![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katydidmischief posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
cjs_owndisclaimer. Not mine. Never have been and I'll only ever be playing in the sandbox.
title. Non Sum Qualis Eram
rating. Adult for content, language
pairing. Spock/McCoy/Kirk
summary. Of course, sequestering the boy to his quarters under the guise of keeping him safe was an outright perversion of the regulation, something no one had seen fit to discuss.
warnings. Alternate Universe of the Alternate Universe. (This fandom rules.) Also, sexual slavery.
notes. Written for this prompt atst_xi_kink.
The world was off the beaten path, perched tantalizingly on the edge of Romulan space like an ornament on a holiday tree. The Federation had wanted it badly as an outpost, a station they could use to hold the imaginary line that denoted what they'd already claimed as their own should the other power attempt to claim what was not for the taking. So of course the Federation sent Enterprise, their most valuable and powerful of vessels, to negotiate a treaty - Spock and his crew, jokingly referred to as the Island of Misfit Toys by elder members of the fleet, had rarely failed their tasks though it garnered them little respect.
That, however, mattered about as much as paper money those days; Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and McCoy knew their worth and so did Command. Case and point, when the Br'tarrans offered a pleasure slave to them as a gift to show their happiness with the deal, Starfleet had told Spock that he could certainly take the man aboard - but he was to be treated as nothing more than a civilian passenger.
Actually, (according to the missive Archer had sent) they'd simply wanted plausible deniability and Spock had happily given it to them. Hell, he'd already done it once, never having reported that he and McCoy had elected to engage in a sexual relationship, so not telling them that he had immediately taken the boy to bed and continued to bed him was far easier than anticipated.
“Fuck, kid,” McCoy had moaned the sixth night the pleasure slave had stretched out on his stomach in the bed, legs spread wide to show his glistening, already-stretched hole. “You're a goddamn sin, you know that?”
The kid had only shrugged and pushed his hands down to spread his ass wider, an invitation.
But time and thoughts of Joanna had eaten away at his resolve and as beautiful as he'd found the man warming their bed, Leonard felt he was duty bound to at least gauge the status of the man's mental health. After all, it wouldn't have been proper to fuck a brainwashed man (which he was and he angrily shoved down that thought).
“What's your name?” He asked, authority filling his tone.
Looking at him with confusion, the kid tilted his head and furrowed his brow before turning his face back to the pillows, pushing his ass high into the air. He was not prepared for the hand that threaded into his hair, nor to be forced onto his back to face the upset doctor.
“I asked you what your name is, kid.”
He rubbed unconsciously at his throat and opened his mouth to speak, only to snap his jaw shut quickly enough to click. He shook his head in refusal, making McCoy growl in annoyance.
Leonard was preparing to press for an answer when the hiss of the door reached his ears and he glanced over his shoulder at Spock, who looked exhausted and drawn. Three years after Nero, after the bastard had destroyed Earth, after losing Vulcan and Amanda, and watching the time-traveling Romulan escape to the safety of his empire with barely a scratch, Spock was a horrifically powerful man. The Federation was strong, but Starfleet had been left in tatters, though thankfully, there had been a fair number of the Command staff that were able to survive the destruction on other worlds; the pressure of his station weighed heavily on Spock's shoulders as Captain of the flagship and it showed in his eyes.
Particularly as he gazed hungrily at the boy.
“Wait,” McCoy ordered, pulling the Captain's attention to himself. “I need to know, Spock, because if it's him, then we need to alert command to other possible survivors of the Kelvin being on that world.”
Spock twitched, his shoulders tight, but nodding in agreement – any remaining humans in the universe were to be protected, just as Vulcans were. Of course, sequestering the boy to his quarters under the guise of keeping him safe was an outright perversion of the regulation, something no one had seen fit to discuss.
“What. Is. Your. Name?” Leonard pressed, bent over the slave's body while his hand fisted his hand completely into long hair.
The blond boy whimpered at the pain and when he finally spoke it was with a low, gruff, seldom-used voice.
“My name is James Tiberius Kirk.”
title. Non Sum Qualis Eram
rating. Adult for content, language
pairing. Spock/McCoy/Kirk
summary. Of course, sequestering the boy to his quarters under the guise of keeping him safe was an outright perversion of the regulation, something no one had seen fit to discuss.
warnings. Alternate Universe of the Alternate Universe. (This fandom rules.) Also, sexual slavery.
notes. Written for this prompt at
st_xi_kink.The world was off the beaten path, perched tantalizingly on the edge of Romulan space like an ornament on a holiday tree. The Federation had wanted it badly as an outpost, a station they could use to hold the imaginary line that denoted what they'd already claimed as their own should the other power attempt to claim what was not for the taking. So of course the Federation sent Enterprise, their most valuable and powerful of vessels, to negotiate a treaty - Spock and his crew, jokingly referred to as the Island of Misfit Toys by elder members of the fleet, had rarely failed their tasks though it garnered them little respect.
That, however, mattered about as much as paper money those days; Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, and McCoy knew their worth and so did Command. Case and point, when the Br'tarrans offered a pleasure slave to them as a gift to show their happiness with the deal, Starfleet had told Spock that he could certainly take the man aboard - but he was to be treated as nothing more than a civilian passenger.
Actually, (according to the missive Archer had sent) they'd simply wanted plausible deniability and Spock had happily given it to them. Hell, he'd already done it once, never having reported that he and McCoy had elected to engage in a sexual relationship, so not telling them that he had immediately taken the boy to bed and continued to bed him was far easier than anticipated.
“Fuck, kid,” McCoy had moaned the sixth night the pleasure slave had stretched out on his stomach in the bed, legs spread wide to show his glistening, already-stretched hole. “You're a goddamn sin, you know that?”
The kid had only shrugged and pushed his hands down to spread his ass wider, an invitation.
But time and thoughts of Joanna had eaten away at his resolve and as beautiful as he'd found the man warming their bed, Leonard felt he was duty bound to at least gauge the status of the man's mental health. After all, it wouldn't have been proper to fuck a brainwashed man (which he was and he angrily shoved down that thought).
“What's your name?” He asked, authority filling his tone.
Looking at him with confusion, the kid tilted his head and furrowed his brow before turning his face back to the pillows, pushing his ass high into the air. He was not prepared for the hand that threaded into his hair, nor to be forced onto his back to face the upset doctor.
“I asked you what your name is, kid.”
He rubbed unconsciously at his throat and opened his mouth to speak, only to snap his jaw shut quickly enough to click. He shook his head in refusal, making McCoy growl in annoyance.
Leonard was preparing to press for an answer when the hiss of the door reached his ears and he glanced over his shoulder at Spock, who looked exhausted and drawn. Three years after Nero, after the bastard had destroyed Earth, after losing Vulcan and Amanda, and watching the time-traveling Romulan escape to the safety of his empire with barely a scratch, Spock was a horrifically powerful man. The Federation was strong, but Starfleet had been left in tatters, though thankfully, there had been a fair number of the Command staff that were able to survive the destruction on other worlds; the pressure of his station weighed heavily on Spock's shoulders as Captain of the flagship and it showed in his eyes.
Particularly as he gazed hungrily at the boy.
“Wait,” McCoy ordered, pulling the Captain's attention to himself. “I need to know, Spock, because if it's him, then we need to alert command to other possible survivors of the Kelvin being on that world.”
Spock twitched, his shoulders tight, but nodding in agreement – any remaining humans in the universe were to be protected, just as Vulcans were. Of course, sequestering the boy to his quarters under the guise of keeping him safe was an outright perversion of the regulation, something no one had seen fit to discuss.
“What. Is. Your. Name?” Leonard pressed, bent over the slave's body while his hand fisted his hand completely into long hair.
The blond boy whimpered at the pain and when he finally spoke it was with a low, gruff, seldom-used voice.
“My name is James Tiberius Kirk.”
