Archive of Our Own

He’s still in sickbay as the Enterprise docks, slipping neatly into the arms of Starbase Seventeen. His nurses are buzzing about him, smiling behind his back and making plans for their R and R; the ship is going to be docked for a full two days. In theory, this should give Scotty time to patch them up after their latest awkward threeway battle with some overeager Klingons and a rogue Romulan vessel. After the beating they took, it’s hard to believe the Enterprise can be saved at all, but Scotty’s a miracle worker and they all trust him.

Well, almost all. There aren’t many people Leonard fully trusts, and after this last week, it’s fewer than ever. He thought he could trust Jim to exercise a modicum of common sense, but obviously, that was misplaced. Despite his severe warnings—and Spock’s, which is saying something, as they rarely agree—Jim spent a chunk of that massive battle performing sabotage on the enemy ships. True, they probably wouldn’t have survived without it, but the captain shouldn’t have gone and it was still crazy and Leonard’s still pissed.

But on the bright side, it does mean he gets his way for this vacation: his reward and Jim’s punishment. They already agreed to it with whispers on the bridge and suggestive nods, and as the medical staff around Leonard chatter with anticipation, a thin sliver of excitement works its way down his spine. Two whole days of having Jim Kirk at his fingertips, fully obliged to whatever he likes. Full reign. And with the serum Leonard’s just finished, those two days are going to stretch longer than Jim thought.

Of course, that’s hardly much of a punishment. Jim can talk a big game and puff up his chest, but behind closed doors, he’s just a greedy cockslut, and Leonard knows they’re both in for a treat.

He can feel the deck thrum to a stop beneath his feet, and Uhura’s lilting voice fills the air to announce their docking. Secret serum tucked in a little medkit safely under his arm, Leonard heads for the door of sickbay, trying valiantly to keep the lecherous grin off his face.

The room’s spartan and empty when Leonard arrives. Standard starbase guest quarters, decorated generically for Starfleet officers, with a few star maps plastered here and there and various Starfleet insignias carved into miscellaneous surfaces. The close-cut carpet is nice relief from sickbay’s cold floors, and the stark white furniture has a crisp, modern feel. But the fully integrated interface makes him feel a tad awkward, having never been one for overdoing technology, and the computer’s voice is more grating and metallic than the smooth purr on the Enterprise he’s come to associate with Christine. He takes a moment to memorize the room’s layout and stops for a glass of replicated water, somehow fresher tasting that the recycled particles aboard a starship.

While he drinks, he eyes the furniture, the couch and the chairs and the little coffee table, even the kitchen island: all the places he can fuck Jim over. The places he will fuck Jim over. The kitchen counter is just the right height to make Jim have to strain on his toes, bent over it, and he’ll look beautiful laid out along the boxy sofa. The floor should be padded enough to fuck on, although, considering this is supposed to be a punishment, maybe Leonard should keep the floor-sex to the hard tile of the washroom. Or maybe he’ll just take Jim against the wall and over the coffee table. Or he’ll sprawl out on the couch himself and have Jim kneel between his legs, swallow down his cock and suckle him for as long as Leonard’s new serum lets him hold out. He can’t make everything too easy. Jim should be sore by the time they’re done—bruised, spent, stained and aching. He should be a shivering wreck, covered in the evidence of Leonard’s pleasure, and maybe then he’ll learn not to waste his pretty body running off on suicide missions.

Leonard shakes his head and puts the empty glass down on the counter. He’s being silly; Jim will never learn. It’s part of his charm. He’s an infuriating monster, and he doesn’t even have the decency to show up on time for their planned vacation. He’ll say he’s busy off being captain, maybe blame Spock for keeping him back, but Leonard will still punish Jim for whatever the reason, and he grins to himself as he drifts towards the bedroom.

The bedroom’s not much different than the rest of the quarters. Leonard drops his bags between the bed and the empty faux-wood wardrobes, opting not to bother putting his clothes away. Or maybe he’ll make Jim do it; he could use his own a yeoman. Or a personal servant. One not allowed to wear clothes. In fact, tying Jim up and having him perform menial tasks for Leonard’s amusement is one of Leonard’s favourite forms of punishment, and in the end, he deliberately puts his bag out of the way, by the door instead, so that Jim will have to carry it over. Perhaps with the handle in his mouth and his arms firmly bound behind his back. The more Leonard thinks of it, the more he gets anxious to start, and he almost pulls out his communicator to ask where the hell his pleasure slave is. But that would open a can of worms in front of whoever Jim’s currently with, so Leonard wills himself to be patient and get on with things. There’ll be plenty of time to split Jim in two with his cock later.

It’s a little warm in these rooms. Good. He doesn’t plan to wear clothes much, and he pulls his tunic over his head as he bends down to retrieve his medkit. Down to socks, pants, and undershirt, he heads for the washroom—may as well get clean before he gets filthy. The bathroom is small and utilitarian, all grey steel and ceramic whites, and silvery things out of an alien metal he doesn’t recognize. He pulls his undershirt off before squaring in front of the mirror over the sink, wondering if he should shave again. He’s got the faintest hint of a five-o-clock shadow, but once Jim arrives, he probably won’t be stopping for personal grooming. But then, maybe he wants to scratch Jim when they kiss. It’s supposed to be rough. So he decides to leave the stubble to grow and pops open the medkit.

The serum is a fairly simple concoction. He injects one dose with a hypospray, the whole procedure over in less than two seconds. There’s an instant, microscopic sensation in his veins that makes him think of caffeine. Then it’s gone, and he feels perfectly normal. That one dose should last him several rounds, which should more than counteract Jim’s youthful stamina.

For a moment, he considers sharing the serum with Jim. But then, that would hardly teach Jim a lesson. There has to be something cruel to Leonard’s prize, and he winds up tucking the hypo away again and stuffing the medkit in the cupboard under the sink. Then it’s off to the shower, kicking off his pants, underwear, and socks on the way.

There’s a sonic option, but Leonard’s never been one to skip a proper water-wash. He pulls the glass-like door closed around him and turns on the spray, letting the hot water stream out all at once and the steam billow up in waves. It fills the little cubicle up in no time, wrapping him in a thick, stifling heat that only aids his fantasies. He’s thought of little else since the battle ended and their deal was struck.

And the more he thinks about it, the harder he gets, because it’s not that far off, and it’s so very easy to picture Jim naked. Leonard’s seen it enough times, and Jim’s built well enough for his uniform to stretch thinly across his skin, mold to all his curves and muscles, cling to his thighs when he sits and crease along his pecs when he straightens his shoulders. And then, of course, there’s the sizeable bulge in his pants, always eye-catching, but especially evident when he sits, when he lounges back in his captain’s chair, spreads his legs like the slut he is and tilts his pretty body back along the cushion. Just thinking about Jim sprawled out in that chair, thighs open in invitation and maybe uniform ripped to shreds, makes Leonard’s cock twitch. Or better yet, he’d like to push Jim out of that chair, sit in it himself, and make Jim crawl between his legs right in the middle of the bridge, nose at Leonard’s crotch and beg to be of use. If they were Orions, Jim would make a perfect slave boy, and Leonard would be the greedy captain, perfectly at ease violating his loving pet right at the helm of their ship.

The soap comes out of a little nozzle in the side of the wall, and Leonard pumps a small handful into his palm, smoothing it down over his wet skin as he daydreams. The water slides it down his broad chest, presses it into the jut of his hips, and it bubbles in the dark curls above his crotch. Leonard spends considerable time soaping up his waist and ass as he considers using the soap as lube to pump his cock with, but a part of him wants to wait. The serum will give him plenty of rounds, yes, but why waste even a single load not on or in his willing captain? Of course, that’s a dangerous argument to make, because it only gives his head the image of jerking himself off onto Jim’s smiling face, and that only fills his cock with more blood. Heavy and engorged, it defies the oncoming water that tries to push it down, and it juts proudly out in the air, just waiting for a ripe ass to sink into. In the end, he decides he can wait, and he bypasses his crotch to spread the soap along his legs, stalling as he goes just because it’s a pleasant sensation, having time to really unwind and shower right. On another crew’s station, he can’t be called away for a medical emergency, and right now, he can’t be summoned by his captain, either. He can take all the time he wants soaking in water and picture debauching his superior officer in the middle of the messhall, Jim bent over a table and being pounded into his uneaten bowl of salad.

A noise sounds in the distance, outside of the washroom, and it pulls him out of his reverie. It takes him a second to realize what it is, but the noises that follow make it easier to guess; someone’s entered their quarters, and that someone must be Jim. Leonard almost steps out as he is to trail water across the carpet and tackle Jim to the floor.

But instead, he decides it might be fun to leave his naughty partner hanging. So he stays to enjoy his shower, luxuriating longer than usual, because every second that passes is one that’ll inevitably make Jim nervous and give Leonard power. It also builds his own anticipation, and he wants that, wants to be at the top of his game, wants to be virile and positively feral when it comes.

Once, Jim knocks on the door of the washroom. But Leonard ignores it and smoothly tells the computer to lock the room. The water stays evenly hot the whole way through.

By the time he does leave the shower, it’s quiet in their quarters. Leonard’s tugged his underwear and pants back on, but left the undershirt and socks hanging up in the washroom. It seems a waste to overdress. The door slides open on his command, revealing the bedroom.

Jim’s sitting on the bed, like Leonard half expected. But so much better.

He thought Jim might be naked. Jim can be a nudist at heart, and shirts never survive long on him. But he’s more than naked. He’s kneeling on the blue covers with his creamy thighs spread, his feet tucked under his round ass, his posture straightening instantly under Leonard’s scrutiny. His arms are loose at his sides, like the leash running down his front. The leash is attached to the thick black collar around his neck that Leonard’s so very fond of; it marks Jim as the dog he is. Jim’s mouth is clamped around a long, old-fashioned key, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what that key is for.

Between Jim’s legs, his cock is tightly bound by connected metal rings, securing him from tip to base and fastened around his balls. There’s a little golden lock at the top that Leonard plans to leave shut for quite a bit longer than Jim’s probably planning, but at least they’re on the same page for what his punishment entails. When it comes to cocksluts like Jim, sex doesn’t work for punishment without a little orgasm denial. Or a lot.

Jim’s grinning around the key, and once Leonard’s had his fill of his boyfriend’s body—which he never really does, but he can’t just ogle it forever—he steps up to pull the key loose. Jim relinquishes it into Leonard’s hand like a dog releasing a bone to its master. Moist from Jim’s saliva, the key rolls in Leonard’s palm, smooth and new. He muses below his breath, “Interesting.”

“Thought you’d like it,” Jim chirps. Then, more quietly, he adds, “I know you didn’t want me to go on that ship, Bones, but I—”

They’ve had this argument enough, both privately and in the middle of the bridge with Spock involved, and Leonard doesn’t want to go through it again. So he snaps, “I didn’t give you permission to speak.” And Jim instantly shuts his mouth like a good boy. It gives Leonard more time to examine his prize without interruption, which he can’t resist doing from another angle or two, strolling lazily around the bed. Finally, he can’t resist.

He comes to stand at the end of the bed, right in front of Jim, all of Jim’s bare body exposed to him, even the pink skin of his cock squeezed between the bars of his cage, forced to bend down in a smooth arc instead of hard and out like Leonard’s. Jim’s blue eyes are fixed on the bulge in Leonard’s pants, and he’s kind enough to let Jim stare.

He reaches for the leash, plucks it off of Jim’s skin, holds it taut in his hands, thin and sturdy. When he gives it a tug, Jim jerks forward with a choking noise at the harsh treatment, falling onto his hands and knees. Leonard doesn’t relinquish his grip, because he likes the way Jim’s throat looks when it’s arched, and also how it’ll look after, red and bruised from having the collar chafe against it. He gives Jim a second to breathe again, then yanks the leash all the way forward, bending at the same time. A hand darts out to grab Jim’s chin and tilts it up so he can smash their mouths together, though Jim’s too busy gagging against his collar to do much kissing back. Leonard takes over and ravages Jim’s mouth in one short but brutal kiss, tongue delving in to claim Jim’s insides and teeth biting hard into Jim’s lip. By the time Leonard pulls away, Jim’s already whimpering and leaning up for more.

Leonard kisses his chin instead, bites at his jaw, digging in hard teeth to leave angry little marks that will need to be professionally removed before they’re back on duty. Leonard scrapes along Jim’s cheekbone and reaches Jim’s ear, growling into it, “Do you remember your safe word?”

Jim nods against him, smartly not speaking, and Leonard rewards the admission by biting down on Jim’s ear, hard enough to make Jim hiss. A few harsh nibbles, and Leonard purrs, “Good boy.” Jim shivers in his hands, always putty for that praise.

Jim’s too far along the bed for Leonard’s liking, but that’s easily fixed, when he draws his head back from Jim’s, the side of his face that Leonard attacked is redder than the other. Leonard will even it out by the end; he’ll leave marks on every single part of Jim’s body. When he steps back, he takes the leash with him, tugging Jim along by it, so that Jim has to stumble over the edge of the bed, dropping to the floor. Jim can be so graceful at times, but here he’s clumsy and awkward, given no time to do it right, and just barely manages to get on all fours again as Leonard brings the leash in more and more loops around his wrist, drawing it tighter and tighter. By the end of it, Leonard just fists his hand in Jim’s soft blond hair, and he uses the grip to yank Jim up and shove Jim into his crotch. Jim grunts as his nose is slammed into the hefty tent, but his whimper quickly morphs into a moan.

Jim’s a wreck already. Leonard’s the one hard as a rock, the one with medical help, and he can feel that extra boost as he grinds his crotch in Jim’s face, holding Jim so tightly against him that it’s a wonder Jim can breathe. Poor Jim doesn’t know about the serum, but it’s unlikely he’ll mind—he already looks fully engaged, ridiculously turned on, with his pupils more dilated every time they slide up to Leonard’s face. Jim even opens his mouth on his own and tries to engulf the outline of Leonard’s dick through his pants, sliding up and down the flagrant imprint. If Leonard hadn’t been thinking of this all day, he’d probably draw it out, force Jim to plead and beg for his master’s cock, do tricks and kiss Leonard feet and humiliate himself for Leonard’s entertainment. But Leonard has been thinking about it, and Jim’s utterly irresistible, so Leonard gives in and jerks Jim’s head back to give his other hand room to open his pants. Head held back so far that his neck looks like it might snap, Jim can only watch through lidded eyes, his sinful tongue poking out to trace his plush lips. If there’s anything about him that screams whore, it’s that pouty mouth of his, do deliberately wanton that it’s a wonder all of his crew aren’t jumping in line to do this.

Maybe they are, and Jim turns them all down because he knows to whom he belongs. Though really, Leonard might not mind sharing, especially if he got to watch. Jim can be almost insatiable at times, and a face like that deserves to be fucked, over and over, as much as possible, and Leonard’s sure he’s not the only one who spends all their time on the bridge fantasizing of it.

He doesn’t need to fantasize now, because as soon as his pants are open, Jim’s straining forward, straining against Leonard’s grip. Leonard let’s go, and Jim’s mouth falls as open as it can, ducking to engulf Leonard’s cock. His head pops onto Jim’s tongue, he grunts in surprise and pleasure, and Jim doesn’t stop. He’s always over-eager for cock; it’s a wonder he hasn’t choked himself to death by now. He slides right down Leonard’s shaft, and Leonard, feeling a tad vindictive over their early argument, thrusts himself right in.

He hits the back of Jim’s throat, impaling Jim right to the root, the end of his long cock jammed halfway down Jim’s throat all at once, and Jim gags, throat convulsing and trying to pull off. Leonard clutches at Jim’s perfect blond hair tight enough to pull out a few strands. He holds Jim all the way down, keeps Jim’s nose buried in his pubic hair, knowing those pretty lips are well-trained enough to stay open. The ripple of Jim’s contracting throat is heaven around him. Jim struggles, and each bit of that struggle is a new wave of pleasure for Leonard, who doesn’t relent even a centimeter, even when Jim’s eyes begin to water at the edges. Leonard thumbs one of them clear, brushing the tears back across his cheek, and Jim shuts that one eye and looks up at him with the other, half-lidded and hazy, cute and hot in one go. Leonard starts to grind his hips into Jim before Jim’s ready, and Jim whimpers around him before slipping back into spasms and choking noises that all feel better than the last. Leonard’s humping Jim’s face wildly in no time, and finally Jim manages, miraculously, to regain himself, now completely pink-faced and crying and breathing through his nose. Leonard gives him a few long, hard thrusts before finally letting go of Jim’s hair, and Jim, clearly wanting to behave himself this session, remains completely impaled on his master’s cock.

Leonard gives one last grind into Jim’s warm mouth, while Jim sucks on it mid-sniffle, and then he holds Jim’s forehead back and slides himself out. A trail of dripping saliva and sticky precum goes with it, stringing between his bulbous tip and Jim’s swollen lips and dribbling messily down Jim’s chin.

For a minute, it’s a stalemate, Leonard resisting brutally fucking Jim’s face and Jim staring longingly at Leonard’s beast of a cock, waiting permission to move. Then Leonard stabs his hips forward, smearing his leaking dick over the bridge of Jim’s nose, and Jim whines and tilts up to kiss the underside. The hunger in Jim’s eyes is unbearable, so Leonard grabs his hair again, earning a cry followed by Jim’s mouth obediently falling open again, stretched wide in the perfect ‘o’ that just begs to be filled with cock. Leonard obligingly slams into that.

He lets Jim move this time, bob up and down on him, although he keeps his grip on the leash and Jim’s head, because Jim makes extra little noises whenever his hair gets pulled, and he looks so pretty when he’s overwhelmed between pleasure and pain. Leonard keeps humping forward on his own, forcing Jim to take his cock at a breakneck pace, with long, full thrusts that bury himself at the back of Jim’s throat. Jim lets his mouth be ravaged, and even tries to lick and suck when he can, although Leonard’s taking him too brutally for much skill to be involved. It’s still a perfect blow job, and the serum lets Leonard last so much longer than he normally could, which Jim doesn’t once complain about, because Jim is built to sit at Leonard’s feet and do nothing but warm Leonard’s cock. It’s made clear in the subtle way Jim leans into every thrust, the way he suckles on what he can and the adoration in his eyes.

Leonard stays in for as long as he can, right to the very last second, only pulling out when his balls have tightened and he’s one thrust away from explosion. Jim’s mouth stays hanging open, jaw practically unhinged, and he doesn’t even have time to close his eyes. Leonard doesn’t even have to point his cock at Jim’s face; he barely gets it a centimeter away and he’s perfectly erect. He bursts with a wild growl, cum splattering right against Jim’s nose, spraying across his cheeks and draping up to his forehead, clinging to his eyelids. Jim manages to get them closed, but they’re still covered, little globs of Leonard’s seed matting in his long lashes and slicking across his eyebrows. It dribbles down his chin worst of all, welling up in his open mouth, catching on his tongue as he tries to catch some of it. While Leonard’s still streaming his serum-enhanced load, Jim tilts blindly up to lick at his mushroom head, lapping at the sides and catching more and more seed directly in his mouth. Leonard, awash in an incredible orgasm, barely has the wherewithal to grab the base of his shaft and rub the rest right into Jim’s skin and lips. Halfway through, Jim makes his way up to the head, latches around it and swallows the rest. It pours thickly down his throat, heavy on his abused tongue, and he suckles eagerly on it, tasting what he can and swallowing everything.

Finally, Leonard’s finished. Spent, empty, heavy and dazed. He feels like a tidal wave’s wrenched through him, and it clearly wrecked Jim in the process. As he pulls back a step, his cock slipping out of Jim’s mouth, Jim slowly blinks his eyes open. He shuts them again a second later. He starts to swipe what he can off his lips and chin, gathering more and more cum into his mouth, and he lifts one hand off the ground like a paw, but hesitates and lowers it.

Instead, he sits submissively still, coated in Leonard’s release, head slightly bowed, though he mutters, “Shit, Bones...”

So Leonard takes that step forward again and swings his hips to slap Jim across the face with his cock. Jim grunts and flinches, closing his mouth again, still keeping his eyes closed. Obviously he forgot that dogs can’t talk. For a good few seconds, with blood pounding in his ears and a heart rate just barely coming down, Leonard admires his handiwork. He even bends down to cup Jim’s chin and tilt it up, turning it slightly in the light. Jim’s beautiful, always is, but sometimes Leonard thinks he’s best like this, utterly filthy and used.

But Jim’s going to need to be able to open his eyes eventually, so Leonard benevolently moves to clear them. He grunts, “Show me your teeth,” and Jim, jaw clenched, parts his lips. Leonard uses them to clean off the head of his cock, rubbing into them, then uses his cock to wipe the cum off Jim’s eyelashes. Unconventional, but it works well enough. When Leonard’s finished, Jim slowly blinks them open.

Then he spots Leonard’s re-hardening cock, and those shining blue irises go very, very wide. Leonard smirks and announces, “That was round one. I think I’ll take five, then we’ll move onto round two.”

A few flicks of his wrist, and the leash is uncurled back to a reasonable length. Leonard uses that to drag Jim towards the living room, where he could use a good human footstool during his five-minute break.

When Leonard shoves Jim against the kitchen counter, he can hear the metal of the cock cage clink into it. Jim winces with the impact but says nothing. His fingers grip the edge of the counter, his head hangs, and he lets Leonard kick his legs further apart. Leonard gives a firm push between his shoulder blades to make him arch out, chest forward and ass back towards Leonard. It gives Leonard a chance to examine Jim’s ass properly, and he smirks at what he finds.

Apparently, Jim didn’t stop at the cage. There’s a little metal ring nestled in his hole, glistening with quality lube, and stretching him open just enough to fit a few fingers. Not nearly enough for the impressive girth of Leonard’s cock. Either Jim forgot just how much he’s dealing with, or he only wanted to give Leonard a tantalizing peak, and either one would merit punishment.

Grabbing two fistfuls of ass and kneading one cheek in each of his hands, Leonard growls, “Nice touch, kid.” Though Jim’s face stays out of view, Leonard’s sure he’s smirking; it shows in his posture. Leonard squeezes extra hard, and digs his nails into the undersides where cheeks meet thighs. Jim makes a mewling noise and tries to push his ass back into Leonard’s hands, always a glutton for rough treatment.

Because it’s not about pleasing Jim, Leonard pulls his hands back and gives Jim a broad smack across the ass. Jim’s shoulders tense for half a second, and Leonard indulges himself with another swat just for the heck of it, only catching one cheek. But that only makes him feel sorry for the other, so Jim gets a third whack. Then another across both cheeks. Inevitably, Leonard falls into giving Jim a quick but stern spanking that has him gasping in only a few swats, tensing and keening a few more, then whining and arching, his flushed skin darkening with each blow. Leonard stops shorter than he normally would; Jim’s ass is going to be in for enough abuse today, and Leonard doesn’t want to tire it out just yet. Still, he waits until Jim’s round ass is a nice, rosy red, littered in handprints, before he stops, and Jim, quivering, lets out a ragged breath.

Leonard stifles a chuckle, because they’re nowhere near finished. He’s getting hungry for more than just sex, which means he’ll have to get a move on.

He drops his hands back to their original task, one holding Jim’s cheeks apart and the other searching the inside of the metallic ring for the control buttons. They require a preset pattern to adjust so they can’t be accidentally triggered, but Leonard’s hardly new to this ring, and he manipulates it expertly. He keeps it open a setting wider, then slips two fingers inside, through the opened hole, exposed to the hot, pulsing walls of Jim’s ass, and he strokes them gently with his fingertips, loving the way Jim shivers in his arms and hisses in delight. He works his way up from soft touches quickly into scissoring Jim open, coaxing his tight chamber wider and wider, adjusting the ring settings with his thumb as he goes. He needs Jim’s ass compliant to the width it’s held open at to not be painful, but the ring nicely keeps it held that way when it might otherwise begin to re-constrict. And it makes for a nice show, dribbling their favourite no-drying, long-lasting lube as it is.

He keeps going until Jim’s hole is gaping open, the pink-red view inside obscenely exposed, the lube shining along the brim like a welcoming beacon. It’s a nice little fuck-me target, and he spends a few extra moments just staring at it, his hands idly stroking Jim’s warm ass, while Jim stays bent over the counter and pants and squirms.

Jim breaks the magic first by whining, “Bones,” but that just makes Leonard slap him again. Jim grunts and takes it, shoulders hunching, and Leonard wills himself to move on. He’s hard again from the sight of his helpless lover, but after the last mind-blowing orgasm, the need to come isn’t as pressing, and he figures he can take his time. He can feed his other hunger. He flattens against Jim’s back, cock nestling between Jim’s spread cheeks, and he reaches up over Jim’s shoulder into the bland kitchen cabinets. The only things within reach are generic dishes, so Leonard fetches a simple plate and places it around Jim on the counter.

Next, he forces himself to withdraw, headed for the fridge. It’s packed with a few basics, mostly Earth-based, as this is an Terran-oriented suite. There are some things just as easily made as synthesized, and apparently the makings for a simple peanut butter and jam sandwich are in that category. Having always been a fan of the classics, Leonard takes bread, peanut butter, jam, and a blunt butter-knife over to Jim, who’s still right where he was put.

Jim looks sideways at the ingredients in question, and Leonard, liking this idea more and more, orders, “Make me a sandwich.” Jim’s nose wrinkles, like he either thinks it’s a strange request or would rather skip it regardless. But he does reach for the loaf of sliced bread.

Leonard takes that opportunity to grab Jim’s hips tight in his hands, position his own crotch behind Jim, and maneuver the head of his outstretched cock against Jim’s pried-open hole.

He sinks inside as hard as he can, slamming Jim into the counter. Jim cries out, falling forward and nearly banging his head against the wall, and Leonard hisses in pleasure himself; Jim’s ass is just as amazing as it always is. Hot, tight, velvet-soft, and the cloying pressure is heaven. It takes a bit of grinding, short pistons in and out, and extra force to push it inside, each time earning a keening or gasping noise from Jim’s trembling body. When Leonard’s finally balls-deep in Jim’s perfect ass, Jim leans back against him, presses tight to his chest, and sighs contentedly.

He tries to turn his head enough to peck Leonard’s cheek, but Leonard grabs his hair and pushes him back over the counter and out of reach. He barks, “I want that sandwich,” and punctuates it with a hard stab of his cock. Jim reaches again for the bread.

Leonard doesn’t make it easy. After he pulls half out, he’s right back inside, every thrust fast and unforgiving. He bangs Jim against the counter with each one, grateful that at least the cage should keep Jim’s poor cock from getting too bruised. Poor Jim squirms on Leonard’s dick like he wants to be free and hard, but can’t, and Leonard doesn’t say a word about letting Jim go. He loses himself easily in the delicious feeling of Jim’s plush walls around him. He gets an extra, sick satisfaction out of seeing Jim work through it, made even better by the way Jim’s normally headstrong, confident movements are now hesitant and trembling. He misses the jar a few times when he tries to get the knife into the jam, and on one particularly hard thrust of Leonard’s cock, the jar falls to bang against the counter, the thick purple contents leaking out in a shallow puddle. Jim rights it again, but not in time.

Before Jim can try to clean the mess on his own, Leonard grabs Jim’s hair and shoves his head down against the counter, barking, “Clean it up.” The silent order of which supplies to use is obvious, and Jim drags his tongue along the counter, sucking the sweet remains up into his mouth while Leonard keeps pounding into his ass. Watching Jim’s body contort to do all the things Leonard wants of it is a special treat that makes Leonard impossibly harder. When the counter’s gleaming with saliva and the spill’s all disappeared into Jim’s mouth, Leonard wrenches him back out, straightens him, and continues ramming inside like it’s all perfectly normal. Jim moans and tries to lean back into Leonard, but Leonard hisses dangerously in his ear, “I want that sandwich, kid.”

So Jim gets back to his domestic chores, engulfing Leonard’s cock and preparing Leonard’s meal all at once. It takes Jim an absurdly long time to spread the peanut butter, and if the knife in his hands were any bit sharper, the bread would be bloodstained. But it’s harmless as it is, and Jim fumbles his way through, until he’s got one plain sandwich sitting on the plate, and he can drop the knife and use his arms to brace himself against the backsplash instead, falling now into a steady stream of whimpers and cries. The kitchenette has decent acoustics, and the loud slap of flesh-on-flesh is heavy in the air, permeating with the stench of sweat and sex. Leonard seems to last even longer on this round, and he briefly considers having Jim cook him a proper meal like this.

But then he nears his peak, and he’s scrambling for something else. He pins Jim against the counter, wracking a grunt out of Jim’s hoarse throat, and he starts fishing through the cabinets until he finds a clear cup. His fingers close around it just in time.

He pushes out of Jim right when the orgasm hits him, the pleasure mounting to a wild level, and he shoves the glass down, cupping his cock. His release sprays out so hard that it ricochets off the base and splatters out the sides, so Leonard has to hold it farther back, cursing. He wraps his other hand around his cock and helps pump himself out, filling the glass up with a sizeable puddle of white.

No longer held up, Jim sinks limply to the floor, used but unspent himself. Leonard’s still milking himself out and enjoying the last remnants of his orgasm by the time Jim turns around, gingerly trying to keep his ass off the floor.

His eyes fix on the glass, and Leonard slowly reaches his end, the ecstasy diffusing into a pleasant fog and his cock, miraculously, still not-quite flagging.

Staggering against the counter, Leonard eyes his own sandwich and the naked mass at his feet.

Smirking, he hands the glass down to Jim, snickering, “I think you earned yourself a drink while I enjoy my sandwich.”

It doesn’t quite seem fair to eat and drink while Jim’s mouth is only being used for one thing, so Leonard decides to show mercy. He fills a ceramic bowl from one of the lower cupboards left for pets wth water, and he leaves it in the corner of the kitchen, telling Jim, “If you get thirsty today, that’s where you go.”

Jim snorts and grumbles, “Why not just the toilet?” Because that would be more along the lines of how Leonard’s treating him. But Bones responds to the joke with a wicked look and a thoughtful glint to his eye, which makes Jim’s face pale and frown. The only reason Leonard leaves Jim with the bowl instead is that he’s not sure he wants Jim’s mouth on him after the toilet.

Jim does take a drink from his bowl, bending down on all fours before it with a deliberate posture meant to display his ass, his hole still gaping wide. Leonard doesn’t bother doing anything until Jim’s done drinking, because it’s too distracting. Jim drinks like a dog but moans like a human, and when he’s done, he licks his lips like a whore and sits back up on bent knees, his beautiful body still beaded with sweat from being fucked so hard. His pink nipples are perked in the open air, though it’s lukewarm in their quarters. Leonard’s tucked himself back into his pants but still not bothered with anything else.

As he takes his seat at the round kitchen table, his plate in hand, he gestures at the other chair, which Jim slinks up to. His glass is waiting for him, and while Leonard sets into his sandwich, Jim tips the glass against his lips, letting the pool of Leonard’s seed slip down into his mouth. Jim makes a proper show of it, turning to give Leonard the best possible angle and working his tongue along the rim, adam’s apple bobbing with each sip he takes. It drizzles, slow and sticky, into him, leaving a thin film along the bottom that Jim has to send his tongue in to reach. When his tongue doesn’t prove quite long enough, Jim resorts to sticking his fingers inside, using them to scoop the rest of Leonard’s cum off the sides and bring it back to his mouth. He cleans his own hands with his blue eyes fogged over, his cheeks flushed and his lips shining from over-use. He sucks each sticky digit slowly in his mouth, savouring it, and by the time Leonard’s done his sandwich, he’s completely hard again.

Jim, unable to see that below the table, continues to lap at his fingers and the licked-clean glass until Leonard nods towards the Synthesizer in the corner and barks, “Get me some pasta.” He figures they’ve still got several hours ahead of them, and he’s going to need his strength up. Jim puts his glass down on the table.

Having not been punished for his last outburst, Jim comments, “You got hard again fast.” He walks while he says it, smartly out of arm’s reach, and opens the drawer below the Synthesizer to sort through the preset chips. Once the right one’s in the slot, Jim looks back over his shoulder, probably expecting an answer, but Leonard doesn’t give one. He also doesn’t answer the unspoken question of when he’ll let Jim have fun, too. While the Synthesizer works, Jim turns around and leans back against the counter, letting the leash slither down his bare chest and fall across his cock, still forced into its curve by the solid cage. The way he juts his hips forwards suggests he wants Bones to be aroused again, because more of Bones’ pleasure means more of Jim’s pleasure, and Jim doesn’t know the refractory period is no longer a problem.

The Synthesizer beeps when it’s done, and Jim turns to pull out the plate, then walks it over to Leonard and places it on the table. The short, swirled noodles covered in orange-red pasta sauce gives Leonard the wild idea to feed Jim the same way. Jim’s always liked Italian. But maybe instead of pasta sauce, Leonard will spend himself on Jim’s bowl, making sure that nothing goes in Jim’s stomach without having the blessing of Leonard’s cock. The idea of Jim on all fours eating cum-soaked food out of a dish is way too appealing, and as soon as Jim’s let go of the plate, Leonard grabs the leash.

He uses that hold to yank Jim down, and Jim cries out as his knees collapse. He hits the floor, scrapes himself together, sits up next to Leonard’s chair, and his eyes widen when he sees Leonard’s lap. He looks, bewildered, up at Leonard’s face, and all Leonard can do is smirk.

Because Jim is too stunned to move, Leonard does it for him, jerking him by the leash around. Leonard spreads his legs and maneuvers Jim between them, pulling Jim right up close, then opening his pants again to pull out his engorged cock. Jim’s mouth opens automatically.

“It doesn’t seem right to leave your mouth empty while I eat,” Leonard idly explains while he slides his cock back into Jim’s mouth. “So I’ll be kind and let you keep my dick warm.”

Jim makes a face, but it isn’t clear which face, because it’s being interrupted with a large helping of cock. Cupping the back of Jim’s head, Leonard slides Jim down as far as he can while keep the ride smooth. It takes a bit of will power to not go back to fucking Jim, but he manages. He stays right there, holding Jim in place with one hand to make it clear that Jim’s not to bob up and down, either. He’s too much of a cockslut to let loose. A few forkfuls into Leonard’s pasta, Jim does try to suck him, and Leonard has to smack the side of his head and growl, “No.” He is training a dog. Although, Jim’s always been more of a puppy, completely unwilling to be housebroken.

But Jim’s also been thoroughly used twice already, and there’s no coy mischief this time around. He takes the break to rest, keeping Leonard’s cock nicely sheathed, and Leonard tries to take his time enjoying the meal.

He can’t stop thinking, while he eats, of all the ways he could feed Jim like this. The sort of food he could give Jim in a bowl, drenched with his seed. Or maybe he should only let Jim ingest sauces licked off his cock and balls. Or maybe he won’t let Jim eat at all; just inject him with the hyposprays he’ll need to go on, and only allow his throat and stomach to be filled with cum.

By the time Leonard’s done his meal, he can’t take it anymore, and he leans back in his chair, groaning loudly from the mingled pleasure of being full and having James Kirk at his mercy. He holds Jim’s head harder onto him and gives one hard thrust that pulls out his orgasm: a gentler, still burning hot storm that swirls down his body and into Jim’s mouth. He growls, “Swallow,” but Jim’s already doing that. He wouldn’t have any choice. Leonard fills his mouth so completely that little rivulets still escape out the side of his lips, bubbling down his chin. Leonard can feel Jim’s throat collapsing around him with each swallow, and Jim drinks down everything he can. Hopefully, Jim’s savouring it, because it might be his last meal of their vacation.

The next place Leonard takes Jim is on the living room for. He drags Jim there by the leash, pushes Jim down against the carpet, and pulls his hands above his head. Jim tries to sit up, but Leonard pushes him back down, straddles his waist and pins him in place while the leash loops around the leg of the couch. Leonard uses it to tie Jim’s wrists together, securing him alongside the couch, then climbs off him and settles back.

Jim mutters, “What the hell’s gotten into you?”

But Leonard just gives him a warning look and chides, “Jim.”

So Jim makes a whining noise and drops his head, staring blindly up at the ceiling while Leonard pushes his legs up into position. He almost wishes he’d brought more supplies, maybe a nice bar to hold Jim’s knees against his chest and keep his ankles apart, but Jim’s given in and behaves; he holds himself in the shape that Leonard bends him into. Probably because it’s clear his punishment is going to last, and there’s nothing to do but obey his master if he ever wants to come. There’s something cute about his caged, mostly-flaccid cock nestled between his thighs, so helpless. Knowing how impatient Jim can be, Leonard’s half-surprised he hasn’t safe-word-ed out by now, but Jim seems to determined to give Leonard his revenge.

Leonard runs his hands along Jim’s body a bit, feeling Jim’s sides, pinching his thighs, palming and scraping and tugging his nipples. Jim lets his body be touched and teased and marked, and his skin turns so nicely pink when Leonard digs into it, drags his nails in neat lines and leaves fingerprints around Jim’s hips. Jim’s ass is still glowing from being spanked, hole still an angry red around the puckered edges, and Leonard spends a bit of time fingering Jim through the ring wedged inside his asshole. He makes sure Jim’s still wet and wide enough to take more cock, and then he positions himself back and presses his dick in, sliding straight in with relative ease.

Jim still whines, wriggling in Leonard’s grasp, but now there’s nothing he can do; Leonard flattens over his body, holding his legs all the way almost back to the ground. His arms are fully stretched out above him, biceps bracketing his messy face, and Leonard’s just forgiving enough to murmur, “Good boy,” and peck Jim’s cheek.

Jim whimpers pathetically and lets his head loll uselessly to one side, exposing his neck for Leonard to nip and bite at. Jim bruises so easily, easier as they go on. He pulls his cock half out of Jim’s ass, sinks back in, and works into a hard rhythm, pounding Jim into the floor without pause. These suites better be soundproof, because the noise of wet flesh and heavy panting is grotesquely loud. Jim’s lost any ability to be coherent at this point, and Leonard’s not far behind, now on his fourth fuck in a row with Jim’s body just as pleasing as all the other times. Jim doesn’t clench around him this time, doesn’t do much to make it better for him, but there’s no need; Jim’s loose, slick walls are just as nice for Leonard to plunder. Though stiff and filled with blood, Leonard’s cock is getting sensitive, which makes Jim’s velvety walls the perfect sheath. He muses to himself as he goes that perhaps he should just stay like this, bury himself in Jim until the serum wears off, wear Jim like a glove around his dick while he eats, reads, showers, sleeps. It’s soft and warm inside, and Jim, trembling and panting in his arms, makes a lovely pillow. Jim’s body feels as good as it looks, even better when it’s sticky and clammy and ripe with musk, debased as it is. Jim only tries to kiss Leonard once, and Leonard ignores it, because Jim’s face is too covered in cum and Leonard had enough salt with his pasta.

When the end comes, Leonard’s too sluggish to pull out right away. The first few jets spray down Jim’s passage, still spilling out as Leonard pushes back up to his knees. He takes himself out only because he wants to paint the rest of Jim’s body, and he has fun pumping himself out across Jim’s chest. Jim’s sturdy frame wracks with each breath and seems to wince wherever cum hits it, hot and fresh. Leonard dumps out everything he has onto Jim and gives a few pumps afterwards, just to make sure.

But he’s done, and he lifts higher up on his knees, straddling and climbing Jim’s body.

He stops at Jim’s chest and, still holding his cock, drags the head around Jim’s nipples, one at a time. Cum’s still bubbling out of the little mouth at the tip, lazily beading and staying where Leonard wipes it. While Leonard’s painting Jim’s right nipple, Jim moans, “This is insane! How are you doing this?”

Concentrating on his work for no particular reason, Leonard answers, “Do you want to be let out of your cage, or are you going to be a good boy and let your master use you some more?” Leonard gives Jim’s nub a few extra nudges, then sits back so he can look at Jim’s face.

Jim looks desperately broken, and he squirms once against his bonds, tugging at the makeshift handcuffs binding his hands to the couch’s leg. He makes a needy whining sound, but he doesn’t ask to be set free, and Leonard can’t help his smirk.

He gets back up on his knees and climbs higher, this time sitting down on Jim’s shoulders, and he presses his cock to Jim’s lips, ordering, “Clean it.”

Taking Jim on all fours is vaguely cruel, because Jim can’t seem to hold himself up properly, and every time Leonard’s too overzealous with his thrusts, Jim’s arms give in and his face falls into the couch. The only reason his knees don’t give way is that Leonard’s cock is holding up his hips. Eventually, Leonard jerks the leash back and holds it taut, keeping Jim’s back straight that way. It makes Jim choke a few times, but it keeps him up the way Leonard wants him, and that makes for easier fucking. His ass is now completely tenderized and almost impossible to pull out of. Leonard slams into it over and over, enjoying every thrust as much as the first.

But he does have some sympathy in him, so he leaves the television on. Unable to get hard, though his cock is bulging against the rings every time Leonard touches it, Jim’s reduced to little more than furniture. He’s a toy, a tool of Leonard’s pleasure. He dazedly watches the Bolian ballet on the large screen across the room, while Leonard concentrates on plowing his new fuck-doll.

It’s another slow-burn orgasm that hits him, and he doesn’t bother painting Jim with it; instead, he grabs Jim’s hips and buries himself inside, dropping the leash so he can shove Jim forward into the couch. He grinds in as he spends himself, and Jim, trembling and pleading nonsense, pushes his ass back.

Leonard just slaps his cheek and snickers, “Not yet, kid.”

There are no windows in the suite, which is just as well; he sees enough of space on the Enterprise. Night’s still simulated on the station, but even without the chiming digital clock on the wall, Leonard knows when it’s getting late. The serum practically erases his refractory period, but he still needs sleep to function. He’s not as young and crazy as he used to be. When the need for sleep is undeniable, Leonard drags his pet to the bedroom, and Jim crawls behind, making cute little sniffling noises and reeking of sweat and cum but not once protesting. At the foot of the bed, Leonard yanks him up by the collar.

Jim, the poor wreck, falls back off the edge on the first attempt, and takes a bit of scrambling to actually make his way onto the mattress. When he’s sitting gingerly in the covers, Leonard hooks a finger under his chin and tilts up his face, examining it in the low light of the bedroom.

He’s nearly crying. The tear tracks from earlier are faint, but his eyes are watery again, his lips are swollen and wet, his face is dotted in beads of white, and the rest of his body isn’t much better. He licks his lips under Leonard’s scrutiny, and for a second, Leonard thinks this is going to be it; Jim’s going to use his safe word and the game will end, and Leonard will scoop him up and clean him off, pet his hair and take care of him, promising that they’re good.

But then Jim just hangs his head, waiting on instructions.

So Leonard pats his ass, and Jim, wincing at the impact, moves back to crawl to the head of the bed. Leonard pushes him down by the neck, shoves his pretty face into the pillows and traces down his spine, pulling his thighs apart. The raunchy view of his ass is made better by the peek of his tight balls flattened back against the mattress, and Leonard considers grabbing them, tugging them, maybe squeezing them just a fraction too hard and forcing those tears to spill down Jim’s cheeks.

But Leonard isn’t quite that cruel, and instead he just flattens down over Jim’s back, lining his cock back up with where it belongs.

He sinks inside Jim with a satisfied sigh, and he wraps his arms tight around Jim’s body to hold him in Jim. Jim is limp in his hold, having gone from a quality fucktoy to a useless ragdoll. It’s hot in it’s own way, and Leonard lets Jim relax in his grip. But Leonard still fucks him, slower than before but still hard, because Leonard doesn’t seem capable of softly making love today. It’s still a punishment, after all, and when he sinks his cock inside Jim’s stretched ass, he goes balls-deep every time, rubs at Jim’s insides, batters Jim’s prostate, and drags himself out to do it all again.

Jim turns his face sideways in the pillow, breathing hard, looking utterly witless and broken, and he mumbles once, “Bones—” but doesn’t finish. He’s probably determined to behave. Or maybe he just trusts Bones to only give him what he can take, which might be an entirely misplaced sentiment.

It’s amazing how good Jim feels, even after all these rounds. He thinks he could fuck Jim forever and never grow bored of it. If they never leave this room, he could go on taking Jim like this for years, though after a while, he’d miss conversation and have to let Jim talk a little more. But the power dynamics and sex could continue. Daydreaming it out, Leonard buries his face in the back of Jim’s neck and hair, inhales the scent of his lover, and murmurs, “Your ass feels so good.” Jim mewls, writhing beneath him. With a chuckle, Leonard adds, “You’re such a good boy for me, Jim. You’ve been so good.”

Jim whines. It’s sweet and torturous at once, and Jim mumbles something that doesn’t make any sense and might not even be in any language. Kissing his bare shoulder, Leonard whispers, “It’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll make sure you’re clean and comfortable, once we’re back in sickbay.” He probably won’t be able to walk around the station tomorrow, though—what a shame.

Jim rasps, “You’re evil.” But the accusation cuts off in a shrill cry as Leonard deliberately grinds into his prostate. A few more hard thrusts, and Leonard’s slamming and grinding into it, hissing out another delightful orgasm. He bites down in Jim’s shoulder while he comes, just to leave teeth-marks on Jim’s skin. He fills Jim up with another round of his seed, and doesn’t pull out until he’s sure he’s spent it all. He needs to keep Jim lubed up in case they go for another round in the middle of the night.

Jim doesn’t look quite cable of another round. Once Leonard climbs off him, he rolls dazedly onto his side, tears now streaming down his cheeks. Leonard bends down to kiss his face, petting back his hair and soothing, “Good boy, Jim. You’re almost there.”

Jim tilts his face up but can’t seem to manage anymore, so Leonard does it for him, pressing their mouths together for a short, chaste kiss. When they part, Leonard pecks Jim’s forehead, and Jim mumbles, “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The covers are a bit difficult to pull loose with Jim lying on them, but Leonard manages without his captain’s help. He pushes them all down, then pulls them back up, tucking Jim safely in beside him. Some fiddling, and Leonard manages to unbuckle the collar, tossing it and the attached leash safely aside for the night. Jim worms up to his side, trying to cuddle. Leonard, instead, turns Jim around to face the other way, then spoons against him. Leonard’s cock presses neatly between the warm cheeks of Jim’s ass, still hard, though his body’s now too tired to respond.

He barks, “Lights off,” and falls gradually asleep as he shallowly ruts into his boyfriend.

After some of the most erotic dreams of his life, Leonard’s dragged back to reality. Muffled footsteps and closing drawers permeate his sleep-addled brain, and when he let’s out a yawn big enough for a bear, all the noises stop.

He turns his head to the side, orders the lights on, and blinks at Jim, frozen over a set of drawers.

A lazy smile twists its way onto Leonard’s lips, and he chuckles, “Looking for your key?”

Jim turns a bright red but scowl-pouts and says, “No.” His bare body looks just as wrecked as Leonard left it, though some of the red marks have managed to fade back into the rest of his skin after a night’s worth of rest. Mercifully for Jim, Leonard only woke up and took him once.

Now, Leonard snickers at Jim’s transparency, waves down at the blankets and says, “Come blow me if you ever want to come.”

Jim lets out a begrudging sigh, but he must think he’s come too far now to quit, because he stumbles back to the bed. There are patches of his skin matted with dried cum, but he hasn’t put his leash and collar back on yet. He still looks far more like an Orion plaything than a Starfleet captain.

Slithering under the blankets, Jim crawls his way to Leonard’s crotch. He gets one little lick up Leonard’s shaft before Leonard grabs his ankle and pulls him up, face still hovering over Leonard’s crotch while Leonard strokes the back of his thighs and admires his ass. Evidently, he’s taken it upon himself to pull out his anal ring, and his furrowed hole’s shrunk down to a normal size, tiny and blinking under Leonard’s scrutiny. Leonard affectionately brushes his thumb around it while Jim kisses and licks his cock, the serum he injected last evening still in his system. He’ll take another injection once he gets out of bed, but first he wants to give Jim breakfast.

As Leonard’s hands stray down between Jim’s legs, Jim slides his mouth down over Leonard’s cock, probably to stifle his own whimpers. He impales himself to the root and starts to bob up and down, lucky that Leonard’s too tired to bother humping Jim’s face. He lets Jim fuck himself on Leonard’s pulsing member, and in the meantime, Leonard fingers the soft skin of Jim’s shaft between the bars of the cage. It’s almost sad, seeing the poor thing held back like that, knowing how sex-crazed Jim always is, but it’s really the only way to punish him. The more Leonard plays with it, the more Jim’s cock tries to fill and straighten, but the cage holds it down and traps its progress. Leonard pets his way down to Jim’s balls, cups them and tugs them and rolls them in his palms while he’s blown, and Jim fidgets and moans around Leonard’s cock. When Leonard squeezes, Jim sucks, and Leonard rewards him with another squeeze. Soon Jim’s cock is bulging against the rings, and it looks so painful that Leonard actually stops, withdrawing his hands completely despite Jim’s muffled protests. Jim whines and tries to buck his hips back, but Leonard just yawns and turns away, letting Jim do the rest of the work.

Even spent and bound, underfed and over-used, Jim’s good at sucking cock. It’s one of his greatest skills, and he gives Leonard the whole bag of tricks. He worships Leonard’s cock, licking and sucking over and over again, until Leonard has to push the blankets off just to get a good look at Jim’s sinful lips stretched around him. Under the onslaught of delight, Leonard’s quickly growling and arching off the bed, darting a hand down to hold Jim’s head on. He bursts inside Jim’s mouth, but halfway through, decides Jim needs a fresh coat of paint, so he jerks Jim’s head off and lets the rest splatter Jim’s face. Jim takes it like he took all the rest: greedy and obedient and hot as hell. He doesn’t even try to move until Leonard’s spent every last drop, and then he leans down to clean Leonard off with his tongue. When Leonard lets go of Jim’s hair, Jim’s head slumps down to rest on Leonard’s thigh.

Jim’s body slumps down too, turning sideways, which gives Leonard a nice, close-up view of Jim’s crotch, the lock lolling down. If they weren’t in the year they are, and if Leonard didn’t have as much medical expertise as he does, this could be dangerous. But he knows what he’s doing, and chaining Jim up is so very fun, and they have several more hours before they’re due to depart. He gives Jim’s ass an affectionate pat, planning to get more use out of it.

But first, he needs to piss, so he shoos Jim off of him and pushes up to sit.

As he climbs out of bed, he orders, “Prepare yourself and get your gear back on.” Jim wrinkles his nose, but he’ll do it.

Leonard heads to the washroom, even though he’d like to stay and watch Jim stretch himself open all over again.

The serum’s still chugging along fine, but Leonard’s not that young any more, and the marvels of medical science can only take him so far. After another round over the coffee table in new pants but still no shirt, he decides to take an hour out of his busy fuck-a-thon. It’s half for himself and half to give Jim a chance to breathe. He puts the TV on to a comedy-reality program that has humans and Vulcans competing in various sport competitions. Given the variation in species ability, it hardly seems fair, but the humans are veracious, and they fight harder for their victories.

Leonard’s not even really watching. A chunk of his attention is on the kitchen behind him, which he listens to and periodically turns to look. With the collar and leash back on, it was easy enough to build a makeshift harness, and Leonard’s bound Jim’s arms tightly behind his back. He’s supposed to be making Leonard a snack, but with his hands as they are, the only viable way to do anything is with his mouth. He has to nose his way about the cupboards, use his face to nudge a box of crackers over, and operate a butter knife with his teeth. It takes him an absurdly long time, but Leonard doesn’t mind.

Eventually, Jim carries the tray over in his mouth, stumbling as he tries to keep it upright. The sight’s equal parts comical and attractive; even if he does look a fool, he’s having this hardship because Leonard made him, because Leonard owns him, dominates him, controls him. He slowly gets to his knees before Leonard’s feet and lowers the tray onto Leonard’s lap, nudging it forward until the ceramic rim bumps against Leonard’s stomach.

The chunks of cheese are uneven at best, indented here and there with teeth marks, and the crackers have little blots of saliva on them. It’s a cute presentation, but hardly something Leonard would eat, which he supposes he knew from the start. He gives Jim a stern look all the same and asks, “Am I supposed to eat food with your slobber all over it?”

Jim opens his mouth like he’s going to protest—he couldn’t have been expected to do any better—but then he shuts it. Leonard prods one cracker with his finger, and Jim quips, “I’m a captain, not a chef.”

Leonard looks at him sharply, and Jim tries to stifle his smirk but mostly fails. The tone wasn’t sarcastic, but Leonard knows when he’s being made fun of. As soon as Leonard glares, the grin slips off Jim’s face. For a moment, Leonard contemplates how to punish him, then remembers this is all one big punishment, and Jim’s been fucked more than a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours and hasn’t been allowed to come once.

So he forces himself to let the jibe slide—after all, Jim wouldn’t be Jim without at least a little bit of clever trouble—and he waves at the plate, sighing, “You can eat it.” Jim, the poor fool, actually looks excited at that; Leonard’s injected him with the right nutrients to keep him strong through this, but it’s not the same as real food.

He waits for only a minute before it becomes clear that Leonard’s not going to untie his hands. Then there’s nothing for it but to lean forward and eat with his mouth, like he made it, like the dog Leonard’s reduced him to. Messy as it is, Leonard still enjoys the show, and he has the computer mute the nonsense going on on the screen across the room; Jim’s far more entertaining.

Leonard pets him while he eats, strokes through his hair and pets it back, though it’s thoroughly matted with sweat and cum. Leonard lets Jim eat all the crackers and then holds his face down to have him lick the plate clean, simply because Leonard enjoys watching it, and his cock’s already filled again below the plate, pressing it urgently back up into Jim’s face. When Jim’s done, Leonard puts the plate on the coffee table and asks, “You want a drink to wash that down?”

Jim glances towards the kitchenette where his newly-filled bowl is still on the floor, but his attention’s drawn back as soon as Leonard undoes his own pants. Jim makes a groaning noise in the back of his throat, but he still leans forward to nuzzle into the bulge Leonard’s revealing, and as soon as it’s out, Jim’s licking it. He’s slower than usual, still sluggish from too-many rounds, but the determination on his face shows that he’s trying, and once Leonard’s hands are out of the way, he engulfs the hard shaft on his own. He tries to bob his head up and down, and it’s still good, always is, but Leonard fists a hand in his hair anyway and jerks him up and down properly. Jim, choking out tiny noises of distress, surrenders to Leonard’s pace, and Leonard fucks him as hard and fast as the serum allows.

Even lax as it is, Jim’s throat is tight, his mouth soft, wet, boiling hot and delicious, but halfway through Leonard decides that he really wants to thrust on this round, and he’ll break Jim’s poor face if he does. So he yanks Jim off him by the hair and tugs him up, forcing him to stumble to his feet. Grabbing his hips, Leonard spins Jim around and pulls him back onto the couch, over Leonard’s lap, facing out. His bound arms press into Leonard’s stomach, pinned between them as Leonard pulls Jim tighter in, lifts him up and holds his ass above the waiting cock below. The ring has Jim’s hole ready again, though it’s lightly squeezing and releasing, maybe in fear of the monster about to impale it. Leonard rearranges Jim’s legs first, pulled up onto the couch, spread around his lap, and takes a moment just to make sure everything’s how he wants it.

Then Jim makes a needy, wanting noise, and Leonard obligingly tugs him down, skewers him in one go. Jim’s cries nearly burst Leonard’s eardrums, but it’s worth it for the pleasure of Jim’s tight ass sinking around him. He pushes Jim down as far as he can, grinds into Jim’s body, and reaches around on instinct, only to find and realize too late that Jim’s still caged. Poor thing. Jim whimpers, desperate and pleading, slumping back into Leonard’s body, but Leonard only kisses his cheek and murmurs, “Good boy. Not yet. Just a bit longer.”

At least Jim has the TV to watch, but from the sounds Jim makes as Leonard starts to brutally fuck him, he doesn’t have the wits to pay attention. Leonard does all the work, knowing Jim’s probably lost the strength to ride him right, and he lets his hips go wild. They piston up into Jim’s plush ass, stuffing his hole full only to snap back down. Jim’s heavy, but Leonard’s strong, and once the rhythm gets going, he has Jim bouncing up and down in his lap like a rubber doll. Jim squirms and writhes and begs incoherently, and Leonard, power-hungry, is cruel enough to keep hitting the sweet spot that makes him lose control. Before long, Jim sounds near crying again, and Leonard has to bend his head back to lick his tears away and remind him, “You can always use your out. You know you have an out.”

But Jim shakes his head, chokes out a sob, and takes the beating to his ass. Leonard rewards him by pinching his nipples, rubbing them raw and hissing in his ear, “Just a little longer.”

Leonard fucks Jim in the shower, more for the delight of seeing Jim’s body wet than any real need to get clean. The water carries away the stench of their sex and some of Leonard’s remains clinging to Jim’s body, but Leonard never leaves Jim under the spray long enough to clean him off. He keeps himself under it whenever he can, because unlike Jim, he actually needs to be presentable in the immediate future. He plans on a quick meeting with Spock, and as much as he’d love to rub in the Vulcan’s face just what he’s done to their precious captain, he would never actually do that to Jim. This is something special, private between the two of them, and besides, the knowledge of Jim like this is his and his alone.

He’s not going to take another injection before he goes. He’ll probably still have a raging hard on the second he comes back to see Jim, but hopefully he’ll be able to keep it in check on the station, and in the meantime, Leonard exhausts himself as much as he can. He fucks Jim hard against the shower wall, slowing to a grind here and there to admire the way the water clings to Jim’s skin and highlights all his perfect lines and curves. Jim has a beautiful body, and Leonard’s nearly forgotten that in the high of Jim’s submission. But best of all is the way Jim cries but still tries to kiss him, loves him so much and leans in, wherever possible, to take more of Leonard’s cock. Leonard covers him in bruises, fingerprints and teeth-shaped grooves and childish hickeys, and Jim takes it all with tired but happy keening noises. Even after all the abuse, he still fits just right in Leonard’s arms.

Leonard shuts the shower off before his orgasm hits him. He lets Jim slink down to the tile floor, huddled in the base of the tub, and Leonard stands over him, pumping out another heavy release that paints Jim’s chest and face anew. By the end of it, he’s panting as hard as Jim, and he has to sit back on the tub-rim inside the shower stall, still above Jim’s slumped form.

“I’m going for a quick meeting with Spock.”

Jim’s head snaps up, eyes wide, but before he can say anything, Leonard rolls on: “When I get back, we should still have a few hours before we have to clean up and get back to the ship.” With a smirk, he adds, “Where you’ll be reporting immediately to sickbay, then a full shift of rest.”

Normally, Jim would fight that to death. It’s how they got in this situation in the first place—him wanting to do everything. But Leonard’s adamant, and Jim’s ruined, and for once, he doesn’t argue. He’ll need a checkup and some high-tech healing, and he’ll need some rest even more.

But he does lick his lips and sigh, “I suppose you’re not going to let me out of the cage.”

“No. And I’ll be taking the key with me.”

Jim’s eyes narrow in a glare, the effect somewhat ruined by the mess all over his face. Grinning fondly, Leonard bends forward to kiss Jim’s cheek, then gets back to his feet.

He smears his dick across Jim’s face and has Jim kiss it before he goes.

And when Leonard comes back, he regrets his decision to go, because he’s tired and he feels like the shower didn’t help—he’s sure he still reeks of sex—and Spock kept eyeing him strangely and talked too much, kept him too long. He’s tired but he’s still hard, and the serum—or at least, he wants to blame the serum—had him fantasizing the whole time, zoning out while staring at Spock’s stupid bow lips or imagining ordering Jim to suck his first officer off. All over not appropriate. And harrowing. By the time he’s walking back through the doors of his borrowed quarters, he just wants to sleep, except that his cock insists he finds Jim first.

Jim’s not in the living room. He’s not in the kitchenette, but of course, Leonard’s not expecting that. If Jim’s smart, he’s either taking the chance at freedom to shower or to get a good rest. Leonard heads straight for the bedroom and isn’t particularly surprised to find Jim there.

Although, he expected Jim to be curled up in the blankets, sound asleep. Instead, Jim’s sitting at the foot of the bed, like a dog that knows it’s not allowed on the furniture. He’s trembling, and he’s crying, tears streaming down his cheeks, blue eyes so watery they look twice their normal size, and it’s so rare to see the mighty James Kirk broken that far down that Leonard actually hesitates mid-step, chest clenching in guilt. Jim’s always known about his darker side, knows that he likes it rough, always liked to play along, but at the end of the day, Leonard still loves Jim with all his heart, and it hurts to see Jim in pain. These aren’t fucked-too-hard tears. They’re great, soaking things that wrack Jim’s whole body, and he’s been left alone like this for over an hour, and when he sees Leonard, he lowers to the floor in a pathetic, full body bow. He begs, “Bones, please, please, let me out of this—it’s driving me crazy—I can’t—Len, please—”

It’s still not his safe word. But it doesn’t matter. Leonard walks over and kneels down, helping lift Jim up, while Jim cries and whines and pleas, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you—I should never have gone on that stupid mission—I’m sorry, please—”

“Shh.” Brushing a hand over Jim’s hair and turning his face over, Leonard growls, “Hush. It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“No, I—”

“I’m sorry,” Leonard repeats louder, and Jim’s jaw closes. “I went too far.” Jim shakes his head, maybe disagreeing, but he’s stubborn like that and ridiculous and as far as Leonard’s concerned, the game’s over. He reaches down into the pocket of his pants, withdrawing the key, and Jim spreads his legs instantly without being told, letting Leonard reach between them to fit the key into the lock. A simply twist, and it springs open, the rings parting down the middle, easy for Leonard to gently remove. He places it aside, and more guilt twinges in him; Jim’s cock is covered in angry red lines where the bars were. It’s a little swollen, nothing he can’t fix in under a minute with sickbay’s tools, but it still shouldn’t have happened at all.

Jim babbles, “I’m sorry,” and mumbles, “You’re too hot. I love you too much. I kept getting hard, or as hard as I could, and you were just so... so relentless, and... fuck, Bones, how did you even—”

Leonard gives him a hard kiss to shut him up. They’ll talk about this, about the limits of their games, after. When Jim isn’t crying and Leonard isn’t wracked with guilt but still traitorously hard and also tired. He shouldn’t have left. That was probably the worst part, leaving Jim alone like this. That was foolish, and he can tell as much from the way Jim clings to him, fists quivering fingers in his blue tunic. He means to scoop Jim up, to bring Jim into the safety of the bed, but Jim moans instead, so prettily and right next to his ear, “Bones, please, touch me...”

Leonard grunts, “You’re unbelievable.” But Jim only croons and nuzzles into his neck, so Leonard has no hope of resisting.

He reaches between Jim’s legs, takes Jim’s limp cock in his hand, and gives it a gentle stroke with stale sweat, cum, and shower water for lube. Jim makes noises like he’s coming apart at the seams, and he clutches tighter to Leonard. Leonard means to massage Jim’s cock slowly, bring it softly to life, but it fills nearly instantly in his hand, twitching and hardening, and Jim’s hips even start to shallowly canter into his grip.

So Leonard pulls back and picks Jim up properly, scoops the shaking bundle into his arms, while Jim holds onto his shoulders. He carries Jim around the bed and lays Jim down, head in the pillows, body strewn across the sheets, the covers still kicked back. Jim looks something like an angel, albeit a thoroughly ravaged one, and reaches for Leonard, moaning, “Take me again, please.”

Leonard chuckles, “Greedy little thing, aren’t you.”

“Not little,” Jim muses, a lazy grin stretching over his lips as he pulls at Leonard’s clothes, “but you know I’m your slut, and I’m always hungry for your cock.” Already hard, Leonard’s dick twitches excitedly in his pants, and Jim’s hazy eyes fall down to it, his fingers reaching out to trace the outline.

Leonard has no choice. He can’t resist that. He climbs onto the bed, crawling over Jim, straddling and staying up, so Jim can just relax. He has to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside because it’s just too hot, and Jim mewls happily and reaches to palm Leonard’s bare chest, while Leonard fiddles with the front of his pants. As soon as he gets his cock out, Jim’s staring at it and licking his lips, though Leonard doesn’t plan on abusing those again. Not just yet.

Instead, he flattens his body as close to Jim’s as he can without crushing Jim under his weight, and he brushes his cock along Jim’s. Jim groans again, “Bones, fuck me.”

But Leonard shakes his head and mutters, “Take it easy, kid. The serum’s wearing off, anyway.” Jim’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, but Leonard, realizing his mistake, dons a quick I’ll-tell-you-later-look. Jim must’ve known something like that was involved, anyway.

If Jim’s cock were up to it, Leonard would climb onto it instead, ride it and let Jim enjoy that, but he’s not sure the poor organ could take that right now, and Jim seems content with this, pulling Leonard down and nuzzling their faces together. He gives Leonard’s mouth a few lazy pecks, while Leonard grabs their dicks together and pumps them in tandem, a little too dry but still good.

Only a few strokes in, and Jim groans, arching up into Leonard’s grip, gasping a long, drawn out version of what might be Leonard’s name. He spills in Leonard’s hand, splashing his own chest and parts of Leonard’s, hard and long. It lasts an absurdly long time, and Leonard pumps Jim through it, kissing his face and holding down his hips and guiding him over the edge. Jim’s still crying, too much for Leonard to keep up and kiss all the tears away, but Leonard tries all the same. For what seems like a small, blissful eternity, Leonard’s world is just milking out Jim’s pleasure, sweetly kissing Jim’s face and murmuring, “Good boy...” and, “My beautiful captain...” and, “I love you,” into Jim’s ear. When Jim tires to answer, the words don’t make any sense, but he understands the sentiment all the same.

And then Jim’s spent, wiping at his own tears and still shuddering and panting for air. It takes a long while for his body to still, and his crying subsides. He scrubs at his own cheeks and murmurs, “Love you so much.” Leonard kisses his forehead, knowing that.

But Jim, insane, wild Jim, finishes cleaning off his face to insist, like he’s on the bridge and in charge again, “Take me again, please.”

Leonard actually laughs. He has to, but Jim finds the strength to glare, though it looks more like a pout, and he insists hoarsely, “You’re still hard. I’m still yours. Take me again.” He has the nerve to push at Leonard’s stomach, moving Leonard back enough to untangle his own legs and reach them around Leonard’s waist, ass nestled up against Leonard’s clothed thighs. “Just come in me while I can react, Bones.” Jim’s hole is still wantonly open, stretched like a grand invitation, and from the way it’s dribbling out the bottom, Jim probably applied more lube while Leonard was gone. He looks at Leonard with such determination that it’s impossible for Leonard to refuse.

So he takes his hard cock in his hands, presses it between Jim’s cheeks, and slides slowly inside, slick and smooth but nonetheless cautious. Jim wraps his arms around Leonard’s shoulders like holding on for dear life, kisses him on the mouth and moans into him, hips weakly trying to buck into him.

Leonard still does the work. He settles into Jim’s body, takes a moment to appreciate how wonderful it still is, and slowly pulls back out. When he pushes in, Jim tosses his head back and whines in delight. His legs, wrapped around Leonard’s waist, urge Leonard back in. It’s all Leonard can do to keep control; it’s just as good as the first time he ever took Jim’s prone body.

But this time, he takes it slow, careful, and he makes love instead of fucks, fills Jim gently, slides along Jim’s prostate, eases half out and lets himself be drawn back in. He pets Jim’s face with his hands, kisses it over and over and murmurs, “I love that you’re always so desperate for me, you beautiful creature.” Jim grins broadly like he wants to laugh, but doesn’t have the energy. Leonard goes on praising, “You’re such a sweet whore, so perfect for me. I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

“Good,” Jim manages. His eyelids are drooping, pupils so dilated that his eyes look black instead of blue, his cheeks all flushed pink. He belongs on display as much as in a brothel, but mostly just in Leonard’s bed. Leonard can feel the serum dying down, leaving just the slow-burn of the usual adoration in his veins, but it’s enough to push him through, keep him rocking into Jim at a gradual, intimate pace. Jim’s cock starts to harden beneath his stomach surprisingly quickly, though it doesn’t get too far, and Leonard doesn’t dare touch it for fear of stroking it raw. Jim seems content to stay as he is, limp and spent and being worshipped.

And eventually it’s too much, the pleasure of Jim’s body and the weight of Jim’s words and emotions, and Leonard shivers in delight, washing over the edge. He spills his last load into Jim’s rear, staying inside as he plugs it full, and in the middle of it, Jim’s cock splutters against his chest, scattering a few light jets in with the last round. It takes Leonard far longer to finish, and even longer than that to move. This is one of those moments that he would freeze forever if he could, hold in his pocket to remember that life is wonderful.

But his knees and arms can’t hold out forever, and he does have to pull out. Jim whines as he goes, but that’s all Leonard’s got, and he doubts either of them could last another round. Too overheated for blankets and too exhausted to even deal with the lights, Leonard settles beside Jim in the sheets, so full of love that he doesn’t want to close his eyes. Jim softly pets Leonard’s body, simply making contact everywhere he can, and he breathes, “You’re amazing.” Which just makes Leonard chuckle, because he used medical science, and Jim’s the one that survived on stamina alone.

He grunts, “I’m getting too old for this.” And that’s it; that’s the last out of him. Jim smiles fondly but looks just as close to falling asleep. They’re both panting so heavily that it’s a wonder any air is left in the room.

Even with all the injections, Leonard falls asleep first, with Jim snuggling into his arms and whispering promises of love.