The Past Remembered - The Brand

[mirroredcommand]

[OOC: This occurs during the year 2253. The year that Pike and Spock left from was 2263, so this was ten years ago. They were only bonded five years ago, to put things into perspective.]

It was not even a full year into their five year mission, but already things had become interesting with his young crew. They desired to rise in the ranks with more urgency then older crews, say the one he had left behind on the I.S.S. Yorktown, but they were young fools without realizing the consequences of having little to no experience in not only the possible new rank, but even in the ways of assassination. Several weak attempts had already been made for his life, but they had been easily dealt with early on. Now things had settled and they were all dealing with their newly acquired positions or grumbling about the failures they had suffered.

There were four in particular that still concerned him, and Pike was keeping the closest eyes on them. The first was his helmsman, Hikaru Sulu. The young man was brilliant in his abilities in flight, absolutely ruthless, but he would not leave alone any young lady that walked onto the bridge. The second was his navigator, the scruffy haired child who was the youngest on his ship. Chekov seemed innocent, but was anything but. He was a silent assassin, vicious and very good at what he did. Pike still couldn't find the body of the person he had originally chosen to be his alpha navigator. Nyota Uhura was dangerous. She was one of the few women to reach as high as she had without sleeping with anyone; she just killed anyone who was in her way. They were often found in their beds, and it often involved a lot of blood.

Then there was Spock, the last of his crew that he was dealing with more often then expected. He heard the constant rumors about 'the Vulcan' on their crew. People were afraid of him, even as they tried to hide it with false bravado. He had taken a shine to the young Vulcan he had bent over the console on the bridge his first day and proven to the crew he had no fear of those who, as rumors put it, 'could turn his mind to mush and drink it through a straw.'

Spock was his, chosen by him when everyone else was too foolish to see possibility. He had been forced to defend Spock on several occasions, most without Spock knowing he had stepped in. One attempt already included a small group who decided to take care of the 'green-blood' on their ship. It had been all too recently that he had been forced to step up and defend Spock in a more physical manner, to prove his point. Spock was a part of his crew, and despite the rumors passing between ships and across Starfleet, was not a slave.

The flesh around his right arm was still tender, itching and burning alternatively despite the incident having happened just over a month ago. It was an ugly reminder of the whip that had curled around his forearm and burned through the skin to the bone. McCoy's skilled hands had been part of fixing it, but also Spock's diligence in making up for the marks by helping him to tend it. Pike was surprised to realize he had begun to trust the young science officer.

He had brought Spock to his rooms more then once a week for a while now, mostly enjoying the mix of resentment and almost puppy-like devotion that came from the half-Vulcan and teaching him the base pleasures of pain and sex. It was almost impossible to find such a raw mass of possible talent that had no molding what so ever, and he had it in one convenient package. He sent the boy back to his own quarters each night, unless he planned to keep Spock trussed up for the entire night.

Pike looked across the room to the collection of leather, metal, and toys he had in mostly plain sight. The weaponry that crossed the walls was more vivid, but the collection was impressive that he allowed it to be displayed. When he wanted to enjoy someone, even more so when they were going to fight back, he wanted to always have something appropriate on hand to deal with them. In fact, the more they fought, the better it often was. Spock had gone back to his bed with no end of marks on his wrists, ankles, neck, and elsewhere.

Tonight, he had yet to decide what he would do with the young Vulcan. The possibilities were endless, and he had yet to find the limits of how far he could push the boy.

Comments

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Pike was still fully dressed. For some reason the contrast between his captain, still in uniform, with his own nudity struck Spock as highly appropriate.

But it wasn't enough - he was stretched taut across, balancing between too much and needing more.

"Captain, please." He needed Pike's touch, the painful, controlling hand. "I want."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"You want what?" He was sure he could draw the words out of Spock, let the filthy words taint. The fact that Spock could move any time he wanted, rip free the glass and fight, yet he did not by Pike's sheer command alone was a point of pleasure greater then any other.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

His head jerked sharply in negation but he whispered the words anyway.

"Your hands, I want them. I need more, some small hurt. Permission. Or command. Christopher, please."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"Better." Pike moved across the bed, rewarding Spock with a brush of his backs of his fingernails up the exposed inner wrist, brushing the edge of the wrist and the glass globe in Spock's palm. "What do you want permission for?"

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

it was not quite like ice but Pike's fingernails were cool and smooth against his fevered skin, a pale jade flush colored his skin as though he had been exherting himself in some sort of struggle.

"To remove these and touch you."

Spock craved his orgasm but for that... he would wait for a command.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"If I gave you permission, how would you touch me?" He stroked the sensitive place where palm and fingers met on Spock's hand. He wanted that struggle to end in failure for Spock, to have him succumb entirely. It was exquisite torture, one that would bring its own pain if Spock did not let go.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He was clearly participating in the madness of his own downfall.

"I wish to taste your skin. Want... I want to place my own mark upon you."

Spock's fingers flexed, curled under the stroking and his breath choked in his throat at the pull of the skin across his palm combined with the warm tingle where their fingers touched.

The soft touches, at odds with the vaccum pulling bruised welts into his flesh, wound him tighter and his panting took on a desperate quality. Not enough air, he was burning.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"What mark would you place?" The hitches of breath could be heard clearly in the quiet room, as Pike brought his head close enough that he could ghost a breath across the Vulcan's fingertips. The more he kept Spock talking, the farther he would slip into the madness that came just before release.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He did not, strictly speaking, have permission for the action but Spock pressed the backs of his hands against the sheets, scraped the throbbing welts there against the weave of the fabric. The material had felt so soft at first; now it was an edge of pain keeping him from flying apart at the feel of Pike's breath, the image of his mouth so close to Spock's fingers.

"My teeth, I would mark you with teeth. Your arm."

The scar that wrapped around his captain's forearm was, Spock knew, considered disfiguring by many who observed it. But Pike had received it in Spock's place - it belonged to Spock.

"Others should see."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"You've managed to hide or heal every mark I've given you," Pike suddenly picked up Spock's hand and dragged his teeth across the bruised skin, "Why should I allow any from you?" The power he held in his hands was immense, something he teased out over the span of weeks now.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

The cry left his throat like a wounded bird and his body jerked at the pleasure of it.

"I cannot hide these." His free hand spasmed, and he curled his fingers around the glass, grasped it - he must hold to something. "And I do not entertain others."

Vulcans did not share. Spock harbored no illusions - he had no right to lay claim or make demand. But he did not have to like it.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"You will not entertain others." Pike's tone fell into something dangerously close to jealousy. "If I find another's mark on your body, you will both pay." His thumb dug into the injured flesh, pressing hard on the bruise.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

His cry was closer to a scream this time - it was almost enough, almost what he needed.

"I do not desire others."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Pike's own breath stuttered at the sound of Spock's voice, a small sign of its effect on Pike's body. He rewarded the statement by pulling Spock's hand so that the welt lay against his lips. His tongue caressed it once before he pressed his teeth in a sharp bite.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He had wanted to wait, tried to wait in order to demonstrate how true to his captain's word he could be. But the bite shoved him past the limits he had been teetering on. The orgasm wracked him, the pull of Pike's possessive words still thrilling him as the roar of blood in his ears blotted out his own whimpered, lip-bitten moan.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Pike drank in every moment of Spock's release, capturing the image of the exact expression Spock held during it. The thick ejaculate covered Spock's stomach and marked himself as neatly as any of the welts. He let his hand wonder down to his thighs and found heat, squeezing tightly to keep it from over whelming him.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock slowly settled, the glass bells now purely painful in the wake of his release. His eyes glittered as he watched Pike's every movement.

"You leave me no control."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

The four remaining glass globes were removed with light pressure to pull the skin away and unseal the vacuum. They were placed aside, then Pike reached down and swirled a fingertip through the whiteness on Spock's stomach. "That is entirely the point."

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

The removal of each globe made him gasp, the welts almost throbbing with his pulse.

"I should not allow it."

But he made no move to stir from under Pike's hand.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

"But you do." He sucked the moisture from his fingertip and sat back, taking in the sight of the Vulcan as Spock lay on his bed. The bruises were vivid on his pale skin, his hair was messy, and dignity in shambles. Pike never thought Spock looked better.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

Spock turned over with a feline grace, smearing his semen and his scent on his captain's bedding. He closed the short distance between them with a loose-limbed crawl.

"You said I could touch you."

He didn't wait for a response, ducked his head to lick at the puckered scar tissue he helped to tend.

"You could mark me more permanently."

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

Pike's eyes closed momentarily at the touch of heat on the sensitive scar. He breathed out, "I did not give permission," Yet he made no move to stop Spock. It was like having a very large, dangerous feline in his bed. Letting him stroke and tease, but who knew how long before it would dare to strike out with claws?

Spock's comment of marking more permanently made his eyes open again, and he looked to Spock with a silent raised eyebrow. The tone it had been spoken in clearly said Spock had something in mind.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

He bit lightly. The urge to mark Pike as his was strong, to leave bruises anyone else who accepted an invitation would see - and take as warning. But he bit lightly, not enough to mark in any public way. The scar was his mark, whether the others knew it or not.

"You were scarred for me. I would accept a similar mark in return."

He nosed up Pike's arm to the shoulder, growled his frustration at the vest obstructing his path.

[iron-command.livejournal.com]

It was interesting to hear how Spock thought of the scar. To him, it meant little. It had not impaired his life, and he heard whispers concerning how he might have gotten the scar. The rumors were entertaining.

"Would you, now?" He watched Spock's frustration with the vest and undid the front of it, allowing it to be able to be slid from his shoulders. A scar would be a far more permanent mark in Spock's skin.

[mirroredspock.livejournal.com]

The growl shifted to a grumbling rumble as Spock stripped the vest off of Pike's body.

He looked up sharply, eyes fierce and hot.

"I am not unaware of how others regard me. Or your... responses."