Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of the Paramount Corporation. No copyright is intended by this not-for-profit work of fanfiction. This story is copyright © 2000 by Nocturnius and Kiristeen ke Alaya and may not be posted, copied, reproduced, archived or distributed anywhere without our express written consent. This story is rated NC17 for explicit language and sexual situations. If you are under 18, do not read this. Come back when you are a legal adult!

The X Effect

Nocturnius and Kiristeen ke Alaya

Spock strode down the corridor towards McCoy's quarters. It seemed illogical for the doctor to insist on handwriting information, but he had learned long ago that arguing with McCoy was usually next to useless. He would simply acquire the data he needed and be on his way. McCoy wasn't expecting him, but he'd been unable to reach him by comm. That was unusual. However, the doctor was on three days leave time, declaring that he needed a break even if he had to take it on the ship. Kirk was amused but granted his request readily. The Enterprise was on a routine mapping expedition. Nothing had even come close to happening for four days. Everyone was bored. Even Spock.

As he neared McCoy's room, Spock's acute Vulcan hearing picked up on the faint sounds of moans. He tilted his head, puzzled. There was a muffled male scream. Fearing it was McCoy, Spock raced into action. As he ran to the door he called out: "Computer! Override privacy lock! Authorization: Spock, Alpha Omega Seven!"

The door slid open, and Spock rushed in.

McCoy lay on the bed, wearing a blue terrycloth robe. On his vidscreen was the image of a man and woman in the act of physical intercourse. The woman was astride the man, and the man was moaning as she swayed and ground against him, pendulous tan breasts rocking from side to side.

McCoy leaped up, holding his robe tightly to him, eyes wide and blazing. "WHAT IN THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS, SPOCK?" he shouted as the door slid shut.

For once in his life, Spock of Vulcan was at a loss for words. "I… I deeply apologize, doctor. My hearing detected a scream… I feared you were injured." His face was turning a deeper green.

"How could you just… oh, hell, Spock. I'm glad you were worried about me. You just really scared me!!"

"I am sorry, doctor."

McCoy sighed. "Well, now you know. I'm not ashamed of it or anything… just never expected to have someone find out like this." He smiled. "Even though Jim and I trade tapes, we do it in private."

"Am I to infer, doctor, that the captain also engages in this… activity?" Spock flicked an incredulous glance at the screen, where the couple were still engaged in the act. Now the woman was making all sorts of animalistic sounds. It was disgusting.

McCoy laughed. "Of course he does, Spock. He's human with a normal sex drive. A LOT of people on board this ship probably do. Not you, of course."

"Of course," Spock said coolly.

"Wanna check it out?" McCoy gestured at a chair. "I was just on my way to see Scotty and get some Glenlivet."

"Doctor, I have no desire whatsoever to indulge in--"

"OOO!!! Yeah! Give it to me, you dirty boy!"

Spock and McCoy both turned to look at the movie. The woman was speaking to the man now in a breathless, husky voice.

"You want me to ride you hard, you no-good fuck? Put that big cock all the way in me!! Do it!! I want to feel all of it! Deeper! Let me ride that cock! Oooo!! Now touch me!"

McCoy laughed at Spock's expression. "Tell you what, Spock. Just stay here 'til I get back from Scotty's. Five minutes, tops. Then I'll get whatever you need."

"Doctor McCoy--"

But McCoy had already left.

Spock paced the room. To stop the video would be rude, since it did not belong to him. Of course, it was rude of McCoy to have left it running; but he was obviously drunk and not thinking clearly.

"Come on, baby!! Harder!! I want to feel you filling my pussy with that monster cock!"

Spock shook his head. What possible enjoyment could ANY sentient being get out of this sort of thing?!

His eyes were involuntarily drawn to the flashing shifts in colors. The woman showed no signs of stopping her actions or her dialogue.

"Take me! Make me come! Grab my ass, baby! Squeeze me! Uhhh! Ahh!"

As she moaned and groaned Spock became aware of a strange sensation. A warmth came over his groin. To his horror he felt the beginnings of an erection.

'No…!' his mind cried in revulsion.

"OOOO! I wanna eat you up!! I wanna eat your huge cock with my pussy! My pussy is so hungry for you!"

His penis grew harder.

He shook his head fiercely. But the more she talked, the more aroused he became, until finally he was staring trembling at the screen, fully erect.

The door slid open. Spock quickly turned as McCoy came in. "OK, Spock, what can I do for you?" He asked as he put the whiskey bottle down on the bed.

"I… do not require anything at present, doctor. I apologize again for disturbing you."

"OOOOO! Suck my tits! Lick my nipples!" the woman gasped.

Spock swallowed hard. "I must go." Without another word he turned and fled McCoy's quarters.

McCoy sat down on the bed, pondering. As realization dawned on him, an enormous grin lit up his face. "Well, I'll be dammed. That green-blooded iceberg was getting turned on by that woman talking trash." His smile got bigger as a wicked thought came to him. "And I know somebody who might be able to take advantage of that and get Spock to loosen up!"

McCoy stared at the closed door incredulously. He would never have believed it, and if Spock's reaction just now was any indication neither did he. He grinned. Now, he just had to figure out a way to pass on this information without it looking like he was doing it on purpose. It came to him in a flash. After all the fuss he'd made about needing time off, Christine was sure to follow him to his office if he showed up all of a sudden. He hurriedly dressed. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd shown up in sickbay in only a robe, but he didn't want to give the impression it was some kind of emergency.

Less than 10 minutes later, he strode into Sickbay. He noted as he made a beeline for his office that she had looked up. Just as he slipped inside, he saw her begin to move. He moved quickly behind his desk, acting for all the world like he was recording a log entry.

* * *

What was he doing here? Christine watched him move directly to his office. She frowned and moved to follow him in. "...don't think Spock realizes I noticed, but it was fairly obvious to me that the...adult movie, that I'd left running when I'd left him in my quarters had had a considerable affect on him."

McCoy hesitated, catching a hint of blue out of the corner of his eye. "I don't think he appreciated the fact that it did. It doesn't surprise me though. Language is one of his fortes, that the low down, explicit language of a porno movie might affect him, is only...'logical'." He caught a second glimpse of blue and knew she'd moved away. He'd set the ball in motion. Now all he had to do was set the scene and he knew just the two to help him out. They had made a couple of tapes for him before and he knew they'd get a thrill out of this too. Waiting a few more minutes, just to be on the safe side, he then stood and left his office, not even bothering to glance around as he exited sickbay.

Christine's thoughts were a tangled mixture of confusion and excitement. What in the world was Leonard talking about? Spock, watching an adult movie? And being aroused by it? How could it be possible? But apparently it was. And why had he run out so fast without a word to her or anyone else?

She sighed. It was almost cruel of him to tease her that way, recording information like that in her presence. It wasn't as though she could just go up to Spock and start talking dirty to him. For one thing, he would know that Leonard had told her, which would be a betrayal of trust between them. Second, she couldn't… she didn't have the nerve. What if Leonard had misread the situation and the only thing Spock did was have her put in the brig for conduct unbecoming an officer and sexual harassment? She sighed again, turning back to the PADD she had been writing on. Whatever Leonard was doing, she had work to do.

McCoy, too, had figured out that he couldn't come right out and tell Christine what he'd learned. That's why he knew he had to set things up very carefully. He felt a small stab of guilt for doing it, but pushed it aside. After all, he was only putting the wheels in motion. It wasn't like Spock would be forced or even coerced into anything. He would simply set up the right conditions. It would be up to Spock to accept or reject them. But McCoy had a feeling that Spock wasn't quite as super-Vulcan as he wanted everyone to think. More than once, in sickbay, he'd caught a glimpse of Spock looking at Christine with a soft expression in his eyes. And now that the whole mess of the pon farr and T'Pring was over, there was nothing to keep Spock away from Christine but his inhibitions and reserve. And if those two things were removed, even temporarily, he might give Christine a chance.

McCoy chuckled to himself. "I'm a real matchmaker, all right," he said aloud. He hurried back to his quarters.

Once there, he opened a screen on his comm station. He sat down and wrote a quick letter. Not many details. Just the time, place, circumstances, and the amount of money he was willing to pay. He sent the message to Donner and Thomas, coded private. Then he sat back to wait.

He didn't have to wait long. Thomas was off-duty and within an hour he had a reply. They accepted. All he had to do was pay them when he got the tape. They knew he was good for it. It sounded a little crazy, but since they could lock the door they had no problem with it. They hoped he'd enjoy it.

"Not half as much as I hope Spock does," McCoy grinned.

Now he just had to figure out how to get both Spock and Christine into the meditation room of the arboretum at the right time. He congratulated himself on the perfection of his idea. In the meditation room they could see out, but no one else could see in. Donner and Thomas would never know they were there. And they would be wearing masks, so Spock and Christine would not know whom they were watching. Plus the two worked in Stellar Cartography, a place neither Spock nor Christine had any work-related reason to visit. His final problem would be figuring out how to sabotage the sound panel in the meditation room so that Donner and Thomas' voices would be heard. But he was sure he could figure that out. A pulled wire here, a removed chip there… he'd call up the schematics on the computer. It would be easy.

He helped himself to a small glass of Glenlivet with a contented sigh. "I just love it when a plan comes together."

* * *

Spock strode through the corridors. He had only the task he had agreed to complete for Dr. McCoy and he was finished for the day. He did not believe it would take long, it was a simple task really. He had told McCoy he would assign a person to the task, but McCoy had been most insistent that he wanted it done right the first time. While he could understand that desire, his staff was efficient. It would not have mattered who he assigned; it would have gotten done right. However he had learned over the years that it was often best to simply 'humor' the good doctor. It was more...peaceful that way. The arboretum was empty when he entered and as he strode across the carefully cultivated grass, he could not help but be reminded of Earth. Of course, that had been the designers' intentions.

A faint sound from directly ahead caught his attention. If someone was currently using the meditation room, he would have to delay completing the doctor's task. He approached the closed door and reached up to press the chime. To his surprise, the door opened before he completed the gesture. "Miss Chapel?" he said in surprise.

"Mr. Spock. You're right on time. I've done all I can alone, the rest of this will require two people."

His eyebrow shot to his hairline. "Dr. McCoy neglected to mention it would be a 'two person job'."

Christine frowned and blew out a sigh. "I'm gonna kill him," she muttered under her breath.

"Miss Chapel, I hardly think committing homicide, will help matters."

"You'd be surprised," she retorted. "But I suppose you're right."

"I would say so. Perhaps we should simply begin the work." The two bent to the task before them. Spock frowned as they worked side by side. This, while indeed it was something that required two sets of hands to complete, hardly required the specialized knowledge of either himself or Miss Chapel. He began to grow suspicious of the good doctor's motivations. He said nothing of it, however. He knew that to do so, would simply...make matters worse. He was sure that if she realized that the doctor had 'arranged' this to make him uncomfortable, it would...hurt her feelings.

"I think there's something wrong with the acoustics in here."

"Pardon me, Miss Chapel?"

"This room is supposed to be sound proofed."

Spock stopped immediately. "I was unaware of that."

"Don't tell me you can't hear the sounds?"

"No, I can. I was unaware that I should not be able to."

They both rose, crossing toward the door. Christine glanced out through the glass, her mouth opening in a soundless, 'Oh!'. And without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Spock's arm, pulling him back from the door.

"Miss Chapel!" Spock responded, pulling his arm from her grasp. "What do you think you are doing?"

"We don't want to go out there," she whispered fiercely, and he curiously watched a slow blush crawl its way up her cheeks.

"Why ever not?" he asked, and followed her aborted glance out the one way glass. His eyes widened and he quickly turned his back on the...unexpected and revealing view. "I see your point," he acknowledged quietly to a very pink nurse. "They are not exhibiting very appropriate behavior for Starfleet Officers," he remarked taking refuge in regulations and tried to ignore the voices outside the supposedly soundproofed room. Unfortunately they were getting more and more difficult to ignore as the volume rose.

"It happens all the time," Christine murmured, not looking over at Spock.

"Surely not."

"Well, it's usually a more out of the way place," she said, then her blush deepened. "Or so I've heard."

"I do not believe it to be appropriate."

Christine laughed, sending his eyebrow back up again.

"May I ask what you find...amusing about this...situation?"

"I was just wondering if you planned on marching out there, demanding to know their identities so you could put them on report."

"Indeed," Spock said, wondering how he managed to find himself in this utterly preposterous situation. Turning to see if perhaps they had moved, allowing the two of them to pass unnoticed, he weighed his options carefully. They hadn't.

He caught a glimpse of a masked man and woman, bare from the waist up. He considered doing exactly what Christine had humorously suggested, well perhaps not exactly. He would simply leave the room and out of the arboretum. He was certain that the executive officer of the ship walking past them would...put a damper on their ardor, allowing Miss Chapel to leave without further embarrassment.

"You've been a bad boy," the woman's soft throaty voice said.

"Yes, oh yes! I've been very bad."

"Do you want your hands on my tits? Do you want to ram that beautiful cock in my pussy?"

"Yes!, Oh yes. I want to fuck you until you scream."


There was silence from within the small room as the two occupants sought something, anything to occupy the time until it was safe to leave. An odd thud neither of them wanted to really understand brought both heads up and they found themselves meeting the others eyes. It didn't last long, both looked quickly away. A loud metal clank drew their attention once again this to what was happening 'outside'. They froze. The man was in handcuffs, the woman straddling him.

"Perhaps we should continue with our work and...ignore...that," he offered, moving purposely back toward their project. Only McCoy would choose this exact time and place to 'play a prank'. He was far too fond of putting him in...uncomfortable positions, in Spock's opinion. He barely heard Chapel's quick whisper of agreement.

"Your cock is hard for me and you can't act on that." The man moaned in protest. Spock shifted.

"You are naked before me. I see everything; the quick beating of your heart; the way your breath is coming faster and faster; the way your beautiful cock is hardening. Stop it, I dare you to try. ... You can't, can you? The thought of me touching you right now, releasing you, won't let you."

"Hand me the servo regulator, Miss Chapel." She did so, without once looking up at him; her eyes firmly planted on the open board before her. He took it from her, not looking directly at her either.

Their fingers brushed. The regulator fell to the floor as both let go, jerking their hands back. Spock picked it up without saying a word. But, inside he was in turmoil. He had meditated on this last night, well not this precisely, but this in general. He had been certain he had successfully worked through his...odd, reactions of the previous night. Apparently, he had been incorrect. He once again considered ending this farce by simply walking out, but discarded the idea immediately. Even so, he was not sure what was more inappropriate, walking out there into the middle of...that or sitting in here pretending not to hear.

"Buck those hips baby! Show mama just how much you want me."

A sigh escaped Spock, causing the woman beside him to flinch. He searched for a way to make this less embarrassing for her, but couldn't find it. He was having trouble keeping his own embarrassment under firm control.

"Yes, there! Yes, yes, yes! No!"

The fact that his body was once again betraying him did nothing to help his frame of mind. He shifted positions again, setting back to work and carefully keeping his...problem facing away from his fellow 'captive'.

"I'm going to swallow you whole. I'm going to deep throat your big juicy cock until you beg me to let you cum!"

The only thing he knew was McCoy would never know just how...effective, his prank had been. He would never know exactly what had occurred here. He would certainly not inform him, and if judging by Chapel's now rather scarlet appearance, he wouldn't hear about it from her either.

"Please, baby…" they heard the man whimper.

"Not yet, lover. Let me hear you. Tell me how bad you want me."

"I want you bad! I want you to fuck me!"

"Not til I suck you. I'm gonna suck you til you're ready to burst!"

All Spock and Christine heard then was the man's loud cries of pleasure.

"You like that, you dirty boy? You want to be in my pussy now? Do you?!"

"YES! Now!"

"Beg me for it, you piece of shit!! Beg me to do it!"

"PLEASE! PLEASE take me now! I want to fill you up with my cock! I want to feel your hot wet pussy all around me!"

"You got it!"

Now the sounds of both the man and woman filled their ears. Cries of "uhh" and "ahh" came through to their room with an almost painful clarity. Neither of them could look at the other. Christine was totally embarrassed. Did Leonard have something to do with this?! Surely not. But… what if he did? He'd been drunk as a dog the past 2 days, she was sure of that much. And after what he'd learned he'd love to get a rise out of Spock. But surely he didn't think… she could do this?

Oh, no. She couldn't. She just couldn't say those things to Spock… could she??

She stole a glance at him. His eyes were closed. She slid her gaze timidly down his body. He had turned slightly from his earlier position, and to her astonishment she could see that he was erect. It was true! Dirty talk and rough play DID turn him on. Instinct told her this was a one-in-a-million chance. But how could she take it? How could she possibly initiate such a thing?

Suddenly there was quiet in the arboretum. She peeked out the window. The couple was apparently finished. The woman had freed the man and they were getting dressed. "They'll be leaving in a few minutes," she told Spock.

He nodded. After a moment he opened his eyes. His erection was almost painful, as was his arousal. He knew he would have to hasten to his quarters and meditate the feelings away.

The couple departed without so much as a backward glance. They removed the masks just as they opened the door, so neither Spock nor Christine got a look at their faces. Just as well, Spock decided. For by telling the captain what he had seen, he would be making it known that he had watched it. Or at least heard it. He had no desire for that to occur.

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware that Miss Chapel was looking at him oddly. "Is something wrong, Miss Chapel?"

"Not with me. But… you seem unwell."

"I am perfectly fine. I believe our work here is finished and we may now depart in safety."

"If that's what you want to do, sir."

He shook his head. "You are confusing me, Miss Chapel. Perhaps this… encounter has unsettled you and you should see Dr. McCoy."

"Yeah, right! And tell him what?!"

He sighed. "The point is well taken."

"As for being unsettled… it seems that I could say the same for you." Her look was eloquent.

He shook his head in mute denial, reaching to collect the equipment. His hands were trembling, and he struggled to still them. He could not let her see what condition he was in. His mind was not entirely rational at the moment. He had to clear it, had to get away from the words that lingered in his head, and the smell of her.

He was so wrapped up in his turmoil that when he reached across the table for a sensor calibrator, he lost his balance and swayed. Christine instinctively reached out to steady him, but by that time he had regained his equilibrium and all she succeeded in doing was upsetting his balance. They fell, with her on top of him, across the meditation couch.

They lay there, winded and stunned, Christine's soft curves pressed hard against the firm angles of Spock's body. He could feel every inch of her; her breasts, hips, her legs intertwined with his. And to his enormous dismay, he could feel his arousal against her stomach. His face grew even hotter with a mixture of shame and mindless desire. He could see by her expression that she knew he was sexually stimulated. 'Run,' his mind commanded. 'Go!' But at that moment it was as though he'd been bound hand and foot and could not move an inch.

Her eyes widened. "You… enjoyed that, didn't you?" she asked softly. "What we heard. A part of you liked it."

He shut his eyes. To deny her words would be to lie.

Emboldened by the fact that he had made no attempt to rise, she leaned up to brush her lips against his ear. "I think I'm right," she whispered.

His shivered at the feeling of her warm breath in his ear. What was he doing?! He had to end this now.

He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, and she pressed her lips to his. She kissed him for only a moment before pulling back, eyes gleaming as she took in the naked longing in his expression. She was scared to death of what she was doing. She knew that if he protested even the tiniest bit she would lose all her nerve. But he wasn't. She gathered all her courage and played the trump card.

"You've been bad, Spock," she hissed seductively. "Very bad."

He stared at her in a mixture of desire and disbelief.

She nuzzled his throat, then ran a hand through his silky dark hair, pulling his head back, baring his neck to her teeth.

"And I'm going to have to punish you."

* * *

The walk back to his quarters was a long one. Both of them were tingling with anticipation, fear, and lust. They forced themselves to act casual, however. Luckily they encountered few crewmembers in the hallway, and none as they entered his cabin.

Spock adjusted the temperature by fifteen degrees to keep Christine from being too hot. She smiled her thanks. Neither said a word as he locked the door. He stopped a few feet away from her, looking at her uncertainly. She knew she couldn't give him time to think about the situation. She had to push on now, while the wanting was still great.

She pointed at his bed. "Lie down," she ordered.

He obeyed, eyes resting on her face. She licked her lips as she decided what to do to him. She thought about the few pornographic movies she'd ever seen, as well as what had transpired in both the arboretum and the meditation room. An impish smile crossed her features. "Don't move," she ordered. "Not an inch."

She sauntered to the replicator. She programmed a list of things in. Spock tried to see what she had ordered but she was blocking the panel from his view. A moment later the device beeped and began ejecting a variety of items into her waiting hands.

He stared, mouth dry, palms drenched.

Leather cuffs. A leather strap with a buckle attached to each end. A piece of black silk cloth. A bottle of some type of oil. Two small metal clamps. A pair of tall black leather boots. Matching gloves. A metal bar a meter long with a leather cuff attached to each end.

She stalked over to the bed. "Get up and strip, pretty boy," she demanded.

His heart thudded. This was illogical, bordering on insanity. There were a dozen reasons why he should halt it. But he couldn't bring himself to.

"NOW, Spock! Or do I have to give you some… inspiration?" She snapped. She whacked her gloves against her thigh.

He quickly rose and was starting to take off his blue shirt when she stopped him. "On second thought, I want to do that." With one swift move she ripped both shirts off him. She pushed him down on the bed, taking off his boots and socks, throwing them across the floor. She grasped his pants and slid them down his long legs, then his boxers. She desperately wanted to pause at this point and stare at him for a while, but was afraid to wait. That could come later.

She pushed him down on his back. With a speed that surprised her, she had his hands fastened in the cuffs. She then connected one buckle of the strap to a short chain between the cuffs, and the other to the top frame of his bunk. His hands were now bound above his head. She then placed the metal bar between his legs, fastening the cuffs on them around each ankle. He felt a twinge of panic as he realized he could not close his legs. Panic, and raw heat.

She sat beside him, looking at him for a moment. Then she smiled again. "You having fun so far, bad boy?" She purred. "Are you ready for the ride of your life? For me to make you scream?"

"I doubt that will happen," he responded without thinking.

"Oh, REALLY!" She exclaimed. Spock mentally kicked himself for what she could only take as a challenge. "We'll see, Mr. Hard-ass."

His head reared back in shock. She continued as though she hadn't noticed. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Meanwhile--" She lifted a piece of the silk. "--I want you to be a good boy and be quiet and still while I'm getting ready."

Spock only had time to say: "Chris--" before she had lifted his head, wrapping the silk around his mouth and tying it behind his head. He stared at her with wide eyes. She tenderly brushed his cheek. "Spock, you know as well as I do that if you REALLY wanted to get loose, you could. But I don't think you do. I think you WANT me to take control of you, make you helpless. You're not in charge that way. Not responsible. That's why being dominated and the sex talk excite you. It's okay for you to let it happen, because you can't stop it."

He continued to study her. His eyes were filled with a certain amount of trepidation, but he wasn't struggling or trying to cry out. She walked towards the bathroom, pausing to look over her shoulder at him. "If you're gone when I come out, I'll know I was wrong, and we'll never speak of this again. But if you're still here… I'll know that you know I'm right. And that you want me to make you be mine. Your choice."

And she walked into the bathroom without another backward glance.

Spock rested his head on his pillow, at war with himself. She was right, of course. He knew it. But the question was; could he act on it?

And the bonds holding him; he could break them. It would take only a few seconds. He could be free of all this madness.

'Free to what?' he asked himself. 'Go back inside the shell? Be afraid? Lonely?'

'Yes!' The other part of him shouted.


'What do you mean, NO?'

'I… I want this. I am tired of beating everything I feel down into a box.'

'You are a Vulcan! Vulcans do not do such things!'

'I'm also human. Perhaps not so much physically, but I still am.'

'You must stop this.'

'I want release. If I never let myself feel… anything… THAT is the true madness.'

'You are--'

'I am TIRED of hearing what I am and am not! Leave me be!'

His other-self, the rational self, withdrew. He took a deep breath. He noticed for the first time that the cuffs around his wrists and ankles were lined with a soft material so as not to rub or chafe the skin. He smelled the fake leather. It was intoxicating. The restraints she had chosen were designed to hold but not hurt. The silk she had gagged him with was not entirely unpleasant; it was not tight enough to hurt, and she had flattened the knot so it wasn't uncomfortable against his head as he rested it on the pillow. Something inside him wrenched at the tenderness of her domination, her efforts to make him more at ease with this frightening new discovery about himself.

* * *

Christine's hands shook hard as she removed her uniform. 'What the hell are you doing, Christine?' she asked herself. 'That's the freaking first officer of the ship you're got strapped down in there! You are playing a hell of a game, girl!'

But it was too late to stop now. She zipped up the boots. They molded themselves to her thighs and gave her an additional three inches of height. She felt trashy and decadent and alive. She put the gloves on, admiring the way they gave definition and power to her arms. She took a deep breath. 'What if he's gone?' she asked herself.

'Then you get dressed and run like hell to your quarters.'

'Sounds like a plan to me,' she thought. Taking another deep breath, she opened the door, almost afraid to look.

He was still stretched out on the bed, gagged, in the restraints.

She almost laughed in relief, but controlled herself as she sat beside him again. His dark eyes were soft, his body relaxed. She stroked his cheek above the silk, bent and brushed her lips over his eyes. He remained passive.

"You've given up resistance," she said quietly, triumphantly.

Unable to speak, he arched a brow in response.

She removed the gag, kissing him hard while she ran her nails lightly down his chest. He gasped into her mouth, and she plunged her tongue inside to capture his. She sucked on it, hands wandering down and back up again until they reached his nipples.

She lifted her head, brushing her thumb against his swollen lips.

"Time to play."

His body trembled beneath her gloved hands.

She retrieved the clamps. Bending over him, she slid her hands under his back, forcing his chest to arch up. She sucked first one nipple and then the other, alternately blowing warm air on them and then sucking it back in to produce a slight chill. They hardened quickly and his breath came in soft pants. She released him and applied a clamp to each nipple, turning the screws until they exerted firm pressure. He sighed, senses in chaos at the conflicting sensations his body was experiencing.

"Did you like that?" She chuckled. "Wait till I start stroking that nice big cock of yours!"

A moan was Spock's only response, as her hands had already went back down to his cock, caressing its firmness. She lay beside him, continuing her blissful torture with her hands as she whispered in his ear.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

Baby… she called him baby. A human term of endearment. Often trite and overused. Right now it caused a tremor to pass through him.

"Answer me!" she ordered. "Does my hands rubbing your cock feel good?" She paused in her delightful torment.

He twisted towards her, breathing heavily. "Yes."

"Yes, what?" She demanded, lightly raking a nail down his glans.

He swallowed, feeling somewhat foolish but wanting her to resume touching him. "Yes… baby."

"Good," she whispered as she began rubbing him again. She also began talking again.

"Your cock is hot. Hard and hot. I want it inside me so bad. Oh, I can't wait to feel it in my pussy. I'm so wet thinking about it, about all that hard cock in my tight little pussy."

He cried out as she slipped one finger to his anus and began to gently probe the opening. She withdrew her finger and opened the bottle of oil, pouring a bit of the spicy fluid on her free hand. Rubbing it in, she went back to his anus with her index finger, making small circles before she slowly slipped the tip of her finger inside.

Spock groaned, caught between pleasure and apprehension. He tried to close his legs, but the bar his ankles were cuffed to kept them spread apart. She saw the muscles flex and laughed, easing her finger in up to the second segment. He jerked and caught his breath.

"Oh, no, you don't. You can't fight me. It feels too good. You want more, don't you?" she teased, working more of her finger gently up inside him.

"I…" he stammered.

"Tell me. You like it don't you? It feels good."

"Yes," he said in a strained voice.

She continued her exploration, finding his prostate gland and carefully touching it. He moaned, jerked; but he was helpless to make her stop. He felt delirious.

She brought him seconds away from a climax, then stopped.

He cried out loudly in disappointment and frustration.

She removed her finger with a wicked smile. "You can't come yet, lover," she informed him. "I have to make you scream first."

He looked at her, eyes glazed with passion. She rose, taking the bottle of oil with her. "I'll be right back," she told him.

She went to the bathroom. He counted the minutes mentally, his body aching. The clamps kept his nipples hard, the pressure from them contributing to his physical hunger. His limbs felt heavy as though he'd been drugged. Perhaps something in the oil… he couldn't even try to move his arms or legs now. He was under her control completely and utterly, and it thrilled him.

She came back after two minutes and forty-seven seconds, opening the oil as she walked towards him. Without warning she poured a small amount on the base of his neck.

More tantalizing waves of pleasure crashed over him. She had heated the oil. Its musky warmth spread down his chest, seeping under the clamps. She massaged it into his bare skin, progressing from his collarbone to his navel. The smell was a mixture of cinnamon and tangerine. He bucked his hips as she dropped down to his cock, tracing patterns around it and across his hips. She slid oil-covered hands along his inner thighs, squeezing them as she did. A violent current of desire coursed through him.

By the time she finished, she had rubbed oil into his entire body. He was nearly at his point of endurance, and she showed no signs of easing his burning. He was desperate.

"Please…" he begged.

"Please… what?" She taunted as she planted kisses along his jawline.

"Please… I need you."

"You need what? You need your cock inside me? Is that what you need?" As she spoke she straddled him, letting her feminine core rest against his thigh. He could feel the heat and wetness of it, ached to be inside it.

"I want you, too. I want to ram you all the way up where it's hot and dark and soft and wet. I want you to pound my hungry pussy with your cock. I want to feel you grinding against me. I want to rake my nails down your back and grab that nice tight ass of yours. Is that what you want?"

He was gasping again, the strain of his need showing on his flushed face.

"Tell me," she whispered, "and you can have everything you want."

She slowly moved over, until she was only an inch away from his cock. The final thread of his restraint snapped.

"Yes!" he screamed. "I want to be inside you now!"

She needed no further urging; she opened herself and slid him inside her welcoming warmth. She was a glove that fit him perfectly, an oasis in his desert. They moved against each other with the fluidity of the rolling tides, one beginning as the other ended, and joining somewhere in between. She released the cuff holding his arms down, and he slipped his still-bound hands over her to hold her tightly to him as their bodies danced in bliss.

It seemed to go on forever, yet it only seemed like seconds ago it had begun. Time flowed and washed over them until there was no meaning. Again and again he pumped his body into hers, and each time she rocked her body with a hunger that matched his. And when he came, she followed him over the brink until there was nothing left but exhilarated exhaustion and contentment. Spock was dimly aware of her freeing him from his bonds and pulling the blanket over them. He brushed a kiss over her lips. She smiled. Curving her body into his, he thought detachedly how they were like two puzzle pieces that fit together to form a whole. Then he only knew sleep.

* * *

Christine lay uneasily beside Spock. He had long since fallen asleep. She had also, for a short time, but was now wondering exactly the right way to handle the ending to this particular encounter. If she knew Spock at all, and despite this surprise, she thought she knew him reasonably well, he would want to meditate on this...change. She wondered if she could get out of bed without waking him. She doubted it, but supposed it was worth a try. She eased carefully out and padded toward the bathroom. Before she reached the end of the bed, she noticed his eyes open and watch her move. The open regard sent a shiver down her spine. It made her want to climb right back in bed with him. It made her want to have her wicked way with him; again. She smiled and continued, not losing the feeling of his eyes on her until the door slid closed behind her. She palmed the lock and sagged back against it. She swallowed against the sudden trembling in her limbs, breathing deeply to steady herself. Get a grip girl, she thought fiercely. So you've had sex with the Vulcan First Officer, the love of your life; it's not like it's something that's going to change the flow of the universe! She swallowed again. Maybe not, she acknowledged, but it sure would alter the course of her life...one way or the other. Moving around the tiny room, she cleaned herself up and the very 'ordinariness' of it, succeeding in calming her more than all of her stern thoughts had.

She took her time, dressing slowly. Very thankful, at this moment in time, that she changed her clothes in here. Slipping out of the bathroom, breath held, she silently glided through the room and out into the living area. Not daring to release a sigh until the door to his quarters closed behind her. She tucked the bundle she carried under her arm, glad that this early in the morning found the corridor empty. She straightened and strode confidently toward her own quarters.

Only the future knew what the future would hold. She could only go about her day's routine and wait for the next move. Maybe Spock would make it, maybe she would. Again, only time would tell. Suddenly very happy with the way the universe turned, she hummed quietly to herself as she slipped inside her quarters. Undressing quickly she slipped between her sheets and fell asleep thinking decidedly non-regulation thoughts about a certain XO.