For Lambola and Valerie

My attempt to meet the following:

Prompt: Spock and Uhura experiment with Romulan Bondage with interesting results!
Requirements: Smut, smut and more smut
suggestions: Angst, dirty talk, dubcon, possibly OOC Spock, strange bondage equipment, D/S
bonus points (in no way required): alien genitalia, BDSM club scene, caught in the act

FFdotNet has totally mangled the formatting of this fic and removed the line breaks.

Spock has been dreaming, torturous gut wrenching dreams that no amount of meditation can seem to chase away. He tried to hide it, tried to hide himself away in the solitude of his quarters but he can't keep it up, he can't keep away from her because what is worse than the dreaming is being apart from her. To not feel her soft feminine form in the bed beside him or to stir in the morning without her scent on his pillow. To wake in the night, trembling and gasping and not feel the soft palm of her hand soothing along his spine, her fingers lovingly caressing the point of his ear. He can't help it. He loves her.

"Spock," she croons, enfolding him in her embrace. He goes willingly, hiding his face in the crook of her neck and holding onto her tightly as she pulls him down into the mattress. His heart pounds, his mind races and through it all Nyota is there, soft and sleepy and oh so beautiful.

"Spock," she repeats when the trembling fades and he pulls back, propping himself on his arms to peer down at her. Her voice is gentle, cracked from sleep and her hair is mussed wildly. Strands stick in the fuzz of beard growth that shadows his chin and she reaches up to gently brush them away. She blinks at him drowsily and looks him in the eye, cupping his jaw and kissing him softly on the lips. She lies back and opens her legs in invitation and his breath hitches at the sight of her beneath him, warm, welcoming, comforting. He cannot resist her. He has never been able to resist her.

He loves her.

xxx

All the dreams are agonizing but some more so than others. Visions of his mother, of Vulcan, of Nero.

Nero.

Spock is Vulcan. He does not hate.

And yet he does.

He dreams of Nero's neck in his hands, of seeing the light in his eyes fade as he squeezes the soul out of him, of the sickening thud of his lifeless body falling to the floor. He hates it.

He likes it.

He wakes, twitching with energy and rage and hard as rock.

And Nyota is there, soft and sleepy and oh so beautiful.

"Spock," she breathes and he is lost.

xxx

Spock has always been impressed by Nyota even if like any other man the first thing he noticed about her was the way she looks. She wasn't his student then, she was just a stunning creature hurrying across the quad on a sunny day in September. Spock was just starting his tenure as an instructor, one five year mission complete and another one waiting after a brief hiatus manoeuvred by Captain Pike until the Enterprise was ready. Three days later and that stunning creature was sitting three rows from the front in Advanced Phonology and when she opened her mouth to speak Spock found himself impressed all over again.

Uhura, Nyota U, Ensign, Communications, 3rd Year.

Gifted. Hard working. Beautiful.

And much, much later, his. His beautiful Nyota, who he loved in spite of all logic.

His gifted student knows many languages but Vulcan is one of her strongest and when she speaks the sound is as beautiful as she is. On top of that she can speak Romulan too and that's rare for a Human Spock knows, even more so because Nyota knows all three dialects proficiently and though she modestly swears to him that it's really not as impressive as people think, Spock cannot agree. He is highly intelligent and not without skill at languages but Nyota, well Nyota really has a gift. The way the words roll off her tongue is so precise, so perfect that if you closed your eyes you would swear you were listening to a native. They used to practise together, in his office at all hours of the day and night until one day they stopped speaking in tongues because they found something better to do with them.

They still practise although not quite how they used to but things are different now and Spock will take what he can get.

"Yes," she hisses, through her teeth, her nails digging into his ass as he moves inside her. "Oh please, oh please don't stop!" It's always turned him on to hear her cry like this but these days he finds Standard lacking. He switches to Vulcan and his always adoring Nyota obliges like she hasn't even noticed the change. It's so sexy, the way she babbles as she comes, her tight body clenching around him and sometimes as her face screws up and her voice becomes a whine it almost sounds...Romulan.

He comes. Hard.

And he's ashamed of himself.

xxx

She is so beautiful, lying there beside him and sometimes he lies awake just watching her. He wonders if she truly knows how much he loves her, how much pleasure she gives him.

"It's a beautiful, special thing," she told him as she loosened the button of his fly the first time she went down on him. "To give pleasure to someone you love." Spock couldn't disagree, not when it felt so good.

It still feels good, the flat of her tongue along the underside of his cock licking from root to tip in one long wet lick. His fingers tangled in her hair as she teases his swollen head, they way her eyes go wide as she takes him in deep and best of all how much she likes it, how much she wants it. She hums around him and the vibrations seem to reverberate right to his core and when he comes in her mouth she moans.

"My little star," he tells her in Vulcan, cupping her face in one hand and stroking her hair with the other.

"I love you," she replies, rubbing her face into his touch like a cat seeking attention and he knows that she does. He knows that she loves him, he is glad for it, he is glad she is so willing and unafraid. He is glad for her eager embrace as he enters his quarters, he is glad when she's on her knees on the floor, sucking on him as he towers over her, his fingers tangled in her hair. He hasn't even undressed yet but that's alright, she likes it and he likes it too. He likes the sound of his boots clanging against the hard floor as he drags her towards the bed, he likes the guttural rasp of Vulcan as she hisses at him. "Yes, my beloved, my Spock!"

His eyes are wide and his expression feral as he leans over her, her head clasped in his hands.

"I have been thinking of this moment since we parted," he tells her in his native tongue and she pouts at him sensuously, reaching up to slide her hands under his shirt.

"What have you been thinking?" she purrs as she divests him of his shirt and digs her claws into the hair on his chest. His lip curls slightly at the bite of her nails on his skin and he grunts, fumbling with her dress. "My logical Vulcan," she teases, batting his hands away and pushing up on to her knees to grab his ears and pull him in for a kiss. He growls and clutches her biceps so tight there will be marks in the morning, flipping her over and pinning her to the bed.

The sex is frantic, Spock is demanding and bossy and Nyota's being argumentative although in the most gratifying possible way. He ends up on his back as she straddles him, her hands pressed against his chest and her nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. The cabin is filled with the wet smack of flesh against flesh as she rides him and she moans loudly, her eyes rolling back in her head as he splays his fingers across her face and goes into her mind. Her back arches and she shifts and the angle lets him penetrate her so deeply that he cries out. It's so overwhelming that for a moment he's exposed, the dark recesses of his consciousness revealed to her. She doesn't have enough time to process it before the swirling sandstorm of his desire overwhelms her, overtakes her and becomes her. She sees what he sees, feels what he feels.

Wants what he wants.

Nyota falters, catching herself by grabbing onto his shoulders and holding on tight. Her face is contorted in a grimace that looks like pain but it isn't, it's something else and the curl of her lip becomes a sneer.

"Murderer," she growls but the guttural snarl is not Vulcan and it's not Standard either. Spock's eyes are wide as she glowers at him like she hates him and when she wraps her hands hard around his throat, he comes.

xxx

They don't discuss it. They don't need to. She feels what he feels, she wants what he wants and her want feeds his want, her pleasure feeds his pleasure. It's the nature of sharing, of joining minds like they do. Like they have since the beginning, since that first time when it was new. His perfect recall lets him replay that night and how she whimpered as she lay spread out beneath him, trembling like a newly opened virgin as he withdrew his hand from her face, his seed oozing down the smooth dark skin of her thigh.

In the morning before shift, Spock likes to come inside her and leave something of himself behind. He'll watch her on the bridge and know that he's inside her even there, know that she's sticky and wet and that he made her that way. She doesn't look at him as she passes but his nostrils twitch, the sweet scent of her cunt diluted only by his own potent musk.

Nyota was right. It was special. It was beautiful.

Spock thinks it is a little less beautiful now but she's still beautiful and it will always be special.

xxx

She rides him, her forearm pressing against his throat so hard he can't breathe. Romulan is harsh and rasping language, not pretty like Vulcan and every word is like a curse.

It is a curse. She tells him he deserves to suffer as she chokes him but he doesn't suffer, not really. He writhes and moans, pleasure spiralling out of control and when he comes, he comes harder than he's ever come in his life. That is, if she lets him come at all.

xxx

He deserves to suffer and suffer he does. All day he's watched her, watched the smug knowing glances and teasing movements. Yes sir, right away sir, excuse me Commander, may I have a moment of your time. He endures the agonizing burn of unfulfilled desire, of interrupted pleasure, plotting, scheming, planning his revenge. Spock is a Vulcan and he endures it with such stoicism that noone could tell what is raging inside of him but Nyota knows. She knows and it excites her.

He doesn't want to hurt her, not really, he doesn't want to damage her he just wants to see her cry, just a little because he can't. Or won't. He just wants to hear that beautiful sob as she cowers beneath him, her fragile Human body trembling in his arms and when he sees the wetness of her lashes, he feels such elation. The smack of his palm hard against the soft swell of her ass, the way the sheets tangle as she jerks up the bed and the beautiful dusky red of her skin where his hand strikes her over and over and over. How she begs and pleads, please sir, oh daddy I'm sorry, oh Spock, my Spock.

He loves the stuttering gasp of breath as he pulls her to her knees, the flutter of her pulse beneath his fingers as he wraps his hands around her throat and squeezes. The long black trails of kohl that smear across her cheeks as her eyes water when he tangles his hands in her hair and forces himself to the back of her throat and makes her choke. The exquisite pleasure he feels when he comes and how breathtaking she looks, her beautiful face bathed in it.

He holds her still, one hand gently cupping her jaw while the other strokes up and down her back as he admires the sticky white mess on her face. Her eyes are closed and she's shaking, catching her breath as he holds her close and kisses her ear. He feels her in his mind, knows that she felt every tremor of excitement and every flutter of pleasure like an electric shock. She's not afraid of him, she knows he'll stop before it hurts too much, before he does any real damage but there's something, a feeling...

Spock won't let her complete that emotion.

"I love you," he tells her, turning her face to look her right in the eye. "All of you, just as you are. You are all that I desire." Nyota screws her eyes shut and hides her face in his neck, trembling uncontrollably. Gently he lays her back against the sheets and proceeds to softly kiss every part of her body before he settles his head between her thighs. Slowly, torturously, with every ounce of Vulcan discipline he laves at her pussy, luxuriating in the scent of her. His tongue traces every inch of beautiful brown skin, every crease and fold, probing deep inside her pussy before brushing up with the flat of his tongue to suck her clit between his teeth. Afterwards he holds her to him, revelling in the scent of her on his face as she falls into a deep and dreamless sleep.

He loves her.

He envies her.