A Good Beating

"It is not logical that a proven failure in the bedroom would be capable of pleasing a man such as Jim."

"Now just wait a minute! What do you mean 'proven failure'?"

"Your ex-wife claimed you were less than satisfying, did she not?"

"You leave that lying harpy out of this..."

Jim stood in the hallway, just outside the door to Spock's quarters, listening to his lovers argue. The two men had never seen eye-to-eye but their bickering had grown worse since Jim had taken them both as lovers. He liked it best when they fought over him. It really stroked his... er... ego. This fight promised to be even better than the time he "forgot" about a date with Spock. When the Vulcan eventually found Jim - in Bones's bed - the sparks had really flown. He'd had no choice but to prove that he loved them both equally.

He did, of course. Love them both equally, that is. Jim was just as drawn to Spock's cool rationality as he was to Bones's fiery temper. Some people might disapprove of their unusual relationship - oh, he heard the whispers - but Jim wouldn't have it any other way. Couldn't have it any other way. He couldn't possibly choose between the two men - not that he had ever told them that. Besides, this way was much more fun.

With the way he treated them, it was hardly surprising that either man would doubt Jim's affection. The devil in him was constantly pitting Bones and Spock against each other, making them fight over who could "handle" him best - just to get their blood pumping. Angry sex was the best. Hot and sweaty... He was already anticipating how good it was going to be.

Earlier tonight, he and Bones had been in bed together doing... Well, what any hot-blooded men would do in bed together. When things had just about reached their peak, Jim had "accidently" moaned Spock's name. Then, he just laid back and waited for the fireworks to start. Jim had been surprised as hell when his normally volatile lover had simply untangled himself, gotten out of bed, dressed and left the room.

Jim had deliberately taken his time dressing before going in search of Bones. (Didn't want to seem too eager, did he?) But then he couldn't find him. It had taken him nearly thirty minutes to finally track the doctor to Spock's quarters - talk about the last place he'd think to look - and by that time, the fight was already in full swing. Rather than just barging in, Jim had (wisely, he thought) waited outside for the most... opportune time to make his entrance.

"And what do you know about pleasing anyone?"

"I fail to see your point."

"I've got more feeling in my little toe than you have in your entire green-blooded body, that's my point!"

"You cannot possibly know the extent of my feelings for Jim."

Ah... This was his favorite part. Jim leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, enjoying the moment. He smiled as he listened to his lovers argue over who loved him more. He had never been the type, himself, to express feelings of love verbally – it was unwise, in his position, to show weakness - but he did love to hear them say it. Who wouldn't? Everyone wanted to be wanted.

A security officer alerted, no doubt, by the sound of raised voices, approached from the opposite direction. He was all caution, with phaser drawn and slow, stealthy steps. Jim thought he looked ridiculous. Security officers could be so over dramatic. He shook his head at the red-shirted man, raising a finger to his lips. The security officer rolled his eyes and slipped the phaser back into its holster. He went away, mumbling to himself about "lovers' spats." Jim considered assigning the man to the next away mission for a moment then turned his attention back to the argument going on behind the closed door.

"I am often surprised that you are able to keep up with Jim. It is well known that human males of your advanced age experience certain...difficulties with stamina."

"Why...you pointy-eared bast-"

Uh oh. Sounded like it was time for Jim to get in there and break things up before they got too nasty. He stepped forward, the door whooshing as it swept open before him, just in time to see Bones lunge at Spock, knocking him backward. They tumbled onto the bed - a mass of swinging arms and legs. There was a muffled thump followed by an "oof" from... whoever was on the bottom.

Jim hesitated in the doorway watching as his lovers tousled. He knew he should stop them before someone actually got hurt but... But what a sight! The two of them twisting and writhing on the bed that way... Jim felt himself growing hard as he pictured himself sandwiched between them, Spock griping his wrists as Bones's leg rode up his thigh...

For a moment, Jim thought the moan he heard was his own. Then he saw Spock jerk backwards - ah, so it was Bones on the bottom - and the two men rolled over. Right off the bed. They landed with a heavy thud and several strong words from Bones. Jim rushed forward, concerned about the health of his lovers. He'd let it go on too long; he should have stopped them before it came to a physical fight.

Jim rounded the bed and found Bones straddling Spock, the Vulcan's shirt gripped tightly in his fists. They were both breathing heavily but, from what he could see, otherwise unhurt. Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He would never forgive himself if one of them actually got hurt because of him. He might not tell them how he felt but that didn't mean that Jim didn't care.

"Boys, boys," Jim said, leaning casually against the door frame, "Don't fight... There's more than enough of me to go around."

Spock and Bones both turned to face Jim, their faces flushed from exertion. He gave them his best, most charming grin. For a moment they all just stared at each other. Then Spock and Bones lunged for Jim.

Outside, in the hallway, the security officer had crept back up to Lt. Spock's room. He laughed out loud as he listened to the ship's captain scream like a girl.

Bones and Spock fell onto the bed, trying to stifle their laughter. They'd wedged a chair under the handle on the closet door, locking Jim inside in what Bones assured Spock was an ancient Earth method of confinement passed down from one teenager to another. Jim shouted and Bones had to press a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

They stared at each other, grinning in triumph. Neither of them could remember the last time they'd worked together on anything without fighting. They certainly couldn't remember a time they had ever had fun together. Normally, they were too busy bickering over Jim. It had never occurred to them that they could have their own fun – without Jim. Until now.

Jim was shouting again but neither Spock nor Bones noticed. Almost without realizing it, they moved forward, closing the distance between them, falling into each other's embrace.

"Let me out," Jim called. He shoved once more against the door, throwing his shoulder into it, but it was no use. Somehow, they'd managed to lock him in the closet. A row of hangers prodded him in the back; he shoved them out of the way. With a sigh of frustration, Jim let his head fall forward against the door.

This was a new – and not very pleasant - development. Spock and Bones had never ganged up on him before. As far as he knew, they couldn't stand each other. They were only ever civil to each other when Jim was around – and sometimes not even then. Now, they had united to punish him by... What? Leaving him in this closet all night? If this got out to the rest of the crew, he'd never live it down... The great Captain Kirk held captive in a closet, of all places. By his boyfriends, of all people.

What was that? Jim pressed his ear against the door, straining to hear something – anything - from the room beyond. He thought he'd heard a noise... Like a sigh... But there was no noise now. It must have been his imagination. No... There it was again! It was a sigh. Was that Bones?

"Bones?" he called, "Spock?"

There was no answer. Instead, Jim heard a husky chuckle and then the whisper of cloth against flesh.

"Hey!" he shouted, banging a fist on the door. "What the hell is going on out there?"

Nothing. Jim listened, his ear still pressed against the door, waiting for some clue to tell him what his lovers were up to. He waited, growing impatient...

"Oh!" That was definitely Spock. What the hell could Bones have possibly done to elicit such a response from the stoic Vulcan? And why the hell wasn't he doing it to him?

Jim pouted, kicking a pair of boots aside in frustration. So that was his punishment: the two men who had spent the last few years fighting over Jim, vying for his attention, had turned the tables. They wanted to hear him beg, did they? Well, he wouldn't! He was James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise, leader of men and he did not beg.

"That's enough," he shouted. "I demand that you release me this instant! That's an order!"

The only answer he received was a low moan that made his cock leap to life in response.

It wasn't just punishment, it was torture. Jim could imagine all too clearly what was happening on the other side of the door...

Bones would lift Spock's shirt above his head and toss it aside. Then he would run his talented hands over Spock's stomach, caressing the muscles of his chest, maybe even teasing the hard little nipples... Spock would press his lips together, trying – out of habit – not to express his pleasure. It would become harder as Bones slid his hands down to the waistband of Spock's trousers, slowly unfastening them. It would become nearly impossible to restrain his pleasure as Bones shoved the trousers and underpants down Spock's lean hips, following the garments to the floor. And when Bones took Spock in his mouth, the Vulcan would lose all control of his emotions, crying out...


"Boys...," Jim called in a weak voice. "Let me out. Please," Jim begged, pounding the door.


Yes, he was James Tiberius Kirk. Yes, he was captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Yes, he was a leader... But he was also a man. Just a man. A man who currently had a throbbing cock and felt like he was about to explode.

"Bones? Spock? Please let me out. I'm sorry." There. He wasn't just begging; they had him apologising as well. He was suppose to be having hot, sweaty sex right now. Instead, he was locked in a closet, begging – actually begging for attention. The things a man would do for sex.

Jim waited, sure they would release him now. Why wouldn't they? They'd proven their point and now they'd let him out so he could join in. They would all have a good laugh at Jim then they would climb into bed together and carry on with the hot, sweaty sex. He just had to wait and they would let him out... Any minute now... Any minute...

The sounds of lovemaking were growing louder from the other room, forcing Jim to finally admit that his lovers had no intention of letting him out - at least not before they'd finished. Jim backed up until he stood against the wall of the closet and slid to the floor, uniforms hanging on either side of him. He dropped his head, staring at the front of his trousers which were stretched tight under the strain of his now painful erection.


Well, he thought, unfastening his trousers, As long as I'm being punished, I may as well give myself a good beating...