Opening the Way
Life is good over on st_xi_kink . So many wishes, so many wishes fulfilled.
Here's a reply to this prompt, posted by the ever-creative Anon.:
"Vulcans are extremely sexually repressed, so when they do cross that line and get horny they are kinky as Hell. Fic request of either Sarek or Spock masturbating or doing something kinky. Get creative!"
I was charged by this idea, and intrigued by recumbentgoat 's assertion that she would give ovaries (not clear whether hers or . . .) to see a kinky Sarek.
So here it is.
Title: Opening the Way
Length: short
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Sarek, Other
Warnings: mild BDSM, dubcon, voyeurism, masturbation, and lots and lots of hand porn.
The novice stood in the center of the circular dias. A shaft of light from the vaulted ceiling illuminated her sheer tunic and glinted off the metal encircling her wrists.
Her name was Synnae.
She was light-haired with eyes of an azure rarely seen at all on Vulcan, let alone in one of its people. Her silky bob framed a heart-shaped face with ears that curved delicately. This by itself would have been enough to stir Sarek's blood. Yet his presence at this particular ritual promised a great deal more.
The ambassador sat motionless on a thronelike chair polished smooth by centuries of use. A roughly-woven curtain, the same dun color as the stone chamber separated this cool, dim alcove from the brightly lit dias and its occupants, thus making it possible for him to observe the activities before him while remaining unobserved in turn. The hood of his robes, pulled far forward, served as an extra precaution.
The master's face, in contrast, was highly visible. Her name was T'Khaliss, and her success in inducting the most wayward young Vulcans into the mysteries of Kolinahr was well-known, although her exact methods remained privy only to a select few.
Yet Sarek, as the patriarch of one of Vulcan's most elite clans, was among the cognoscenti. And though a byzantine set of intermediaries, he had been able to arrange for his presence in the sanctuary on this day.
T'Khaliss addressed her charge. "Novice Synnae, you understand the purpose of this trial?"
"Yes, honored Master."
"Speak, so that I may know the extent of your understanding."
Her young face was serene, and her voice even. "After having disgraced my family, and that of my formerly-betrothed. The Way of Kolinahr was opened to me."
"Tell me specifically the reason for your presence here."
"My frequent, " and there was the briefest hesitation, "slips, Master, since my coming of age."
"Meaning your unforgivable emotional displays, which have caused a rift between two of the greatest houses of T'Khasi."
Synnae lowered her voice, both in pitch and volume. "Yes, Master."
"And this day shall be a test of what?"
"Of my progress, Master." And she swallowed, so that the movement of her supple throat was, even to Sarek, quite visible.
"Then let us begin."
T'Khaliss glided forward and removed Synnae's bonds, both the metal cuffs, and their connecting bar which had kept her wrists separated for what Sarek understood to have been many days. The novice held her hands forward, palms down, arms bent at the elbows. Her garment for this ritual was a floor-length tunic that revealed her neck and her arms to the shoulder. By Vulcan standards, it was positively indecent
T'Khaliss held forth a terpau, a slim, flexible wand commonly carried by the masters. With it, she began to stroke the girl's forearms, lightly at first, and slowly, eventually progressing forward to the backs of her hands.
The room was utterly still. Both T'Khaliss and Sarek watched for signs of wavering control.
Synnae was beginning to show signs of arousal. Sarek drew a silent breath as he watched the jade flush tinting her pale cheeks and ears. Such reactions were instinctive, of course, and could not be controlled except by an adept such as T'Khaliss herself. But the next reaction, a twitch of the hands, as if she wanted to close them into fists, was a sign that her composure had already begun to melt.
Sarek clenched the fingers of one hand, lifting the other to brush it against the fold of his robe, one that that he had carefully draped over the armrest. The texture of the garment provided a pleasing sensation against his metacarpals. Very soon, the stimulation brought by merely grazing the fabric provided insufficient and he moved on to a steady rubbing.
Meanwhile, T'Khaliss had progressed to caressing the sensitive webbing between Synnae's fingers. She had a fine retinue of techniques. At first there was gentle tapping. Next, she slid the length of the rod between those lissome digits. At last she reversed the instrument and put the handle, the ridged handle, between Synnae's fingers, sliding more strongly and rapidly.
The sensation of fullness at Sarek's groin was most agreeable. After days of self-denial he at last gave in to the urge to let his legs fall apart. His lips parted also, his eyes intent.
With a sudden jerk, T'Khaliss, divested the girl of her tunic. A single pull at the nape was all it took to send the pale garment rippling down to pool on the dias. Synnae's firm, high breasts were graced by stiff nipples, their virescence a gratifying contrast to the alabaster of her skin. The same arousal could be seen coloring her mons, which was quite exposed, having been ritually depilated for the occasion.
The bulge at Sarek's groin had begun to throb now, in time with his rapid pulse. His sharp eyes could detect an equally elevated rhythm in Synnae's throat. Slowly, silently, he brought his hands together, folding them, caressing the backs of each with the fingers of the other, all the while fighting the urge to shift in his seat.
Suddenly, the novice gasped in the quiet of the chamber. She closed her eyes. Her knees buckled.
At this wanton loss of control, Sarek gritted his teeth. The tumescence of his penile sac had reached such a point as to necessitate sweeping aside his robes and unfastening the pants he wore beneath. The release of pressure allowed his penis to slide completely free of his body, a glistening emerald column in the cool, dry air.
He exhaled. It was nearly silent. Nonetheless, Synnae's sharp ears detected it and her clever mind deduced what it must mean. She colored still further.
But T'Khaliss ignored it. "Synnae, you understand the meaning of your lapse?"
"Yes," she whispered.
It seemed as if all of the roiling lust contained within that slender body expressed itself in that single word. Sarek clasped his hands savagely, feelings of hot lust surging through his body. Such a failure after months of study. How remarkably depraved.
"We shall continue." intoned T'Khaliss. "Kneel."
Two faults at this juncture. Not only did Synnae hesitate to follow the order, but she was no longer able to keep her head level. T'Khaliss dealt her flanks a lightning-quick blow, the pain an appropriate reminder to obey.
Gracefully, the light-haired Vulcan sank into a graceful kneeling position, knees apart, elbows still bent at right angles.
The master continued dryly. "The fingers of your dominant hand. Suck them."
Synnae's eyes widened at this lewd request, but she moved swiftly to obey, allowing the other hand to come to rest on one pale thigh.
A growl rose within Sarek as sensations lain dormant these many days woke, struggled to assert themselves. Rather than emit the sound, he chose to wrap a hand around the base of his erection, already hot and well-lubricated in the manner of his race. But he did not pump himself -- not yet. The intense sensations of palm against lok would bring on his climax sooner, he calculated, than this whorish novice would take to lose the last vestiges of her control.
The high chamber was very still. Nonetheless, Sarek could discern soft, suckling sounds, as Synnae inserted first one, then two fingers up to the first knuckle, the second.
"To the base." T'Khaliss urged. She was entirely detached.
Once Synnae complied with this most recent directive, Sarek was unable to help himself. His hand moved rapidly on his own tumescence, sliding easily over that well-oiled heat. His mouth was open, his gaze riveted to the girl's shining fingers and her soft, pouting lips. Her flush had progressed to that critical chalice at the base of her throat and her inner eyelids had closed, filming the intense blueness.
Sarek's hand sped up, moving until it was almost a blur.
Suddenly, the novice moaned around her hand and the silver ovoid, which she had been working desperately to hold inside of her, fell ringing to the dias -- a dramatic announcement of a most spectacular failure.
The ambassador heard it as music. He came just a few strokes later, semen arcing to fall just short of the curtain, his mouth open in a twisted, silent, scream.
He allowed himself a few moments for his nictitating membranes to retract, and his penis to return to its place inside his body. Then he stood, fastened, and allowed his robes to fall back into place. With a swirl of those same garments he retreated swiftly down the very tunnel that had admitted him.
A pity for the girl, he mused, striding down the ancient pathway. This latest failure would make her subsequent training all the more difficult.
However, he found himself anticipating these next few trials most keenly.
Here's a reply to this prompt, posted by the ever-creative Anon.:
"Vulcans are extremely sexually repressed, so when they do cross that line and get horny they are kinky as Hell. Fic request of either Sarek or Spock masturbating or doing something kinky. Get creative!"
I was charged by this idea, and intrigued by recumbentgoat 's assertion that she would give ovaries (not clear whether hers or . . .) to see a kinky Sarek.
So here it is.
Title: Opening the Way
Length: short
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Sarek, Other
Warnings: mild BDSM, dubcon, voyeurism, masturbation, and lots and lots of hand porn.
The novice stood in the center of the circular dias. A shaft of light from the vaulted ceiling illuminated her sheer tunic and glinted off the metal encircling her wrists.
Her name was Synnae.
She was light-haired with eyes of an azure rarely seen at all on Vulcan, let alone in one of its people. Her silky bob framed a heart-shaped face with ears that curved delicately. This by itself would have been enough to stir Sarek's blood. Yet his presence at this particular ritual promised a great deal more.
The ambassador sat motionless on a thronelike chair polished smooth by centuries of use. A roughly-woven curtain, the same dun color as the stone chamber separated this cool, dim alcove from the brightly lit dias and its occupants, thus making it possible for him to observe the activities before him while remaining unobserved in turn. The hood of his robes, pulled far forward, served as an extra precaution.
The master's face, in contrast, was highly visible. Her name was T'Khaliss, and her success in inducting the most wayward young Vulcans into the mysteries of Kolinahr was well-known, although her exact methods remained privy only to a select few.
Yet Sarek, as the patriarch of one of Vulcan's most elite clans, was among the cognoscenti. And though a byzantine set of intermediaries, he had been able to arrange for his presence in the sanctuary on this day.
T'Khaliss addressed her charge. "Novice Synnae, you understand the purpose of this trial?"
"Yes, honored Master."
"Speak, so that I may know the extent of your understanding."
Her young face was serene, and her voice even. "After having disgraced my family, and that of my formerly-betrothed. The Way of Kolinahr was opened to me."
"Tell me specifically the reason for your presence here."
"My frequent, " and there was the briefest hesitation, "slips, Master, since my coming of age."
"Meaning your unforgivable emotional displays, which have caused a rift between two of the greatest houses of T'Khasi."
Synnae lowered her voice, both in pitch and volume. "Yes, Master."
"And this day shall be a test of what?"
"Of my progress, Master." And she swallowed, so that the movement of her supple throat was, even to Sarek, quite visible.
"Then let us begin."
T'Khaliss glided forward and removed Synnae's bonds, both the metal cuffs, and their connecting bar which had kept her wrists separated for what Sarek understood to have been many days. The novice held her hands forward, palms down, arms bent at the elbows. Her garment for this ritual was a floor-length tunic that revealed her neck and her arms to the shoulder. By Vulcan standards, it was positively indecent
T'Khaliss held forth a terpau, a slim, flexible wand commonly carried by the masters. With it, she began to stroke the girl's forearms, lightly at first, and slowly, eventually progressing forward to the backs of her hands.
The room was utterly still. Both T'Khaliss and Sarek watched for signs of wavering control.
Synnae was beginning to show signs of arousal. Sarek drew a silent breath as he watched the jade flush tinting her pale cheeks and ears. Such reactions were instinctive, of course, and could not be controlled except by an adept such as T'Khaliss herself. But the next reaction, a twitch of the hands, as if she wanted to close them into fists, was a sign that her composure had already begun to melt.
Sarek clenched the fingers of one hand, lifting the other to brush it against the fold of his robe, one that that he had carefully draped over the armrest. The texture of the garment provided a pleasing sensation against his metacarpals. Very soon, the stimulation brought by merely grazing the fabric provided insufficient and he moved on to a steady rubbing.
Meanwhile, T'Khaliss had progressed to caressing the sensitive webbing between Synnae's fingers. She had a fine retinue of techniques. At first there was gentle tapping. Next, she slid the length of the rod between those lissome digits. At last she reversed the instrument and put the handle, the ridged handle, between Synnae's fingers, sliding more strongly and rapidly.
The sensation of fullness at Sarek's groin was most agreeable. After days of self-denial he at last gave in to the urge to let his legs fall apart. His lips parted also, his eyes intent.
With a sudden jerk, T'Khaliss, divested the girl of her tunic. A single pull at the nape was all it took to send the pale garment rippling down to pool on the dias. Synnae's firm, high breasts were graced by stiff nipples, their virescence a gratifying contrast to the alabaster of her skin. The same arousal could be seen coloring her mons, which was quite exposed, having been ritually depilated for the occasion.
The bulge at Sarek's groin had begun to throb now, in time with his rapid pulse. His sharp eyes could detect an equally elevated rhythm in Synnae's throat. Slowly, silently, he brought his hands together, folding them, caressing the backs of each with the fingers of the other, all the while fighting the urge to shift in his seat.
Suddenly, the novice gasped in the quiet of the chamber. She closed her eyes. Her knees buckled.
At this wanton loss of control, Sarek gritted his teeth. The tumescence of his penile sac had reached such a point as to necessitate sweeping aside his robes and unfastening the pants he wore beneath. The release of pressure allowed his penis to slide completely free of his body, a glistening emerald column in the cool, dry air.
He exhaled. It was nearly silent. Nonetheless, Synnae's sharp ears detected it and her clever mind deduced what it must mean. She colored still further.
But T'Khaliss ignored it. "Synnae, you understand the meaning of your lapse?"
"Yes," she whispered.
It seemed as if all of the roiling lust contained within that slender body expressed itself in that single word. Sarek clasped his hands savagely, feelings of hot lust surging through his body. Such a failure after months of study. How remarkably depraved.
"We shall continue." intoned T'Khaliss. "Kneel."
Two faults at this juncture. Not only did Synnae hesitate to follow the order, but she was no longer able to keep her head level. T'Khaliss dealt her flanks a lightning-quick blow, the pain an appropriate reminder to obey.
Gracefully, the light-haired Vulcan sank into a graceful kneeling position, knees apart, elbows still bent at right angles.
The master continued dryly. "The fingers of your dominant hand. Suck them."
Synnae's eyes widened at this lewd request, but she moved swiftly to obey, allowing the other hand to come to rest on one pale thigh.
A growl rose within Sarek as sensations lain dormant these many days woke, struggled to assert themselves. Rather than emit the sound, he chose to wrap a hand around the base of his erection, already hot and well-lubricated in the manner of his race. But he did not pump himself -- not yet. The intense sensations of palm against lok would bring on his climax sooner, he calculated, than this whorish novice would take to lose the last vestiges of her control.
The high chamber was very still. Nonetheless, Sarek could discern soft, suckling sounds, as Synnae inserted first one, then two fingers up to the first knuckle, the second.
"To the base." T'Khaliss urged. She was entirely detached.
Once Synnae complied with this most recent directive, Sarek was unable to help himself. His hand moved rapidly on his own tumescence, sliding easily over that well-oiled heat. His mouth was open, his gaze riveted to the girl's shining fingers and her soft, pouting lips. Her flush had progressed to that critical chalice at the base of her throat and her inner eyelids had closed, filming the intense blueness.
Sarek's hand sped up, moving until it was almost a blur.
Suddenly, the novice moaned around her hand and the silver ovoid, which she had been working desperately to hold inside of her, fell ringing to the dias -- a dramatic announcement of a most spectacular failure.
The ambassador heard it as music. He came just a few strokes later, semen arcing to fall just short of the curtain, his mouth open in a twisted, silent, scream.
He allowed himself a few moments for his nictitating membranes to retract, and his penis to return to its place inside his body. Then he stood, fastened, and allowed his robes to fall back into place. With a swirl of those same garments he retreated swiftly down the very tunnel that had admitted him.
A pity for the girl, he mused, striding down the ancient pathway. This latest failure would make her subsequent training all the more difficult.
However, he found himself anticipating these next few trials most keenly.