Title:                     ... this night to end... 1/1

 

 

 

Author:                 Lady Charena <LadyCharena@aol.com>

Series:                    TOS (A/R)

Rating:                   NC-17

Codes:                   K/S, pf, non-con, POV

Feedback: I'd like feedback very much. Please mail me at <LadyCharena@aol.com>

 

 

 

 

 

Summary: Spock is burning within the flames of pon farr. The one he desires is his Captain. The night before they reach Vulcan, Spock surrenders to his desire...

Note: This is a lot rougher than my usual stuff. But the idea crawled someday out from a dark, shadowy corner straight into my mind. And stayed there stubborn - itching, scratching and poking me - until I gave in and wrote it down.

 

Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek. I borrowed a small part from it, to play with the Boys. The story is mine - no moneymaking or offence of copyrights intended.

If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem with m/m-relations- and -sex - sorry, you've picked the wrong story for your entertainment.

 

This story contains rape.

 

Please be patient with any errors, English is not my native language. My thanks to my beta T'Len and my deepest gratitude to T'Boy, for making this readable.

 

...this night to end...1/1

***************************

by Lady Charena

2000

 

 

<How I wish this night to end...>

 

I wake in darkness.

In the night's silence, I can clearly hear the accelerated pounding of my heart - the blood, roaring in my ears. My fingers are stiff claws, buried in the damp sheet, as if to restrain me physically. I feel my penis straining against the confinement of my pants. The throbbing in my abdomen is now nearly unbearable. Like the pain in my mind, seeking for another to cool the flames, to quench the steadily rising hunger. I cannot determine which the greater agony is.

 

But I can control. I can. I can! I... have to. There are only ten hours left until we will reach Vulcan, where my appointed mate awaits me. *She*... the woman, I do not desire. A woman I will be bonded to, till eternity itself ends.

 

NO! The mere thought chills me to my bones. But there is no other way than to join with her. The flames in my body, in my mind, will leave me no alternatives. The one I would have freely chosen is not meant to be mine. Jim... my Captain, my friend - my t'hy'la, even if he will never know this. He is the one; I would have gladly surrendered my life, soul, mind and body - if he only had asked.

 

But we are *mere* friends. Jim has never shown interest in any male - and even over this short time, we know each other - I have seen a lot of admiring and sometimes plain desiring eyes settled onto him. He will never know what amount of control I had to summon to look calm, to carry on with the situation at hand.

On more then one occasion, all I wanted to do was to break their necks for insulting him with their greedy glances. But every time I restrained myself very strictly, knowing - if he would have truly searched, he would have found the same look in my eyes...

 

Slowly loosening my grip on the sheet, I stretch my cramped fingers. I do not know what time it is; my time-sense is failing me - like my other senses, too.

For example - I dare not to breath too deeply while I dwell on the bridge or in the mess. The air seems to be penetrated with Jim's scent. Even when he is not in the same room. I can taste him then - on my dry lips, my tongue. It arouses me. So it is no surprise, that food has lost every appeal to me...

* * *

The sliding sound of his door now, as he enters his quarters, next to mine. I can hear soft steps, the rustle of clothes shed, now probably covering the floor in an untidy heap.

 

I have to close my eyes. But this does not help. I can feel him, the golden glow, surrounding him like a cape, fills my quarters - or maybe only my unreliable mind.

 

The activated shower in our shared bathroom sounds like distant thunder in my ears, even drowning the unsteady clatter of my heartbeat. Now I can see him with my mind's eye - standing there under the hot spray, face lifted into the stream.

Foam is gliding down his body to pool around his feet...

 

More fire is settling in my groin and I tear my pants open, to relieve at least some of the strain.

 

I picture him in my mind... his hands, travelling down the broad chest, maybe touching casually the faintly darker nipples, as he spreads the soap over silken skin.

 

Now I can see the nubs growing erect - he is that responsive... even to his own touches.

 

A gasp escapes me, as I touch myself, mirroring his motions. Even through the fabric of my shirt, I can feel the aching hardness of the small nubs, half-hidden in the hair on my chest.

 

Now his hands travel deeper - as do mine - over his belly, dipping playfully into the shallow navel, to prolong the anticipation. Desire boils in the pit of my stomach, my trembling body as tense as a bowstring, as I caress my burning skin.

 

I imagine the darker curls in his groin, now clinging wetly to his skin, surrounding the proud cock  - like a frame around a work of art. His fingertips travel down its length, brushing lightly over the sensitive head.

 

I *can* actually hear his muffled moan, *see* him tossing back his head, as he continues to pleasure himself. My face pressed into the hardness of my pillow, I groan helpless. I try to stop this... this madness, now before it is too late - but I cannot...

 

And so I picture him again, now closing his fingers around his erection... like I do.

Starting to milk it slowly - oh-so-slowly... till he trembles with the need to orgasm. Like I do... The other hand flickering again over hard nubs, then down over the belly to sneak between spread thighs, fondling heavy balls.

Waves of heat are washing over me, as I teeter on the brink of orgasm. I *watch* his face, distorted with pleasure. It is bliss. It is enough to push me over the edge.

* * *

Orgasm has left me spent, but not at all sated.

Slowly is my heartbeat tapering off, my breathing calms. But the haze in my mind has not altered.

 

Loathed I try to wipe off from my hands the remains of my shame. I can smell it, feel it - every single drop of semen on my chilled skin. I wipe myself with the sheet, but the stain stays.

Water... the shower.

I have to go there. Now.

 

With this thought, I push myself off the bed, ignoring my shaking knees, the dishevelled state of my clothes.

* * *

The door to the bathroom slides open - and I see Jim, standing in the door of the shower stall, only clad in a towel. For a moment our eyes meet.

 

"Spock, you're a mess. Easy, let me help you." Saying this, he comes to me, grabbing my upper arms, as I sway.

 

"I am sorry for disturbing you at this hour, Jim." Even the hoarse whisper of my voice seems too loud in the small room. "I need to use the shower."

 

My Captain smiles, his usual encouraging smile, his eyes gentle. "Never mind." He looks at me profoundly. "You're really all right, Spock?"

 

I feel like drowning in his eyes. As I slowly nod, he turns away to go. To leave me. I cannot let him do this to me. So I grab his arm.

 

"I am all right. Now I am truly all right. You are here with me." He turns, obviously puzzled over my words. "Jim." I caress his name with my voice, his cheek with my fingertips.

For a moment he seems stunned by my sudden approach, but he recovers fast. "Spock..." Reaching for my hand, but I shove his aside.

 

"T'hy'la." I grab his second arm, too. "Do not turn away from me now."

His smile is gentle - but the look in his eyes is wary - as he tries to soothe me. "Spock, of course I'm here for you. I'll stay - but, please Spock, release me. This hurts..."

 

I silence him with a kiss.

* * *

As in my forbidden dreams... I am kissing Jim. But unlike those dreams he is struggling against my touch. So I release him, disappointed, unsatisfied.

 

"Spock, I don't understand..."

 

But he is my t'hy'la - my soulmate, he has to understand. Maybe is he teasing me? He loves to tease me...

So I smile. "Surely you do, Jim. You are my mate."

 

He frowns at me. "Spock, look I... we're friends, I know. But not more. I cannot..."

He tries to smile, to calm me - maybe himself. But there is an unsteady flicker in his eyes, as he lays hands onto my shoulders. His cool touch burns through the fabric into my skin. "Spock, I'm sorry."

He backs off from me. "I think, it's better if I go now."

 

He turns to go, but again I reach for his arm. "No," I insist. "Jim, you do not understand. You are my t'hy'la. I burn for you. I need you."

I touch his face, caressing the strong jaw, like I dreamed to do for so long.

 

"Spock, stop this! Release me."

 

I have gone too far - feeling his body next to mine makes me nauseous - to listen to his words.

He starts to struggle in earnest, but is even now anxious not to hurt *me*.

The fight arouses me even more and the fever burns the last conscious thought away, as his knee impacts with my groin.

* * *

I have to nerve-pinch him. He is fighting me. Slowly I go to my knees beside him. His exotic beauty is so even more apparent, as I reach to touch him. I do not know anymore, how I restrained myself from doing so in the past. He is flinching, even in this unconscious state, as I loosen the towel around his waist. Then I shed my own clothes.

 

Where my skin is rough and pale in comparison, is his flesh golden and soft, cool - like silk under my admiring hands. For a while I revel in the so long denied feelings, my desires at last coming true. But soon it is not enough anymore.

I bind his hands with strips of the towel to his back.

 

His eyelids flutter. He opens his mouth...

 

But I settle my fingertips over the pressure points in his face, falling into the meld. He is mine...

 

Anger, a feeling of helplessness and fear... tainting everything. His memories lay bare for me to see, his feelings... every thought. I can see that something had begun to change between us... a change in our relationship.

But I have no time, to dwell on this. Ah, he is really a warrior, fighting me even now, even here. A mate to be proud of. Even if he stands no chance against me...

I touch the link between us, established through melds in the line of duty. So cool... so sweet... I yearn to bond him to me. Now. Forever.

But this will have to wait till we arrive at Vulcan. For now there is another yearning to sate.

 

I block certain parts of his nerve-system - so he is unable to yell or to struggle. But I maintain the meld as I concentrate once more on my body's demands.

Slowly I slide my hands down his back, parting his buttocks. I bend my head to taste his flesh.

And the flames close around me.

 

I am slick with pre-cum, I spread on him, pushing one finger inside him. Never imagined... so tight, so warm, I thrust my finger deep into him, to open him for my pleasure.

 

...cannot stand this any longer... So I remove my finger, replacing it with my penis. I cry out as I enter him. It is such a relief it hurts.

Too soon orgasm claims me again and I lose myself into him.

 

 

* * *

I come to my senses, lying on the cold tiles. The flames inside me are still there, but sated for the moment. I shake my head to get rid of the nausea and I succeed. For the first time in weeks I can think clearly...

Until I hear the sobs in my mind.

 

Slowly I turn my head. Jim is lying next to me.

What happened? There are deep blue marks on his face, at temple and cheek. As I reach out to touch them, my fingertips fit perfectly in.

My eyes travel his naked body, trembling and cramped. His back - covered with bite-marks and bruises. His thighs - with semen...

 

Then I know. I did... "No..." not him...

Pushing myself up, I reach again for him. As I lost consciousness, the meld broke, but his body is still paralysed.

"Jim, no... not you..." I know he is awake.

 

Like a man in trance, I reach for the meld-points, sending his mind to sleep. Introducing a healing trance, like I did in the past to hasten his recovery...

 

His mind is open to me, as I enter... erasing the memories. But even now, I can feel my flesh harden - at the memory of being inside him, tasting the sweetness of his lips, his skin... his thoughts...

* * *

For the time being, the madness is gone. While he sleeps, heals, I clean his body, clean myself. I take him to his bed.

 

My tears glisten like raindrops on his face. How I wish this night to end...

* * *

 

Vulcan. Planet of my ancestors.

 

 

 

His face is too pale, his forehead covered with sweat. It is not only the heat and the higher gravity that eats at him. Even if his mind does not, his body remembers the violence I bestowed on him last night.

 

He smiles at me and I have to avert my eyes. Automatically I reach for the shallow link between T'Pring and myself.

 

 

Nothing.

 

 

It's gone. Instead I find a single, silver thread, reaching out for Jim's mind. This meld, last night...

 

I shy away from the memory, although knowing I'll never be free of it. She will know, that I reject her, maybe even, that there is another. But after all, this might not be the worst solution.

It is within her rights to choose challenge then. I do not know, who will be my adversary, but it does not matter. Even if I should be able to kill him, there will be no mate for me. And the fire will claim me. If I should not be able to defend myself - I will gladly die on the red sands of my ancestors. I can only hope, that death will bring me peace.

 

I can hear now the bells of the arriving wedding party...

 

-end-