Chapter Text
Affection tinged with lust courses along the bond, pulsing warm and heady across Jim’s consciousness, and he sighs. Relaxing into a happy lump against the pillow stuffed under his chest, Jim hugs the fluffy mound in close and spreads his legs further apart for ease of access.
He’s so sure that Spock is going to fuck him that the first tentative touch of cool silicone nudging against his hole is a surprise.
Gasping at the unexpected sensation, Jim lets out a low groan as the flared cockhead of what can only be the large purple dildo presses insistently inside of him. It’s a stretch, even after the Gut Buster, because that thing had mostly worked its magic on his insides. His hole is only minimally stretched, and it makes the girth of the large purple toy feel that much more pronounced as it nudges inside.
There’s an obscene pop a moment later, as Spock cruelly drags the tip back out, much to Jim’s dismay.
See? Bastard.
“Spoooooock.” Jim whines, empty hole twitching and no doubt shiny with whatever Risan lube Spock had plied him with.
Shushed assurances echo down the bond, even as Spock silently nudges the head of the dildo back inside of him. The tapered shape to the head makes the entry gradual, but the satisfying sensation of finally working the whole tip in when he clenches tight around the flare of the head of it is short lived; Spock barely lets the tip rest inside for a moment before he’s drawing it free again with another pop.
:What are you doing?: Jim demands, too busy groaning out his frustration into the pillow to be able to make the word things happen.
:We are here to make a demonstration.: Spock reminds him smugly. :I am just attempting to abide by the mission parameters and provide an enjoyable viewing experience.:
:They can enjoy the view of the toy when it’s inside me!: Jim mentally howls, toes curling in anticipation as Spock nudges the tip of the purple toy against his twitching rim; it’s just enough pressure to be a tease, but nowhere near enough to breach him.
Rocking his hips back, Jim is surprised when Spock holds the base of the toy steady and lets him.
“It’s like that, hm?” Jim asks, turning his head to pant out the words.
Spock squeezes the globe of Jim’s ass that he’s still using to hold him steady in confirmation, and Jim delights in his husband's secret depravity.
:It is no secret that I like to see you pleasured.: Spock argues. :And watching you ‘work for it’ is always a delight.:
Pressing his hips back onto the purple cock still punting at his taint, Jim wiggles his ass just enough to get the tip to catch on his rim before he starts a slow rocking motion.
When the tip presses inside this time, Jim heaves a happy sigh of relief.
“Slowly.” Spock orders, no doubt reading Jim’s intention to sink back onto the cock as quickly as his body will allow.
It’s a lot more fun to play ‘just the tip’ when he’s the one in control, but Jim knows that if he plays his cards right, Spock will be just as pent up and ready to rail him into next Tuesday by the time their little show is over.
Rocking backwards onto the toy and teasing it just a little deeper, Jim enjoys the stretch of the broad purple cockhead; it might almost be as large as Spock gets when he’s got his lok bound up as big as it gets, and the memory of past adventures has him clenching tight around the tip.
With a shudder, Jim shakes the toy loose from his hole, deliberately letting it slide free.
“It’s too big.” he whines, letting artificial dismay slip into his voice. “It won’t fit.”
Spock requires no prodding along the bond this time to play along.
“You can take it.” Spock says firmly. “You will take it.”
And he presses the tip firmly against Jim’s rim again, rubbing the firm silicone up and down before plunging it inside once more with a wet shlup sound.
Jim lets out a pathetic sounding whine, only mildly hamming it up, as he presses back and spears the toy deeper into himself; only to retreat once again, curling his hips forward and attempting to ‘escape’ the insistent press of the toy.
“I can’t, Spock- ah!” Jim cries out as the hand that had held his cheek wide for the Vulcan’s perusal of his hole slips up his back, pressing firmly between his shoulder blades and forcing his back into a convex arc that allows the toy to slip deeper.
Jim’s eyes nearly cross at the feeling of being stuffed so full, and the damn thing’s only a few inches in at this point.
“Fuh-” he whimpers, widening the stance of his knees and trying not to drool into the pillow over how good it feels to have Spock take charge like this.
“More.” his wonderful First says, and Jim bites his lip as he presses back harder.
Another few centimeters of the thick purple monster slip inside of him, and Jim’s cock, unsurprisingly hard once more, gives an interested twitch. The gush of excess lube being forced from his hole as the toy displaces it is made all the more lewd by the feeling of it dripping down over his balls and trickling in rivulets down his sensitive cock.
He’s literally dripping with want.
“Good boy.” Spock praises, and if Jim lives to be a thousand years old, he’ll never get tired of hearing it from his precious Vulcan’s lips.
Conversely though, Spock pulls the toy back and away; Jim tries to follow it back, but Spock’s still holding him pinioned by his shoulders.
With a sob of dismay as the toy is pulled free of his body with a wet suck, Jim’s rim twitches in agitation of being robbed of its hard won prize.
“Spock!”
“What do you say?” comes the Vulcan’s reply, and oh Jim wants to strangle him. Or maybe bounce on his lok until he’s cum drunk and stupidly pliable, whatever.
“Please.” Jim replies when he’s finished sucking in a shaky breath. “Please, can I have more?”
“More what?” Spock asks slyly, always bitchy about the specifics of things.
“Want more cock.” Jim mutters obligingly, annoyed but desperate to feel that achy full sensation again.
“Louder.” Spock orders, and Jim’s own cock blurts out a dribble of pre to add to the puddle of lubricant beneath him in excitement.
“More please,” Jim says louder, arching his hips as high as he can, knowing that with his legs spread wide as they are, his hole is likely on display for anyone watching their little demonstration. “More cock, please.”
The tip nudges against Jim’s hole again, smooth purple cockhead probably a dark and glittery contrast to the no doubt swollen and pink state of his ass at this point.
“How much more?” Spock asks. Again, with the damned specifics.
“All of it, please, Spock-” Jim’s words are choked off in a stuttering moan as Spock finally obliges him. But he’s shoving the toy in deep, deeper than it was before, and every time Jim thinks there can’t possibly be more to stuff into him, it keeps going.
“Stop!” he cries, even though if Spock stopped right now he’d probably stab him. “Too much, it’s too deep, I can’t-”
“Shhh.” Spock shushes, and then it’s there, the artificial balls of the toy pressing flush to Jim’s own as the monstrous purple toy finally bottoms out in his ass.
“Guh.” Jim chokes out. The stretch is insane, and it feels like the goddamn cockhead is in his throat, it’s so deep inside of him.
Realistically, it’s probably only a couple of inches deeper than Spock can reach when he’s fully bound up, but the cold and inhumane touch of silicone feels so much dirtier than when it’s part of his beloved husband’s body.
With an almost imperceptible slowness, Spock withdraws the toy just a few inches, before plunging it back inside. Already feeling sensitive and battered from the Gut Busters promised busting, every slick movement inside of his body has Jim twitching with sensation.
“You take it very well, Jim.” Spock soothes, the hand on Jim’s shoulders easing up to pet idly along his spine.
“Hhhmf.” Jim agrees, whining into the pillows and starting up a slow rocking motion with his hips. Now that he’s had a moment to adapt to the feeling of being stuffed full, he wants it to move, needs that thick purple girth to scrape along his guts and make him feel owned.
“Greedy.” Spock admonishes, but since he’s only kind of a bastard, he matches Jim’s rhythm, thrusting the toy in and out of him with a steady movement.
Shluck, shluck, shluck.
The wet sounds of the toy fucking into him get faster as Spock increases the pace. He’s holding Jim’s ass again, steadying him against the forceful thrusts of the toy so he doesn’t hurt himself.
“Oh god.” Jim whimpers, the girth of the toy stretching him wide and sluicing through him, working his hole into a loose and battered state. There’s a twinge of curiosity from Spock, before a quiet click, almost lost in the wet slap of the dildo and Jim’s own whorish cries, makes its way to Jim’s ears.
The light buzzing sensation that begins to emanate from the core of the toy sends Jim’s cock twitching again, untouched and red, his balls throbbing with the need to release.
“Fuck, Spock.” he breathes. “It’s so fucking big.”
“Your body accepts it quite well.” Spock replies, “Is it from the frequent penetration you find yourself on the receiving end of?”
And listen. Nobody’s arguing that Jim isn’t a bit on the promiscuous side, but there’s just something extra special about being called a cock slut by your husband, okay?
He’s got a witty response to Spock’s claim lying around here somewhere, but it’s just as likely that it’s been fucked right out of his skull by the massive purple cock that’s still pummeling away at his insides, vibrations sending a tingly, almost numbing sensation throughout Jim’s core.
“Can you come from this?” Spock asks, and Jim knows it's only for the Promptians benefit; Spock is well aware that Jim can climax from penetration alone, and is almost always a smug bastard about it too.
“Or do you require manual stimulation as well?” Spock continues, and the first touch of his large hand on Jim’s cock has him humping forward, desperate for more contact. The change in angle shifts the purple cock just right for Spock to jab the end of it directly into Jim’s prostate, and Jim can’t even piece together that he may very well have done so on purpose, because he’s too busy shouting as pleasure ripples through his body.
The insistent vibrations of the monstrous purple toy have him rocketing towards his second orgasm for the night, but it’s what the toy does next that really seals the deal.
So lost in the pulsing sensations of having the most sensitive nerve endings on his body buzzed like a game show button, Jim nearly misses Spock’s flash of confusion in the bond.
Because the toy? Won’t come free of Jim’s body.
As Spock gives an insistent tug to try and dislodge it, to maintain the long and glorious strokes he’s been working in and out of Jim’s now pliant hole, the toy… sticks.
The swelling that follows Spock’s last tug has Jim shrieking, the lower end of the toy swelling suddenly, ballooning large in Jim’s ass and forcefully shoving him off the precipice into an absolutely mind-numbing orgasm.
Jim clenches down hard against the swell, the literally knot in his ass, and rides out the spasms of pleasure that the sudden stretch has fucked right out of him.
Spock’s momentary panic is lost in a burst of understanding, as he experiences Jim’s world-shaking orgasm second hand, and Jim is only distantly aware of the feeling of hot seed streaking across the back of his thighs as Spock’s own climax takes him.
The happy, stuffed full feeling in his ass is only barely starting to deplete as Jim comes down from cloud nine. He’s shaking, he realizes, thighs quivering with the strain of holding himself upright, breaths coming fast and hard into the thoroughly drooled on pillow beneath his head.
“Holy shit.” he gasps.
“I was... unaware, of that particular function.” Spock says apologetically.
Jim can’t even tell where the Vulcan is right now, he’s so cum drunk on the happy-juice hormones coursing through his body at the moment. So he shoves assurances as Spock through the bond instead, and receives an amused and satiated burst of happiness in return.
Jim’s being lowered to his side, thankfully away from the wet spot that he’s made a horrible mess of, and then there’s a lanky body pressing up against him from ankles to shoulder blades. Spock, smart and beautiful Spock, has left the toy inside of him. His hips press up against it briefly, nudging the flared base of the purple monster and sending a pulse of pleasurable aftershock coursing through Jim’s sensitized body.
Humming his approval, Jim draws the Vulcan’s readily available arm tight around him and burrows into the thankfully clean pillow beneath his head.
“Gimme ten, and we can go again.” he yawns, and Spock’s amused acquiescence tickles along the bond, even as Jim lets the endorphin crash lull him into a quick cat nap.