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Captain Kirk woke up in nothing but his underwear. Whilst not unusual, it was instantly apparent that sexy times had not occurred when he left the bar, and he had, in fact, been stripped by captors. Again.
A spotlight hung from the ceiling directly above him; bright and burning against his bare skin. Beneath him was some sort of interrogation table, built from a cold, smooth, silver metal alloy, that cuffed his arms above his head, and his ankles a metre apart from one another. The room itself was small, empty, and minimalistic. The only furniture, other than the bench he was strapped to, was a tall, wide shelf to his side, used to store clean, pristine interrogation tools, organised in type and size.
It was his own damn fault for getting blackout drunk on an unfamiliar planet. Bones had warned him several times, and he never listened. Damn it. He really needed to listen more, didn’t he?
Before Kirk could drown in self pity, the door finally opened. Five humans entered; their ‘leader’ strode confidently toward him, with his ‘assistant’ hovering behind him, and their three ‘guards’ blocked the exit. Kirk didn’t have the chance to look outside, before the door was closed, locking shut with three hard clicks.
“Captain Kirk.” Their ‘leader’ towered over him with a smirk. “Allow me to introduce myself.” He grabbed his chin; nails digging into his flesh. “I am Governor Vsevolod Likhodeyev of the Borzaya Colony. Your beloved Federation has apprehended some of my men, so imagine my surprise when a highly decorated commander like yourself stumbled into my territory. Now that I have such a prize in my hands, I’m assured my men will be returned in exchange for your life.”
Kirk winced, struggling against his rough grasp. Sweat dripped from his forehead, the light intense on his face, and his mouth, already dehydrated from the alcohol, dried further.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have some… fun first.” The Governor continued, stroking his cheeks. It was too firm. Too rough. Too hard. Not like how Spock did it. Not how he did it at all. “What do you say, Captain?” He sneered. “Ready to have fun?”
Kirk grimaced. “I don’t believe we have the same definition of fun, Governor.” He snarled.
“Hmmm… perhaps not.” The Governor clicked his fingers. “Let us test that theory.”
His ‘assistant’ calmly walked over to the shelf, and provided him with a long, narrow carving knife. Kirk clenched his jaw as its blade caught the spotlight above them. Just… great. Wonderful. Kirk just loved getting sliced apart by degenerate assholes.
The Governor let go of his chin to toy with the knife. “Do you have a preference?” He sneered.
Kirk’s jaw tightened. “Go to fucking hell.” He growled between gritted teeth.
The Governor and his ‘assistant’ laughed.
“Ah, the Captain has a mouth on him. I should have known…” His smirk widened, before turning to his ‘assistant’. “Keep a hand around his throat.” He ordered. Calm. Cold. Ruthless.
Kirk struggled, squirming in the cuffs, as the ‘assistant’ wrapped her fingers around his neck, and arched it back.
“Apply more pressure when he squirms.” He smirked; then turned back to Kirk. “It’ll hurt less if you stay still.” He teased, menacingly.
His ‘assistant’ pressed two fingers against his thyroid. Kirk gulped.
The Governor traced his shoulders with the blade, leaving ugly lines of split skin on both sides of his collarbone; digging deeper to extract more blood.
“F-f-fuck y-you.” Kirk hissed.
The ‘assistant’ squeezed. Kirk spluttered and shuddered.
“Captain.” He laughed. “You’re too easy.”
“And you’re a bastard.” He spat back.
The Governor took great pleasure in stabbing the tip of the blade deeper inside of Kirk. “Oh, I know, but thank you for reminding me.” He purred.
“Oh, shuuut uup!” Kirk groaned, earning another deeper slice to his upper chest.
“Should I retrieve a gag?” The ‘assistant’ spoke up for the first time.
The Governor just laughed and shook his head. “Oh no, that’s not necessary, thank you, Taisiya.” He sneered. “I enjoy hearing his protests too much to muffle them.”
The knife trailed across his shoulders once again, before drawing a line down the centre of his chest, and circled spirals across his pecs.
“Fuck.” Kirk hissed, tears piercing the corners of his eyes, as his chest bled out in persistent streams. “F-f-fuck.” He repeated, wheezing harder. His breaths were quick, sharp, and shallow; struggling to keep a slow and steady rhythm with a knife so close to hitting his lungs and doing serious damage.
”Oh, Captain, what would they think of you?” The Governor laughed. “The legendary Starfleet Officer, restrained and helpless and ever so vulnerable, wheezing and whining in agony from a mere meat knife.” He dug it deeper, shredding apart his skin. “‘The great James Tiberius Kirk didn’t even try to escape, did you, Captain?”
“You’re—“ He choked, tears streaming down his face, “Y-You’re s-such a bitch!”
“And so is that… vile creature… you call a husband~”
Kirk forced his wrists from the cuffs and lunged.