A/N: I should be studying or working on Rumours, but while I was studying this story popped into my head and demanded to be written.
Jim Kirk has his first orgasm at twelve. Later, as an adult, he wonders if most people remember their first orgasm with the same clarity and frequency he does. Jim Kirk's first orgasm is always there in his mind, lurking, forcing its way into remembrance whenever it wants, shaping his sexuality and his life.
Twelve-year old Jim has a mother, a brother and a stepfather. His mother loves him, but apparently not enough to stay on the same planet as him for great lengths of time. His brother is older than him and does what he wants, those nights when he can't be bothered to come home mostly unnoticed by anyone but Jim. Their stepfather, Frank, believes in the use of corporal punishment when a child misbehaves. Despite this, Jim finds it impossible to behave all the time. Most of the time, he tries, but his frustration always builds and builds until it becomes too much, and before he knows it, he has blown something up or hit a teacher or driven a car off a cliff.
Jim has had erections before. Sometimes it's there when he wakes up, sometimes he feels a stirring in his pants when he looks at Miss Campbell's cleavage or Jennifer's thighs when she bends over while she's wearing her short skirt, revealing pink or white or light blue panties. Sometimes it happens when he's changing in the locker room and the other boys are changing, too, the room smelling of musk and sweat and naked bodies and his eyes surreptitiously glancing at those bodies, but he always makes sure no one sees.
He's never had an orgasm, though. He's tried a couple of times when he's been alone in his room, but it didn't really work. Maybe he did something wrong. Jim has never had an orgasm, but he has had an erection. Which is how he recognises what is happening when he's lying across Frank's lap, pink ass in the air, absorbing each stinging, warming blow of Frank's hand. He feels the stirring in his groin again, and he panics and prays to deities he doesn't believe in that Frank will stop the punishment before he notices.
With each impact of calloused hand against flushed velvet skin, more blood drifts downward, adding to his tumescence, and instead of hanging freely between Frank's denim-clad thighs, it is beginning to point toward one of them.
A particularly vicious blow has Jim bucking forward, and Frank stills, hand poised in the air. Jim's face begins to turn the same colour as his ass, and he wishes he could just die right now. Maybe Frank will kill him.
Frank doesn't kill him. Frank calls him a perverted freak, confirming what Jim is already thinking, and squeezes his thighs together, trapping Jim's hardness between them, and then his hand is coming down harder than before. Jim's body bounces with each blow, rocking him up and down against Frank's thighs, virgin cock rubbing against rough denim. His ass cheeks hurt and his cock is starting to hurt a little bit too, but there's something, some kind of feeling gathering in his abdomen making it all feel a little bit good as well, and he knows it's wrong and doesn't want it to feel good, but he can't help it.
There are tears running down his face, but he doesn't know if the sounds coming from his throat are moans or sobs. He feels better and worse than ever before, and the stinging pain is receding even as Frank continues striking him, turning into dull, warm throbbing, his skin numb to the abuse but not to the sensations causing him to feel like he's about to burst.
Frank squeezes his muscular thighs tighter together and places a well-aimed blow, and Jim is bucking helplessly, crying out as he thrusts wildly into the tight space between his stepfather's thighs, pleasure pulsing throughout his body against his will and despite his sore cock and numb ass cheeks.
Jim shivers and sobs, and Frank's hand massages one of the soft, pink globes, two of his fingers poking into Jim's ass crack as he grabs it like a handful of dough. Then he pushes Jim off his lap, letting him go to his room, and Jim desperately pulls his pants and underwear up from his ankles. He glances at Frank and notices two things: the way the crotch of his pants bulges obscenely, and a small smear of something on the inside of one of his thighs, like the clear, slimy trail of a slug. Jim Kirk, twelve years old, realises that he has had his first orgasm in his stepfathers lap.
There is no longer any difficulty in reaching orgasm when he masturbates. It is always accompanied by the memory of thighs and denim and a punishing hand, but it always gets him there and always results in the small goop of sticky, clear fluid until he gets a few months older and it turns milky and there's more of it.
Jim becomes extra careful not to misbehave, and when he does (because it is inevitable), he hopes Frank will not repeat it, but a small part of him hopes he will and becomes disappointed when he doesn't. Jim tries to squash that part and continues trying to behave, but whenever it becomes impossible, there is always a tiny part of him that is disappointed when Frank's eyes go from looking like he wants nothing more than to do it again, to looking away before he settles for another way of punishing Jim.
Jim Kirk, sixteen, is relieved when he comes inside Cindy's pussy for the first time. Cindy is blonde and petite and has small, dainty hands and soft, pale thighs that part for him, and moans sweetly in his ear as he fucks into her. After two weeks with Cindy, he knows something is missing. Every time she spreads her soft thighs and strokes gently through his hair, he remembers hard, muscular thighs trapping him and forceful blows turning his ass cheeks pink and impossibly warm.
At eighteen he meets Gary, who thinks Jim is a kinky motherfucker but doesn't mind spanking him, because he gets to do anything he wants to Jim in return. When they have been together for a year, Jim tells him about Frank and the spanking and his first orgasm. Gary dumps him the next day.
He stops dating for a while, but then makes up for it by going through partners like he does clothes. Some of them will spank him, but they never dare do it hard enough. Some won't. For some it's a dealbreaker. He tries being the one who spanks, too. Nothing does it. For a while, he almost begins fearing it's Frank he desires and not the spanking, but then he remembers that it did work with Gary for a year. Gary just didn't love him enough to try to understand.
Cadet James T. Kirk, 23, has given up. He doesn't try the spanking thing with anyone anymore. It's not worth the disgusted looks many of them will give him. Instead, he buries himself balls-deep in Gaila sometimes, or some other pretty cadet with a skirt, even though they're all too soft and pliant.
At 27, Jim has begun flirting with Spock. Flirting with Spock is scary. If something does happen between them, there is no way Jim can keep it a secret from him. And Spock is a Vulcan – he'll surely be disgusted. But Jim can't not flirt with him, because Spock makes him feel like no one has ever made him feel before, and he's pretty sure Spock is flirting back a lot of the time.
Jim is so distracted by the first kiss that he doesn't think about strong hands or firm thighs or small, pitiful stains of ejaculate on denim. Not until he's shirtless on Spock's bed, Spock grinding down against him and kissing him breathless. They both stop moving, and Jim knows Spock knows. He prepares for being thrown off the bed or walked away from or looked at with disgust.
Instead, Spock tells him not to be ashamed, and he undresses Jim reverently and sits on the edge of the bed, still clothed, waiting. Jim doesn't dare to believe, but then Spock takes his hand and pulls until Jim is draped over his lap, his semi-erect cock between Spock's thighs. A hard blow comes down on soft skin, leaving the pink mark of a hand, followed by more strokes erasing it as the pink spreads.
Jim is bounced up and down on Spock's lap, instinctively thrusting down hard every time a blow makes him wince. His cock is hard and leaking against Spock's pants, and he knows it's wrong – if not for the actions themselves, then certainly for the way this desire of his started – but it feels so good. Pleasure is coiling in his gut, and his ass cheeks are becoming numb. His dick is trapped, rubbing against black uniform pants and dribbling clear, viscous fluid on them, smearing it across the fabric.
Spock strikes harder, the sting penetrating the numbness, and Jim moans and jerks as he comes, rocking wildly in Spock's lap as he rides it out. He lowers himself to his knees shakily and looks at the white stripes of cum on Spock's uniform pants. He sticks out his tongue and licks off what he can, and then he pulls Spock's pants down and gives him a blowjob.
Spock pulls him up afterwards, to sit in his lap, and kisses him gently while he massages Jim's ass. Jim can feel Spock's thoughts, and he knows he's loved. He's still a perverted freak and a kinky motherfucker and all those things disgusted partners have ever called him, but it's okay, because he's loved.