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Jim gnawed his lip while his hands flew on the keys as he programmed in the last few instructions – and hit enter.    

As the lines of code scrolled down the screen and the computer’s voice said warmly, “Compiling!” Jim pushed off his chair and went to pull his chai out of the warmer, took a few sips and then went and sank back down in his chair.

            “Programming completed!” the computer relayed.

            “Okay then,” Jim muttered, “Here we go …” and then he commanded, “Begin program.”

            The holo began as it always did, with first just a monotone exterior matrix with the dots spaced fairly far apart, but gradually as the colors ‘turned on’ and the intermediate dots filled in, the subject become more distinct and realistic. 

            “Rotate,” Jim commanded and the Spock-figure began turning slowly.  Jim pursed his lower lip and then pulled on it a bit as he surveyed the construct.  It looked fairly complete now, and certainly with the thousands of digitized video images he’d instructed the computer to locate and attribute to the program, there shouldn’t be too much that would need to be filled in by imagination.

            “So … time to play,” Jim said grinning, and then instructed, “Engage interaction module.”

            “Ready!” the computer responded.

            “Spock,” Jim said, “Look at me, and raise a brow.”

            And instantly, the holoSpock lifted its chin, turned its eyes to Jim’s location and lifted its left eyebrow.

            “Attaboy,” Jim said.  “Now, take that shirt off.”

            And the holoSpock crossed its arms in front, grasped the hem, and drew the shirt off over its head and held it bunched at its side.

            Jim chewed his lip and gazed at the holoSpock’s chest and arms and shoulders, and chest hair, and nipples and …

            “Now, drop that shirt on the floor, and take those pants off.”

            And the holoSpock dropped the shirt, grasped the waistband of the uniform pants and pushed them over its thighs and down to the floor and stepped out of them.

            Jim sighed in satisfaction.  It had taken quite a while, but he’d finally done it.  Just a few commands and he could get the holoSpock to disrobe to his skivvies.  He’d been kinda pissed at how long it had taken to figure out all the little steps that were needed to make the program work, but he was finally in the home stretch.

            Jim studied the mostly disrobed holoSpock and then said softly, “Remove those briefs.”

            And the holoSpock did.

            And Jim leaned back in his chair, opened his legs and began a massage of his already swollen cock through the fabric of his pants.  “Rotate,” he said.

            And the holoSpock’s image began a slow turn.  Jim moaned softly as the frontal view became a profile, and then the profile became a view of Spock’s back and hips narrowed down to the lean ass.  Jim rubbed harder, reached into his pants and pulled his cock out, and wrapped his hand around it to begin a series of slow squeezes.  He watched intently as the slow rotate presented the frontal view again and pumped slowly while imagining how it might feel to get his hands on that cock.

            As the image moved into profile again, he started pumping harder, faster, his breath coming a little faster now as well.  And as Spock’s holoSpock’s ass started to come into view again, Jim groaned and pumped faster yet. 

            “Spock – bend over ...  and spread your legs,” Jim commanded, his voice low and hoarse.

            And it did, and Jim moaned and closed his eyes and felt the pressure peaking, peaking, and began to come.  He whimpered thru the spurts of cum, and imagined taking hold of those hips, pressing between those cheeks, thrusting into Spock.  “Ahhhhhhh!” Jim whined as the pressure finally hit its maximum and his balls emptied.

 

Finally as his breath began to slow, he opened his eyes again.  There in front of him was still Spock, no holoSpock - presenting its ass, displaying it for Jim’s pleasure.  Except that, as Jim stared at it, he felt an anger building.  An anger that wouldn’t be suppressed.  This wasn’t real.  It was nothing like Spock.  The real Spock, the living Spock would never be so passive, never so automatic, never so … accessible.

Jim sighed and said abruptly, “Vid-end.” 

And then he tucked his cock back in his pants and headed to the ‘fresher for a hot shower.  A really hot shower, and after that, maybe some more chai.  Maybe he wouldn’t dream of Spock tonight.  Maybe.

Chapter End Notes:

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