim, he spoke, “We have dallied long enough. It is time to return to the ship, or we will be late for our next mission.”

Spock watched the interaction with interest. He never would have said such a thing to his Captain, knowing that if he had a backhand or a night in the brig would have been the least of his worries.

“Very well. Undo his chains.” His counterpart made quick work of them, obviously having a key.

Spock stood and stretched, enjoying the freedom of movement. The freedom was short lived as Jim suddenly snapped a pair of cuffs on him. He tugged on them experimentally, but they did not budge, obviously having been tested for Vulcan strength. He did not protest as another set was attached to his ankles with a longer length connecting them, allowing him to walk with short strides though running was out of the question.

“I am sorry for this, but your world is very different from our own, and there is much I do not know or understand. I do not know if I can trust you, and till such a time until I decide otherwise you will remain chained. You will remain in the brig until I decide what to with you.”

Yes, this man was still his Captain. “I would expect no less from the Captain of the Enterprise.”

“Scotty, three to beam up. Don’t be surprised by what you see.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Spock wondered if he’d appear on his own ship as he felt his atoms pulled apart, however upon rematerializing, he found himself in a transporter bay that was both similar and different. The Captain handed him over to security, telling him that he’d be down later to talk. As he was escorted to the brig, Spock wondered what this new universe would bring for him and if he would find a place in it.

 


 

The first day, Spock was left alone in the cells, except for the curious Security teams. Spock noted both familiar and unfamiliar faces. He wondered what they would do to him. He was unsure what his Captain would have decided if the situations were switched, if there was another Spock in his own universe. None of the likely possibilities were pleasant to say the least, but Spock couldn’t help but feel things would be different in this universe. The little that he had seen and gathered said that the culture and values of this universe were vastly different from his own. There was a surprising lack of guards surrounding the Captain and his counterpart. In the hallways there were no submissives chained for punishment, none being led around by leashes.

Spock was not surprised when the Captain appeared the next day.

“Tell me about where you came from,” Kirk demanded.

Spock told him, starting with the history of his society, explaining how the Empire had come to be. He talked about how dominant children were taken from their submissive mothers at a young age, about military training starting at age twelve, alongside the exploration of his dynamic. He told him about submissives and their lack of rights, and how dominants ruled it all.

Kirk listened, face surprisingly blank throughout it all, and the surprising emptiness in his eyes disturbed Spock. When Spock finally finished, the Captain left without a word, and Spock was left wondering what he all meant.

He found out the next day when Kirk returned with a number of PADDs filled with history and etiquette and laws.

“Read them. Let me know if you have any questions.” And he was gone again.

The information that Spock found was startling, the fall of the Roman Empire millennia prior, and ultimately the reforms that created equality between dominants and submissives, submissives that could say no to their dominants and were not required to follow their orders outside the bedroom unless it was part of their contract, submissives that could hold power.

When the Captain returned the next day, Spock was still processing the information, the beliefs of the culture that he was raised in at war with everything he had learned about this universe. He did not know what to think when the Captain entered with a 3D chess set. He did not say anything as he set up the pieces and without a word they began a game.

Spock had never played with his own Captain, so the challenge was a welcome surprise, but even then, he could not concentrate fully on the game with thoughts of everything he had learned still being filed away as he tried to find some sense of order and solidity.

“You are troubled,” Kirk started.

“Yes.” There was no reason to lie.

“Do you find it so horrible?” Kirk asked.

Spock shook his head. “No, not horrible. While no longer widely popular, there are Vulcans that still follow the belief of IDIC. I am one of them. There were many things that took place in my world that I did not personally condone, but I was not in a position to change them. I was different from many dominants, wanting things that just did not exist. I never allowed myself to consider that a place like this existed.”

The Captain wore as a curious expression as he watched Spock. “Do you have any questions?”

“No, not at this time. However, I am still processing the information, and may have some at a later date.”

“Feel free to ask me at anytime.” Kirk turned to examine the board. “Are you up to continuing now or do you want to pick up again tomorrow.”

Spock wanted the company, but he was distracted. The Captain was a formidable opponent it seemed, and Spock wished to be able to focus more fully on the game.

“I believe it is best to wait until tomorrow. I am not up to my usual capability.”

The next three days took on a similar pattern, and Spock asked questions as they came to him. Kirk answered each and did not seem to judge him for them.

The forth day brought with it a change.

“The Admiralty still has not reached a decision regarding you. You’ll be allowed limited movement around the ship. I would restrict your computer access, but know that you could easily hack it. Don’t hack anything you don’t have access to, understood?”

Spock nodded his agreement. There was a lot he would have agreed to to get out of this room, and what the Captain listed was no hardship.

Jim lowered the force field, and Spock followed him out grateful for the freedom. After a brief tour of the ship, in which Jim explained which areas were off limits to him—the majority of them—Jim led him to a room in the guest section of the ship, normally reserved for visiting dignitaries.

“I would advise that you take your meals in the mess. Talk to people, get people used to you. We’ll see what the Admiralty decides. While I can’t officially assign you to anything, talk to Spock. He’s been complaining about the incompetence of some of the scientists under him, so I’m sure he could find something for you to do.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“I’m expecting an important call, so I need to be off, but if you need anything, ask, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Of course. Take care, Captain.”

 


 

Four weeks after Spock found himself in this new universe, he still did not understand it. A person’s nature only ruled in the bedroom. A submissive could hold a place of power. The very idea of such a thing was contrary to the ideals that had shaped his life. Such a thing was said to lead to chaos, yet here in this world there was less disorder than in his own. There were no obvious plots, no assassins hiding in shadows.

Dominants and submissives worked together as equals, and it did not create conflict. If Spock had not known better, he would have almost believed that the few dozen collared subs he had seen were the only ones on the ship. However, given the size of the ship, Spock knew that such an uneven ratio was impossible. Closer to fifty-fifty was idyllic, and while rare in his universe, it would not shock him to find that the numbers on this ship were closer to that.

Given the delicate nature of his acceptance here, Spock knew he had to be cautious. The inability to differentiate dominants from submissives set him on edge, leaving him teetering in the most unpleasant fashion. He did not wish to mistakenly proposition a dominant or even worse, a submissive that was claimed by one.

It had been far too long for him, weeks now, longer than he’d gone without since his training days. However, he still did not know the rules of this would, and did not know how to breach the subject or what was an acceptable action. He knew that his typical actions would not be taken kindly here.

That conflict was what led him to his counterpart’s quarters. It was odd seeing himself, hearing himself, seeing someone that was so like, yet so very different from himself.

When the door opened, Spock did not hesitate to enter. Seeing his counterpart sitting at his desk, Spock said, “I hope this is not an inopportune time.”

“No. I am just going over the data from some of my research projects. Please sit. What can I help you with?”

Spock shook his head, back straight and hands clasped behind his back. “No, I prefer to stand. Thank you. I’m in need of assistance, and am unsure who else to approach.”

His counterpart looked intrigued, and Spock continued on. “I wish to procure a partner and I am having… difficulty distinguishing dominants from submissives.” Despite sharing a face with the Vulcan across from him, Spock did not understand the odd look that was directed at him, but he could not help but feel that he was being judged

Long moments passed before his counterpart finally spoke. “As I am nondynamic and asexual, I would suggest you see the captain. Due both to his position and charisma, the other submissives typically confide in him, and if anyone would know who is available and interested it would be him.”

“You are not a dominant?”

“No, despite T’Pau’s prediction at my birth, I have never had any inclination to participate in such things. Perhaps after I experience my first pon farr, things will change, but while not unheard of, I find the possibility to be unlikely. I am happy with my friends and the relationships I have.”

“I must admit that I do not understand such a thing, but you are clearly content here. What did you mean by position? In my universe it was typical for the Captain to control such exchanges, but I had not thought that things were the same here.

“Jim does not control any of them. He is aware of their preferences and keeps them safe. It is not just because of his position as Captain. As the highest ranking submissive on the ship, it is only logical for the others to seek him out. They know that Jim would never stand for any abuse.”

Spock missed the knowing twinkle in his counterpart’s eyes as he suddenly found himself intimately familiar with the human concept of the world falling away beneath one’s feet. He suddenly found himself wishing that he’d taken up the offer of a seat because this revelation was too much to hope for.

“Jim is a submissive?” Spock feared he could not keep the shock from his voice.

“That is so disturbing to you?”

“Where I come from, submissives rarely hold a place of rank, and the very idea of a submissive captain is unheard of. Whilst I have had seen some submissives of higher ranks, the idea of the Captain being a submissive had never crossed my mind. His personality is not that of a submissive. No, it does not disturb me, but I find myself to be...” Spock hesitated, still not used to admitting weakness. “…off balanced.”

“You are attracted to the Captain.”

“Yes.”

“Do not hurt him. While you come from a universe in which torture is commonplace, do not be fooled that such things do not happen here. While you may not fear what I am capable of, if you hurt the Captain, I will be the least of your worries. The good doctor does not take kindly to people hurting Jim,” his counterpart informed him.

Spock mentally shuddered at that. He’d only been at the tender mercy of the doctor once. The nickname that many whispered but dared not speak to his face, the Butcher, was not apt. If Doctor McCoy was so inclined, he could break a man without leaving a mark. No, the man was an artist. Whilst there were many differences between this universe and his own, that was not one he was of a mind to test.

“I have no intention of hurting the Captain.” Or Spock hoped at least not in a way that he wouldn’t like. Spock considered his words carefully. “What is the Captain to Doctor McCoy?”

“They have been friends since the Academy, and before the Nero incident, they began a contract relationship. I cannot give you the specifics. However, it is more a contract of convenience than a match of dynamics. If you wish to know more, you will have to question them directly.” His counterpart looked at the clock. “If you wish to speak to Jim, now would be a good time.”

Spock tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I thank you for your help. It has been most insightful.” Without another word Spock took his leave.

 


 

Spock’s father was different from any other dominant that Spock had ever known, treating his mother almost kindly, catering to her needs, giving her more freedom than Spock had ever seen a dominant give a submissive. Spock had been allowed to know his mother, something almost unheard of in his social circle. Typically dominant children were taken from their submissive parents so they would not be corrupted. But Sarek had encouraged their interaction though Spock was not allowed to speak of it.

Spock had never understood the connection and feelings between his parents, did not know how a woman whom was little more than a slave could mean so much to a great lord such as his father. Nonetheless, he was ashamed to admit that he wanted what his parents had.

Spock had known from a young age that he was different, that his desires did not match up with what was expected of a dominant. He did not want to use mindless submissives, so beaten and broken that they did not even know who they were anymore. He wanted a submissive that was his equal—a truly radical idea—someone with whom his dynamic meshed.

He’d felt lust and desire towards his Captain from the moment he’d seen him, but despite the man’s masochistic tendencies he would never let another dominant have him. Spock knew better than to try. Yet, he could not help but wish.

And here in this universe so similar, yet so different from his own, he’d found his Captain again. The revelation that he was a submissive, that a submissive could hold power and was not seen as less just because of their sexual leanings rocked the foundation of Spock’s world. Maybe, just maybe, he had a chance with this man, that his abnormal desires were not so far off, that he could find a place in this world.

The Captain however was hesitant, and Spock knew without a doubt that Kirk had been hurt badly by a dominant before. He was also unsure of the relationship that existed between the Captain and the Spock of this universe and the Captain and Doctor McCoy. He’s seen the looks that Kirk sent Spock, and he was not oblivious to the many dark looks sent his way by the doctor. While the doctor had been a submissive in his own universe he was no one to be trifled with lightly, one of the few submissives on the Enterprise that had had power.

But this McCoy, Spock was unsure of him. Spock was having difficulties distinguishing who was a dominant and who was a submissive. There were no obvious postures to differentiate them. Only the collared submissives were easily identifiable and even then there were no more than dozen that he had seen on a ship of over five hundred. To make matters even more complicated was there was something called a ‘switch’ in this universe, a person that could act as both dominant and submissive. While the possibility of such things had been theorized in his universe, to meet them face to face as real living beings was fascinating.

So that is what brought him here, standing outside the Captain’s quarters, debating the necessity of such an event. This was a weakness, admitting a lack of knowledge. It was hard enough to admit it to his own counterpart, but this was even worse. His Captain would have used it for what it was. However, Spock felt that this Jim would be different.

He should not have been startled when the door suddenly slid open and Jim demanded, “If you want something come in and stop lurking at my door.”

Spock hesitantly stepped into the room, taking a look around, making note of the sparseness of his surroundings before addressing Kirk who was sitting at his desk. “Captain—”

Kirk interrupted him. “Given that you are not an official member of my crew, I think the use of my given name would be more appropriate, don’t you think, Spock?”

Spock stiffened, wondering if he was wrong because that had sounded suspiciously like his Captain. “Jim,” Spock began again, hesitantly. “I find myself in need of company, and given the differences of this reality from my own, I am unsure who would be receptive to my advances.”

Jim smiled slowly, simply amused though not mocking. “You are asking for recommendations?”

Despite the meetings that they had had, Spock was still not used to this Jim; he could not imagine his own Captain, having even been so innocent and open. “Yes,” Spock replied simply.

Jim motioned to the chair across from him. “Please take a seat.” Spock did as Jim continued talking. “Typically I have a file on the person when I do something like this, but as I don’t have one of you, we’ll have to start with the basics. I know you are a dominant and a sadist. Tell me more about your dynamic, what kind of training you’ve had, and where your interests lie.”

“As you say, I am a dominant and a sadist. Even where I am from my sadism is considered to be extreme. I trained at Shi'oren t' Kusut-bosh Sanosh from age twelve to seventeen upon which time I enrolled at the Starfleet Academy. I was invited for a term at Látigo, but turned them down, thinking myself well enough trained. Before I entered the Academy my partners had all been Vulcan. I had never had a relationship with a human until that time.” Spock held Jim’s gaze and did not dare to look away.

“Due to my unacceptable ignorance and blind arrogance, I killed my submissive. In my carelessness, I broke her neck, not knowing that I should or how to check my strength with a human. I could make excuses and say that my training was not good enough or that my instructors were too lenient or incompetent, but I knew it was my fault. I enrolled in Látigo the next day for a term and ended up spending two years there. While there I was awarded proficiency with all impact devices and ultimately mastered my dynamic.”

“What is your experience with safe words?”

“There is no such concept in my universe. I have, of course, read about them in the material that you have provided me. I find myself intrigued by the notion. While never aloud, I have often questioned the belief of my universe that dominant should know when a submissive has had enough. There were many instances during my training that I found myself uncomfortable in continuing despite my instructors’ urges to do so. Submissives didn’t have the same rights that they do here. They were not treated as equals. In reality, they were little more than slaves.”

“Is that what you expect to have here? A slave? You will not find that on this ship.”

“Jim, my parents were unique in my society. My father cared for my mother. Treated her far better than any submissive I’ve ever seen, and even let me have a relationship with her past childhood. It is something that I was not allowed to ever speak of outside of our home. It was not equality, but I have spent my life dreaming of what my parents had. Their dynamics meshed perfectly, something that was very rare in my reality. Here, I dare to hope that I may find what they have. I do not want a slave, but someone that is my equal, someone that I also fit together well with.”

“You have not been trained to respond to a safe word. Your will visit Doctor McCoy tomorrow to be tested. If you pass, he will be present at your first dozen encounters.”

Spock knew better than to protest, hearing the steel in the Captain’s tone.

“What kind of characteristics are you looking for in a sub? Do you have any preferences?

“Gender is of no consequence, nor is appearance; however, they must be physically fit. I need someone that is a masochist, the more extreme the better. I enjoy some bondage, but I am not a master of that skill, and take only limited enjoyment from it.”

“Do you have any questions or anything else you’d like to add?”

“I was informed that you are a submissive.”

“Yes, does that bother you?”

“No, I find myself quite intrigued by the idea. My Captain was a dominant, and while I understand that here dominants and submissives hold positions equally, I never considered the possibility that you were not. If I may, I understand you are in a relationship with Doctor McCoy?”

“Yes,” Jim stately simply, not expanding on it.

“In my universe, if a submissive was uncollared then they were fair game to any dominant that wanted them. Even collared submissives weren’t safe from other dominants. If their dominant was not there to protect them then they were easy pickings. I know that such things are unacceptable here, and I was never one to touch a collared sub. I admit I am attracted to you, and if given the chance, would like to do a scene with you.” Spock felt a rush of lust as he watched Jim’s eyes rapidly dilate at his words.

“I will take that into consideration and it is something that I would have to discuss with Bones of course. In situations like this, it is typically good form to ask the dominant before propositioning the submissive.”

“However, I did not proposition you. I merely stated a fact.”

A wide grin stretched across Jim’s face. “Semantics, Mr. Spock.”

“If that is all?”

Spock nodded his agreement. He had much to think about.

“Good. Doctor McCoy will call you later this evening to set up a time for your testing.” Jim paused for a moment before continuing with a wink. “Good luck.”

 


 

“Bones!”

“Don’t ‘Bones’ me, Jim. I can’t believe you’re even considering this. I know you have a thing for Spock, but you don’t even know this one. Can you hear yourself? You just told me that he killed a submissive, and you want to have a scene with him, knowing what he’s capable of? Are you crazy?” McCoy hissed as he began pacing, glaring at Jim.

“You know it happens. There are seventeen dominants on his ship that have accidentally killed a submissive, and forty nine that have seriously injured one. They all went through the mandatory classes and retraining. You cleared them all.”

McCoy stopped in front of Jim, taking his hands in his. “I know, dammit! I know. But what do we really know about him? How do we know he’s not lying? He comes from a universe so different from our own that I don’t know why I should even trust him with you.”

“That’s why I want you to test him, see if he’s as proficient as he says. If you say he’s not, then I won’t bring up again. Bones, please?” Jim begged.

Tugging Jim forward, McCoy wrapped his arms around him. “Jim, darlin’. There are dozens of other subs on this ship. You could introduce him to any one of them. Why you?”

Jim buried his face in Bones’ neck, taking in his scent before replying. “You know why, Bones. I love you. You’re my best friend, and know me better than everyone. But we don’t fit well. We’ve known from the beginning, it was only supposed to be a temporary thing. It doesn’t change the way I feel for you.”

“Hell, kid. You know I’d do anything for you, and—”

“That’s the problem. You do. And I know how much you dislike it. And it kills me that I can’t be what you need. Just give him a chance. For me, please?” Jim raised his head and placed a small kiss on Bones’ lips.

McCoy heaved a great sigh against Jim’s lips and tightened his arms around him. “Fine, I’ll test him. If he passes, I’ll present at your scenes until I see fit.” He stepped back, holding Jim at arms length. “If he hurts you, he’ll beg me to castrate him before I’m through with him.”

Jim’s eyes went wide, but he nodded, knowing that the doctor was capable of it. “He’s expecting your call.”

“What?” McCoy growled. “You planned—”

“No! I wanted him tested before I set him up with anyone. Even if you’d ultimately said no to me, I still wanted him tested. You’re right. We don’t know what he’s capable of, but a part of me says that he can give me what I need.”

Bones gave him a suspicious look, but nodded. “Don’t make me regret this, Jim.”

“Never.”

 


 

Spock found the room that he was supposed to go and was not surprised that it was already occupied by Dr. McCoy and a half a dozen other crew members that he was unfamiliar with. In the center of the room stood a heavy wooden A-frame, obviously well used, and to his right was a table covered with numerous impact tools.

“I was informed that I was to be tested,” Spock addressed the doctor, still gazing over the selection in front of him. It had been some time and he missed his own toys. It would take many years to build up another collection, and a number of his favorites had been one of a kind, and thus likely lost to him.

“Yes. While you have stated that you were proficient with a number of implements, your world is very different from our own. Given your past incident, I want to certify that you are qualified to use them before I give you leave to utilize any of them on anyone. ” McCoy stated as he moved to stand next to Spock giving him a dark look, letting Spock know just how much he wanted the Vulcan to fail. “I have procured the help of a number of volunteers for this. If they bleed, you stop. If they say ‘red’, you stop. If I say ‘stop’, you stop. Understood?”

“Yes, Dr. McCoy,” Spock replied.

“Good, now pick your tool.” McCoy turned and strapped the first person to the cross, a well-muscled man, dark haired and pale.

Spock perused the table, taking note of the various devices—paddles, floggers, straps, canes, switches, cat-o-nine tails, whips, bullwhips, and many others—all of varying quality. Spock realized that the test was not only to check his skill with each item, but also to note his ability to select quality items. Low quality items could easily break and hurt one’s partner. The same could be said for items that were not taken care of well. There was a mix of new and used. He skipped over the new ones made of leather, knowing that while they were clean, they needed to be broken in; their stiffness could easily lead to more damage than he wanted.

Spock was instantly drawn to the canes, and let his hands ghost over them, but decided no, not yet. It was too soon for those. Instead he moved to the straps, selecting a number of them, testing the feel of each, watching how they moved and bent. Spock tested the movement of each before trying them on his palm, feeling the weight and sting. Finally he decided on a sturdy rubber strap, two feet long and two and a half inches wide. The handle was stiff and reinforced, fitting easily into his palm. The balance was good, and it was nice and flexible.

Setting it down for a moment, Spock stepped out of his shoes and stripped off his shirt and pants, folding them neatly before he set them down, leaving him only in his underwear. Picking up the strap again, he tested it on his tensed thigh. Satisfied with it, Spock looked towards the doctor for direction. Receiving a nod, he positioned himself behind the bound man.

“Start with twenty. When do you stop?”

Spock repeated the doctor’s orders. “When he says ‘red’, when you say ‘stop’, or when blood is drawn.”

“Good. You may begin.”

Spock bent, adjusting the man’s feet so his toes pointed inward. “Keep them there,” he ordered. Straightening, Spock smack the strap against his hand twice in quick succession, happy to note that while the man tried to tense at the sound, he was mostly unable to. He drew the strap across his body in a long stroke, and was pleased by the clap of rubber against flesh and the sharp gasp that he grew from the man. Before the leather even fell away, a thick pink line that was already rising on the flesh of the man’s pale buttock. Spock knew that it left a stinging memory in its place, and felt his cock begin to harden already.

Watching as the doctor moved so he could observe both Spock’s actions and the man’s face, Spock made five hits—lighter than the first—in quick success across the man’s buttock, each smack landing precisely one centimeter above and to the right of the previous. Pausing for a moment, he admired pinkened flesh, feeling himself harden further. It had been much too long. He’d missed this more than he’d realized. Had needed it.

The next five hits were harder, and the time between each random, leaving the submissive unprepared for each. The next five were in quick succession again, striking hard against already stinging flesh, though Spock was careful not to break skin. The next three were slow, and almost soft, teasing screaming nerves, and the final one, a harsh crack of rubber and plastic, left the man cumming with a scream.

Spock’s cock twitched in envy, and he looked towards the doctor, noting the fleeting grudging respect on his face.

McCoy moved to stand in front of the panting man. “Are you tracking, Ensign?”

An unsteady nod was his response, and apparently satisfied, he moved around him, checking the heated flesh of his ass for damage, not surprised to find that there was none. Undoing the binds that held the man to the frame, he guided him to one of the cots that lined the edge of the room and handed him a glass of water and a tube of crème that would prevent deep bruising. “You know the drill. Drink all of this.” The man nodded and did as he was told.

The doctor turned and motioned a pretty woman forward, dark skinned, yet shockingly blonde, and strapped her in.

As he did this, Spock set aside the strap to be cleaned, and perused the table again, finally settling on a well crafted, well used flogger. The wooden handle was smooth from wear and the soft doeskin leather of the nine tails would create sharp stings rather than the thud of heavier leather.

“I want to see above the waist this time, Spock.”

Spock nodded his understanding.

As similar process happened for each type of toy, followed by a new person for each, until they finally got to the cane. Spock tested them all for weight and balance, watching the bend and flexibility. Setting them all down, he turned and addressed the doctor. “As you know, none of these are acceptable. I will not fail this test as you wish me to.”

Doctor McCoy tilted his head in concurrence, and turned opening a cabinet. “These should be more to your liking.”

Spock’s cock jerked at the sight, and he pursued the selection almost relevantly. He instantly skipped over the synthetic canes. They were considered easier to use by many but caused much more damage than the rattan canes he preferred. He enjoyed a submissive’s pain, not their disfigurement. Blood was easy, and he knew many dominants took pride in making their submissive bleed. However, he knew there was no pride in such a thing. It was nothing but lack of control. There was no mastery there. A sub bled only when he wanted them too, never before.

Finally deciding Spock pulled out two canes: half an inch wide and thirty six inches long, the other three eighths of an inch thick and forty inches long. They each had leather handles that fit nicely into his hand. He tested both, watching as they cut through the air, testing the flex and mobility of each. Spock tried them both on himself, feeling the two phase pain as his nerves were compressed by the hit, then the expansion as the cane moved away. It was exquisite. Finally he decided on the half inch version, putting the other away.

Spock looked towards Doctor McCoy, awaiting his approval. For a moment it looked like the doctor was going to protest, and his mouth tightened into a thin white line, but he nodded his accent.

Spock moved into position behind the last submissive, a tall, sturdy Orion man if the coloring was anything to go by. He made his first move, the cane slashing through the air with an unmistakeable sound before the impact created a two part sound as he hit. A long welt appeared across the top his buttocks, the skin instantly deepening to a darker green than that surrounding it. The man was still for a moment before he jerked and moaned as his brain caught up with his nerves. Spock knew without looking that the man was as hard as he, and that he could have the man coming from the next stroke if he wished.

Spock did not, and took another stroke, faster and lighter, hitting with just the tip and letting the cane fall away right away. The mark was deep, just shy of breaking the skin, Spock knew. He made three similar cuts, never hitting the same spot twice, before following with another slow long stroke, stripping the length of the man’s ass. The man jerked and his bonds and came with a startled cry as Spock held the cane in place, prolonging the pain.

Spock waiting for the Onion to finish, and when he was finally limp in his bonds, Spock began again. The endorphins and pain pushed the submissive deeper and Spock had him come twice more before he finished. A flash of the Captain bonding in a similar way, coming from his cane, had Spock coming where he stood.

Doctor McCoy helped the man down, giving him water and crème as he had with the other others before returning to Spock and leading them to the other side of the room, where they could talk privately.

“Congratulations, Spock. You passed. I’ll add your proficiencies to your file.”

“You do not sound pleased.”

“Look, Spock. I don’t agree with this. You’re good I will admit, but I do not trust you. However, Jim hasn’t been this interested in anyone in a long time, and as much as it pains me to admit, your dynamics seem to be a good match. But know this: if you hurt him, you’ll live to regret it.”

So the Captain was interested. “I am a sadist.”

“Don’t be deliberately obtuse with me. Don’t hurt his heart, don’t abuse him. I know a number of sadists on this ship that would have creamed their pants during the first test. You made it through all of them. You have control, I’ll give you that. More than most people, but what happens when you lose that control?”

“I have not hurt someone in a way I did not intend since training. Látigo was very thorough in their education. Everything I did to a submissive was revisited onto me. I know exactly what it’s like. I’ve bled for my mistakes. I have learned from my mistakes, and know the consequences of losing control.”

“What of pon farr? What then?”

Spock froze at the phrase, something that was never spoken to with outsiders, and here, this human, knew about it. “What do you know of such things?”

Doctor McCoy looked aggravatingly amused. “Don’t look so shocked. With the destruction of Vulcan, there have been many things that have come out in ensuring the longevity and genetic diversity of your species.”

The mere idea that pon farr was likely public knowledge left Spock reeling, but there was no time for that. “My sadism may be genetic, but pon farr is even deeper than that. Pon farr overrides everything else. It’s a safety mechanism. It is a valid concern, Doctor, but the Vulcan species would have quickly died out if such a thing was not in place. An out of control sadist is a very dangerous thing to their partner.”

The doctor was not done yet. “But you’re only half Vulcan. Humans don’t go through pon farr and have no such genetic override.”

“That may be, but the majority of my genetics are Vulcan, so it’s likely that I will go through pon farr as is typical of one. I have precautions in place if I ever experience it. As you say part of my genetics are human, so there is a possibility that I may not.

“You will,” Doctor McCoy replied.

How would he know? Ah, yes. “Salek, the future version of the Spock from this universe.”

“Yes.”

“Did he say when it would happen?” Spock asked, curious.

“Yes, but he asked that I do not share the information as there is no way of knowing if it will be the same here as it was for him. Many things have changed in this universe and you are not even from this one. You’ll just have to be surprised like the rest of your species.”

The way the Doctor grinned implied that he took great pleasure in his knowledge and not sharing it with Spock. “Thank you for sharing the information with me.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing this for you. Remember, if you—”

Spock interrupted. “Yes, Doctor. I understand. Should I expect a visit this evening?”

The doctor was nearly growling aloud in annoyance and anger. “Get out. Jim will call for you.”

Spock tilted his head and took his leave, knowing that it was not a good idea to bait him.

“Wait!”

Spock paused and turned at the Doctor’s call.

“Don’t meld with him.”

Spock opened his mouth to ask why, but he was cut off.

“Not don’t ask why. Don’t ask him. Don’t meld with him even if he asks. Not unless he brings it up.”

Spock had rarely melded with submissives and hadn’t planned so with Jim, but this development intrigued him, but he would do as Doctor McCoy asked. For now. However, he just nodded his agreement, and turned back to leave.

McCoy was left wondering if he’d made a big mistake on a number of levels.

 


 

 

 

It was odd seeing the Captain—no, Jim—like this. Spock had fantasized of seeing his Captain on his knees before him many times, but he’d always worn a sneer, a mocking curl of his lips that told Spock that he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough. The reality of Jim kneeling before him was more than he’d imagined. A submissive Jim was not something he’d ever imagined himself encountering.

“What is your safe word?” Spock asked as he reached towards Jim.

“Tarsus, sir.”

He froze as he heard a soft gasp and rustle of fabric behind him. There must be significance to the word, something he would have to find out later. He did not like the doctor being here for this, but given Jim’s trust in him, this seemed to be the only way that Spock would be allowed with him, until he proved he was capable. It was like training all over again. Pushing thoughts of the doctor out of his mind, Spock continued his movement forward and fisted his hands in Jim’s hair. Pulling him close, Spock ordered, “Suck me.”

Jim’s head moved forward and he made no move to raise his hands to help. Good, he knows that he was not ordered to touch. Jim swirled his head around the double ridges behind the head of his cock, pressing his tongue against his base before drawing him in. Hollowing his cheeks, he sucked hard, and Spock’s fingers tightened in his hair, prompting a moan from Jim that vibrated wonderfully through his cock. Thrusting forward, he pushed into Jim’s throat, enjoying the flutter of his gag reflex and then the swallows around the sensitive head of his cock as Jim struggled to relax.

He held his position for a long minute, buried balls deep in Jim’s mouth before he finally pulled back enough for Jim to take two deep, gasping breaths. Then he thrust back in and held himself deep again. Looking down, he felt himself harden farther as he took note of Jim’s mouth, red and slick, stretched wide around the root of his cock. Tears fell from Jims eyes, and Spock couldn’t stop himself. Fucking Jim’s mouth, he set a brutal pace, causing his balls to bounce off Jim’s chin with each thrust, knowing that Jim’s lips would be bruised and puffy when he finished.

Getting close, he pulled out and ordered, “Mouth open. Tongue out.”

Jim did as he was told, and one look at Jim’s so thoroughly debased, red face, and one stroke of his hand on his cock had Spock exploding all over Jim’s face, his hair, his tongue. Spock had never cum so hard or so much in his life, and he blamed the month of celibacy that had been forced upon him. The test with Doctor McCoy had not been a proper release. Reaching out, Spock rubbed some of it into Jim’s skin, marking him in his mind, and the rest he wiped on Jim’s tongue which still stuck out from his open mouth.

When the last of it was deposited, Spock ordered, “Close your mouth. Don’t swallow.”

Jim’s eyes widened, but his mouth closed, and he stayed kneeling, his own cock hard and dripping between his legs, a long trail of precum connecting to the small puddle on the floor.

“Stand.”

Jim rose gracefully to his feet in one smooth, fluid motion, giving no hint to the fact that he’d been kneeling in that position for over an hour. He stood head tall, feet spread shoulder-width apart, shoulders back with hands clasped behind his back. The position pushed Jim’s chest out in the most appealing way, and Spock decided that if Jim became his, that his nipples would looks very pretty pierced with silver rings, to offset the gold of his skin. Reaching out Spock brushed a finger over one, pleased to note the sensitivity as it immediately hardened.

Walking around Jim, Spock took in the sight of him, noting every scar, mark, and freckle. He took in the tight muscles of his arms, and the slight softening to his stomach that spoke of too much junk food. His cock was long but not overly thick, his balls full and slow hanging.

Stopping in front of Jim, Spock ordered, “Open your mouth.”

Jim did, and Spock was pleased to know that his cum was still there.

“Very good. You may swallow.”

Spock watched as Jim’s mouth closed, and his Adam’s Apple bobbed, indicating he’d done as told.

“Can you come on command?”

Jim nodded, but did not speak and Spock was pleased at that.

“Very good. You will address me as Trensu. You have my permission to speak. How many times can you do so?”

“I’ve orgasmed seven times in one day. The last three were dry and hurt, Trensu.”

“Did you enjoy them?” Spock asked as he raked blunt fingertips down Jim’s back, enjoying the flush that rose in their wake.

“Yes!” Jim hissed in pleasure. “Trensu?”

“Yes?”

“I can orgasm without ejaculating.”

Now, that was something that Spock had never had the pleasure of witnessing before though he had heard about submissives that were able. “How many times before you have to ejaculate?”

“Twice, Trensu.”

Spock suddenly shoved two dry fingers up Jim’s ass, unsurprised to find he was already lubed, and reached around to tug and squeeze hard on Jim’s testicles, while ordering, “Now.”

With a cry, Jim’s body seized tight, his teeth clenched and the tendons standing out in stark relief on his neck as his cock jerked in the air.

Spock found himself impressed as no whiteness appeared at the end of Jim cock, just a large bead of clear precum. Spock let go of his balls and raked his blunt nail over the leaking slit, enjoying the shudder, pleased to note that Jim’s cock had not softened in the slightest.

“Very pretty,” Spock stated as Jim leaned back against him. “What are your limits?” Spock had read the file that Doctor McCoy had provided of course, but he’d rather hear the words himself. The information about kink negotiation had been intriguing to the say the least.

Jim hesitated a moment, clearly not expecting the question. In retaliation Spock curled his fingers, still encased in Jim’s ass and dug his nails into Jim’s prostate.

Jim keened and pulled back against his hand. “Scat and vomit,” Jim bit out.

Spock reached up and pulled sharply on Jim’s nipple with his free hand, forcing the flesh to form a cone, twisting as he went.

“Trensu!” Jim gasped and squirmed, his body unsure which direction to move, wanting more of both. “Please.”

“You have no problem with other body fluids?” Spock asked. He’d never found a submissive that enjoyed being pissed on.

“No, none. Trensu.”

Spock’s cock jerked at the sudden image of Jim on his knees, golden body still covered with command yellow, mouth open wide, as he pissed on him, in him, soaking the Captain’s pristine shirt, but he pushed the thought away. Now was not the time. There’d be plenty of time for that at a later date.

“What else?” Spock asked as he let up the pressure on Jim’s prostate, instead pulling his fingers out and slamming them back in hard. His other hand switched to Jim’s other nipple, squeezing it and watching as it turned a bright cherry red.

“Needles, Trensu!” Jim hissed, eyes wide as a flush rose on his golden skin. “Nothing pulls me out of my headspace faster. I can deal with them, if I can’t see them, but I can’t enjoy them. It’s not the pain obviously. I just…” Jim trailed off.

“Shh, no need to explain. What else?” Spock straightened a third finger to join the first two, slamming it in without out pause, or slowing down.

Jim’s knees buckled and he would have collapse if not for Spock’s hold on him.

“Total sensory deprivation. I can deal with just a blindfold or ear plugs, but never a hood.” Jim shuddered. “Bad memories.”

Spock thrust his fingers back in, harder than before, causing Jim’s ass to spasm and clutch at him, as a long moan was pulled from his throat. He wanted Jim’s mind here on this, no place else. That was all that was in the file, but he’d long since learned that files didn’t say everything.

“Is that all?” He prodded, tugging at Jim’s ear with his teeth. He rubbed his beard along the sensitive smooth skin of Jim’s jaw, feeling the shudder that it produced before dropping his head down to worrying the skin of Jim’s neck between his teeth.

Jim’s head dropped to the side, giving Spock easier access. When he received no reply, he bit down hard, just shy of breaking the delicate skin. He shoved his fingers in deep, forcing Jim to the top of his toes, as a strangled moan lodged in his throat.

“No not make me repeat myself,” Spock threatened.

“Toys!” Jim yelped. “I don’t like sex toys, Trensu.”

Spreading his fingers apart, he forced Jim’s hole wider, easily overpowering the struggling muscle. “Are they too impersonal for you, Jim? You’d rather have a warm flesh and blood cock spreading you wide, filling you up?” Jim whimpered his agreement, and Spock twisted his fingers, pulling them out and straightened his pinky while he tucked in his thumb, pushing forward, threatening. Jim might not be able to see it, but he could definitely feel it. “You want my fist in you? I’d stretch you so wide that you can’t close. Loose and ready for me any time I want. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Trensu!” Jim keened.

Hearing movement in the corner, Spock snapped his attention towards the doctor who appeared as though he was about to protest. Spock met his eyes, trying to relay that he wouldn’t really do it, not here and now, not without a lot more prep and lube. Doctor McCoy seemed to get the message and relaxed back into his seat.

“I’d have to plug you of course, make sure you didn’t leak all over anything and leave a mess. You’d be sitting in your command chair, slick inside with my cum, and even sitting still you’d feel it, holding you open, wishing it was me inside of you,” Spock whispered in his ear.

“No,” Jim whimpered.

“It would be multifunction, of course, and I’d hold the control. In the middle of a conference called, it would just take one little button to make you come in your pants.”

“No,” Jim stated louder as he tried to press back against Spock’s fingers.

Spock suddenly step back, pulling his fingers from Jim’s greedy hole. He watched with amusement as Jim struggled to stay still and not follow those retreating fingers.

Stepping around Jim, he raised his hand to Jim’s mouth and ordered, “Suck.”

Jim pulled Spock’s fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, not flinching at the taste of himself and lube.

Spock’s cock throbbed in jealousy as Jim cleaned the last of his fingers, pulling off with a pop.

“Very good,” Spock said as he turned to pick up the pair of nipple clamps from the table. He fastened one lightly and then the other before returning to the first and tightening it until Jim gasped. He did the same to the other before attaching a short chain to each.

“Not too tight?”

Jim shook his head. “Just right.”

Spock grabbed the one pound weight from the table and attacked it to the chain, watching Jim’s face. It wasn’t pain that crossed his features when Spock let the weight fall.

He led Jim to the A-frame set up at the edge of the room, strapping his wrists and ankles into place before connecting another strap across his back, preventing Jim from lifting his hips. He made sure that the weight hung down between the slats so each movement Jim made would tug at his nipples.

“You may come anytime you want, but you may not ejaculate until I am inside you.”

Jim whimpered, but agreed. “Yes, Trensu.”

Satisfied Spock took a moment to admire the view, knowing that in a few short minutes it would be even better striped with marks from his cane. Turning he went to the toy cabinet that he’d examined earlier and pulled out a large plug, long and wider at the base than the three fingers that he’d had in Jim. It also had a lovely little function that would cause it to expand minutely every time Jim clamped down around it. He set the parameters to an inch wider and two inches longer. He’d asked Jim his limits, but he was in his right to push them, though this was the only one that held his interest. Jim had his safeword if he needed it after all.

Spock put a dollop of lube on the tip and walked back over to Jim, standing in front of him, and holding it up for Jim to see.

Jim’s eyes went wide at the sight, at the size of it. “No,” he said.

But Spock was already moving around him, standing behind Jim’s spread legs.

“No,” Jim whispered as he felt the cool tip at his hole. “No,” he whimpered as it began to enter him, stretching him more and more with its increasing girth. “No, please, no,” he begged as the toy got thicker still and sweat broke out across his body, but he never said the one word that would bring it all to a stop.

“Do you need your safeword?” Spock asked.

“No,” Jim whimpered again, and Spock took it as consent.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Spread wide for me, and you’ve only taken part of it.” Spock leaned forward, kissing Jim’s sweat slicked shoulder. “I want this. I want you open and ready for me. When I’m done, I can just pull it out and slide right in. You’ll be loose and wet around me, your ass glowing red hot from my cane. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” Jim whispered softly, brokenly, but there was no force behind it.

“No you don’t want to please me?” Spock responded.

“No, Trensu!” Jim gasped. “I want you, just not this. Please. I want you inside me.”

“So impatient for me. No, not yet. You will enjoy this.” Spock shoved, sending the last of the thick plug inside Jim, his asshole clasping spasmodically over the thinner base of the shaft drawing it even deeper. As it spread his hole wide, a sharp pain shot up his spine before it settled firmly inside of him, an unrelenting pressure against his prostate. “No!” Jim hissed as he came helplessly with a cry, flushed and shaking before he collapsed panting against the frame.

“See. You enjoyed it,” Spock said, and he pushed firmly on the plug, insuring that it was properly seated, amused at Jim tried to jerk against his bonds. Spock knew that Jim wasn’t feeling it yet, the size increase so minuscule, but it wouldn’t take long before Jim was aware of it.

Spock turned and pick up the same cane that he’d used earlier in the day, now cleaned and sanitized.

“Forty cuts.”

Spock tested his reach, mapping out the first stroke before striking causing Jim to flex and moan softly. The clap of rattan against flesh was music to Spock’s ears, and the blossoming line of red that expertly bisected Jim’s ass set his blood aflame. The next two hits were long and hard, and he held the cane firmly in place, after each, drawing out the pain. A deep flush spread across Jim’s skin, visible even with his golden completion. The next two hits had Jim gasping, his breath hitching with each.

“Breathe, Jim.”

Jim drew in a deep calming breath, and all but melted against the frame as he relaxed.

Good. That’s how Spock wanted Jim, sinking deep into arousal as the pain released endorphins. By the tenth strike, Jim was moaning almost continuously, and Spock had to pause to dig the heel of his palm into his cock to stave off his rising orgasm. He’d never had such a responsive submissive, and deep red welts were already forming so beautifully across Jim’s ass, setting him on edge.

Spock found his rhythm, carefully in tune with Jim’s reactions, having found more than one submissives’ pain threshold over the years. However, Jim was reacting beautifully, submitting completely to Spock’s will, giving himself to the cane and the pain. A trembling overcame Jim, and Spock paused. For a moment he feared that it was too much for Jim, but after carefully examination, his hand wrapped tight around Jim’s still hard and dripping cock, he realized that Jim had had another dry orgasm.

Spock reached down and spread Jim’s asscheeks and Jim sobbed. Spock could see Jim’s muscles fluttering helplessly around the plug, knowing he was finally feeling it, knowing what it was doing, and totally powerless to stop it. Spock slid a finger in alongside it, testing its size. Only a quarter of an inch. Spock was surprised, but by the time he was done it would be full size. Every clench made it grow and the growth created more clenching as the muscles struggled to get used to the new size. It was an endless cycle.

“Good, boy. You’re doing good,” Spock murmured as he moved away.

Setting up for another strike, he cut hard across the base of Jim’s buttock right above where the crease where they met his thighs.

“Trensu!” Jim shouted, body tense and jerking at his bonds.

It wasn’t a negatory. Quite the opposite.

With eight more strokes left, Spock was sweating profusely, and breathing hard from restrained arousal. He suddenly turned his attention to the plug that he’d been purposely avoiding until now, knowing that each hit forced Jim to helplessly flex after each stroke, the size allowing for no relief of the constant pressure tormenting his prostate. He aimed the next two strikes to land on the plug, enjoying the yelps that were produced as the impact that normally was only felt on the outside, traveled inward. Spock knew that each stroke always caused the plug to rapidly increase in size.

The last strokes left Jim trembling helpless, his ass red and heated, welts rising starkly against the surface. Set the cane aside for later cleaning, Spock grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from Jim’s body, and grabbed two bottles of water. Drinking one, he walked around to Jim’s front, seeing his pleasure-blown eyes.

“Are you with me, Jim?” Spock asked as he pushed back Jim’s sweat slicked bangs.

Jim blinked leisurely, and focused his eyes on Spock before offering him a slow smile. He was in a good place.

Spock offered him the water, ordering,” Drink.”

Jim tried but half of it ending up dribbling down his body.

Spock removed the weight from the chain connecting Jim’s nipples clamps, setting it aside. Undoing Jim’s bonds, Spock caught him before he collapsed to the floor. Swinging Jim up into his arms, he carried him across the room to the bed before setting him down in the center.

Jim hissed as his stripped ass hit the bed but didn’t make any more to turn over or relieve the pressure.

With trembling hands, Spock pushed Jim’s legs open wide, exposing the wide plug, holding him open for Spock. Reaching forward, he twisted it and teasingly tugged on it, sliding his fingers alongside side it, stretching his hole, to prepare it for a plug that was wider now than when it went in. He kept it up until Jim’s eyes gradually focused on him, wanting Jim here with him for this. Spock jerked the plug aside with one quick movement, watching Jim’s body resist for one moment before spreading wide and showing red before Jim let out a broken cry, the muscle spasming, and Spock watched as Jim’s balls drew up tight, his cock twitching madly. For a moment he thought he’d have to punish Jim, but was shocked and awed when Jim’s body relaxed, his balls still jumping, but no semen escaped his cock.

Jim was an amazing submissive, cumming dry on his command twice more than he’d ever imagined before. Jim was truly worthy of his attention. Spock set the toy aside to be cleaned later and briefly checked Jim for damage. Pulling Jim’s body down towards him, knowing how the rough bed sheets must be torturing Jim’s abused flesh, he settled in between Jim’s thighs. Jim’s flaming ass rested against Spock’s thighs, heating them pleasantly, and his cock teasingly nudged at Jim’s hole.

A minute passed before Jim whimpered in squirmed, not understanding why Spock wasn’t filling him up, wasn’t fucking him. “Trensu, please. Move.”

When no movement was imminent, Jim wriggled and slowly managed to engulf Spock’s cock, happy to be filled again. Spock suddenly grabbed Jim’s ass, fingers digging into welts, as he shoved in as deep as he could. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

Jim did, and moaned as Spock managed to sink in a fraction of an inch deeper.

Spock moaned as well. It was exquisite, slick and hot. He hadn’t done this in a long time, but felt the need for it now. “Milk me.”

Jim’s muscles instantly clenched down on him, though not tightly, still struggling to regain their shape after having been spread so wide from the toy.

Moving his fingers over the marks he’d created on Jim’s ass, he was rewarded by an increased tightening and soft mews of pleasure from Jim. Good. So good. It had never been so good. Jim was so responsive to everything he did.

Bending down, Spock licked at the mark that he’d created on Jim’s neck, a deep bruise already forming, worrying it with his teeth as he sucked on it as Jim’s muscles went wild around him. Tasting new blood, Spock drew back, enjoying his work. Taking the chain connecting the clamps on Jim’s nipples between his teeth, he tugged lightly at it and then held it taunt, watching as Jim squirmed.

Spock scraped his nail across a particularly large welt and Jim’s back arched, his muscles clasping down around Spock like a vise. Spock bent almost in half, drawing Jim’s cock head into his mouth, his teeth scrapping mercilessly across over stimulated nerves, and was rewarded by a flood of bittersweet come. The first taste was enough to send Spock over the edge, coming in Jim’s grasping tunnel.

Spock collapsed to the side, basking in the aftershocks, taking enough joy in pain, that Jim’s still flexing muscles around his oversensitive cock felt wonderful. He took note of the tears still leaking from Jim’s eyes as he turned them so they were both on their sides facing each other. Their legs tangled together and Jim tucked his head beneath Spock’s chin.

Pulling Jim’s head up, he met his curious eyes. “Thank you, Jim.” Leaning down, he captured Jim’s lips in a soft kiss.

Jim blinked at him in confusion before whimpering in loss as Spock shifted and slid out from him. Spock noted with amusement that Jim was still hard against his hip.

“You’re a greedy little submissive,” Spock said as he fisted his hand around Jim’s cock. “How many times have you come for me?”

“Five, Trensu. Please!” Jim begged as Spock ran his nails along Jim’s flesh.

“Do you think you deserve it?” Spock asked as he tightened his grip.

Jim tried to buck, but Spock held him still. Rolling over so he was on his back, Jim settled between Spock’s legs.

“I want you to fuck me. You can come after I do.” It was a split second decision, an unexpected urge, something that Spock would have never dared to ask a sub from his own universe, but he was sure there was no such negative stigma on such a thing here. He had often wondered on such things, had practiced with toys on his own, and the experience had been just okay. However, Jim was not the first submissive he’d been with that preferred flesh over synthetics.

Jim froze, seemingly startled by the request though not disgusted.

“Use your tongue. Get me wet.”

Jim blinked at him for a moment before sliding down. Spock pulled up his legs, holding behind his legs. For a moment he was sure Jim was going to lick his cock, but Jim just gave it a disappointed look before slipping lower still.

Spock relaxed as the first swipe of Jim’s tongue touched him, sighing in pleasure as it swirled around his anus. He’d missed this, could sit for hours with a submissive between his legs like this.

“Someday I’ll make you do this till I come. Bind your arms and your cock, so you won’t be able to touch yourself, and lock a big vibrating plug in your ass. I’d last for hours, and your tongue would be sore and aching, your face and my ass covered in saliva.”

Jim moaned, apparently like the idea, and Spock groaned in appreciation as the vibrations were transferred to his flesh.

“Don’t tease,” Spock reprimanded as minutes passed and the soft strokes of Jim’s tongue didn’t change, the saliva trailing down his crack and rolling over the curve of his ass to form a small river down his ass.

Jim’s tongue instantly stiffened pushing at the relaxed ring of muscle, fucking Spock’s ass with his tongue, forcing more saliva into him with each stroke.

“Use your teeth. I want to feel it.”

Spock gasped as Jim’s teeth suddenly clamped down and tugged at the rim of his hole, the pain causing his cock to twitch. Jim continued around until Spock’s hole was red and swollen, glistening and wet with saliva.

“Enough!” Spock barked, causing Jim to freeze and look at him uncertainly. “You did well. Lube your cock.”

Jim turned uncertainly, looking for the lube, and moved to rise.

“No.” Spock grabbed Jim’s hand and guided it behind his body to his own cum and lube slicked hole. He sank both their fingers in deeply. “Here.” Spock pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth for a taste, noting how Jim’s eyes followed his movement. “Use as many fingers as you want, but you can only do it once.” He tugged on the chain still attached to Jim’s nipples, knowing that he would need to remove it soon, wishing they were pierced. Jim’s face slacked and Spock noted the movement behind his back, wishing he was able to see how many fingers he had inside of him.

Spock got his answer a moment later as Jim removed his hand and brought it around to grasp his cock, all fingers streaked with clear lube and white cum.

“Good. That’s enough. Clean your fingers.” Spock watched as Jim brought his hand to his mouth, carefully cleaning each finger. Spock would never get tired of watching that. Jim’s mouth was meant to be filled with cock.

Finished, Jim dropped his hand, moving between Spock’s still spread legs.

“Wait,” Spock commanded as he climbed from the bed.

Jim promptly stilled.

Noting that Jim was about to turn his head to follow Spock’s movements, he ordered. “Eyes forward.”

Spock was pleased as Jim did as he was told, knowing that the curiosity would weigh heavy on him.

Spock opened another cabinet that he had not done more than glance at earlier, and pulled out a number of items, carefully examining each one.

Instead of the full arm binders, he finally settled on a set of bicep cuff and wrist cuffs. Both sets of cuffs were made of finally tooled leather, the edges nicely rounded so as to not cut. They would put a delicious amount of strain on Jim’s shoulders and back, and Spock would enjoy Jim’s struggle for balance as he fucked Spock. It would also put Jim’s chest on display, pushing his clipped nipples out in a tempting fashion, one he would not pass up. It would be beautiful indeed.

Spock moved to stand behind Jim who was still kneeing on the bed, facing the headboard. “Arms behind your back.”

Jim did as he was told, following orders so prettily. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that this was the Captain, that he could go from giving orders to taking them so easily. Spock wrapped one strap around Jim’s left bicep and tightened the buckle securely. Sliding a finger beneath the leather, Spock checked to make sure it wasn’t too tight. He repeated the same process on Jim’s other bicep before slowly shortening the length between, carefully watching Jim’s reactions.

Jim’s back straightened tall as his shoulders were forced to curl back, his breathing increasing with the strain. Spock paused as he noticed a slight tremble in his frame.

“Too much?”

“No, sir,” Jim all but breathed, then remembering himself added, “Trensu.”

Spock tightened it another notch then fastened it closed, admiring the deep U as Jim’s shoulder blades were forced closer together. Picking up the wrist cuffs, he buckled them in place, then took a moment to admire the view. Yes, this was something he would do again. He took note of the position of Jim’s hands, how they fell against his stripped buttocks, and he knew how much of a temptation that would be.

“Keep your hands as they are. Don’t touch your buttocks,” Spock stated as he ran his fingers over the heated flesh, feeling the muscles jump and flex beneath them. There were no way for Jim to avoid touching completely without considerably more strain on his shoulders than there already was, and even then it would be an impossible position to hold for long. But it was touching on purpose that Spock did not want, and he knew Jim understood that.

Moving around Jim, Spock resumed his previous position and placed a thick pillow beneath the small of his back. He raised his legs and wrapped his fingers around Jim’s cock, pulling him forward. He paused for a moment as the tip of Jim’s cock brushed against his hole.

“Fuck me,” Spock ordered as he removed his hand. “I want to feel it for days.”

With a thrust of his hips Jim sank deep in one long move, the front of his thighs pressed firmly against the back of Spock’s. Spock raised his legs so that the bend of his knees rested on Jim’s shoulders, offering him a small measure of support while at the same time adding more pressure to his straining shoulders.

Jim paused briefly, trying to get his bearing, obviously worrying about moving in such a position. A hesitant roll of his hips was followed by a more confident one as he realized he could rest his weight on Spock’s legs. Spock took a moment to study the feeling of being filled by a real cock as opposed to the plastics that he was familiar with, deciding that he liked the warmth and give, the feel of a heart beating in him that a toy could never mimic well despite the realness and technology that many possessed.

“Harder,” Spock demanded when Jim didn’t deviate from his short, deep thrusts, reaching up to tug harshly on the chain connecting Jim’s prominently displayed nipples, enjoying the way Jim’s skin paled as it stretched.

Jim slammed forward with a shudder, trying to arch his back, but his bound arms prevented it. Spock pulled harder and flicked at the angry red tips of Jim’s nipples that peaked out from the clamps. Digging his nail into one, Jim mewed and suddenly jerked back, torturing his own flesh, but his hips following the movements, and he pulled back so far that he almost slipped out before slamming back in hard, hitting Spock’s prostate dead on.

“Yes,” Spock hissed. “Just.” Thrust. “Like.” Thrust. “That,” he breathed as Jim set up a brutal pace. “You want me to feel it, don’t you? Want to mark me for yourself? Knowing that when I sit, it’ll be you I feel.” Spock suddenly removed both clamps at once, knowing that the sudden rush of blood into flesh so long without would bring with it a tidal wave of pain.

Jim wailed, hips thrusting helplessly. “Trensu, please. I can’t. Can’t. I have to come. Please let me come.”

“You were given permission, however, you know what you must do first.” Spock enjoyed the agony that appeared on Jim’s face as he struggled to remain in control, his face streaked with sweat and tears and saliva.

Jim’s entire frame vibrated with tension, and Spock’s cock twitched. For a brief moment he considered wrapping his hand around his cock and helping Jim out, but no. This struggle was too delicious to watch. Reaching up, he brushed his fingertips against Jim’s nipples and was rewarded with a hiss through clenched teeth and a particularly hard thrust.

“Look at me,” Spock ordered as Jim squeezed his eyes shut.

Jim’s eyes suddenly sprang open, locking with his.

“Watch me.” Spock knew he was close, each of Jim’s thrusts brushing against his prostate, each plunge just a little too hard, sparking pain and pleasure across is nerves.

He let it build higher, didn’t fight it, and he knew Jim saw it in his face, saw the wonder and passion.

And then Jim’s face twisted desperately in distress, and Spock knew it was too much for him. Feeling Jim’s cock throb inside of him, watching Jim fail, Spock felt his own orgasm wash over him, his come painting across his chest and stomach as Jim collapsed heavily against his thighs.

Spock let his eyes slide close and basked in the sparks of pleasure and pain shooting along his nerves, ignoring the twinges in his thighs as they complained about their position. When he felt small splashes of wetness land on his chest, he finally opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of Jim’s head bowed between his legs, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

Spock rolled them both to the side again and straightened his legs.

“You orgasmed before me.”

“Yes, Trensu.” Jim said sorrowfully, not meeting Spock’s eyes.

“You’ve earned a punishment.”

“I know, Trensu.”

“You will accept punishment as I see fit?” They had not talked of this, and Spock knew that without a contract, Jim was within his right to deny him.

“Yes, Trensu. I accept punishment.”

“You will wear a plug all day. You will not be allowed a cock ring or cage. You will not be allowed underwear. I will have the controls and you will come whenever I want as many times as I want. You will not remove it unless you have to defecate at which point you must clean it and yourself before reinserting it. You are not allowed to clean up the evidence of your orgasms, and must report to me for inspection promptly after your shift. If I decide you have learned your lesson, I will remove the plug and clean you. If I feel you have not learned it, the plug will remain in place until you have.

Jim eyes were lowered, but even so they appeared wide and so very blue in his pale face, and he did not protest. “I’m sorry, Trensu,” Jim whispered.

“I know you are, Jim. However, if you are with me, you must learn that your orgasms belong to me. They are a reward, and I am not obligated to give them to you. Understood?”

“Yes, Trensu,” Jim agreed still not meeting his eyes.

“Jim, I want you to look at me.”

Jim’s eyes hesitantly rose to meet Spock’s.

“I am not angry or disappointed with you. This is new, and like all new things they must be learned. You did well today. There is no reason to be ashamed or upset.”

A weight seemed to rise off Jim’s shoulders and he smiled broadly in response.

“Yes, you were good.” Reaching around Jim, he began unbuckling Jim’s bound arms, carefully moving each and massaging them as he went. When Spock finished, he placed a kiss on the palm of each of his hands, unsurprised when Jim suddenly yawned widely, his eyes heavy as he crashed.

“Sleep, Jim,” Spock ordered, but Jim’s eyes were already closed, asleep before Spock said the words. Turning, Spock gathered what he needed to clean up Jim, and put the toys in the to-clean box.

When Spock returned with the cloth and crème he was not surprised to find Doctor McCoy sitting near a sleeping Jim, fingers running through his hair. However, he was surprised by the lack of possessiveness that the image provoked. He had never been one to share and normally another dominant so close to his submissive—he knew Jim was his, even if not yet in an official capacity—would have set him on edge.

Doctor McCoy did not stop his petting or even look up as he spoke. “I have never seen Jim like he was tonight. I could never take him so deep. Lord knows I tried, but I could never be what he needed. After what was done—I tried to protect him—”

The doctor raised his head, and Spock was startled by the tear tracks on his face, utterly silent as they fell. “You love him,” Spock said, seeing it clearly now.

“Yes, but I’ve learned that sometimes love isn’t enough.” Doctor McCoy signed and he wiped his hand over his face as he shoulders slumped. “I still don’t trust you. There’s too much unknown, but you were good with him, I’ll give you that. Jim will ask for another scene, and I’ll allow it. I’ll be here to watch for as long as need be, and the day he wants to end our contract I will. But you will have one ready and waiting for him, and will not force him into anything he does not want. If you—”

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock interrupted. “If I may?”

The doctor nodded wearily.

“If the time comes that Jim wishes to enter a contract with me, I would not require that he sever yours. Sharing would be agreeable to me. It was my understanding, while uncommon, multiple contracts were allowed at the agreement of all party members.”

The doctor appeared shocked. “Yes, but why? Doms are notoriously possessive.”

“As I typically am. You may not believe me, but the kind of relationship I desired rarely existed in my world. I did not desire a slave that blindly did my bidding with no thoughts of their own. No, I wanted an equal, and I know that I have found it in Jim. However, I find myself caring about his happiness and you seem to be a part of it.” Spock paused, letting his words sink in. “If Jim’s happiness means sharing him with you, I find no hardship in that given your obvious care for him.”

Doctor McCoy gave him a long, hard, searching look, not believing the words, not daring to hope before finally nodding. “If the time comes to it, we’ll discuss it then. All three of us.”

“That is agreeable,” Spock stated as he handed the doctor the crème while he began to wipe Jim down.

The doctor looked him in question for a moment before squirting a dollop in his hands and beginning his rubdown of him.

It was interesting, this universe, Spock mused. He knew he had much to learn, but he could not help but feel that this was where he was always meant to be.

 

Chapter End Notes:

Vulcan:
Trensu = Master
Shi'oren t' Kusut-bosh Sanosh = School of Painful Pleasure


Spanish:
Látigo = Whip

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