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Author's Chapter Notes:

I am...SO...sorry!

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Sarek of Vulcan entered his study in a foul mood. Too long he'd been away and he'd been feigning for the submissive trembling of his favorite slave.

"Abramoff, you useless whelp, get out here and serve your master!" the Vulcan bellowed.

The slide of a heavy chain against the marble floor seemed to echo in the spacious room. A bowed curly head appeared from the shadows, his pale, slumped shoulders bending forth in full compliance. "Yes, master. I apologize for not coming to you at once. I was unaware that it was you who had entered."

"I care not," Sarek groused. "Bend over the desk and prepare yourself."

"Yes, my lord," Abramoff replied, quickly complying with his master's demands. He untied the thin piece of silk that served as his only order of clothing.

He obtained a small, glass container of oil and slicked his fingers, preparing himself in his usual habit, by inserting first two fingers and then a final third, barely stretching himself wide enough to accommodate Lord Sarek's girth. He knew how much pleasure his master derived from the addition of pain, however slight.

"Very good," Sarek whispered darkly. A large hand between the Vorta's shoulder blades pushed his chest to the desk. "Spread yourself for me."

Abramoff wordlessly gripped either side of his ass and pulled outward, revealing the well-trained entrance, glistening with the fresh application of oil. Sarek opened his robe and stepped between the downward V of his slave's limbs. No one else had ever had this slave, and his hole was fitted perfectly to his swollen, Vulcan cock. Soon, he would be too well-fucked and Sarek would have to dispose of him, send him to the guards for their entertainment.

But that would be some time from now, certainly not on this day. With an impatient grunt, Sarek gripped Abramoff's hips and thrust himself in to the hilt.

"Ah!" the slave cried, never having gotten used the Master's rough treatment. It was always a surprise...just painful enough to be distracting, just pleasuring enough to be undoing.

"Yessss..." the Vulcan growled, pulling out slowly then snapping forward, his hips rolling with growing urgency. His slave's channel pulled on his cock, sucked him in with tight, coiling heat and released him with slick friction.

Abramoff knew better than move, despite how badly he wanted to push back, force the Vulcan in deeper...harder... "Please...Master..." He begged instead. Sarek lived to hear those beneath him beg.

With angry precision, his Master grabbed his dangling cock and pulled at it harshly, inaffectionately and uncaring--oh, if only that were true. Abramoff had been chosen for Sarek specifically for his proclivity toward pain. He enjoyed the dry fuck of the Vulcan hot hand pulling on the sensitive flesh of his shaft, dragging his pleasure out of him with every unhinged tug.

It excited Sarek to feel the Vorta harden in his hand, the perfect outlet for a tightly controlled Vulcan Ambassador. "That's right," He purred dangerously, "Take it...feel it..."

"Yes...yes Master..." Abramoff whined hungrily, "teach me...teach me to serve you better..."

The desk began to scrape forward minutely with each hard push of unrelenting cock into pliant, submissive ass. "Just like that...yes...just like that, you fucking pathetic--GUH!!"

Hot, alien come shot off inside of him, and Abramoff howled with his own orgasm as Sarek pulled out and spilled the rest himself all over his sweat-slicked back. Sarek pushed off and pulled the Vorta back off the desk with a firm hand around the back of his neck. He licked Abramoff's face in a show of ownership then pushed him away. "Clean this shit up."

"Yes master," He replied, unheard as the Vulcan exited the room. His Master was always so generous.

Chapter End Notes:

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