DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2002 by Cheree Cargill. This story is Rated NC-17.
RETURN TO TOMORROW: THE PERSISTENCE OF MEMORY
Stardate: 4769.1, First Officer Spock recording.
I saw it all in her mind, what he ... I ... had done to her. She does not remember it ... yet. It is locked in her subconscious, buried deep, but the memory is there nevertheless. At some point, it will erupt and her grief and anger will be dreadful.
He ... I ... no, he violated her, used her. I will not own to that deed, even though it was my body he used as a tool. I was violated as well. I suffered rape as surely as she, but she will pay the most terrible price for it. I have the Disciplines to fall back upon, to confront and eradicate the emotional demons that haunt me. She has no such thing upon which to rely.
Will she perceive that I was defiled, too? I can fully understand if she cannot. After all, when she remembers the assault, it will be my body that molests hers, my voice that murmurs in her ear, my face that presses close. I can only apologize that I, myself, was not there to stop the assault. It will seem the height of hypocrisy and mockery to her, but it is all that I can say.
I simply had no idea what he was doing as he inhabited my body, or even what he was capable of doing. Not until I suddenly found myself back in a body that was not my own, sharing it with the woman whose life seems so inevitably intertwined with my own. Moreso now. Not only did we share consciousness but the dark memory I uncovered has now bound us in other ways as well.
I must relate it here in detail. It is necessary to purge it from my soul, to face it, confront it, negate its power over me. Only then can I help Christine deal with the time when it will surely gush forth in all its horror.
I saw it clearly through her eyes. It was a curiously flat memory, one devoid of emotion on her part, for Henoch had her completely controlled throughout. She was an impassive observer to her own rape, as if it were nothing more than a holoplay. I can only be thankful that it occurred in my cabin instead of hers. How could she bear to be alone there in her quarters if it had happened in her private space? Her sense of personal safety would be completely destroyed, I'm sure, if such a thing has not already occurred. But at least she can feel marginally safe in her cabin, a small haven in which to retreat.
And how will she bear to look at me again, when it is my face that will hover over hers in her nightmares. How will I bear to see myself in the memory of her mind's eye?
It is so clear, the picture I see. She watches me sit on the edge of my bed and run my eyes over her form.
"It has been so long since I saw a female," my voice says, sounding odd as Henoch's possession affects my vocal chords. "I want to see you fully. Take your clothing off now."
Christine moves to obey, her viewpoint shifting down to her feet as she sits in a chair and removes her boots. Then she stands again and her gaze comes back to rest on Henoch's ... my face, where a lascivious grin is pulling the mouth wide.
She reaches to unfasten the seam of her uniform and then pulls it over her head, following this by undoing the undershorts and allowing them to drop to her feet. She steps out of them, leaving her clad only in bra, panties and tights. Her eyes are still fixed on Henoch, who is watching her intently.
Her hands go to the waistband of her tights, hooking her thumbs inside and skinning them down over her hips and long legs, pulling them off and dropping them with her other clothing. Without pausing, she reaches up between her breasts to a clasp on her bra and the garment parts, her breasts springing free. I can feel their weight, familiar to her but strange to me, as they bounce very slightly. Seemingly out of habit, she cups them in her hands and massages them for a few seconds, rubbing where the bra has left its mark on her flesh.
I can see Henoch's eyes light up at the sight. Christine's hands move down to her panties and her last piece of raiment falls to the floor.
"Delightful," Henoch says as his eyes rove over her naked form. He rises from the bed and comes to circle her, inspecting her thoroughly. "Beautiful."
The heat in my cabin is causing perspiration to form on Christine's body. I can feel sweat beginning to trickle between her breasts and down her stomach. Her whole body seems moist.
I feel my fingers touch her skin, trailing down her spine to the cleft of her buttocks. Deep within, she wants to shudder but cannot.
"So beautiful ... soft," Henoch's voice whispers in her ear. He moves to stand before her, reaching up to caress a breast, fingertips lingering on her nipple. "Intriguing," he says, rolling first it and then the other beneath the pad of his index finger. "It distends when I touch it! What is the purpose of this action?"
Christine answers in an almost disinterested voice. "To nurse babies, although it is also a sign of sexual arousal."
"Excellent!" Henoch laughs, tweaking and pulling at her nipples for a minute more, observing them swell and harden. "Do you become aroused this way often? Does Spock do this to arouse you?"
I can feel her confusion and the strange twinge of excitement at the idea. "No ... he never..."
"But you wish him to, don't you, my dear?" Henoch whispers, leaning close. "You dream of it, feeling him touch you like this, don't you?"
Her eyes close, blocking out the sight of my face. "...yes ... yes," she finally answers.
"Where else do you wish him to touch you?" Henoch questions in the same silken tone. "Tell me where to touch you."
"...bet-- between my legs..." she answers.
Henoch slips his fingers ... my fingers between the lips of her vulva and she jumps involuntarily as the caress slides over her clitoris. "What is this?" Henoch asks and bends out of sight. I feel Christine's distress as he spreads and inspects her most private parts.
At last he straightens, examining the wetness on his fingers, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "Is this supposed to occur?"
"Yes," she responds woodenly. "It lubricates the penetration of the penis into the vagina."
"Ahhh. And how does that take place?"
"The penis becomes erect with stimulation."
Henoch looks down at his crotch and feels of himself. "I do not seem to be ready to penetrate you. How would you help Spock attain this erect state?"
"I would ... would touch him," she says faintly.
"Touch him where?"
Christine swallows. "On his penis. I would open his pants and stroke his penis until he became hard."
"Do so then," he instructs her and steps back to allow her access to him.
For a few seconds, Christine doesn't move then I can feel Henoch compel her. She goes down on her knees and reaches for the fly of his pants, opening them. She pushes them down and then, her hands trembling, reaches to do the same with my underwear.
I must pause here for a moment before I can go on. My emotional state must be strengthened before I can continue. Computer, stop recording.
* * *
Computer, continue log entry from last point. I have meditated and can now go on with my report...
Christine lowers the briefs and exposes my genitals. She has seen them before, but only in a clinical situation. Nothing like this ... for either of us.
But Henoch is plainly fascinated. Christine reaches and softly strokes her fingertips down the length of my penis, then rakes her nails lightly up the underside. Henoch gasps audibly and his eyes widen, even as the organ gives a twitch in response. Christine rings the shaft with her hand and pumps with a slight pressure.
Rapidly erection occurs and Henoch staggers. He pulls away a little and sits back on the bed, bracing himself on his arms. He is breathing heavier and his face has flushed green. He is now nearly fully erect, his penis thrusting like a thick pole out of his groin.
"Remarkable!" he comments, grinning in a dazed manner. "The physiological changes transpiring in this body! My race has nothing quite like this! What happens next? Is this body ready to penetrate yours?"
Christine's gaze drops to the firm sexual organ, then she says, "No. It is still not hard enough."
Henoch's eyes narrow and he leers. "What would you do to fully prepare Spock for this? Make me hard enough."
Obediently, Christine moves closer and bends over the distended member. Again she fights it, hesitating. "What will you do, Christine?" Henoch hisses. "Tell me what you would do to Spock."
"S-suck him," she says in a whisper.
"What?" Henoch looks puzzled but interested.
"T-take him in my mouth and stimulate him that way."
Henoch's breathing deepens again. "Do so!" he commands.
Christine's gaze drops to focus on my penis and she grasps the shaft firmly, then closes her eyes against the sight. But her mouth goes unerringly to cover the head and I experience the act from her point of view. I cannot say how it feels to Henoch. I do not touch his mind and no one has ever performed such an act on me. I cannot even imagine it. Yet I know that humans find it pleasurable. I have heard comments in passing that indicate so by both sexes. Once I overheard two female crewmen as they stared pointedly at a tall, well-built male officer.
"Man," one said to the other. "Would I ever love to get that in my mouth!"
"Yum!" replied her companion rather ferally, smacking her lips.
And I once puzzled over a comment Dr. McCoy made to Jim. They were discussing a woman they had encountered on shore leave. "Lord have mercy!" the doctor had said with a blissful smile on his face. "That woman could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch!"
I didn't know what he meant then but learned later on. It rather revolted me that a woman (or man, as some are inclined) would be willing and even eager to take an organ of elimination into their mouths. But then, I never expected to have such a practice performed on me!
Now I experience it fully from Christine's point of view. By human standards, I am considered marginally well-endowed, something I learned in my first days at Starfleet Academy, when I was shocked to discover that human males routinely compare the size of their genitals in locker room showers. It mortified me to be scrutinized so openly until I learned to simply ignore it.
But this is something entirely. I cannot ignore what Christine is being forced to do. I feel the spongy texture of the head of my penis filling her mouth. I taste the coppery bitterness of my secretions. I smell the mustiness of my skin and wonder if Henoch has bothered to bathe since he took over my body. Christine does not find the scent pleasant and I am embarrassed to be in such a state.
She begins to work her tongue and press the glans against the roof of her mouth, generating suction. I hear Henoch groan loudly and feel my penis swell and stiffen to full arousal in Christine's hand. Salty liquid seeps onto her tongue and she swallows involuntarily.
"Stop!" Henoch commands suddenly and Christine releases him, sitting passively back on her heels, gazing up at him. I can see his penis is enormously engorged, wet with her saliva, throbbing with near-climax. Henoch does not look well. He is panting heavily, his face mottled green. "Wait! I must gain control of this body. The metabolism is too high!" He struggles then says, "Give me the injection now. This body is burning itself out."
Obedient to his commands, Christine rises and retrieves the hypospray marked for Henoch, returning to the bed and injecting it against his neck.
He moves up to lie flat on the mattress, his pants still obscenely open, his erection rigid and dribbling pre-ejaculate down its length. Christine stands passively, waiting, unable to move. After a few minutes, Henoch takes a deep breath and looks up at her.
"I believe I am hard enough now," he says in a dark, dangerous voice. "I wish to penetrate you. How is best to accomplish this?"
"The most common position is with the woman on her back with her legs spread," Christine intones. "The man lies on top of her and inserts his penis into her vagina, then moves his hips vigorously back and forth until orgasm occurs."
"I do not believe this body would withstand that. What other ways are there?"
"The man lies on his back and the woman settles astride him, inserting the penis," she replies. "The woman moves until orgasm occurs."
"That sounds acceptable. Proceed."
Unable to resist his command, Christine climbs onto the bed and kneels, throwing one leg over his hips. Grasping his stiff organ, she holds it steady and then sinks down upon it.
Through her memories, I feel the sudden intrusion and know the fullness and pressure. I am surprised at the heat she feels as my erection fills her. I wonder if she seems correspondingly cool to Henoch.
And something else ... as she begins to move atop him, thrusting her hips back and forth in a steady rhythm, her mind whispers, Spock... Oh, Spock... I cannot discern her meaning. Is she pleading with me to stop this? Accusing me of her assault? Or expressing her long-held fantasy of having sex with me? I am, of course, aware of her feelings for me. Sharing her consciousness, I cannot help but be aware of them. Her fantasies unnerve me, romantic and shockingly erotic. Henoch was correct. She has dreamed of coming to me and giving herself to me sexually, of doing with me exactly what she is doing with Henoch.
But not like this. Never like this.
I want to tell her, "Christine, I'm sorry. I am so sorry. For this, for my inability to return your love, for the pain I continue to heap upon you. But I cannot love. I am a Vulcan and love is an emotion we are forbidden to know."
She feels no such emotion for Henoch. She rocks mechanically upon him, her mind nearly blank. He, however, pinned beneath her, is undergoing a transformation. His face has darkened again and he seems to be in pain. He grips the bedspread with both hands, his breath rasping through his open mouth.
Then suddenly his eyes fly wide open and he cries out, his hips lifting underneath hers. Christine halts her motion, feeling hot liquid spurt into her deepest parts. It lasts for several long seconds, then Henoch collapses beneath her, panting. The experience seems almost too much for him to withstand, but eventually he recovers.
"Even thousands of years ago, I never knew anything like that," he says breathlessly. "I am most stimulated by this action! We will do this again ... but not just yet. I must allow this body time to recover. Too much of this would destroy this body of Spock's. I want you to show me everything you would do to stimulate him and what you would have him do to you."
He reaches up and grasps her bare shoulders, pulling her close to his face. "I will tell you a secret, my dear," he whispers. "I like this body Spock has given me. I intend to keep it. Eventually, you will forget that he ever inhabited it and come to love me as you do him. And together we will find many, many ways to experience penetration."
He abruptly yanks her down and kisses her hard. It hurts Christine's lips and she tries to resist, but he is too strong. He holds her firmly and then releases her. "Now it is time for you to go back to your duties," Henoch says. "I do not want to arouse suspicion. Dress yourself once more and leave me. I will come for you when it is time for another injection."
Still moving like an automaton, Christine dismounts and stands, bending to pick up her clothes and put them back on. She feels uncomfortable ... sweaty and sticky, but Henoch does not allow for any hesitation. Her feet take her out of my cabin and into the corridor leading to sick bay.
The memory fades away into other things, more mundane and meaningless. I never knew at the time what he had done to her. I was trapped in the oblivion of pure mentality, floating in my receptacle as in a warm sea. Only when Thalassa transferred my essence into Christine's body did I know and take action to bury her violation deeper in her subconscious.
I must prepare myself and then prepare her before I go back in and release it. She must not be taken unawares by it, alone and at its mercy. It is the only way I can make amends for what was done to her. It is the only way I can see to help her cope with the knowledge that the man she loves has betrayed her.
It is the only way I can look at myself in the mirror and not see Henoch laughing back at me.