Equilateral

The shimmering market was crowded, with many vendors selling all sorts of goods—food, clothing and even hardware. As he walked several paces behind T’Pol and the planet’s ambassador, Jon had time to notice how everything seemed to sparkle or shine in chromes, and bronzes and lucites.

This was a matriarchal planet, so T’Pol had taken the lead. Ambassador Kaikoura was an attractive humanoid woman, about Jon’s age in appearance, with straight black hair, almond-shaped eyes and a pronounced ridge that went from the top of her forehead down to her nose. She wore a severe looking blue dress with a shining chrome belt, and she had not spoken a word to Jon or Trip since they had arrived.

These Ikaarans had highly advanced isomagnetic collectors, something that Enterprise desperately needed. But the Ikaarans did not have advanced ideas about gender equality. What few men Jon had seen appeared to be enslaved by the women, servile and groveling. It was no wonder Hoshi suggested T'Pol take the diplomatic lead after having some initial conversations with the Ikaarans.

T'Pol had been doing quite well, even playing along with the idea that he and Trip were her servants. She actually seemed to be enjoying it—a little too much, as far as Jon was concerned.

Jon cast a glance over at Trip, who was smirking. Didn’t either one of them find this inequity—to the point of slavery—to be offensive? T’Pol just seemed her usual Vulcan inquisitive self. Objectifying the damn culture the way men were being objectified. She was asking if the males ever objected to their status.

Kaikoura seemed amused. "Of course not," she replied, "Our slaves choose this life. They are happy to serve."

T’Pol raised an eyebrow at that, and she looked back and Trip and Jon before turning her attention to the Ambassador, who continued.

"Each young man who has the strength to choose this life is absolutely precious to us. It is our duty to see he is well cared for and knows his value, provided he serves well. We must keep them disciplined, out of respect for their choice."

“So,” replied T’Pol, “The men are not forced into servitude?”

Kaikoura made a gesture that clearly meant “of course not.” “No,” she said, “Our children are not born into slavery, although both boys and girls observe the relationship between adult males and females. When boys begin adolescence, they are put into low level servitude. However, at the age of seventeen, they must leave our world and experience the so-called freedom and equality of nearby worlds. Not all Ikaaran planets arrange themselves as we do. After a year, a man can choose to stay away or come home to his rightful life of servitude. More than half return to us...and they are allowed to choose which mistresses they will serve. So...you see...our slaves are most powerful.”

Jon snorted softly, unable to keep a lid on his skepticism.

Trip leaned close to Jon, keeping his voice low. "You wanna tell me again how we keep ending up in all these places with all these crazy ideas about men and women?"

Jon smirked. "Just lucky, I guess."

Both men looked up to see that T'Pol and their guide had moved on to another kiosk. T'Pol looked on with great interest as the merchant demonstrated the durability of what appeared to be a restraint of sorts—a long, silken strap that appeared to be adjustable in length. The purple strap had black cuffs on one end and metal rings on the other.

Trip winced. "Either that, or we're the unluckiest sons of bitches ever born."

Ambassador Kaikoura looked back at them with a vaguely disdainful look. She began showing T’Pol the silky-looking restraints...and other devices that Jon didn’t even want to know the purpose of...and she spoke louder than she had before, as though to ensure Jon and Trip would hear her. “Allow me to have these delivered to your villa,” said the Ambassador. “A gift from my people. I’m sure your males will appreciate what they can accomplish. Men...as you know...desire to please, but must be taught how to do so with a firm hand.”

"Indeed," T'Pol deadpanned, turning to incline an eyebrow at Jon and Trip.  A vague flush of jade tinged her cheeks, though whether from the nature of the ambassador's gift or their inability to behave like local men, Jon was unsure.

As Kaikoura moved further down the kiosk to haggle with the merchant, Trip took advantage of the lapse in her attention to speak softly into T'Pol's ear. "I am so gonna spank you for this later," he promised. With a nod toward Jon, he added, "And he's gonna hold you down when I do it."

T'Pol's only answer was an enigmatic eyebrow.

Jon bit his lip, swallowing his desire to tell those two where they could stick their kinky little games. It was one thing if they wanted to play around behind closed doors, but this was people’s real lives. It wasn’t right for people to be enslaved, even if they chose it. Not for their whole lives.

Jon felt tension build in his shoulders and back, and his hand instinctively went up to cover his mouth in a gesture to help prevent him from speaking. He rubbed his chin pensively and thought, I can’t wait to get the hell off this sicko planet.

The ambassador returned to T’Pol’s side, eyeing the way in which she was interacting with both Trip and Jon with something akin to curiosity and amusement. “I’ll leave you and your men to enjoy the market on your own,” she said, “but if you need anything, just use the comm system I showed you.”

T’Pol nodded. “Thank you, Ambassador,” she replied.

“We are looking forward to your presence at the banquet tonight.”

With that, Kaikoura left. When she was out of view, Trip grinned and pulled T’Pol into an embrace in front of all the curious onlookers. His hands crept down her back to squeeze her rear-end. “I’m looking forward to this party, too,” he said, “It sounds like it’s going to be interesting.”

Jon sighed. “Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination,” he muttered to himself as he followed his lovers through the market toward their lodging.

* * *

The Ikaarans had housed them in a bright white villa that included a private garden, swimming pool, kitchen and one large bedroom.

As the three of them walked up the gleaming bright stairs towards their room, T’Pol was reminded of the not-so-very-long-ago night on the Gilesian planet, when the three of them had first truly found each other. However, on this night, she was comforting her mates with a gentle hand on each of their arms. Back then, she had thought the gentle touching and kissing of the Gileseans had been uncomfortable. But the Ikkaarans made the Gileseans seem quaint and chaste.

"Either the Ikaaran men are double jointed or they practice some kind of yoga," Trip remarked, whistling.

Jonathan grimaced. "I'm not sure how either of you finished your dinner."

"What happened to objectifying other cultures?" replied Trip in a teasing voice. He had found the whole situation amusing that T'Pol had feared he would damage their diplomatic relations with the Ikaarans.

"My problem is the way they were objectifying us," snapped Jonathan, waving a finger between Trip and himself.

They reached the door to their room, and T'Pol punched in the code. The room was large, and included a big, lucite bed piled high with sumptuous, soft bedding. Matching lucite chairs sat opposite of the bed, and there were even small roll out cots hidden behind the wall, presumably so that T’Pol would not be required to share her bed with her slaves.

Truthfully, she had found herself suppressing irritation at the Ikaaran women's desire to for her to share her mates with them. She had explained to them that such a thing was not done in her culture, but they had persisted in offering her access to several of their most attractive males in exchange for access to hers.

She firmly declined.

"Thanks for getting us out of that. . .diplomatically," laughed Trip as the door shut behind them.

Jonathan rolled his eyes, and T'Pol observed tension in his neck and shoulders. He did not like ceding control to her.

Trip, on the other hand, wore an expression of amusement and fascination."You did seem to enjoy yourself tonight, darlin',” he said, running his hand up her arm.

She glanced over at Jonathan. "It is part of our mission not to judge other cultures. Though their ways are different, their society thrives, from what I have observed. Perhaps you would do well to try to learn something from them."

She wondered for a moment if Trip would find the inequity disturbing, given his history. But the Ikaarans were different in that the men chose to serve, rather than be forced.

"It did seem like their men were content in their role," said Trip, "although I can't say I'd like to live that way permanently."

Trip locked eyes with her. There was a playful invitation in the way the way he had spoken the word permanently.

He stood there, waiting. Waiting for her, she realized. He wanted to continue to playact his subservient role, except in a more intimate way.

T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back, adding what length she could to her spine.  She inhaled a deep breath and sent dominant energy to Trip with her eyes, as much as through the bond.

Trip smiled just slightly before dropping to his knees before her. "How may I serve you?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

She turned toward Jonathan, whose gaze flicked from her to Trip, she supposed somewhere between incredulous and amused.  

"You've got to be kidding me," he said.

T'Pol regarded him expectantly. Trip kept his place and waited patiently

Jonathan laughed uncomfortably, putting his hands up. "Look, if you two want to role-play for a bit, that's fine, I'll get out of your way—“

"Kneel," T'Pol said in what she hoped was an authoritative tone.

Jonathan was affecting indifference to the game, pretending like it did not appeal to him. But thanks not only to the bond, but to the tell tale shaking in his voice, she knew that Jonathan feared the game not because he did not wish to give her control, but because he desperately wanted to.

"On your knees, eyes down," she ordered.

To her surprise, Jonathan obeyed.

"I wish you to submit to me. Do you?" she said, mimicking the words she had heard earlier. T'Pol brushed his cheek with her hand. "Do you?"

Jonathan closed his eyes."Yes," he said, not without difficulty.

T'Pol looked over at Trip, who wore a hint of a smile.

"Jonathan's reluctance has displeased me," she said, "I wish you to punish him."

"Yes, ma'am" he said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

T'Pol's eyes narrowed in warning. His impertinence would likewise have to be dealt with, or so the rules of this game seemed to dictate. With a nod toward Jonathan, she said, "Remove his clothing. Now."

Trip's expression turned serious and he averted his gaze as he stood up and approached Jonathan.

"Tell him to put his hands on the wall," she said, knowing that it was important that she give the orders to Trip.

She sensed that through this ritual, Jonathan had connected with the game. He kept his eyes down, as the slaves of this world had done.

"Against the wall," said Trip, helping Jonathan towards the wall and placing his hands and feet wide apart.

Jonathan glanced behind him.

“You do not have permission to look at him,” she said. “Trip, punish him for that.”

With only a hint of hesitation, Trip smacked Jonathan on his rear end. However, she noticed that he did not hit as hard as he had when he had spanked her this way.

She moved closer to her lovers, and she smacked Trip with the intensity she expected. “You will punish him properly. And he will be grateful,” she said.

Trip looked down at Jonathan, slapping him as instructed. "Will you be grateful?" he whispered.

Jonathan hesitated.

"Again," T'Pol hissed.

Trip smacked Jonathan on the backside with an intensity that equaled the last.

"Again," she repeated.

Trip complied.

"Harder," she whispered.

Jonathan gasped, though from the pain or the loud crack of Trip's hand against his flesh, she was uncertain.

She leaned in, her voice a barely audible whisper in Jonathan's ear. "Express your gratitude...and you will be rewarded.”

Jonathan inhaled shakily. "Thank you," he murmured.

T'Pol raised her eyebrow and glanced at Trip. "Say his name," she ordered.

There was a long silence.

"Thank you, Trip," Jonathan said finally.

T'Pol felt a jolt of exhilaration, not only from the power, but from the pleasure she sensed she was giving both her mates.

"Good," said Trip, who gently caressed the red marks on Jonathan's skin.

T'Pol inhaled, leaning over and letting her lips come very close to Trip's but not kissing him.

"Jonathan will be rewarded by giving you pleasure in whatever way you see fit," she whispered. "Ask him if he will enjoy that.”

Trip obeyed. “Jon, will you enjoy your reward?” he asked, still caressing the other man’s backside.

Jonathan drew a ragged breath. "Very much so, Trip."

"Then get down on your knees and unzip me," replied Trip.

T'Pol felt her heart beat faster and a slow ache begin between her things. She wanted to join in Trip's pleasure as she had done so many times before, but she knew that was not right at this moment. Instead, she stepped back from her mates and seated herself in a chair.

Meanwhile, Jonathan got on his knees before Trip and undid the younger man's trousers.

Trip's erection sprang forth, as if to match the one that the naked Jonathan had. T'Pol nodded at Trip.

"Go ahead, suck on it," said Trip gently, running a tender hand through Jonathan's hair.

T'Pol watched as Jonathan grasped Trip's erection at its base, first swirling his tongue around the tip. Jonathan continued to tease for a moment before taking the length into his mouth, eliciting a low moan from Trip as his eyelids fluttered shut.

T'Pol watched intently, instinctively running her hands over her body as she watched for long and lingering moments. But these caresses were not enough. Although she had wanted to let them alone, she could not. She wanted to hold and kiss Trip as Jonathan made him climax. She stood and approached Trip, whose head was thrown back and eyes still shut. Careful not to disturb Jonathan at his work, she moved into Trip's embrace and kissed him.

"You may climax whenever you wish," she whispered into Trip's mouth

Her words seemed to trigger Trip's release, and he shuddered in her arms.

Jonathan released Trip, who was clearly dizzy with euphoria.

“Thank Trip for allowing you to pleasure him,” she ordered Jonathan.

She saw Jonathan’s face flush, and he hesitated. However, he eventually spoke.“Thank you,” he said.

Trip mumbled a soft your welcome, and T’Pol supported his weight as she led him to the nearby chair. She gently seated him in it and kissed him on the lips. “Rest here,” she ordered.

She returned to Jonathan, helping him to his feet. “You did well,” she whispered, “and you will again be rewarded.”

With that, she led him to the bed and had him lie on his back.

"Wait here," she said without further explanation, moving across the room toward a set of recessed drawers.  Pulling one open, she felt a squeeze of trepidation as her fingers gripped the contents—devices she'd been assured would give Jonathan maximum relief, but now she had her doubts.

Trip appeared at her side.  "You are supposed to be resting," she said with an authority she wasn't convinced she felt.

"You up for this?" Trip asked, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

When she didn't answer, he leaned down, kissing her ear as he whispered, "He needs you to do this."

T'Pol turned to face him, straightening. "Sit down, or prepare to suffer the consequences."

Trip smiled at that, hazarding a quick caress against her cheek and a wink. "Yes, ma'am" he said, playfully obedient.

T'Pol took a deep, slow breath and took some restraints and clamps from the drawer. Jonathan's state of arousal was at its peak, and she knew it was time to assist him. She approached the bed.

She gently bound Jonathan's wrists and feet to each bedpost. His eyes were closed and breath calm. She knew it was an effort for him, and she rewarded him by grabbing his erection and gently massaging it. He moaned and moved against his restraints.

"It is inadvisable to resist," she informed him coolly, sensing the swell of his panic through their bond.

Still he tested the wrist restraints, tugging against the bed post.

"Disobedience will be punished," she reminded him, tightening her grip on his erection as though to punctuate this, "while compliance will be rewarded."

Jonathan's heart was beating and he continued his struggles for a moment, and she let go of his arousal in favor of gentle caresses across his body. He did eventually relax, and she whispered encouragement. She then took a velvety blindfold and placed it over his eyes before carefully fastening each nipple clamp in place.

T'Pol stepped back and began to strip off her own garments, which she did with cool efficiency. She then climbed up on the bed and on top of Jonathan. She kissed him on mouth before whispering, "Do you give yourself completely to me?"

Jonathan hesitated.  T'Pol knew that the rules of the game dictated that she follow through with her threat of punishment, but a part of her was torn; Jonathan was a man accustomed to control over everything within his reach.  Submission would not come easy to the captain of a starship.

Resonating through the bond, she was aware of Trip, fortifying her resolve.

Slowly, gently, she began to tighten Jonathan's nipple clamps.

"Do you give yourself completely to me?" she repeated.

Jonathan slowly relaxed again. "Yes," he said clearly.

"Good," she replied, and she shifted her body so she could impale herself on him.

She did so with slow, deliberation, enjoying the feeling of him entering her centimeter by centimeter. Finally, she relaxed her weight and fully engulfed him. She caressed his face and chest with her hands and whispered more praise.

As she began to move, exhilaration overtook her. Her own arousal became as significant as his—perhaps more so—and she craved her own release. His trust in her both excited her and made her feel vulnerable. The heady feeling caused by such conflicting emotions bubbled up within her; that Jonathan was allowing himself to exist solely for her pleasure, even just for this moment, fueled her impending orgasm with a thrill of ecstasy tangled with fear. She knew his climax would come soon, and so she positioned her movements to encourage her own release.

Jonathan writhed beneath her, but he wasn't struggling; he was simply caught up in his pleasure. This finally sent her over the edge and she shivered and cried out. Jonathan found his pleasure shortly afterward, and she had the presence of mind to remove his clamps as he did, inspiring such a moan that she feared she had harmed him. But gradually, she realized, as intended, the release of the clamps had cause his climax to be more intense.

T'Pol had also experienced an intense orgasm, and she drowsily lay her head on his chest for several long moments as she recovered.

Eventually, T'Pol gently rolled off Jonathan and stood beside the bed. She saw that Trip was looking and her and she beckoned him with a gesture, holding her two fingers toward him. Trip came, grabbing a towel from the dresser as he did so. Together, they cleaned off Jonathan's body with slow, sensuous motions.

"Remove his blindfold," said T'Pol, and Trip complied.

Jonathan blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. He sighed, looking at both of them before closing them again.

Still unable to move, he allowed himself to be soothed by both pairs of hands caressing him.  T'Pol planted soft kisses along his face. "Are you well?"

Jonathan gave a soft laugh, a tired smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, yeah. I'm well."

T'Pol exchanged a look with Trip, who was likewise smiling at her.  With a gesture she indicated he should rise and join her on her side of the bed. She kissed Trip gently, and then whispered in his mouth. “You are wearing too many clothes. Remove them.”

Trip smiled and began stripping off his garments. As she watched, it occurred to her that she would never tire of seeing him without clothes. He, like Jonathan, was a beautiful sight. She knew that he was aware of the power he had over her, the power to inspire desire that she was unwilling to suppress.

It meant something that he was willing to cede control to her.

Anticipating her desires, Trip held his hands out before him, wrists together.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, applying gentle pressure to them until he returned to the chair.

Trip obediently waited while T'Pol retrieved another restraint from the drawer.

T'Pol secured his wrists behind the chair. She ran her hands over his body, taking note that he had become aroused once again. She kissed him on the mouth, open and lingering.

When she broke the kiss, she asked, “What do you want?”

Trip smiled. “I want you,” he replied. “I wanna be inside you.”

T’Pol raised her eyebrow. She may have been new to the game, but she was dissatisfied with the answer. She grabbed his chin and glared at him.

“What do you want?” she demanded again.

Trip closed his eyes. He swallowed hard. “I want what you want,” he whispered.

T'Pol reached down and grabbed Trip's arousal, squeezing hard. He winced before sighing with pleasure. Her Vulcan strength did have its benefits.

"Fortunately, Mr. Tucker," she said, "what I want is what you desire."

With that she climbed on top of him, inserting him inside her body as she did so. She moved with swift deliberation, her climax overtaking her swiftly and almost without warning. Trip's soon followed and he threw his head back, sighing deeply.

She rested her head on his shoulder. After taking a moment to collect herself, she lifted her head to exchange a kiss with the still-breathless Trip. It was time to end the game.

He looked her in the eyes, smiling playfully. She was about to speak when she heard Jonathan clear his throat. He was still tied to the bed.

T'Pol pushed herself from Trip, moving to the back of the chair to untie him. "We'll be there presently, Jonathan," she said, assuring him she hadn't forgotten him.

Trip laughed softly and together they walked to the bed and undid Jonathan’s restraints, each caressing him gently. They both paid special attention to the slight red marks around Jonathan’s wrists and ankles.

“How are you?” asked Trip.

Jonathan sighed deeply. He didn't answer, but he didn't appear upset either.

T'Pol stretched out beside Jonathan, trailing her fingers through his chest hair as she snuggled in close. "This was a new experience for each of us," she soothed. "You are understandably conflicted."

Jonathan seemed to be about to speak, but he didn't. Trip, who had positioned himself next to Jonathan and had his head on the other man's shoulder, brushed a hair out of Jonathan's face.

"You know ...it's pretty common for powerful men to like to take the opposite role behind closed doors...seems they like to let go for a little while."

"Is that what they say?" said Jonathan, his voice soft but clear.

Jonathan's arms suddenly snaked around T'Pol and Trip in turn, pulling them closer. His body felt relaxed, and she felt a tentative calm through the bond. She caught Trip's eye for a moment, and she reached across Jonathan's body to entwine her fingers in his.

"In a way I envy you," continued Trip. "Being in charge of engineering isn't quite the same. Don't get me wrong. It's fun to give up control—but not as much fun as it was for you."

Trip locked eyes with T'Pol. "Or you being in the other role, for that matter," he added.

T'Pol was tempted to look away, but she didn't. She held his gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly. Jonathan looked at her curiously, and she knew she would have to explain.

"Vulcan women are expected...to submit to their mates, not be in control of them," she said. "Taking control goes against both the evolutionary and cultural norms of my people."

Jonathan lifted his head slightly, and he smiled at her. "So how did it feel?" he asked, "Did you like it?"

She nodded in the affirmative. "I may not wish to take on that role all the time, but it was certainly exhilarating. I look forward to trying it again," she said.

"Well," sighed Jonathan, "Then I guess Trip and I will have to be your slaves again...sometime in the future. You can bring some of this stuff back to the ship, right?"

T'Pol glanced up and the restraints that were hanging from the bedposts. "I believe that can be arranged," she replied.

Trip laughed softly. "I can always fabricate more stuff...if either one of you needs something special," he said.

"That'd be nice," replied Jonathan as his eyes fluttered shut.

"My pleasure," replied Trip, whose fingers were still entwined with T'Pol's.

Thanks to the contact, she understood that Trip's pleasure came not from his own experiences but from allowing both Jonathan and her to experience this new kind of intimacy.

As she watched Trip drift off to sleep, she was satisfied—but she also wondered what the two of them would make of some of her uniquely Vulcan needs.

Needs that they had not yet experienced, but she sensed they would soon.