A Matter of Trust
He hadn't liked the look of the man from the very start. Something... sinister about him. Sinister, but weasely, too. Like he was up to no good, but he was a petty sort of man. The pettiness was confirmed when he made some comment about the number of female crewmembers in Security. As if female officers were supposed to stay in Medical and Communications only. Ass.
Now, of course, backed into an empty corner of the ship, smelling his unpleasant musk, and listening to his open threats, the sinister was coming through loud and clear. Sometimes he hated that his instincts tended to be right. "Nevermind how I know, Captain," he hissed. "The point is that I know."
Jim swallowed, but refused to show fear. "You already have a sub, Admiral. You-"
"Admiralty comes with its priveleges, Jim," he said with a smile. He pressed hard against Jim's chest with the palm of his hand, and slowly moved his hand down to the waistband of Jim's slacks. "You just remember what I said. You've got three days. When we reach Starbase 12, if you haven't presented that tight little ass to me, I will expose you, and you'll be removed from the Fleet, Federation's darling or no. Rules exist for a reason, and nobody likes a hypocrite." He smiled again, and suddenly squeezed Jim's dick hard enough to hurt. Taken off guard, Jim couldn't supress the cry of pain. He burned with rage and shame when the admiral laughed. "See you soon, Captain."
His captain was near tears when he finished his story. Bones forced himself to remain calm. Panic wasn't what Jim needed right now, so even though what he really wanted to do was hyperventilate and beg Jim to tell him what they were going to do, he shoved the fear down and gave his friend the support he needed.
"Jim, try to calm down, okay?"
"Calm down? Bones, we'll be there in two days! I've been up all night trying to come up with a plan, and I just don't know what to do! I-"
"Jim, trust me," McCoy said. "I will not let this happen to you."
Jim bit his lip. "Really?" he asked. He fixed him with those shiny blue eyes.
Bones tugged at the leather strap around his neck nervously. He wasn't exactly comfortable with being depended on like this, outside of problems that could be solved by his medical expertise, but he was the only man Jim could dare show this side of himself to, and he made the effort to be worthy of it. He gave Jim his most confident smile. "Really," he said. "I have no idea how in hell he found out about you, but..."
"Dickenson was the only Admiral who didn't want my field promotion to be honored," Jim said. "He's got it out for me, God knows why, and he must have done some serious digging to find out. The moment I decided to go into the service, I was very careful - stayed away from everyone. He had to have poked around way back - early as high school."
Bones scowled. "What a bastard! Dickenson is a real creep. I wouldn't want to see you beneath him, Jim, and I won't let it happen." He was pleased to see Jim truly start to calm down. The kid didn't deserve to have his captaincy threatened like this - not after saving every life on Earth, and every planet in the Federation. "Listen. Just do your thing for the next couple of days. Avoid him, send anyone else to deal with him if he needs something, and I'll let you know what I come up with."
Jim smiled. "Thanks, Bones. I really-"
They were interrupted by the hiss of McCoy's door opening. He prepared to chew out whoever would interrupt him without chiming for admittance first, but the tirade died on his lips when Lieutenant Uhura walked in. "Doctor, I need you right- oh!" She stopped when she noticed the Captain. "Excuse me, sir," she said. "I didn't know he was with you."
"It's okay," Jim said, standing up. "I was just leaving."
She smiled and strode purposefully to the doctor's desk. He lifted his head slightly and she stroked his hair as he knew she would. She pulled his lead off her belt and hooked the end to his collar. The hook snapped onto the ring on his collar with the familiar chink that immediately set his body into the "on" position. She tugged twice, and he obediently stood. "I'll have you back in time for your three o'clock," she said, pulling him toward the door.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "I'd like to talk to you after, too, if that's all right?" he asked meekly. A plan to help Jim was already formulating itself.
"That's fine, pet," she said brightly.
"Thank you, ma'am. Captain, I'll have that issue resolved in no time." She jerked on the collar, and he picked up the pace.
Spock looked up from his favorite scientific journal and frowned at the door to his quarters. Had that truly been the chime? As if in answer to his silent question, the chime sounded again. He frowned. No one visited him in his quarters. No one. "Come," he said sharply, keying his bookmark location on the journal.
The door opened, and Spock was even more surprised to see Lieutenant Uhura's sub standing just outside the doorway. He looked extremely nervous, but he nodded at the sight of Spock. "Good afternoon, sir. May I speak with you privately?"
"Do you have permission to be here?" Spock asked.
"Yes, sir," he said, quickly providing Spock with his personal data pad.
Spock reviewed the form, checking to be sure that it specified McCoy could be alone with him in his quarters, and verifying Uhura's signature before handing the pad back and turning away. "Come in," he said, taking a seat at his desk. McCoy stepped gingerly inside, and stood a respectable distance from the desk, hands clasped behind his back, waiting for Spock to allow him to speak. "Why have you come to see me?"
"I need... Captain Kirk needs your help," he said.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Certainly, if the Captain needed something from me, he could request it himself."
"Well, Commander, the request is of a... sensitive nature, and the Captain doesn't know I'm making it yet." Spock had to fight to control his shock, and even so, something must have shown, because the doctor quickly continued. "I can explain, sir. Admiral Dickenson is trying to blackmail Captain Kirk."
Spock frowned and stood up suddenly. McCoy's face grew pale, and he took a hesitant step back, as well he might. "You take a great risk making such an accusation against an Admiral, and a dominant member of the Fleet, McCoy."
"Y-yes, sir," he said softly. "And I swear to you, I wouldn't take a risk like that without a good reason." Spock looked at him hard for a moment before inclining his head slightly. "Thank you, Commander," he said, relaxing marginally. "Captain Kirk is a good man, and an excellent captain, and... and I believe that you would be willing to help him even if I were to tell you something... unexpected about him."
"Acknowledged," Spock said, curiosity beginning to overcome his surprise. "Go on."
McCoy hesitated, even though he had clearly come to Spock's quarters for the express purpose of divulging this "unexpected" piece of information. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and said, "Captain Kirk is submissive."
Spock was glad McCoy's eyes were closed, because he could not keep the shocked expression from reaching his face this time. He sat down slowly, and gradually forced his expression back to one of impassivity. Unbelievable. That a submissive member should have been able to remain undiscovered for so long - and that he should behave as Captain Kirk did. Kirk was one of the most commanding men he had ever met. Strong, determined, willful - he was everything a dominant officer was supposed to be. How could this have happened?
When he looked up at McCoy again, the doctor was watching him with worried eyes. "How long have you known this?" Spock asked.
McCoy blushed that odd shade of pink that was still so difficult to get used to. "I've known since the Academy, sir," he said softly.
Spock's eyes narrowed slightly. "And you didn't report this when he was promoted?"
"I... he's my friend, Mr. Spock."
Spock let his stern glare rest on the doctor for several moments. Such an answer was unacceptable, but reporting McCoy would accomplish nothing now. Obviously, a more serious issue was at hand. Dickenson must have discovered Captain Kirk's secret. "How was the captain threatened," he asked.
McCoy seemed relieved that Spock had not mentioned his violation again. "He told Jim that he has until we reach Starbase 12 to submit himself to Dickenson, or he'll have him removed from command."
Spock breathed in a deep, slow breath, in an effort to keep his anger from showing. He was outraged that Dickenson would blackmail his captain. He was in violation, surely, but if Captain Kirk had been able to save Vulcan from destruction as he had saved Earth, Spock would like to believe that his gratitude would have expressed itself in his not attempting to extort submission from his planet's savior.
Spock was almost certain of the reason McCoy had come to him, but he needed to be absolutely sure before making a move. "I take it that you assume my loyalty for the Captain will prevent me from simply reporting the both of you to Starfleet Command."
"I hope so, sir," he said, wiping at the sheen of sweat on his brow. No doubt the Vulcan standard temperature, and his anxieties were both contributing to his discomfort. "I'm sticking my neck out here, Commander. I know you could have us both court martialed for this, but you and Jim have become friends - at least I think you have. And you never seemed interested in the Captaincy yourself, so... I... I thought maybe you could just... pretend to claim him. You're the ship's only free dominant officer on record, except for Captain Kirk, of course. If you treat him like he's your sub until Dickenson is gone, he'd be safe. We'll be dropping him off tomorrow afternoon, so it would really only be for a little over twenty-four hours."
Spock raised an eyebrow again. He had no intention of "pretending" to claim anyone. The prospect of dominating Captain Kirk pleased him more than he wished to show. From their first encounter after his surprising and ingenius defeat of the Kobyashi Maru, Spock had longed to take the young man into a private room and rip the clothes, and the smug expression, from him. Naturally, his understood status as a dom prevented Spock from making any advances, but now... Spock turned his attention back to Uhura's sub. "You are very observant, Doctor," he said, generously honoring the sub with the use of his title. "You are correct, I am content with my position as Chief Scientist and First Officer of this vessel. I have found Captain Kirk to be an intelligent, brave and successful commander, and it would be illogical to allow such a capable individual to be removed from the service of Starfleet. I am also aware that Admiral Dickenson has been the subject of more than one excessive abuse investigation in relation to his subordinates." McCoy's eyes widened - he had apparently been unaware of the allegations against Dickenson.
"I will speak with Captain Kirk as soon as possible regarding his options," Spock continued. "Naturally, you will speak to no one about this conversation."
"No, sir." Spock reached for McCoy's pad, and signed beneath Uhura's name, as proof that McCoy had been where the request form stated. "Thank you, Commander, the captain will be so relieved."
"I'm sure he will. You may go." The doctor bowed his head slightly and quickly, happily, left the room.
Jim had lost count of how many times he'd paced the length of his quarters. If the floor hadn't been made of reinforced titamium alloy, he probably would have bored a hole through and fallen down to Medical Bay by now. He turned and stared at his commlink for the nth time, willing Bones to call him and tell him everything would be all right. He had no idea what the hell Bones could possibly have planned, but he knew his friend would make it right somehow.
Like the asshole it was, the commlink remained dark. It was already nearly twelvehundred hours, and he was supposed to be attending a formal dinner with Dickenson and the senior staff in two hours. He'd managed to avoid the man all day, but he couldn't cut out on the dinner without arousing suspicion. The last thing he needed was for crew members to start thinking he was avoiding an admiral, but thought of seeing that bastard again made him sick to his stomach. He paced at double time, nearly making himself dizzy with each turn.
Then, finally, the comm chimed. He practically ran to the screen, then casually switched it on, in case it didn't happen to be Bones. When his first officer's face appeared on the screen, he was glad he'd made the effort. "Kirk here. Is anything wrong, Mr. Spock?"
"Are you occupied, Captain?" Spock asked. "I would like to speak with you in your quarters."
Jim put on a smile, despite his frayed nerves. "Looking to ask me more questions about my unconventional chess technique, eh Spock?"
There was that shadowy, not-quite-smile on his face for the briefest second. "Not exactly, Captain. May I come now?"
"Sure, come on over." Spock disconnected the link after a slight nod, and Jim continued pacing. He'd only made four rotations when his door chimed. "Come," he called. Spock entered, and quickly tapped the lock code as the door closed. Jim frowned slightly, but didn't comment. Apparently, whatever it was, he didn't want to be interrupted when talking about it. "What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?"
That Vulcan almost-smile was back again. "I am here to discuss what I can do for you, Jim."
"Er..." Spock approached him with a slow, but purposeful gait. "What does that mean?" Jim asked.
"Doctor McCoy has informed me of your predicament."
Spock continued to advance on him, and Jim found himself edging back. "He approached me in confidence, and I have honored that confidence, Captain. He has requested that I pretend to dominate you for Dickenson's benefit, but his plan is flawed, and I will not attempt to follow it."
Jim felt his hopes rise high, then fall just as quickly. "If... if you won't help me, why did you come here," he asked, trying to inject as much confidence into his voice as possible. Sub or no, he was still Spock's captain - even if he couldn't seem to make himself stop backing away.
"I never said I would not help you, Jim," Spock said, still stalking toward him. "Your secret is known by an unscrupulous man, which means that others could find it out as well with the appropriate amount of investigation. A pretense of a few hours would be rendered futile, and would result in dire consequences for us both. Your status as commander of this vessel will remain in jeopardy as long as you remain uncollared." Jim jumped slightly when his hand touched the back wall of his cabin, and he couldn't move back any further. Spock came forward still - slowly, inexorably. "If you attempt to ignore Dickenson's threat, you will be exposed, and whatever evidence the admiral has found will be brought to light. Since you went to McCoy for help, I assume you do not intend to submit to the admiral's dominance." Spock was mere inches away from him now. Jim could feel his higher than normal body temperature radiating toward him. "Your only logical alternative," he said softly, "is to submit yourself to me."
Jim shuddered. How could this man make the words "logical alternative" sound sexy? "What-" He cleared his throat, embarrassed at the nervousness he could hear in his own voice. "What about all the time I was Captain without a collar? What if he-"
"Reports you? We will let it be known that I have been your dom from the start, but because of your youth, and the sudden nature of your promotion, you wished to establish a basis of respect from the crew before correcting the error in your Starfleet record, and announcing your status as a submissive officer."
Jim's jaw dropped, and he suddenly felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. A slow, broad smile spread across his face. "I think you're some kind of fucking genius," he whispered.
"You will soon see precisely what kind of fucking I am capable of, Jim."
Jim laughed uproariously at the comment, partly from surprise that Spock had just made a dirty joke, partly from relief, and partly from a new type of nervousness. "And... you don't mind doing this for me? I mean-"
"Mind?" Spock gripped him by both arms and jerked him forward. "I have wanted you beneath me since I first laid eyes on you."
Jim gaped, completely shocked. "You-" He yelped, as Spock suddenly yanked his head back and began vigorously licking and sucking at his neck. Whatever Jim had been about to say was completely forgotten. He couldn't hold back the moans of pleasure and excitement. He was torn between disappointment and relief when Spock finally stopped. The Vulcan looked down at his neck, and an actual, full-blown grin lit up his face.
"I believe we will forego the leather, my pet," he whispered.
Jim felt the heat rise to his face. "What about... when we're on duty? You're my-"
"I will respect your position as the captain of this ship, Jim. But in every other respect, you are mine, and you will act accordingly."
Jim felt the dizzying, but deeply comforting sensation of being commanded by a man he already trusted with his life. His knees felt week, and a moment later, it was only Spock's strong, warm hands that kept him upright. "I... th-thank you, sir," he said in a quavering whisper. "Is sir okay?"
"It is," Spock replied. He took Jim's chin in one hand and lifted his face, gazing into Jim's eyes with a piercing intensity that made the young captain feel as if Spock were looking straight through to his soul. "It has been some time since you have been taken care of, has it not?" he asked softly.
"Almost six years," Jim said, feeling the weight of all that time spent alone like a heavy, suffocating pressure against his chest. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He would not cry - no matter how much he trusted Spock.
He was pulled forward, enveloped in a strong, hard embrace. "Those days are over," Spock murmured.
The sob escaped, despite Jim's best efforts. Dammit! Spock held him in his powerful embrace, and Jim leaned into him, struggling to stop the flow of tears. Spock let him rest there against his chest, warm in the knowledge that there could be no person better suited to fill the void that had plagued him since he decided to follow in his father's footsteps and become Captain of a starship.
After a while, Spock pulled back from the embrace. "Enough," he said, without harshness. "I am hungry for you, Jim, and I will have you."
Without further warning, Spock gripped him by the arm and dragged him to his sleeping area. He was propelled onto the bed with such force that he bounced a good two inches off the bed before settling onto his stomach. He risked punishment by turning quickly to face Spock.
"That is not how I positioned you," Spock said sternly.
"I'm sorry, sir," Jim said breathlessly, brushing away the last of his tears. "But I haven't... It's been six years since..."
Spock's eyes widened. "So long?"
"Yes, sir. I couldn't risk..." He trailed off, looking at Spock worriedly, trying to figure out how to ask him to be gentle without actually saying the words. Despite his years of feeling the lack of a dominant partner, complete submission had never come as easily to him as it seemed to for most other subs.
Spock pulled of his shirt, revealing his well-formed, but deceptively normal looking musculature. Without the slight difference in skin tone, and the facial features to give him away, he would look like someone Jim could easily toss. Spock climbed slowly onto the bed, pulling Jim down easily onto his back, until he completely covered Jim with his body. Jim couldn't keep from trembling, both from excitement and apprehension. "James Tiberius Kirk. Do you freely submit yourself to my authority, entrust your life to my care, and pledge to serve and obey me until such time as I release you from my service?"
Jim felt his trembling increase at Spock's use of the ritual expression. Although there were no witnesses, he knew that whatever answer he gave would be final, to be upheld by his own sense of honor, and that of Spock. He gazed deep into Spock's eyes, wanting to see inside, as Spock seemed to have done to him. He thought he could see it - thought the eyes said that Spock would treat him well. He asked his own question. If Dickenson had never come - never made his threat - and circumstances had lead Spock to ask this question, would he have said yes?
It took only the brief memory of Spock's arms around him, and his gentle assurance - Those days are over - to come to an answer. Despite his fears, Jim smiled. "Yes, Spock, son of Sarek. I pledge to you my obedience, my service, and my life. I am yours until it is your pleasure to release me."
The guttural growl that welled up from Spock's chest sent a shudder of pure pleasure through Jim, which seemed to center itself right between his legs. A second later, that feral hum increased within him to a near-explosive level, as Spock dove for his neck again. This time, the insistent sucking culminated in a slow, painful bite - not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough that Jim knew he would see distinct tooth marks when he looked in the mirror. Jim gasped, wincinig from the pain/pleasure of the bite, and Spock immediately let go.
"Trust me, Jim," Spock said, sending another shudder through him with the breath of his whisper. "I will not give you more pain than you can handle."
Jim couldn't stop the whimper that came to his lips. He nodded. That assurance would have to be enough. Spock reached down and pulled Jim's shirt up and over his head. There was a flash of yellow-gold in his peripheral vision as the shirt went flying. "Arms above your head, my pet."
Jim obeyed, slowly raising both arms above him. Spock stood up and reached behind the head of Jim's bed. Seconds later, Jim's wrists were firmly bound and pulled taught, held securely by the not-quite-comfortable standard issue straps. Spock removed Jim's boots, and slowly pulled his pants off, tossing them away as well. His black briefs were next, then Spock stood over him, taking a long, long look at him. Jim felt himself begining to blush, and fidgetted slightly. A small upward quirk at the corner of Spock's lips was Jim's only clue that Spock liked what he saw.
Suddenly, Spock was on the move again. He knelt beside the bed, brushing his hand lightly over Jim's hip. The feather-light touch made him gasp, and he felt himself beginning to grow hard already. He heard the sound of Spock opening the storage unit beneath the bed. He knew what the unit contained, and he burned with curiosity. What would Spock choose? How much pain would he assume Jim could handle?
Jim's breaths began to quicken, as Spock pulled out various items and set them on the stand beside the bed. He could see them if he craned his neck just so. He had brought out everything in the storage unit - the ball gag, the five different sized plugs, lubricant, nipple clamps, and a variety of rings. Spock picked up the ball gag and showed it to Jim. "We will not need this," he said. "I always want to hear you. Do not censor the sounds you make. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Jim whispered.
Spock dropped the gag, and picked up the clamps. "I do not need these, either," he said. Then, suddenly, he reached out and gripped Jim's nipple and pinched. Jim gasped and strained against his bonds. "I want to hear you," Spock said. Jim released the moan of pleasure, and the quirk of Spock's lips was back. Spock let go, and Jim collapsed against the bed. He was embarrassed by the shaking of his own limbs, and by how quickly he became fully erect. Spock did not comment. He merely took one of the softer cock-rings and put it in place.
Apparently satisfied that Jim wouldn't deflate prematurely, Spock undressed the rest of the way. Jim watched, and his eyes widened at the sight of the naked Vulcan. He was different - in subtle ways that Jim couldn't describe. He stared in fascination, and a growing mingling of pleasure and apprehension. Spock was beautiful. He hoped that whatever would happen would be pleasant, but he was still nervous about penetration. He would have been nervous no matter what size Spock was, but seeing him now, Jim could feel his stomach tightening in anxious anticipation.
Spock shivered slightly. "Computer. Increase temperature to Vulcan standard - Spring." Within moments, Spock seemed more comfortable, and Jim was sweating. This was spring on Vulcan?
A second later, Jim had far more to concern himself with than the weather. Spock climbed back onto the bed and began a slow, measured, systematic exploration of Jim's body with his tongue. He started at Jim's ears, tracing a warm trail that didn't really have a chance to cool thanks to the elevated temperature of the room. He spent a long time at what Jim knew must be his favorite place - his neck. By the time he moved down, there were three more bites, and Jim knew he'd be seeing at least two more hickeys the next day. Spock teased his nipples for several minutes - long enough for Jim to start moving involuntarily - pumping the air with his hips, and letting out a thoroughly undignified whining sound.
Spock continued his slow-moving trail, completely unconcerned with Jim's increasingly frantic state. When he reached Jim's hips, and started licking the sensitive space where leg met groin, whatever modicum of control Jim had left disintegrated. He screamed, and pumped vigorously, growling in frustration when Spock responded by holding his legs in place and licking him even more slowly. "Please," Jim moaned. Spock's only response was to switch to the other hip, carefully avoiding touching Jim's throbbing erection. "Please, please!"
"Patience, pet," Spock said.
Jim didn't try to hold in the whimpers, the moans, the frustrated screaming, as Spock kept his legs still and finished his determined explorations. When he finally stopped, Jim was drenched in sweat, shaking uncontrollably, and had tears streaming down his face. Finally, Spock climbed onto the bed again and slowly lowered himself down onto Jim's body. The hot, enveloping pressure drew forth his loudest scream yet. The sensation was almost too much - after almost six full years spent without being touched by another soul, he felt wild and frantic. Too much. Need more. He struggled to press himself in deeper, gasping and crying, and begging Spock to help him. Spock forced him to move slowly. He pressed down until Jim was completely covered, then rested there for a moment so that Jim could get used to the sensation. When he started to pump at last, Jim lost himself completely. Any shame or nervousness was gone - there was only the glory of Spock's body on his. Only the need, and at last, its satisfaction.
Jim wasn't sure when the ring came off. He wasn't even really sure when he climaxed - every sensation had been electric - every nerve in his body seemed to have been activated by Spock's touch. He realized that he also didn't know when - or even if - Spock had climaxed. He was vaguely aware that this was bad. It was his duty to please Spock, and he could not even remember if he had done well. At the same time, he was too exhausted for his concern to translate into more than a slight creasing of his brow.
When his mind could finally process more than the simple, beautiful haze of relief and exhaustion, he took the effort to open his eyes. Spock. The Vulcan lay beside him, propped on one elbow, staring down at him with something like amusement on his face. "Did..." Jim swallowed past the rough feeling in his throat. Too much screaming. "I... hope I pleased you, sir? I... hope I... wasn't..."
"Hush," Spock said. "Rest. You pleased me immeasurably, Jim. Your... vigor was quite exhilirating." Jim gave him a wan smile, grateful that he didn't have to worry about Spock being disappointed with their first experience together. "There remains only one small task I require of you before I release you."
Jim's eyes snapped open. "Release me?"
"From your bonds, Jim," Spock said. "Not from me." Jim let out a relieved sigh, feeling slightly sheepish about his sudden panic. Spock reached across and picked up something from Jim's night stand. "Look at these, and tell me which you believe you can handle."
Jim forced his eyes to focus, and felt a surge of anxiety at the sight of the anal plugs. There were a total of five sizes. He didn't even feel like he could handle the "A" - the smallest one - at the moment, but he was well aware that the body could stretch to accomodate more than what his own nervous mind would want to try. "I... I th-think the B, sir?" he said hesitantly.
Spock nodded. He put away the two largest ones, then put away the A, and the B. He allowed Jim to watch him generously lubricate the size C plug, then he moved down the length of the bed. "Spread," he said. Jim could feel his breaths coming faster and faster. He didn't move an inch. "Spread" Spock said again. "I command you to open your legs, Jim."
"Please, s-sir, I..."
Spock placed a hand firmly on Jim's thigh. "Jim. I will force you if you do not obey." Jim clenched his fists tightly, and slowly did as he was told. "Very good, my pet," Spock said. "Your fear has increased the size of this instrument in your mind. You can accomdate much more, but we will begin here. Remember. You must trust me."
"Yes, sir." He struggled to relax, but he tightened up immediately when he felt the pressure of the plug. Spock moved with infinte slowness and patience, stroking Jim's abdomen, and murmuring to him to "breathe deeply", and "attempt to relax". Jim took deep, slow breaths, and eventually, he began to calm down. The fact that he was nearly completely exhausted helped, since he couldn't hold on to the physical tension for very long, no matter how nervous he was. Jim was fairly certain Spock had planned it this way on purpose - waiting until he was completely and thoroughly fucked out before working on the stretch. Before long, Spock's hands were gone, and he returned to his position beside Jim on the bed. "It's all the way in?" Jim asked, surprised.
"Affirmative," Spock said. "Did I not tell you to trust me?"
Jim nodded, shifting slightly, adjusting to the feeling of being full. It wasn't as painful as he'd feared - more a slight discomfort that was slowly abating as his body adjusted. His self-discovery was rudely interrupted by the harsh chime of his alarm, followed by the message he'd recorded to go with it. "Dinner with Admiral Fuckface in thirty minutes," his own voice sneered. "Dinner with Admiral Fuckfa-"
"Alarm off," Jim snapped. He knew his face must be bright red when he looked back at Spock.
His keeper grinned openly. "You are like no submissive I have yet encountered, Jim."
Jim chuckled. "Thanks?"
Spock pulled off the straps still holding Jim's arms down. "You will prepare yourself for dinner, but you will not disturb the plug. I will remove it when I deem appropriate, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir." He sat up slowly, continuing to adjust to the fullness he felt each time he moved.
"I do not wish you to be near Dickenson alone. Meet me at my quarters five minutes prior to the dinner," he said. Jim nodded. Spock touched his face lightly, and Jim leaned into the warmth of Spock's hand. "Believe me, my pet. Before we reach Starbase 12, I will deal with... Admiral Fuckface."
McCoy glared at his own reflection, and adjusted his collar for the tenth time. He hated the way the damned dress uniform tunic interfered with his leather. If his appearance was to be regulation, he had to keep the collar visible, which meant making sure that the high neck of the uniform was underneath. In other words, it meant feeling half choked for the next few hours. He was still making adjustments when he felt hands slide around his waist, and a head lean against his back. He smiled and took hold of her arms. "I can try to cut out early if you like," he said.
"Take your time, baby," she replied. She broke away and tapped his shoulder. "Come. Turn."
The doctor turned and smiled down at her. "Like to take a look at your very own stuffed pigeon?"
She giggled and shook her head. "I don't know why you don't just ask me," she said reaching for his neck. Bones only smiled and bent lower so that she could reach him more easily. She was well aware why he never asked - he was hers, and the collar was the proof of it. He refused to show any sign that the collar he was so proud of was causing him discomfort. That, and he knew that Nyota would never really let him go out feeling choked unless they were playing a game. Letting her take care of him from her own thoughtfulness felt better than asking.
Nyota loosened his collar just enough for him to finally feel comfortable in the stuffy shirt. "There. Better?"
"Very much, ma'am, thank you."
She smiled and kissed him. "Better get going."
McCoy picked up his datapad, gave Nyota one more kiss goodbye, then headed out for what was sure to be the most boring dinner of his life. Well, at least since the last time an Admiral came for an inspection visit. He wasn't looking forward to ninety minutes of sitting up straight trying not to offend a paper pusher. Especially when what he wanted to do was inject this particular paper pusher with a large cocktail of some of the nastiest diseases he could think of. In fact, he was pretty sure he could come up with something that would cause the man's penis to fall off without actually killing him.
McCoy walked briskly through the halls toward Jim's quarters. He hadn't had a chance to speak to his friend since he'd come to him in a panic that morning. Nyota had kept him occupied for most of the day, and he'd barely had time to talk to Spock before he had to get ready for surgery at three. The surgery had unexpected complications, and by the time he made it to a comm, it was after six. Jim's comm came up "do not disturb", and stayed that way right up until it was time to leave for dinner.
He made it to Jim's quarters just as the captain stepped out. "Hey," he said, smiling broadly.
Jim's face lit up, and he grinned just as wide. "Hey, Bones! Come on, walk with me. I need to stop at Spock's quarters."
Leonard fell into step beside his friend, and glanced around briefly to be sure no one was near enough to hear. "Did Spock talk to you?" he asked softly.
Jim glanced at him, and his face reddened. "He did."
Leonard was silent for a moment, waiting for Jim to continue, but the captain was quiet. "Jim, I... I hope I didn't... I'm not sure how you feel about me telling him. He's not exactly the friendliest man I know, but I've never known him to be unfair, so I..."
"Bones, you did the right thing," he said with a smile. "He's not going to turn us in."
The doctor allowed himself a relieved sigh. "That's great news. So he's going to pose as your dom to get Dickenson off your back?"
Jim laughed. He looked around briefly before tugging down the black turtle-neck collar beneath his uniform shirt. McCoy gasped at the sight of the darkening bruises, and the multiple, deep red bite marks that covered his neck. He pulled his shirt back up, and laughed again. "Bones, don't look so stricken!"
"But, Jim, I... I never meant for you to really get collared! He was just supposed to do it for show."
"He told me that's what you suggested," Jim said. "But he presented some... convincing reasons why faking it wouldn't really work. If Dickenson could find out, anybody really could, and then where would I be?"
"That's true, but... dammit, Jim, I feel like I lead you from one blackmailer to ano-"
"It wasn't like that!" he snapped. Len cringed, and Jim immediately softened. "I'm sorry, Bones," he said. "But it isn't a better of two evils situation. He didn't coerce me. In fact, whatever it was you said that convince him to approach me, I'm grateful for it. He was good to me, and soon I won't have to hide anymore."
Leonard smiled. "Well, I'm glad to hear it, Jim. It's just... I always thought you didn't have a dom because you didn't want one, but you didn't want to dominate anyone else. If you were willing to submit, why didn't you just... find someone so you wouldn't have to worry about keeping it secret from Starfleet?"
Jim gave him an incredulous look. "Bones, you know you can't just find someone like that! Would you entrust yourself to just anyone?"
Bones lowered his head. "You're right, Jim," he said. "I'm sorry, it was a stupid thing to say."
Bones nearly stumbled from the force of Jim's playful shove. "Oh, cut it out, Bones." Len immediately forgave himself, and shoved back. "All I knew back then," Jim continued seriously, "was that I wanted to be a captain like Dad, and since I didn't have anyone, I didn't want that to keep me from my goal. I didn't want to have to worry about whether, if I found someone at Academy or something, if I would just think of them as a stepping stone to the captaincy, either. If I'd put myself on record back then, and I didn't find anyone before I made it into Command Track, I would have had to either give myself to the first dom who asked, or given up on my dream."
Bones nodded. "But, now you're almost in the same boat, aren't you? You've had to give yourself to Spock to keep your commission."
"That was the catalyst, but it wasn't the reason," Jim said. "If he'd asked me out of the blue, I would have done it. He's..." Len kept his eyes on his friend, and saw the young man's face slowly flush red. "I trust him," he said simply. "We..." He blushed an even darker red. "We made The Pledge."
"You did?" McCoy breathed. Jim nodded, and Bones gave him a wide grin. "Congratulations, Jim! I'm happy for you."
Jim smiled back. "Thanks, Doc."
They arrived at Spock's quarters, and Jim rang for admittance. Spock stepped out seconds later, and nodded to both of them. "Your timing is precise, Jim."
"Thank you, sir," Jim replied. Even though they'd just finished having a detailed conversation about the new relationship, the mild-mannered "sir" was almost jarring coming from Jim. Since he'd been the one to expose Jim to Spock, he still couldn't get rid of the niggling concern that Spock might be taking advantage of Jim. Still, if appearance and body language meant anything, then the broad grin on Jim's face, and the way he tucked himself into Spock's personal space as they walked, even though neither man touched the other, told McCoy he had nothing to worry about.
The next hour was the most awkward and aggravating sixty standard minutes Jim had ever spent. The physical discomfort was really nothing. He was already pretty much used to the way the plug felt, and when he became aware of it while walking, or when he shifted at the table, it served as a pleasant reminder of his time with Spock, and of the certainty that there would be more.
The most aggravating part of dinner was the guest of honor himself. Admiral Dickenson's powers of conversation were seriously lacking. He spent plenty of time criticizing the various departments represented at the dinner, and making not-quite-subtle remarks disparaging Kirk's command abilities. While Scotty, Spock and Bones respectfully, but firmly defended themselves, their captain, and their ship, Dickenson stared pointedly at Jim. He licked his lips, nursed his glass of wine, and basically attempted a series of crass eye-fucking maneuvers that would have been transparent to a blind man.
Jim told himself repeatedly that everything would be fine, and Spock wouldn't let anything happen, but by the time dinner was over, he was on edge. Dickenson lingered in the dining hall so long that the others gave up on trying to stay behind and dish about his assholish behavior. Scotty excused himself from the group fairly quickly. Bones asked if he wanted to grab a drink in the rec room, and after a flash of indecision, he turned to Spock and asked, "Was there anything you wanted to go over right now, Commander?" He hoped that Spock would understand it as asking permission.
"No, sir," Spock replied, seeming to catch Jim's meaning. "If anything comes up, I will contact you through the comm."
Jim nodded, and hastily left the room, feeling Dickenson's eyes following him. He heard Spock bring up some boring sounding administrative crap to Dickenson, and breathed a sigh of relief. On the way to the "pub", as Rec room 4 was unofficially named, Bones launched into a virile tirade about the "slime-sucking excuse for a command officer" they'd just been forced to deal with. Jim joined in, and after some generous lubrication from the pub, they were gleefully joking about the man, and laughing about the party they were going to have as soon as they punted him off the ship.
At some point, Jim received a call from Spock, requesting his presence. "Party's over," he said to Bones with a smile.
McCoy giggled. "Party's just getting started," he said, tossing back his fifteenth shot of Jack Daniels.
Jim glared with as much seriousness as he could muster, which wasn't much. Bones only laughed harder. Jim flipped him the bird and left the bar. He was just sober enough to walk without falling immediately on his ass, or leaning against any bulkheads, but that was about it.
He grinned happily at the late-night crew members, and wondered what Spock had planned for him tonight. He had just made the decision to ask Spock what he thought about trying for Arizona summer, rather than Shi-Kar Spring when a hand grasped his arm.
Jim yanked back automatically, but his reflexes weren't a hundred percent, and he was dragged to a dark corner of the corridor. Jim gasped when he saw who'd grabbed him. "Evening, Captain."
Jim grimaced. That oily voice, and snake-like smile put a bad taste in his mouth. "If you'll excuse me, Admiral, I've been called by my dom."
"Bullshit," Dickenson hissed, shoving Jim back against the wall. "What kind of a moron do you think I am?"
Jim bit back the various responses that immediately came to mind, and forced himself to answer respectfully. "It's true, sir," he said. "I-"
"Bullshit! You didn't mention this supposed dominant when we talked yesterday."
Jim's anger flared. "I didn't mention it because I didn't think it was any of your business, sir."
Without warning, Dickenson slammed his fist into Kirk's jaw. "How dare you talk to me like that?"
Jim clenched his fists so tightly his palms hurt. He ached to slam this man to the ground and beat the absolute shit out of him, but if he hit an Admiral, he would be kicked out of the Fleet before he could blink. "Sir, you are going to make me late. Please stand aside."
Dickenson glared and shoved Jim hard against the wall. "You're lying, and it isn't going to help you, Captain. Either you give yourself to me, or you lose command - it's that simple." He pressed his body close to Jim. Even the copious amounts of alcohol Jim had recently consumed couldn't drown out the sickly musk of the older man. "What's it gonna be, Jim?"
Without waiting for an answer, Dickenson jerked Jim's shirt up, and started searching for the waistband of his pants. "Stop," he hissed through gritted teeth. Dickenson grinned and slipped his hand down. "STOP!" Instinctively, Jim shoved the man back, hard. Dickenson stumbled, but was back again in less than a second.
He slapped Jim hard across the face. "You will pay for that, you little shit!" He grasped Jim by his shirt and slammed him against the wall again, grinding his hips hard against Jim's. "But after I get what I want from you."
Jim felt nausea welling in his gut. He felt his fists clenching again, but before he could strike out, he was startled by what sounded like the growl of a wild animal. A second later, he was free, and Admiral Dickenson was a pale gray blur, flying across the room. "Wha-"
Spock. He was glaring at the admiral, chest heaving, hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. The sight fairly terrified Jim, and the Admiral seemed shaken as well, but he put on a brave face. "Have you lost your mind ?" The Admiral got slowly to his feet, glaring at Spock.
"You attempted to steal that which belongs to me," Spock said, making the calm words sound like a death threat. "I was within my rights."
"Your rights? He's an unclaimed sub, and I had every right to take him."
"Did you not hear me, Admiral? He belongs to me."
"You're in on this lie, too, aren't you? I can have you-"
"Jim," Spock said, turning away from Dickenson. "Attend."
"Yes, sir." Shaking slightly from a combination of rage and shock, Jim approached his keeper.
The moment he was within arm's reach, Spock grasped him by the back of his collar and yanked him closer. Jim pressed close to Spock, thrilled despite despite his roughness. Apparently, the rumors that Vulcans were among the most possessive doms in the entire Federation were not exaggerated. Spock yanked down the neck of Jim's shirt, revealing his personal collar. "I do not need straps or leather cords to enforce my authority," he said darkly. Even though he was in the middle of a crisis, Jim couldn't surpress a shudder at the deep, subtle vibration from Spock's chest. Dickenson was looking more and more unsure of himself, and that pleased Jim immensely.
"This incident will be recorded in our logs, and a full report made to Starfleet Command. I make you this promise, Admiral." The sneering tone with which he used Dickenson's title was much like the tone Dickenson had been using on Jim, but it sounded so much more awesome coming from Spock. "If you ever attempt to touch my pet again, I will break your neck."
Dickenson drew himself up to his full height (which was only about an inch taller than Jim's), but the indignant look on his face was almost half-hearted. He blustered for a second, but never actually said anything before finally stalking off. Jim let out a shaky sigh, and leaned heavily against Spock. The commander drew his arm protectively around Kirk, and Jim felt a warmth spreading throughout his body. No doubt about it. They were right for each other.
"Thank you," Jim whispered, turning to face Spock, and wrapping his arms around Spock's waist. "That was... awesome. You're fucking amazing."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Now that this untimely interruption has been taken care of, you will come as I instructed you, and we will engage in some... amazing fucking."
Even the sudden tingling between his legs, and the completely serious expression of his commander, couldn't keep the uncontrollable, near-hysterical fit of giggles at bay.