Star Trek Porn! In Threes!
Title: A Cup of Sugar, Baby
Author: baehj2915
Pairing: K/S, bottom!Spock
Rating: NC-17, straight up sex, yo.
Disclaimer: Know nothing, own nothing, I don’t mean anything by this, etc., etc. ST XI.
Summary/Warnings: Testing Spock's limits. With food. Jim likes the novelty. This is a feeder/eater kink.
Jim felt his stomach grow warm and his balls twitch a little at what Spock might be saying.
“You want to do what?”
It had taken weeks of prompting and reassuring that a big change in sex acts was not at all a cue that Jim was no longer infatuated with Spock. So this was surprising.
It took Spock further conscious effort to remain a slow, consistent pace of oxygen flow into his lungs. Jim was biting his lower lip in anticipation. If he remained calm, not thinking a great deal about Jim’s round and voluptuous lips, he could negotiate Jim into taking an aggressive position.
“I should, perhaps, explain.” Spock’s eyes were almost glinting mischievous. “Admiral Pike, when I began to teach my first courses at the Academy, took an interest in adding a sexual element to our relationship. I had not experienced intercourse with a Human male and it was logical to pair the action with a mature, practiced person whom I could trust. He efficiently educated me in many different types of Human sexual behavior.”
Jim didn’t know if he should be angry with the Admiral or send him a thank you note and an advance of credits to his account.
Spock remembered the current Admiral fondly. Indeed, Christopher had gone to great lengths to provide Spock with a rounded tour of Human sexual experiences. He was a great educator. Spock was eager to engage in some of the activities he’d done before with his beloved Jim.
“One occasion during the winter holidays struck me as something I would need to duplicate in order to properly assess my thoughts about it.”
Jim chomped at the pause. Again, hearing or not hearing? They were lying in bed, mostly clothed, both awaiting a satisfying roll around the Captain’s official bed. Hearing about another Captain who’d beaten him to the punch could really turn Jim off. Or on. But Jim was usually for rolling the dice.
“Yes?”
“He restrained my limbs to the bed posts-“
“Incredible start to any story.”
Spock quirked an eyebrow, slightly hidden by the pillow he was on.
“I apologize. Please, tell me all about our former commanding officer doing terrible things to your beautiful olive skin.”
Not acknowledging the sarcasm, but storing the compliment about his skin in the back of his mind, Spock went on.
“After restraining me, he prepared me for penetration and stimulated me, but inserted some sort of stopper into my anus. And a tight elastic band around the base of my phallus.”
“That’s called a butt plug. And a cock ring.”
Spock’s upper lip curled slightly in derision. Most of the names for sexual devices or positions in the Standard slang lexicon were far too blunt or nonsensical.
“Accurate, but highly distasteful. Regardless, it was a very taxing portion of the event, to be so thoroughly inhibited. Then he compelled me to eat large quantities of confections. He informed me that was what he desired beforehand, but during it acted as if he had not. He told me he would refuse to initiate coitus until I ate what he deemed necessary. It was an arduous exertion of my body, but more stimulating than I had thought possible.”
Jim was a little stunned. First of all, ‘cause, Pike, that dog. Secondly ‘cause “more stimulating than I had thought possible” wasn’t a statement of exaggeration for Spock. He could’ve expected nothing.
“I think was easier for him to continue with the undue exertion of various pressures because a number of the confections contained chocolate. It sufficiently clouded my judgment to… aid my willingness and enjoyment, I believe.”
Stuffing. Stuff up his hole and his mouth, Jim thought. He thought of chocolate spilling out of Spock’s lips. A thump beat in his loins told him he could try it.
“And then he fucked you?”
Spock hesitated when the words fell from Jim’s lips, sharp and heated. Jim’s eyes were staring intently at Spock, as they lay facing each other. The heat between them was rising, the air becoming heavy with saturation.
“He only provided me intercourse and release after my stomach was,” Spock paused to lick his lips at the sound of the next word, both clinical and alluring, “distended with food. He told he wanted to see me over stimulated and my cognitive capacity diminished by these sensations.”
Jim was wondering if the exact words were “I’m gonna fill you up and fuck you stupid.” Cause those were the words being mulled over in his mind. He was stroking the words over and over in his hand. Thick and hot and fleshy, they were becoming real to Jim. And the food itself didn’t even seem that important. It was a tool to make Spock needy and desperate and in dangerous risk of losing his composure. He had a sneaking suspicion that Spock was asking for just that. Wanting to beg and moan and be pushed and be stuffed beyond capacity with a desperately Human kink.
Oh fuck, Jim was gonna do this.
“Why the sugar?” he asked breathily.
Spock finally extended a warm hand, sweeping it over Jim’s side, under his shirt. He could feel Jim’s heart thrumming fast under his ribcage.
“My body breaks down glucose compounds with alacrity. Proteins or carbohydrates would not work in the same capacity… if you desire to fill me.”
Jim was pretty sure that never in the history of the language had “glucose compounds” sounded sexier.
“Spock,” Jim said heavily, leaning in to pull in Spock’s lips for a moment. “I’m gonna fill you up and fuck you stupid.”
Spock sucked in an almost loud breath. An electric tingled hand slid to the small of Jim’s back, bringing with it the lanky, overheated body of the Vulcan attached. Spock’s internal body temperature was rising uncomfortably high, but Jim’s assertions of possession were arousing. Encouraging his eagerness for physical satisfaction with the use of Spock’s body was temptation. Made him eager in turn.
He whispered, “Do you have the necessary equipment?”
“Oh, I’ve got the equipment,” he said, thrusting his bulge against Spock’s stomach, unable to resist an innuendo so carefully delivered to him. Spock looked at him blankly, with suspended lust. Jim added, “Yeah, in the closet,” and ran off the bed to get the supplies.
This was their first major foray into kink. Jim had done a plethora of cuffing, tying, spanking, licking, scratching, blindfolding, and inserting various foods and inanimate objects in people’s various places before. Before Spock, before Jim assumed the mantle of adulthood that was trying not to embarrass Starfleet. And, of course, he himself took alien kink to a new level. But that was before Spock, The One, the t’hy’la, the perfect compliment to him came along.
It never meant Jim should stop using his old toys altogether. Spock never doubted that Jim would retain this attitude.
He pulled the needful toys out of the box and gave them a sonic scrub, just for any possible dust. By the time he got back, Spock was already naked, sitting on the bed, getting himself hard.
He was definitely begging wantonness.
Jim walked over and slid Spock’s thighs around his hips, grabbing some bridge confidence. After all, Spock said he’d have to play the part of coercing Spock into more food than he could eat. But frankly Spock’s eagerness was gonna make this relatively easy. Spock was already unbuttoning Jim’s pants, slipping his fingers in through the fly, rubbing his cock to life.
“Pick a word now…” Jim shuddered, blood rushing southward. “In case you get sick.”
Spock’s electric warm fingers were kneading-kissing his balls, when he said, “Iowa.”
Jim laughed, kissed Spock’s temple and picked up two restraints. “Tie up your legs. I’ve got to replicate candy.”
Jim whipped up as much diverse candy and chocolate things as he could think of. No nuts, of course. Feeding Spock into a food/sex coma didn’t need to be accompanied by one of Jim’s exciting allergy meltdowns. That was the last thing he needed Bones to walk in on. Jim selected chewy licorice, soft caramels, peppermint patties, salt water taffies, chucks of chocolate, crispy chocolate bars, gummy fruit slices, cotton candy, marshmallows, fudge brownies, cherry glaze, and a big old fashioned squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup.
Jim looked at the pile of sugar, wondering how long it would take to turn Spock into a groaning, sticky mess.
He tossed his loot onto the bed near Spock. He was lying on his back, slowly stroking his erection while he waited. Jim tugged on the straps around his ankles. Of course they were perfect. He pulled off his shirt and pulled down his pants just to the tops of his thighs, miming Spock’s actions for a moment.
“Spock.”
Spock knew all the tones and tempos of Jim’s voice. He knew when his name, just a short, simple sound, was said with urgency, question, need, authority, desire or all of those things combined. He knew when to look up or ignore coyly or rush forward to it. Feeling as he did that moment, his entire musculature from his throat to his thighs burning and tightening, he could not but obey all those heeded emotions. This effect on his body was something that only Jim could do. And why he wanted the experience of Jim’s controlled abuse of it.
He leaned up on his elbows, seeing Jim touch himself over Spock’s stretched legs. He rolled his thumb and fingers over his penis, contracting and squeezing with his palm. The action lightly contracted the tendons and muscles of Jim’s forearm and bicep.
Spock wanted that controlled force working at him, in him, all around his nerves.
Jim climbed over Spock with a tantalizing smirk. He knew what Spock found most irresistible about his body, when Spock paid attention to that sort of thing, that is, was his lips. Spock loved his smirks, pouts, grins, sighs, frowns, smiles, yawns and gasps. Jim employed this knowledge by kissing and gnawing along Spock’s jaw in a lazy, sloppy open-mouthed way. He was panting wet air against Spock’s skin. Spock pulled him in by the neck to catch those lips, but Jim pulled away with a grin and tied Spock’s arm to the slats of the headboard.
The same trick worked for Spock’s other arm.
Jim slid down Spock’s torso, working wet open mouthing along the way. Spock used his little leeway to crane his neck to see Jim’s mouth.
Jim caught Spock’s gaze with a roguish wink, licked his lips calculatedly, and then put them firmly, in a wide gulp, around Spock’s penis. Spock’s hips twitched up as Jim’s soft tongue slurped and pushed against the pressure building from within. Jim slid his mouth up and down Spock’s cock only a few times, not even building momentum, before he stopped sucking and sat back up. For a moment the absence of Jim’s mouth made the air freezing cold on his saliva-wet phallus. Then Jim snugged the cock ring around it.
The heat of frustration shot up to Spock’s cheek with speed.
Jim lubed up his fingers to stretch Spock out for the plug. When he worked his way inside of Spock, Jim rubbed the curve of his prostate in small circles. His cock grew greener and he thrust upward against nothing with thick, short sighs. When Jim grabbed his pelvic bone and pushed it down flat, Spock let out a low throaty moan that sounded like a growl.
Jim smiled. It was nice to turn the tables every once in a while. Not all the time, but most of the time, Jim spent a considerable amount of his not meager seductive prowess urging Spock to just speed it the fuck up a little. To touch less, to fuck more. Less fingers and more dick, please. To throw his Vulcan cock inside Jim just as deep and fast as it could Vulcanly go because Jim was young and flexible and strong and resilient and wouldn’t break.
It was nice to see Spock’s throat strain against the pressure of slow burn. Nice to see his chest tinged green, starting to heave up and down.
Jim pushed in the butt plug against Spock’s anxious bucking.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you, but you’re gonna have to wait a while, beautiful.”
Spock’s jaw twitched.
Jim got up to wipe off his hands and consider the best way to go about this.
Spock’s stomach churned in anticipation. He didn’t often give way to the sickly sweetness of Terran sugar foods and chocolate, even less. He was awaiting the heady dizziness, the nauseating pressure of the food as it filled his stomach. The pressure of the stopper in his anus and the restricted blood flow in his phallus was already twisting his muscles and baiting his breath. He looked over to see Jim obscenely drop his pants in front of Spock. Spock felt a shiver up his spine.
Jim walked back to the bed and flopped on Spock carelessly. He rested his stomach over Spock’s throbbing, restrained cock. He leaned over Spock with a taunting smile. Without conscious effort, Spock’s thighs attempted to tighten at Jim’s waist between them, but his feet were pulled too far away.
“Open wide,” Jim said, unwrapping a taffy and putting it in Spock’s mouth.
It was chewy and sticky and sweet. Jim smiled when he swallowed it.
It didn’t take long before Spock, if making his own decisions, would’ve stopped. Obviously, that was beyond the point. But Jim had put enough chocolate in his mouth to make him hot and giddy and dizzy. And he enjoyed catching Jim’s fingers in his mouth every time he put something there, catching hints of Jim’s smug excitement. Spock was producing excessive saliva, creating a well of sugar and spit. Jim would lean in and lick the insides of his mouth and teeth in forceful open mouth kisses.
Jim pushed under Spock’s thighs with his knees, pressing his hips firmly against Spock’s and pushing down, but not thrusting. Spock clenched uncomfortably around the silicone. Jim breathed out heavily, feeling his belly push against Spock’s concave one.
“Tell me what you’re hungry for, sweetheart.”
“You,” Spock said, ducking after Jim’s neck.
“You know how you love me panting for you?”
Spock nodded, tasting the salt on Jim’s skin. Jim picked up a thumb-sized piece of chocolate and rocked it in Spock’s mouth as he sucked and chewed. Jim put his lips on Spock’s neck, feeling the throat constrict and tendons shift.
Jim lifted his lips to Spock’s ear and whispered, “That’s where you’re gonna be. Panting and crying and wanting me in you. You want me? You can’t have me until you’re full, you’re bursting with candy. I want you sick with candy.”
The Vulcan shuddered when Jim licked the tip of his ear to its rounded point. At the same time Jim slid a soft, chewy unwatched handful of caramels into Spock’s mouth. His cheeks ballooned with the sweetness as he struggled to keep it all in his mouth.
“Every last bite,” he said, watching close guard of Spock’s full mouth.
Jim peered in the chewing orifice watching the caramels soften and be swallowed, little by little, not letting a sticky drop come out of his lips. Without waiting for his mouth to empty, Jim pushed in several disks of peppermint patties. When they melted in the heat of the Vulcan’s mouth, Jim ran his fingers over the lips and dipped them inside. Spock immediately stopped to suck them. Jim’s fingers being his second favorite part of Jim’s body. Spock’s hips began to buck up against the weight exerted on them.
“What’s the point of that?” Jim laughed cruelly. “You can’t get anything in me or in you until you’re done.”
Jim proceeded to slowly put in his mouth, one at a time, a few more caramels, twelve gummy fruit slices, two brownies and the whole bag of cotton candy, which pinched into fine sticky threads when Spock’s saliva met Jim’s fingers. All without complaint or stop, even though his eyes looked pained and he struggled against his restraints to ease the tension in his body. His hips never stopped their gentle pleading for release.
When Jim tried to force in a chunk of chocolate between his teeth, Spock finally turned his head in dissent. He let out a deep, nasal groan and tried to push his face into his outstretched arm. Jim put a hand over the groaning stomach and just pushed ever so slightly with his palm.
“No,” Spock said, in an almost petulant, but definitely thick, chocolate-drunk sort of way.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Spock moaned, arching his hips and neck up for exposure. Jim’s cock leapt at the willful whine.
Jim pushed the chocolate against Spock’s now more giving lips and said, “Then suck this like you would me.”
The rectangle of chocolate gave into Spock’s mouth. After it disappeared there was a considerable melt on Spock’s lips. Jim licked them clean, causing a stressed pull on restraints tied in the slats of the headboard. They knew from experience the tensile strength of Enterprise bed railing was no match for an aroused Vulcan. Jim pushed on Spock’s shoulders until they were flat against the bed again.
“I’m going to see you full and stretched and panting, Spock,” he said, squeezing Spock’s jaw open.
Jim, not carefully, poured the thick cherry glaze in his mouth. It spilled out when his tongue undulated and it took all Jim’s strength not to let his own mouth crash against Spock’s and tongue the sweet liquid off his face.
Then Jim sat up a little and climbed over Spock’s hips to sit above them, low on the Vulcan’s abdomen. This elicited a heavy, pained groan. Spock whispered a sharp, “Jim.”
Jim took his time with the rest. The mouth expanding marshmallows, the sticky taffies, the remaining pieces of chocolate, and stringy licorice. Jim hadn’t counted it all, and knew that Spock was too needy and filled to know how much either. But it was a whole fucking lot, Jim was impressed in a way. Every other handful of candy, Spock had tried to turn away from, tried to rebel, but not after Jim prodded, with either a promise of the fuck that was to come or a pressured hand somewhere soft. Or somewhere hard.
When Jim rolled off Spock’s belly, he gasped in relief. Jim could see Spock’s lower abdomen was distended. Jim placed a soft hand over the small bump, feeling a definite pressure. Despite his limited movements and dizziness, Spock tried to move away from the touch.
Jim wondered how much more he could feed Spock without it resulting in vomit on his bed.
Spock laid there in discomfort, feeling Jim leave the bed. Spock moaned. He’d never felt so filled. His mouth was tired and his face uncomfortably sticky. His penis was leaking in pain for contact, jumping at every brush of Jim’s abdomen or thigh. His stomach was full and tensing with gaseous pressure building inside. He felt sick from the high amounts of sugar. And the effects of the chocolate were making his muscles weak and tired. Yet all he desired was penetration. To have Jim go deep inside him and remove this terrible tension.
He shuddered again when Jim’s weight added to the mattress. His back tired from the strain, Spock sighed.
Jim brought back a bowl of ice cream. Strawberry, his favorite. He was beside Spock, who was looking longingly at his cock.
“My fingers are sticky,” Jim said sweetly and slurped at his own fingers in front of Spock. Spock let out a loud, wanting moan at the sight.
Jim laughed throatily and grabbed the bowl of ice cream. He fed it to Spock fast, not giving him time to resist the shockingly cold material. It melted fast in Spock’s mouth and went down his throat thickly.
When the bowl was empty, Spock was panting for air, for release from any of his bonds.
Jim softly massaged the distended abdomen, palming lightly against the pressure. Each time he did, Spock’s eyes blurred a little. Jim held up a bottle of chocolate syrup over Spock’s face.
“No,” Spock said desperately, “no, Jim. Please.”
“Tell me you’re hungry.”
“No… I… Please, Jim.”
“Please what?”
“Please, touch me. I need you.”
“Tell me your hungry or I won’t touch you. I won’t release you at all.”
“Please, Jim, I’m hungry. Please.”
Jim grinned and pulled the top open and started squeezing the thick syrup into Spock’s mouth. He gulped and gasped, not able to stop it from spilling over his lips and down his cheek and neck.
“Suck it down, Spock. From the bottle.”
Spock did his best to obey the command, but it still spilled over his lips. Jim was rubbing his stomach. The distended area groaned and grew. Spock’s head felt fuzzy and insulating from the chocolate filling his mouth.
When the bottle was squeezed mostly empty, Jim pulled it away and threw it across the room. Jim crashed down on him, kissing him violently, their teeth hitting in Jim’s fury to taste the inside of his mouth. Jim was moaning into him and Spock knew he was making the same needy, pained sounds back into Jim.
The whole room tilted when Jim moved.
Jim scrambled between Spock’s open legs, not bothering to wipe off any chocolate from his face. He pulled out the butt plug unceremoniously, which caused Spock to let out a tortured half-word, and then pant in relieved, hot breaths. He put his cock flush against Spock’s hole and hastily added some lube. He plunged in the stretched orifice pretty easily and nearly cried at the warmth gathering around him.
Jim draped himself over Spock, who whimpered at the pressure on his stomach. Jim hooked his hand under Spock’s shoulder and drilled into him all that could give. Spock was panting and moaning, considerably more vocal than any time he hadn’t been filled up with chocolate. The weight of Jim on top of Spock was both a relieving cool and indiscernible pain of pressure. And the thrusting of Jim’s turgid organ could not be hotter, could not be deeper. Spock tried ineffectually to raise his legs, hook them around Jim. The restraints wouldn’t give.
“What do you need?” Jim said, panting.
“You. I need you,” Spock hissed, opening his mouth to Jim’s searching tongue.
Spock was starting to become nauseous from the motion and pushing on his abdomen. Yet being tired and full and wanting, without inhibitions was painful and exciting. But the realm of sensation was a smaller and smaller world, soon becoming only his own painful erection and the size and force of Jim inside of him. His legs and arms melted off to the side. He was only vaguely aware of the tightness in his stomach, the gaseous bubbling inside, and the looseness and dizziness in his head.
Seeing Spock full and wanton proved too much for Jim. He came startlingly soon. He rode out the erection with slow thrusts into Spock’s nerve-wracked body. Jim pulled at the cock ring. Spock gasped at the release and let out an extended, pained moan.
Jim tiredly began unstrapping Spock from the nylon restraints. Spock groaned with each movement, his eyes closed and his face slightly pained. He was about to fall asleep. Jim recognized that level of drunk, even if this time it was chocolate-drunk on an overwhelmed Vulcan.
After pulling the last strap off Spock’s wrist, Jim leaned into his ear and whispered, “Wanna get cleaned up, baby?”
He knew Spock would be angry in the morning about being covered in saliva-melted sugar, even if he really wanted to sleep at the moment. Spock just groaned and pushed his face into a pillow. Jim cleaned him up, while Spock drifted off into whatever realm of unconscious shame drunken Vulcans lived in.
In the morning, Jim was wonderfully cheerful.
“Good morning, star shine,” Jim said annoyingly as Spock slowly opened his wincing eyes. “So when do you wanna do that again?”
“Ungh.”
“C’mon! Tell me you didn’t love that, you kinky bitch. God, it’s like banging a mormon sometimes. What shames you the most turns you on the most. Except with you it’s weird things that make you show emotion. I bet-“
“If you stop talking this instance, I’ll do it next month.”
Jim Kirk grinned, but didn’t say anything. A month was pretty long, but like everything about Spock, the build up was worth the wait.
:D :D ;D
JLB
Author: baehj2915
Pairing: K/S, bottom!Spock
Rating: NC-17, straight up sex, yo.
Disclaimer: Know nothing, own nothing, I don’t mean anything by this, etc., etc. ST XI.
Summary/Warnings: Testing Spock's limits. With food. Jim likes the novelty. This is a feeder/eater kink.
Jim felt his stomach grow warm and his balls twitch a little at what Spock might be saying.
“You want to do what?”
It had taken weeks of prompting and reassuring that a big change in sex acts was not at all a cue that Jim was no longer infatuated with Spock. So this was surprising.
It took Spock further conscious effort to remain a slow, consistent pace of oxygen flow into his lungs. Jim was biting his lower lip in anticipation. If he remained calm, not thinking a great deal about Jim’s round and voluptuous lips, he could negotiate Jim into taking an aggressive position.
“I should, perhaps, explain.” Spock’s eyes were almost glinting mischievous. “Admiral Pike, when I began to teach my first courses at the Academy, took an interest in adding a sexual element to our relationship. I had not experienced intercourse with a Human male and it was logical to pair the action with a mature, practiced person whom I could trust. He efficiently educated me in many different types of Human sexual behavior.”
Jim didn’t know if he should be angry with the Admiral or send him a thank you note and an advance of credits to his account.
Spock remembered the current Admiral fondly. Indeed, Christopher had gone to great lengths to provide Spock with a rounded tour of Human sexual experiences. He was a great educator. Spock was eager to engage in some of the activities he’d done before with his beloved Jim.
“One occasion during the winter holidays struck me as something I would need to duplicate in order to properly assess my thoughts about it.”
Jim chomped at the pause. Again, hearing or not hearing? They were lying in bed, mostly clothed, both awaiting a satisfying roll around the Captain’s official bed. Hearing about another Captain who’d beaten him to the punch could really turn Jim off. Or on. But Jim was usually for rolling the dice.
“Yes?”
“He restrained my limbs to the bed posts-“
“Incredible start to any story.”
Spock quirked an eyebrow, slightly hidden by the pillow he was on.
“I apologize. Please, tell me all about our former commanding officer doing terrible things to your beautiful olive skin.”
Not acknowledging the sarcasm, but storing the compliment about his skin in the back of his mind, Spock went on.
“After restraining me, he prepared me for penetration and stimulated me, but inserted some sort of stopper into my anus. And a tight elastic band around the base of my phallus.”
“That’s called a butt plug. And a cock ring.”
Spock’s upper lip curled slightly in derision. Most of the names for sexual devices or positions in the Standard slang lexicon were far too blunt or nonsensical.
“Accurate, but highly distasteful. Regardless, it was a very taxing portion of the event, to be so thoroughly inhibited. Then he compelled me to eat large quantities of confections. He informed me that was what he desired beforehand, but during it acted as if he had not. He told me he would refuse to initiate coitus until I ate what he deemed necessary. It was an arduous exertion of my body, but more stimulating than I had thought possible.”
Jim was a little stunned. First of all, ‘cause, Pike, that dog. Secondly ‘cause “more stimulating than I had thought possible” wasn’t a statement of exaggeration for Spock. He could’ve expected nothing.
“I think was easier for him to continue with the undue exertion of various pressures because a number of the confections contained chocolate. It sufficiently clouded my judgment to… aid my willingness and enjoyment, I believe.”
Stuffing. Stuff up his hole and his mouth, Jim thought. He thought of chocolate spilling out of Spock’s lips. A thump beat in his loins told him he could try it.
“And then he fucked you?”
Spock hesitated when the words fell from Jim’s lips, sharp and heated. Jim’s eyes were staring intently at Spock, as they lay facing each other. The heat between them was rising, the air becoming heavy with saturation.
“He only provided me intercourse and release after my stomach was,” Spock paused to lick his lips at the sound of the next word, both clinical and alluring, “distended with food. He told he wanted to see me over stimulated and my cognitive capacity diminished by these sensations.”
Jim was wondering if the exact words were “I’m gonna fill you up and fuck you stupid.” Cause those were the words being mulled over in his mind. He was stroking the words over and over in his hand. Thick and hot and fleshy, they were becoming real to Jim. And the food itself didn’t even seem that important. It was a tool to make Spock needy and desperate and in dangerous risk of losing his composure. He had a sneaking suspicion that Spock was asking for just that. Wanting to beg and moan and be pushed and be stuffed beyond capacity with a desperately Human kink.
Oh fuck, Jim was gonna do this.
“Why the sugar?” he asked breathily.
Spock finally extended a warm hand, sweeping it over Jim’s side, under his shirt. He could feel Jim’s heart thrumming fast under his ribcage.
“My body breaks down glucose compounds with alacrity. Proteins or carbohydrates would not work in the same capacity… if you desire to fill me.”
Jim was pretty sure that never in the history of the language had “glucose compounds” sounded sexier.
“Spock,” Jim said heavily, leaning in to pull in Spock’s lips for a moment. “I’m gonna fill you up and fuck you stupid.”
Spock sucked in an almost loud breath. An electric tingled hand slid to the small of Jim’s back, bringing with it the lanky, overheated body of the Vulcan attached. Spock’s internal body temperature was rising uncomfortably high, but Jim’s assertions of possession were arousing. Encouraging his eagerness for physical satisfaction with the use of Spock’s body was temptation. Made him eager in turn.
He whispered, “Do you have the necessary equipment?”
“Oh, I’ve got the equipment,” he said, thrusting his bulge against Spock’s stomach, unable to resist an innuendo so carefully delivered to him. Spock looked at him blankly, with suspended lust. Jim added, “Yeah, in the closet,” and ran off the bed to get the supplies.
This was their first major foray into kink. Jim had done a plethora of cuffing, tying, spanking, licking, scratching, blindfolding, and inserting various foods and inanimate objects in people’s various places before. Before Spock, before Jim assumed the mantle of adulthood that was trying not to embarrass Starfleet. And, of course, he himself took alien kink to a new level. But that was before Spock, The One, the t’hy’la, the perfect compliment to him came along.
It never meant Jim should stop using his old toys altogether. Spock never doubted that Jim would retain this attitude.
He pulled the needful toys out of the box and gave them a sonic scrub, just for any possible dust. By the time he got back, Spock was already naked, sitting on the bed, getting himself hard.
He was definitely begging wantonness.
Jim walked over and slid Spock’s thighs around his hips, grabbing some bridge confidence. After all, Spock said he’d have to play the part of coercing Spock into more food than he could eat. But frankly Spock’s eagerness was gonna make this relatively easy. Spock was already unbuttoning Jim’s pants, slipping his fingers in through the fly, rubbing his cock to life.
“Pick a word now…” Jim shuddered, blood rushing southward. “In case you get sick.”
Spock’s electric warm fingers were kneading-kissing his balls, when he said, “Iowa.”
Jim laughed, kissed Spock’s temple and picked up two restraints. “Tie up your legs. I’ve got to replicate candy.”
Jim whipped up as much diverse candy and chocolate things as he could think of. No nuts, of course. Feeding Spock into a food/sex coma didn’t need to be accompanied by one of Jim’s exciting allergy meltdowns. That was the last thing he needed Bones to walk in on. Jim selected chewy licorice, soft caramels, peppermint patties, salt water taffies, chucks of chocolate, crispy chocolate bars, gummy fruit slices, cotton candy, marshmallows, fudge brownies, cherry glaze, and a big old fashioned squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup.
Jim looked at the pile of sugar, wondering how long it would take to turn Spock into a groaning, sticky mess.
He tossed his loot onto the bed near Spock. He was lying on his back, slowly stroking his erection while he waited. Jim tugged on the straps around his ankles. Of course they were perfect. He pulled off his shirt and pulled down his pants just to the tops of his thighs, miming Spock’s actions for a moment.
“Spock.”
Spock knew all the tones and tempos of Jim’s voice. He knew when his name, just a short, simple sound, was said with urgency, question, need, authority, desire or all of those things combined. He knew when to look up or ignore coyly or rush forward to it. Feeling as he did that moment, his entire musculature from his throat to his thighs burning and tightening, he could not but obey all those heeded emotions. This effect on his body was something that only Jim could do. And why he wanted the experience of Jim’s controlled abuse of it.
He leaned up on his elbows, seeing Jim touch himself over Spock’s stretched legs. He rolled his thumb and fingers over his penis, contracting and squeezing with his palm. The action lightly contracted the tendons and muscles of Jim’s forearm and bicep.
Spock wanted that controlled force working at him, in him, all around his nerves.
Jim climbed over Spock with a tantalizing smirk. He knew what Spock found most irresistible about his body, when Spock paid attention to that sort of thing, that is, was his lips. Spock loved his smirks, pouts, grins, sighs, frowns, smiles, yawns and gasps. Jim employed this knowledge by kissing and gnawing along Spock’s jaw in a lazy, sloppy open-mouthed way. He was panting wet air against Spock’s skin. Spock pulled him in by the neck to catch those lips, but Jim pulled away with a grin and tied Spock’s arm to the slats of the headboard.
The same trick worked for Spock’s other arm.
Jim slid down Spock’s torso, working wet open mouthing along the way. Spock used his little leeway to crane his neck to see Jim’s mouth.
Jim caught Spock’s gaze with a roguish wink, licked his lips calculatedly, and then put them firmly, in a wide gulp, around Spock’s penis. Spock’s hips twitched up as Jim’s soft tongue slurped and pushed against the pressure building from within. Jim slid his mouth up and down Spock’s cock only a few times, not even building momentum, before he stopped sucking and sat back up. For a moment the absence of Jim’s mouth made the air freezing cold on his saliva-wet phallus. Then Jim snugged the cock ring around it.
The heat of frustration shot up to Spock’s cheek with speed.
Jim lubed up his fingers to stretch Spock out for the plug. When he worked his way inside of Spock, Jim rubbed the curve of his prostate in small circles. His cock grew greener and he thrust upward against nothing with thick, short sighs. When Jim grabbed his pelvic bone and pushed it down flat, Spock let out a low throaty moan that sounded like a growl.
Jim smiled. It was nice to turn the tables every once in a while. Not all the time, but most of the time, Jim spent a considerable amount of his not meager seductive prowess urging Spock to just speed it the fuck up a little. To touch less, to fuck more. Less fingers and more dick, please. To throw his Vulcan cock inside Jim just as deep and fast as it could Vulcanly go because Jim was young and flexible and strong and resilient and wouldn’t break.
It was nice to see Spock’s throat strain against the pressure of slow burn. Nice to see his chest tinged green, starting to heave up and down.
Jim pushed in the butt plug against Spock’s anxious bucking.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you, but you’re gonna have to wait a while, beautiful.”
Spock’s jaw twitched.
Jim got up to wipe off his hands and consider the best way to go about this.
Spock’s stomach churned in anticipation. He didn’t often give way to the sickly sweetness of Terran sugar foods and chocolate, even less. He was awaiting the heady dizziness, the nauseating pressure of the food as it filled his stomach. The pressure of the stopper in his anus and the restricted blood flow in his phallus was already twisting his muscles and baiting his breath. He looked over to see Jim obscenely drop his pants in front of Spock. Spock felt a shiver up his spine.
Jim walked back to the bed and flopped on Spock carelessly. He rested his stomach over Spock’s throbbing, restrained cock. He leaned over Spock with a taunting smile. Without conscious effort, Spock’s thighs attempted to tighten at Jim’s waist between them, but his feet were pulled too far away.
“Open wide,” Jim said, unwrapping a taffy and putting it in Spock’s mouth.
It was chewy and sticky and sweet. Jim smiled when he swallowed it.
It didn’t take long before Spock, if making his own decisions, would’ve stopped. Obviously, that was beyond the point. But Jim had put enough chocolate in his mouth to make him hot and giddy and dizzy. And he enjoyed catching Jim’s fingers in his mouth every time he put something there, catching hints of Jim’s smug excitement. Spock was producing excessive saliva, creating a well of sugar and spit. Jim would lean in and lick the insides of his mouth and teeth in forceful open mouth kisses.
Jim pushed under Spock’s thighs with his knees, pressing his hips firmly against Spock’s and pushing down, but not thrusting. Spock clenched uncomfortably around the silicone. Jim breathed out heavily, feeling his belly push against Spock’s concave one.
“Tell me what you’re hungry for, sweetheart.”
“You,” Spock said, ducking after Jim’s neck.
“You know how you love me panting for you?”
Spock nodded, tasting the salt on Jim’s skin. Jim picked up a thumb-sized piece of chocolate and rocked it in Spock’s mouth as he sucked and chewed. Jim put his lips on Spock’s neck, feeling the throat constrict and tendons shift.
Jim lifted his lips to Spock’s ear and whispered, “That’s where you’re gonna be. Panting and crying and wanting me in you. You want me? You can’t have me until you’re full, you’re bursting with candy. I want you sick with candy.”
The Vulcan shuddered when Jim licked the tip of his ear to its rounded point. At the same time Jim slid a soft, chewy unwatched handful of caramels into Spock’s mouth. His cheeks ballooned with the sweetness as he struggled to keep it all in his mouth.
“Every last bite,” he said, watching close guard of Spock’s full mouth.
Jim peered in the chewing orifice watching the caramels soften and be swallowed, little by little, not letting a sticky drop come out of his lips. Without waiting for his mouth to empty, Jim pushed in several disks of peppermint patties. When they melted in the heat of the Vulcan’s mouth, Jim ran his fingers over the lips and dipped them inside. Spock immediately stopped to suck them. Jim’s fingers being his second favorite part of Jim’s body. Spock’s hips began to buck up against the weight exerted on them.
“What’s the point of that?” Jim laughed cruelly. “You can’t get anything in me or in you until you’re done.”
Jim proceeded to slowly put in his mouth, one at a time, a few more caramels, twelve gummy fruit slices, two brownies and the whole bag of cotton candy, which pinched into fine sticky threads when Spock’s saliva met Jim’s fingers. All without complaint or stop, even though his eyes looked pained and he struggled against his restraints to ease the tension in his body. His hips never stopped their gentle pleading for release.
When Jim tried to force in a chunk of chocolate between his teeth, Spock finally turned his head in dissent. He let out a deep, nasal groan and tried to push his face into his outstretched arm. Jim put a hand over the groaning stomach and just pushed ever so slightly with his palm.
“No,” Spock said, in an almost petulant, but definitely thick, chocolate-drunk sort of way.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Spock moaned, arching his hips and neck up for exposure. Jim’s cock leapt at the willful whine.
Jim pushed the chocolate against Spock’s now more giving lips and said, “Then suck this like you would me.”
The rectangle of chocolate gave into Spock’s mouth. After it disappeared there was a considerable melt on Spock’s lips. Jim licked them clean, causing a stressed pull on restraints tied in the slats of the headboard. They knew from experience the tensile strength of Enterprise bed railing was no match for an aroused Vulcan. Jim pushed on Spock’s shoulders until they were flat against the bed again.
“I’m going to see you full and stretched and panting, Spock,” he said, squeezing Spock’s jaw open.
Jim, not carefully, poured the thick cherry glaze in his mouth. It spilled out when his tongue undulated and it took all Jim’s strength not to let his own mouth crash against Spock’s and tongue the sweet liquid off his face.
Then Jim sat up a little and climbed over Spock’s hips to sit above them, low on the Vulcan’s abdomen. This elicited a heavy, pained groan. Spock whispered a sharp, “Jim.”
Jim took his time with the rest. The mouth expanding marshmallows, the sticky taffies, the remaining pieces of chocolate, and stringy licorice. Jim hadn’t counted it all, and knew that Spock was too needy and filled to know how much either. But it was a whole fucking lot, Jim was impressed in a way. Every other handful of candy, Spock had tried to turn away from, tried to rebel, but not after Jim prodded, with either a promise of the fuck that was to come or a pressured hand somewhere soft. Or somewhere hard.
When Jim rolled off Spock’s belly, he gasped in relief. Jim could see Spock’s lower abdomen was distended. Jim placed a soft hand over the small bump, feeling a definite pressure. Despite his limited movements and dizziness, Spock tried to move away from the touch.
Jim wondered how much more he could feed Spock without it resulting in vomit on his bed.
Spock laid there in discomfort, feeling Jim leave the bed. Spock moaned. He’d never felt so filled. His mouth was tired and his face uncomfortably sticky. His penis was leaking in pain for contact, jumping at every brush of Jim’s abdomen or thigh. His stomach was full and tensing with gaseous pressure building inside. He felt sick from the high amounts of sugar. And the effects of the chocolate were making his muscles weak and tired. Yet all he desired was penetration. To have Jim go deep inside him and remove this terrible tension.
He shuddered again when Jim’s weight added to the mattress. His back tired from the strain, Spock sighed.
Jim brought back a bowl of ice cream. Strawberry, his favorite. He was beside Spock, who was looking longingly at his cock.
“My fingers are sticky,” Jim said sweetly and slurped at his own fingers in front of Spock. Spock let out a loud, wanting moan at the sight.
Jim laughed throatily and grabbed the bowl of ice cream. He fed it to Spock fast, not giving him time to resist the shockingly cold material. It melted fast in Spock’s mouth and went down his throat thickly.
When the bowl was empty, Spock was panting for air, for release from any of his bonds.
Jim softly massaged the distended abdomen, palming lightly against the pressure. Each time he did, Spock’s eyes blurred a little. Jim held up a bottle of chocolate syrup over Spock’s face.
“No,” Spock said desperately, “no, Jim. Please.”
“Tell me you’re hungry.”
“No… I… Please, Jim.”
“Please what?”
“Please, touch me. I need you.”
“Tell me your hungry or I won’t touch you. I won’t release you at all.”
“Please, Jim, I’m hungry. Please.”
Jim grinned and pulled the top open and started squeezing the thick syrup into Spock’s mouth. He gulped and gasped, not able to stop it from spilling over his lips and down his cheek and neck.
“Suck it down, Spock. From the bottle.”
Spock did his best to obey the command, but it still spilled over his lips. Jim was rubbing his stomach. The distended area groaned and grew. Spock’s head felt fuzzy and insulating from the chocolate filling his mouth.
When the bottle was squeezed mostly empty, Jim pulled it away and threw it across the room. Jim crashed down on him, kissing him violently, their teeth hitting in Jim’s fury to taste the inside of his mouth. Jim was moaning into him and Spock knew he was making the same needy, pained sounds back into Jim.
The whole room tilted when Jim moved.
Jim scrambled between Spock’s open legs, not bothering to wipe off any chocolate from his face. He pulled out the butt plug unceremoniously, which caused Spock to let out a tortured half-word, and then pant in relieved, hot breaths. He put his cock flush against Spock’s hole and hastily added some lube. He plunged in the stretched orifice pretty easily and nearly cried at the warmth gathering around him.
Jim draped himself over Spock, who whimpered at the pressure on his stomach. Jim hooked his hand under Spock’s shoulder and drilled into him all that could give. Spock was panting and moaning, considerably more vocal than any time he hadn’t been filled up with chocolate. The weight of Jim on top of Spock was both a relieving cool and indiscernible pain of pressure. And the thrusting of Jim’s turgid organ could not be hotter, could not be deeper. Spock tried ineffectually to raise his legs, hook them around Jim. The restraints wouldn’t give.
“What do you need?” Jim said, panting.
“You. I need you,” Spock hissed, opening his mouth to Jim’s searching tongue.
Spock was starting to become nauseous from the motion and pushing on his abdomen. Yet being tired and full and wanting, without inhibitions was painful and exciting. But the realm of sensation was a smaller and smaller world, soon becoming only his own painful erection and the size and force of Jim inside of him. His legs and arms melted off to the side. He was only vaguely aware of the tightness in his stomach, the gaseous bubbling inside, and the looseness and dizziness in his head.
Seeing Spock full and wanton proved too much for Jim. He came startlingly soon. He rode out the erection with slow thrusts into Spock’s nerve-wracked body. Jim pulled at the cock ring. Spock gasped at the release and let out an extended, pained moan.
Jim tiredly began unstrapping Spock from the nylon restraints. Spock groaned with each movement, his eyes closed and his face slightly pained. He was about to fall asleep. Jim recognized that level of drunk, even if this time it was chocolate-drunk on an overwhelmed Vulcan.
After pulling the last strap off Spock’s wrist, Jim leaned into his ear and whispered, “Wanna get cleaned up, baby?”
He knew Spock would be angry in the morning about being covered in saliva-melted sugar, even if he really wanted to sleep at the moment. Spock just groaned and pushed his face into a pillow. Jim cleaned him up, while Spock drifted off into whatever realm of unconscious shame drunken Vulcans lived in.
In the morning, Jim was wonderfully cheerful.
“Good morning, star shine,” Jim said annoyingly as Spock slowly opened his wincing eyes. “So when do you wanna do that again?”
“Ungh.”
“C’mon! Tell me you didn’t love that, you kinky bitch. God, it’s like banging a mormon sometimes. What shames you the most turns you on the most. Except with you it’s weird things that make you show emotion. I bet-“
“If you stop talking this instance, I’ll do it next month.”
Jim Kirk grinned, but didn’t say anything. A month was pretty long, but like everything about Spock, the build up was worth the wait.
:D :D ;D
JLB