Kirk stared at the screen. A warship had been found drifting near a dangerous asteroid belt, but Uhura had difficulties establishing a working connection with the strange vessel. The vessel had not yet been identified. Possible faults in its communication beacons seemed even more likely, when it was able to send only audio, and even that was mostly static.
‘Uhura, try all frequencies.’
‘Yes sir,’ came a soft reply behind Jim, where the communications officer was busily trying to establish connection. Soon the bridge went quiet, as the buzzing static ended.
‘Mr. Spock, what can you tell me about her?’ inquired Jim, still puzzled, hoping that they wouldn’t need to launch a team to check out the vessel.
‘I have no additional information at this time, Sir’. The voice was sweet and reassuring. Jim couldn’t resist a look at the Vulcan, who crouched at his station, deep in thought. He was bent forward, leaning softly on his desk, holding his head low and almost caressing the controls on his station with his elegant fingers. Jim’s imagination, already ignited by the strange vessel, had no trouble considering Spock’s posture as submissive, and his slightly splayed legs as an invitation. Jim swallowed audibly.
‘.. Captain? Captain Kirk?’ someone was calling him. Jim startled, and quickly changed his position on his chair to cover up the apparent bulge in his black pants. Several members of the crew were staring at him, including Spock. Jim realized that a junior crewman was standing expectantly beside him, handing him a report. Absent-mindedly Jim signed the report, got up and asked for the crew to take the helm. He needed a cold shower.
The cool water felt unpleasant, but it did calm the captain’s mind. The long journey they were on was wearing him down, he thought. He was being careless. Jim closed his eyes, and let the cold water caress his face and body, already feeling better. He dried up, got dressed and left his rooms, intending to grab a coffee and then return to the bridge for a few hours before getting a good night’s sleep.
As he entered the corridor he found Spock, leaning on a wall opposite to Jim’s door. Without saying a word the Vulcan pushed Jim back the spacious cabin, and let the door close after them with a quiet hiss.
‘Mr. Spock, what are you doing? Is there something new about the ship?’ Jim inquired in an annoyed tone of voice. But Spock pushed him further, until they stood next to the bed. Still Spock’s face was like a mask.
‘Captain, you are not in control of yourself. You behave erratically. Are you capable of functioning as the captain?’ he asked sternly. Jim’s annoyance changed to surprise, and soon to exasperation. He barked a reply to Spock, even though he vaguely realized his emotions were indeed bouncing around. Spock grabbed him by the shoulders, and continued his accusations.
‘Captain, you must get enough rest. Your condition is affecting your decision-making, which risks the entire ship and her crew. You-‘
‘I’m a human!’ shouted Jim, ’not some emotionless ice block of a Vulcan! And I would be perfectly capable of commandeering an entire fleet, if only you’d let me!’
Spock merely stared at Jim with his dark eyes, face stern but calm. Jim realized his own behavior right now was obvious evidence of his emotional imbalance.
‘Listen here, pointy-ears. We have an unknown ship in sight. They may need help. Your cold-bloodedness and heartlessness is not going to help them!’ Jim’s voice was menacing. ‘But you’ve made your point, officer. You are dismissed.’
‘Captain, please control your temp-‘
‘Hands off me, you half-breed!’ In a burst of anger Jim pushed his science officer away and stormed for the door. But Spock had reflexes like a snake. In one fluid motion he twirled around, grabbed the captain by the scruff of his neck, and pulled him back. Jim’s back was pressed against Spock, whose arms quickly embraced him, holding him still. Spock leaned his chin against Jim’s shoulder softly. Jim could feel his warm breath on his skin. He was still shaking.
‘Jim, you’re not in control. And I know you don’t even want to be’, Spock whispered. For reasons unknown to even himself, Jim held back a bitter reply. He was the captain! He was always in charge, yet sometimes…
‘But I am, Jim. I am in control. Relax, little captain.’ Spock’s hands were slowly starting to move, caressing Jim’s body. Jim’s chest was heaving, his heart racing, but no more only because of anger. Beyond his anger was longing, a need he had ignored for a long time. Spock’s touch was calling that need forth, like a gentle wind blowing to a pile of smoldering ashes.
‘I cloud your vision, Jim. I am like a beacon to you. Don’t deny it, my pet, you know you want me. I control you,’ the Vulcan kept whispering, and let his lips touch Jim’s bare neck softly, like the touch of a butterfly. Feebly Jim tried to get away, forcing the other man to strengthen his grip until it almost hurt. Jim closed his eyes. Spock was right. He controlled James T. Kirk.
Spock’s palms petted Jim’s body, tracing his muscles, holding him still in an embrace of domination. He caressed Jim’s chest and abdomen, while his agile tongue kept drawing secret symbols on the captain’s neck. With one quick motion Spock released his grip and pulled Jim’s shirt off, and then let his fingers continue their exploration. Gently first, he let his hands run over Jim’s nipples, then his sides. Jim grunted quietly when Spock scratched him gently and bit his neck at the same time. Jim grimaced. The searching fingers drew blood, and Jim felt a single hot drop of blood running down on his skin. A gentle finger wiped it away, then found the soft blond hair under Jim’s navel, and moved slowly lower. Spock’s arm around Jim’s chest was like a vice. There was no escape.
Something hard and long was pressing against Jim’s buttocks, pressed against Spock as he was. A stifled moan escaped Jim’s lips as he realized how much the other man wanted him, too. His own arousal was obvious, and it seemed to please Spock, who’s one hand still held Jim across the chest, and the other slid under his pants. Feeling Spock grab his bulging underpants Jim’s hands darted up and back in an attempt to touch Spock, to caress his jet black hair. But the Vulcan merely chuckled, grabbed hold of Jim’s wrists and pushed his arms up. Jim stood still as if he was in shackles. Spock’s Vulcan strength was too much for him to resist.
‘I know you want this,’ Spock whispered. ‘You need me, little captain. You dream of me, alone in your bed, don’t you?’
Jim couldn’t reply. His pants were dropped down to his knees, followed by his undergarment. He felt embarrassed, standing there helpless with his pants down. Despite his humiliation, his entire body was tense with lust and excitement. He did dream of Spock at nights... but he had not admitted it even to himself that he had enjoyed those dreams. None of the dreams came even close to the passion he was feeling now. It was as if he was filled to the brim with pure sexual need, and Spock kept on pouring more. The agile fingers of the Vulcan twirled playfully around Jim’s curly pubic hair, teasing the captain until he nearly begged Spock to go even lower. Spock’s left hand gripped Jim’s penis purposively, and started moving slowly, up and down the shaft. He bit Jim’s neck again, harder this time, but not hard enough to leave a mark. Not just yet.
Jim tried to say something. He wanted to beg Spock to release him before… before anything went any further. Or maybe he wanted to beg him not to stop? He was unsure. Hot waves welled up inside him as the other man kept stroking his manhood so skillfully, as if he read Jim’s mind. And maybe he did.
Suddenly Spock released Jim’s wrists and let the captain try to reach for him. Jim bent his arms down and reached back to touch Spock. His fumbling fingers caught Spock’s slacks, and tried to pull them down. Jim yearned to feel Spock’s cool skin against his own body, and he wanted to return the favor Spock was giving him. But again his lover evaded him. There was a low, pleased grunt when Spock noticed Jim pressing himself against his hand, moving his pelvis in unison with the Vulcan. The human was engulfed in lust.
To Jim’s surprise Spock knew exactly how to please his captain. His hand was now holding Jim only softly, and his musician’s fingertips played on the tender tip of his penis. Jim felt about to explode. He had been alone a long time now, and vaguely he realized that so had Spock. Spock murmured pleasurably in Jim’s ear as his fingers found Jim’s, and their fingers crossed as in a common prayer. Spock tightened his clasp on Jim, and his hand started moving up and down again, faster than before. Jim panted, his head bent backwards and rested on Spock’s shoulder. His lips were parted, and he moaned quietly.
‘Please… Spock, pl.. please don’t… don’t stop…’
His loins were welling up with fire. His every muscle was tense, and his breathing was heavy and fast. Spock kept on masturbating him, faster, stronger…
… until the world around Jim exploded in all colors of passion. He bent violently forwards and roared in extreme pleasure. Quickly Spock’s right hand moved to support him again, but his other hand never released Jim’s penis, even when the warm, thick sperm had spurted and was slowly dribbling down on his fingers. Jim’s feet failed him. He collapsed on the floor on his hands and knees, head drooping and his whole body covered in a mist of sweat. Spock kneeled down next to him, and finally released his captain. Jim was shaking and weak. He was holding himself steady only by force of will. The proud captain had been subdued.
Only after a while Jim felt able to breathe normally again. His panting and a few drops of sweat had left the floor moist. Carefully he got up from the floor, only to find himself alone again. Spock was nowhere to be seen.
‘Spock?’ he called quietly, but got no answer. Mind still numb from the orgasm he staggered back to the shower, and only with enormous concentration managed to get dressed. He glimpsed at the stains on the floor: sweat and semen. The room had the warm, sweet telltale smell of sex, so Jim turned the A/C to full power. Again he left his rooms, but this time was unaware of anyone or anything who he might have met in the corridors. His mind was only beginning to get around what had just happened and why he was suddenly feeling so relieved and relaxed.
‘Captain on the bridge,’ Mr. Sulu announced as Jim stepped from the elevator. He felt better, his head was clearer.
‘Captain, the unknown vessel is starting its engines. We believe it is taking off,’ Sulu continued, and Uhura added that no communications had been established since Jim had left.
‘We tried to contact you, Sir, but … but there was no response,’ Uhura added uncertainly.
‘I’m afraid I must have dozed off,’ Jim explained nonchalantly. And that seemed to be enough for the crew, for there were no more questions. The shift continued normally for the last few hours, until it was time for the captain to really get some sleep. Lazily Jim got up from his chair and stretched.
‘I’ll be in my quarters. Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov, keep the course steady.’ And almost as an afterthought Jim added: ‘Mr. Spock is in control.’
His face turned to the screens and equipment of his workstation, hidden from view, Spock grinned.