Fic: Trial Run
Title: Trial Run
Original prompt/post is here!
Pairing: Kirk/OMC, Bones/Kirk (what a surprise)
Rating: R for implied sex and use of sex toys
Summary: He'd needed the money. It came back to bite him on the ass. Kinda literally.
When the guy who was hitting on him (and buying him drinks, a big plus - Jim was currently broke) said he had some experimental sex toys, Jim figured he was in for a pretty wild night.
He was right.
"You looked beautiful when you were trying them on," the guy smiled later. "If you want to model some of them later, I can pay you - not a lot, but it's negotiable."
Jim agreed. More glorious orgasms, food for his ego, and money to buy food for his stomach? Big plus. He was assured that most of his features would be blurred or obscured in the final prints, but to be frank, he didn't care. What did it matter if his naked body was splashed in some sex toy magazine? It just meant more people in the wide universe getting hot for James Tiberius Kirk, and that was okay by him.
Five years later, he really, really wished he'd said no. Yes, he'd needed the money. But now his entire crew had seen him lick come off his hand with a butt-plug visibly shoved up his ass.
Starfleet's legal team was trying to protect his image, but there wasn't a whole lot they could do. He gladly handed over the original contract (and thanked God that he'd kept it this long) but, again, it just said that the advertisements would "avoid using recognizable features as long as the obstruction doesn't impair the visual effectiveness of the photograph." The photographer had free range to do anything he damn well pleased with the photos.
Apparently, he was damn well pleased to sell them to the highest bidder.
Jim went to Sick Bay to hide for a while.
Bones was scanning a PADD in his office with a wide, lascivious grin. Jim groaned and turned to live.
"Jim, come in here," Bones called after him. "Don't make me hypospray you, dammit!"
Jim shuffled into his office like a scolded schoolboy.
Bones smirked as he held up one of the more...unusual toys from that fateful photo shoot. It was meant to be a comprehensive masturbatory tool, milking the cock, massaging the balls, and pistoning a vibrating dildo at an adjustable angle. It was set up so it could be adjusted to suit most humanoid species, but it was initially designed for humans.
Jim swallowed. It was also one of the more satisfying toys, and the only one he'd actually considered taking instead of money.
"Get your pretty little ass over here and drop trou," Bones ordered cheerfully.
Original prompt/post is here!
Pairing: Kirk/OMC, Bones/Kirk (what a surprise)
Rating: R for implied sex and use of sex toys
Summary: He'd needed the money. It came back to bite him on the ass. Kinda literally.
When the guy who was hitting on him (and buying him drinks, a big plus - Jim was currently broke) said he had some experimental sex toys, Jim figured he was in for a pretty wild night.
He was right.
"You looked beautiful when you were trying them on," the guy smiled later. "If you want to model some of them later, I can pay you - not a lot, but it's negotiable."
Jim agreed. More glorious orgasms, food for his ego, and money to buy food for his stomach? Big plus. He was assured that most of his features would be blurred or obscured in the final prints, but to be frank, he didn't care. What did it matter if his naked body was splashed in some sex toy magazine? It just meant more people in the wide universe getting hot for James Tiberius Kirk, and that was okay by him.
Five years later, he really, really wished he'd said no. Yes, he'd needed the money. But now his entire crew had seen him lick come off his hand with a butt-plug visibly shoved up his ass.
Starfleet's legal team was trying to protect his image, but there wasn't a whole lot they could do. He gladly handed over the original contract (and thanked God that he'd kept it this long) but, again, it just said that the advertisements would "avoid using recognizable features as long as the obstruction doesn't impair the visual effectiveness of the photograph." The photographer had free range to do anything he damn well pleased with the photos.
Apparently, he was damn well pleased to sell them to the highest bidder.
Jim went to Sick Bay to hide for a while.
Bones was scanning a PADD in his office with a wide, lascivious grin. Jim groaned and turned to live.
"Jim, come in here," Bones called after him. "Don't make me hypospray you, dammit!"
Jim shuffled into his office like a scolded schoolboy.
Bones smirked as he held up one of the more...unusual toys from that fateful photo shoot. It was meant to be a comprehensive masturbatory tool, milking the cock, massaging the balls, and pistoning a vibrating dildo at an adjustable angle. It was set up so it could be adjusted to suit most humanoid species, but it was initially designed for humans.
Jim swallowed. It was also one of the more satisfying toys, and the only one he'd actually considered taking instead of money.
"Get your pretty little ass over here and drop trou," Bones ordered cheerfully.