The BLTS Archive - The Mirror Universe: Obsession I: Enterprise
by Acidqueen (a.q@gmx.de)

---

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom own Star Trek, I own my brain. No
infringement intended, no money being made.

Author's Note: This story is the third part of my nasty MU series,
which consists of "Tied" and "Revelations".

Acknowledgment: Special thanks to my beta Lyrastar! All remaining
errors are mine!

Archive: My own website, ASCEM, all others ask, please.

---

"He's dead, Captain," McCoy said and pulled the gray blanket over the
corpse that lay on the sickbay bed. "But what happened is medically
impossible. All of his red corpuscles are gone."

Kirk looked down on the body with a deep frown. Then he met McCoy's
gaze. "Do you have the medical data from the year 2256? Of the
Farragut?"

"Somewhere here," McCoy answered dryly. He went toward his office with
Kirk on his heels. When he sat down at his desk and began to search
for the right disk, the sleeve of his uniform pulled back slightly and
revealed the shiny metal cuffs beneath. Kirk's gaze fixed on them
instantly, following their path through the stacks of material. Three
weeks after Sarek's departure McCoy was outwardly almost the same as
before - toward anyone but Spock. Only the cuffs and the hidden lines
of the necklace showed that something basic had changed, and that
something intrigued Kirk.

"Can I get a drink, McCoy?" he asked.

"Help yourself," McCoy muttered absent-mindedly, his concentration
still on the search.

Kirk grabbed the blue Andorian rum and two glasses, which he put on
the desk. Some disks fell to the floor with his actions, but that went
unnoticed by McCoy.

"Drink with me," Kirk said, and poured the drinks.

McCoy looked up. "Uh, Captain," he began, but under Kirk's smirking
smile he wavered. "I can't..." When Kirk pressed the glass into his
hand, he took it nevertheless.

"One single drink, McCoy. For me," Kirk ordered, and raised his own.
"A toast - to old friends."

McCoy looked at the glass in his hand, and then lifted it slowly until
it hung in mid-air. "I... can't, Kirk," he said after some seconds and
put it down again. His gaze met Kirk's in a silent plea. "Sorry,
Captain." McCoy focused on the stacks again, searching hastier now.

"That's quite an insult, doctor," Kirk said in a low voice and leaned
over the desk. It was fun to play with this new McCoy; he was so
easily cornered between his captain's and Spock's orders. And today
Kirk would win. He took the glass and lifted it to McCoy's lips.
"Drink!" And under his stern gaze, they slowly opened and allowed the
blue fluid to flow inside. The doctor gulped, and wetness appeared in
his eyes as the liquid burned down his throat. Finally the glass was
empty, and Kirk took it away. "Thanks, doctor. I hate to drink alone."

McCoy took a deep breath and then hastily got up and turned towards
the drawer in the rear of his office, where he searched through other
piles of disordered stacks. His movements were becoming visibly more
erratic.

A small smile played around Kirk's lips. This moment was as good as
any, he decided, and silently walked around the desk. The doctor
didn't hear him until he was standing right behind him, and so McCoy
startled to his touch.

"You're quite a sight," Kirk whispered. His hands fixed on the small
of McCoy's back, and with a victorious feeling he noticed the
increased breathing and the shifting stance of his victim's body. As
if pulled by invisible strings, the legs opened farther to the sides,
and the back bent, allowing better entrance. The hands on the walls
shifted to the sides too, stabilizing the body for the upcoming
action. Kirk marveled on this sight, and he felt his penis stiffen
when he pressed his groin to the slim buttocks in an unambiguous
gesture. "Spock's a very lucky man," he murmured, tightening his hold
around the other one's waistline. Under the fabric he felt the
chastity belt, and the thought of that kicked his arousal further.

"Don't, Kirk," McCoy gasped, but the words lacked real resistance.
"He'll know..."

"Only if you tell him," Kirk replied and let his right hand travel
upwards until it found one of the enhanced nipples. The body in his
grip shivered when he rubbed over it through the shirt.

"You don't understand," McCoy said, now more insisting. "He feels
everything I feel."

Kirk pressed his chest hard down the doctor's back, forcing him to
bend deeper. "You mean, he's getting as horny as you already are,
McCoy?" he murmured into his victim's neck, and just reached around
for the trouser fly when the door opened to the rear.

"Captain."

The single, sharp word cut through the room, and Kirk instinctively
pulled back from McCoy, taking a deep breath. Then he turned around.

"Mr. Spock. I think I know what has killed the crewman. It's the same
creature that killed two hundred people on the Farragut," Kirk said in
his command voice. Then he let his gaze travel over the room with open
distaste. "Unfortunately, the doctor is not able to find the report in
his chaos. It's your job to see that the ship is run optimally, Mr.
Spock. You better take care of this department, or I'll see to it."
Straightening his shirt, Kirk stepped towards the door. For the
fraction of a moment they stood chest to chest, dark eyes meeting
brown ones, and then the Vulcan stepped back and allowed him to leave.
Behind Kirk's back, the door closed and locked.

---

McCoy still stood on the wall, motionless. Behind him, the steps drew
nearer - ---he--- drew nearer. A warm hand rubbed over his lower back
where only moments before another had lain. "You've drunk alcohol."

"I -"

"Be quiet," the order came. "You've drunk alcohol. You've let yourself
be touched by him and complied with his actions." A second hand
touched his body, gliding down his chest. "It seems that I have
disregarded some aspects of your training, my mate." An arm reached
out and touched the metal cuff on his left wrist. The integrated hook
appeared, and McCoy tensed in expectation. On his other wrist, the
same took place. Then Spock pulled him to stand, still with his back
to him. McCoy felt his arms folded behind his neck and the cuffs
locked together and to the necklace. Heat crept up his body and
unfolded in his brain, covering his worldview with the single wish of
obeying the Vulcan. When Spock turned him around, he held his breath
as he met a smoldering gaze.

"We will talk about discipline tonight, my mate. For now, I will take
my pleasure in you, to remind you to whom you belong." The Vulcan's
fingers glided along the stretched upper arms to the armpits and back,
then up to the wrists that were chained behind the human's neck. There
they closed around the arms in an unyielding grip and forced McCoy to
his knees. He gasped when he landed on the floor. In front of him,
long fingers opened black pants, releasing an erect cock into freedom.

"Satisfy me," the order came. He obliged, licking and sucking the hard
member, caressing the glans with his tongue, pulling back and forth
and rubbing over the double ridge.

Suddenly Spock drew back and pulled him up in his folded arms. Turning
him around, he pressed him on the table so that the stacks of disks
and papers fell down to the floor. He opened McCoy's pants and shoved
them down to knee level, then pressed the buttocks to the sides as far
as the belt allowed. McCoy moaned when he felt the penis entering his
opening, knowing that Spock wouldn't give a single thought to his
comfort now. His chest was pressed on the desk with every forcible
push, and after only a few moments the Vulcan climaxed. McCoy winced
as he felt the penis leaving him, his own arousal left unanswered. The
trousers were pulled up and closed, and then Spock yanked him away
from the table and down on his knees again. Fixing his eyes on Spock's
clad groin, McCoy felt the cuff connection opening, but didn't dare to
move his aching arms.

With a quick movement, Spock shoved him around and full-length down
onto the clutter of disks and documents. His face hit a padd and from
that slipped down onto some disks. Then he felt a boot on his back.

"You have until 2100 to clear these up and arrange them according to
their contents. I will personally check the office then. If you fail,
the booth will be your bed tonight. Understood?"

"Yes," McCoy whispered.

"I did not hear you, doctor." Spock's voice lowered a fraction in
volume, while the weight on McCoy's back increased, leaving his lungs
without air.

"Yes, sir, I understand, sir," McCoy pressed out.

The weight left, and steps trailed off. When the door had closed
behind them, McCoy began to breathe again.

---

It was already 2200 when Kirk left the bridge and hastily went to his
cabin where he switched on the viewer of the tantalus device. Maybe he
was lucky and would get another porn show by Spock and McCoy - it was
the right time for it, considering the order he had given that
afternoon.

It was a pity that Spock had interrupted them, Kirk reflected as he
changed into off-duty clothes. He hadn't been that near to McCoy since
the night when he had given the drugged doctor over to his Vulcan
officer. McCoy's blowjob hadn't been bad even then; but today, Kirk
was sure, Sarek's lessons had enhanced the doctor's technique further.
The memory of T'Opal's experienced ministrations was barely clouded by
the knowledge that she had used the contact to gather information from
his mind. Ignoring that possibility had been his own oversight - he,
of all humans, should know what Vulcans are capable of.

Spock's room was still empty, and Kirk went over to his cupboard to
fetch a glass of red wine, looking over the padds on his own table
with a frown. He should work tonight, but the show in the viewer over
the last three weeks had been too good to switch off. He tried to warm
up Marlena for some of the Vulcan's games, but she wasn't the real
submissive kind. That she was with him was to share some of his power,
not to feel his power over her.

He sat down and sipped at his wine in thought. Somehow her position
had strengthened over the last months. She had a vast knowledge of his
activities and even of the Tantalus device, and he wasn't quite sure
that she wouldn't use it against him. Maybe he should get rid of
her...but then, she was a good fuck. Though maybe not as good as the
one he could see on the screen right now.

McCoy had entered Spock's quarters, and as soon as the door had closed
behind him, the doctor began to drop his clothes, folding them neatly
onto a chair. No comparison to the man who had such chaos in his
office. In Spock's quarters, Spock ruled with a tighter regime than
Kirk would ever be able to instill on the Enterprise. The man on the
screen was peeling off the last piece of fabric, and all he wore now
was the necklace, the metal cuffs, and the golden belt that shimmered
around his waistline and between his legs. Kirk felt his own penis
jump at the sight and hastily turned his chair around to face the
viewer. He sat down and put his feet on the table, opening his pants
in expectation. It shouldn't take long for Spock to arrive.

---

McCoy began to prepare a spicy Vulcan stew with the synthesizer. The
new tidiness in his office had satisfied the first officer - the meal
would satisfy his mate likewise, hopefully. And this was his foremost
duty. Spock had been right to punish him this afternoon...how could he
behave like this, let Kirk come so close? He didn't understand
himself. Spock was the center of his thoughts, of his all craving. He
felt content, more than he had done in the past, and protected and
secure, something that usually didn't happen on ISS ships.

The door opened behind him, and he moved to turn.

"Stay as you are," Spock said, and McCoy froze with the food in his
hand. "Place it on the table," the Vulcan ordered. From behind, hands
closed around his body, caressing his chest. A warm body pressed on
his, layers of clothes wrinkling between them. Lips closed on his neck
and then traveled down to his shoulders, making him shiver under this
soft touch. A small moan escaped him as Spock pulled him closer,
grinding a formidable erection against his ass.

"This smells like kahm-bar-kas," Spock whispered into his ear. Fingers
rubbed over McCoy's nipples, shifting the implants rhythmically.

"It - is," McCoy gasped. His body melted under the arousing,
unexpected impact.

"A pleasant surprise," Spock said in a low voice, but he didn't seem
the least inclined to eat, McCoy noticed dazed. The Vulcan pulled him
around and lay him down on his back on the table right between the
meal and the plates. Then Spock lifted his legs into the air parallel
to his chest. He reached around the thighs and massaged flesh and
muscles with strong but painless grips. McCoy's breathing became
erratic when one hand finally traveled into his cleft, rubbing over
his orifice. With the other hand, Spock opened his trousers and
released his penis. It was already enlarged and wet from pre-cum, and
he rubbed it over McCoy's entry teasingly.

"Oh yes," McCoy gasped and tried to shift his body towards him.

"You are insatiable, my mate," Spock said, but disappointed McCoy by
not following his hint. Instead he massaged the human's muscles
further, up the buttocks and then up the sides of his chest,
methodically clamping and releasing the flesh. It was incredibly
relaxing and arousing at the same time, drowning McCoy with a warm
wave from within.

"Please, Spock..." he moaned, and reached out for him, closing his
hands around the Vulcan's upper arms.

Spock let his long fingers glide along McCoy's arms almost lazily,
mirroring his caress. "This time is for you," he said softly. "A gift,
my mate."

Unexpectedly he closed his hands around McCoy's upper arms and pulled
the human up from the table, carrying him over to the sleeping area.
There he lay him down on the cushions and blankets.

"Don't move," Spock said. "Close your eyes."

The world went dark as McCoy complied, trembling from tension. Hot
lips wandered over his body, along his chest and arms. They sucked at
his fingertips and returned to his neck and down to his hips,
manipulating every nerve ending of his naked skin until he shivered in
arousal. He didn't understand why his mate gave him such a gift
tonight, but he welcomed it, drinking in the caresses.

Somewhere in his hazy world of pleasure he finally felt Spock rolling
him on his side and shifting his upper leg to the front to gain free
entry. It happened all so incredibly slow, the penis entering him from
behind in fractions of inches, but he knew better than to move. All he
did was broadcasting a speechless plea, begging for more, begging for
release.

It was time, Spock thought and reached around to touch the human's
face. The bond opened fully and his thoughts drove into the chaotic
mind of his mate just like his penis drove into the stretched anus in
front of him. The human gasped at the double impact but didn't move.
What a pleasure this was, Spock thought as he pounded fast in a
regular rhythm.

For three weeks now he had tried to find a way to loosen McCoy's
conditioning without returning to their former situation, but the
human was either completely subdued or completely resistant, as was
his original nature - and somehow Spock found obedience much more
pleasing. Seeing McCoy with Kirk today had finally sealed his
decision; McCoy was his alone, and he would do anything to ensure that
it would stay this way. What he was about to do now was only the first
step in this direction.

He kept his ko-adun at the edge of orgasm until the human's control
slipped and McCoy writhed, meeting his strokes with his own body,
pushing back at him. He allowed him to do so, taking pleasure in the
human's help to close the next link in his chained existence.

// Spock... // Another plea sobbed in the blazes of arousal that
filled their joined minds.

// Soon, // Spock sent soothingly, and pushed a last time, letting his
own orgasm rush in and submerging his sperm deep in the human's body.
McCoy trembled and moaned in his arms, pleading for release. And he
would give it to him.

// Come for me, // Spock thought in a whisper, his mind's control
weaving the final knots to tie his mate's pleasure to his orders.

The human's body tensed against him, back to chest and ass to hips,
and the climax swept through their minds like a breaching wave,
staying with them until the last contraction ebbed in McCoy and he
relaxed in the Vulcan's arms. Spock reached down to pull up a blanket
without withdrawing from him. Bending forward he put a kiss on the
round earlobe, tasting the saltiness on his lips.

"Thank you, Spock," McCoy murmured drowsily. "Master of my heart..."

"My one," Spock whispered, stroking some errant strands out of the
way. McCoy would look good when his hair had grown a few months more.
"I will eat now. You can sleep, if you want to." He pulled his
softened penis out of the warmth and left the bed.

---

In his room, Kirk turned off the viewer of the Tantalus device when
his door chimed.

"One second," he barked and hastily cleaned off the remains of his own
climax with a towel. Then he stood up and closed his pants before he
unlocked the door.

"Hello, Captain," Marlena purred when she was in his arms seconds
later.

"Marlena," he murmured and kissed her. Her body molded to his, and a
small gasp escaped her. Burying his hands into her hair, he bent her
head and deepened the kiss, probing his tongue into her mouth. She
writhed under his assault, and he caught her wrists and pulled them
into her back, forcing her even closer. Finally she could escape and
moved away from him.

"Did you watch them again?" she said caustically.

"None of your business, Marlena," Kirk said. "But you are my
business." He captured her again, holding her against the wall and
forcing his knee between her legs. "Just do what I want, dear," he
murmured and nipped at her throat with his teeth.

"I'm not a brainless plaything, Jim," she growled and tried to wiggle
out of his arms.

"That's okay," he said. "Just obey me, it's easy." He smiled at her,
an intentionally dangerous smile.

Marlena looked at him and finally gave in. "Okay, Jim."

"Fine," he said, and released his grip. "Come with me."

They moved to the bed where he hastily removed her clothes, his mind
rotating around all the things he could do with her... He would take
her like Spock had taken McCoy tonight, he decided and rolled her on
to her side, teasing her anal entry with his finger. She flinched at
his touch.

"Jim, damn, what are you up to?" she gasped and would have rolled off
the bed, had he not once again closed his arms around her.

"I'll take my pleasure in you, sweetie," he said, pressing his
erection into the crack of her ass. "Stop resisting me, you're
spoiling our game."

"That's not my game," she growled in open anger and kicked out with
her legs.

"Oh, I'll teach you what our game is," Kirk said and held her closer,
rolling her on her stomach to force her down with his weight. "I
wonder how I'll make you behave. Ten with the whip would be a good
start, I guess." She fought under him, gasping for air.

"Yes, ten with the whip should do," he repeated. He pulled one of her
arms at her back and blindly reached out for his nightstand, grabbing
the handcuffs he had borrowed from the ship's security.

Marlena caught his movement out of the corner of her eye. "Stop this,"
she moaned. "Fucking stop this. You're mad, Jim."

"Oh, if this is madness, it sure feels good." He laughed coldly and
turned her around, trying to catch her hands. The first cuff closed
around her left wrist. "Fight if you want," he stated and bent down
over her, kissing her neck. "It turns me on even more. I'm gonna tie
you up and fuck your brains out, Marlena."

But she caught him by surprise when she rammed her nails into his
crotch, and he gasped in pain. She freed herself from under him and
jumped toward the door, her clothes hanging in strips around her
almost naked body and the handcuffs dangling from one wrist.

"Go and fuck him if you want, but not me anymore!"

The door opened and she disappeared into the corridor.

"Fuck yourself," Kirk snarled and threw a bottle of gin after her. It
hit the door and rolled across the floor, its plastic nature not
giving him the pleasure of hearing shattering glass. "I'll find
another girl who'll please me. There are enough whores on this ship
who'd love to submit to their captain."

He pulled himself up and dropped the rest of his clothes. His anger
only pushed his arousal further - lord, how he wanted to fuck McCoy.
And he would get him, soon. He switched on the Tantalus viewer,
wallowing in the view of McCoy's bare ass as Spock prepared the doctor
for another round and seeking orgasm in the fantasy of being in the
Vulcan's place.

---

Spock was awake long before the alarm, the lightly snoring human in
his arms and a warm feeling inside of him. Possession obliges, an old
saying went, and he would fulfill his responsibilities by caring for
and protecting his mate. Last night he had taken one more step by
tying McCoy's orgasm to his control, and from today on he would also
proceed according to the traditional training rules. Even the tight
conditioning of a pleasure possession could weaken if not steadily
refreshed, and so it would be his duty to keep it up and deepen it
further.

He traced one round eyebrow with his fingertips, following its line
from the top of the nose over the closed eye down the cheeks. His
fingers came to rest on the light-red lips, and carefully probed into
the mouth. It automatically opened to him and allowed his fingers free
entrance. The human sucked on them lightly, mumbling something
unintelligible. It was so arousing, Spock thought, almost too good to
be true. Between his legs he felt his penis stiffen. He knew that his
people had a reputation of being insatiable, but he had never before
thought that it would be his nature too. But here, with the mate who
could not deny him a thing, his body demanded more and more, wanting
and needing release at least twice a day.

Deciding on his morning pleasure, he took his fingers away and pulled
the human's body around, aligning them face to face and pressing his
penis between McCoy's slim thighs. His other arm took hold of the
human's hip, holding it steady as he began to move, rubbing his
captured cock between the warm legs.

"Spock," the human said sleepily but joined his movements, clamping
the thighs together to increase the friction.

"My one," Spock murmured. He kissed him gently, sealing their lips
together while he increased his rhythm. It didn't take long before
climax claimed him and he pressed forcefully into the tight cave for
some seconds before he withdrew.

McCoy shivered in his embrace, gazing at him through half-closed lids.

"What do you want?" Spock asked softly. "You can tell me freely, my
mate. I just will not promise that your wishes will be fulfilled."

"Can I have an...orgasm?"

Spock gave him a small smile. "Being in a good mood this morning, I
will grant you this wish." And it would also be the perfect test for
the new conditioning.

He moved lower on the bed until his lips centered on one nipple. He
licked over it, evoking a moan from the human. "Yes, I will grant it,
but I will do it my way."

Reaching around with his arms, he took the human in a tight grip
before he began to assault the nipple in earnest. The body shivered
and bucked and tried to wiggle away, but his lips kept their place.
The implant danced under the skin, massaging the sensitive nerve
endings until McCoy trembled from head to toe. Spock had made him
climax like this already twice last week, an intriguing possibility
for lustful torture because it took the human so endlessly long to
come like this.

"Oh please, Spock," the human gasped ten minutes later. The gasping
changed to sobbing when Spock licked further, keeping the stimulation
at the level of climax. He would be able to go on forever without
McCoy coming. But for now it was enough, as they had to be on duty
soon.

He released the swollen nub and lifted his head. His mate's eyes were
open fully now, the features tensed in despair. "Don't stop, please,
don't stop," McCoy pleaded weakly.

Spock climbed up, meeting him face to face again and caressing the
cheek. "Sweet tortures for you, my one," he whispered and kissed him.
A muffled groan came as answer. He smiled as he let him loose, knowing
it was time.

"Come for me," he said softly, and in his arms his ko-adun instantly
arched against him, freezing in tension for a long moment before
slacking again. He held the human close for a while, inhaling his
pleasant smells.

"Thank you," McCoy finally whispered into his neck.

"My pleasure," Spock replied, and it was the truth.

---

Two evenings later McCoy was as usual preparing their meal when the
door opened to reveal not only Spock but another crewmember that McCoy
had seen only once before during her first checkup in sickbay. He had
even forgotten her name.

"This is yeoman Eliree," Spock presented the lean Orion girl and
answered his unspoken question. "She will take care of your cleansing
routines from now on. You will obey her on this point as if it were
me."

McCoy flushed deeply as she looked over him in barely hidden
curiosity, visibly taking in the metal equipment on his otherwise nude
body.

"Come closer, my mate," Spock ordered.

He obeyed with hesitation, forcing himself forward against the feeling
of humiliation that wanted him to turn away.

"Cleansing...?" he asked in a low voice as he stood before them.

"I decided that a thorough daily cleansing in the morning would be
preferable, but I lack the time to address it," Spock replied. "For
this, I chose yeoman Eliree."

McCoy swallowed hard. "Spock, is that necessa -"

Spock waved, cutting off his words. "It is my decision," he said
sharply. "And now I will introduce her to her duties. Go to the
bathroom, we will follow shortly after."

Dropping his head, McCoy retreated as ordered.

---

Eliree looked after the doctor whom she had seen only at her first
health check, and somehow she failed to connect the memory of the
caustic CMO with this submissive man.

"Do you want to withdraw from the position of my yeoman?" Spock asked
at her side. She turned her head to look at him.

"I...don't know," she replied honestly, and took the chair the Vulcan
offered her.

He sat down opposite her, putting his folded hands on the edge of the
table. "I chose you because you are familiar with slavery," he said.

"Of course," she replied, and added dryly, "I am an Orion woman -
that's close enough to slavery to make me go on the run. But I've
never encountered someone who is powerful in normal life and...subdued
like this in privacy."

"In my society such unequal relationships are not unknown," Spock
replied. "Although he is not legally my possession as a slave would
be, he is under my control and protection. This does not influence his
daily work, as his submissive attitude is solely directed toward me."

She nodded slowly. "I think I understand. I just don't know if I can
manage this double-thinking. What if I get wounded and end up in
sickbay?"

"Then your only thoughts will be about his expertise, I can assure
you," Spock said simply.

Eliree played with the glass without drinking, then looked up at the
First Officer. "Do I have a choice?" she asked, encouraged by his
behavior. "If you want me, you'll get me."

Spock leaned back. "I could order you, but there is a high probability
that you will not fulfill it adequately if it is not to your liking.
So if you consider yourself unable to handle the situation - and him -
you had better leave now."

She took a deep breath, juggling pros and cons for a moment and
finding that the pro of being in the privileged position as the First
Officer's yeoman outweighed any reluctance she might have about
dealing with his lover.

"I accept," she said.

"I am pleased," Spock replied. "Let me introduce me to your duties,
yeoman," he said and stood up to open the bathroom door. "After
you..."

---

A week later Spock watched the two like every morning - the yeoman's
efficient movements as she blindfolded McCoy, chained his arms up in
the shower and opened the belt to clean him thoroughly, and the
beautiful sight of the shiny, hairless body of his ko-adun. Not that
the daily procedure was medically necessary, but the regular
experience of helplessness facilitated the human's submissiveness
further.

The cleaning was done quickly, and the yeoman closed the belt again
and was about to free McCoy as Spock stepped near.

"Wait a moment, yeoman," he said and gave her a plug with an extended
metal base. "Insert this." She gave him an irritated look, but then
went down to do as ordered

McCoy tilted his head, an unvoiced question in his features. Centering
his fingers on the human's temple under the soft fabric of the
blindfold, Spock entered a meld.

// What - // McCoy thought and then tensed as the plug was slowly
pushed inside, filling him.

// I want it, my one, // Spock sent over, and he felt the human's
small resistance wavering and finally vanishing at these words.

// As you wish, // McCoy replied formally.

// Indeed, // Spock thought and withdrew from the direct mind contact.
He kissed his love deeply, ravishing the cooler mouth with his tongue
- a very human way to convey his feelings, but one he had learned to
cherish. McCoy answered the kiss, and his breathing became labored at
it.

Spock pulled back and walked around to the still kneeling yeoman who
waited for his next order. "Reach under the belt. You will find a
small button at the right side. Press it with your middle finger."

Eliree obeyed and, with a very small hiss, the mechanism locked,
keeping the plug immovably in place.  She looked up at the Vulcan.

"The locking mechanisms is now imprinted to my and your fingerprints,"
Spock said. "Only we will be able to remove this installment."

He could feel McCoy tense at his words again as the human realized all
the implications, but it didn't change Spock's mind in the least. The
Vulcan stepped back, letting the yeoman release McCoy. Minutes later
she left, and when the door had closed behind her, McCoy fully met
Spock's gaze.

"I...I don't know if I can go on duty like this," he said, his voice
wavering.

"You will adjust," Spock said firmly.

"What if I have to go to the toilet?" McCoy asked.

"You will call me or if I am impeded, you will call her."

"And if you both are impeded?"

"Then you will wait," Spock replied sternly, determined to end this
debate. But he could see that his ko-adun was still unconvinced, and
so he sat down on the edge of the bed, signaling McCoy to kneel down
in front of him. He put his hands on the pale shoulders and met the
human's eyes.

"This is no punishment - in fact, you can see it as protection as
nobody will be able to take advantage of you anymore. But the main
reason for it is that it is my wish that you wear it. You are mine,
and I do not want you to forget that for one single moment."

McCoy lowered his head. "Then I thank you, master of my heart, and ask
forgiveness for my doubts."

"Granted," Spock said, and stroked the still uncombed brown hair.
Another link in the chain, he thought in satisfaction.

---

"Wait for me," Kirk called out as he saw Spock and McCoy step into the
turbolift, and ran after them, his bodyguards in his wake.

"Good morning and thanks," he said, and Spock released the hold
button. The lift closed and went up and for a moment they stood in
silence, their bodyguards in the background like statues. Kirk
cautiously gazed at McCoy - the doctor looked somewhat uncomfortable,
which made the captain wonder what he had missed this morning in the
viewer. Spock, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as he had ever
seen him. It seemed to be the right time to fix their working
relationship that had taken distinct damage from the incident in
sickbay a week ago.

"Lunch with me today, Mr. Spock?" he asked nonchalantly.

The couple exchanged a brief glance and, seeing rejection in Spock's
face, Kirk decided to push a bit.

"We need to talk about the Terilai mission, and I'd prefer to combine
that with my meal," he said. 'I could make it an order,' his eyes
conveyed, and his first officer understood.

"Lunch would be acceptable," the Vulcan replied emotionlessly. The
lift stopped at the second deck, and McCoy hastily left them for
sickbay with a wordless nod. The door closed, and Kirk and Spock were
lifted farther, their gazes locked in tense silence. It was getting
uncomfortable, Kirk found and was happy when the ride ended at the
bridge. But on stepping out he tumbled into Marlena, and the coffee
she had held spilled partly on the floor and mostly on Spock, bathing
his shiny blue uniform with brown liquid.

"Lieutenant," Kirk said sharply, finally finding the optimal reason to
get rid of her, "this is the third time this week that you caused
troubles. I'll see to it that you get a new position where you can't
get into the way of my officers anymore. Leave the bridge!"

She looked at him, her eyes first dilating, then turning into slits.
"Yes, Captain," she said finally and bent down to grab the cup and dry
the pools of liquid with some napkins.

"Captain..." Spock began, and Kirk waved impatiently. "Go and change
and find a new occupation for the lieutenant," he ordered.

"Usually such a mistake is punished with the booth," Spock said
coolly.

Kirk sank into his chair, focusing at the main screen while thinking
hard. He wanted to remove Marlena from the bridge, but he didn't
really want to make her his enemy...

The Vulcan stepped at his side. "Captain?" he said.

Kirk turned his head toward him. "I leave that up to you, Mr. Spock.
I'm sure you'll make the right decision."

For a long moment Spock looked at him in silence. Then the Vulcan went
up to the lift where Marlena joined him. The door closed behind them,
and Kirk leaned back in his chair. Spock was getting annoying, he
thought and looked down at the back of Chekov. That the young man was
still living was only due to the other Kirk's weakness, but maybe it
was good for something. He would need a substitute at the science
console, and Chekov was the best choice. The ensign seemed to feel his
gaze and turned around to look at him.

"Captain?" Chekov asked.

Kirk smiled at him. "Go ahead, Ensign." The young man gave him a
cautious smile and rotated back. Yes, there were worse choices than
the ambitious youngster...

---

"Deck 4," Spock said, and gazed at the lieutenant who stood at his
side as if frozen, only her sparkling eyes showing her agitation. So
the rumors about a split were true, he thought. Fascinating - he had
presumed that Marlena would ensure her share of power by keeping Kirk
by all means, but obviously that was not the case. This definitely
opened new possibilities...

The lift stopped. "Come with me," Spock ordered and went into his
cabin without looking for her. She followed him hesitatingly into the
room while the guards remained outside.

"Sit down," he said and locked the door behind her. Then he moved to
his cabinet and took a new uniform out of it.

Marlena looked at him, eyes guarded. "Why didn't you put me in the
booth?" she asked. "Kirk wouldn't mind, I can assure you."

"I know," Spock said and changed his shirt. "My question served only
to clarify this point."

She stood quiet, watching him pulling the fabric down his chest and
closing the sash over it.

"What do you want," she finally asked.

"Information."

She folded her hands over her chest and leaned back. "About?"

He sat down opposite to her, fixing his gaze at her face to read her
every movement. "The device the other Kirk spoke about, which would
make me 'invincible'."

She tilted her head to the side. "Oh, you finally remember," she said
caustically.

"My private affairs have distracted me," he said flatly, "but would
you have told me anything while still with Kirk?" He could well
remember how she had denied any knowledge of such a device the day
after the mirror incident.

"Probably not," she admitted. Her brown eyes searched his. "What do
you need it for?"

"First, you should tell me how it works and where it is," Spock
replied.

"Quid pro quo," she said coldly. "You tell me what you want to do, and
I'll tell you if it's worth my treachery."

Spock raised a brow. "As long as I don't know how it works, I cannot
tell you what I will do with it."

"Do you want to get rid of the captain?" she asked directly.

For a moment silence hung between them, then Spock shook his head
slightly. "Not at the moment," he said, "but maybe -" He stopped when
a call came in. It was McCoy.

"Spock, I..." the man on the screen hesitated. "Well, you know."

"In ten minutes," Spock replied, and briskly switched off the screen.
He looked up to find Marlena gazing at him intensely...in...disgust?

She rose from her chair. "I don't think you need any information about
the device right now," she stated coldly. "So you'd better put me in
the booth or transfer me to another department. Your decision,
---sir---."

His brows climbed in astonishment. Never before had anyone spoken to
him so insolently, and for a second he seriously considered the booth,
but then he changed his mind. "You're confined to your quarters. A new
position will be found for you soon."

Ignoring the smirk on her face, he went for the door and unlocked it.
"Dismissed, Lieutenant."

Marlena passed him swiftly and was just out of the door when she
hesitated and turned her head to the side as if to say something. But
then she shrugged and left with one of the guards.

Spock sighed inwardly. Human males were hard enough to understand, but
the females of this species were nothing less than a mystery to him.

---

Kirk sat at the large table in the conference room and pretended to
prepare the upcoming meeting about the Terilai mission. But in reality
his gaze rested on McCoy who stood near the door and talked to Scott.
He took in the lean features and the barely visible lines of the belt
and the necklace. It gave him the hots like every time. All his jerk-
off fantasies involved the doctor lately, and if he could do as he
wanted, he'd bend him over the table and fuck his brains out or yank
him to his cabin and chain him down and force him to suck him off. He
summoned up the memories of McCoy's tongue on his cock and how he had
pushed deep into the wet mouth, and between his legs his erection
strained against the pants. He should've kept him then but the cynic
McCoy of that time was vastly different from the man that was now
obediently cooking meals for his Vulcan master every evening.

His eyes drifted to the other side of the table where Spock sat and
looked at McCoy as well. It wasn't yet time to get rid of Spock, he
had decided; the Vulcan was still too valuable to him. But moving
Spock a bit out of the way would be a good thing, and the Terilai
mission gave him the means for that.

---

His feelings shouldn't surprise him, Spock thought as he analyzed the
hint of jealously at watching McCoy with Scott. On Vulcan, the sexes
went separate ways in their daily life, and no other man would be
allowed to come near his property - but here on board the Enterprise
he would have to conform himself to McCoy's position and duties. All
he could do was to ensure that McCoy stayed under his control as much
as possible, and what he had planned for tonight would be another
small brick in the protecting walls he built around his ko-adun.

The engineer's hand suddenly came to rest on McCoy's shoulder in a
friendly gesture, and deep inside of Spock something broke free. He
rose from his seat and leaned over the table, sending a blazing gaze
at his spouse who caught his mood instantly.

"Let's sit down," McCoy said to Scott and turned away from the other
man's hand. The doctor took the seat next to Spock and gave him an
apologetic glance.

// Never forget to whom you belong, // Spock sharply sent over the
bond, and McCoy nodded wordlessly, the mind contact too weak for him
to reply.

---

McCoy's head swam in arousal, and his body swam in sweat that seemed
to stream out of every pore. Tightly bound spread-eagled in the middle
of the room, he was unable to escape the torturously wonderful things
Spock did to him for hours. And so all that was left to him was to
keep his breathing steady, using every ounce of air that the small
mouth inlet of his closed head mask allowed him to take. Being
controlled like this made him feel feathery light, vaguely unreal, and
endlessly open. He was but an instrument in Spock's hand, being played
with. Every other thing in the universe vanished when he was wrapped
into this net of Spock's all-encompassing caring, no harm could ever
come over him in this shelter of Spock's protection. He felt welcomed
and wanted by the passion and pride that flooded him over their bond.
Another tender touch on his chest, another caress on his blood-filled
nubs, and he went insane with craving.

A body pressed at his backside and arms embraced him from behind, and
he tilted his head back until it came to lie on a shoulder. He would
love to hear Spock's voice, but no sound could pass through the thick
mask, and so his world remained reduced to feeling only. Warm hands
glided up and down his chest, and at his ass he could feel his lover's
erection pressing into the cleft. It fed his hope that Spock would
take him now and release him from his burning need, but the Vulcan had
been standing like that already several times without giving in to the
images he tried to convey over the bond.

In front the hands wandered up to his strained neck, and one closed
around his throat, first softly, then strongly, robbing him of the
little air he had left. He tried to relax, but his body involuntarily
began to twitch as the deprivation reached a first critical limit. The
hand let loose, and he raised his head from the other one's shoulder,
sucking the badly needed air harshly through the inlet. Moments later
the hand returned and strong fingers blocked his throat again. Fear
rose in him, and he twisted, but there was no way to escape. Like
before, his body trembled when the biological mechanisms set in, but
the hand remained closed, and suddenly the trembling stropped and
everything became so easy and clear as his fear subsided to the
knowledge that whatever was to happen now was right because it was
Spock's will. Dizziness expanded inside of him, claiming his thoughts,
and he smiled as he felt himself drifting and his limbs slacking. If
Spock wanted his death, he would happily oblige.

The pressure at his throat vanished, but he was unwilling to follow it
back to life, his body remaining limp and his breathing remaining
flat. Strong arms held him upright where his legs didn't support him
any longer, and then air came in freely through the opened inlet.
Reluctantly his lungs began working again, one shallow breath and then
the next one. The mask opened, but he didn't want to see, he didn't
want to leave this dark womb of pure being, where limited existence
stepped back behind alluring ceaselessness. Eyes firmly closed, he
yearned to stay in the twilight, but in the end it was the Vulcan who
pulled him away from the edge and gave him back his life with kisses
on brows and lips and throat where he had given him his death before.
He opened his eyes to meet the Vulcan's ones and his heart was filled
with endless gratitude being for being so wanted, so claimed.

The Vulcan's grip around his waistline loosened and he sank to the
floor to embrace Spock's lower legs. "I love you," he whispered,
pressing his head down on the Vulcan's naked feet, "Oh lord, how I
love you. Don't ever leave me alone."

"I won't," the Vulcan replied, his voice wavering. And then the
unbelievable happened - Spock went down on his knees too, facing him.

"Thank you, my wonderful one," the Vulcan said and took McCoy in a
tight embrace, kissing him deeply. And they knelt like this for a long
time, united in the wish to taste this perfect moment until its
natural end.

---

But the future evolved differently, and so only three days later Spock
saw himself faced with an away mission - two weeks on the newly
associated planet Terilai. After the unusual but effective way the
Halkan problem had been handled, the ISS council had decided to send
Spock as special emissary to Terilai for two weeks. The planet was a
natural source for the alloy Puronium that was necessary for the
coating of spaceships, and it would be easier to use the population as
slaves than to simply extinguish them. Spock rated it as small victory
on his part; perhaps the other Kirk's suggestion still had
possibilities.

He was already packing when McCoy arrived.

"It's true, you're leaving?" McCoy asked with a frown.

"I have to," Spock said earnestly, folding the last shirt and stuffing
it into the medium-sized bag.

"What will I do without you?" McCoy whispered.

"Eliree will look after you; I have already arranged everything with
her. You are already accustomed to her and all is working well, as far
as I can see."

McCoy nodded in silence, the frown still lingering in his face.

"I do not expect that you will be endangered by anyone," Spock added.
"Our enemies have been quiet lately." Maybe Spock should have been
concerned for exactly this reason, but since his mission was
inescapable, he would have to live with the actual state. Kaiidth.

"Of course, you could take my guards into sickbay," he said on second
thought, but McCoy shook his head. "Nobody besides the captain takes
guards into sickbay. It's a kind of off-limit place, and I want to
keep it that way."

"I agree. Come here," Spock said and reached out for his mate. McCoy
took the offered hand and let himself be pulled into an embrace and a
kiss.

When Spock released him, he touched the human's face with his fingers
and caressed down its side. "Only two weeks, my one. And long distance
calls are possible."

"Not quite the same as feeling you," McCoy answered, massaging the
Vulcan's chest. "You'll have to shield heavily, I suppose?"

"Yes," Spock replied. "Anything else would be too distracting."

"Then just come back in one piece, will you?" McCoy said in a low
voice, extending two fingers.

Spock touched them, and the bond expanded, channeling sorrow and
foreboding from McCoy to him. The Vulcan sent assurance and security
back.

"Commander Spock, Commander Spock, report to transporter bay three
immediately," Uhura's voice barked through the comm unit, breaking
their silence.

"'I'll be waiting," McCoy said and took the Vulcan's hand, pressing a
kiss to the upper side.

"I know," Spock said and left for his mission.

---

"Where are the reports from today, M'Benga?" McCoy barked through his
open office door.

M'Benga hastily came around the corner and gave a padd to his
superior. "Since Chapel's off with the away team, we're working
overtime."

McCoy cross-read the list during its download and then gave the padd
back to M'Benga. "Overtime, for a few knifings and one dead crewman?"
he said caustically. "You should join a gravedigger squad on Earth if
that's too much for you. Dismissed."

The dark man left the office as quickly as he had come, and McCoy
looked after him in satisfaction. After two weeks of struggle, he was
back to his old, harsh performance as CMO, even though the anal plug
steadily reminded him of Spock and threatened to have him fall back to
the submissive level. But that wouldn't do if he wanted to keep his
department.

A part of him wondered why M'Benga hadn't yet used the situation to
his advantage, and that was probably Spock's doing, too. He stood up
and stretched his body. His gaze came to rest on the metal cuffs, and
he felt a light sadness rising in him. Four days without Spock, and he
missed him like hell. He was unused to lying in bed alone at night
after all those weeks with the Vulcan, and so the sheets felt clammy
and cold. And, he admitted to himself, he was horny as hell too,
craving the wonderful orgasms Spock gave him.

A glance at the clock on the wall told him that his shift was finally
over, and so he looked at his ordered table in a final check. Since
the sickbay incident, he kept it in a state that would give no one an
excuse for disciplinary actions, and so all padds were neatly piled
and lined according to their contents now - another positive side
effect of Spock's influence on him.

Time for dinner, he thought; maybe he was lucky and Scott was around
too. He stepped out of his office, but he didn't get farther than the
main door when a hypo hissed into his shoulder and darkness fell over
him.

---

M'Benga lifted the limp body on the bed in victory. Oh yes, he had
understood the captain that he wasn't allowed to kill McCoy. He also
understood well enough that Spock would kill ---him--- if he ever
found
out that he had laid a hand on McCoy. But since Spock wouldn't
learn of it, and Kirk would never ask as long as McCoy was alive and
fit later, this was a safe game for M'Benga.

At first he pulled a thick sack over McCoy's head and closed it to
damp all sounds. Then he rolled him on his stomach and tied his arms
together before he lifted up the hips, pushing a cushion under them.
He wanted to have an optimal entry for everything he had in mind with
McCoy, his hated, despised, untouchable department head. Of course it
would be so much nicer if McCoy experienced everything he did to him
in a more awake state, but that would be too dangerous. Drugged like
this, all that would happen to McCoy would be a damped dream, with the
pain and the humiliation real enough to hurt him.

But when he opened the pants and rolled them down, his planning came
to a sudden halt - over the anal entry, a metal plate was locked to
the belt. And no matter how he tried, he couldn't find the opening
mechanism. Maybe it was locked with voice or fingerprints - whatever
it was, he wasn't able to open it. M'Benga's hate doubled in the
realization that his plans were shattered to pieces by the Vulcan's
foresight. He was cheated, over and over again.

But not like this, M'Benga cursed and grabbed the thermal cream and
the protective gloves. At least he could get some of his revenge.
Slowly he distributed the cream on the skin of the buttocks and the
hips, which reddened instantly. Muffled moans came from the head of
the bed as the burning invaded the dreams of his victim, and the hips
shifted slightly away from his hands. "Do not move," he said sternly
in an imitation of the Vulcan, and the body came to an instant halt.
Reaching under the shirt he also rubbed the cream over the nipples,
those wonderful sensitive nipples - how they would burn now he could
well imagine. Some previous self-tests had elicited tears of pain by
even a little contact with the cream. The amount he had distributed on
his victim now was many times his test volume.

The body on the bed shivered but lay quiet otherwise, obeying the
given order. The cream would take more than an hour to lose its
intensity, and this would be a long, uncomfortable hour for his
colleague, M'Benga thought caustically. He would engage the privacy
lock now and -

"M'Benga - what was my order?" a voice asked sharply from behind.

M'Benga whirled around and paled. "Captain!"

Kirk pushed back from the doorframe and stepped forward. "What was my
order?"

"I wasn't allowed to kill him. But this here is just..." His voice
died under the captain's cold gaze.

"If I remember correctly, I warned you only two weeks ago that you
shouldn't lay your hands on him." Kirk stated in a low voice. "I've
seen the gazes you've given McCoy - and don't you think that Spock saw
them too? How do you think you'll get away with what you're doing
here?"

"He's sedated, all that he feels is like a dream to him," M'Benga said
hastily. "I'll treat the skin afterwards, and Spock will never know it
was real." The doctor held his breath as Kirk pondered over this
answer. The captain's eyes drifted over McCoy's body, and suddenly
M'Benga realized that he wasn't the only one who wanted to get McCoy
in his hands - thought maybe for other reasons.

"Leave," Kirk ordered harshly. "Go to your other duties."

"Yes, sir," M'Benga nodded, and left hastily.

---

Kirk almost couldn't believe his luck. McCoy on a plate, in every
sense of the word. The only impediment on the way to his fuck was that
locked metal plate. But he knew who could open it.

He walked outside where M'Benga still stood next to the door. "Call
yeoman Eliree to sickbay."

Not waiting for M'Benga's reply, Kirk moved back into the closure. He
caressed the back of the tied man; never in his life had he yearned
for someone so intensely. And now he'd get him, for a short time only,
but he'd get him.

The door opened and Eliree came in. As she saw the body on the bed, a
small gasp escaped her.

"You will open the lock," Kirk said without further introduction.

"Captain!" She looked at him in alarm. "I can't do that."

He grabbed her arm and yanked her to the bed. "That was an order,
yeoman. Do you want to end up in the booth?"

Her gaze drifted to McCoy's buttocks and back to Kirk. "Captain," she
pleaded weakly, "Mr. Spock will kill me if I do this."

A second later she had his dagger at her chin. "If you don't do it, I
will kill you," Kirk said in a low, icy voice. In satisfaction he
noticed the shivers that went through her body and the fear that
shaded her face. "I've killed so many," he whispered. "Many more than
Spock. Don't make me kill you."

The Orion wavered and finally gave in. "I - I will do what you want."

Kirk took the dagger away. "Open it."

She leaned forward and touched the small locking mechanism with her
middle finger. With a faint hiss it unlocked, and she carefully
removed the plug.

"Put it down there," Kirk ordered and pointed at a nearby table. "Now
wait outside."

She left with downcast eyes, pale and defeated. And when the door had
closed behind her, Kirk engaged the privacy lock. Time for fun.

---

McCoy awoke with a start. What a terrible dream that had been, he
thought with a shudder. And it had been so real. Even his body seemed
to ache from it, his skin burning, and his anal muscle stinging over
the plug. He massaged his forehead, trying to clear his throbbing
head. He didn't remember having gone home to their cabin at the end of
his shift, but here he was, and the red colors gave him some peace of
mind with the warmth they radiated.

Swaying, he went to the bathroom where his pale face met his eyes in
the small mirror. The headache developed rapidly into a migraine, not
at all impressed by the cold water he sprayed over his face. He should
probably go to sickbay, but an illogical fear rose in him at the
thought. His dream had taken place there, and he didn't want to smell
the disinfectants before his next shift. Time for another round of
sleep, he decided. He went back to the bed, rolling over to Spock's
side to inhale the calming smell of his mate as he pressed his face
into the cushion.

---

Kirk rubbed his cock once, twice, and came in a tremble, the ejaculate
hitting the other side of the sonic shower stall. The memories of the
last evening were the perfect aphrodisiac for him, but it had been so
short, not nearly enough to feed his hunger for McCoy. He didn't
really want to fuck a drugged man - he wanted him to be awake, fully
aware when he took his pleasure in him. But he wouldn't reach that
goal if he couldn't coax Spock into giving over the doctor willingly.

He stopped the sonic shower and grabbed a towel when a sudden
inspiration hit him. Anger was the answer - Spock could react very
badly when he saw the doctor do something that he shouldn't, like in
sickbay two weeks ago. With anger he would get him. And he knew the
perfect person for his plot.

Drying his back with the towel he made his call.

"Kirk to yeoman Eliree - report to my cabin, immediately."

Minutes later the Orion yeoman came in. She clamped her hands behind
her back and raised her chin, trying to look calm and controlled when
he knew that she was everything but.

He looked over her, not for the first time, but closer than he had
done in the past. She wore deliberately loose clothing to hide her
body, but she was well-built, lean and slim with full breasts. And
being an Orion, she was probably experienced in some interesting
techniques. Maybe he would be able to combine his idea with other
pleasures.

Kirk was still naked, and the girl's gaze finally came to rest at his
groin. He grinned. Cupping his sac he played with his balls, which
made her lower her head.

"Interested, yeoman?" he asked.

"Maybe," she answered very cautiously.

"Why don't you come here and test our compatibility?" His fingers
massaged his genitals further, his cock already bobbing up and
pointing toward her.

"Yes, sir," she replied. Without further question she knelt down in
front of him and took his penis deep into her mouth. The blowjob that
followed was better than good, and it didn't take him long to come in
her mouth, although he had climaxed in the shower only shortly before.

"Nice," he said, "very nice." He withdrew, rubbing the penis over her
lips before he turned to his table.

"Have a drink," he said and gave her a glass with a blue liquid.

She stood up and took the drink. He took one likewise, and raised his
glass.

"To a productive collaboration, yeoman," he toasted and drank it down
in one gulp.

Eliree nodded and drank wordlessly. Seconds later he saw her swaying.
She looked at him, fear in her eyes. "Sir, everything...is spinning."

"Must be the sex," he said lightly. "Why don't you lie down until your
circulation is better?"

He led her to his bed, and she sank down on it. "Thank you, sir," she
whispered, and fell asleep, Kirk reaching for a hypo the last thing
she remembered afterwards.

---

The next morning Eliree as always blindfolded McCoy and chained his
hands to the bar at the shower ceiling before she opened the belt.
Used to the cleansing routine he stood relaxed, at least until he felt
her fingers on parts where they didn't quite belong.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a low voice.

"I am cleaning you," she said, and rubbed a slick finger over his
opening. "Don't you like it?"

He twitched as the finger entered him. "Please..." he gasped, but it
sounded like a plea for more, not quite what he had intended. He knew
that this wasn't allowed, but her touch was gentle and arousing. She
stimulated his prostate, and soon he moaned, his body swinging
slightly from his tied hands.

Another hand rubbed over his groin, which made him frown. This wasn't
right; this area wasn't to be touched like this. He shifted his hips
away. "Don't touch me there," he said.

She patted his buttocks. "It's nothing bad, McCoy. I just want to make
you feel good. Don't you like it?" Her fingers probed deeper again,
and he clamped his hands tightly around the chains. He was so horny
from the last week without his lover. Sweet torture, Spock called the
electrified plug, but it was torture in the end. His guilty conscience
vanished as she added another finger, pushing with three now. He bent
his back, inviting her movements. In front, her other hand still
rested over the loose flesh, but he ignored it.

Her laughter rung in his ears as she suddenly pulled out.

"Enough for now," she said and closed the belt. He gasped, but didn't
complain. What they were doing here wasn't right. He didn't want to
disappoint Spock, didn't want to see the Vulcan's angry gaze when
Spock had to punish him for overstepping a limit.

But in the evening she once again chained him in the shower and opened
the belt, a procedure that normally was a morning routine only.

"Why are you -" he began, but when her fingers moved over his puckered
opening, he fell silent, giving in to the sensation. It felt so good,
so arousing, so...forbidden. He looked down at her.

"You aren't allowed to do this," he stated steadier than he felt.

She grinned up at him. "You like it nevertheless, don't you?" Her
other hand touched her groin, and it felt...weird. He gazed down to
where her fingers were entangled into soft, wrinkled flesh that looked
disgusting, and he didn't want to feel her touch it like this.
Rotating around he escaped her grip for a moment. "Stop this," he
said. "That's not right. That's not what Spock ordered you to do."

She laughed. "How do you know what Spock told me? It won't please him
when you talk to me like that. I might even stop what I was ordered to
do." Her fingers pushed deeper, and his body automatically countered
by inviting them.

"He told you...?" McCoy asked in confusion.

"Do you think I would do this without his knowledge?" she said,
playing with her fingertips over the hard nub in his depths. McCoy
flinched. "You like it, don't you?" she purred. Her hand began to move
in and out, steadily fucking him. It didn't take long before he hung
in his chains like a drowning man, the edges of the metal cuffs
pressing deep into his skin.

"Oh yes...yes..." he moaned, pounding back at her when she increased
the rhythm.

Suddenly she withdrew. "That's enough for now," she stated.

Wide-eyed McCoy looked at her. Just like that...? It had to be Spock's
order, more training, more...sweet torture for him. He briefly leaned
his head on his bent arms, but then he controlled himself again. When
she had closed the belt around his hips, he thanked her and hastily
donned his clothes and left for his shift. But no matter what happened
that day, he couldn't help wondering what this evening would bring.

---

It brought more - more touching, more fucking, more despair as she
closed the belt again with a promise of "later". A later which McCoy
soon learned that she didn't mean, but a later that sounded too
exciting to want her to stop. But she did never more than penetrate
him with her fingers and to massage the flesh in his front. It was
still a weird feeling, as if this part of his body wasn't connected to
his mind, but the weirdness diminished with every meeting.

It was the morning of the fifth day that he looked down at his chest,
watching her fingers play in the loosely hanging flesh once more.

"You like it, don't you?" she purred, the fingers of her other hand
deep in his ass.

"I don't know," he said defensively. It wasn't right, it wasn't even
right to see it - but without the blindfold and not being ordered to
look away, his curiosity got the better of him.

"It looks strange," he said. "Ugly."

She pulled out her fingers, eliciting a gasp from him.

"It is like every man's genitals," she said. Reaching up she freed his
wrists from the lock. "Touch it," she said as he lowered his arms in
confusion.

"Touch...?"

She laughed again. "Yes, touch it." She took one of his hands and led
it to the hanging folds of skin. "Touch it. Feel it."

He shrieked back. "It's not allowed," he whispered, remembering
lessons by...Spock? It didn't matter; it was enough to know that he
should not do it. Never.

"Come on," Eliree said and pushed his hands onto the flesh, forcing
his fingers around it. "It's totally normal for a man."

McCoy closed his fingers around it, feeling...nothing.

"It is not right," he said and pulled his hand away. "I am a ko-adun."

"I see," she said, visibly disappointed. "Well, then I'll handle you
like this." She closed the belt and inserted the plug, and only when
it was locked, McCoy began to relax again.

---

She would get him sooner or later, Eliree thought as she tied his
hands up again that evening. He was so cute in this position, so sexy,
so ready for any stimulation she would give him. The belt was quickly
opened and then she knelt down next to him, cupping his genitals.

"How does it feel now?" she asked, but all she heard was a small moan
when she rubbed over the penis. It stood unmoved like every day, but
she could feel that she had reached something inside of him when she
touched it like this. She coated her other hand with lube and reached
around, searching the small entry. He shifted toward her fingers,
eagerly claiming them.

"What a slut you are," she said as he pounded against her intrusion,
fucking himself on her fingers.

"Yes," he gasped.

"You want more?" she asked.

"Yes."

She pulled out. He jerked, swallowing hard.

"You'll touch yourself," she said and stood up to unlock his wrists.
"Do it."

He looked down at the flesh. Then he sighed. "If you want me to do
this..."

His finger just reached the sac as the door opened and Spock stepped
into the bathroom.

For a second all three froze, then the Vulcan sputtered, "What are you
doing here?"

Eliree was speechless with shock so Spock grabbed her arm and yanked
her out of the bathroom.

"Sir, I did what you ordered me to do," she gasped as he released her
in the middle of the room. Tears of pain fogged her view as she looked
up at him.

"I ordered you to do this? When?" he asked. His voice was cold as ice.

"I...can't remember...after you had left...you called me...didn't
you?" she said.

"I did not," Spock stated. He bent down over her. "Give me your
thoughts," he said and reached for her face.

"No," she cried and pushed his lower arms aside, but he threw her on
the floor and pinned her down with only one hand. His legs pressed on
hers, making any movement impossible. Then his other hand contacted
her temple, and she felt him piercing into her mind and through her
existence. Sharp red lines cut through her thoughts, searching her
memories until she lost track of herself.

---

When she opened her eyes again, she still lay on the floor. A small
sob hung in her ears, and it took her a moment to realize it was her
own. She looked up, and there she saw them - Spock at the bed, McCoy
kneeling in front of him with arms clutched behind his back.

"Sir...?" she whispered weakly.

Spock didn't turn his head as he answered. "Leave now and do not
return again, yeoman."

She didn't understand what was happening, but she understood that
tone. Not to leave might cost her more than she had already paid,
whatever for. She pulled herself into a swaying stand and left
hastily.

---

"She truly thinks I ordered her to do this. And what is your
explanation, my mate?" Spock asked coldly, his eyes mere slits.

"She said it was your order," McCoy whispered fearfully. "I believed
her."

"You know that you are not allowed to touch what is under the belt,
ever. Or do you deny it?"

McCoy shook his head. "No," he said in a low voice. "I knew it was not
right."

He saw Spock's fists clench, and knew that a harsh punishment would
follow. But the hardest for him was that he had lost Spock's trust.
Any punishment would end after an hour or maybe two, but the damage he
had done to their relationship would take much longer to heal.

"I am so sorry," McCoy whispered. It would not help him to talk about
the feeling of being lost and lonely without Spock, about his
torturous arousal and the permanent, burning need in him.

Spock looked at him. "Apologies are irrelevant. You have broken the
rules." The Vulcan's eyes were sparkling in anger. "Your punishment
will be in correspondence with the gravity of your failure."

The doorbell chimed, taking them both by surprise. Then it chimed
again, a little signal sequence McCoy knew all too well.

For a second Spock frowned, but then he darkly looked at McCoy. "I
believe the tool of your punishment is just arriving. Stay as you
are."

The Vulcan went to the anteroom and opened the door.

"Good evening, Spock," Kirk's voice clung in the cabin, cheerful and
relaxed. "I am quite happy that the mission was shorter than expected.
You seem to have quite a hand to ensure the cooperation of newly
acquired planets. I wanted to talk to you about that - but obviously,
you are engaged at the moment." The slimy undertone in his voice
couldn't be overheard, and McCoy blushed. He knew Kirk had some
interest in him, but just the thought of Kirk touching him nauseated
him for a while. For that Spock had never been willing to share him
McCoy was grateful, to say the least. The more shocked he was when he
heard Spock's answer. "Are you interested in participating, Captain?"

Obviously Kirk was as surprised as McCoy was shell-shocked, but then
he replied, "Oh yes, I would be, of course."

// Spock, have mercy... not him... // McCoy pleaded, his heart beating
like a drum in his ears, but he already knew that Spock would never
withdraw such an offer.

// Spock - //

// This is your punishment. You will endure it. //

// Please, no - //

McCoy gasped as Spock's hands centered on his face and the Vulcan's
forceful thoughts invaded his mind and activated his brain's pain
center. In vain he tried to hold back the tears as pain seared his
mind, and a small sob escaped his lips when Spock finally released his
pressure. Never had Spock done something like that to him. Never had
Spock been so angry. It would be the right punishment for his
disobedience, indeed. It was all his fault...

Blinking through tears he could see Kirk's approaching figure. "Spock,
you are really a dangerous man," the captain said.

"I assumed that you cherish that quality," the Vulcan replied. Then he
ordered, "My one, turn around to face the captain."

McCoy slid around, his hands still tightly clutched behind his back.
Fixing his gaze on Kirk's clad groin, he fought against a wave of
nausea; but this was his punishment, and he would endure it.

White fingers glided over black pants, opening the trousers and
pulling out a half-erect penis. The fingers stroked it for a moment,
and it became hard and expanded, its head pointing toward McCoy's
mouth.

"Now, that's a view, isn't it?" Kirk whispered. "Come on, lick."

McCoy leaned forward, extending his tongue to reach the lower side of
the glans. He licked over it, barely touching the skin. His stomach
tightened under the smell and the taste and the knowledge that this
was Kirk's cock. Tears filled his eyes again as he fought the disgust
that rose in him.

"Do your duty, McCoy," Spock said coldly. "You know better."

Up and down, along the sides and over the already leaking head McCoy
let his tongue wander now, but he knew that was only the beginning.

"Take it in. Swallow it all," the captain ordered from above, his
voice hushed.

When McCoy's lips closed over the glans, Kirk grabbed his head and
pushed his full length into the wetness, mouth-fucking him. And
suddenly there was that feeling of deja-vu rising in him so intensely
that he choked. Kirk paused for a second, but then went ahead
fervidly, holding him upright by his hair. McCoy swayed on his hurting
knees, unable to stabilize himself with his arms on his back. It had
been different that other night, McCoy thought dizzily while he tried
to relax his jaw. He had participated freely...sucked Kirk...until...

The penis pressed in deeply, making him want to cough. He breathed
harshly through his nose, fulfilling his duties while his thoughts
whirled. He had brought him to orgasm that night too, but then Kirk
had rendered him unconscious and M'Benga had drugged him and they
had...given him to Spock. Oh lord...

He closed his eyes while the hand on his head forced it back and
forth, faster and faster. His jaws ached and his legs began to tremble
in the uncomfortable position, and he prayed it would be over soon.
His wish was fulfilled when the cock twitched between his lips,
releasing its fluid in pulsing shots. The taste was the final trigger
for his memory that came in full-fledged now, and he choked again when
he swallowed the liquid. Kirk slowly withdrew, and McCoy licked the
spent organ clean as it was expected from him, the nausea and the
humiliation suddenly unimportant in the light of his memories. Then he
was released and sagged back on his heels, taking a deep breath.

Above his head, he heard Kirk commenting on his skill, a praise Spock
answered quite coldly. They moved towards the anteroom and only
minutes later Kirk left the cabin. When Spock returned, McCoy jumped
up, ignoring all rules.

"Spock," he rasped. "I remember it all, it was him, his plot, his
revenge!"

"What do you mean?" Spock said with a deep frown.

"Look into my mind, Spock," McCoy begged and took the Vulcan's hand,
placing it on his face. Spock entered the meld with little care,
brushing through his memories in an aching rush, but it didn't matter.
All that mattered was that Spock would see the truth.

When the Vulcan dissolved the meld again, their eyes met. And in
Spock's, there was the most dangerous, deadly gaze McCoy had ever
seen.

For a moment, speech escaped them both as all the implications of
Kirk's plot sank into them.

"I will kill him," Spock finally said with heated intensity. "I will
kill him with the most painful methods my people have ever known." His
gaze caught the weapons on the wall. "I will skin him inch by inch,
and then I will let him wrap in le-matya skin and hang out to dry in
the Forge -"

McCoy touched his shoulder. "Spock, we aren't on Vulcan," he said
cautiously. "We're here, on this ship - his ship. He'll work against
us further."

Spock didn't listen; instead, his swearing changed to Vulcan, a
growling hateful rush of unintelligible syllables.

"Spock, please," McCoy said in a plea.

Spock briefly closed his eyes, visibly fighting for control. When he
opened them again, the bloodlust in their depths hadn't diminished
much, but the first frenzy was gone. He reached out and touched
McCoy's face again, this time unusually tender entering the meld.

 // I apologize, my mate, // Spock sent over. // My punishment was
 unjustified. //

McCoy shook his head mentally. // It's okay, Spock. It's your right.
//

// I will make amends, // the Vulcan's mind whispered, and McCoy felt
lips meeting his. He leaned into the touch, answering the kiss.

"Bridge to Spock," the call came in and cut sharply through the room.
Spock instantly withdrew from the loose embrace and sat down at his
communication console.

"What is it?" he asked as Uhura appeared on his screen.

"A call from Vulcan for you, sir," she replied. "Private, but with
high priority signature."

Spock raised a brow and gave McCoy a short glance. "Put it through,
Lieutenant," he replied finally.

McCoy stepped away from the screen, getting only a glimpse of the
image of an old Vulcan woman that followed some symbols. But he saw
that Spock's stance visibly changed from commander to subordinate as
she spoke to him crisply, and it made him wonder what power this
unknown woman had over his adun. Spock only answered in a few short
words, and then the connection closed again, leaving Spock in front of
the screen with a blank gaze.

"Spock - everything all right?" McCoy asked cautiously.

The Vulcan looked up at him. "That was T'Pau, the head of my House.
She demands that you leave immediately for Vulcan, where you shall
learn to fulfill your role as my ko-adun."

McCoy frowned in confusion. "Didn't you teach me all I need to know?"

Spock shook his head slightly. "Obviously T'Pau is of the opinion that
it is necessary for an official wife to be introduced to her duties
under her supervision." He sighed. "Her word is law, my mate. You will
have to leave soon. As you fall under Vulcan law by our bonding, an
unlimited, instant leave from the ISS for family reasons has to be
granted by Kirk."

"I don't want to leave you," McCoy whispered, offering a hand.

Spock stood up and took it, his other hand touching the human's face,
deepening another meld.

// Especially not now when this would leave you alone with Kirk, //
McCoy sent over.

// The prospect of letting you go is very unpleasant. I missed you, //
Spock admitted as he stroked McCoy's chest, caressing the smooth skin.
// But you will return, and then our time for revenge will come. //

Spock directed the human to the bed, leaning him down gently.

// Our time will come... //

---

On the other side of the corridor, Kirk watched them once again on the
Tantalus viewer, knowing that this would be their last lovemaking. He
had seen it in McCoy's eyes when he had withdrawn - the doctor had
remembered, and Spock knew now, too. He had to get rid of the Vulcan
and then McCoy would be all his. He surely wouldn't be able to resist
him with the tight conditioning he had received from the Vulcans.
McCoy would be all his, and he would take him just as he wanted to.

Kirk's tongue was dry from the air that he sucked through his lips in
anticipation when he reached out for the one button that would make
Spock vanish in the wink of an eye. He grinned as he wondered if he
should wait until Spock had climaxed - one last shot - but then he
decided differently. If Spock vanished now, he could walk over and
start right there, claiming the doctor instantly.

His hand lingered over the button for another second, and there was a
hint of regret that Spock had to die now, for they had had a very
productive working relationship. But then he pressed the button deep
and - nothing happened.

Kirk gasped in disbelief, and pressed it again, once, twice - nothing.
The Tantalus device had been sabotaged.

And when the door opened, he knew who was to blame.

"Marlena!"

"Yes, Jimmy darling," she said flatly, and stepped into the room.

He rushed to her and grabbed her upper arms, yanking her to the wall.

"What did you do with it? How could you betray me like this?" he
yelled at her.

"It has lost its heart, Jim," she said coldly. "It is dead, and will
be forever. It was one of a kind, and is damaged beyond repair." She
met his gaze fully. "You never had a heart, Kirk. But I met another
you once, who had one."

"Where is the missing part?" he insisted, barely listening to her
words in his fury. He shook her hard. "Where, Marlena? Tell me!"

"It is destroyed," she said.

He backhanded her. "I don't believe you. I'll get the truth out of
you, by all means."

Marlena shrugged, ignoring the blood that trickled down her mouth's
edge. "It is no more. Just as you will be dead soon."

"Me?" He grabbed her throat with both hands, throttling her harshly.
"You'll be dead if you don't tell me how to repair it!" Shaking her
like a rag doll, he pushed her against the wall again and again,
accompanied soon by the dull sound of cracking bones. She gasped and
began to struggle for air, her hands erratically pushing against his
chest and arms, but in vain. Finally she slacked in his grip, and when
he released her after some more long moments, she crumpled to the
floor in a lifeless heap of limbs.

"You whore," he barked in diminishing anger, and gave her a final
kick. "You damn fucking whore."

And then the anger burned up, leaving him with emptiness within. He
sat down heavily on the bed, looking at her dead body and then at the
Tantalus screen where the relaxed features of his intended victim told
a story of release and satisfaction, a mocking mirror of the deadly
silence in his own cabin.

Well, he could wait just as well for McCoy's return, Kirk decided. And
then he called his guards to pick up the pieces of the captain's
woman.

---

The End