DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of T'Ryl and is copyright (c) 2003 by T'Ryl. Rated R.



Whatever It Takes

T'Ryl



Pacing nervously in his quarters, he knew he could deny his feeling no longer. However, he had an emotion blocking him from asking Christine to be his bondmate and wife -- fear, the one emotion that kept his wall of reserve tightly intact. Christine Chapel was a beautiful vibrant female ... a HUMAN female with needs he could not satisfy completely. Being Vulcan, he could only prove his masculinity once every seven years. Only during pon farr was a Vulcan males capable of the necessary arousal it would take to 'make love' as his human friends had termed it.

How, he wondered, did his father handle it with his mother? They had been married for 40.71 years. He could not imagine his mother would've remained so content if her husband was only able to partake in sex six times during their marriage.

It came to him, a memory from his childhood, a small wooden box hidden under their bed. He remembered looking at a tiny Aun woo, a hard rubber cylinder with a oddly shaped cap, another smaller cylinder that made a vibration movement when touched, a sweet fruity cream that tasted as good as it smelled, and a holotape. It wasn't until years later he learned what was on the tape. His cheeks still burned from the memory. His father used sexual toys to keep his mother pleased.

Before he decided to approach, Christine he wanted to be prepared. Using the replicator he replicated the necessary items to get his message across. Once he had the four items of choice, he checked the whereabouts of the ship's only female doctor. The fifth he would get from the ship's supply department. Relieved he should find her alone in her cabin, he placed his items in a box and set off on his quest. Today he would shed that last brick, allowing his walls to crumble down.

* * *

Christine sat at her desk, ready for bed, finishing up some logs. Her non-regulation fiery red teddy showed more of her body than needed for a single woman who hadn't entertained the notion of being sexual in years. It was just she liked the way the material felt against her skin. That and in the back of her mind, she hoped one night she would be given a reason to wear it.

Deep in thought, she didn't hear the chime when it first beckoned. Again, it rang out, waking her from her thoughts. With a sigh she said, "Come" forgetting her state of dress or rather underdress. She gave a start, looking up to see Spock standing in her doorway, holding a box, his eyebrow set deep in his hairline. Checks became rosy with a natural blush as she realized what he was looking at. With a deep breath, she told him, "Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to come in?"

She was dying to know why he came to visit her. It was something he just didn't do.

After he cleared his throat, he moved into the room, only enough to allow the door to close behind him. "D..." No, formality would not do. "Christine, I need to know something of you."

Her face didn't even try to hide the shock at him using her first name instead of the more formal titles he normally did. "Yes?" she asked, her inquisitiveness getting the better of her.

"Do you still love me?" he asked bluntly.

What!? Do I still love you? she thought to herself. The only answer she knew to be true was, "Yes, heaven help me I do."

He moved in closer to her. "I am pleased to hear this. However, do you love me enough to be able to be close to me, with the fact I am as a human would term 'impotent' save every seventh year of my life?"

She had never considered that, but if his mother could live with it, she was sure she could as well. It wasn't as if she hadn't abstained from sex before. When Roger was lost, she didn't ... couldn't have sex with another man. Nevertheless, she also wondered how she could lie by him, wanting him, knowing he could not fill her with himself. With a sigh she admitted, "I am not sure. I DO love you. However, being close to you, sharing your bed without sharing you, I can see that would be torture."

"Christine, have you wondered how my father keeps my mother happy? I didn't realize it myself until tonight." He moved to her desk and upturned the box he had brought, spilling the contents onto it.

Christine looked in shock at the items scattered on her desk, a dildo that even contained a strap, a small leather whip with nine tiny braids, a small egg shaped object that danced on its own across her desk, a clear bottle of pink jelly like substance, and a holo recorder. Her mouth gaped open as she stared in wonderment of the objects. Yes, they would definitely be a plus in a relationship that both parties would find sexual release every seven years. "OH!"

He smiled slightly, as he spoke again. "Would they suit your needs, as I can obtain more if need be?"

"What? More, oh, no, I think these would ... um, do their intended job quite nicely," she told him, her face now quite red.

"Good .. .now I would like to test their effectiveness ... that is, if you know of a willing partner," he told her as he moved behind her. Slowly he placed a finger under the thin strap of her gown, pausing to assure she would be willing.

Easing her head onto his chest, she looked up into his eyes, nodding. She was too numb with glee to speak.

With her nod, he continued to move the strap, until he looked at the holo recorder. Moving away, he surveyed the room for a place to set the instrument. With a slight smile, he looked at a shelf that was neither too low nor too high and was far enough away from the bed to capture everything that would happen. Perching the recorder and hitting record, he moved back to Christine, guiding her to the bed. He made sure all his tools were within arm's reach.

Again, he took to the task of voiding her of clothing. He took lengths to bring her clothing down in a fashion that would give her an idea of what he was still capable of. His teeth raked her shoulders, as his hot mouth caused goose bumps on her skin. Soon she sat before him in the only other outfit that could not be removed, her birthday suit. He gazed up and down her length, considering what should be his first line of action. He decided to allow his hand to be his guide, whatever was the first object he touched would be were he would begin.

As his hand hit the desk, he felt a leathery strap of the wonil-zehl whip. Grasping it, he brought it to them, watching the way Christine's eyes widened; he found a definite pleasure in the thought of bringing the whip down onto her skin. Not too hard, but in areas that were bound to cause more pleasure than pain.

The tiny whip crossed her back and buttocks, causing her to moan in pleasure. More, she wanted more. "Harder," she demanded. To which her lover gladly obeyed. In her wildest dreams, she never thought she would enjoy such treatment, but it sent near climatic flashes through her entire body. His lips would drown her reddened skin with soothing kisses.

At the point her breathing became rapid and labored, he moved on to the next object within his reach. His hand felt the dildo, but before he could react the egg shaped vibrator moved to his hand. Closing it within his hand tightly, he brought it to her body. First, using his closed hand he moved down the sensitive hills of her chest. Circling one with his hand and the other his lips. Again, her soft moans of pleasure fueled his desire to please her. Moving his hand down he left his lips to continue their work. There among her thighs he found the exact stop that caused her to grip his hair tightly.

Waves of sheer ecstasy washed through her body, as the small metal egg moved and shuttered against her sex. She never felt such pleasure without natural skin against her in her life. For someone that was incapable of performing he definitely knew what he was doing.

When he moved his mouth off her skin, he looked into her eyes. "There are only two items left to test," he said as he looked to the table taking the bottle of pink liquid. Drizzling it over her body, allowing the bulk to cascade like a falls between her thighs. His hand still placed against her sex, he moved it just enough to allow the taste of the rich watermelon flavor.

This action proved almost to much as Christine bucked her hips, mixing her own juices with those of the cold liquids.

Ah, the added taste drove him to act in more of a needful manner. He with his actions had been able to drive her to the point of climax.

"Oh, God, Spock, please finish me now!" she cried, her voice cracking with the strain of her pleasure.

Instantly he replied, drinking in one last bit of sweet nectar. He discarded his tools and picked up the sutor-lok dildo, considered its uses and decided he wanted the feeling of being within her. Mounting it over him, he moved again down to her. Guiding her to a position that would allow him to lock eyes with her, he moved past her outer walls into her chamber, all the time wondering how her cool skin would feel against his hotter flesh. His lips repeatedly captured her as the force of his movement rocked her to him and away again. "Christine," he murmured into her mouth. Even his own heart and breathing now raced.

"Spock," she replied gripping his calves with her hands, pressing him tight to her body. If this was ALL he had to give, it was more than enough for her.

He only stopped when her looks of please turned to looks of pain. He had managed to 'love' her so completely her natural lubrication had dried. Moving away from her he told her, "That Christine is WHAT I AM capable of outside my time. Would it be enough for you?"

Sill breathing erratically, she told him, "It would most definitely keep me entertained enough."



FIN

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