Manipulations

Disclaimer: Not Mine! This wonderful universe is the creation of Mr. Gene Roddenberry, a man who was light years ahead of his time.

Warnings: Slash, M/M, oral, RAPE, Voy / Exhibitionism,

Chapter 2: Guilt

‘How could a man reach Dometric’s age and attain the career status that he had and maintain his virginity?’ Spock wondered idly. He had surrendered all hope of channeling his focus into the conference he had been called in to attend. Dometric had been an exquisite “experience”. He had dealt well with the situation, all the way to the end. “Remarkable how one’s convictions could be so easily swayed with the rising and setting of the sun,’ he mused. The younger Vulcan’s proposition had been well thought out but Spock had expected him to rescind his offer when it was discovered that he had a rather deviant sexual appetite, for a Vulcan. Some would call it extreme, Spock preferred “exotic”. Regardless of the semantics, he knew full well that his tastes did not lend themselves well to a virgin.

He could vividly remember the thrill he felt as he watched the dark green smear grow with each punishing stroke into the tight, unprepared passage. It was the sight of blood on his dick and the pungent smell that caused Spock to shoot his load so quickly the second time. Upon consideration, if Dometric was still in his quarters when Spock returned, and if Dometric had not changed his mind regarding his proposal, then Spock would take great satisfaction in the training of his father’s protégé. He would have three days in which to debauch, debase the traditional Vulcan taboos, permanently mark, and train his pet… partner… Anything but a mate. Again, Semantics; and again, regardless of the work, Sarek would know exactly what had transpired and why.

He and his father had played this game in so many different varieties that he no longer gave it as much thought as he would to a chess match with the doctor, a match he always won easily. Jim was a most suitable opponent, though… To distract his treacherous thoughts of his captain, Spock allowed himself to revisit the exact moment that Dometric became cognizant of the fact that he would be little more than a whore in Spock’s bed.

Vulcan seminal fluid was very acidic, a requirement for the survival of the species. The vaginal secretions of the Vulcan female were highly alkaloid and had to be neutralized to prevent the sperm from being killed before fertilization. On Dometric’s abused and abraded anal tissues, Spock knew that his cum would have been reminiscent of lemon juice in a cut. His hiss of pain and severe contraction of the swollen sphincter around Spock’s pulsing dick had been all the encouragement needed by the older man. Perhaps if Jim… Spock’s subconscious mind had alerted him to some subtle change in his surroundings, leaving him with only a few minutes to struggle through the mind numbing seminar.

”Well, Commander Spock, what are your thoughts on the seminar so far?”

Vice Admiral Sara N’Kary had dared to approach Spock when their other colleagues had read his body language as being that of someone who wished not to be disturbed, and had complied. He truly loathed this woman, one of a select few Human females Spock held in such disregard. This particular one was ranked at the same level as T’Pring. Spock’s shudder at her vapid smile went unnoticed.

“I have yet to see why my attendance was mandatory.”

“Oh, come now, Mr. Spock. Certainly you can see the potential for impact this could have aboard the Enterprise. How valuable this information will be when put to use in the field, so to speak.”

“Of course I can. That is precisely the reason I published this paper eight months ago. It is also the reason I presented this very paper to the Academy instructors five months ago as a guest lecturer, which is, I believe, where this scholar gained his information.”

“I was unaware that you had written the original work. However, our speaker has compiled considerable research-”

“Admiral,” N’Kary’s tirade had been interrupted by the only man possessing the ability to intimidate her.

“Ambassador Sarek, I didn’t realize you were interested in the Scientific Protocols of the Klingon Empire. “

“One could presume that to have been the basis for my research and the ensuing report published almost ten years ago. Which, I believe is the original paper you spoke of with my son. Spock’s paper was an extrapolation of my own work combined with his experience gained while aboard the Enterprise. A minor point of fact for you interest, if I may, Admiral. Your speaker is misquoting forty-three point eight percent of his information. Good Day, Madame.”

Admiral rank not withstanding, one could not ignore the dressing down and subsequent dismissal from a senior Ambassador. This particular one knew his own importance to the United Federation of Planets as well as Star Fleet, and had been responsible for more than one Admiral’s dishonorable discharge from the Fleet. He also had enough power to save careers, if one were fortunate enough to have garnered his favor. The two Vulcans turned away from the chastised woman and proceeded to the dining facility, where they ate in uncharacteristically silent companionship. So silent was it that Sarek was almost startled when Spock started his information gathering expedition.

“Your arrival at the conference escaped my attention.”

Sarek merely nodded.

“As N’Kary was not anticipating your attendance I would presume your presence to be voluntary.”

“Do not be so presumptuous, my son. I was not at the conference, simply waiting in the hallway.”

“For perhaps ten minutes?”

“Eight minutes and twenty-nine seconds to be precise.”

“Then your arrival did not escape my attention, after all.”

“The fact that you overestimated my time of arrival by such a large margin is rather telling, Spock. Since your thoughts were so distracted as to leave you unprepared for your inevitable exchange of pleasantries with the admiral, one could deduce that your thoughts were on a particular, highly motivated, and somewhat younger member of the diplomatic attachment. I trust Dometric is well.”

Spock allowed himself an inward smile at his next choice of words.

“He is good.”

Only a family member would have read the reproach in Sarek’s eyes as he regarded his son. Too long had this game been played, Sarek thought as Spock gave into his urge to needle his father further.

“He is, as you said, highly motivated and young. Much can be said on behalf of youthful enthusiasm.”

“Spock! Of all the conversations we have had through your life, this is by far the most distasteful manner of conduct you have used to date. The fact that you have deteriorated to such a degree is cause for concern. Your deterioration and conduct quite explain your deplorable choice of bed partners however,” Sarek added, as he rained in his emotions. He knew that Spock had been attempting to goad him… and it had been most efficient.

“You would prefer a securely entrenched vice admiral to grace my bed?”

“I would prefer Klingon livestock in your bed over certain mindless drones, but we were discussing your choice of current partners.”

“I believe that a certain mindless drone could be enticed with the lure of an ambassadorial connection. Nevertheless, as for my partner, he offered without seduction. Moreover, his offer was not exclusively for sexual favors.”

“If you wish to be used on the basis of your accomplishments I am certain that T’Pring could even be enticed. Calm yourself, my son; that is neither my wish nor my implication,” the older Vulcan added as he saw the flash of rage and pain in Spock’s eyes. He instantly regretted his harsh choice of words. “Answer me honestly, have you melded with Dometric?”

“No. While he is currently the most suitable candidate for bonding, I have no desire to meld with him in ways other than what is basically required by the bond.” Spock was quietly surprised at the relative comfort he was taking from his Father’s directness. Discussions of sex were taboo with Vulcans; as such, his comfort was not the only surprise in this conversation.

Melding was also considered too deeply personal for discussion, but was an overly sensitive subject in this family. Sarek had refused to meld with Spock at his ascension to manhood. Sarek had known then that their lives were on diverging tangents, and his ambassadorial duties would often conflict with his son’s responsibilities should he enter into Star Fleet, as T’Pau suspected the young man would do. A Science Officer he had become first, but foremost in his accomplishments was the speed with which he had climbed the rank ladder to the position of Second-in-Command of the Federation’s Flagship; the first, and thus far only, Vulcan to hold such a position. The bond of the father/son meld would have caused Spock to violate one loyalty for another continuously. By the time Spock had reached the stage of development deemed appropriate for the meld, Sarek had already grown weary of watching his son suffer that very dilemma. He would not add to it, regardless of his opinions of T’Pau’s predictions. It would take Spock another twenty years to understand the impact of his father’s decision. Healing would occur, hopefully before the next twenty had passed.

“And, if I am unable to generate a field of names beyond Dometric, and of course, N’Kary?”

“Perhaps Jim or Leonard could assist you. At least livestock would be both sentient and unconcerned with your social status beyond the fact that you are a vegetarian.”

With a resigned acquiescence, they went their separate ways. Spock knew he could find others willing, and equally suitable. The problem was, finding someone suitable who also appealed to him, and despite his father’s misgivings, Dometric fit the bill. Well, he was suitable and appealing as a bedmate. Distracted yet again, he found himself blindly stumbling into another “unprepared exchange of pleasantries”, an exchange that could have far reaching consequences. Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Enterprise, an incredibly intuitive doctor, and chief antagonist as far as Spock was concerned. He also held the distinction of being one of Spock’s oldest and dearest friends, as well as a trusted associate of Spock’s family. Therefore, when the good doctor made a comment about Spock looking guilty, he took it to heart, and disregarded the barb implying that the appearance of guilt was a result of the pointed Vulcan ears.

Guilt… Detestable… Deterioration… Deplorable… He was physically ill with the knowledge of exactly how he had changed during the past ten years. It had been an irony of fate that his rape coincided with the release of Sarek’s paper. Such an ironic coincidence… While the father sat at the head table during a reception at the Vulcan Science Academy, the very son that said academy rejected was drawn tightly across the head table of a vacant conference hall at Camp Kitomer. While Sarek was receiving accolades and praise before esteemed colleagues gathered from across three solar systems, Spock was receiving torture and abuse at the hands of unknown assailants, as his colleagues were scattered across a star base for shore leave. It was a bizarre twist of fate that six Klingons had been identified as being key to Sarek’s research, and medical research was key to identifying six different Klingons involved in Spock’s attack. It was a cruel twist of fate that one experienced early morning passion in the arms of his wife while the other experienced compassion at the hands of a women he was considering to become his wife. However, after Christine had spent a week tending to the badly torn and violated man, she had never looked at him with the same expression in her eyes again. Their friendship had continued but she no longer saw him as a sexually compatible man for her. While Sarek’s life went on relatively uninterrupted, it took several months for Spock’s daily activities and interactions to return to normal; a year before Spock could masturbate; two years before he could disrobe before a woman. She was a prostitute. It was the first time he had ever paid for sex, but at least he would not be rejected. She had spread his legs wide and engulfed his erection. He lost all emotional control when she inserted a finger into his ass. All he could see was the look of horror on Christine’s face as she had spread his legs wide and began inserting the packing in an attempt to staunch the bleeding before reparations could be affected.

Four years after the rape he was with another prostitute, a man this time; Spock’s first same sex experience. He pounded into the complacent flesh in as harsh a manner as he had experienced. Whereas it had been the first time he had been penetrated, the whore beneath him had been well stretched from frequent use. They had both taken the abuse in stony silence.

Two months later with a less experienced whore, and Spock drew blood. The power he had felt as he watched the turquoise blood seep from the inflamed tissue had been an addictive aphrodisiac. Spock had thrown a generous tip on the bed as the other man struggled to stand on shaking legs. Spock watched in contemplative silence as the whore gingerly gathered his clothes and dressed, but the flinch and hiss of pain when he tried to sit went straight to Spock’s dick. The instant tenting of Spock’s trousers caused a flash of concern in the whore, as he slid to his knees and reached for Spock’s waistband, expecting to be required to service the Vulcan again. Power comes from control, or at least Spock was discovering it to be so for him.

Almost six years later, Spock found himself nearly ill from the road of discovery he had traversed. Standing in the courtyard two stories below his Quarters, he considered the man in his suite. Was it rape? Not what he himself had endured, but had it been entirely consensual? How does one give informed consent for something with which they have no experience? Dometric had come willing into Spock’s bed, under his own suggestion. He was old enough to understand the mechanics of two men having sex. He was mature enough to recognize that Spock would be agreeable to sharing his bed with a male partner. He and Spock, while not strangers, were barely even acquaintances. He had come to Spock’s room with no firsthand knowledge of the man. And Spock had been intentionally cruel. The young Vulcan had never offered any protest as Spock took his pleasure, only a vague regret in the morning sunshine.

Guilty? The previous night had been the first time he had not paid for sex in six years. The most sexually active six years of Spock’s life. He knew that Jim never had to pay for sex. But often did so for convenience, without any other expectations. Bones, on the other hand, could take what was freely given or gladly pay for his pleasures, unlike Jim, he equated cost and quality. Spock believed he fell somewhere in the middle, he preferred to pay, as it simplified the process, but, he also had some expectations, more than Jim and less than Bones. If Spock was experiencing guilt, he reasoned, it was from lack of payment.

Sensing someone’s attention, he looked up and locked eyes with the object of his musing. No, if there was guilt, it was over not being able to consider others as… What? Worthy of consideration? That was inappropriate as it did not include his circle of friends: Jim, Bones, Montgomery Scott, Uhura, Christine Chapel, Sulu, and Chekov. No, those he valued more than ever before. They all knew what had occurred at Kitomer. Worthy of respect? Hardly appropriate either, as it included an even larger sphere of beings. His respect included his parents, who were vaguely aware of what had happened. An ambassador’s son raped…Sarek had been notified with the facts, but precious few details. Moreover, most of the Enterprise crew also knew that he had been attacked and severely injured, but that did not affect his respect for the ship’s crew. No, only his choice of sexual partners and how he related to them had been affected. Dometric had given himself freely, surely an act deserving of respect. The only reason Spock didn’t think of him as less than a whore was the man’s association with Spock’s father, and that he had given himself in an attempt to save Spock from his father’s meddling, again, certainly worthy of Spock’s respect, if not his consideration.

Spock entered the building with a firm resolve to make amends to the young man in his suite. He had never looked further than Dometric when he had sensed another’s presence, therefore he was unaware of the man watching him from the corner of a nearby building. However, it would have been most beneficial to have had knowledge of the looks that were exchanged between the two men. One looked on with open curiosity, while the other looked on with veiled animosity.

***

“Hello, Jim!” McCoy said in a distracted voice, as he took note of the man’s haggard appearance.

“Bones! What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out howling at the moon and painting the ol’ town red,” Kirk said with a clap on his friend’s back.

“Well, if you must know, and I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve already howled until I’m hoarse, and they’ve run out of red paint. Actually, I’ll leave the gallivanting, carousing, and aesthetic refinements to you and Spock this time around.”

“So, what’s brought you back to the ship?” The captain had not lost sight of his original question, and was growing suspicious at the doctor’s skillful avoidance of it.

“I learned a long time ago that when you two left the ship together, you were going to require my services immediately, so I need to be with you. If you’re headed off in different directions, I need to stay here, so I can be ready to patch you two up when you get back,” McCoy said with a long suffering sigh.

“Doctor, I just happen to know that Spock is safe and sound, tucked away in his quarters, as we speak. I saw him go in, myself. So, it would appear that this time you are wrong.” Jim let a rueful grin linger, it had often worked to convince McCoy of his sincerity.

“Uh-hu. For your information, Jim, he’s already come and gone, so now it’s your turn, and lookie-lookie, here you are! Will wonders never cease?” McCoy dropped the sarcasm and assumed his professional demeanor in the blink of an eye. “Now, what symptoms do you have, aside from lack of sleep?”

“Spock’s already been here?”

“Yes, and now you have completed my night. So what’s wrong with you?”

“What happened to Spock?” Kirk found that he was rapidly tiring of Bone’s evasiveness.

“We are talking about you; Spock has already been taken care of.”

“Bones! I am his captain. There are some things I need to know! You know how Spock minimizes his injuries!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Bones held out his hands in an attempt to placate the agitated man. “He wanted some more of that healing balm he has taking a liking to.”

“So what happened to him? How badly was he injured?”

“He wasn’t… Not that I could see or that his vitals gave up. He finally admitted it was for a … a friend.” Bones had finally conceded to the rising panic that his captain was building up to.

“A friend?”

“Damn it, Jim! You know how private the man is. Would you just stop and think about what I had to do to get the truth from him? Don’t put me on the spot like this. Now you can order me to tell you, but there’s really nothing you can do, or even should do. Just let it drop. Okay?”

Sighing in defeat, Jim capitulated.

“Yeah, yeah, Bones. You’re right, besides, I already know who and why. I don’t know why I feel the need to hear it.”

“Would this knowledge be the demon haunting you when you should be sleeping?” The doctor persona was replaced with the shrink he had so often been accused of being.

Jim gave a non-committal shrug and some indistinct murmuring that did not set well with the doctor, and when Jim looked up at his silence he could see the storm of conflict raging in McCoy’s light blue eyes.

“Bones, something you want to tell me?”

“No, but maybe there’s something you need to tell Spock.”

“I’m his commanding Officer, the -”
“You know what he’s doing to himself. If you don’t speak up now -”

McCoy was interrupted by a group of academy cadets taking advantage of the sightseeing opportunity. Jim looked at them, some appeared young enough to cause a momentary distraction to the two senior officers. As the young men and women drifted away, the chuckles grew into laughter.

“Jim, do you think their mommas know their babies are playing Star Fleet and Klingons?”

“No, Bones,” he said laughing. “I think they would be upset to learn that the child care centers are encouraging such rough and tumble play!”

“So are you going to give me something to help me sleep?”

“Yeah!” McCoy dug through his locked cabinets until he found it. “Ambrosia in a bottle!”

“Is that what I think it is?”

“If you’re thinking about 100 proof, it is! Let’s go to your place. After a day with ol’ Doc Bones’ Magical CureAll Elixir, you’ll be right as rain. Besides, I do recall saying it was your turn to howl at the moon.

***

“Dometric.” Spock greeted the man at the bedroom door. Apparently he had stayed at the window after Spock had left the courtyard.

“Greetings. I trust that all went well,” Dometric said, not meeting the older Vulcan’s eyes.

“Not initially, but it did improve as the day progressed.”

The two men stood in the doorway facing each other, until Dometric realized that Spock might be seeking entrance to his bedroom. Stepping aside, he cast a quick glance around the room. Spock had not missed the action, and upon investigation of its cause, he found his room to have been cleaned and prepared for the day. The bed had been made, and Spock knew that the linens would have been changed. The appropriate candles and incense were burning in anticipation of Spock’s daily meditation. Through the bathroom door he could see that the bathing linens had been replaced. His initial thought had been that the young man was reluctant to be in the bedroom with him, but Spock realized that the glance from Dometric had been to assure himself that the room should meet with his intended mate’s inspection. He had began assuming the role he expected to have once the bonding was complete, the role of the submissive partner. Spock pulled himself from his observation.

Having moved to the bed, Spock positioned a pillow in the middle of the bed, and moved another to the middle of the head of the bead. Turning back to Dometric, he indicated the bed.

“If you have no objections, would you lie on you stomach with your hips over the pillow. It is a better position and will make this less uncomfortable for you.”

“I-I can’t! Not - not again - YET!” Dometric stammered, paling at his interpretation of the man’s intentions.

Spock removed a jar from his robe pocket with slow deliberate movements.

“It’s for your pain. You’ve felt pain at my hand, now I hope that you are willing to accept comfort from these same hands. It’s a stage of building trust. I promise no more pain, with any of our, encounters.”

Dometric eased onto his stomach and allowed Spock to lift the hem of the bath robe he still wore. As his ass was slowly uncovered, Dometric felt the flush spread across his face. Thankfully he could hide it in his pillow. He felt instant relief as the salve was spread into his cleft. When one coated finger massaged his opening, Dometric tensed painfully. It was short lived, as the finger eased inside, slowly easing away the true pain with deep gentle strokes. And then his hips jerked in reflex to the pleasant sensations he had never experienced before.

“Does it hurt, Dometric,” Spock whispered. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes - No - Yes - No…” Spock had already stilled his movements but he had heard the catch in Dometric’s breathing and could feel the slight muscle spasm of the ring surrounding his finger.

“No. It doesn’t truly hurt anymore. It’s still tender, but you’re ministrations do not hurt. However, I would prefer for you to stop, for now at least. Maybe we could… continue… later.”

“I’m not a monster, Dometric,” Spock said as he removed his finger and lowered the robe again. “I know that your experience was unpleasant. I do not mind waiting until you are ready for there to be a next time. I just wanted to show you that the next time would be nothing like the first time.”

At the softness of the voice, Dometric had turned onto his side so that he could look at his intended mate. He had never seen such emotion in the deep brown eyes. Certainly he had not inherited his father’s eyes, and his mother had blue eyes. He was in the middle of musing over Spock’s eyes when the man spoke.

“The next time we come together in bed I will make love to you, it will be something that is shared and mutually enjoyed.” Spock began wiping his hand on a wash cloth that had been thoughtfully placed on the bedside table.

“May I?” he asked, nodding toward Dometric's erection, which was parting the robe and standing in dignified beauty against the chiseled abdomen.

Dometric eased onto his back, watching in anxious silence as he was engulfed by the most tender mouth he could ever imagine; gentle, delicate actions, with just enough pressure to feel incredible. Dometric’s orgasm took him by surprise. There had been no building, no tension, no warning. Just the sudden explosion, and the feel of a very skilled mouth… gently… swallowing… every… drop… until his soft cock was taken from the mouth, by a warm hand, and gently laid against his thigh. When he felt the warm hands massaging his low abdomen, Dometric realized that at some point he had closed his eyes. With a look at the solemn older man, his intended mate, he felt the tears began rolling down his cheeks.

From across the courtyard, two others watched on with ragged breathing, shaking hands and a now half empty bottle of whiskey.

TBC

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