Here is the mature story I have been working up the courage to write for months. Yes, I know the title sounds like it belongs on the title of some romance novel. If anyone can think of anything better, I'll gladly take your suggestions
Warnings: This story contains slavery, somewhat dubious consent, and some descriptions of past events later on.
Chapter 1
James T. Kirk (Jim to his friends) awoke in a strange room that resembled a small, one person apartment, with kitchen facilities and a door on one end. On the other end, closer to the bed was a second door. Everything was clean and bright. It was a little chilly, but nothing that couldn't be solved by curling up under the covers. He was lying on a rather large bed, queen sized if he had to guess, and right next to it was some monitoring equipment. It seemed to be tracking his vitals, though he couldn't see anything hooking him up to it. He tried to remember what had happened. He'd been traveling on a small merchant ship. He'd played the pilot in cards and won, taking the ride instead of the guy's money. He'd been on his way to Deneva, to visit his brother's family. He wasn't poor, but he wasn't a big spender either, so he'd been glad to get a free ride. The pilot had been glad to give the ride instead of paying, as he'd bet more than he'd initially meant to, and Deneva was a stop on his list. He remembered some turbulence from the room where he'd been sleeping, and that was it.
As he wondered just what could have happened and why he didn't remember anything, the doors at the far end of the room hissed open, revealing an Orion female in some kind of white uniform with a simple design that was rather shaped like a small sand castle on it, carrying what looked like a digital clipboard. She saw that he was awake and came over to check something on the monitors.
"Where am I?" He croaked out, shocked by how weak his voice sounded. "Why am I here?"
"You're at The Pleasure Palace, a Ferengi-owned establishment. You were brought here after your transport's cargo was acquired. What's your name?"
"James Kirk." He replied without thinking. She nodded.
"Just checking." She went back to studying the monitors. He was trying to process what he'd been told. Ferengi? They were usually content to rip people off by overcharging and underpaying. They were pretty cowardly when physically challenged. They were wary of bigger organizations like the Federation, though small privately owned transport vessels like the one he'd been traveling on were usually considered fair game.
"What happened to the rest of the crew?" He asked. Maybe he could find a way out if he could find the others.
"They were left aboard the vessel. None of them were female, so there was no point in selling them, though an exception was made in your case." She looked him over admiringly. "Humans, attractive ones that is, have become increasingly popular, and you were obviously pretty enough to make a sale." She pulled a small recording device from the clipboard and began taking pictures of him. "These should do nicely." She studied him closely. "Your I.D. says you're twenty-one, but you could probably pass for younger, maybe nineteen or so. A lot of the customers like them young." She turned to leave, and Jim snapped out of his stupor.
"You can't keep me here! I'm a Federation citizen!" He attempted to stand up and noticed for the first time that there was some kind of electronic cuff on his right ankle. It seemed to be magnetically bound to the metal bedpost. She smiled at him with a kind of false pity.
"You may as well make the best of it. No one knows where you are, and no one here will care what you want as long as they get what they paid for." She gestured around the room. "This is your home now. In the cabinets you will find plenty of food fit for humans. The tap is working and the water is clean. You'll need to be strong for when you start taking requests. You'll be expected to clean up after yourself. Through that door is the bathroom, where you'll find plenty of contraceptive devices and lubricant, as well as the uniforms you will wear. You'll be expected to bathe once a day, and to be clean and presentable at all times. You'll be given two weeks of recovery from the residual effects of your injuries." She paused to set some kind of padd on one of the countertops.
"Here you'll find everything you'll need to know about our clientele. Their sexual needs and such. There is also a list of rules you will be expected to follow with them. It would be in your best interests to use your recovery time to learn it well. Any disobedience will be promptly disciplined. Good behavior will earn you privileges. Your ankle cuff will deliver a debilitating shock to your system if you attempt to leave the room without permission." She said all of this with a kind of fake pleasantness, like she was giving a lecture or presenting a business deal. It was clear she'd done this many times before. She pressed something on her 'clipboard', and the door opened. She paused inside the doorway and looked back at him. "Welcome to The Pleasure Palace." She pressed something else and the ankle cuff suddenly fell free from the post. She stepped outside the room and the doors shut behind her.
Aboard his ambassadorial cruiser Khio'ri, Sarek of Vulcan was struggling to resist the urge to pace back and forth like a nervous human parent. His son Spock had been acting rather strange lately. He normally had a very docile personality, but had lately been short with anyone who spoke to him, including Sarek.
Sarek had initially believed it to be the result of what had happened with the Vulcan Science Academy. Due to some disciplinary issues in Spock's childhood, his testing for admissions had been delayed. He had been forced to wait until he was twenty-three years old before he was allowed to take his exams, when all his age-mates had done so at eighteen. He had succeeded admirably, even by Vulcan standards. However, the Ministers hadn't seen that. They'd only seen that Spock had managed to succeed in spite of his mother's presence in his life and in his genetics, and they'd said as much.
Sarek knew that they'd been testing him, to see if his influence in Spock's upbringing would be enough to suppress any response to the insult. He himself had been tested many times by colleges and superiors wanting to see if he would react to insults to himself and his family. Spock hadn't batted an eye. He'd thanked the Ministers for the good news, and then turned them down in the same breath. Sarek had confronted Spock later, making his surprise and disappointment obvious, demanding to know why he'd turned down the admission. Spock's explanation for his actions had stopped him dead in his tracks.
"I cannot continue to deny a part of myself, no matter how it may affect your reputation."
He'd been shocked into silence. He knew he'd impressed upon Spock the consequences that his actions would have on his family's honor, but he'd never expected for Spock to feel that he was doing it all in his own best interests.
It had been three weeks since the whole affair. He and Spock hadn't actually spoken since. What little communication there was between them took place through typed messages. They hardly even spent time in the same room together, unless one of them was just passing through. Spock was now rooming with a former classmate rather than sharing the ambassador's family quarters.
He heard the doors of sickbay opening and turned to face the healer. He was beckoned inside. He was led over to where Spock was waiting and left to speak with him alone.
"Spock?" He waited with barely concealed anxiousness. Spock spoke softly without looking at him.
"I am entering my Time. I have perhaps one week before I enter the Plak Tow. Possibly less."
Later, Sarek stood alone in his quarters. He was currently awaiting someone. He was also going over his options. He was eventually headed for Earth, where important ambassadorial meetings, and his human wife, awaited him. She there visiting family and old friends, and planned to return with him when his business was complete. It was to be Spock's first visit to Earth, and his first time meeting his mother's family in person. It was meant to be a reward of sorts. Sarek had believed that if Spock was deemed Vulcan enough to be granted entry into the Science Academy, he would surely be able to resist being tempted by any human influences. The only reason Sarek was still bringing him now was because his wife had been so eager to have him finally see her home and her family was expecting him.
In addition to heading for Earth, Sarek had also been instructed to transport three ambassadors and their assistants from their home worlds to Earth for their own talks. One of them was Bolian, and might be at least somewhat amenable to stopping. The other two, however, were a Tellarite and an Andorian. Andorians often needed little provocation to complain when it came to Vulcans. Tellarites never needed any provocation at all to complain about anyone or anything. Sarek could make excuses enough for tardiness if it was only himself, but it could cause potentially significant trouble for the Vulcan government if he was unable to get the others to Earth on time.
As he mused on this, a soft tone rang, alerting him to someone's presence at the door.
"Come." He said. The doors opened to reveal Stonn, a science student and one of Spock's only real friends, and the former classmate he was bunking with. They had not always been on such good terms. Stonn, like many other Vulcan children, had often taunted Spock about his mixed heritage. Things had grown worse after Spock had been pre-bonded to T'Pring.
But then, when they had all reached age eighteen Spock, knowing that he and T'Pring could never have a harmonious relationship, had renounced their bond. He had then, with the help of his mother, persuaded Sarek to convince T'Pring's parents to have her linked to Stonn. He'd known for years that they held a great deal of esteem for each other, and that their bond would be a prosperous one.
After learning that he had helped bring about their pre-bonding, Stonn and T'Pring had both developed a new respect for Spock. Neither of them made derogatory comments about his mixed heritage anymore. They had become cordial, even friendly to him. Stonn's family had also been grateful. Stonn had known T'Pring all his life and had seemingly rejected every other mind his family attempted to link him to. They had even invited Spock to their bonding ceremony four years later, which coincidentally had been brought on by Stonn's own premature Time. He was now on board to visit Earth with them for an exhibit at Starfleet Academy about marine life, something very rare on Vulcan. It was for these reasons he knew that he could trust Stonn with Spock's predicament, discuss with him how to handle the situation and, if necessary, help him come up with a solution in private.
"Stonn." He said, formally.
"Ambassador." He replied, equally formal. "You summoned me here?"
"Yes." Sarek said, "And I must ask that what I say to you does not leave this room."
"Of course." Said Stonn. Sarek steeled himself for what he had to say next.
"Spock is entering his Time." Stonn's eyes widened slightly in realization of what that meant. "He will be in the grips of the Fever before we can reach Earth, or even if we attempt to return to Vulcan. I do not know what else can be done for him. I wish to know if you have any suggestions." Stonn did not reply immediately. Sarek could see that he was very carefully going through every possibility in his head. Finally he spoke, though he was somewhat hesitant.
"I was in the mess hall two days ago and overheard a conversation between the Andorian ambassador and his aide. The aide was complaining about a lack of…intimate contact in recent months due to his work schedule. The ambassador then spoke of a place he had considered visiting, an establishment managed by the Ferengi, a high level brothel of sorts. He spoke of the excellent 'service' he had heard that they have there, though he bemoaned the price that prevented him from traveling there." Stonn turned to the star charts Sarek had on his wall. He pointed to a small moon known only as Omega Two. Sarek was not familiar with it. He was however, familiar with Omega, its planet. Omega was not a Federation world, but it was right on the edge of Federation Space, and often did business with Federation ships in need of spare parts. Just like that, Sarek had a plan.
"How is our supply of dilithium crystals?" Stonn considered his question.
"We are one third of the way through our allotted amount for this mission." He paused for a moment, then continued. "It is more than we might have expected to go through at this point in our journey. It would be logical for us to schedule a stop at Omega for the purpose of replenishing our supply, in the interest of the safety of the ship and its passengers."
"Indeed." Said Sarek, satisfied. "I will speak to the chief engineer immediately. And if Spock happens to fall ill while we are waiting, I will be forced to take him off the ship to see someone about helping him."
"Of course." Agreed Stonn. "By my estimation, if we alter our destination coordinates immediately, we will reach Omega in three days." Sarek nodded.
"See to it." Stonn left to carry out his requests. Sarek waited a moment, then also left his quarters. He made his way to the quarters Spock was sharing with Stonn. He requested entrance and was let in. He found Spock sitting on the floor in a meditation robe, obviously attempting to meditate.
"What is it?" He snapped. His attempts were clearly unsuccessful.
"We will be making an unscheduled detour in three days. During that time, you will need to remain in your quarters. You must not come into contact with anyone, lest you lash out at them."
"Understood." Muttered Spock darkly. Sarek shifted a bit. This was going to be the hard part.
"Once we have reached our destination, you and I will travel, via shuttle, to a nearby moon. Our explanation for all of this will be that you are ill and we have gone in search of professional help unavailable aboard the ship." It was, in a way, the truth. It was simply worded more tastefully. Spock's eyes widened as he processed the words, and the meaning behind them.
"You mean to pay a prostitute to assist me through my Time." He rose up unsteadily from the floor, shaking his head. "I will not agree to this!"
"You do not have a choice Spock." Sarek told him. "Even if we could return to Vulcan, we would not arrive in time." Spock glared at him.
"And what if I happen to form a bond with the person you hire? I seriously doubt that is included in the services they are willing to offer!"
"Any bond you form would doubtlessly be light, just a small link. It could be severed by one of our healers." Sarek fought to keep his voice even and low. Was this what human parents went through when their children entered puberty? Disrespect and disregard for everything they said? "As I said, you have no choice. You will die otherwise."
"Very well!" Snarled Spock. "I will go. I am merely surprised that you would risk such shame on the family name! Now leave me!" Sarek just nodded his head and did as Spock demanded. He could just hear his beloved wife now.
"You sent our child to a hooker! What the hell is wrong with you!"
He wondered if either one of them would forgive him for this.
So, I guess it's not hard to see where this is going. I know I got off to a pretty abrupt start with this. If you enjoyed this at all, you're probably upset that this was so short, but it's kind of just a prologue. And yes, Spock, Stonn, and T'Pring are all pretty friendly in this story, though I don't think she'll be making an actual appearance. Also, the name of Sarek's ship is a Vulcan word for star.
On a different note, I learned that the title I chose is the name of a song(s) that I've never listened to, and possibly some stories too. I didn't know that when I was writing it, so I just want to be any kind of confusion that there's a connection when there isn't. I'll be updating once a week, (I mean it this time)! Please review and boost my confidence!
