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NEW TOS KFF 1/1 Echo of Gothos

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Mickey

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Jun 26, 2001, 8:14:44 AM6/26/01
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From: tara...@mediaone.net (Mickey)

Title: Echo of Gothos
Author: Mickey
Feedback: javab...@hotmail.com
Series: TOS
Part: 1/2
Rating: [NC-17] mild BDSM
Codes: K/Trelane
Archiving: Help yourself.
Thanks: to Aseret for her excellent editing!
Summary: Entry for the Kirk Fuh-q Fest. Kirk/ Trelane.
Also the sequel to my story Return of the Squire. The first story
featured the return of Trelane who originally tormented the
Enterprise crew as a misbehaved child. In Return of the
Squire he was a troubled teen who summoned Kirk and
Spock back to Gothos for some adult-style games. The time
frame of Return was between This Side of Paradise - Spock's
frolic on Omicron Ceti III and The Devil In The Dark visit to
Horta land. The Sequel, Echo of Gothos begins after the mission
to Janus VI of the Devil In The Dark. Trelane comes back to help
Kirk cope with being such a sissy-boy.

Echo of Gothos

by Mickey

"*Spock.*" He awakened with the name on his lips, flushed with arousal.
A massive erection rose from deep within his body and climbed heavily
to the tip of his dick. He stretched voluptuously with sleepy yearning.

"Guess again Captain," whispered a voice nearby. The voice of Trelane;
all its music and mockery compressed into a quiet cooing in the dark.
It snapped James Kirk fully awake in a heartbeat of alarm.

"It is I," sighed Trelane. The light in Kirk's quarters rose to low
luminescence punctuated by the golden flicker of candlelight. There
sat his erstwhile enemy, right beside the bed in a throne-like chair,
ornately carved and thickly upholstered. It would have been at home
in a museum of seventeenth century earth artifacts. Beyond, the spare,
smooth surface of Kirk's desk reflected light from a blazing candlebra.

Trelane was smiling slightly, just a curl of his lip. He was costumed
with all the foppish trappings he favored; tight cream-colored velvet
trousers and billowing white silk blouse. Cascades of lace spilled
down his chest.

Kirk was still suffering the aftershocks of his last meeting with
this creature. Only days had passed since Trelane had held him and
his First Officer prisoner in the manor house on Gothos, forcing
them to enact a dangerous game of bondage and violence, of sex.
The captain of the Enterprise had only barely begun to get his
footing in the dangerous, rocky terrain of desire he'd discovered
in the midst of those games.

He studied Trelane as if he were a dangerous animal, trying
not to let his fear show, trying to gauge the animal's intent.
He'd seen Trelane tamed by Spock, docile under the Vulcan's
hands, but thought, //not a threat to *Spock*, but to me ...//

"A private party for two, Captain Kirk." He smiled more broadly.
"Mr. Spock will not be joining us this evening. He is," Trelane
paused and glanced off into the distance for a moment. His
expression softened and grew more serious. As the seconds
passed the look on his face became almost *sensuous*, eyes
closing and reopening reluctantly, as if he were enjoying a
caress, " ... currently engaged in a very deep meditation."

The restraints on Kirk's wrists and ankles were so soft that
he didn't feel them until he tried to move and discovered
mere inches of freedom. He could do no more than bend
his knees and elbows. The movement drew Trelane's eyes
back to him, smiling again as he watched him test the
limits of the deceptively comfortable restraints.

"Don't bother to struggle. I'm here to help you."

"*Help* me?" he asked with careful irony, not wanting
to make his captor angry. "By breaking into my quarters
and tying me up? I don't think I need that kind of help,
Trelane. Haven't we played enough games?"

"This is more than a game and, yes, I am here to *help* you."
He swept his eyes over Kirk's body. "What a pity, you seem
to have lost your magnificent erection. It was quite impressive.
Nevermind. We'll get it back." He held out his hand and an ancient
riding crop appeared from thin air in his grasp, a slender, supple
rod that tapered into a leather loop at its tip. Kirk twisted in
his bonds in spite of himself. There was no escaping whatever
Trelane wanted to do but his body reacted of its own volition.
He was sickened to feel his cock surge up hard again.

"There now. Much better," Trelane said soothingly. "I didn't
even have to touch you. Just the sight of it makes you respond."
He rested it on Kirk's thigh. "You hate it, don't you. You loathe
yourself for getting so hard." He stroked the man's leg with the
crop, stopping short of his erection. "It's utterly pointless to
deny what you crave. It's not ... what is the *mot juste*?" he
asked, lifting the slender weapon in the air he waved it in a
small circle as if to help himself think. "It's not *logical*," he
said, stretching out the last word.

He brought it down again in a tentative slow motion and skimmed
it lightly across the tented bedcover shaping Kirk's hardened sex.
Then he snapped the crop, delivering a slap to the erect flesh, more
of a threat than an attack.

"Your resistance is more than illogical. It's dangerous. I feel
forced to admit that I don't mind *your* suffering, per se." His
tone began with mock sympathy but grew more serious as he
continued. "It's one thing, however, to cause yourself needless
suffering. It's something else entirely when you cause the Vulcan
to suffer. I can't allow that to continue."

"Release me now Trelane," Kirk commanded quietly, keeping his
voice deliberately calm.

"So *like* you, so true to character for you to issue an order
while I'm clearly in charge. Of course it's part of your charm.
It's part of why he loves you." He noted this wistfully. "The
power of command you wield. Admirable ... but I have no intention
of releasing you. There are quite a few things I want to say and I
want you to pay attention."

"Untie me and we'll talk," Kirk suggested. For a brief moment he
thought that Trelane might do just this. He certainly *did* seem
to want to talk. He was no longer quite the willful child he'd been
or even the rebellious teenager Kirk had last encountered. //He
*has* changed.// But how? Kirk remembered how the Vulcan had
made love to Trelane, the images were bittersweet, Spock's
tenderness, how he had finally touched the young man with such
gentle concern. The memory gave him little comfort. Was Trelane
his enemy now, or his *rival*?

Even as Kirk thought he saw a softening in his captor, the
dangerous animal seemed to lurk behind the subtle smile on
Trelane's lips. The crop twitched in his grasp.

"There are many interesting things I could tell you about your
First Officer, Captain." As he spoke he lowered the tapered rod
gently and began to stroke Kirk's erection, teasing with varied
pressures, moving up the shaft lightly and then pressing hard
against the cluster of sensitive nerves just below the head of
it. Kirk tried to lay still and focus only on what was being said,
not on the sensations of pleasure spreading through his groin, but
the two were blending in a wave, the words entering the pool of
growing warmth inside him. He hungered for what Trelane would
say as much as he hungered to feel more pressure on his cock.

"What I saw when Spock's mind touched mine was a revelation,
Captain. What he *allowed* me to see. You cannot imagine." He
seemed to drift again for a moment, in reverie, as he manipulated
the crop against Kirk's flesh.

"The Vulcan mind is a wondrous thing." He stopped stroking and
the man's hips moved restlessly wanting the sensation to come
back. Kirk made himself be still but watched the tip of the crop
rise up to his chest. It hovered over the edge of the sheet at his
breast bone. Trelane slid it slowly under the cottony fabric with
a gentle precision.

"Let's get a better look at you, shall we? Ahh, yes." The tip slid
down Kirk's chest, making him shiver, taking the covers with it.
"Here they are. Spock finds these pink nipples so irresistible.
Attractive, I suppose, in a way." He used the flexible leather tip
of the crop to make a slow feather-light circle around one nub of
flesh, raising gooseflesh in its wake and then the other. Kirk's
tender skin tightened into knots and he felt the heat of a blush
start in his chest and rise up in a tingling rush, through his neck
and into his face.

"Yes, indeed. A wondrous thing. Spock explored my consciousness
like a lover, touching at the edges and moving slowly inward. Are
you jealous? You should be. He gave me his thoughts. It was," he
took a deep breath, "extraordinary." He stroked upward with the
leather tip, tracing a ticklish line to Kirk's throat, he held it
under his chin where he pressed it up flat to his jaw. "In the
deepest chambers of that orderly mind he burns for you."

//*Spock!// Kirk saw him in his mind and his mouth watered
with desire.

"I watched him break through you, layer by layer. He took you
apart, all your shame and guilt crumbling in his hands until
there was only pleasure like a pool of gold. Ahh, Spock."

Kirk was confused by the tenderness of Trelane's words. He
could taste the sweetness of them. But could he trust him?
Trust this feeling? He watched the weapon which had been
resting gently under his chin rise in the air.

"Why are you doing this Trelane?" he demanded softly.

"To demonstrate something. Something important." Kirk forced
himself to look at Trelane's face, to meet his eyes dead on and
resist the lure of his words.

"To demonstrate that I can be aroused while I'm tied up?"Kirk
sputtered. "How much more proof do you need?"

"The question is, how much more proof do *you* need? How
much more proof of how good it feels to let someone else
control you ... " He twitched the crop through the air thoughtfully.
"You are horribly ungrateful."

He slid his hips forward in the chair and spread his legs apart.
Kirk saw there was a bulge now in the velvet covering his crotch.
As Kirk watched, he began stroking himself. "It's knowing how
much the sight of you arouses *him* that turns me on, Captain."
His thighs tensed perceptibly as he rubbed himself through the
fabric. "He worships you, every pale inch of your skin, every golden
hair on your body, every shifting color in your eyes. He can't see
the curve of your ass without burning to fuck you. ... Now the blood
is pounding, isn't it?"

Kirk didn't answer. He didn't have to. Trelane's words poured oil
on the flame in the pit of his belly, making his cock jerk under
the light covering, making his hips betray him with a liquid
motion of longing. //Spock!//

He'd fallen asleep that night in sheer exhaustion from running
his brain in tortured circles around his desire. The days he'd
spent avoiding his First Officer seemed to span a thousand years.
Since the morning he'd woken up alone in Spock's bed, in a mess
of sheets that reeked of sex, he had stayed as far away from the
Vulcan as he could. He'd spent only one night with Spock and waking
up afterwards had been like coming to in the *wrong* place after a
night of drinking. All the pleasure of the night before had been burned
away under the brutal scrutiny of his own waking mind. Vivid images
of himself aroused by pain, by submission; the picture in his mind of
himself helpless with longing under Spock's impassive gaze had made
him cringe with shame. He'd hurriedly gathered his clothes and escaped
through the door that separated their quarters, before Spock could return.

The miners' disaster on Janus VI had temporarily over-ridden
everything else, steadying him and centering him with the
need to act. For blessed hours, Spock had once again been his
trusted First Officer, the man he depended on for answers no
one else could give, the man whose judgement seemed almost
infallible. Kirk was comfortable admiring him without the
conflicts of conscious desire. Seeing his handsome features
and graceful movements in the context of watching him work
was a familiar pleasure; he'd indulged in it since he'd taken command
of the Enterprise. Spock in Vandenberg's office the morning the
Chief Engineer had briefed them, studying the silicon orb poised
on his fingertips - the sight had struck Kirk as exquisitely beautiful.

Awkward jolts and intrusions of his *other* awareness of Spock
had plagued him off and on through the day. When Spock had seemed
to contradict one his orders, Kirk knew his reaction to it was way out
of line. He'd made an outrageous accusation of insubordination because
he thought Spock was treading on intimate ground in public, trying to
*dominate* him in front of the crew.

Watching Spock meld with the Horta, however, had stripped Kirk to
naked fear. Spock's steady voice wracked with pain was unbearable, it
ripped at his heart to see such violent emotion. But worse was a separate
and purely selfish pain, realizing the full impact of the Vulcan's telepathic
abilities. //What did he see when he touched *me*?// Kirk had filled
with hot shame, appalled by the thought of ever meeting those dark eyes
straight on again. He'd struggled to treat Spock the way he had before,
managing to produce an awkward imitation of himself. The Vulcan had
seen it for what it was and tacitly acknowledged Kirk's need for
distance by steering as clear of him as possible.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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