Spock was his. He had the paperwork and everything, filed and official. Jim had wanted him since first glance, and when Spock had gone through Pon Farr, he didn’t hesitate to make it official. They were bound together, and in the Empire, this meant more that Spock was his, and less that he was Spock’s.
So when Spock spent too long talking to Bones instead of manning his station-- it didn’t matter that they were in a lull and he had nothing pressing-- Jim wasn’t happy. Spock was his, and it didn’t matter that Bones was his best friend, no one paid more attention to Spock than necessary. Everyone knew this, especially Spock.
It seemed like he needed a reminder.
“Spock,” The Vulcan froze, and Jim suppressed a pleased smile. At least he knew his mistake. He knew what Jim would be punishing him for. Spock’s eyes fell from Bones’ face to the floor, and he straightened almost impossibly further.
Bones looked up too, glancing behind him at Jim and still smiling. He didn’t seem to realise yet, exactly how angry Jim was. He would learn. Even now, the smile was fading from his lips.
Jim stood, and walked over to Spock’s science station. The one Jim allowed him to use simply because Spock was the best for the job. It was a privilege that he had made clear could and would be taken away if need be. Every moment was precise, controlled.
“What,” he paused for effect, watching Spock’s minute reactions. “Exactly are you two doing?” His attention shifted to Bones, who still didn’t look chastised enough for Jim’s liking.
“Just talking, Jim. Got nothin’ better to do.” Jim could almost see the flinch the Vulcan suppressed. That pleased Jim, at least Spock seemed contrite. Bones’ smile faltered, only now taking into account the tension in Jim’s body.
“Captain.” Jim corrected. He and Bones were friends, yes, and he had permission to use his given name, but Jim was pissed, and he wanted Bones to know this. Bones started, his smile fading almost completely now, as if he just realised Jim was angry.
“Captain.” Bones corrected, straightening ever so slightly. Jim could just feel the tension on the bridge. Everyone there knew how close Bones was to him, and if he could get mad at Bones, no one was safe.
“Mr. Spock, Mccoy,” Spock stiffened again, would have flinched if he were anyone else, eyes boring into the floor. Bones’ smile was all gone now. “After me.” He turned on his heel and made for the turbo lift. Jim had nothing against public punishment, actually rather enjoyed inflicting it on lesser ensigns and yeomen, whether they enjoyed it or not, but now he was not in the mood. He already felt an alarming wave of possession rise up in him. Spock was his. He wasn’t going to share the punishment with the rest of the bridge crew. No, this was already public enough.
Jim didn’t look back the entire way to his quarters. He knew they were following him, no one was that stupid. It wasn’t until he reached the small desk in his quarters, which he leaned against, that he faced them. His arms crossed his front, and his eyebrow raised in such a way that would, in normal circumstance, make Spock proud.
Spock and Bones both stood in front of him, Bones a bit more chastened than he was on the bridge. Spock stood with perfect posture, but his eyes were cast down. He looked ready to jump out of his skin to grovel at Jim’s feet, so long as he would be absolved. Jim let him stew, let him them both stand there in silence. Power wasn’t always about force, and certainly not coming in and taking it brutally.
“Do you know why we are here, Doctor McCoy?” Jim almost smiled at the way Bones stiffened. He could almost see the frustration and the fight to not lash out at his commanding officer. Control must have won out.
“Mr. Spock and I were talking, when we should have been working.” The words were ground out and forced flat, as if he’d tried to iron the edges out of them.
“Close,” Jim allowed himself a smile. “You and Spock were talking, and as everyone on this ship, including Spock,” he sent a look at the Vulcan “knows he is mine and should be left alone.” Jim moved forward now, stepping right in front of Spock and touching him gently on the cheek. Spock held himself back from flinching, but only barely.
Bones didn’t say anything in response, just stayed silent and in his place. Jim smiled and delicately stroked Spock’s cheek. The Vulcan looked like he wanted to simultaneously push into the touch, as he loved Jim’s affection more than he’d even admit to himself, and flinch away. In the end, Spock leaned into the touch, eyes not quite slipping closed as Jim continued to brush his fingers over Spock’s meld points.
“Not going to defend yourself, Doctor?” Jim could see, just out of the corner of his eye, how Bones’ knuckles whitened into fists. He was trying so hard not to talk back to Jim. Normally, Jim would let him, and so it was a struggle to not speak his mind.
“I didn’t realise talking was against the rules.” Jim stilled his stroking, and Spock, who had relaxed quite a bit, went tense. He stroked lightly again, smoothing away the tense lines in Spock’s face.
“Spock is mine. Anyone paying too much attention to him is against the rules, that includes talking.” Spock wasn’t relaxing as easily this time, his eyes open and staring at the floor as if it would swallow him whole. He hadn’t said a word this entire time, tending to retreat and go silent so he wouldn’t say anything that would put him in a worse position. “Isn’t that right, Spock?”
“Yes, sir.” Always so obedient and quick to answer. Even more so when he knew Jim was quick to upset. Jim pressed his fingers lightly onto the meld points on Spock’s face in subtle reward.
“Doctor, in the bedroom, there is a brush. It’s sitting on the dresser, bring it to me.” He didn’t look away from Spock, just listened as Bones hesitated and processed the command. He obeyed silently, and Jim went back to work, stroking his fingers down his newly distressed Vulcan’s arms.
Bones wasn’t gone long, the office was really part of his living quarters. The dresser was only a few steps away. When he returned, Bones didn’t seem to know what to do, and just stood next to Spock in his earlier position, this time with a hairbrush in his hands.
Neither of them had hair long enough for such a brush, but then, the brush had never actually been used for it’s created purpose. Spock had plenty of experience with the unconventional use. He was stiff under Jim’s hands, unable to relax at this point, and leaning as subtly as he could away from the brush in Bones’ hands.
“I think you both need to be reminded what is mine.” Jim held his hand out for the brush, not even looking. Bones handed it over quickly, and watched and Jim pushed Spock toward the small desk. A desk too small for a starship Captain, but perfect for the Vulcan to lean over.
Spock didn’t need to be told, he’d done this enough times. More than he’d like to admit. He still hesitated when he reached the desk, taking a moment to look first at Bones and then Jim, as if asking for a reprieve. When none was given, Spock trained his eyes on the desk in front of him and slowly lowered his regulation pants to his ankles. He didn’t bother to step out of them, and leaned forward over the desk. At this point he couldn’t control the green flush creeping down his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears.
Jim smirked and noted the look of suprise on Bones’ face, how his fists had relaxed from the shock. “How many should I give him?”
“Wh-what?” Bones glanced at Jim before quickly turning his attention back to Spock’s ass. Spock pressed his head deeper into his hands, ears turning a deeper green. Spock stood with his legs shoulder width apart, showing off his semi-hard cock, and the fact that Vulcan’s didn’t have outer testicles.
“How many swats with the brush.” Jim clarified. “He can handle quite a bit actually. How many does he deserve for forgetting that he’s mine?” Spock squirmed ever so slightly on the desk, obviously eager to defend himself, tell Jim that he hadn’t forgotten, but Jim hadn’t given him permission to speak, and so he wouldn’t make a noise. Such a good boy he was.
“I...uh.” Bones’ voice was rough, hesitant to contribute to Spock’s punishment.
“Either you choose, or you switch places with him.” Jim’s voice was hard. He didn’t like that idea. Spock over the desk was one thing, Spock was his.
“Fifty?” He was quick to answer now. Jim smiled and stepped close to Spock, running his fingers across the uncovered skin.
“You’re being kind, Doctor.” Jim admonished, tapping Spock lightly on the right cheek just to watch him jump. “Fifty is for a minor infraction, usually. How about we double it? How does that sound?” He half cooed the second part at Spock, who sunk his head deeper in his arms.
Bones didn’t say a word, but was working up a fine blush. He obviously was taking into account that Spock was half Vulcan, and therefore could handle much more than a human could.
“Count them for him, Doctor, you’re a part of this too.” Jim waited for Bones to nod his confirmation before bringing the brush down on the delicate Vulcan’s skin. Spock jumped ever so slightly, but otherwise did not make a noise.
“One.” Bones said, hands tight at his sides.
“Two.” His hands went behind his back, clasped together
“Three.” Jim was alternating each cheek, making sure that he brought down the brush with equal force each time. It would hurt more later on, no matter the force. Spock was a Vulcan, and strong. Jim was human, and he’d grow tired too quickly if every swing was as hard as he could make it. At about fifty in, Spock’s cheeks were glowing green. His whole body flushed with shame and only trembling slightly. Bones had gotten significantly redder, though he only watched and counted out how many swats Spock had received.
At around 75 swats, Spock was tensing and flinching in between swats. Tears slowly tracked his cheeks. He hid his face well in his arms, but he couldn’t hide enough so that both Bones and Jim couldn’t see him crying. Bones was attempting to conceal an erection, and Spock’s hadn’t faded. Spock was leaking pre-cum against the desk, which only furthered his humiliation and his hard-on. Jim made no move to hide his own involvement, and simply continued to swat at Spock’s burning ass steadily.
When Bones finally called out 100, Spock slumped on the table. Normally he’d break down and cry into Jim’s arms, until Jim soothed away the hurt and told him he was forgiven. As it was, he was barely holding himself together, and only because Bones was watching.
Jim set the brush on the desk by Spock, noting how Spock flinched at the movement. “Learned your lesson?” He asked, directing the question to Bones, who was still staring wide-eyed at Spock’s flushed body.
“Yes, Captain.” He said after a moment, turning his attention back to Jim. “Spock is yours.”
“Good. Bones, you’re dismissed.” Jim waved his hand at Bones, as if shooing him. Bones turned away, relieved at having his nickname back, and rushed out of Jim’s quarters. Probably wanting to take care of himself as soon as possible.
The moment the doors slid shut, Spoke broke down. He sobbed into the desk, eyes squeezed shut. Jim leaned against the desk, next to Spock, and trailed his fingers lightly over the angry green skin. It would bruise, and Spock would feel it for several days. Spock pressed his face against Jim’s thigh, wetting it with tears and snot. Spock was a beautiful crier.
“And what did you learn?” Jim asked softly, his fingers now stroking delicately at Spock’s hair. The fine strands competing with Tholian silk for softness.
“Yours…” Spock choked out softly. “Yours, please…” Jim sat back properly on the desk and pulled Spock into his arms, letting Spock hide his face in Jim’s neck.
“Good boy.” Jim praised, and they stayed like that for several minutes. Spock would only lose control in Jim’s presence, and Jim was grateful he was the only one to see Spock’s beautiful tears.
Eventually the tears ran out, leaving Spock breathing even and calm against Jim’s neck. Jim still stroking soft hands down his Vulcan, soothing and possessive all at once. Only when Spock was completely relaxed and still against Jim, did he sit up, not quite pushing Spock away.
“I wanna make you mine again.” Spock shivered, but took his cue and stepped out of his pants to make his way unhindered to Jim’s bed. Jim watched his Vulcan go, admiring his work, before joining him on the bed.