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Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2004 19:33:47 -0600
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW TOS: Saints 1/1(K/S, K/S/m, bdsm) [NC-17]
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Title:  Saints: Home for Christmas
Author: Lyrastar
Codes: K/S, K/S/m, bdsm
Rating: NC-17
Warning: explicitly pornographic 
Disclaimer: The characters and all their blood relatives are the 
property of Paramount/Viacom.  No money is being made, not even a 
weekend cover charge.
Beta and instigator:  Dina--all remaining mistakes are mine
Feedback: <lyrastarwatcher@yahoo.com> or 
www.geocities.com/lyrastarwatcher
Summary: Based on a leftover challenge.  See details at the end. 
Advertisement:  Part of the Slash Advent Calendar 2003 at 
http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2003



SAINTS:  HOME FOR CHRISTMAS


They strode in together, side by side.  Jim gawked up at the huge 
cathedral dome in wonder.  Spock took him by the elbow and maneuvered 
him past the row of admiring glances, through the entryway and toward 
the dance floor.  From behind, the shirtless bouncer watched them 
with a knowing smile.  First-timers were all alike.  

The stars twinkling from the dome above seemed so real that Jim 
assumed they must be holographic projections.  Spock leaned down to 
his ear and assured him they were not, but the rest of his 
explanation was lost in the thud of the retrotech mix and the blare 
of the speakers.  The dance beat reverberated from all sides and even 
the floor seemed to throb to its pulse.

Everywhere Jim looked, people gyrated to the music.  Most were men.  
Many were not.  Often it was unclear.  Clothing varied from tight and 
sexy, to outrageous, to precious little at all.  People preened and 
posed for partners, sometimes present, others still hypothetical.  
Men felt each other up and out.  Couples, trios, all manner of beings 
moved together on the dance floor in a great, erotic swell.  
Multicolored lights flicked around their bodies revealing just 
tantalizing bits and snatches of the acts.  But up on the balcony 
above the dance floor, men could clearly be seen having sex.  

It was the Second Saint.  In 2188 the dance club had opened in the 
same location where the original Saint had closed two hundred years 
before.  It now had the distinction of being the oldest adult club on 
the North American continent and one of the most stylish as well.  
Neither Jim nor Spock had ever there been before, but from the 
billing, it sounded perfect.  Even a pair of famous Starfleet 
officers could disappear into anonymity among the black light, 
mirrors and strobes.  And seeing it now, Jim was in no way 
disappointed.  

It was a harder to tell with the Vulcan.  As usual, Spock's face was 
a mask.  But the swell in his jeans was a trifle more revealing. 



The Enterprise was in for hull repairs at the Luna port shipyards.  
Since the command crew would not be needed, Jim and Spock had seized 
the opportunity for extended planetside leave together.  And the 
timing had been almost too perfect.  For the first time in eleven 
years, Jim had been able to give in to his mother's wishes and once 
again spend Christmas with her in the old Iowa farmhouse.  For a day 
or two the peace and relaxation of home had been a balm to his 
psyche, too much put upon by the responsibilities of 427 dependent 
lives.  And the memories of the 28 former Enterprise crewmen he had 
commanded who would not be home for Christmas--or ever again.

But somewhat to Spock's surprise, Jim had balked at disclosing to his 
mother the full extent of their newfound relationship.  His mother 
was set in her ways about premarital sex, Jim had said, and he didn't 
want to spoil this special Christmas for her in any way.  When the 
time came for their kal-i-farr Jim said he would tell her then, along 
with the rest of the galaxy.  But for now they would keep their 
secret.   

So Jim slept in his childhood room and Spock slept in Sam's and they 
behaved in all ways like respectable officers and closest friends

But after almost a week, the act was growing old.  The strain was 
telling on Jim at least.  Even his mother seemed to pick up on the 
tension.   Tonight, when she had set the card table for another round 
of three-player pinochle, Jim had announced that he and Spock would 
be going out.  Instead of being disappointed, she had seemed quite 
pleased.  Well, she had been living alone for several years now.  
Perhaps she had grown used to the quiet of her own company.  In any 
event, the men had jumped at the chance and wasted no time in hitting 
a transportation station--destination: New York City, The Second 
Saint. 



On the six-story screen behind the antigrav performance stage, an 
orgy of Klingon warriors proceeded in all of its violent glory.  The 
victim on camera was being handled by his captors with a heavy chain-
link collar.  He roared like a Targ as the dildo entered him from 
behind, but the knife at his throat limited his options for 
resistance.  

One warrior stroked himself, apparently intent on climaxing over the 
victim.  The camera closed in on his dick.  It was bronze and 
beautiful, shiny and ribbed all the way up the shaft.   Feeling the 
precum threatening his clothing, Jim tuned away from the view.  

Up on the floating stage a Deltan couple caressed sensuously as if 
there were no one else in the room.  They both wore dhoti, the front 
fabric raised impressively by their erections.  They touched each 
other underneath the tiny garments.  Paradoxically, or maybe it was 
just his week-long dry spell, this never-ending teasing struck Jim as 
being even sexier than the very act he craved.  Jim slipped his hand 
around Spock's waist and dipped his fingers under the band of Spock's 
jeans.  He stroked the Vulcan's hip and gloried in the unbidden 
response that echoed through the low-level psionic link of their skin 
contact.

Out on the main dance floor, it was a wall to wall crush of bodies.  
Mostly male.  All in heat.  All here for one thing and this was only 
the foreplay.  Jim glanced at Spock and dug his hand deeper into 
Spock's jeans.  They hadn't come here to dance.  Without a word, they 
moved in unison and pushed their way through the boiling mass and up 
the stairs to the uninhibited abandon of the balcony above.

The Vulcan picked a private room, citing matters of decorum.  A 
little disappointed, Jim humored him in this.  But when he stepped 
inside and saw the old metal jail cell cage, his disappointment 
vanished in a heartbeat.  The only other items in the room, beside 
the vidscreen, were a large futon and a wall toiletry dispenser.  

"Spock."  With the single word and gesture, Jim made his intentions 
clear.

Spock entered the cell and closed the metal gate.  He pulled his cock 
loose from his jeans and pressed his pelvis hard against the 
unyielding bars of the old-fashioned metal cage.  His penis sprang 
free and ready, erect between the bars.  He wrapped his hands firmly 
around the cold steel above the level of his shoulders and leaned 
forward and waited, already panting heavily in anticipation.

Jim made an appreciative sound and pursed his lips; Spock's dick 
jumped in response.  Jim winked and turned his attention back to the 
outer door.

He started to engage the outer door lock but, on an impulse, he 
thought the better of it. He closed the door.  It sealed with a 
click, but left the "welcome" notice out and the catch unlocked.  
Always a bit the exhibitionist, tonight, with the pent-up energy and 
the ideas this club inspired, he was ripe to put on quite a show. His 
crotch grew tight at the idea, and he rubbed himself through his 
jeans, but the taste of friction only made the waiting worse.   

Jim crossed back over to Spock and licked his lips at the tempting 
sight.  He knelt in front of the swollen phallus.  It jerked and 
twitched in response as he admired it, aching, touching it only with 
his eyes.  Jim exhaled a full breath around it, and it emitted the 
first puff of pre-release just for him.  Spock's breathing grew 
ragged as he watched, eyes glued to Jim's mouth, surrounding his head 
yet deliberately not touching him anywhere at all.  

Spock pleaded for Jim to lick the residue off, but Jim just shook his 
head and smiled.  Jim exhaled hot and moist and bent his neck, 
enveloping the member, his mouth less than a centimeter away from the 
cock.  Spock pressed himself violently against the bars and pleaded 
for the satisfaction of mouth on skin.

It was not to come.  Jim only ordered him to undress.

The boots came off first, then the jeans and shorts.  When he'd 
finished unbuttoning his crisp, white shirt, Jim stopped him once 
again.   He said he'd changed his mind.  Just leave it open, he 
said.  

Jim reached through the bars and under the shirt. He brushed casually 
over the sensitive hairs, then he narrowed in on his target.  With 
only two fingers he caressed a nipple, rolling it back and forth.  
All at once, Jim pinched it until it must have hurt.  Spock gasped 
and shifted his body for easier access through the bars.  He reached 
up and began working his other nipple in the same manner, massaging 
and pinching alternately, letting his wrist tease the little hairs 
nearby.

The sight of Spock unhinged always sent a flush of pride and love, 
but also raw, undiluted power through the core of Jim's being.  Right 
now the last feeling dominated.  Jim opened his own fly and began to 
beat himself slowly.  Spock groaned in frustration at the contact 
lost.  Jim ordered Spock to do as he did.

Spock stepped back, but Jim barked a 'no'.  Hoarsely Jim instructed 
him to do it through the bars.  Jim's penis oozed again at just the 
mental image.  Jim grabbed the base of his dick and counted to ten.  
He summoned all his willpower.  In a shockingly normal voice he 
repeated his last command.  Then slowly, so slowly, Jim began to 
stroke himself again.

Spock returned to the jail cell grate.  He leaned his body into the 
cold steel bars.  His shirt panels fell apart and one turgid nipple 
poked around the edge.  His chest heaved with the effort at control 
as he slipped his penis though one slot in the bars and a hand 
through another and wrapped his wrist back around to stroke himself 
as ordered.  

Hot with the awareness of Jim watching his every move, Spock closed 
his eyes and rocked his hips.  With precision, he began to use his 
own fingers in the manner that always brought him the most pleasure, 
but slower.  Much slower.  Slower to maintain this state until his 
captain gave him permission to go.  He must maintain control.

He groaned in abject relief as he finally felt the wet, sensual 
muscles of Jim's mouth close over his dick. He dropped his hand and 
leaned even harder into the cage, going limp in every place save one.

With a whoosh, the outer door slid open.  Spock's eyelids flew open 
to their limit.  A young Martian couple flushed orange in the doorway 
and mumbled something about their mistake.  They hastily left again.

Spock choked something out about the door and struggled halfheartedly 
to back away.
Jim only reached a hand through the bars and grabbed Spock's thigh to 
hold him near.  His physical strength was not sufficient, but 
something else obviously was for the Vulcan's feet didn't move but 
his chin began to tremble in place.

Jim sucked harder and pumped his own shaft ever faster.  His dick 
leaked a great dribble of pre-cum over his fingers and he dispersed 
it along his length.  He reached up with his left hand, took Spock's 
balls in his palm and rolled them lovingly in his fingers.  He was 
rewarded by a puff of alien sperm in his mouth and the incoherent 
garble of words that would never make it past Spock's tongue now.

"Human, alien, they all want blow jobs," read the novelty T-shirt.  
It was so true. And Jim had learned quickly what pleasured Spock the 
most.  He worked Spock's head at the back of his throat, tickled the 
locking gland at the base of the penis with the tip of his tongue and 
worked the scrotum with his hand.  Spock cried out, more in pain than 
in pleasure, and reached through the bars for the meld points, but 
Jim pulled away and Spock collapsed against the hard steel in 
frustration.

A cough came from behind them.

Jim spun around.  An Andorian male lounged on the futon watching them 
intently.  One hand was down his short shorts and his antennae 
twitched non-stop.

Jim smiled and pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt.  The Andorian 
pulled his dark blue penis over the top of his shorts and stroked it 
rhythmically.  Up and down, up and down.

Jim stepped out of his pants and shorts and stood naked, palming his 
turgid dick with expertise.   They stroked in counterpoint.  Jim's 
breathing grew coarse and his dick leaked all the more.  

"Jim!"  With naked urgency in his voice, Spock called Jim back to his 
need.  

The Andorian made a polite gesture, deferring to the lovers.  He 
reclined further on the futon and fondled himself, prepared to enjoy 
the show.

Naked, Jim moved like a god.  His skin glistened with sweat as he 
approached the cage.  

Spock shivered in raw need.  His dick burgeoned brown with blood and 
he undulated helplessly against the cage.  Enough was enough.

The wall dispensers held condoms, sperm inactivator, and lube.  
Taking a dose of the lube, Jim greased his palm then transferred it 
playfully to Spock.  Spock gasped at the touch and his swollen member 
sprayed another small jet of dry sperm.  Jim backed up to the bars 
and raised his ass in the air.  Spock said something about mechanical 
advantage and logical positions to which Jim made a rude response and 
inched back a little farther.  

With a breath, Spock steadied his dick and rammed it home.  

The bars posed an interesting complication, but they soon found their 
rhythm just the same.  Jim had just announced that he was going to 
come when the door whooshed open once again.  A statuesque humanoid 
in a black vinyl catsuit strutted in.  Jim grabbed his dick and 
rocked his hips and prepared to give the performance of his 
lifetime.  But something about those stiletto heels poised in front 
of his nose looked strangely familiar.  

Oh no.  He glanced up into the face.  

"MOM?"


~Lyra
November 2003



The challenge: Jim and Spock are visiting Iowa and get caught in the 
act (something really obvious and graphic) by Jim's mom. What 
happens? 





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