mirroredcommand | [mirror!Pike and nu!Spock] -- [Private, uncommentable]

This is rated NCC-1701. Seriously. This gets quite graphic. Read at your own hesitation. Not suitable for ANYONE, but if you have a very filthy mind, enjoy!

Security was standing there, two of them directly to either side of the lone occupied cell of the brig. It was so quiet that the hum of the ship seemed more audible then normal. The protected cell was generous for a cell, and its occupant sat on the bed, sprawled casually as if he was in his own bedroom instead of a prisoner.

[OOC: This entire thread takes place between Ensign Spottacus leaving the brig and Spock returning to his quarters and talking with Jim. During this time, amazingly, no one came and checked on the prisoner. This thread cannot have comments as it occurred in private and has already occurred.

ALSO NOTE: As laid down by

cso_spock, the security cameras have been incredibly well edited to show nothing out of the ordinary occurring.

P.S. to the Enterprise herself - Done under Cmdr. Spock's codes and the like, the editing would have only been noted somewhat and since the cameras otherwise off, unknowing that it was occurring.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He felt trapped in his own mind meld. Everything was cold, burning cold. He felt a humiliation, a violation, that was not his. Half-formed internal questions of how-what-why all died as he was forced to watch, unable to close himself from the image.

That Spock, there, stomach pressed into the console, Spock could barely imagine what he would be thinking, the conflict between biology and hierarchy. His hand fisted, white-knuckled, bracing against the console, whole body tense and amazingly tight around Pike. His expression didn't change. He hadn't cried out, and he didn't now. Only his jaw had tightened.

Head turned sideways, staring intently at something across the room--Spock glanced over his shoulder at him. His expression was neutral but his eyes were not. Spock knew that look. He had always used it at the Academy. A challenge--Is that it? You think a fuck can break me?

Suddenly Pike leaned forward with a grunt, speaking right against the Vulcan's ear as a gloved hand wrapped around his cock. "If I wanted someone broken, you emotionless fuck, I would have gotten some useless slave. On this ship, you fucking prove yourself or you get thrown out the nearest airlock. You obey me, or you die." He ripped off the glove that was on the back of Spock's neck, holding it in his teeth. He thrust hard, slamming up against the Vulcan's prostate, and at the same time the hand came down onto the back of the pale neck.

Lust, burning, pure, hot. Adrenaline, hunger, thirsty, need. Those thoughts he forced down, he urged, out of the other beneath him. The other glove still remained squeezing where it was.

A sharp inhale and the slightest arch of his back, that's all he'd give him. Every thought he force-fed Spock got repaid fivefold in intensity, all wrapped up in a searing anger, so purely Vulcan in flavour. Spock was familiar with each one. They were undeniably his own, and it was threatening to consume him. The cock was aching hard in his grip, but Spock refused to thrust into his hand, refused to take advantage of the friction of the leather.

"Is this...obedience, sir?" Spoken in a low tone, just for the Captain, but still taunting him with his calm, if interrupted, tone.

"I don't see you fighting back." Was the only response to his question. "You're harder then stone. You're fucking enjoying it." Another crack of hips, repeated harder, breath hot on Spock's ear before that ear was bitten hard in sharp teeth.

A sound came up from his chest and was killed in Spock's throat, right before his hips shoved back into Pike's, regardless of the hands on him. It wasn't exactly fighting back, but it wasn't encouraging, either--more...retaliatory. "I am enjoying you," As if the Vulcan wasn't being the one fucked over a console in front of the bridge.

That retaliation earns Spock a stroke with the leather covered hand, squeezing at the top of the glans and back down. "As damn well you should."

His eyes actually close for a moment, and there's the briefest swallow before he regains his breath again--liking this more than he'll admit. "Captain--" It rolls off his tongue so, so well, but whatever else he wanted to say after that has been lost with everything that is, obviously, clouding his mind. It's evident even to an outsider.

"Good boy." Another brief bite, another stroke. Reward for his obedience. "Say it again." His thrusts continue, getting closer by the second.

[mirror!Pike and nu!Spock] -- [Private, uncommentable]

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