Equilateral

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The villa sparkled in the morning sun, and out of habit T’Pol was straightening up the bedroom. The Ikkarans would have been shocked to discover her doing such menial tasks, but she didn’t care. Their hosts kept late hours and did not wish to meet them until afternoon, so her mates were enjoying their leisure time. After a pleasant breakfast together, Jonathan and Trip had decided to spend the morning making use of the villa’s swimming pool. She was not as attached to the idea of sunning and swimming, but she had decided to join them.

She stripped off her clothes and headed out to the private pool garden. Jonathan was swimming laps and Trip was sunning himself on a lounge chair. He opened his eyes, and his mouth dropped. Illogically so, she thought. Not only did he see her unclothed on a regular basis, he knew that Vulcans did not wear swimsuits.

Trip stood up and approached her. He made no move to touch her, but he looked her up and down. She was suddenly, unusually, conscious that she was naked and he was not.

T’Pol knew her lack of swimming attire would provoke her mates, but the look in Trip’s eyes was more than desirous. She remembered his promise at the market, and she realized he was of a mind to keep it. Her unclothed state meant something in the context of what had occurred the previous night, and Trip intended to use it to reverse her role.

Her eyes met his, and he smiled. She glanced over at Jonathan, who had swum up to the edge of the pool and was watching them intently.

“You both will need to keep your defiance in check this afternoon,” she said, “We don’t wish to insult our hosts.”

Trip glanced over at Jonathan and grinned.

“I think we both proved that we can. . .adjust to the situation.”

“You both did well last night,” she said softly, “after we returned, that is.”

“It’s not easy giving up complete control,” said Trip, “as pleasurable as it can be.”

“You believe I could not do as well?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

Jonathan laughed at that, knowingly.

“I didn’t say that,” said Trip, “but I think you’ll find it a challenge, that’s all. Jon, do you think she’s up for it?”

Jonathan pushed himself out of the pool, his body dripping wet. He stood up. “I think she can do it. I just think she won’t have as easy a time as we did.”

Trip folded his arms and looked her up and down. She was still uncharacteristically conscious of her nudity.

“I will serve you,” she said clearly, looking down.

“On the ground,” Trip ordered softly.

T'Pol took Jonathan's extended hand and he guided her down until she knelt before Trip.

"Hands and knees," said Trip.

She lowered herself until she was prone, thankful to be on the soft grass rather than the hard tile.

“Jon,” said Trip, “Hold her shoulders down.”

Jonathan slowly got to his knees, gently pressing her face to the ground and placing his hands firmly on her shoulders.

“"I think you were enjoying things in the market too much. Don't you?"

T’Pol kept her eyes down, knowing she shouldn’t look up at either of her mates. “Yes,” she replied. She breathed in and out slowly, and she felt Trip’s calloused fingers softly caress her posterior.

“Do you think you deserve to be punished for that?” asked Trip.

She inhaled. She knew the game. There was only one answer. “Yes,” she replied, as her heart beat faster.

She felt a sharp, stinging blow land with a crack, harder than he had ever hit her. Her nerve endings tingled, and as if to punctuate that, she felt his fingers deliver feather-light touches on her hurting skin.

“Would you like another?” he asked.

T'Pol knew the consequences for hesitation, but for reasons still alien to her she had difficulty finding her voice, finally answering with a shaky "Yes."

The slap to her backside matched the intensity of the previous blow.

“Good girl,” whispered Trip.

T'Pol was warmed by the unmistakable approval in his voice, his fingertips again soothing her with the lightest of caresses over her throbbing flesh.

“Are you enjoying your punishment?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. Her face burned with the realization that she looked forward to his next blow. The place between her legs ached sharply, and she needed more stimulation. She also found that ceding control was. . .exhilarating. Yet, the next blow did not seem forthcoming. She resisted the urge to look up at him, and she waited. Meanwhile, Jonathan's grip on her shoulders became slightly tighter.

“You tell me. Tell me what you want.” asked Trip.

She swallowed and bit her lip. “I want what you want,” she said, remembering the previous night.

As she waited, almost desperately, for the blow she craved, she heard him gently laugh.

“Not good enough,” he whispered, “I want to hear you say how much you want it.”

“I want another.” She moaned softly and squeezed her eyes shut. “Please...”

He reacted immediately, delivering a smack that made her wince as well as quiver with pleasure. She felt his caresses again, but this time his hand strayed from her backside, exploring the wetness between her thighs. She gasped and moaned louder, but his fingers didn’t seem intent on pleasuring her.

“Jon,” said Trip, “I think she is enjoying this. It’s made her all hot . . .and wet.”

“Really?” she heard Jonathan reply playfully.

She felt Trip remove his fingers and lean forward to where Jonathan knelt. She desperately resisted looking up, but she failed. Fortunately, her mates were too engrossed in each other to notice.

She saw Trip lean forward and offer his fingers to Jonathan, who sucked on them eagerly.

“Nice, huh?” asked Trip.

“Very nice,” Jonathan answered, then leaned forward to place a kiss on Trip’s lips.

Before her disobedience was detected, T’Pol lowered her eyes again and found herself staring at Jonathan’s arousal. As silent as he had been, he was clearly enjoying the game. Trip had to have noticed, too, because he soon spoke.

“Maybe you should have her take care of that for you?”

T'Pol felt her head being pushed down, Jonathan's erection suddenly before her face. Caught by surprise, she resisted the urge to flinch.

"Suck it," Jonathan ordered her clearly.

She inhaled deeply and took him into her mouth, allowing her her tongue to dance around his shaft before she sucked him a hard as she could. Possibly harder than she ever had, and he responded with a loud groan.

“Beautiful,” he gasped.

She reveled in the way she was pleasing Jonathan, and she worked him hard with her hands and mouth. Suddenly, she felt Trip’s fingers ghosting over the sore skin of her backside.

“Good girl,” said Trip, “Keep going.”

She sucked harder and faster, and Jonathan responded by digging his hands into her shoulder and letting out a near-anguished moan. In response, Trip smacked her backside with another hard, stinging crack, which made her dizzy with pleasure.

“That’s it, honey,” whispered Trip, “Make him come. I know you want to.”

She worked faster and faster, teasing Jonathan's testicles with her fingers. She felt them tighten and soon her mouth filled with salty liquid. She swallowed it all as she let go and Jonathan ran his grateful fingers through her hair.

She hoped Trip would smack her again, but she instead felt his hands on her thighs.

“Open your legs,” ordered Trip and she instantly obeyed.

As he entered her, a frustrated whimper caught in T'Pol's throat. The sensation of being filled and stretched by Trip was pleasurable, but she was spread so wide she was unable to create friction where she craved it most.  She struggled to adjust herself, but to no avail; Trip and Jonathan both still held her firmly in place.

Her hand slipped involuntarily between her legs, in an effort to deliver the relief she so desperately sought. Once more she felt the sting of Trip's hand against her backside, even harder than before.

The jolt from the spanking provided her a small measure of mercy, but it was short-lived and she was crying out again. Trip grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back.

"We'll have none of that, darlin'" he said firmly, “You’ll come when we say you can, not before.”

Jonathan’s hands became less firm, more soothing. “I have an idea,” he said to Trip.

Trip ceased his motions, and spoke to Jonathan. "What?"

"We can remove the temptation," Jonathan suggested, "if we take her upstairs to where the equipment is."

T'Pol didn't need to look up to know Trip was grinning, and she moaned a little as he withdrew from her. Before she realized what was happening, Jonathan had scooped her up into his arms and was carrying her towards the house.

Trip was following closely behind, and she knew nothing else to do but close her eyes. When they reached the bedroom, she expected to be tossed onto the bed, but instead, Jonathan placed her on her knees. She felt Trip’s hands bind her wrists together and hook them to the wall.

T’Pol heart caught in her throat, and her emotions started to unravel. In the barbaric past, when a man’s mate was unwilling, he would bind her thusly so she could not escape him. Even since the Awakening, women were sometimes ritualistically positioned this way, only without the bindings, as they awaited their mate’s attention.

She went limp in the restraints, telling herself that Trip would never hurt her. He was merely playing a game meant to intensify her pleasure.

She felt Trip's hands run across her back, her buttocks and the back of her legs. "You're doing great, darlin," he whispered in her ear.

His hands gripped her thighs and spread her legs wide. She felt him fill her body, which was slick and wet and ached for him, and he used his hands to wrap her legs around his body. She tightened them as his arms came around her waist. She cried out, and he moaned deeply in her ear.

Jonathan edged closer.  Reaching between T'Pol and the wall, he ran his hands up and down her taut stomach, eventually sliding higher to knead the curve of her breasts. Her head went back onto Trip's shoulder, and she moaned again when Jonathan pinched and teased her nipples.

"Don't you dare come yet," Trip growled into her ear.

Emotion ran riot through T'Pol.  Joy...pain...ecstasy...frustration—all became tangled until one was no longer discernible from the other.  She wanted nothing more than to please her mates, though the urge to forcibly free herself for the sake of attaining a state of relief--even if it meant extracting the hook from the wall—was becoming undeniable.

"Not yet," Trip said hoarsely as he continued to mercilessly thrust in and out of her.

T'Pol's body tensed. The last shred of her physical and emotional control was eroding away as she watched.  It would have been shameful, humiliating, were it not for the touch of her mates.  

Jonathan's hands moved lower. She struggled to hold on. She was losing.

She searched Jonathan's face through eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. He and Trip were not speaking, though it was clear there was communication happening between them.

"Go ahead, Jon," Trip rasped. "Make her come."

T'Pol's heart leapt at the sudden show of mercy.  

Jonathan's fingers found her clitoris. Emotions continued to mingle and conflict; rather than the relief she thought she desperately craved, she was at once delighted and disappointed that she had reached the encounter's natural conclusion.

"Make her come, Jon," Trip's voice resonated in her ear.

T'Pol climbed higher than ever before as Jonathan teased and tortured her.

"Do it," Trip urged her softly.

Caught up in the chaos of her own pleasure, T'Pol was unaware of the smile that played across her mouth.  

"Do it now!" Encouragement became an order.

T'Pol's body tightened and spasmed as she fell from her precipice.  Trip immediately followed, spilling into her with an agonized groan.

A scream tore from her lips...and something else, not immediately recognizable to her own ear:

the peal of laughter.

Vaguely, as if far in the distance, she felt Trip’s body shudder its own release as his pleasure filled her mind. Jonathan’s hands ran up her body and turned her face toward him.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, planting soft kisses on her face.

She felt her mouth contort into a strange shape, as the laughter softened to intermittent giggles. Jonathan gently undid the bindings, and Trip’s head lay on her shoulder. Both their bodies heaved from their exertions, and they simply slid to the floor in each other’s arms.

“I think the game’s over,” said Jonathan, as he lay down also and positioned himself in front of her. His hands caressed her face, and he watched her closely.

"You were wonderful, baby," whispered Trip, "Just perfect."

Another giggle escaped, and she reached her hand to her mouth. She thought it must be a strange sight to her humans—the fear that was no doubt in her eyes when she laughed.

Trip was suddenly focused, though still catching his breath. He leaned closer, his expression of concern mirroring Jonathan's. They exchanged a worried glance. "Baby, are you okay?"

T'Pol struggled not only to regain control, but to conceal her state of panic from her mates. "Perhaps I was overwhelmed by the role playing," she said, possibly trying to convince herself as much as them."I require rest...and meditation." She took a deep, cleansing breath, hoping to center herself and purge the intrusive emotional reactions. "I apologize for my lapse."

Jonathan looked at her with nothing but compassion. “There’s no need to apologize. We're sorry if we pushed you too far.”

Trip’s arms squeezed her gently and he craned his neck around to look at her face. “I . . .didn’t mean to hurt you at all. I sensed you were enjoying it. I’m sorry if I went over the line.”

“I sensed you were liking it, too,” said Jonathan, “but... Is there anything we can do?”

T’Pol sat up and began breathing deeply, in and out. She needed quiet.

“I require meditation,” she repeated hoarsely.

“You got it,” said Trip, “Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

She nodded, only dimly aware of what she was agreeing to.  Mentally detached from her body, she barely felt the cool damp cloths Trip and Jonathan slid over her body.  One thought alone stayed prominent in her mind:

She and her mates would have to talk. Soon.