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AUTHOR: From your friendly neighborhood Romulan,
Salatrel
SERIES: Mirror TOS
CODES: M/M ..Yes you read it right SLASH!!!!!
WARNINGS: This is NOT NICE SEX!! Violent in fact.
I do not want the warnings and codes to give away any nice surprises.
SUMMARY: Doesn't the title say enough? T'Pring
is upon the sands of Vulcan awaiting her mate at the appointed time, at
the appointed place. BUT she has an ace up her sleeve or so she thinks.
Archive: If anyone on ASC has time ..yea sure.
Just let me know, please?
Disclaimer: Rodenberry and his crew nor even
Paramount never dreamed this could happen to their toys! I just used the
names but did not receive any money for it.. Would you pay me for this?
I don't' think so!
Special thanks to Reesha. This was her dream! I just wrote it. So blame her or thank her...
And thank you to Gayle Potts and Selek for their support..I love you guys!
As the winds buffeted her silver, ceremonial gown, the bride to be closed her eyes, taking in the warm, dry desert air. Faint orange lights of dawn kissed the distant horizon as the sun of Vulcan began its ascension. Once again she stood on the plains of his ancestral grounds. Fury seethed, hardening her heart and once again this woman hoped... no she yearned for her mate's death. This lifetime of being challenged, then brutalized had taken it toll on the Vulcan woman.
T'Pring, a matriarch in her right, was successful and strong, with a reputation for logic and business that was unmatched within her circle. Her life had been the perfect example of Vulcan precepts, save for his one matter. The matter that was closest to her heart, the matter which woke her in the night panic stricken. She had a dream of freedom from his brutal passion.
So here she was, again, awaiting him at the place of marriage or challenge. Her champion struggled with his own mating fire. Poised and ready to kill him, strike him down and take her as his. T'Pring had walked this avenue so many time, she had lost count and each time it ended in utter failure. She had attempted peaceful overtures to her bondmate, pleaded with him to be released from their bond. Bribed, reasoned, threatened, seduced, all to no avail. He, who had been selected for her when she was a child, had vowed to never release her from this bond. And T'Pring had no choice, for he came for her ..every time.
He had the choice of The Empire, men and women, slaves and world leaders alike. He partook of their flesh and minds, but he always returned to her in these times. Her ovulation a beacon to him, her telepathic mating fire igniting his loins. She never called to him, never attempted to share in the link, but he persisted. Every time that he returned to her, to mate with her, he promised his eternal desire of renewing this bond with her for all the days of their lives. No matter what champion she chose. He would take that one's life and/or his passions as well. The challenger's life was spared, if he could only withstand the ferocity of this Plak Tow. Most had few had died.
T'Pring was not certain what had precipitated his persistence. Perhaps it had been because she had initially rejected him and this was his retribution of that dishonor? But to take her children? To force her to live a life of solitary terror? She did not realize that revenge still existed in her people's mindset.
But it was his people's way. The way of the other half of his heritage. Those who were less than equals, by most Vulcan standards. His was a race that had swarmed through the quadrant, like a plague, gobbling up the resources of a multitude of planets, devouring their souls, then enslaving those left in their wake, forcing them to a life of servitude.
T'Pring's people had seen the merit of an early
alliance with these locust creatures. It was only their scientific prowess
that the humans respected, thereby preventing the humans from enslaving
the Vulcans as well. Not to mention the ruthlessness by which Vulcans attacked
a scientific or moral dilemma. Vulcan had become an integral component
of the Empire.
Now T'Pring waited for her half Vulcan mate to
once again claim her. It would be a repulsive repeat of all those other
matings. But this time there was a glimmer of hope. She had been informed
of an injury and his strength might not be as formidable. Her young champion
was strong and skilled. Perhaps this time she would be free from the iron
grip of this madman.
Upon their betrothal, he had emerged from the seclusion of his caste. A remote desert clan that his father had sent him off to for training. Thus the babe had been swaddled and sent off to the desert caste to be trained in the warrior arts. The boy's ruthless and rapid progress was reported to the family. His mother had insisted that he take a wife, a full Vulcan wife. The matriarch, T'Pau, of their clan had agreed. Any offspring of this unyielding half-breed male would be highly prized. To squirrel him away to a backwards clan with no hope for the future would be an atrocious waste of resources, T'Pau had insisted.
At age 7, he had been summoned to participate in his own bonding. The dark brooding sky had boomed and flashed white with lightening as an infrequent storm threatened the day. Her intended was a wild child of the desert: haggard and filthy. His aroma was both offensive and strangely stimulating to the equally young T'Pring. After their minds were joined by T'Pau, her betrothed left. Abandoned the family and her in favor of returning to his desert warrior caste. Raindrops fluttered her lashes as T'Pring watched him traipse through the sands, back into the void. It had taken her father's firm grip upon her shoulder to urge her from her vigil and out of the rain shower.
That had been nearly fifty ago. Now every seven years of their adult life he returned from the stars to brutalize her body and mind and that of her challenger. So many had pledged their life to assist her in obtaining her freedom. And every single one, after participating in this gruesome, but strangely delicious triad would flee. Some had taken their own lives after such delightful dishonor. Going mad in the aftermath of such an overwhelming mind and bodily rape. Some had taken another mate to return to a life of normalcy, severing all ties with her. No one blamed T'Pring for her fortunes. It was none of her doing. It was kaadith, fate, which had provided this woman with her ordeal. And no one more than T'Pring knew how horrific and compelling this bondmate was.
The jangling of wedding chimes initiated the ceremony. An anxious T'Pring began to hyperventilate and quiver in anticipation. Her heart beat quicker and her face flushed green and warm. It would start as it always did. With his dark earnest gaze meeting hers, he would silently ask the same question. Do you choose me?
As her marriage litter approached, his family drew to the perimeter of the grounds. His mother was the paramount creature in the gathering. Terrans aged so quickly. T'Pring remembered her mother-in-law as she was in her youth, but she was still a striking being with her gray hair, light complexion, icy blue eyes and rounded ears. Her purple sheer gown gently flowed about her form, a direct contrast to the hardness in her heart. There was absolutely nothing gentle, serene or giving in that Terran, T'Pring scornfully thought to herself. She was the one who had fueled her son's ambitions in an outward defiance of the Vulcan father's wishes.
He must travel to the stars! He must serve the Empire! He will be the one who leads this family to a greater glory! She depended on her son to make her name famous. And he did. In all that he accomplished, her name was at the forefront of his deeds and momentos. His father would receive a secondary acknowledgment. But never a mention of his bondmate..ever..
T'Pring awaited him in the center of the sands. But he was no where to be found. Hope sprang to her heart at the chance that he would let her go. Perhaps this time she would be free from his rage. Her gaze darted to the human mother. Her face was an implacable mask, rivaling any Vulcan's controls. From beyond the throng, a commotion was heard and the mother smugly grinned. No, a crestfallen T'Pring was not to be free, neither this time nor any other time. It would go on forever.
Her tardy bondmate rushed through the crowd and stood before her. He was breathless and his dark looks stung at T'Pring's disdain. With his uniform tattered and filthy, he looked like one who had just crawled through the rocks to reach her. Only God knew what strings he had pulled, what ships he had destroyed, whose lives he had taken to come to her side this day. With red blood staining his hands, droplets clinging to his dark beard, her bond mate strode to the dais where the ancient gong awaited him. Confidently he rushed to strike the metal, declaring his claim upon her. And like every other time, T'Pring rushed ahead of him to the dais.
"Kallifee!" She attempted in her strongest voice.
The first few times she had been confident. Now she was only resigned. He glared at her, sneering his contempt as his mallet dropped to the ground.
"Who is it this time T'Pring? I hope you have chosen another Andorian. They are most pleasant to watch in the death throes."
And her bondmate's hand raised in a shaky ta'al as he approached his family's matriarch, T'Lan. T'Pau long ago had ceased to be.
T'Pring stood by his side, her chin held high in defiance of her bondmate's intentions.
"Thee has chosen a champion, T'Pring?" The austere T'Lan formally requested.
And as just as she had done every seven years, T'Pring marched down the line reciting her ancient chant. This was her right. If her bondmate would never release her from this purgatory, then she would never cease to thwart his attempts to claim her properly. He might take that which is rightfully his, but she would never give it willingly. And this was the bitter pill that they both swallowed every seven years. It nipped at them like a flea on a desert night.
After decades, it had become a game to them both. A test of resolve, a battle of wills. A game that will never end until one or the other ceased to exist. Even then, T'Pring was certain, they would join each other in the void. He might take her to his death, but she would be kicking and screaming the entire way.
T'Pring halted at her chosen. They had known each other for a short time but she yearned for him. He was young and highly logical. His ruthless pursuit of her and of reason was a most attractive feature to T'Pring. He conducted himself in a manner which T'Pring found most favorable. His youth was a pleasant attribute and his mind exuberant and idealistic. He had pledged his life to defending her from her husband's blood fever. She also knew that he desired to claim her as his own. He might have a chance, T'Pring mused, as she pointed out her champion, S'reth. She watched him stride into the circle, limber as a le-matya. He resembled Stonn more than any other, both in looks and gait.
Stonn, her first passion, T'Pring mournfully reminisced. The one who had first pledged his life to her. After her plans for her mate's Captain had gone awry, she and Stonn had remained together, plotting her mate's downfall for the next time. That had not gone according to their plans either. Stonn had abandoned her, after the difficulty with her second kallifee.
His body and mind had been deeply harmed in the mating time. And like a few others he had never quite recovered from T'Pring's bondmate's brutality. But she believed that Stonn had been more repulsed by her behavior. She was unable to contain this sensual hedonism. The instinct ran amok, drowning her usual decorum and conscience. It was depravity that would reduce her to the base level of a wailing, starving animal, pillaging both men for sheer pleasure.
Stonn's eyes had widened in confused horror as he discovered she was the culprit. He protested loudly while being ravished not by her mate, but by his chosen. Their insane blood burning had awakened her terrifying mind powers. She was able to grind Stonn into submission. Her presence, both mind and body had invaded every hole and pore of his being. She was the mirror held up to the men's own carnality, but reflected tenfold. It was a sexual frenzy that went by in a blur for the triad. Fingers, tongues, bound hands, paralyzed minds; it was a brutal ravishment. Totally subjected Stonn was by her passions and he was swept away in the deep lava like madness. It was not pleasantly enjoyed but rather sensually endured.
In the aftermath, Stonn admitted to her that she and her mate were most suited to each other, for these times. The possibility of that was beyond her acceptance. T'Pring's pride was wounded and she called him a coward. That was the last thing she said to him. But her heart broke that day. There had been others whom she had cherished, but none like this youth of today. Long and lean, dark and brooding, he was most promising. Perhaps this would be the one to best her mate, take his life and finally free her from this endless terror of anticipation.
"Thee are prepared to become the property of the victor, T'Pring?"
How many times had the matriarch asked her that before? How many times had she answered, "Yes."
"Let the combat begin!"
The two men circled the arena, each wielding their lirpas. Her champion swiped first and drew blood. The slice across her mate's meaty thigh only fueled his rage. The cracking of metal upon metal stung T'Pring's ears. It was the challenger's relentless assault that finally splintered the handle of his opponent's ancient weapons.
The ah'whoons were tossed in, allowing the combat to continue. And continue it did. Like deranged beasts battling for food, they grappled with the other, flinging themselves to the ground. This was her mate's strong point, where he always triumphed.
S'reth valiantly struggled and managed to inflict a deep gash on his attacker's cheek. Green blood welled from the wound, but it did nothing to impede the battle. Her champion was close to besting him until her mate cheated. Kneeing his opponent it the groin, as he always did. The man had no honor! Ruthless and cunning, yes, but not honorable. But then this was to the death.
In a blinding speed, her jealous mate pounced, pressing her champion's face into the sands. Muffled grunts filled the silent gathering, as pain wracked S'reth's body in his fruitless struggle to get this man off his back. But her mate quickly wound the deadly lengths of fabric around the man's wrists, binding his hands at his back. S'reth's gasped as his throat was suddenly garroted. Then her mate used her champion's own weapon against him and lashed his ankles together. Once T'Pring's mate was certain of S'reth's capture, he leapt off him and circled him once. The fettered captive lay face down upon the sands stunned but safely secured.
This scene was a familiar one and T'Pring closed her eyes in defeat. She knew what was to come next. It was the first of many trials her mate would inflict upon her chosen, if he survived this test. With a solid kick of his foot, T'Pring's mate managed to get his captive to roll over.
His mother's voice rose above the reverie, breaking the silent awe that held everyone spell bound.
"Take him, Spock!
This was her mate's mark and he was off. Spock pounced upon the helpless youth and straddled his chest. The sudden weight was crushing and S'reth labored to breath. The view of his own assault was blocked by the bulk sitting upon his body. But T'Pring witnessed for both of them. In defeated despair, she watched Spock untie her champion's pants, then wrench them down his thighs. S'reth's long stiff erection sprang free. It bobbed, throbbing green in arousal.
It was an erection that he had awakened with yesterday. After frequent melds with T'Pring, they had formed a fledgling bond. It seemed that her time had inspired his own to fire off. And he had greeted her for the past two mornings with a erection that would not subside.
But now he belonged to Spock. Long slender fingers clutched these blond furred thighs and pried S'reth's legs apart. With a long drawn out breath Spock blew on the hot shaft, a shaft hotter than the desert sands beneath him. S'reth stiffened in response and squirmed to escape this clutching. But it was all in vain.
Now properly subdued, her mate partook of her chosen's vulnerable flesh. Spock's tongue gingerly lapped up the leaking fluid then encircled the head. S'reth stiffened his body ramrod still as he was subjected to this agony. It was a moment of hesitation, as Spock watched the thighs quiver in anticipation. He then opened his mouth wide and devoured the youth. S'reth's sudden mournful cry filled the desert air as his manhood was encased in a hell hotter that his own blood fever. T'Pring winced as she saw the delicate head of her champion repeatedly poke through Spock's cheek. Spock engulfed the jade rapier over and over until the youth trembled. Despite his horror and fear, S'reth responded and squelched his own whimpers as he chewed upon his lower lip.
But in spite of his best efforts, the youth capitulated and his hips began to rise and fall. His rear lifted from the desert floor, gluttial muscles clenching in the effort, grains still clinging to his youthful skin, as he thrust deeper into Spock's hot hungry mouth. T'Pring watched in agony as Spock's dark beard mingled within S'reth's pubic with each thrust.
This was always how he did it. How he won her champions over or how he killed them. Her beloved chosen began to buck wildly as his passion rose. The manipulation of his manly flesh was more that he could bear and he rose to the heights. Spock did not even need to pull S'reth into his mouth. The man met him willingly, graciously. Just as S'reth reached a break neck speed, Spock ceased his suckling. Her beloved let out a great moan of disappointment. His flesh slipped from Spock's flushed orifice.
Then came the real test. Spock left the shuddering man upon the sands. Unable to move to escape, only his eyes widened as Spock stood upon before him. T'Pring brought a shaky hand to her mouth and she watched Spock undo his own pant. As he released his massive hard on, it sprung from his pants.
Spock knelt at S'reth's head then lowered his body to the bound prone man beneath him. Spock's hands grasped each of S'reth's thighs. He gained more leverage as his knees embedded into the sands on either side of her champion's head. Spock's groin hovered over her trapped lover' face, teasing his lips with the tip. With his inner thighs, Spock trapped the man's face in his leggy embrace. With the strength of urgency, he shoved his shaft into the reluctant mouth. In between his teeth, Spock grasped the foreskin of the helpless youth. There upon the sands for all to witness, Spock fucked her champion's face in an unceasing rhythm. His impatient rod pistoning deeper and faster into S'reth's mouth as his furred balls slapped against his nose. Every thrust would tighten the knot around his captive's throat cutting off his air. Not yet tight enough to kill him but to merely heighten the experience.
Though S'reth was being forcible taken, his erection remained bright green and taut, fluids seeping from the thin slit. The thin foreskin was still gingerly held between the teeth of this master of the stars. Very slowly and surely he was once again mastering T'Pring's chosen. Faster and harder Spock plundered the youth's mouth forcing him to gag and swallow his mighty length and girth. For a single moment, they became one creature, undulating upon the sands.
Then Spock ceased. And withdrew his shaft from her beautiful champion's mouth. Dangling just out of reach, Spock's cock head lingered near S'Reth's face, grazing his nose taunting him with his own drizzle. Slowly and lazily, T'Pring's mate suckled his captive's erection, licking off the sweet precum from this ecstatically weeping organ. T'Pring knew this was the final test. And she watched as the entire gathering did with baited breath. Then it happened.
And her conflicting heart simultaneously sank
and rejoiced. The young, beautiful man's lips hungrily sought Spock's cock
and kissed the tip clean. That was all the enticement Spock required and
he let his hips drop down to feed the hungry youth his passions. And that
was how the two came. T'Pring knew that that her champion's life had been
spared and that these next few night would be filled with the screams of
torridly maddening delight.
With Spock's weight pinning the youth to the sands, he plunged into this willing mouth. Over and over his rod bore down into this cavern, driving into the eager mouth making it his. Not caring if he was hurting only concerned that his passion be satisfied. In turn, Spock accepted S'reth's cravings. Gasps and moans greeted the silent but observing throng as both men greedily gobbled down the rod of the other. Spock did not allow the youth a moment to savor this delight and T'Pring's chosen was sucked dry.
In violent thrashings of sexual excitement, Spock's hostage let loose, his cries muffled by the meaty appendage blocking his airway. Spock clutched the firm furred thighs as the young man spasmed and Spock gulped down the essence. Just at the pinnacle of his own climax, Spock ceased his own thrusting and let loose. Thick viscous fluid easily pumped into the young man's mouth. So much there was that it seeped from S'reth's lips and dribbled down his cheek. Spock had already swallowed the man fluids and was now savoring his taste as he savored the afterglow of his own orgasm.
T'Pring involuntarily moaned, as she watched both men shudder vigorously. No one had noticed the spectacular orange and pink sunrise; their attentions had been riveted to this bestial display upon these sands. A pitiful reenactment of ancient rites, a mockery of the original intentions, a desecration of not only his ancestors but also her own too. Terrans had brought this to them, T'Pring ruefully thought.
A trickle of sweat tickled at T'Pring's upper lip. It was with a shaky hand that she wiped the beads away. The winds began to blow hotter as the sun, Nevesa, heated the morning air. But T'Pring felt her own mating fires flamed at this display. A faint echo tugged at her now. As the hours would wear on she knew the insistence would grow stronger. Just as T'Khut urged the seas to ebb and wane in their tides, so would both men call to her now. It was the Vulcan way.
The nervous bride swallowed hard, easing the parched ache in her throat. Spock disentangled his limbs from around the youth on the sands and looked around to the spectators. His gaze caught and held on to T'Pring's. For the moment, his desires were quenched but she knew it was only the beginning of a long and arduous week. S'reth called her name. The tortured sound caused T'Pring to shiver and she licked her lips. Spock may have won here in the arena, but there was always tonight for her to even the score.
