Artwork by Ariel

Commander Spock is a flawless chess player who masterfully crushes Kirk, but Kirk just comes back for more punishment.

Kirk doesn't like losing, but it's a privilege to play with the phenomenal Mr. Spock, who teaches new tricks with every game. James Kirk enjoys learning. He also enjoys the way he can occasionally surprise Spock...like now!

Spock, who has just announced impending mate, is irritated to realize Jim's illogical, suicidal move postpones the inevitable and prolongs the torture.

Spock reacts, Jim grins. That bad blood may be Spock's weakness, but it's Jim's power. Jim likes his own bad blood.

Kirk's meetings, unlike Pike's, were usually informal. He often left his seat to stroll around, as he did while discussing this latest memo from headquarters about the liberating changes in fraternisation policies.

While passing, he gently, unconsciously, dropped a hand on Spock's shoulder.

Spock was stunned. He shivered slightly as his mind felt another mind's softest caress.

Jim's hand slowly dragged from Spock's shoulder and across his back as he moved on.

An unfamiliar sensation. Spock followed with his eyes as Jim circled back to his seat, and a sweet new ache told him his life, also, was now changed.

"Mr. Spock..." Captain Kirk asked, "...the Vulcanlike Romulans love ale, but Vulcans don't use alcohol, do they?"

"Followers of Surak eschew all intoxicating substances. Since modern Vulcan social behaviors are patterned on Surak's teachings...no.

"A thousand years ago, battles were fought over the possession of every tiny body and trickle of water. A great drought, and world-wide famine, drove desperate people to eat plants that were known to be poisonous; some proved hallucinogenic. Widespread madness led to horrific atrocities. It wasn't 'a big block party'."

"So I shouldn't offer you any Saurian brandy...?"

"Actually, I'd like some. Thank you."

"How does it feel? Do me!"

"Jim, I must advise against it."

"Can you teach it to me? How does it work?

"I could show you, I could explain it, but you couldn't master it."

"Don't underestimate me! Give me a chance!"

"It's more than a matter of knowing or skill. It requires certain abilities you don't possess."

"I want to know how it feels. Is it like dying? Is it a shock?"

"I wouldn't know. I've never polled my victims."

"You could poll me! Where's your scientific curiosity!?"

Jim's wicked grin spread as he realized he'd sunk the hook.

Blood fever is aptly named. Everything everywhere looked red. Spock's blood shrieked like a hurricane in his brain. The frenzy, a thirsty demon, was demanding a blood sacrifice.

~This was for *you*, it's all about *you*.~

He tightened the ahn-whoon around his opponent's neck, and felt him weakening. His victory would soon be complete.

Then Jim desperately touched his mind to say, ~"I trust you. Do what you must. I'm yours."~

Spock saw his image reflected in Jim's eyes. He saw their grandchildren...

Then Jim was gone.

Spock suddenly realized he had just destroyed his own best chance for happiness.

Captain Kirk woke in sickbay. He recognized the familiar smell and sounds before he opened his eyes, so he wasn't surprised to see Dr. McCoy's face hovering over him.

He felt groggy. He felt the hot sting of the lirpa cut that had been sliced across his heart, and remembered.

"Bo! Spock!?" he croaked.

"He's fine as far as I know. He's still down there."

"Wha...?"

"Relax, Jim. I slipped you a mickey. The effect is wearing off but you are not ready to get up yet."

"Ready or not, I goddoo fbims jflir!" Jim asserted, struggling weakly to rise.

With Captain Kirk dead, Spock felt no need to linger in his hated home town. He beamed back up to the Enterprise and presented himself to Dr. McCoy in sickbay, where (to his astonishment) he found Jim was waiting for him.

Alive!

Spock's blood hadn't cooled. His emotions were still so close to the surface that he reacted before he thought, and embraced Jim.

Jim loved it!

Kirk realized they had to get away from McCoy immediately. That man had already done (and seen) enough. He streamlined the debriefing procedure, then grabbed Spock like a football and ran with him.

Spock sensed immediately that Kirk was hot for him. It was inoffensive. Kirk behaved professionally, ultimately becoming the closest thing to a real friend he'd ever had. Spock learned to trust Jim, confiding in him, which is how Jim knew what to do when the time was ripe.

Kirk admires Spock, and felt responsible for his life. He was dying of curiosity. He was bored and horny. He recognized a golden opportunity, and mined the fuck out of it.

Minutes after Spock (sizzling and still anxious) returned from Kun-ut-kallee-fee, Scott had the conn; Kirk had the tiger by the tail.

After being rejected by his Vulcan bride-to-be, Spock was open to suggestions.

Kirk had an idea or two, as Spock already knew.

Hidden away in Spock's cabin, Jim again offered himself to Spock for a playmate. Spock, this time desperate for relief, accepted.

Jim pressed a kiss on Spock's firm, hot lips. He intruded his tongue, and surprised, Spock recoiled. Jim insisted that Spock reciprocate. They tried again.

When Spock timidly touched Jim's tongue with his own, Jim hungrily sucked it into his mouth.

Jim's fierce enthusiasm so thrilled Spock, then, that he suddenly was pleased with his weird luck.

"Kiss me" Kirk said. "Really kiss me this time."

Captain Kirk had given Mr. Scott the conn and was now secluded with his first officer Spock in Spock's quarters. Since Spock had returned to him instead of assuaging his mating drive with the Vulcan female he had been betrothed to, Jim figured that was a green light to try what he'd been itching to try for months.

Spock was awkward and unsure. Jim Kirk wasn't.

"Spock, it's better if you meet me half-way. Do what I do. Imitate me. Gimmee some tongue. And be *gentle*, but not ~too gentle~, OK?"

Pon Farr transformed the aloof Mr. Spock into an anxious sexual adventurer. Thrilled, Captain Kirk arranged a private confrontation.

Alone with Spock at last. He had dreamt of this. Jim wanted to go slow and explore carefully, but it quickly became clear Spock had no patience for such niceties. A gentle attempt to undress Spock seductively quickly became a wrestling match which Jim couldn't hope to win.

"OK, tough guy, you wanna play rough?" Jim laughed, and relaxed, playing dead. He wasn't going to risk getting hurt.

Spock was mollified by Jim's submission, and his touch became timid and tender.

Kirk had wondered how to begin with Spock, but Spock decided the matter for them both. He probed Kirk's imagination and dug up some of Jim's juicier memories. That got the ball rolling beautifully.

Kirk found himself reliving his first blowjob, and some other memorable close encounters of the oral kind, and didn't remember that he was actually only dreaming with Spock until he accidentally tumbled backwards out of Spock's bunk, pants around his ankles.

They had broken contact unexpectedly and Kirk was temporarily disoriented. When Spock reached for him his first shocked reaction was to crawl backwards beyond Spock's reach.

Kirk was drained from Spock's oral attacks, but Spock was not tired nor sated, so Jim figured the time was right to turn around and return the favor.

He had been wanting to try it, anyway. He had been salivating for Spock's dick for a long time.

Kirk groped for Spock's cock and it turned out Spock was ticklish down there. He flipped Jim like a pancake with a roar.

Jim wormed away, just as Spock was about to mount him from behind.

"Spock!" Jim shouted, alarmed. "There's a first time for everything, but PLEASE, ONE THING AT A TIME!"

After they left Vulcan, Spock was still feverish for a few days. Kirk had to put in the occasional appearance, but he found ways to set aside a lot of time for Spock, as Spock weathered Pon Farr as no Vulcan had before.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.

Hidden away in Spock's cabin, Jim and Spock enjoyed sucking each other off. When they weren't doing that, they indulged in some ribald, hilarious conversations.

At one point Kirk was helpless, convulsed with laughter, as Spock pronounced, deadpan, every euphemism for cocksucking used in the known galaxy, categorized by culture, in alphabetical order.

Spock awakened feeling ferociously hungry. His memories of his Pon Farr adventure were garbled. His feverish brain stored images from hallucinations and actual occurrences with equal fidelity, without retaining any distinction between them.

While hiding in his quarters to devour a replicated Vulcan feast, Spock received a surprise visit from his Captain. It wasn't until after Spock heard Jim's voice and saw his smile that his more bizarre dreams snapped into focus, becoming memories...

... of strong, sure, insistent human hands on his body... mischievous hazel eyes finding his in the mist... and a playful voice asking, "Buddy, is this OK?"

Spock's blood cooled, and he felt self-possessed again. He sensed he had passed through a life-changing experience, but the details at first were fuzzy.

When he realized that his playmates, the nymphs, had been only fantasies, and that James Kirk had been his actual partner, Spock blanched, then experienced a peculiar mixture of strong emotions.

He couldn't help but love Jim, with an overpowering sense of finality, but the reasoning side of his mind reeled with horror. Jim couldn't possibly have understood what titanic instinctive forces would ensnare them. Even Spock wasn't certain, but he knew enough to be terrified.

The shower sprayed directly on Jim Kirk's chest. The thin, pink scar of the lirpa cut was sensitive, reddening as the hot water washed over it.

Jim punched the dispenser for a dollop of soap and lathered up. Stepping away from the spray, he soaped himself all over, then grasped his razor.

Jim shaved his face and his chest. He oddly preferred a straight razor, like a nineteenth-century man. As he began shaving he thought again of Spock, and the lirpa cut, and strangely, this gave him an erection.

On a whim, he shaved his pubic area, balls and all.

Spock avoided the bridge for a while after his wedding-day debacle. Nobody blamed him.

Kirk granted the conn to Sulu, Chekov, and others more than usual for a few days. Why not? They were on a milk run.

McCoy noticed Kirk was harder to find than usual. When he was to be found he seemed distracted, but nothing too worrisome.

Nobody really missed Spock, but when he resumed his regular schedule in such fine spirits, they were actually glad to have him around for once.

Spock had returned, the Captain took his seat again, and everything was back to normal.

Spock got over the shock and Kirk caught up on his rest. The experiment was successful. Spock *didn't* need a woman to weather Pon Farr. A revelation!

As any Vulcan's might, Spock's sexual urge then went to sleep. For how long? No one could guess. Spock assumed years, and he was prepared for that, but not for what soon happened.

Less than a month after Spock's blood had cooled, he complained to Jim privately about a most unsettling recurring experience of no small concern.

Jim barely suppressed a happy laugh.

"Spock... it's called 'Wet Dreams', and it's no big deal!"

Kirk asked, "Why didn't you tell me about Pon Farr before?"

"I believed it wouldn't effect us." Spock explained. "Pon Farr is the Vulcan fertility cycle, and I am certainly infertile."

"How do you know?"

"Jim, I am a rather exotic hybrid. Hybrids typically are infertile."

Jim's eyes twinkled. "You seem plenty fertile to me!"

"Don't confuse virility with fertility", Spock intoned. "A mule, which is a horse/ass hybrid, doesn't realize he's infertile. His bloodstream is flooded with male hormones, he knows desire, and experiences the mating urge."

So, you'll have this Vulcan-type cycle now?

"Unknown. Possibly. Time will tell."

Now that the very unusual Captain of the Enterprise was also his lover, Spock realized he had much to learn. He was particularly avid to perfect his understanding of Jim's many erotic fetishes.

"Jim, about receiving what you Earthmen call 'a spanking' - What is the attraction?"

Jim small smile grew as he explained:

"It's the humiliation, the heat, the feeling that somebody passionately cares about you and what you do. It's the pain, that becomes a glowing, hot, itchy, voluptuous *spotlight* on a usually neglected but very sexy, very personal part of your body.

It's the heat, mainly!"

Jim grinned.

Dr. McCoy didn't like that Kirk spent most of his free time with Spock, lately.

McCoy missed being Kirk's confidant, but more: he strongly suspected that Spock was improperly influencing the Captain. He knew about Spock's powers, and shuddered to think that Spock might be misusing them.

When confronted with McCoy's fears, Kirk was reassuring.

"Bones...I appreciate your concern, but relax! If it looks like I can't handle it on my own, I'll call you."

"With all due respect, Captain, I'll decide for myself how it looks. You have a right to your privacy, but I have my duty!"

Kirk heard McCoy's complaint about Spock, then talked with Spock about McCoy's suspicions.

"McCoy says we seem too chummy. Is he right? If we, you and I, are doing anything that seems seriously off to him, he must speak up about it, and I'm obliged to listen. It's his job, and mine.

"My opinion, and yours, aren't the only ones that matter. We, all of us, are a team. You have to work with McCoy as well as with me."

Spock raised a supercilious eyebrow.

"Not nearly so closely, I don't think" he deadpanned.

Simultaneously, Jim laughed "Within reasonable limits!"

The kironide injections given by Doctor McCoy worked very well. After escaping Platonius, Captain James Kirk and Commander Spock retained their psychokinetic ability for a few days. They kept their discovery secret, but nevertheless derived huge amusement in private from their temporary powers.

It took Spock longer, but when his power kicked in it was very strong. He was able to mentally levitate Jim and manipulate him easily, which inspired them to try some daring mid-air sex games.

Jim fell and got some large bruises when Spock lost control during orgasm. He didn't show them to Doctor McCoy. Why bother?

"I never wanted to live that life." Jim Kirk earnestly explained. "It's nothing personal. I never dreamed once of playing house with some guy, wearing nothing but an apron that says Kiss The Cook, picking out bedroom curtains together!

"I love you. I never loved anyone like I love you. It's not fair to compare the way I feel about any woman to the way I feel about you. I live and die for you. But my point is I'm not giving up my command to marry."

"My point is if I were a woman you would." Spock stated flatly.

Spock's life has been a lonely, painful one, rich in hardship and humiliation. Kirk knows. Spock finds no easy acceptance anywhere, except with Jim.

The rare woman considers Spock, but in all the galaxy, only two people have genuinely loved him. His mother Amanda, and his Captain James Kirk. The saddest irony? They hate each other.

When Amanda caught wind of Spock's love for Jim, she made her disapproval felt. Kirk didn't like that, and let her know it.

Kirk finds it harder now to sweeten and lighten Spock's coffee-black heart, but he keeps trying. What else can he do?

Sarek and Amanda learned that their son Spock had found a new way to weather Pon Farr: with a man. Specifically, with Captain Kirk.

Amanda rushed to Spock to beg him to tell her it wasn't true. His response neither confirmed nor denied the report, which was as good as an admission.

Amanda, devastated, complained to Sarek, blaming James Kirk.

The Vulcans had no laws against homosexuality, since it had never happened among them. Sarek's response was quite different. He thought it rather odd, he couldn't picture how it could work...but he thought Spock's bride was an interesting choice.

Neither Amanda nor Spock encouraged Sarek and Kirk to talk, but neither Kirk nor Sarek would have been swayed by their opposition.

When Sarek returned from an afternoon with Kirk, his wife wouldn't listen, but his Vulcan aides were naturally curious.

"Strange," Sarek said, "...the man didn't realize that we'd regard the partnership as a marriage. I marvel that Spock has told him so little about us. He didn't know I was Spock's father until this journey.

"A fascinating man: enlightened and intelligent. To the Terrans this makes him my son. In my view, this seems a very positive development."

"What Captain Kirk has done is a crime!" Amanda insisted. "He took advantage of Spock when he was most vulnerable, and apparently for selfish gain. Don't reward him for this!"

"I'm sure you are wrong about Kirk, my wife. I am convinced this is a true marriage, and my decision is final."

"Well, it's not only up to you! There are laws above Vulcan laws, you know! Did you ever hear of the laws of God?"

"Yes, but they are of no importance in this matter."

"We shall see. There are many who won't dismiss them so lightly as you do."

After chatting with Sarek about his partnership with Spock, Jim Kirk felt elated. It was a strain to keep such a stupendous secret, and it was a relief just to talk with somebody.

"I enjoy Sarek," Jim told Spock later. "I understand now why he's the ambassador. He was very understanding. One thing bothers me: he thinks I'm your *wife*. How come!?"

"Clearly, because I'm the man." Spock deadpanned.

"I Beg Your Pardon!?"

"Jim," Spock explained, "It's that, by Vulcan law, before marriage I must first be recognized as a man."

"Oh. Okay. Just don't go getting any funny ideas!"

"It's good you agreed to this, Jim. We'll gain many significant advantages." Spock said.

"What happens next?"

"It is done. The Ambassador is empowered by the Vulcan to formalize contracts and other agreements. It's enough that he recognized us. This will be kept confidential unless documentation becomes required, then that will be quietly made available."

"Amanda isn't too happy about it. Can she be trusted to keep quiet?"

Spock sighed. "Sarek will manage."

"One thing I like about Vulcans..." Jim said, "...they know how to keep their mouths shut."

"And when that is, and is not, appropriate!" Spock impishly added.

A welcome respite. Kirk encouraged his people to enjoy their leave, then stole away to meet Spock.

They started with a shower, and spent an inordinate amount of time there, soaping each other all over, pressing their wet, soapy bodies together, kissing passionately. They crushed their erect cocks together between their bodies, dueling playfully, talking dirty. They came this way, then rinsed clean, towelled off, and called room service.

"A huge salad, no dressing, greens only. A deluxe cheeseburger with extra onion rings, two beers, and a slice of mincemeat pie. Oh! Onion on the salad too! I love onions!"

Spock decided to try an experiment. He allowed himself to be frequently seen with a certain attractive young crew-woman who happened to be new aboardship. He convinced her to join him at chess; encouraged her to pluck his lyre.

As expected, Kirk began to interfere, finding fault with the poor girl, shifting her schedule around to frustrate Spock. ~Very Interesting~.

The renegade who tortured Kirk was having fun. He'd given up on trying to extract information, and satisfied himself with making Jim scream.

A sudden rush of activity. Hanging by his feet, his own piss in his eyes, Kirk couldn't see much. Then strong but gentle arms lowered him to the cold stone floor.

It was Spock.

Blinking back tears, he saw in Spock's hand a sticky red lump.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Spock growled.

It was the torturer's heart.

Jim moaned, delirious. "Oh, daddy, daddy, daddy... ohhh."

Spock gathered Jim's battered body into his arms and bore him swiftly away.

Captain Waylon Crow enjoyed meeting Captain Kirk. Their amusing conversation ranged all over the map.

Crow asked at one point, "How's that Vulcan working out?"

"Great." Kirk seemed nonchalant.

"You're the first guy who's worked with him to say so. A pretty weird one, I heard."

Kirk straightened. "He's pretty outstanding, Way. He's a miracle. When my butt's in a sling I'd rather call him than God. My opinion? He should be next in line for admiral."

"Never happen. He doesn't play the game."

"Neither do I" Jim's eyes narrowed. "What do they want? Some kinda song and dance man?"

A long two months. Much love and pain. Jim mourned still for Miramanee.

"Spock, I understand you beamed down five minutes before I saw you! Where the hell were you!?"

The anguish in Jim's voice is in Spock's heart. He answers gently.

"Answering nature's call. I knew not at that time that your situation was so dire. Most regrettable."

"Regrettable!? That five minutes made all the difference! She didn't need to die! That's beyond regrettable, good God!"

Nature, although logical, is sometimes cruel. Spock saw the goings on and waited. He'd play the hero for Jim, but not for her.

Before returning to the ship and regular duty, Spock and Jim worked like driven oxen harnessed together at the hip to weary of one another's company.

Jim loved the feeling of being fully stuffed with Spock's hot dick. It's true: men can experience multiple orgasms. Hallelujah!

After, Spock's oily cum was having its usual laxative effect.

"Jim, close the door." Spock groused.

"You know what I don't understand? How come when we are in bed I can fart right in your face and you don't care, but if I'm a few feet away, suddenly it's a problem!? Explain That, Professor!"

Normally it was easy to tolerate them.

When women normally met James, they didn't have long to play with him and understood that: they knew why he wouldn't stay, and accepted it. In this case, Keeler had no reason to believe forever wasn't a possibility. James gave her no reason.

Spock certainly wasn't going to compromise the mission (or lower himself) to do so.

It was a mercy there was much work to do. Work is certainly a solace. It's always more profitable to concentrate upon technical problems than to try to plumb the mysterious depths of Jim's duplicitous psyche.

They went to her place, naturally.

Spock dove beneath her skirt at first chance and started licking her cunt, which got things rolling nicely. She sucked Jim's cock a bit, until Spock pulled her down to the floor. A momentary awkwardness.

While riding Spock's face, she and Jim fought for Spock's cock, giggling. Jim won. He knelt astride it, sat down hard, then leaned back and offered her his dick again to suck.

A ferocious lightning storm delayed shuttle liftoff. The rain poured down, a wall of water, illuminated by explosive thunderbolts.

"That's beyond raining cats and dogs: it's raining cows and camels!" Kirk enthused. Spock agreed.

They rented a room and hit the sheets. Kirk tongued Spock's cock up and straddled it, riding joyfully, stroking his prick while Spock pinched his nipples, hard. That was one. On his hands and knees while Spock plowed him from behind, smacking him on the ass, two.

While the storm raged, they noisily raised hell. Jim pinned below was three.

"Yee-ha! Impressive storm. A real gully-whumper!"

Before she returned from the ladies room, her fate was decided. Kirk turned on the charm full blast, and convinced her to bring both himself and Spock home with her that night, since she couldn't seem to decide whom she liked best.

Before long they found a perfect way to involve everyone. Spock sat in the armchair with his phallus snugly lodged in the woman's ass. She sat back, legs wide open, and Kirk knelt between her legs, toying with her tits while he fucked her.

They'd tried the bed but unfortunately the cheap-ass thing couldn't support their combined weight.

The shuttle shimmied violently. Kirk and Spock wrestled with the controls. It was manual everything. Their descent was too steep: the craft was burning up.

Sweat in his eyes, Jim screamed, "This was my fault! If we survive this I want you to give me a long, hard, pants-down spanking! Promise me!"

They survived the landing, which tore a long scar in the landscape.

Relieved, Spock mocked Kirk.

"Nice work, plowboy! How does it feel to have fucked a whole world!?"

Jim fell, laughing hysterically, glad to be alive. Then he saw Spock advancing to keep his promise, and RAN.

There's only so many times and ways you can do the same thing, no matter how delightful, before it becomes dull. Spock and Kirk are highly motivated to experiment, which has led them to some interesting variations.

Their latest discovery: If Spock sits on the edge of the bed (or stands) with his cock in Jim's ass, and they hold hands, Kirk can flip back (legs around Spock's waist, head down) which gives him a dizzying rush, and makes it possible (if Spock bends himself nearly in half) for Spock to suck him off while fucking.

Isn't that just grand!?

"Didja ever notice how often we end up licking ice cream off each other in those stories?" Jim asks.

"How often so-called fans forget I am a vegetarian." Spock replies. "Perhaps they are unaware of the composition of typical ice cream."

"Spock. You don't have to kill a cow for milk, unlike with meat."

"Both milk and eggs are products of animal's bodies and, more precisely, of their exploitation."

"I guess since you eat meat they figured you'd eat ice cream."

"Since when do I...?"

"Since you met me!" Jim winks.

"Was that you?" Spock deadpans. "It was ~so dark~."

Safely hidden away in their rented room, Spock and Jim Kirk sixty-nined until their jaws ached and they both felt drained and sated. After a short nap, a refreshed Kirk leapt up, claimed a bath towel, and turned on the shower.

"Why are you doing that?" Spock asked. "There is no need."

"I feel the need Spock," Jim replied. "I'm sweaty."

"It is inoffensive." Spock warmly assured Jim.

Jim poked his head out of the shower to pierce Spock with his gaze. He wore a peculiar expression.

"Spock..." Jim spoke slowly, "...it's OK to like sweat, but...don't admit it!"

Spock approved, but Jim for no obvious reason felt the need to chatter on, justifying his fastidious habit.

"I bathe as often as I do for good reason. I have allergies. My own sweat gives me a rash. I could limit what I eat, but I... wouldn't rather do that. Once in my life I didn't have any choice. It was eat what I didn't like, or starve. I put up with the headaches, gutaches and rashes long enough: I learned they wouldn't kill me. Now I put up with them because it's a small price to pay for freedom."

Whenever Spock and Jim needed some privacy to really talk, they hid in Spock's cabin, since he never got visitors like Jim constantly did.

A standard King's Indian deferred. The game itself wasn't very interesting. Their conversation was light at first, but Jim became still and grave once Spock warmed to his topic.

Spock pronounced these carefully chosen words:

"Instinct is not conscious." Spock enunciated portenteously. "Vulcans think themselves utterly rational, but in fact they become incorrigibly dependent upon their mates for identity and purpose, to an utterly irrational degree."

Jim saw his reflection, mirrored twins, in Spock's obsidian gaze.

The Enterprise ruled the wargames. Kirk happily accompanied the other Captains to a nightclub for a rare chance to celebrate with his own rare breed.

Jim returned drunk, wide awake, and still high on fresh glory. Spock thought it wise to escort him to his cabin.

Good call! Jim was upon him instantly! Spock deftly wrestled Jim into submission. Then he let him go, and did it again. Again. Repeatedly, until Jim, exhausted, finally surrendered himself to Spock for a slow, tender fuck.

He giggled childishly as Spock delicately kissed his throat and ears.

"Aw, cut out the mushy stuff!"

Two Starfleet officers, one obviously not human, crossed the lobby bearing no luggage. The handsome Terran was their spokesman.

"Good morning! My...associate and I need a private and hopefully quiet place to talk things over. Can we rent a small conference room for a couple of hours?"

No such room available. How about a regular single room? The Terran shrugged acceptance, and took the key.

Turning away from the clerk, Jim winked at Spock.

Once ensconsed, their lovemaking was unexpectedly delayed. They both were taken by an ingenious new entertainment device. For an hour they played like two children.

Life aboard the Enterprise had been routine for two weeks and Captain Kirk loved it. It gave his eager junior officers a chance to sit in the big chair, which thrilled them. Jim remembered a similar thrill from his younger days, and honored his obligation to share the joy.

Baloney! Dull days and nights meant he could make love with Spock for hours, playing elaborate love-games that required using his special kit.

Amused, Spock inventoried the contents.

"Enema bag...rope...duct tape...a rather worn leather belt...a ping-pong ball?"

Jim saluted, smiling brightly.

"A good scout is always prepared!"

The Captain of the Enterprise (in public), was (in private) a work-in-progress. Spock had finally decided to manage Jim Kirk's masochistic urges himself, which Jim was happy about - for one whole day. Jim impulsively surrendered his bag of S/M paraphernalia (and all related decisions) to Spock, and almost immediately regretted it.

Jim thought the terms should remain open for negotiation, but Spock wanted carte blanche.

"Spock, I can't let just any crazy old thing happen to me. We've got to agree to some reasonable limits!" Jim asserted.

"Correct. Therefore, I shall set the limits, and you shall agree to them."

Spock disapproved of Jim using the leather belt and whip on himself. Processed animal skins. Disgusting. He didn't care much for certain Terran traditions. First thing, he had to confiscate Jim's toy bag.

It is for the best if Jim learns to depend on me for the gratification of his perverse needs, Spock thought.

Spock realized that the old leather razor strop was an antique - that Jim would never forgive him for disposing of that - but he boldly replaced the whip and belt with a rubber strap, and a rattan cane. He chose these for their suitably Victorian flavor.

At Starbase 12, Kirk and Spock went shopping, but didn't find any interesting new S/M toys that Spock liked at the hardware supply nor at the pharmacy. They weren't actually going to be seen at the "Adult" store. Unthinkable.

They made do with Jim's old things. Meanwhile, Spock created an anonymous purchasing account and engaged in a little mail-ordering.

When they stopped again for cargo, among the bins and barrels, there was a mysterious package for the Captain.

Jim (who'd been warned to expect this) knew to take it to his quarters, and to wait for Spock, before opening it.

Spock told Jim to meet him in his quarters later to open the mystery package that had arrived. Jim knew it must be some new toy that they would share, but whether to anticipate the unveiling with pleasure or dread he didn't know...so he did both.

Twenty-hundred, finally! While Spock watched, Jim drew forth from the box a floppy, shiny black object with a long tube attached. It was a large black rubber enema bag.

"Whoa! How big is it?" Jim asked, awestruck.

"One gallon" Spock stated, serenely.

Jim's eyes grew wide. "Is that humanly possible!?"

"We shall see."

Spock retired Jim's old two-quart red bag when the new black gallon one arrived. The one was sufficient.

Spock ordered Jim to prepare for his water-torture. Jim obeyed, finding everything he needed in Spock's bath. He showered and shaved, removing even his body hair, per Spock's request.

Trembling with excitement, Jim clamped the hose, and filled the bag with comfortably hot water. He hung the bag, then softly called to Spock.

"I'm ready, sir."

Spock approached, bondage ropes in hand.

When he saw Spock's severe expression, Jim spontaneously sank to his knees.

What's nice about enemas? They leave no marks.

Their urges spent, Spock waited while Jim napped.

He quietly gathered up the tools and sexual toys they had employed and returned them to Jim's duffle-bag, which was then returned to its place under Spock's cot.

Spock watched Jim sleeping (half-covered by the twisted sheet) and allowed his gaze to travel along the curved outline of Jim's body, while trying to see it as an abstract shape, devoid of emotional content, without success.

"I am in love with him." Spock thought. He relished that thought, and his thrilling memories, as he delicately kissed the rope burn on Jim's left wrist.

Spock surreptitiously "borrowed" super-strong medical restraints, and fastened them to his bunk in a secure manner which satisfied his requirements. He bathed, then sat at his desk clad in only a robe, awaiting Kirk's arrival.

Jim was always early or late, never punctual. Tonight he arrived 4.36 minutes early; smiling mischievously, eager to begin.

On the bedside table, the canvas bag containing their erotic toys lay open, gaping invitingly.

Jim waited for the door to close and lock, waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of Spock's cabin, then adopted a belligerent attitude and began the game.

Spock wearied of playing the "master" to Jim Kirk's "slave". Jim's confrontational style did not harmonize with Spock's deep desire to remain balanced within. Jim had proved uncannily skillful at provoking emotions like anger, and for Spock this part of Jim's perverse game was humiliating.

In a flash of insight Spock saw that to teach Jim a lesson he could give him a taste of his own medicine. Toward that end he persuaded Jim to swap roles for a night.

Only after he was bound spread-eagle, naked, helpless in Jim's power, did Spock realize he'd made a biiiiiiiig mistake.

Jim was thrilled when Spock shyly suggested that the time was right to switch. Jim, an expert in the art of sadomasochism, valued a chance to dazzle Spock as a top.

But as he planned the evening's menu, he grew perplexed. How could he help Spock feel the joy of helpless submission, when being out of his own control was the thing Spock hated the most?

And what if Spock liked it too much? Kirk didn't want to be stuck topping Spock forever.

- Give Spock a proper taste without getting him addicted -

This was the goal Jim set for himself.

This was terrible. Spock strove against against the rope, bucking wildly on the bed, to no avail.

He had been driven to the very frayed tip of his wit's end by Jim's maddening erotic torture technique: slow masturbation. Spock, securely tied to his bed, had been teased seductively along, very near to the brink of release several times, by Jim's knowing hands, without relief.

The teasing and pleasing was wonderful, but the no relief part had worn thin.

Exasperated, desperate, Spock blurted, "Finish this!"

"Well, *sometimes* the pig kills the butcher..." Jim grinned, "...but usually it's the other way around!"

Spock had been tied to his bed for hours, twisting helplessly, while Jim tortured him by toying playfully with his green cock. Spock finally became cross, and demanded to be released - one way or another.

"Or you'll do what?" Jim chortled. "You're in no position to argue!"

Spock almost threatened to repay these indignities, then stopped. That is exactly what his masochistic lover was wanting. Instead, he tried logic.

"Jim..." Spock growled, "...you can not keep me here. Eventually circumstances will compel you to release me."

"I suppose so" Jim replied, philosophically, eyes twinkling. "But until then, suck my dick!"

After being slowly masturbated without being allowed to cum ~for hours~, Spock wanted revenge.

When Jim knelt astraddle Spock's shoulders and bent his stiff cock down to Spock's lips, Spock saw his chance. He meekly opened his mouth for Jim's meat...then bit down hard and started chewing.

Jim saw stars and squealed with pain. He tried to pull away, but Spock's jaws held fast to the tortured appendage.

"Owww! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

~Unbind me NOW~ Spock telepathically demanded.

"Okay! O-KAY!" Jim wailed, and yanked open the knots that held Spock's hands.

Within seconds, Spock was back on top, roaring.

Kirk said, "I will probably never say this to anyone else, Spock, because I seriously doubt that anyone else will inspire me to do so, but also because I am fairly certain no one else would understand.

We are God. No person alone is God, people in general aren't God, but you and I together are God. That's not what I learned in Sunday school, I learned that from you.

Here's what I learned in Sunday school. When you are God, it's best to keep quiet about it. What they did to Jesus was just a warning. I've seen worse."

Spock's fantastic mind-melding ability, backed by his overwhelming mental power, combined with Jim's colorful, filthy, and irredeemably perverse imagination, spawned some incredibly vivid pornographic 3D mental adventures which Kirk and Spock loved exploring together during sex, perhaps too much.

It's one thing to enjoy a richly furnished pornotopia of the mind for an imaginary day, or year, but another thing entirely to waste a whole real day wallowing in dreams, hip-deep in semen soaked sheets. The Captain felt obliged to order his First Officer to pull the reins in on them both.

"Fun's fun, but this could become an addiction."

The Enterprise stopped at an out-of-the-way world for repairs. Kirk and Spock rented a room. They had a lot of catching up to do. They caught it with their mouths, and swallowed the evidence.

Exhilarated, Jim then convinced Spock to stroll with him to a scenic overlook to greet the alien dawn.

As Jim enjoyed the green and pink sky, Spock gravely reflected upon the poetic irony of the moment: Two unlikely lovers, on a remote world far removed from their points of origin, engaging in a common tourist's practice as if they were like anybody on any common tour.

Spock didn't normally linger long in bed, not even when he was with Kirk. He would stay wide awake while Jim slumbered, preferring to rise and fill his time productively.

Once he drifted blissfully near to sleep himself, beside Jim, when suddenly he was disturbed by a faint vibration. There it was again. He was first puzzled, then alarmed. Was something wrong with the ship?

No, the mood aboard was peaceful. All was well. Then he almost laughed when he recognized the pattern. It was the hammering of Jim's powerful heart!

Even in sleep, Jim can't help shaking things up.

One of his own people. Shocking!

"Show it to me" Captain Kirk said grimly.

The graffiti in the men's restroom was written in tiny, clearly printed letters in the grout area between two tiles above the center urinal. "Spock craves Kirk's cock" it declaimed.

"Here's another sir" the security officer said gently.

Sure enough, there was a similar message on the wall inside the end stall, over the paper dispenser.

"Spock wants to tongue-bathe Captain Kirk."

I want this handwriting analyzed!" Kirk exclaimed, outraged. "I want the perpetrator identified!"

"We have sir" The security officer said. "It's... Mr. Spock, sir."

Spock was now Captain Kirk's "special friend", and the crew accepted it, but Dr. McCoy was troubled by this development. He thought it was unhealthy for Kirk to be socially insulated by the forbidding, inscrutable Vulcan.

McCoy confronted Jim in private.

"Jim, how can you afford to let him stand between you and the rest of your officers and crew?"

"Bones, I think you're just jealous!"

Outraged, McCoy sputtered, "It's not that, and you know it!"

McCoy had forgotten that Kirk, a professional warrior, is also a masterful manipulator. Jim was ready for opposition. Heck, he'd been happily anticipating it.

Five years finished, gloriously. Captain Kirk expected a warm welcome at headquarters. To his dismay, he instead was called before a board of inquiry to answer questions - about Spock.

Jim thought this might be over Spock's creative solution to Pike's problem, but no. When Jim caught the drift of the conversation, he asked for time to consult a lawyer.

Amanda had accused Kirk of abusing his authority to establish a sexual relationship with Spock. Spock, when questioned, had done what he could to save Jim's reputation by accepting full responsibility himself.

Jim hadn't had a chance to say one word.

Jim couldn't believe that after five very distinguished years, that his career was threatened because of a completely private, personal matter.

A buddy from academy days, Commander Rob Harley, turned up in the bar while Jim was settling his nerves. He'd heard about Spock. Jim figured they might as well talk about it.

"What really doesn't make sense is how a Don Juan like you gets into a situation like this?" Harley had the balls to say.

Jim pierced Rob's eyes with a leveling gaze. "Harley, I'm no Don Juan."

"Hell of a reputation you got."

"Some reputations are undeserved."

Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Robert G. Harley were having a drink together and shooting the breeze. The pretty cocktail waitress couldn't leave them alone. Every time the conversation started getting good, she was all over them even though they didn't want her to be.

She was magnetically attracted to Kirk. This became obvious when she wiped the table in a way that pushed her breasts right into Kirk's face. Kirk didn't react.

"OK, great. Look, we'll wave if we need anything." Jim dismissed her.

"There you go." Harley sniggered.

"There *I* go!? *I* didn't _do anything_!" Kirk protested.

Spock was forbidden to warn Jim of the inquiry.

This wouldn't have happened if their marriage had already been a matter of public record, but Jim had wanted it kept secret, for security reasons, and Spock had agreed.

It wouldn't have helped if their enemies had understood the nature of their relationship. For this same reason, Spock hadn't broadcast the truth about his parentage. It certainly was not that he was ashamed.

Unfortunate, that to save Jim's career they were now forced to endure this embarrassment. He cared nothing about his own Starfleet career. He'd been intending to retire anyway.