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Author's Chapter Notes:

Please be aware that this little One-Shot contains Watersports. This means: The urge to urinate being arousing for the participants and consenquently getting in contact with the urine; there is no ingestion of body fluids.


The doors slid open in front of James Kirk with a soft sound. The light sprung on with the soft glow of 10% illumination; it was a sudden switch from darkness to light – no flickering of the bulbs, no need to charge up.

The green-brown eyes immediately focused on the person cowering next to the toilet. A slow, fond smile spread Kirk’s pale pink lips and he needed to surreptitiously adjust the bulge in his pants before he took a step into the bathroom and let the doors slide shut behind him.

“How are you doing?” he said, voice pitched low and soothing. A shiver went through the lean body of the other man, betraying the fact that he was slowly but surely loosening the grip on his famed control. A white hot spark of arousal went through Kirk at the thought and he took a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm himself, lest he lose the game.

He slowly made his way through the bathroom – his steps heavy and measured. The room was not big, so he needed to make every move count. He felt the fevered stare of those frighteningly intelligent, dark eyes upon his person like a physical caress.

He rounded the toilet and stepped completely in front of the other creature, staring down at the deliciously bound body – and the still pristine, white, dry floor.

“Ah,” he whispered, bringing his hands behind his back, “you’re still holding on. That’s a new record for you. Maybe I should help you out?”

The dark eyes widened a fraction and there was an audible huff of air from Spock’s nose. The slender nostrils quivered and the long column of the Vulcan’s neck – flushed an enticing soft green – constricted with his hard swallow.

“Well? Should I? Answer me, baby. Be a good little boy,” Jim purred, the corners of his mouth curled up into a grin bordering on cruel. Spock’s eyes fluttered closed and his hands flexed in an effort to keep calm. A thin stretch of soft, black rope curled around those deceptively slender wrists and around the Vulcan’s thighs just above his knees – effectively binding them together. A deep, muffled moan forced its way out of Spock’s throat and the Adam’s apple bobbed nearly frantically – not succeeding to hold back the trickle of saliva that slipped out of the corner of the Vulcan’s mouth. His lips were stretched around a red rubber bal that stood in beautiful contrast to his green flushed lips.

“Is that a yes?” Jim whispered and could not refrain from chuckling when Spock’s head jerked from left to right; the Vulcan was broken down enough to actually answer the human way.

‘It won’t be long now,’ Jim thought longingly and took a step closer. Spock’s eyes flew open and he tried to draw back – to close his thighs; but it was hard to manage, what with the spreader bar keeping his ankles apart behind him. The Vulcan was a delicious package kneeling there for the taking.

Jim tutted and got down on one knee, looking Spock over. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on the Vulcan’s brow, his slanted eyebrows drawn together in concentration. His fingers were curling and un-curling, gripping his knees almost desperately from time to time. His chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“You’re beautiful. A beautiful, little treat. But you know how you’re going to be even more beautiful, don’t you?” Jim whispered and reached for the other man. Before he touched anything else, he made sure the simple device embedded in the ball of Spock’s hand was still functional – if the Vulcan wanted to get out of their little game, it would not do for the little chip to suddenly have stopped working for one reason or the other.

However, there was a soft red glow coming through the layers of skin – it was still in tact despite Spock’s vigorous squirming. The game could continue.

Jim let the tips of his fingers slowly travel up the Vulcan’s forearms, circling the grooves of his elbows and stroking the soft, soft skin he found there. Spock tipped his head backwards and emitted a strangled, desperate sound.

“Awww... what is it, baby?” Jim cooed, thumbs gently exerting pressure on the delicate skin. He began to describe slow, little circles. “It’s so hard for you, isn’t it?” he continued in an intimate whisper – his voice was deep and husky. Sensual. Aroused. He had to slightly shift his legs so he would not pinch his throbbing erection that was pressing insistently against the fly of his trousers.

“So hard for my little boy to not wet himself,” he hissed and let his hands wander further up, grip those biceps and press his fingers into the soft flesh and the iron hard muscles underneath. Spock made a full body shudder and tried to curl in on himself – to close his thighs to somehow alleviate the by now doubtlessly painful weight of his bladder.

Jim leaned forward and pressed fluttering kisses around the gag on the stretched lips of his lover and licked at the trail of glistening saliva.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you? Don’t want daddy to help his little boy?” Jim growled, fingertips ghosting over the flushed face. It was cruel – he knew it. Spock was not so far gone as to take him up on his offer. Oh – he was blushing and mewling beautifully behind his gag; but there still was the intelligence, the calculation, the thinking in his dark gaze. He was still too much himself – too much the ever-in-control First Officer.

The Vulcan’s headshake was softer this time, but not less meaningful. Jim took a deep breath, willing his own arousal to subside and cup his lover’s face. He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Alright darling. Whatever you want,” he promised against the heated skin and stood up. He left the bathroom and Spock – once again – in darkness.


When he entered the room half an hour later once again, he immediately knew that the time had come.

Spock was shivering all over – seemingly without his own volition. The sheen of sweat was slicking his whole body by now and his hips were shifting restlessly from one side to the other. His magnificent cock was frozen at a seemingly perpetual state of indecision. It lay half-hard and heavy against Spock’s creamy thigh, rising and falling with the waves of sheer, unadulterated desperation crashing through the alien body.

“Spock,” Jim said softly and the Vulcan’s eyes were hazy and dark when the focussed on him. Jim favoured him with a beaming smile and let the creature watch as he got everything ready – bottles of lemonade and stacks of soft towels and a bathrobe.

Somewhere during his work, Spock had started up a soft keening sound. He was sure the Vulcan was not even aware of doing it by now. When he stepped towards Spock and removed the gag at long last, his lover took a long, shuddering gasp and let his head fall forward, pressing it against the human’s hipbone.

Jim stroke slow fingers through the dark strands of matted hair and petted him through the shuddering shocks.

“Well?” he growled after a minute of gasping silence. Spock shifted his head a little, pressing his forehead against the straining bulge in Jim’s trousers. The Captain let his eyes fall close and bit hard at his lower lip to stifle any sound of pleasure. “Talk to me,” he croaked. Spock made a pitiful sound in the back of his throat and started nuzzling the hot bulge. It strained against its confines and shot a confusing and delicious mixture of pain and arousal through Kirk.

“Spock,” he hissed, fingers tightening in the dark hair. “Talk to your daddy.” It was always hard. Even now this creature – this contradictory mixture of human and Vulcan – was infuriatingly stubborn and clinging to everything he had.

Jim pried the nuzzling head away from his crotch and forced Spock to look up and into his dilated light-brown eyes. “Talk to me, baby boy,” he demanded once again and the Vulcan’s eyes fell close, while his hips jerked forward and a pained moan escaped his lips.

His flush was slowly but surely intensifying.

“I...” he began and licked his lips once. This motion always sent a frisson of unholy heat through Jim – it was so unlike Spock; so absolutely perfect for his pending surrender. “I need...”

“What do you need? Tell your daddy, you dirty little boy,” Jim hissed, husky voice getting rough and barely recognizable. He still held the Vulcan’s head with one hand while he fumbled at his trousers with the other one. His fingers were trembling in his need to get out his swollen cock – when he pulled down his underwear, the thick column nearly slapped his lover in the face.

Spock was staring at it like it was the treat he had been waiting for the whole day. His lips fell open in an almost automatic response and his tongue flickered out to wet them. Jim moaned behind closed lips and curled his fingers tightly around the base of his pulsing erection.

The Vulcan was not kneeling so steadily anymore – by now he was pushing against the hand in his hair with the more and more frantic shifting of his lower body. Pearls of sweat rolled down his temples and his fingers were clawing at his thighs.

“Need your help,” Spock suddenly blurted out. “Need your help, daddy!”

Jim moaned and let his head tip back with his eyes closed for just a second, before he looked down and the pure mess of desperation kneeling bound at his feet.

“You dirty little boy,” he growled, shuffling a step forward and starting to trace Spock’s cheekbones with the weeping head of his cock. The Vulcan held as still as possible, mouth open and panting heavily, while his lower body shifted restlessly and the desperation and need shone from his eyes.

“Please,” he whispered, deep voice wrecked and a shiver going through his body. “Please...”

Jim let his cock wander the straight line of Spock’s patrician nose, smearing it with pre-cum just like he had the aristocratic cheekbone.

“Open wide. Be nice to me,” he hissed, the pain in his testicles nearly unbearable. Spock’s mouth fell open wide, his green tongue lolling out in an effort to make as much room as possible. Jim grinned.

“Good little boy,” he whispered and viciously thrust in. Spock gagged but did not struggle or use the distress signal. Jim stared down at the picture his erection made – flushed an angry red and disappearing in the stretched green ring of his Vulcan’s lips. It felt like he was burning up in the melting heat Spock was providing him so graciously with and his hands were alternating in gripping and caressing the alien head while he pounded into him, brushing the back of Spock’s throat every now and again.

The urge to ram down his lover’s throat – to bury himself in the clutching tightness of Spock’s swallowing muscles – was nearly overwhelming. It would not do in this particular situation, though – they were both too desperate by now. He did not wish to injure his precious boy. So he had to content himself with growling abuse at the Vulcan whose eyes were shut tightly and moaning deliriously.

“Good, dirty little... fuck, you’re so perfect. Little whore. Gonna pee? Gonna piss yourself for your daddy while he fucks your face? You want it, don’t you? Gotta have to hurt so bad... your bladder so full and heavy, isn’t it? Dirty boy. Need your daddy to help you? Do you? Do you?!”

Spock somehow managed to whine around the heavy cock sliding in and out of his mouth and jerked heavily against the bindings holding him in place.

Jim stopped for a second in his almost abusive thrusts before continuing at a slower, almost leisurely pace. He stared into the flushed face of his lover – chin shiny with the saliva he did not even bother to swallow anymore. Spock looked wrecked and broken down and absolutely perfect kneeling there for him and taking everything so beautifully.

A heavy shudder wreaked the tightly strung body and the creature sobbed around the thick flesh in his mouth. Jim took a deep, shuddering breath and stroked gently over the bulging cheek of his First Officer.

“Don’t worry. You’ve endured enough. You’re such a good little boy...” he crooned and raised his right leg slowly, shifting it forward until his naked foot found the taut swell on his Vulcan’s lower abdomen. He exerted gentle pressure.

The reaction was immediate and explosive. Spock ripped away from the cock stuffing his mouth and gasped a litany of, “No! No no no no no. Please not. Daddy, daddy, please not – not here, no please.”

“Ssshhh,” Jim soothed and pulled the thrashing head back towards him, tilting his hip so Spock’s forehead was pressed against his hipbone. “Just let it go. You’ve deserved it so much.”

Spock heaved one tremendous sob and Jim gently pressed just that little bit more – and just like that, all dams broke loose and the nearly clear liquid shot free with almost admirable pressure. Spock moaned in mortification and relief, turning his head further into Jim’s hip while the heavy, hot stream of his piss splashed against his upper body due to the half-hard line of his genitalia. Jim stared with voyeuristic fascination – revelling in the shame and humiliation and desire radiating from his lover. He felt the hot liquid trickle down to his foot still pressing gently on the hot bulge of Spock’s bladder.

Without really realizing it, Jim’s hand curled around the saliva-slick thickness of his erection and started lazily rubbing it while the stream slowly but surely slowed down – no longer splashing up in mindless desperation and coating the trembling upper body, but rushing down over the forcibly spread legs and adding to the quickly spreading puddle of warm liquid beneath the moaning and trembling man.

Jim’s release, when it came, was almost negligible in the face of this utter surrender from his boyfriend. Nevertheless, Spock started nuzzling the base of his cock gently as soon as Jim’s breath started to hitch and even turned his face into the few spurts of milky semen as they emerged.

Kirk watched with baited breath as his release painted the pliant face of his lover; in these moments immediately after the release from the desperate strain, Spock looked absolutely, perfectly beatific.

Jim smiled. He gently positioned the creature into a more comfortable position that would ensue his powerless body to be supported before he knelt down and undid all the restraints.

Spock was utterly silent, watching him out of half-closed eyes.

The human paused just a second, staring at the picture the Vulcan made – totally debauched and pliant, sitting in a puddle of his own making. Jim’s cock gave a valiant twitch and he grinned self-deprecatingly before getting the lemonade and the towels and helping Spock to drink before ushering him into the shower.

The Vulcan was almost eerily silent and had Jim not known from previous experiences that this was perfectly normal, he would have been quite distraught. As it was, however, he enjoyed the silence and calm radiating off of his lover and the way Spock did not even twitch an eyebrow at all the loving caresses and kisses the stoic Vulcan would normally not indulge in.

Jim loved that his Vulcan was not as perfect as all those other Vulcans. He loved it even more that Spock had decided to let him in on it.

Others would probably think they were sick – but who gave even a flying shit about others? He loved what they had. He would not give up on it for the world. He loved occasionally being Spock’s daddy and taking care of him and making him so desperate and frantic he had no other choice but to shut off that big brain of his and to calm down and take a rest.

He loved all of it.

And he loved Spock the most.


Chapter End Notes:


So. I've been frustrated the past days and the words did not want to come properly for my Lessons in Humanity and I've been asked for more daddy!kink and a little watersports and everything culminated into this.

Maybe I'll write more watersports... there are still a few things I'd like to do with it.

Please don't take this story as any kind of instruction.

I hope you enjoyed this little tidbit.



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