Therefore, I shall attend the appointed meeting. He finished the reply to invitation to the next meeting of The Dragons Dungeon. Encrypting the message, he forwarded it to the groups President. Leaning back in his chair, he considered the utensils he would need for the meeting. Mentally, he made a note as he again pulled his hand forward to send his message unaware that at the same time, another message was being sent to the same meeting.

~-~

2 Weeks Later

A large room illuminated with scented candles was set up much like a medieval Terran dungeon. Various devices for torture could be found: racks, diverse chains against the wall, an iron maiden, stockades, and a few swings hung from the ceiling. Mythical dragons adorned every table in the room. Each dragon was carefully hand crafted and numbered; only one chair and a chained wooden frame leather mat surrounded every table. The mats themselves had a chain, which split into a collar and two shackles for the wrists.

An outsider could assume the castle in Stockholm, Scotland was simply a mere tourist attraction. However, insiders knew differently. Once every year the thousand year old castle was closed for a week and opened to private invitation only. This invitation was only given to a select group, The Dragons Dungeon. Although an inter-terrestrial group, its memberships included mostly Deltans, Humans, and Vulcans. During the summer solstice, the castle was alive with fifty men and women, who found pleasure in pain. The twenty-four staff members served the needs of those who had earned the right to be called "Master" or "Mistress". The Castles thirty bedchambers would each be filled. Twenty-five were set up with a king sized four-post bed and a wicker floor mat at the foot.

After the check in and a short visit to his room, a dramatically dressed man handed his luggage to a scantily clad maid. Long since accustomed to the way the maid was attired, the male found no sexual excitement from her perky breast, drawn even higher from the leather outfit she wore. She in turn, for his belongings told him his table number, to which he quietly made his way too. Although he had not had the chance to attend the Terran meetings in three years, he still could roam the castle unaided by direction. After finding his seat, he looked at the dragon he had been given; the number thirteen was painted in gold on a dainty emerald in the dragons paw.

His canter showed well he was an expert in the game. Definitely, a master of the art he took to heart. It had often been said by his acquaintances that he was void of passion. These meetings could prove them wrong, if only he did not hide his skill. Although, of all his associates, a woman knows his truth, and hides it well. She, however, found no interest in this sort of play, granted him his needs. After all, he had given her no commitment, only a secret passionate affair.

Surveying the room, he noticed several of his fellow dominants, one such man, renowned not for his passion, but his brutality. Something, on which he was not in agreement. How many times had he considered stepping in when "Ices" slaves had come away from the weeklong venture with broken bones? More than once had he paid a favorable sum to buy the slave from a dishonorable master. Looking at his number he saw, a ten. All he could do was hope "Ices" prize would be a strong, strapping man,  capable of handling the brutality of a harsh Vulcan. Being Vulcan, himself, it was confusing why "Ice" would not pass on humans and only enslave a fellow Vulcan. Vulcans overpowered humans in strength and mental power; a fact, out of which "Ice" seemed to get to much enjoyment.

The sound of a trumpet signaled the pending arrival of the slaves. The slaves, were brought in, in groups of six. Each seated on a deep lavender, velvet, pillowed (WHAT EVER), held delicately in the air by four house servants. This was the one time they would be treated like kings instead of  the slaves they agreed to be.

Finding nothing special about the first group, "Blaze", as he chose to be called, was grateful that he would not find himself master to any of this set. One by one he watched as they were chained to their mats at the foot of their masters. Carefully, he eyed the next batch; he was interested in the slave Ice would receive. Though, no damage could be done to "Ice" as his family had co-founded the Vulcan chapter, long before the two groups merged. Nothing, that is to remove him from active practice in the group itself. As the tenth slave was brought in "Blaze's" brow climbed into his hairline. An unfamiliar anger rose in his chest, as he realized who it was.

He watched and sat at the corner of his seat, ready to move if need be. Not expecting the need to be before, the slave was lowered from his platform. In a flash, "Ice" stood pulling a cat-o-nine tails and lashing it in the direction of his temporary property.  Quicker still, the man known as "Blaze" stood in front of the slave. Serving as a wall, lighting fast he caught the straps pulling them enough to grab it out of "Ices" hands. Turning it, he sneered in a commanding tone. You will not touch this human. You will not even take this human. The rest of his demands he spoke in Ancient Vulcan. Thee are a coward, who has failed to prove his test of manhood in the kahs-wan. Now thee needs to save face by domination. Today, he would not buy the slave; he would simply take it, as was the right of a MAN on Vulcan. "Ice", in the eyes of Vulcan, was nobody.

Hearing the words of the Vulcan towering before the human man, "Ice" backed down. However, he was not able to get way before the sting of the nine braids crossed his back. Instinctively causing him to draw a deep breath, only this Vulcan would be brave enough to stand up to him. Whispering into the ear of his challenger, he spoke his true name. Spock, yes, you will win your challenge, but as beforeyou will be the loser I assure thee. He referred to the thin frame of the blue-eyed human male. He had come to see thin humans were not so pleasing sexually, although they did prove to be amusing toys.

Spock turned to face his new, wide-eyed slave. Brown hair streamed across his face where he had set himself ready to take a lashing. Spock, he said aloud, which only earned him a stern look.

Spock paid him no mind, simply told the servants to remove him to the stockade for his error. Once he dealt with the slave that was meant to be his, he would go back and teach this slave a lesson. One he was assured not to forget. Returning to his seat, he watched as his group was brought in. His slave, a pretty Deltan with intriguing, violet eyes, was placed at his feet. She swiftly, moved to kiss her masters feet. Grabbing her hair, Spock locked her chains around her neck & wrist. The idea of both a man and female slave intrigued him. He had dabbled in both, but never at the same time. 

In his normal, unattached manner, he glanced at his slave in the stockade. He knew the punishment was harsher than need be, yet he was not accustomed to his name being spoken aloud when in character. His acquiring of this slave was bound to raise a question to all but the President of the group. She was well aware of the relationship the two males shared. How this blue-eyed slave was a doctor on the same starship "Blaze" served, Spock wondered, as he watched the doctor, proudly endure his punishment, what was his in-character name was. With a snap of his fingers as servant was at his side in an instant. See that my slave is well bathed and dressed in the clothing that suits his status. His eyes were still fixed on McCoy.

He would have to discuss with the President, his options. Normally, modifications would have to be made in advance as, it was not uncommon to bring your own slave, and a few members did so. Normally, though they awaited their master in the room and where not allowed in the gathering room on the first night. That was for new slaves to meet their master. How could Spock work around this? His suite had been set for him and a single slave.

Seeing Ices angry glare, Spock saw his line of action. Since he stole, a slave, he would offer his in payment. Since Deltans where merely to be used for pleasure she would not be harmed. Rising he removed the tethers from his slave, moved her behind him towards where Ice stood sulking. Without a word he simply dropped the chains at Ices feet. It was now up to Ice, to choose if he would take a slave that was, by the rules of the group, found unworthy. Before he turned he looked at the female, It is not you I dishonor, I honor a Vulcan code. Though he should have no claim, I challenge him to become a man this week. You, I feel could do that for him.

Spock returned to his table, retrieved his passkey for his room, and left the room to await his prize. Alone, in the hall, he smiled. His order to be well bathed would definitely make up for all the times McCoy ordered rectal cleanings be part of his exam. Spock had never understood the practice; cancers had been eradicated since the late 21st century. Now he wondered if it wasnt some obscure sexual gratification. As quickly as the thought came to his head, it left. McCoy was highly professional in his practice as a physician.

 Concerning briefly, what would make his week of letting lose more enjoyable Spock, decided to drop in at the gift shop before hand. He already had countless costumes from various worlds. He however, had no prince and the pauper garments.  Luckily, as first officer of the Enterprise, he was privy to the sizes of all staff; every male and females size was cataloged in his brain.

Once he reached the inside of the shop it was set much like the rest of the castle. The Medieval design captured every aspect of the room. Knights, torch-style lamps, various crests, and swords lined the walls. The only thing out of place was the computer set inside an alcove. Moving to the machine, Spocks fingers quickly danced over the keys. He scanned pages before he found the items he desired.

With a brief input of his membership information he placed his chosen items on his credits. Confident in his new possessions he waited for them to be crafted and bundled for him. Tonight, unlike most other times he actively joined The Dragons Dungeon. He knew there would be very little play and more explaining. He was interested in hearing how McCoy came to be a member, and not doubt his slave had the same thoughts of his new master.

Before logging out, like any normal master, Spock transferred all of McCoys debts to his own account. It was expected of the master to pay everything, not matter what the cost.

~-~

Water drizzled out McCoy nether region. The sensation was erotic enough to cause his cock to rage in protest against the confines of the cage surrounding it.  He had not expected to become the property of a man, much less Spock, of all people. Spock now gave an entirely new meaning to the thought of the devil. Only the devil would want a man for his slave, to satisfy some weird erotic dream. Yet, at the same time McCoy felt the heat of desire rush him. Again causing the cage to fell confining and tight. Most cages McCoy had worn in the past only allowed room for the softened state. This cage however, allowed enough room to show a slight state of arousal.

The entire apparatus was most inventive. The four-inch cage was thick and boxed shaped. It was meant to house the cock and balls. The strap, which held it securely in place, was anchored but a three-inch plug, fitting tightly into the rectal cavity. Two thin chains pulled the cage up so both cock and balls where displaying with glory, they were in-turn tightly tethered to the nipples. 

McCoy awaited Spock in the room, sitting in an almost painful fashion on the wicker mat. His chain now binding his wrist, ankles and neck, allowed him to move freely in any direction up to six feet. A pail was placed close enough to him in the event he found the need to urinate. At first he questioned the ability to let lose any golden stream so tightly wrapped. Soon, after the urge could be held no longer, he discovered almost in a painful fashion he could relieve his need through the cage.

As he sat waiting, he looked around the room seeing the wondrous design. Like the rest of the castle the room was classic medieval design. Large hand woven tapestries ornamented stonewalls, a set of swords rest on either side a coat of arms, and the bed was adorned with crisp red velvet curtains and black satin sheets. The room was magical allowing him to drift back in time, to a live where it was customary for a trusted servant to sleep at the foot of his masters bed.

The vision seemed more alive, when Spock walked in the room dressed in accouterments that looked natural for him. The vision of an English prince, pants cut off to the knee, a bushy white shirt with velvet pleats in the sleeves.  Over it was a flowing, red, velvet cap, trimmed in what appeared to be white rabbit pelt. His brows where carefully hidden by a golden crown set with rubies. Black boots set the outfit off nicely, just covering the ankles. 

A smile came to his face. His eyes must have showed the shock he felt at seeing Spock in this get-up. Starting to open his mouth, she quickly recalled the stockade he had been placed. When he signed up he agreed that a slave does not speak unless given permission, which he had not been.

Doctor, you have questions, I will grant you three. It was stated as more of a command than a question. He would allow three questions and only three. Then they would sleep; tonight he had no intention of touching his slave.

McCoy looked at Spock, The question of his costume seemed almost ridiculous, but he would ask it any way. Why the princely attire?

An unseen brow swept up under his crown. I find pleasure, in dressing the part. This also allows for me to escape how I am preserved to be...He looked into his eyes a pointy-eared elf with hormone problems.  In the fifteen years I have been a member of this group I have acquired seventy-five outfits.   Most of the outfits were anything but Vulcan design. The group gave Spock the chance for emotional release, like nothing else had. You have another question?

McCoy shifted on his mat, Spocks voice never wavered as he spoke. Yet, suddenly he was concerned Spock could use his power over him. A man had never physically taken him, yet; hence he was never deflowered (other than small vibrators). Thus far he was a slave to only three masters, Mistress Jessica, Mistress Raven, and Lord Bishop. The females had used him for their sexual pleasure, where as Lord Bishop was a look and no touch style master.

Carefully he considered his next question. What made you join the group? Blue eyes danced, as he thought of the countless answers. Again, his cage felt cumbersome, as desires suddenly awakened within him.

Noticing the bulk that danced inside the cage, Spock moved to the latch. Stand, he commanded; to which McCoy quickly complied. With a single movement he opened it. Then moved up to the nipples unclasping them. He wanted to the glory that was awakening for him. As he moved his fingers over the doctors body, he felt the stir of his own desires, which he quickly shelved. With out releasing the chains that once presses the nipples into tight erections, he watch the cage lower off McCoys cock. With his free hand he slowly began to stroke it. You may not climax, until I finish my story. His voice lowered and became stern, Not until my story is finished.

McCoy only nodded as his head flew back. Spocks hand was large enough to close over two thirds of it. Heat generated from the palm, put him on fire. He had to concentrate oh the story and not the fire burning within him.

What humans call bondage, Vulcans have practiced since long before the days of Sarek. He paused a moment, Like pon farr, the practice of BDSM is a personal thing. It is more widely spoken of on Vulcan, yet not openly spoke of.  My father, once held an active membership, and my great-grandmother brought Vulcan into The Dragons Dungeon. Thus my family has belonged since the group went inter-species.

He paused briefly to move down to McCoy, his lips tightened over McCoys head. A cat lick tongue rubbed the gland, as he moved down the shaft. Moving down until it disappeared into his mouth entirely. For a few moments, he worked McCoy over. Then left him when the moans showed him his slave was on the brink of breaking his rule.

Slowly he began to slap the enflamed head with his hand, until it softened somewhat. Some how he would teach McCoy cumming was not to be done until he commanded. Once it was soft again he glared at McCoy, Do I need to lash you? Or will you say 'thank you' for stopping you from bring more severely punished.

McCoys eyes fell to the ground. He knew he should say thank you. He was just having problems as no one had ever sucked him with such vigor, so masterfully. I beg forgiveness. I will do better for you, Master.

See that you do, or you shall find yourself caged all week. He said as he went back to stroking McCoy with the same determination as before. He enjoyed this form of teasing. But he would make sure it was well worth it for his slave. Again he went back to his story, It is customarily perceived my parents meet on earth, at the Embassy. This is in part the truth.  They did meet at the embassy, however, my mother was not a teacher yet. She was a student and on the chain of a group member. My father, who was a fellow master and at the time had no slave, he took an interest in my mother. He was most impressed with how she mastered the art of slavery. Her refinement and charm were just what my father needed in his position as Ambassador. By the end of the week, he had bought her. Not long after he went into the pon farr resulting in the conception and miscarriage of their first-born. Since my father was such a political figure he chose to take her as his wife. Instead of have them both dragged through the mud. He ran his hands down to McCoys balls, pulling them into his hand and mixing them.

Overtime, through their combined lose. My parents become much more then master/slave, they became lovers in every sense of the word. I grew up in the world of what humans term as BDSM. When I was thirteen I was accepted as a slave. Though, nothing sexual ever became of my first voyage into the world of slavery, I learned the brutal nature. My first master, Ices father, found it quite pleasing to beat his slaves to the point of drawing blood.

My first sexual experience came when Styrn forced me to take his daughter, I was fifteen years old. A male never touched his daughter at that point. She was unwilling to go along with the act, so Ice who was also present, was made to punish her. His hand stopped his tender play a moment as anger came to his eyes. She was barely alive when he finished beating herhis own sister. Yet I still had to take her He cringed at the thought of been forced to take her when she was hurting. He had been a tool in her rape. It was at that point, he signed up for Starfleet left Vulcan and TPring. Years later, she punished his cowardess by taking Stonn at a time his own life was at risk. Spock re-picked up the tempo, as he looked to McCoy. You may cum. He used the touch to know when McCoy was erupting. He had a special treat at the moment he did so.

McCoy closed his eyes, as the hot fluid built. With a loud moan he cried out, I'm cumming. His body jerked as he let lose, the wonderful pressure intensified when the pug was pulled from his ass. He fired his cream into the awaiting hand of Spock; who then took it to his lips. Spock drank in all the sweet ejaculate.

Most pleasing. He said as he licked some of the white cream from his lips. I believe you are due one more question.

McCoy took a moment to recover form Spocks seduction. Then pondered his final question, suddenly after hearing Spocks tail it became important for him to understand what Spock expected of him. Would he be used for pleasure or pain? Drawing his eyes up he drew a deep breath and spoke. What will be expected of me during the course of the week.

Spock gave a hint of a smile. You, doctor, will be used. His hand rested on his slave, pushing him to the edge of the bed. For example he said as he reached through a hidden hole in pants. Pulling out his cock.  I may call upon you at any point to he pulled the doctors head to his double ridges, give me fellatio. He was pleased when McCoy wrapped his lips around the swollen head. Even more pleased when McCoys hands came up to draw down his pants. Letting out a light moan as McCoy to the long shaft deep into his throat Spock finished his detailing of what would be expected. If you are able to please me enough, you will find a place in my bed. When your are not performing tasks of pleasure on myself or whomever I choice you to, you will clean this room, and feed me all my food and drink. He grabbed a fist of hair, pulling him up the shaft. You must learn the best way to please a man. You have a tongue; use it. To that McCoy looked up confused. Steward! Spock yelled out the cracked door. Once a far haired girl came I Spock told her, Show him how to properly give head. The girl quickly dropped to her knees, taking the massive beast into her hand then allowed it to drop and dangle. Slowly she licked around the spongy head. Making sure to pay equal attention to the twin set of ridges. Slowly she flicked the hole with the tip and began to fuck the tiny hole with the tip of her tongue. After tasting a bit of pre-cum, her mouth took his shaft into her mouth, at first just riding past the head. Slowly she drew him in further until her mouth was forced to open wider to take in some skin from his tight yet heavy balls. That is quite enough. Spock said as he pulled her head away. That is what you need to learn. That is what you WILL learn this week. He pumped his cock a few times, as a shot of cum hit the girl in the face.

Spock looked at McCoy who was kneeling with his head slightly bowed. At least he behaved like a slave. "I will give you a great number of chances to learn. If you come to a point that I found you have learned enough I will take you to the next level. He looked at McCoy, whose erection once again was displayed nicely. Have you ever been fucked in the ass?

McCoy blinked at Spock choice of words. He had never heard the Vulcan use such profound language. No, the closest I came was a pocket rocket stuck up my ass.

I see, Spock said as he released the bonds from the floor. Tonight. McCoy would sleep with him. He would prepare McCoy, to be able to receive more then the tiny pocket rocket. His voice was low as he led McCoy to the bed. As he tied him down, McCoys stomach tightly pressed against the sheets. A blindfold was placed over his eyes.

McCoy could feel every touch Spock did. His legs and wrists were held fast to the bed by strong bonds. Suddenly he felt his body being raised off the bed. Being held up only by the bonds. Then a table of sorts held his midsection, after some time there was only silence and McCoy was left to sit and wait.

Spock moved to another area to retrieve his tools, his bag of toys, as he called it. The first item he pulled out was a bamboo pole. The wooden pole was as long as his for arm, but no wider then his thumb. The pleasure from this was the sections that either jetted out or reseeded into the pole. A vanilla scented candle lit, placed on a plate, and then put atop McCoys back. Spock warmed some oil of the flickering light of the candle. Then drizzled the oil along McCoys nether hole. Slowly, he moved the pole to McCoys ass, sticking it in. He laughed as McCoys cock hardened. Tenderly at first, Spock moved the pole in and out letting it slip further in each time. Soon all left showing was the section of pole Spock carefully gripped. With a last pull, Spock removed the pole and replaced it with one a few sizes larger. As he began to fuck the doctor, he used the pole he just removed and started beating his back. Do not allow the candle to falter. He was most pleased thus far. The doctor moaned in great pleasure he had not moved his body much.

Just as Spock removed the second pole and was about to place a slightly larger one, McCoys body jerked. Instantly, the candle fell, causing Spock to quickly move his hand to it. When Spock was looking at the candle in displeasure, he felt a warm liquid hit his hand. With a sigh, he pulled his hand up, You should not climax without permission.

McCoy looked up wondering what the punishment would be. However, was distracted by a large green bubble forming on Spocks hand. His medical mind over took his role as a slave.  Spock your burned. Let me see it, he demanded.

Perhaps you do not understand your role as a slave. Spock warned as he gave his hand to McCoy. For these actions, there would be payment. A night curled on a cool floor mat without blankets. A pug in his mouth and replacing the cock cage might also help to prove to McCoy that he was not the one to be demanding. They were not on the Enterprise.