Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I own nothing interesting. All I've got is my bones, must be why I like McCoy so much.
AN: In which Jim lays claim, and McCoy is rendered incoherent.
Through A Mirror Darkly
Teris Xenite
By 1500 McCoy was so jittery that he wanted to scream. Ever since Kirk's earlier visit and the insertion of the toy he had been hyper aware of an area of his body that he normally did his best to ignore. It didn't matter if he sat or stood, he could still feel the object, and even though he knew that it was paranoid he felt like everyone else who saw him knew that he was wearing it. Matters did not improve any as he excused himself from Med Bay, and proceeded to his quarters. The first toy was easy enough to remove, but the insertion of the second one even with the lube proved difficult as he couldn't help but tense the already tender muscles.
Finally after multiple attempts and great deals of frustration, he managed to get the toy in, only to be faced with further difficulties. While the first toy's presence had been ignorable for the most part, this one being both newly inserted and larger drew his attention to its presence with every heartbeat. He knew that in reality he should be thankful for the consideration that Kirk was showing him by letting him become accustomed to this slowly, but that did little to assuage the humiliation of walking down the hall all the while tightly clenching to keep the toy from sliding out and embarrassing him in front of the crew.
After six hours of such feelings, he was almost relieved to be standing at Kirk's door. At least whatever he had planned was likely to be private. At promptly 1800 McCoy rang the bell at the Captain's door, and after a moment it slid open to allow him entry. Kirk was reading over reports at his desk, and looked up at McCoy with a satisfied look on his face. He put the padd down, and sat back letting his eyes roam over McCoy. "Right on time, have a seat."
He watched the change in McCoy's gait as he walked across the room and the careful way that he lowered himself into the chair with satisfaction. "Any preferences on dinner?" McCoy shook his head, all the while trying to figure out exactly what was going on. "You look like you could use a drink? Rough day cleaning up Chekov's mess?"
McCoy was still trying to process why exactly this was looking far more like a date, and far less like a Kilingon brothel, when a rocks glass with a generous severing of bourbon was sat in front of him. The fact that Kirk knew his liquor of choice didn't register as a surprise anymore. McCoy barely noticed as Yeoman Rand brought in a cart with dishes. She placed one in front of each of them, and Kirk dismissed her with a wave. When she'd gone he picked up a scanner waving it over the dishes, after a few seconds the scanner flashed green. "She's learning. No poison this time." He pulled the lid off of his meal and indicated for McCoy to do the same. "So tell me doctor, how are things in Med Bay?"
The meal continued with Kirk asking McCoy questions, probing topics ranging from the sports team that he preferred, to what he thought of the latest research in the Journal of Terrain Medicine. McCoy tried to form intelligent responses to the Captain's questions, but found it difficult distracted as he was by what he was expecting to happen, as well as confusion over why it hadn't happened yet.
"McCoy." McCoy cursed to himself, apparently he'd been distracted and the Captain had finally taken offense. "You've been distracted and bad company all night. Now I'm sure that's just nerves, but you will improve on that in the future, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." Why the hell do I need to be a good conversationalist? You got your fuck toy Captain, isn't that enough?
"Confused aren't you? Things not going precisely as you'd expected them?"
"I just thought…"
"You thought that I'd bend you over a table or make you suck me off occasionally and that would be that. This isn't that simple McCoy, and while that will happen, probably frequently, that's not all I want from you. Did it ever occur to you that part of the reason that I wanted you, was because of that brilliant mind of yours? Or that one of the biggest reasons that I chase, is because for some reason despite all logic and contrary to every intelligent choice you could make, you keep running."
McCoy looked at him dumbfounded, and while he was still trying to process a response, he saw Kirk move, and then he found himself on his back on the ground with the Captain pinning him very effectively with his wrists held over his head. How the hell did that happen?
"Tell me McCoy, could you break free if you had to? Why don't you try?" McCoy did try to unseat his Captain, writhing and bucking in the process, but eventually had to concede that he was very well trapped. When he stopped struggling Kirk brought one hand down from where he held his wrists and trailed his fingers along McCoy's cheek. "Now, do you have any doubt, that by virtue of the fact that I am Captain of this ship and you despite your many skills are not a soldier, I can physically overpower you at pretty much any time?"
McCoy gritted his teeth, before grudgingly replying. "No, sir."
"That's not what this is about McCoy. So stop acting like you think there's a Kilingon hiding behind my chair." He rolled easily off of McCoy, and extended a hand to help him up. Once McCoy was on his feet, he pointed to the table. "Now, finish your dinner. You're going to need your strength."
McCoy righted his chair and sat down, noticing for the first time what was actually on his plate. Oysters, leafy green salad with a garlic dressing, and fettuccine alfredo with shrimp. Let's see, Zinc, B12, and pretty much every other 'aphrodisiac' food known to man. Could you be any less subtle Captain?
The food wasn't bad, and once he was no longer distractedly picking at it, it disappeared rather quickly. Kirk continued asking him questions and his responses came a little easier. Once he'd finished his dinner, Kirk placed his napkin on the table, and pushed back from the table. "Now see, that wasn't so difficult, now was it?" Rising gracefully, he turned away from the table and headed for the bathroom. "Take off your boots, and follow me."
McCoy took off his boots, rose woodenly, and followed at as slow a pace as he dared. When he entered the room, he felt the warmth of the steamy shower that Kirk already had running. Kirk crooked his fingers. "Come here." McCoy shuffled over to the indicated spot, and looked down not wanting Kirk to see his resignation in his eyes. He didn't resist the fingers at his sash, nor the hands that skimmed his shoulders as he removed his shirt. And only a faint trembling could be detected as his pants were removed. His underwear and socks were next, and he couldn't help the flush as he stood naked before his fully clothed Captain.
"Very, very nice." Kirk stepped into his personal space again, and ran his fingers down his spine slowly, before teasing along the top of his ass. His hand drifted lower, coming to rest over the toy that he'd inserted earlier. "And obedient too, it looks like you did a good job following my instructions." His fingers grasped the base of the plug, and slowly proceeded to work it out, causing McCoy to whimper involuntarily. The plug popped out loudly and Kirk inspected it absently before tossing it into a vat of what McCoy hoped was disinfectant.
Kirk's hands came to his own sash, and he slowly stripped himself as well, following the same order as he had with McCoy. McCoy couldn't help but stealing a look at the Captain's cock, which was in his medical and personal opinion very sizable. He was mostly successful in fighting off a shudder, and the remainder of it was interpreted as a chill by the Captain. "Get in the shower." McCoy complied hissing at the temperature which was just shy of scalding. Kirk followed him in, and slicked his hands with soap before pressing McCoy up against the wall.
Kirk's lips met his in what could only be considered possession. The kiss was impatient, through, and seemingly intended to make sure that not a single millimeter of McCoy's mouth was left unexplored. While the kiss continued, Kirk's hands proceeded to trace a path over his neck, down over his chest, stopping to gauge the sensitivity of his nipples. The possessive growl that Kirk had released when McCoy's hips jumped in response to the stimulation, promised much more exploration at a later date.
At this point Kirk's hands skimmed his sides, and one continued to McCoy's very unwilling erection, and the other trailed over the small of his back before plunging into McCoy's already stretched hole. When he whimpered at the thrusting fingers, Kirk's hand grabbed his flagging erection and stroked up and down in time to the thrusts. Meanwhile the Captain's mouth had never left his.
The two fingers inside him were continuously dancing between pleasurable and painful, until they brushed something inside him that felt like a lightning strike. His knees trembled and he froze tensed around Kirk's fingers. Kirk chuckled lightly. "Feels good doesn't it McCoy?" He couldn't help but keen as the questing fingers inside him prodded that spot over and over again. That combined with his dick being expertly pumped by Kirk's fist, soon had him panting his hips bucking into Kirk's touch.
"That's it McCoy. Come for me. Shoot your load all over my hand, while my hands up your ass. Come on McCoy, come for me right damn now."
McCoy went rigid, and then he felt himself come into James T. Kirk's waiting hand. When he finished breathless and trembling, Kirk removed his fingers and gave his dick one final stroke. He pushed McCoy against the wall letting him slump there as he tried to catch his bearings. "Consider that a gift McCoy. The next time you come, you have to earn it." He pressed another kiss on McCoy who was far too tired to resist. "You see McCoy, ever since you made your deal with me you've been so caught up in the thought that I was going to hurt you, that you forgot one very important thing. I can. I can have you crawl bare assed and covered in come from here to the bridge if I wanted to. I can, but that doesn't mean that I have to. Or that I will."
He followed this with a lazy slap to McCoy's ass. "Now, go towel yourself off and get on the bed."
AN: Judging by the lack of response to the last chapter, I'm going to guess that story is taking turns that people weren't expecting, or might not be comfortable with. I personally agree with Kirk in the first chapter, he could rape McCoy. Could physically make him do pretty much anything, could even make him do so willingly because of the situation with Joanna.
But to my mind, James T Kirk is a contrary bastard, no matter the universe. Pike dares Kirk to get on a shuttle, and do something no one thinks he can do. His response, I'll beat every record you've ever had and laugh at you while I'm doing it. For Mirror Kirk, I see this applying to McCoy's constant refusals (we'll hear more about those later). You don't want me? Fine I'll make you scream my name so damn loud they hear it on Vulcan. It's not just the sex for him, even though that part is damn hot, it's also about making someone who had rejected him want him. The more reluctant they are to start with, the better.
Anyway, next chapter: Kirk sets about ridding McCoy of that pesky virginity. Also coming soon, Mirror Christmas time, whatever does a good thrall get the master who literally has everything and everyone they desire? As always if you enjoyed reading, let me know. We don't want Kirk to get performance anxiety now do we?
