Summary: If it had been anybody else, Data would have been squeamish about letting them alter his neural net.
Warning: Um. Android brain fuckery?
Disclaimer: Characters aten't mine.
Note: I don't know if this sort of thing is even possible in canon. Whatever, artistic license.
There were definite perks to having an engineer boyfriend.
If it had been anybody else, Data would have been squeamish about letting them alter his neural net. But he trusted Geordi with his life, and besides he had promised repeatedly that he would never do anything to harm Data, he would be as careful as humanly possible, and if Data didn’t like anything he did, he would put things back the way they were immediately.
Any doubts he might have had were erased by their first experiment. Geordi deactivated him, and he returned to consciousness two hours later with twice his usual stamina and a refractory period of approximately five seconds. Geordi had some difficulty walking the next morning, but they agreed it was worth it.
From that point on, Geordi got more and more imaginative. He figured out how to turn any part of Data’s body into an erogenous zone; Data’s favorite was when he increased the sensitivity of his hands, which Data had suggested after remembering what he’d read about Vulcan physiology in one of his xenobiology courses at the academy. Data nearly came just from Geordi licking the pads of his fingers.
The following week, Geordi found a way to vary the strength of his orgasms. The strongest one left Data in tears, and Geordi immediately turned it down to a reasonable level (though still a little on the intense side).
Somewhat more disconcerting was when Geordi created a subroutine that allowed him to feel pain as pleasure. Data had enjoyed it at the time—Geordi throwing him onto the bed, fucking him roughly from behind, biting and clawing and holding him down—but the next morning he felt slightly sick at the memory. Geordi, as promised, put him back to normal, and spent the next hour holding him and promising that he would never do anything to hurt him again.
After that, Geordi found more pleasurable ways of torturing Data, like making it so that a designated word or phrase triggered sexual arousal. The first time he tried it, he used the phrase “plasma conduits,” which just happened to be the part of the ship that was malfunctioning that day. Data spent most of his shift uncomfortably hard inside his uniform trousers, constantly forced to hide behind whatever waist-high objects he could find in order to conceal his erection from other crewmembers. At the end of his shift, he stumbled into their shared quarters, almost delirious with desire, and begged for release. Geordi brought him off with his mouth three times in a row (they had decided to keep the five-second refractory period).
The next day, when Data had bridge duty, Geordi changed the trigger phrase to “make it so.” At least then he had his console to hide behind, although the private humiliation of being aroused by the captain’s voice was exquisite.
When all was said and done, though, Data did not feel the need for radical alterations. Having Geordi inside him was enough; the feel of his skin was enough; the taste of his sweat, the sound of his voice…in fact, the lot put together was almost too much. What kept Data coming back was that every bit of it, wicked imagination and insatiable lust and all, was tempered with warmth and compassion.
That, and the fact that he was hopelessly in love.