
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2198634.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Star_Trek:_Alternate_Original_Series_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Joanna_McCoy_&_Leonard_McCoy, James_T._Kirk_&_Joanna_McCoy, Mirror_James
      T._Kirk/Mirror_Leonard_McCoy
  Character:
      Mirror_James_T._Kirk, Mirror_Leonard_McCoy, Mirror_Joanna_McCoy
  Additional Tags:
      Mirror_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-08-25 Words: 3101
****** The Bane of Innocence ******
by writteninhaste
Summary
     Young does not mean helpless.
Notes
     Written for this_prompt_over_at
     [http://l-stat.livejournal.net/img/community.gif?v=556?v=118.7]
issenterprise kink meme 2.0
Joanna McCoy was lovely, any fool could see that. Sweet, honey-blonde hair that
had already begun to darken with the passing of the years; wide, expressive
hazel eyes; strong nosed, full lipped and soft cheeked. She was still a child –
but only just; teetering on that tantalising cusp of adulthood. Remington could
already see the shadows of future curves: the bourgeoning swell of her breasts,
her hips; the silky skin of her legs still smooth and hairless. He hungered for
it; longed to taste the innocence she kept – so different from the other girls
with their hollow eyes; their resigned and unresisting lips.
Joanna McCoy. Her name breathed along his skin. She was such a fragile looking
thing. Remington had seen her veritably quake when one of the older boys had
looked her way the other day. She had trembled; flushing pink. Still at such a
tender age – unknowing of the lusts of men – but able to instinctually shiver
at the touch of so much heat. It was exquisite.
Yet, his usual methods would have to be rethought. She required no additional
tuition. Her grades surpassed those of her peers – even in the physical arena
she excelled. An ability to withstand discomfort then – perhaps she could even
be taught to anticipate, enjoy the pain. It would be delicious if he did not
have to listen to her scream; if she would sigh and cringe and whimper as she
rode him – that tight, sweet, virgin heat. If he could ensure she would not
scream, he could see her night after night and every time, leave her mouth
gloriously free. Oh, he had longed for such a playmate for some time. Still, he
would need some pretext. The Headmaster needed plausible deniability after all.
Joanna had once expressed enjoyment in playing chess. He would offer her those
lessons instead.
===============================================================================
It was easy to get Joanna to agree to private chess lessons. He offered to
arrange the sessions during ‘social hour’ which he knew most students found
either tedious or stressful – so many opportunities to inflict harm when
teachers were not watching. And Joanna had seemed honestly pleased by the
prospect; she showed no caution or reserve at being singled out for such
attention. She was delectably naïve. All the fault of that fool father of hers
no doubt. A doctor, he had heard Joanna say once; one who left her here because
his Captain could not do without him. Remington had to give the man credit –
his persistence in retaining his child’s naïveté could be no small feat. Still,
he’d heard better euphemisms for being a kept whore. Joanna, in her innocence,
took great pride in her Daddy’s position. A prized officer, she called him; a
favourite of a favourite of the Empire. Her mother was never mentioned. Dead
from what Remington presumed. Good. He had no patience for women who tried to
trade their aged and life-worn bodies in their daughter’s stead. What could
degenerating tissue have in place of soft and nubile flesh?
Joanna knocked once, twice, lightly against the door, obeying his call to enter
with all the delicacy and quiet of a mouse. She stood, huddled, in the space
before his desk – school shirt thin and large around her shoulders; skirt
cinched tightly at the waist.
“Sit.” Remington told her; gesturing at the chess board, inlaid into a table by
the chaise. He watched as Joanna sat, perching on the end – her wide, young
eyes surveying the cool marble of the chess set. “A gift from my father.”
Remington told her. “We were very close.” Something flickered behind Joanna’s
eyes. Remington smiled. Clear enough that his way into this girl was through
her father. “Let’s see what you know, shall we?”
===============================================================================
Joanna played well. It was difficult to fabricate moments of instruction. In
the end, Remington deliberately sacrificed a few of his own pieces just to
forge a reason. At last, Joanna moved her queen and Remington held up a hand in
triumph.
“Ah. See what has happened here? Look at the board? You see?”
Joanna frowned, no doubt wondering just what it was she was supposed to
understand. “Come round here, see if you can’t see better from this angle. Next
time we’ll play with a moveable board – make things easier, but for now stand
right here and let me know what you see.” Dutifully, Joanna slid off her chair,
the hem of her skirt catching on the edge giving a brief, tantalising glimpse
of thigh. Remington pushed his seat back to make space for the girl between his
legs, sighing with appreciation as she bent at the waist to peer through the
pieces.
“I don’t think I see what you mean, Sir.” Ah, he loved her voice: young and
high and sweet. He thought that when she spoke he could hear the wind through
southern trees and the lazy spiral fall of peach blossoms in the breeze.
Remington leant forward, pressing his chest against her lower back and hips. He
felt her stiffen ever so slightly beneath him but he purposefully carried on as
though nothing were amiss. He brought one arm past her waist to rest against
the edge of the table as he spoke. “If you look here, you’ll see that your
pieces are in a good position to end the game quickly. Three decisive moves –
more if you’re a little sloppy – and it would be checkmate. But see here, if
you withdraw the queen; move your bishop. The game would take longer, you would
loose a few pieces along the way – pawns mostly – but you would reduce me, in
the end, to playing with nothing more than a rook and my king. A decisive
victory is an unquestionable benefit Joanna, but never underestimate the beauty
of the cat and mouse game – of playing with your opponent before you crush him
completely.”
Joanna bit her lip, nodding thoughtfully, and Remington took the moment to
slide his free hand swiftly beneath the hem of her skirt. His fingers brushed
the elastic of her underwear, the smooth cotton of the fabric; she smelt so
innocent.
“Sir, I don’t think this is proper. My Daddy wouldn’t like it.”
“Your father is a long way from here, Miss McCoy. There’s little he can do
about it. Now be a good girl, and spread your legs a little wider. There we
go.”
Joanna was trembling. Remington shushed her encouragingly before lifting the
hand that had been resting against the table to undo her blouse. It was
slightly awkward from this angle, but he had the benefit of practice.
“I’m serious, Sir.” Joanna tried to keep her voice firm, but Remington could
hear it cracking. “My Daddy would be very angry if he knew what you were doing.
So would my Father for that matter.”
Remington snorted. If the Doctor had a spouse again then he had lost his
position as Captain’s Whore. The girl was worse than friendless now. Working
one hand into the now-open blouse, Remington tugged Joanna down to his lap and
whispered in her ear. “And just who is your Father, that you think he can
protect you all the way out in space?”
Joanna suddenly went predator still and Remington froze instinctually. Her
voice, when she spoke, was honey-thick and lazy with suppressed laughter.
“James Tiberius Kirk. Captain of the ISS Enterprise.”
Remington had a moment to register a feeling of absolute fear before nerve-
blinding pain bit into his skin. He screamed, trying to writhe free but the
chair kept him from backing away. The agony ceased and Remington gazed blearily
into soulless, hazel eyes. He saw Joanna reach for the pressure point at the
back of his neck, but he didn’t have the energy to fight.
===============================================================================
It took Remington an inordinate amount of time to wake. Joanna contented
herself in the meantime by securing the ties on his ankles and wrists; his tie
and belt were not have been her manacles of choice, but they were sufficient. A
gag was easily acquired by robbing the man of his decorative handkerchief.
Satisfied, Joanna laid her various knives upon the chest board. Her father had
promised her a knife she could wear down her back and hide beneath her braid,
but her Daddy didn’t want her carrying one until she had finished growing; he
was worried her posture might be affected from the weight. Joanna contemplated,
briefly, using the agoniser her parents had given her to wake Remington up but
she didn’t want to erode his resilience before she’d even begun experimenting.
Eventually, Remington regained consciousness. He bucked wildly at the bonds
initially, but Joanna just rested her weight against the table and waited him
for realise the futility of his attempts. Once he had quieted, she set to work
– carefully informing him of what she was about to do before she jabbed the
heel of her hand into his larynx. The move would work better once she was fully
grown – as it was the damage to the vocal cords was minimal, though within
acceptable parameters.
Joanna started with the chest. The skin of the torso was always the easiest to
work with – it parted so very nicely. Curious, Joanna carved out a mound of
flesh from just beneath the ribs. Blood dropped thick and heavy from the gash.
Her Daddy had explained briefly how the agoniser worked – Joanna wanted to see
what the difference in reaction was when the instrument was exposed to the raw
nerve ending of a wound as apposed to healthy flesh. Remington passed out.
Disappointed, Joanna continued carving her way down his body. Let him wake up
when the pain got too much. It was tedious to have to wait.
===============================================================================
Joanna wiped the blade from her knife with her thumb, sucking on the digit
thoughtfully as she surveyed her captive carefully. Still breathing – which was
a bonus. She didn’t have the necessary equipment here to resuscitate him.
Joanna lowered the blade to his skin again and Remington screamed – well, as
much as he was able around his ruined vocal cords. Tugging his head forward,
Joanna placed her knife against her teacher’s throat.
“You know, so many people think it would be easier to tilt the head back to
slit the throat. But if you do, the tendon hyper-extends and it acts a little
like a shield and you don’t always get a nice, clean cut. You have better
access to the artery this way.” Remington’s eyes went wide – a dying man’s last
breath of fear. “Maybe I should have just castrated you and sent you on your
way.” Joanna continued conversationally. “Father and Daddy are going to be
furious I didn’t let them play with you.”
“Joanna McCoy put the knife down.”
Joanna turned, startled. The Headmaster was standing in the doorway, phaser
ready. Joanna sighed. Father was not going to be happy she had let her guard
down like that.
Blood flew in a scalding arc even as the knife clattered to the ground. Joanna
turned to the Headmaster in abashed innocence. “Oops?” she said.
===============================================================================
Jim cocked an eyebrow at Bones as they assembled on the Transporter. McCoy was
scowling – had been ever since he had received the message from Joanna’s school
informing him of their plans to extract payment from him over ‘damages’ his
daughter had caused. McCoy had turned white when he heard – but whether it was
from fear or fury was unclear. Uhura patched the message through without
orders: expect Dr McCoy and accompanying party post-haste. The rest of the
bridge crew were already assembled and ready. It was no secret that they saw
Joanna McCoy as the continuation of a legacy – one they were adamant they were
going to protect.
“Doctor.” Spock said. “It would be illogical for your daughter’s school to
attempt to harm what the Enterprise protects.”
McCoy scowled, arm twitching from the suppressed urge to hypo the Vulcan.
“Except they don’t know the Enterprise protects her do they? It’s only my name
on the damn paperwork.” That last jab was aimed at Jim and he doubted any of
his command staff missed it. Sickbay had experience a reign of terror during
that particular fight. Bones had taken all his frustration against Jim out on
those hapless enough to get themselves injured. Jim knew McCoy had never really
forgiven him for the decision. Kirk had insisted he could have no weakness
acknowledged officially; his name would not appear on any of Joanna’s papers.
He had hoped Bones would see the logic of the situation: if no one knew Joanna
could be used against Jim then she was safe. She would have time and room to
grow. She would become an officer in her own right one day but she had to live
long enough to get there.
If she died, Bones would kill him. There was only so much love servants of the
Empire could hold in their hearts and Bones had given nearly all he had to
Joanna. The little bit Jim had managed to squirrel away for himself could never
hope to weight equal to it.
“If they’ve hurt one hair on her head Jim.” McCoy said, growling low in Kirk’s
ear as Scotty ready the Transporter beam. Jim did not miss the threat.
“I gave up a hell of a lot to become Captain of this ship.” He said with
feigned tranquillity. “I’d give up even more to keep it.” He wouldn’t go down
without a fight. It might destroy him – just a little – to kill Bones. But he
could do it.
McCoy’s jaw snapped tight, his nostrils flaring, but Scotty spoke before he
could get a word out. “Alright, Captain, you’re good to go. I’ll be putting you
down in the main atrium. Someone’s supposed to meet you there.”
“Understood, Mr Scott. Energise.”
===============================================================================
The décor of the Imperial Educational Academy seemed to run to a distinct
theme: dark wood, inlaid metals and too many dark spaces for assailants to wait
and hide. A thin, whip-sharp woman with an ugly scar bisecting the middle of
her face was waiting to meet them. Her breath quickened ever so slightly at the
sight of the Imperial uniforms, but other than that she gave no sign of having
recognised the landing party.
“Dr McCoy.” The woman said. “The Headmaster is expecting you, follow me. The
rest of your party may wait here.”
“We go too.” Chekov said. Jim smiled at the woman when she looked ready to
disagree with the sentiment. She swallowed thickly and nodded once.
“Very well.”
McCoy strode on and Jim motioned to let them lead the party; McCoy first, Jim
at his side, the rest of the Bridge staying steadily three steps behind. They
were led down a narrow, well light hallway with security feeds running either
side. The woman rapped sharply on the door before letting herself in. Only
Bones and Kirk followed her.
Joanna was sat demurely on one of the hard chairs before the desk. Her hands
were bound her back but she appeared otherwise unharmed.
“Daddy.” She said happily upon seeing them. “Father.”
Jim noted with interest that the headmaster’s face – which had already turned
an unhealthy grey at the sight of him – bleed to green-tinged white at Joanna’s
greeting.
“Hey kid.” Jim said. McCoy had already knelt to cut the bindings. No one said a
word of protest.
Jim sat himself uninvited in one of the free chairs, smiling innocuously at the
Headmaster whilst Bones and Joanna exchanged a whispered conversation.
“Joanna will be spending the night aboard the Enterprise.” Jim said, once McCoy
had satisfied himself as to Joanna’s state of health. “She will return to
school tomorrow evening. You may discuss these alleged ‘damages’ with us then.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The Headmaster said. “The situation will be taken
care of. We look forward to having Miss McCoy back with us soon.”
“Thank you.” Jim smiled. He motioned with a hand toward the door. “Joanna,
Bones – after you.” Father and daughter left. But Jim stayed momentarily to
watch the look on the Headmaster’s face as he heard cries of ‘Aunt Uhura’,
‘Uncle Spock’ and saw the deadly-quiet faces of Sulu and Chekov. The man looked
ready to give his phaser a blowjob. Sweeping from the room, Jim let the door
swing shut with a satisfying crack.
===============================================================================
Uhura absconded with Joanna the moment they were back on the ship. Jim didn’t
protest. The bridge grew would want to assure themselves that their protégé was
safe. Following McCoy to their quarters, Jim poured himself a hefty drink and
poured another one for Bones. Pressing it into the doctor’s hand, Jim proceeded
to strip himself of his uniform.
“So,” he said. “You going to be moody and recalcitrant all night or do I have a
shot at victory sex?”
McCoy snorted, shedding his clothes and kicking his boots to a far corner of
the room. “You get your victory sex.”
Jim smiled; wholly unamused. “Joanna’s safe.”
“That she is. Now stop talking ‘bout my daughter.”
Jim noted the lack of the term ‘our’ but didn’t comment; time enough to prove
McCoy wrong later. Crawling over Bones onto the bed, Jim began nipping his way
across the doctor’s chest. McCoy lay back against the pillow, hissing slightly
when Jim bit sharply at the juncture between ear and neck.
“I would have killed you. Had anything happened to her.”
Jim reached for the lube beside the bed and slicked his fingers with it. McCoy
was not particularly aroused, but that hardly mattered. “I wouldn’t have let
you kill me, Bones.”
McCoy shuddered as Jim worked two fingers inside him. “I would have tried,
though.”
Jim nodded. “I know.” He sank into Bones without checking if the other man was
ready. “We don’t really love each other, do we?”
“We love each other, kid.” McCoy replied. “As much as we are able.”
Jim turned away and closed his eyes. “We love Joanna though.”
Bones laughed; bitter and sharp like broken glass. “Yeah, we both love Joanna.”
===============================================================================
The next day, when she returned to school, Joanna found a knife long enough to
fit down her spine complete with size-appropriate sheath and holster, resting
on her pillow. The sheath bore the planet and dagger symbol of the Empire.
Slipping her hand into her pocket, Joanna fingered the laser scalpel her Daddy
had given her before departing. It’s smooth, metallic edges fit easily into her
palm. Taking the scalpel out, she laid it by the dagger’s side.
One gift from her Daddy. One gift from her Father. Normally gifts came from
them combined.
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
