Title: Frozen
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the random words that I've made up and the plot line of this story. This chapter will contain graphic scenes that may not be suitable for children under the age of concent. It will contains naked men with other naked men on beds. If you have an aversion to such things... well, if you did you wouldn't have read this far anyways. :D
Rating: M
Pairing: Kirk and Spock definitely. Possibly others.
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It had been four months since Spock had been taken from him, and James T Kirk was starting to lose hope. After a few days of careful inquiries, he'd found the slaver that had sold the members of his crew. During the interrogation he'd found out the only reason that his ship had been attacked at all was because a Vulcan had been detected on board.
The slaver had squealed louder than a struck pig.
Apparently, Spock had been sold to a very wealthy man who'd wanted a travel companion with telepathic abilities. He claimed that he didn't know the name of the man, or even what species he'd been. He did, however, provide much more useful information on the other missing members of his crew.
Kirk had managed to find Chekov two weeks later on a mining colony near the Klingon boarder. The Russian had been half dead by the time the Enterprise had pulled him out. Bones had been horrified at the malnutrition, dehydration, and physical abuse of the man. The normally calm and gentle southern doctor had broken the Head of the colonies nose before he'd been forcibly taken back to the ship.
Chekov had cried when he was finally on board, sobbing so hard that he'd had to be carried to sickbay by two of the burlier of the crew members.
The yeoman that had been taken hadn't even made it off the slavers ship. He'd been beaten to death by the guards shortly before the Russian had been sold, Chekov had managed to tell him before he'd been forced away to surgery.
Kirk stared at the view screen, letting his mind wander over the possibilities for where Spock had gone. He'd even gone so far as to contact the Vulcan government and Spock Prime to ask them for assistance. The Vulcan's had been dismayed to learn that one of their last remaining members of their species had disappeared, but their official position on it was that they were unwilling to risk any more of their people on such a hopeless endeavour.
Even Starfleet had given up hope on the Vulcan and the Asian man that had been taken with him. Sulu and Spock were both reported MIA. When he'd had to message Sulu's mother and father to tell them that their son was missing, his heart had broken when he'd seen the woman's face crumple.
Sulu had been their only child.
The Captain sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the warmth in the back of his mind that he'd come to rely on. That warmth was the only thing that gave him any hope that the Vulcan was still alive somewhere in the universe. As long as he could still feel the brush of the raven haired man's mind, he would never give up the search for him.
"Captain," the new science officer's voice rubbed over Kirk's nerves like sandpaper. "We've completed our survey of this system."
Forcing himself to stay polite, the sandy haired man nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant Ichigo," he replied automatically, lifting the data PADD that he'd been trying to review up and scrolling through it. It was a supply request for the astronomy lab. Setting it down, he stood up and headed for the lift.
"Mr. Dravidoff, you have the bridge," he ordered as the lift doors shut.
When the lift opened, he paced down the hall and stopped in front of the steel grey door to Spock's quarters. He'd never gone inside them before, but he'd stood outside of them more times than he could count, trying to absorb some of the Vulcan's presence from the place that he'd spent most of his free time.
On an impulse, he quickly danced his fingers over the security panel. He punched in his code, overriding the security lock out and stepping inside of the dim room.
Heat blasted him as the doors shut, reminding him of the time that he'd ended up wandering through a small piece of the Vulcan's mind. He inhaled deeply through his nose, catching the faint scent of Spock's favourite incense as well as the scent that seemed unique to Spock alone.
Slowly, feeling his stomach tighten with a rush of adrenaline, he walked around the room. It felt like the Vulcan was going to walk in on him at any and demand to know what Kirk was doing in his inner sanctum. He reached out and ran his fingers over the delicate incense holder that was sitting on the coffee table in the regulation living room.
On the wall behind the couch hung a black tapestry with a strange Vulcan symbol embroidered on it in a silver thread. He tilted his head and walked around the table, reaching out and running his fingers over the surprisingly soft fabric. The symbol seemed so delicate that Kirk didn't want to risk touching it too heavily.
Licking his lips, Kirk turned towards the small alcove where he knew Spock's bed would be. He silently stepped over to the doorway, looking in and seeing the rumpled bedding. The sheets were tangled with a thick blanket, bunched at the foot of the bed as if Spock had been having bad dreams when he'd woken for duty the morning of his abduction.
Taking a deep breath, the human stepped into the man's bedroom, noting that beside the bed, the room was almost sterile in its cleanliness. Not a thing was out of place. Even the small comb that Spock would have used before he left his quarters for his duty shift was perfectly aligned with the hair brush.
It made Kirk want to walk over and turn them all sideways.
Fighting the childish impulse, the Captain walked over to the bed and touched one of Spock's pillows. He traced the slight dip in the one on the right hand side. He gave a half smile as he realized that Spock must have slept on the right hand side of the bed. Idly, he wondered if the Vulcan favoured sleeping on his stomach, back, or side.
Closing his eyes, the Captain sighed as grief welled up inside of him. Spock should be here, right now, sleeping on these pillows, using his comb, staring at his tapestry, but he wasn't. Instead, the Vulcan was god knows where being forced to do god knows what. He sat down on the edge of the bed, weariness draining him of all of his strength.
'It should have been me,' he thought, closing his eyes tightly to keep the tears that threatened from spilling over. Even though he'd only known the man for a few months, he felt slightly lost without him. Like a boat that couldn't find a shore.
Flopping back onto the messy bed, the Captain kicked off his boots before he curled up in the middle of the bed. He sighed before he grabbed Spock's pillow and smothered himself with it, breathing in the man's scent. Slowly, muscles that he didn't even know he had relaxed as he felt Spock all around him.
He kept his eyes closed and his face buried in the linen covering the pillow, inhaling the alien scent of the man that he'd been accidentally bonded to.
'Jim...' he heard his name being called softly just as he drifted off to sleep, making his eyes jerk open as he sat up and looked around. He could have sworn that he had heard the Vulcan call his name.
Rubbing his hands roughly over his face, the Captain swung his legs over and headed quickly for the door. Feeling more than slightly foolish, he locked the room behind him and strode to the gym. He hadn't been able to bring himself to touch another person since the night that Spock had explained everything to him, and he needed to work off some of the restless energy and tension that had been building in him.
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Spock waited as long as he could before he left what was now his permanent room. He shivered slightly as he walked down the marble hallways, his bare feet making no noise on the cold marbled stone of the hallway. The weak winter light that filtered in through the open windows did nothing to warm the winter air of the cold little planet that Spock had been taken to days before. His master had decided that he didn't need proper winter clothing as a form of punishment for the last time he'd fought against the man's advances, so the thin pants and sheer, sleeveless tunic that he was now being forced to endure only added to the feeling of degredation that he felt.
As he walked down the nearly deserted hallway, he kept his hands clasped in front of him and his head down. His eyes flicked up for a second through his lashes as the click of military boots sounded around the corner. Quickly, he stepped to the side of the hall and knelt on the cold marble as the Preator's second clicked his way down the hallway.
The Romulan officer slowed and leered at him, licking his lips, but not stopping. Spock was the property of the Preator, and if he was touched by anyone else, they would both pay dearly as one guard had found out the hard way. That was one thing that had been made very clear to him by the possessive officer. While it kept him safe from the other Romulans, Spock still chafed under the rules of his new place in the world.
After nearly a month in the Romulan's care, he'd almost given up on any chance of a rescue. Hope was illogical. He couldn't sit around and wait for Starfleet or his people to come for him. Most likely, the Vulcan High Council wouldn't send anyone anyways. The needs of the many always outweighed the needs of the few, or the one.
He'd had even less hope after they'd left Romulus and had moved to this remote planet somewhere in the outter reaches of Romulan space. The Preator was running a campain from here, so it had kept him from Spock for a few days now. Unfortunately for the Vulcan, the war games had ended and his Master had returned that morning.
Up until that point, the officer had been more than patient, contenet with touching and stroking Spock gently. It had embarassed the Vulcan to no end the first time he'd actually climaxed due to his Master's gentle, expert hands. He hadn't been asked to reciprocate the Romulan's affections. The ebony haired former officer had a feeling, though, that the man's patience was running out.
So he'd submitted to the Preator, forcing down the powerful feelings of outrage and shame that he felt every time the Romulan forced him to his will. Closing his eyes, the Vulcan strengthened his mental barriers, knowing that the officer had a hint of the telepathy that ran strongly in most of Spock's people. The one time he'd been careless and had let his anger and outrage slip, he'd been punished severely.
When the man had disappeared around the corner, Spock rose gracefully to his feet and hurried down the hallway towards his Master's chambers.
Silently, the Vulcan slipped into the room and knelt next to the fireplace, letting the warmth of the flames chase the chill away from his skin. At his master's main house on Romlus, the desert climate was more suited to his needs. Here, on this planet, it was much cooler during the winter months.
And the fact that he wasn't allowed more than the minimum amount of clothes to cover his body didn't help at all.
Patiently, he waited as the man finished up the subspace call to the capitol, discussing matters of little to no importance with the commanders of one of his fleet vessels. As he sat, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths, mentally preparing himself for whatever the man had in mind.
Some days, he knelt here for hours waiting for the Preator to finish his business. Other days, he sat here for only a few minutes before the Romulan deigned to notice him. Today, it appeared that he'd have to wait.
A warm, slightly calloused hand slipped down his quickly growing hair until it stroked the soft skin at the nape of his neck, startling the Vulcan. He hadn't even heard his Master approach. The larger man moved with more stealth than Spock would have ever thought possible. Once, he'd watched his master move up behind one of the guards that had dared to touch him and broken his neck without making a single sound except for the sigh of the man's last breath.
"My apologies for making you wait," the Romulan said, rubbing his hands over Spock's soft skin.
Inclining his head, the Vulcan didn't say anything, having learned that silence was better most of the time with the Preator. He'd had one too many lashes from the man's angry whip when he'd been disobedient to fight him on something as silly as an answer.
Smiling, the Romulan walked back over to his console. "Come here, Spock," he said, using the Vulcan's name for the first time.
Slowly, the Vulcan got to his feet, carefully making his way over to where the Romulan was sitting in his office chair. Keeping his head down, Spock stopped next to the Romulan's chair and dropped to his knees again. "How may I be of assistance, Vadi?" he asked quietly, his rich tenor voice easily being heard over the quiet hum of the large bank of computers.
His fingers itched to touch the beautiful piece of machinery. It seemed like forever since he'd feet the cool, smooth panel of a computer console under his fingers. His Vadi had a very powerful computer in his private rooms, one that was probably capable of sending a subspace signal to Starfleet. Unfortunately, he knew that the computer was coded to accept only the Preator's input and no one else's. Only the genetic code of the Romulan could access even the simplest systems.
Holding himself completely still, the Vulcan kept his shields strong, holding the Romulan out of his mind as the man's hands stroked absently over his hair. When the man's fingers danced over the sensitive tips of his ears, the Vulcan couldn't suppress a shiver as tingles danced up and down his spine.
The Romulan smiled at the involuntary reaction from him. He felt the pleasure and triumph that emanated from the man as his fingertips trailed back down the lobe until he rested the palm of his hand against Spock's neck. The Vulcan had to force himself not to shy away from the touch, keeping his muscles relaxed and pliant.
Keeping his eyes down, he closed the eyes that had always betrayed him the most. They were his mother's eyes, the eyes that were human in all but colour. He knew that if he was to look up, he'd be punished again because of the anger and shame that he knew were shining through his almost black eyes.
Slowly, the Preator slipped his hand under the man's chin and tugged his face upward. Spock kept his eyes shut, letting the tip of his tongue slip out from in between his lips to wet the soft skin. He felt the Preator's sharp eyes focus in on his mouth and he parted them. Hopefully, the man would take him and then let him go back to his rooms. He was still very unsure of this man and what he wanted.
When the warm, soft lips touched his own, Spock held his mental shield for everything he was worth. If the man were to get a hint of the anger and anguish that were rolling his stomach into knots, he would be punished again. He forced his lips to mould against the Romulan's. His mind studied it from a purely scientific point of view, noting that the man had a similar body temperature. It was even a little bit higher than his own due to the cold that he'd been exposed to on his walk over.
"Open your eyes," the Romulan whispered into the kiss, sliding off of his chair and kneeling on the floor in front of the Vulcan.
Swallowing, Spock trailed his fingertips down the front of the man's uniform jacket, letting his eyes open and focus in on the tips of his fingers. He tilted his head to the side as the man's hand slipped under his chin again, trying to force his gaze upwards. Pain had never motivated him until he'd come under the care of the Preator and his devices.
"Shiavo, open your eyes and look at me," the Romulan's voice was commanding, demanding his obedience.
The Vulcan looked up automatically, praying that his eyes wouldn't betray him again. Relief washed through him as the man smiled softly and leaned forward again, apparently pleased with what he'd seen in the dark chocolate depths of Spock's eyes. With a slight bit of unease at the man's mercurial mood, the Vulcan closed the distance between their lips. He rested his hands on his thighs, having been trained to never touch his Vadi unless instructed to do so.
Apparently, though, this wasn't what the Romulan wanted. After a few seconds of gentle kissing, the man pulled back and sighed with a hint of irritation. Immediately, the Vulcan pulled his head back and rested back on his heels. His eyes dropped to the black uniform pants that the man wore and he studied the weave of the fabric as he considered what he could do to keep the man from becoming angry.
"Vadi," he began, keeping his voice lowered to just above a whisper, "How may I assist you?"
When the hand connected with his face, he'd been completely unprepared for the blow, and he lost his balance. He caught himself on his hands and forced himself to remain still. If he ran, he knew the beating would be much worse. During his training, he'd tried to escape once, and once only. Pushing himself back up, he ignored the sting in his cheek from the slap and kept his eyes downcast.
"Shiavo, did I not tell you to look at me?" the Preator growled, making Spock's head snap up to stare at him before he'd fully submerged his feelings.
Spock fought the urge to drop his eyes again as the Romulan's eyes dilated slightly. He felt the man's anger wash over him as he mentally prepared himself for the pain that he knew was coming.
With a growl, the Romulan grabbed Spock's wrists and brought both of his hands up and rested them against his uniform coat. "Touch me, damn you," he demanded, staring into the Vulcan's eyes and daring him to defy.
Anger sparked past his shields as Spock's hands fisted in the Romulan's coat. All he wanted to do was to go back to his room and be left in peace, but he was being forced to play this man's games instead. The sooner the Preator got what he wanted, the sooner he could leave and find what little solace he could from his solitude.
Using that to strengthen his resolve, the Vulcan pushed the man that he'd found himself despising more than anyone in his entire life down, crawling over his prostrate form so that he could kiss his chin softly, before he ripped the edges of the man's uniform coat open. If his Vadi wanted it rough today, Spock would oblige him.
When the Romulan's hands came up and fisted in his longer than normal hair, Spock ran his hands up the man's chest. He tugged at the hem of the undershirt that was tucked securely into the black trousers. When it was free, the Vulcan pushed it up the Romulan's torso, shaking off the hands that were pulling painfully on his hair.
He felt a small wave of nausea roll through him, but he quickly pushed it down as he snapped the man's trouser's open. He slid the zipper down and wiggled his body down the long legs under him. As the hands kept tugging at his hair, Spock forced his mind to go blank, burying the feelings of disgust deep inside.
Keeping his touch gentle, the Vulcan freed his master from the confines of his clothes and trailed kisses down his body, wishing in the depths of his soul that this were a different body entirely. He looked up at the man's hooded eyes, knowing that his Vadi wanted him to look at him.
It was humiliating.
Taking a deep breath, Spock started to lower his lips to grace the man's arousal with a soft kiss when the Romulan's grip in his hair tightened painfully. Wincing, the Vulcan stopped, looking up at the Preator.
"No," the Romulan panted, his tattoos standing out in stark contrast to his slightly flushed skin.
Spock released the man, allowing himself to be pulled to his knees as his master sat up and quickly removed the remnants of the torn uniform. "Go to my room and wait," he ordered, toeing off his boots as he stripped off the rest of his clothes.
Dismayed, the Vulcan stood up and walked into the large bedroom attached to the office. He sank to his knees next to the foot of the bed facing the doorway, watching for the Preator. After about ten minutes, the Romulan walked into the room with a small cup in his hands.
"Drink this," he said, holding the cup out to Spock.
Blinking, the Vulcan licked his lips nervously, but took the cup anyways. He took a sniff of the liquid and recoiled immediately. "Vadi," he started, looking up at the man.
"Drink it, Shiavo, or would you prefer to receive a penance?" the man replied, his voice cold and hard.
With a sinking feeling in his stomach, the Vulcan downed the contents of the cup immediately, not wanting to feel the man's displeasure again. Last time, it had caused him to be whipped until it broke the skin. As much as he distrusted the liquid in the cup, it couldn't possibly be worse or more humiliating than being chained naked in the centre courtyard while the whole household watched him receive lashes. Spock was tired of pain.
As the slightly thick liquid slid down to his stomach, warmth spread through him. He felt his muscles relax and he had trouble focusing his sight. When his heart picked up on speed, he shifted uncomfortably. Blinking, he realized that his body was starting to flush and become aroused against his will.
'A drug,' he thought fuzzily, looking up at the man who was watching him with a hungry expression on his face. He swallowed, tasting the remnants of the sweet liquid on his tongue as a wave of nausea threatened to push the drug out of his body.
Before the nausea could become anything more, the Vulcan felt his body harden painfully. His skin grew sensitive enough that the thin pants that he was wearing felt like sandpaper. Spock whimpered softly as he lost control over his tongue.
"Vadi," he breathed, slowly raising his suddenly heavy eyelids to stare in fascination up at the man who had kept him as a slave for months (weeks?). As soon as he met the other man's eyes, he was fascinated by the unusual golden colour of them. They were surrounded by the stark tattoos that designated the man's high rank in the Romulan Empire. Thick lashes swept over them as he blinked, the dark crescents accentuating the exotic shape.
As he studied the man's face, his body started to burn. He could feel his control slipping away as a tide of lust washed through him. Softly, his lips parted and he reached for the Romulan, forgetting that he wasn't allowed to touch his master without the express permission. When his hand stroked over the clearly defined muscles of the man's abdomen and he wasn't struck down, Spock's fingers trailed up as high as he could while still on his knees.
"Please, Vadi, make the burning stop," he whimpered, the logical part of his mind sinking under the effects of the drug. The man kneeling in front of the Romulan was no longer Spock, the Vulcan First Officer of the Federation Starship Enterprise. What was left was a wanton, someone that ran on nothing more than an instinct.
Right now, that instinct was telling him that the Preator was the only person who could end his torment. Spock rose to his feet and gently pressed his lips to the Romulan's pressing their bodies together and wrapping his arms around the man's strong neck. His fingertips slipped into the military short hair, revelling in the texture as he withered against the Preator's body to try to relieve the ache of his arousal.
A low growl ripped itself out of the Romulan's throat seconds before he backed Spock onto the bed. As the pair sank to the mattress, Spock wrapped his arms and legs around the Preator's body. His back arched upwards to hold the contact between them as his Romulan master gently eased himself inside his slave's body.
Moaning, the Vulcan writhed as the man took him slowly. He panted, arching his back as the skilled hands that could snap his neck in seconds stroked over his willing body easily. Fire danced over his nerves and he closed his eyes and whimpered as he felt the man's hands stroke over the sensitive skin of his hipbones.
"Look at me," the man commanded, his voice rough and deep.
Instantly, Spock's eyes snapped open and he whimpered as he stared at the lust written over the Preator's face. The normally cold eyes were burning, staring back into his own with a fierce determination. He could feel the man's mind, focused on the desire that was racing through them both. Panting, he reached out and grabbed the Romulan's hands where they held his hips. He lifted his hips to give his master better access as he felt his blood alight on fire.
With a loud, heartfelt moan, Spock climaxed as he stared into the Preator's eyes. Seconds later, the Romulan followed him over the precipice. He was still staring into the man's eyes as black started to tint the edges of his vision. The orgasm that he'd just had was draining him of the ability to remain conscious and combined with the effects of the drug quickly pulled him into abyss. He whimpered one last time at the fierce look of satisfaction written over the strong, yet beautiful face of his captor, before the darkness claimed him.
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Spock stared at the familiar vista of the desert planet in front of him. The mountains in the distance rose sharply, helping him focus on something else than the turbulent emotions racing through him. He felt his human eyes brim with moisture, but he blinked rapidly to keep the tears that were threatening to fall from slipping out.
His arms came up and wrapped around his torso as he felt a chill, that had nothing to do with the landscape, slide up his spine. Taking a shuddering breath, Spock let his head drop in defeat, his eyes closing as a single tear slipped out of his eyes and slid down his cheek.
The events of the previous night played behind his eyes again and again, torturing him. His shoulders shook as he remembered the way he'd lost all of his decency. He'd watched as his own body had betrayed him, while he was helpless to stop it. Choking slightly on the sobs that he wouldn't let out, he looked back up at the warmth of the landscape surrounding him.
There in the distance, he saw a figure running towards him. He blinked rapidly to clear the tears away from his vision and the man started to get clearer and clearer. He recognized the confident, sure stride seconds before he threw himself down the slope, tearing through the landscape. He felt the hot air sear his lungs, but he pushed himself forward, desperate to get to Kirk. If he could just get to him, he could tell him where he was...
"Jim!" he yelled, forcing his legs to move faster. He leaped over a large rock in his path, seeing the large smile split the captain's lips.
"Spock!" the man called; his voice still almost too faint to be heard. The human picked up on speed, his legs burying slightly as he dipped into a sand dune and leaped over the top. "Where are you?"
"I'm on," he started before he tripped over a rock and was violently thrown to the sand. He pushed himself up and looked towards the human, his eyes widening with horror as he saw the nude figure that stood between the two of them.
Looking around, the Romulan finally focused on Spock before they turned towards the human that was quickly gaining ground on them. His eyes flashed back to the Vulcan, rage boiling in their depths. Quickly, he strode across the short distance between the two of them.
Wrapping his hand around the Vulcan's arm, he hauled Spock up bodily until they were eye to eye. "I'll never let you go. You're mine," he hissed, giving the slim man a shake before he lowered his lips to claim Spock's resisting ones.
Spock pulled away and looked back at the human who was running flat out, rage adding speed to his steps seconds before he was ripped away. "Jim!" he yelled, trying to reach around the much larger Romulan to reach Kirk.
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Welcome to the end of Chapter 10. :) Hopefully, it wasn't too graphic for everyone. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks to my new Beta, Cami, for her absolutely awesome work. I really appreciate it. As a small side note before I get flamed: No, I do NOT approve of the use of drugs to tame your Sub.
Thanks!
Lee