WARNINGS: BDSM, whipping, gagging, choking, non-prepared penetration, blood, violence. Craziness.
Note: So, I promised to write this a while ago, but I never got around to it. So here it is. And this kinda fills two promises I made (one to actually continue on the Christmas prompt from FF100s and one because Star demanded that I write out the BDSM scene from the Make-Up prompt from Slash100s).
Rating: Heavy M/NC-17 (call it what you will, it's ADULT)
FYI: I don't own Star Trek or anything associated, so don't sue, kthnx.
Merry Christmas, Spock
The Captain turned the box over in his hands, letting the cuffs, whip, and gag fall into his other hand; he smirked and stood up, holding them to his chest protectively. Stalking back into the bedroom, he tossed the items upon the bed in between Spock's legs and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest. "So when were you planning on using these?"
Spock raised an eyebrow, giving his Captain a pointed look. "I was planning on using them after breakfast this morning if you would not be averse to such a suggestion."
"Since when have I ever been averse to sex, let alone kinky bondage sex with you?" Jim asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"You make an admirable point, Jim." Spock lifted himself from the bed, gliding over to the closet area to dress for the day in his uniform blacks. "However, before we engage in such activity, you will be in need of something to eat. I suggest a high-carbohydrate meal with an elevated amount of protein."
"Ah, planning on exerting a lot of energy today, are we?" Jim teased, pulling on a shirt.
"That meal plan is just for this morning between the hours of eight and eleven." Jim tripped while he was putting his pants on, getting flustered just from listening to his First Officer talk to him like that. "Then we will have a short intermission for lunch, where you will eat a high-protein meal that is rich in fiber and low in carbohydrates. From the hour of one o'clock to six we will engage in copulation once again."
Jim's skin flushed red, finally managing to get his pants on and fastened around his waist. "You know what I think, Spock?"
"Please share, Captain."
Jim kissed Spock on the cheek, causing a light green blush to creep onto his face. "I think Christmas is my favorite holiday."
"Hey, Bones!" Jim said cheerily, sitting next to the Chief Medical Officer in the mess hall.
"'Mornin', Jim," came the gruff reply. The doctor eyed the items of food on Jim's tray but intelligently kept his mouth shut because Spock had just taken the seat next to the Captain. "Why are you up so early?"
"Bones, it's Christmas!" He bit into an apple, the juice dribbling down his chin slightly.
"Captain." Spock handed him a cloth, allowing him to wipe his mess away.
"Okay," Bones said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I thought you hated Christmas."
"That was before this morning…" he replied cryptically, winking sidelong at Spock.
"What do you…? Oh! Oh!" The doctor slapped the table roughly. "Jim, this is the mess hall!"
Jim laughed, finishing his food. "Relax, Bones. We didn't do anything… yet."
"A'right, that's enough. I don't wanna hear any more." He got up from the table. "Have a good day, Jim. And don't come runnin' to my SickBay if you procure injuries from your day off."
"Love you, too, Bones!" Jim yelled to McCoy's retreating back. He turned around to find Spock already standing up.
"Jim, if we do not leave within three point four five minutes, we will be off schedule by five point oh two seven minutes."
"Oh really? Well, we'd better get goin' then!"
They discarded their trays and left the mess hall, walking swiftly through the hallways and wishing everyone they passed a Merry Christmas. Jim got stopped by a group of ensigns that wanted to send a picture of them and their Captain back to their families on Earth, an action that riled Spock in ways Jim didn't even know was possible.
When they finally reached their quarters, Spock made Jim go inside first, turning and locking the door with the Captain's code. Jim had to smirk at that. "Planning on taking me hostage?" he teased.
"Indeed." Jim's smirk fell from his face as he realized Spock wasn't kidding. He tried to run, opening his mouth and shouting out his Captain's code, but Spock was too fast and stuffed the gag in Jim's open mouth. "It would be wise for you to stay silent."
Jim whimpered as Spock led him to the bed, shoving him down; he picked up the handcuffs, securing the Captain's hands to the hook on the wall above the bed. He leaned over Jim's body, his clothed erection brushing against Jim's thigh, and kissed the corners of his mouth.
"Jim, Vulcans do not normally dream," he explained, fingering the collar of Jim's shirt. "However, I have found myself dreaming of the time when I would be able to dominate you and for you to submit, willingly or otherwise."
Jim groaned around the ball, bucking his hips off the bed, his stiffness straining against pants that were already too tight under normal circumstances.
"I find it more pleasing when you resist." Spock gripped either side of the shirt collar and tugged, the fabric ripping easily with the Vulcan's strength. Jim's torso was now completely bare, the tanned skin calling out to Spock to touch and lick and kiss and bite, but he controlled himself.
He lifted Jim's hips off the bed, turning him over onto his stomach so his back was visible; he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss at the small of Jim's back, tonguing the flesh teasingly. Then he left the bed completely, leaving Jim to wonder what was going to happen next; he got his answer two seconds later when the crack of a whip echoed through the room. A second crack and this one connected with his flesh, the sting of it causing tears to well up in his eyes.
"I believe, Jim, that you enjoy this far more than you are willing to admit." He rubbed the leather butt of the whip against the mark it had left on his back, the pressure on the wound deliciously sadistic and the burn of it causing him to lose his breath. "You are what Earthlings call 'masochistic'."
Jim turned his head and gave Spock a look that said, "Then that makes you sadistic, you sick bastard."
Another crack of the whip and Jim slammed his face into the pillows beneath him, gasping and panting around the gag. "You shall only look at me when I instruct you to do so." The commanding tone of Spock's voice was sending Jim's body into arousal-overdrive, his erection harder than it had ever been in his whole life. He bucked into the bed, earning him another strike of the whip. "You shall not relieve yourself until I instruct you to do so."
Jim moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to even out his breathing; his nose was running and he was pretty sure he could taste blood, but he wasn't sure if it was a nosebleed or if his gums were bleeding from the gag.
Spock, to Jim's relief, threw the whip across the room and flipped the Captain back over, who obediently kept his eyes shut. "Look at me." Jim slowly opened his eyes, staring up at his First Officer's towering form; it was perfectly terrifying.
Spock's hand reached out and wrapped around Jim's neck tightly, recreating the bridge incident from three years ago. Jim's windpipe was effectively blocked, no air coming in or going out, and his vision was going dark. "Look at me," Spock growled, not loosening his grip on the Captain's throat. Jim fought to keep his eyes open, and though he could see Spock, the outline of his body was blurry.
Seeming to have pity on the body beneath him, Spock released Jim's throat, who coughed and spluttered around the gag; his spittle ran down his cheeks and pooled onto the pillow and Spock leaned down and lapped it up. "You must learn to listen and do as you are told," he admonished, scratching his nails down Jim's chest, leaving shallow cuts on the otherwise unmarred, hairless skin.
Reaching Jim's erection, Spock made little work of the Captain's pants, ridding them just as he had done the shirt; Jim wore nothing underneath. Spock seemed pleased at this little fact, wrapping his hand around Jim's penis; the Captain moaned in his throat, which was so sore, and lifted his hips. Spock shoved him back down, getting off of his kneeling position on the bed; he removed his own clothes quickly and efficiently, laying himself across Jim's body.
"Jim," he said softly, licking the shell of his ear. "I am going to make love to you now."
Jim wanted to scoff at the absurdity of "making love" when he was cuffed to the fucking wall with a ball gag in his mouth, but decided that he didn't want another choking session with his First; as hot as it was the first time, he didn't think it would be too arousing the second time around. So he nodded instead.
Spock didn't even bother to prepare his lover; he slicked himself up with the lubricating oil Jim kept in the bedside drawer, propped Jim's legs on his shoulders, and lined up his erection. He pressed forward slowly, but insistently, the head of his penis popping past the tight ring of muscle; he could feel Jim stretching around him and knew that it was painful. As many times as they had done this, Jim still needed lots of preparation before any penetration could occur.
Jim was screaming into the gag, tears streaming down his face as he felt his skin ripping around Spock's erection; he wrapped his hands around the chains of the cuffs and squeezed, felt the metal cut his skin open.
Once he was all the way in, Spock didn't give Jim any time to recover, and he pulled out and slammed back in, Jim's salty sweat and the lube mixing with the blood in the wounds. Spock angled his thrusts to strike Jim's prostate each time, and after only ten minutes of thrusting and one minute of stimulation to his cock, Jim came, spilling himself all over his chest and abdomen. He collapsed on the bed, eyes closed, and passed out.
Feeling slightly sorry for what he had done, but also needing to release, Spock thought about pulling out and leaving Jim to recover; but the raw need to relieve himself won out his logic and he thrust home once more and let go, releasing his seed deep into Jim's body. He slumped gracefully next to Jim, kissing the Captain's cheek before falling asleep.
Jim woke up in pain; every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire. His arms were numb, his ass burned like hell, and his throat was sore. He turned his head when he noticed Spock was staring at him; he opened his mouth, realizing the ball gag was gone, and tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked "Fuck."
"Jim," Spock said softly, tracing circles on the semen on Jim's abdomen. "I apologize for the events of last night. I… I lost control."
The Captain smiled softly, that simple act communicating to his First Officer that he was all right, if only a little sore.
"I will call for Doctor McCoy," Spock said and got up from the bed. He turned on his communicator. "Spock to SickBay."
"SickBay. What can I do for you, Mr. Spock?"
"Doctor, I need you to visit my quarters to treat Jim; he is very badly wounded."
"Yeah, I wonder how that happened…" Bones grumbled, nevertheless collecting a bag of medical supplies. "I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Thank you, Doctor. Spock out." He turned back to Jim, worry clear in his eyes. "The Doctor is on his way," he said, stating the obvious. "Jim, are you sure you are not upset with me?"
He cleared his throat; it hurt, but he needed to tell Spock that he was okay. "I'm fine, Spock," he managed, his voice scratchy. "I love you."
"I love you as well, Jim." Spock leaned down and kissed his lips for the first time since their little encounter began.
"Ya know what?" Jim said, coughing slightly. "I think this may be the best Christmas I've ever had."
Spock smiled a small smile. "I am glad. Merry Christmas, Jim."
"Merry Christmas, Spock."
Secondary Note: Oh, Lord, I'm going to Hell, aren't I? I get SO carried away with ANY BDSM story I write. Seriously.
I hope you all liked it anyway. lol
Listening to: Owl City (Ocean Eyes CD)