Warnings: Dubcon, misogyny, submission, humiliation, abuse of power, victim-blaming, whorephobic language, infidelity, explicit sex, genderswap, evil!Kirk
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairings: Kirk/fem!Spock, and to a lesser extent, Uhura/fem!Spock
Written for this prompt at strek-id-kink.
It was a very logical policy.
A majority of sentient beings had certain sexual desires that, if not properly seen to, could theoretically lessen said being's efficiency. And when that being was the captain of a constitution-class starship, well, there could be no distractions, no frustrations that might keep him from working at his highest level of efficiency.
"Commander Spock," Captain Kirk's voice rang out from Spock's communicator, "Report to my quarters. Immediately."
Nyota groaned, irritatedly pulling her lips from Spock's neck and settling back on the bed. "Are you kidding me?"
"Yes Captain," Spock replied, giving Nyota an apologetic look, "I will be there as soon as possible."
Nyota crossed her arms, glaring at her girlfriend's communicator. "He better have a damn good excuse."
Spock kissed her on the cheek to avoid meeting her eyes. "I'm certain he does," and wiping Nyota's lipstick off her neck, she headed to the door without another look back.
It was actually a somewhat obscure rule, so in most cases, the captain and first officer were the only ones who knew about it. The only place Spock had seen it referenced was in a piece of training literature: The First Officer's Manual. The manual contained a small paragraph, with ill-defined parameters on the first officer's duty to service the captain sexually. Spock found the rule somewhat distasteful, but when she signed on with Captain Pike, whom she knew to be a kind and honest man, she hadn't feared it being used against her. When she signed on with Kirk, she hadn't known him as well, but she believed they had established a mutual respect that would preclude the possibility of him taking advantage of her.
In retrospect, she could see how naive she'd been.
The turbolift emitted a soft tone as it reached its destination. Spock disembarked and headed straight for the captain's quarters. She buzzed, and didn't allow herself to hope that some emergency had called him away.
The door opened and Spock exhaled softly from her nose, stepping in. The door slid shut behind her and she ignored the claustrophobic feeling she always had when alone in a closed space with the captain.
"Spock!" he smiled brightly at her from where he sat on his bed, still in his uniform, "How's my best girl?"
"I am in optimal health, Captain," Spock nodded.
He slid his gaze over her body, stopping just below her waist, then flicking his eyes back to meet her's. "You're wearing them, right?"
"Indeed," Spock folded her hands behind her back.
"Show me." His eyes were glued to the hem of her skirt.
Fixing her eyes to a spot above his head, she raised her skirt till it was gathered around her waist. Beneath the blue uniform was a black, lacy thong that he had instructed her to wear that day. Technically, he had no authority to dictate what undergarments she wore, but he had ways of making things unpleasant for her when she didn't obey his commands.
"Turn around," he said absently, "How do you like them?"
"They are uncomfortable and impractical," her voice was neutral, despite the violating feeling of his gaze on her nearly bare behind, "A most illogical garment."
Kirk laughed. "You drove me fucking crazy today. Watching you bent over that console, knowing you were wearing those. God, it took all my strength not to throw you down and fuck you right on the bridge."
She felt a tightness growing in her chest at the thought. She would have nerve-pinched him if he'd tried it. Even though Starfleet would have disciplined her severely for using physical force against her captain when he was acting well within his rights, she didn't think she could bear the humiliation of the captain demeaning her like this in front of an audience. "I'm grateful for your restraint."
"Don't pretend you didn't want me to, you skank," the bed creaked as he stood, and soon he was right behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing their bodies together, letting his half-hard groin press into her rear. "The way you were waving your skinny little ass in my face all day, you were just begging for it."
She opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it, knowing the futility of contradicting him. His hands slid from around her waist down to her bare hips. His lust and possessiveness blared in her mind, making her shudder under his grip and forcing her to quickly re-assert her mental shields. It was difficult to block emotions being broadcast so strongly through direct skin contact, and her control of her own emotions always suffered when she tried to, but she couldn't stand feeling his emotions inside of her. She was determined to let her mind be one part of her he could never own.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," he ran his hands down her thighs and back up to her hips, "Were you thinking about me? When I called you?"
Spock swallowed, wishing she could see his face to gauge the most appropriate response. "Vulcans cannot lie, Captain."
"Then don't lie," she could hear a smile in his voice, "What, afraid I'll spank you if I don't like your answer?"
Her face burned. They both knew it wouldn't be a first. "I wasn't thinking of you."
"Then what were you thinking about?"
She clenched her eyes shut. She knew from his tone he wouldn't let it go until she gave a straight answer. "Lieutenant Uhura."
His hand froze on her hip, then he withdrew completely.
She felt cold without him pressed against her and she could feel his stare on her back. When the silence stretched on, she knew she had to change the subject before he could think up something truly horrible to do to her. "Permission to lower my dress, Sir?"
"Denied," he said flatly, "Take it off. Take everything off."
She was glad he took the bait and unsurprised that he wouldn't give her what she asked for. Without having to block him from her mind, she could manage the embarrassment of undressing in front of him. She pulled her dress off, setting it down beside her feet. Then she removed her bra and her boots. She stuck her fingers in the waistband of her underwear with the intent of pulling them off.
"On second thought," said Kirk, "I want you to leave those on."
"Yes Captain," she folded her arms over her breasts as her nipples grew uncomfortably hard in the cold air. She could hear him sit back down on the bed.
"On your hands and knees," he ordered, "Come here."
Spock dropped to her knees and crawled over to him. She stopped at his feet.
He sighed tiredly, petting her head. "I can't stay mad at you. You're such a good little bitch. Aren't you, girl?"
When the petting turned into a rough yank of her hair, she realized the question wasn't rhetorical. "I am."
"You're what, Spock?"
"I am a good little bitch."
"Whose bitch are you?"
"See," his tone was light as he lifted his booted foot and stepped on her hand, "I thought so too. But you've got his thing with Uhura. Now how are you supposed to be my bitch if you just turn around and do everything you do for me, with her? That doesn't sound like a good bitch to me. Sounds more like a fucking whore." He pulled her hair until she was forced to looked up at him. He met her eyes with an icy cold glare.
"Forgive me," was all she could think to say. She didn't know how to placate him, and if he asked her to choose between her career in Starfleet and Nyota, she would pick Nyota, but she would prefer to avoid that choice all together, if possible.
"It's not that easy," he let go of her hair and stood, unbuttoning his pants. He pulled them and his boxers down to his ankles in one motion, then sat back on the bed, his legs wide open. His erection had waned for the most part. "I need you to prove your loyalty to me."
Spock glanced warily up at him, then used her free hand to reach for his crotch.
He ground her other hand under his boot. "No hands. Just your mouth."
She had guessed as much from her position, but she didn't regret trying. He released her hand and she rose to her knees to gain better access to him. She leaned forward, licking a soft trail down the length of Kirk's penis. It stirred against his thigh and Spock placed her mouth over its slowly swelling head. She flattened her tongue against his slit, then licked slowly up and down.
As the captain moaned, he snapped his legs shut around her, pressing both of his bare thighs against her sides.
It was too sudden and intense for Spock to shield against it. The captain's lust coursed through her veins and her head jerked away from him as a loud moan tore its way out of her throat. Her hand rose reflexively to cover her mouth and she felt her face burn dark green. She shuddered at the throbbing between her legs.
He smirked triumphantly. "Is sucking my dick making you wet, Miss Spock?"
She blushed even darker, because she could indeed feel her panties moistening. She folded her arms and let her head hang, desperate to collect herself.
"Don't be shy now," he grabbed the back of her head, pushing her face against his groin, which was much harder after watching her shameful display, "Not when you were doing such a good job of showing what a slut you are."
She couldn't stop the tremors in her hands and she knew she needed to get back to her quarters and meditate as soon as possible. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and slowly lowered it over his erection. She closed her mouth around it, and with a deep breath through her nose, she took him all the way to his base, letting him dip into her throat. Her mental shields were closed tightly, so she felt none of his reaction, but her own shame was beyond her control, and she couldn't tell if the sick feeling in her stomach was from that or if her gag reflex was acting up.
Kirk was gripping her shoulders tightly, his finger nails digging into her skin. He angled his hips to give himself more leverage, then began thrusting in and out. He pulled her by her shoulders to meet his thrusts and Spock hanged limply in his hands. "That's it," he gasped, "This is what you're made for, Spock. This is right where you belong."
She could tell that he was close, from the way his speech slurred and how his thrusting turned into sloppy jerking. The back of her throat burned from the friction and she shut her eyes to brace herself for the foul taste of his cum.
His breathing ragged, he thrust into her mouth one more time, then to Spock's confusion, he pulled out.
She opened her eyes to question it, but snapped them shut reflexively when the captain's ejaculate splattered all over her face. The warm goo dripped from her eyelashes, running down her cheek and nearly coating her lips. She made no attempt to wipe it off. Instead, she clenched her trembling hands against her thighs, because she knew if she raised them, she would end up snapping his neck.
"Open your eyes," he ordered, and he let go of her shoulders, "Look at me."
She opened them, wincing as a speck of cum got in one of them, and slowly looked up at him.
He was pulling his pants back up, though his eyes never wavered from her face as he buttoned them. "I want you to remember this. When you're kissing your little girlfriend, I want you to think of this. When you touch yourself at night, I want you to think of this. Don't ever forget that you're mine, and only mine."
She swallowed, feeling her jaw clench and unclench. She wouldn't do it, voluntarily, but now that he'd planted the idea, she didn't know if she would be able to keep from obeying. She could imagine her every moment of intimacy with Nyota from there on out, marred by this memory rising unbidden to the surface. "Yes, sir."
Kirk nodded, giving a pleased smile, then he stood and walked over to the pile of clothes Spock had discarded. He picked them up and headed for the door.
Spock's heart pounded in her side. "Captain--"
He threw the clothes out into the hall, letting the door shut after them, and folded his arms, looking expectantly at Spock. "You've done your duty, Commander. You're dismissed."
Spock was frozen in place, staring at the door and intensely aware of her naked breasts and the cum drying on her face. "Captain--"
"Dismissed." He repeated sternly.
"Jim," her voice broke and her shoulders shook.
He reached for the comm panel. "Security--"
She rose abruptly, folding her arms over her chest and hanging her head. She walked until she was at his side, took one look at his cold, mocking eyes, then clenched her hands around her elbows and walked out the door.
The hall lights shined too brightly, making her feel all the more exposed. She looked each way down the hall, and sure enough, two young ensigns stopped in their tracks to her left, staring and gaping openly.
"Co--Commander Spock," one of them stuttered, his face flushing.
Spock picked up her dress and hurriedly pulled it over her head. Difficult, since her hands were shaking even more violently than the rest of her body. She picked up her bra and her boots, and with her gaze firmly on the ground, she pushed past the ensigns and sprinted for her quarters. Thankfully, it was on the same floor, so she wouldn't have to brave the turbolift.
She reached her destination without another person seeing her, but she knew the security feed must have captured her leaving the captain's quarters in such a shameful state. Soon everyone would know. The door to her quarters closed behind her and she crumpled to the floor, holding her sticky face in her hands. She needed to meditate, but her mind was in such disarray that she knew she wouldn't be able to muster the necessary concentration.
"Spock?" Nyota's voice emitted from the comm panel.
Spock tensed at the sound, her first thought being that Nyota must have found out, but she didn't sound angry or distressed.
"Spock, are you there?"
She probably just wanted to talk. The wisest thing to do was tell Nyota about her arrangement with the captain before she heard about it from someone else. Spock looked up at the comm panel, reaching for it with the intent of asking Nyota to speak with her in private. But when she opened her mouth to speak, her breath hitched and she felt like the only sound she would be able to produce would be sobbing. She dropped her arm limply and looked down at the rumpled uniform she wore.
She had thought Starfleet would be her salvation. It was there that she'd finally found the respect and acceptance that had never been offered to her on Vulcan. It was there that she found love with Nyota. It had felt like a family.
But now she could see: that was just her being naive again.
AN: Not really sure if I got the details of Vulcan telepathy right. Oh well.
- The Captain's Prerogative