Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Paramount. Even given the nasty nature of this story, I still think I treat them better.
Rated NC-17
Inspector Kashyk knew that I didn't like him. The knowledge was there in the slow droop of his eyelids and in the curl of his lip as he politely offered me something from the replicator.
"It's not working," I told him curtly. Kathryn professed to trust him, but not enough to allow him full access to the replicator.
I wasn't there for tea and pleasantries anyhow. I had come to strike a bargain with Kashyk. A bargain that I had to make, as it was by far the lesser of two evils.
Earlier that day I had been in Kathryn's ready room. She was restless and very uneasy, pacing in front of her desk with a stilted stride.
"He knows, Chakotay." She turned to me and I saw the glitter in her eyes. The hard look she gets when she has made up her mind to do something that she knows I will object to... or to do something that she herself, intrinsically feels is wrong. "He knows about the telepaths."
I nodded. I had guessed as much myself. Manipulators like Kashyk are no good at keeping secrets. I had read his knowledge in the thin-lipped smiles when he thought himself unobserved, in the heat of his eyes as they followed Kathryn around the room and in the swagger of his gait down the corridors of the ship. Far too assured to be the refugee he claimed. Kathryn stepped up close to me. "I'm going to stop him." It was a statement.
I swallowed hard. The 'whatever it takes' remained unspoken, but I sensed the implication. And I also sensed her suppressed excitement. The edge of danger, blurring with arousal. I thought that I could smell her desire - she was standing that close to me. She knew what he wanted and maybe she thought it was a chance for her too. 'No,' I wanted to scream at her. 'No, Kathryn. Don't do this. Please. He wants to hurt you. That's how men like him take their pleasure. It won't just be sex; a quick release for him, a much needed intimacy for you. It will be harsh and cruel and brutal.'
Instead, I looked her full in the face. "Be careful, Kathryn," I said quietly. "He's a dangerous man."
She looked up at me, sharply. She knew then that I knew what she intended.
My stomach clenched with a familiar fear. Fear of losing her before she's even mine. I didn't want to think about her going to him, letting him do what he wanted with her body. It should be mine, she should be mine. I loved her so much. I wanted to take her in my arms, right there in the ready room, soothe her and put my hands over her body, my mouth on hers, my fingers between her legs to give her the release she craved. I wanted to give her what she sought. Make love to her slowly, tenderly, worshipfully even. If she let me, I would make love to her until her heart sang out and she couldn't deny what she feels for me -- what is between us -- any longer. And if she wanted to be taken without restraint, if she wanted me to pound into her body, twist her arms up behind her, bite her neck, pinch her breasts, then I would do that too. Not by my choice, but if it was hers, then I would do that as well.
In those moments of pain I forgot to shield my expression. I doubt she learned anything new; she knows well how much I love her, she just chooses not to acknowledge it. A flash of something crossed her flushed cheeks, guilt probably, then she turned away from me to face the viewport.
"Try not to worry, Chakotay," she said quietly. Compassionately. "I can look after myself."
There was a quiver in her voice, but whether it was pity for me, apprehension, or arousal, I couldn't tell.
I summoned up my best professional face. "Of course, Captain."
As I turned away to leave the room, I saw her looking after me. I think I was imagining it, but she looked wistful.
Believe me, I debated heavily with myself for the rest of that shift. The first officer's job is to protect the captain. What I was planning to do fell into that category. But if Kathryn found out - somehow, anyhow - she would not be happy. And maybe she did want Kashyk. Wanted the opportunity for lust, for passion, for sex with someone who would be gone. Who would never tell. Who she wouldn't have to face the next day on the bridge. Who would never reveal a captain's weaknesses, or her needs. Who was I to deny her one of her few sexual opportunities?
Kashyk was a cruel man. He would hurt her. He would hurt anyone who offered themselves to him. Maybe that was what she wanted -- but I wasn't going to take the chance of him breaking her. I'd seen him watching me too. I would be the one to go to him.
I turned back to the inspector and faced him across the table in the VIP quarters. Role playing, I reminded myself. I could do this. For Kathryn, I would do this.
He remained slumped in the chair, studying me through lazy eyes. For all his apparent relaxation, he was tautly alert, waiting to hear what I would offer.
"Myself," I said. "I've heard you like men as much as women."
"I do," he agreed pleasantly. "But I've had other offers today. Why should I accept yours?"
I sucked in a breath and hoped he didn't notice. Kathryn. How had she got to him first? I had left her on the bridge...
He smiled slightly. "What makes you think it was your captain who came to me?" he inquired.
"Wasn't it?" My voice sounded harsh in my own ears.
"You've given yourself away, Commander." He studied me appraisingly. "But what a shame to let such a noble, unselfish offer go unacknowledged. And men are so much more enjoyable to break." He turned away from me to stand, hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the stars. "Tomorrow night. Be here."
I turned to go. I had succeeded, so far. He would take me instead of Kathryn. His voice followed me. "Commander, you might like to ensure that the replicator is working. I might need... some things."
I went, leaving any chance of a good night's sleep behind me in the heavy atmosphere of the VIP quarters.
Kathryn looked at me strangely, on the bridge the next day. I didn't know if it was because I was nervous about the coming night, or if it was because she had gone to the inspector herself and had been turned down. I refused to let myself dwell on Kathryn's reaction if Kashyk had laughingly told her why he was refusing her offer. I thought she would be disgusted. I'd had male lovers in the past; some a rough male thing born of desperation, once a strangely tender encounter with a quiet alien with purple eyes who came to me silently in the night. I wasn't ashamed of those, but I was ashamed of this... arrangement with Kashyk. It was sordid; a dirty little deed better done in the bowels of the ship rather than in the plush surroundings of the VIP quarters.
Kathryn left shortly before the end of the shift. I was grateful that she hadn't asked me my plans tonight. I hadn't prepared an answer and I was afraid she would look at me and know from the shifting of my eyes away from hers; correctly interpret my guilty shuffle from foot to foot.
I deliberately didn't shower before I went to him. Somehow I thought that the natural sweat of the day might help mask the reek of fear that I thought might come later. And I would certainly want to shower afterwards. I wore my uniform. I thought it might take the brunt of some of his aggression.
Kashyk let me in without saying a word. I walked into the center of the room and stood loosely, feigning a relaxation I didn't feel. He leaned against the table and folded his arms. Still. Just studying me. Rather than see his unnerving gaze on me, I walked over to the replicator and used my security code to restore its functionality. If Kathryn or Tuvok questioned me later about that, I would just have to come up with a plausible reason. I only hoped that neither of them would think to call for the replicator logs, especially if Kashyk replicated... I shut off that line of logic with a mental twist.
"I like my lovers to be noisy," he said conversationally. "I want to know what you are feeling. Pleasure, or..." he strolled over to me, studying my face, to see if I would flinch at the implication. He ran two fingers around my collar, sniffed them, and rubbed them together distastefully. "Sweat." His lip curled. "Such low standards of hygiene you humans have. I smell your sweat. I've smelled foul odors from your messhall; the rank odor of female arousal..." He shuddered and I fought to stop my own shudder in the face of such contempt.
He leaned forward into my face and put his hands on either side of my turtle neck and pulled hard. The material is resistant, designed to withstand the rigors of away missions, and it didn't give easily. I felt the band of it cutting painfully into the back of my neck before it finally ripped under his hands. He picked up a small knife from the table. It wasn't anything found on this ship and I wondered how he had slipped it past Tuvok and the scanners. He slipped the flat blade of it under my turtle neck; I felt it cold against my skin for a moment before he ripped up, slicing through my turtle neck and uniform, then down the front into my groin. I tried not to flinch as I felt the cold press of the knife's edge against my cock, but he was careful; the material parted like butter on either side of the sharp blade. The fabric dropped down around my hips.
"Take it off." He turned his back on me, and I stripped off boots and the ruined uniform. It's always hard to be naked in the face of another's scorn and this was no exception. My cock lay flaccid and shriveled and I had goosebumps from the cool air in the quarters. Too cool - no doubt another deliberate move.
He looked me up and down then flicked my cock with a careless finger, the nail scraping the soft skin. "You can do better than this," he said. "Is this how you pleasure your captain?"
I didn't answer. He walked around behind me, studying me with insolent indifference. "You don't want to enjoy this, do you? You're here under sufferance as you want to protect *her*." I heard the amusement in his voice as he continued, "what makes you think she needs or wants your protection? She was... willing."
The double entendre was deliberate, that much was obvious. He wanted the mental picture to run through my head - was Kathryn willing when the two of them had sex, or was she only willing to consider the act, the deed? Kashyk the manipulator. I didn't let myself respond. Instead I studied his hands; thin hands, long fingers. Strong and pale. I deliberately made myself think of those fingers on my cock, I wanted to feel something - anything to counter the shrivel of distaste in my gut.
His hands were so pale. He often wore gloves. Naked hands. Caressing hands. Kathryn's hands. The sudden juxtaposition of the images made me start. It was Kathryn's hands that I imagined caressing me, running gentle fingers between my legs. My cock stirred, lengthened and thickened.
He came up behind me and slipped his hands around, over my arms, gentle, soothing. Those pale slim fingers running over my chest. I concentrated on thoughts of Kathryn. I felt his lips settle on the side of my neck. "Tell my your thoughts," he whispered, then bit down hard on the soft side of my neck.
"My thoughts are my own." I gasped as he pinched a nipple.
"So far," he agreed. He slipped around the front of me and let his hands move down to my cock. He palmed it between his two hands.
I thought of Kathryn and it stiffened more.
"Better," he said. "Now touch me."
I lifted my hands unsure of where to place them. Men like him need the power of sex, and I felt he wouldn't want the lazy caress of lovemaking, more the fierce fueled need of fucking. I burrowed my hands down into the folds of the front of his pants, working through the layers of cloth that sheltered his groin. His cock spilled out into my hand, semi erect. I wrapped my hand around it and started to pump. For Kathryn, I reminded myself, as I felt the alien cock in my hand, I was doing this for her so that she wouldn't have to.
He was hard quickly. His breath came in harsh pants in my face. "Turn around," he said. "Bend over."
Oh god, no lubricant. I dropped to hands and knees fighting not to tense. I could feel him over me, his hand on my shoulder, the other probing between my ass cheeks. He grunted as he forced the fat head of his cock between my buttocks. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek in anticipation. This would hurt. Then he laughed. "Ah, Commander," he sneered. "So afraid. You will feel that. But not yet." He moved around in front of me. "Stay there," he commanded. "Stay on your knees." And he thrust his cock at my mouth.
For Kathryn, I thought, as I did my best to please him. For her. He held my head over him and took his pleasure, spurting acrid and hot in my mouth. I tried not to gag.
He pulled away and hit me once, hard across the side of the face. "Not good enough." It was a vicious sneer. "Tell me why you are doing this."
I shook my head mutely. I didn't want to defile her name by mentioning it aloud in this place. He swung at me again, the sting of his hand bringing tears to my eyes. I moved to get up, but he stopped me. "Stay there," he said, "with your sweet little golden butt in the air like that." He moved to sit on the couch, still fully dressed, his cock, half hard now, falling out of his pants like a thick, fat slug. He stroked it absently. "What do you think I should ask for from the replicator, Commander?" His falsely solicitous tone wounded more than the normal sneering one. "Manacles? A whip? What would hurt you the most? Such tender testicles human males have..." He moved with unhurried panther grace to the replicator.
I stayed on my hands and knees. The humiliation was staining my cheeks, but I kept my head lowered in submissive position. For Kathryn. I was doing this for her. I could see the black boots pause in front of the replicator.
"Computer, one..." he appeared to consider, "tube of lubricant."
*Please specify*
I nearly laughed aloud, the broken laugh of imminent hysteria. Knowing my luck, I thought, the computer would give him engine grease.
"For intercourse," he snapped.
It must have materialized, as he strolled back around behind me. I felt him lower himself over me. "Such beautiful skin," he mused, "soft, golden... like a woman's. But I forget..." The tone became harsher and I felt the weight of his cock against my ass. "You like them skinny, insubstantial, milky white. Like your precious captain."
Cold slather of gel between my cheeks.
"Say her name." Conversational tone. The bulbous head poised for invasion.
I shook my head mutely, then trembled as I felt the first press of penetration. His hand reached around and stroked my withered cock and the movement forced him all the way in. Past sphincters and boundaries, real and imagined.
"Say her name." Starting to fuck with staccato strokes. His hand between my legs. Fullness inside me I couldn't expel. Kathryn. I'm doing this for Kathryn.
Harder. Forceful. Not enough lubricant. Stinging pain. Surging cock. Mine and his. His hand on my cock. Stiffening against my will. Tears in my eyes. Kathryn. I'm doing this for Kathryn. His grunts. My groans.
"Say her name." Harsher. Demanding.
God, this must end. "No."
His hand moving faster on my cock. Oh god, I'm going to come. No. Not here. Not with him. Wetness trickling down my thighs. It must be blood. Oh god, I'm coming. No. Not with her name on my lips...
"Say it."
"Kathryn... oh god, Kathryn..." Betrayal. Virgin whore, defiled in this place. My seed on his hands. Tearing tissues inside me. Wetness. And his hot ejaculate on me, in me. Tears on my cheeks.
And he's gone.
I stayed on hands and knees and panted. The sound was loud in the sepulchral room. He walked past me, his cock still hanging out of his pants, red with my blood.
"Kathryn," he said. And the anticipation in his voice made the last kernel of self esteem wither. "Come out now, my sweet."
And she walked out of the bedroom.
It all fell into place. The humiliation, the destruction of the last secret I kept, and the surety that even my little long-held nugget of hope was incinerated. I knew immediately that he had forced her to watch, and it was a masterful and cruel plan. After this, she would never want me. And the confident first officer was reduced to a pathetic groveling piece of humanity. I curled up on my side and closed my eyes. I didn't want to see the pity in hers.
Her voice reached me. It was hard and cold. "We've paid," she said. "We've both paid. Now let Voyager go and withdraw your inspection teams." I was sure I had to have imagined the tremor in her tone.
"As you wish, Captain. I will honor our agreement." Silky smooth and equally cold. "But the Commander and I were having such fun."
"You will be off my ship in the morning. And under guard all night." With a command she disabled the replicator's functionality.
I felt her footsteps echo through the deck plating under my cheek, then I felt her hand on my shoulder. She must have crouched down next to me. I kept my eyes closed, wishing that she would go away. Surely she realized that.
Her voice reached me. "Computer, site to site transport to my quarters for Commander Chakotay and myself."
And we were gone in the shimmer of the transport.
"Chakotay." Her voice held more of a quaver this time. "Chakotay... please, look at me."
I opened my eyes at the pleading in her tone. She was crouched down in front of me. Her hand shook on my shoulder and there were dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Pity tears. I saw teeth marks on her knuckles, blood. She must have bitten down hard to remain silent while she watched me… us. I shut my eyes again and started to rock, curling my hands around my knees, fetal position, blood, denial and tears, rocking compulsively on her carpet.
I heard her voice into the comm badge, paging the doctor for a dermal regenerator. The words barely registered; she was telling him firmly that he needn't come up.
Then, the whir of the transporter, and Kathryn's hands, gentle, soft, hands on my back. Lean white fingers, thin hands, long white fingers, strong and pale... parting my cheeks. No...
"Chakotay..." Tears in her voice. "It's Kathryn. Please, love, stop fighting me. I have to do this. I have to stop the bleeding."
I rocked. Hands locked around my knees. Felt her gently running the regenerator over my... the blood, the semen. God, Kathryn... don't look at me. I rocked. She let go of me. Dimly, I felt her slide to the floor, curl up to my back. Her arm over me, stroking the hand tightly clasped on my knees. I rocked. Her face in my hair, dampness on the back of my neck. I rocked.
"No, Chakotay." Up on her hands and knees, in front of me. Ass in the air. Presented. I rocked. "No." Stronger voice this time. "You will not go catatonic on me." I rocked.
She lowered her face to mine and kissed me. Kathryn kissed me. Soft lips on mine. Slow. Persuasive. My eyes opened. She was there in front of me. Tears on her face and tears in her voice.
"Chakotay," she whispered, "please come back to me. You did all that for me, don't withdraw now." She kissed me again, gently. Her hand touched my face. "Let's get you into the shower."
I let her help me to my feet. She slipped an arm around my waist. She didn't seem to care that I was naked. Dirty. Unclean. She led me to her shower. "Can you stand while I turn on the water?" She fiddled with the faucets for a minute, testing the water temperature, then taking my arm she pushed me gently into the shower.
I stood passively, letting the water flow over my head, over my chest, my back, my ass, down my legs, down the drain.
She was motionless, watching me. "You need to wash yourself." The tears were thick in her voice. She hesitated for a moment, then swiftly stripped off uniform and boots. Wearing panties and her tank she stepped into the shower with me and washed me like a child. Her hands stroked over me, lathering soap over my back and chest, then she squatted down to wash my legs. I lifted each foot for her to soap between the toes. Another long moment of hesitation, then she very gently washed my cock and around to my buttocks. Lean white fingers, thin hands, long white fingers...
Dripping she stepped out of the shower. I watched her turn the water off, then she wrapped me in a towel. "I'll be back in a moment, Chakotay. I'm going to get you some clothes." A kiss. On the lips. Kathryn kissed me. Then she was gone.
The relief of being alone was tempered by the fear that she wouldn't come back. But before the thoughts had coalesced properly, she returned. Gently, she unwrapped me from the towel. I stepped into the boxers she held out for me and let her tug them up my legs. Taking me by the arm, she steered me into her bedroom. I climbed into bed and curled up on my side. The urge to rock compulsively faded as she wrapped herself around me, nestling up to my back. Her hand curled loosely on my chest. I felt her lips touch my nape and her thighs shift against mine. Eventually, soothed by her presence, I slept.
I woke to find her leaning over me in the dark. The starlight touched her hair and gilded her shoulders under the tank she wore. There were fresh tear tracks on her face.
"He's gone," she said. "We will be out of Devore space in less than twenty-four hours."
I nodded. I didn't trust my voice.
"I wanted to kill him," she said, in an unsteady tone. "For what he did to you. For making me watch you suffer." She rolled over so that she was draped across my chest. Her face was close to mine, so close that I could see the downy hairs on her cheeks, the even texture of her skin. "Chakotay… I know why you went to him. No-one has…" her voice caught slightly and she took a shuddering breath before continuing, " no-one has ever cared for me like that, like you did. I wish you hadn't."
So she had wanted him after all and I had stopped her. Maybe I had even interrupted them.
She must have seen my face as she reassured me with a palm on my chest. "No. Not what you're thinking. I wish you hadn't gone to him, because being made to watch him… do those things to you was far worse than anything he could have done to me."
I hesitated. I couldn't let myself read more into her words than she meant. She cared for me as a friend, a first officer. I was imagining the naked need in her eyes. The softness I saw in her face as she gazed at me wasn't really there.
"Chakotay, I…" She hesitated and the hand resting on my chest shook slightly. "I want to tell you…" She closed her eyes briefly. "Ah, hell… why is this so hard?"
And she kissed me. On the lips. A slow fusion of lips, opening, softening and then, sweet spirits, tongues, crossing barriers real and imagined. And her hand was in my hair and my lips were on hers and I felt the slow glide of her thigh as it moved over mine and settled into my hips, so that she must surely feel how much I wanted her. And there was arousal and liquid wanting, so wonderful after what had gone before, so sweetly glorious after the dark, drowning humiliation of the previous day. And she was soft and female, curves of light and shadow. And she was underneath me and around me, and oh god, I was inside her, wondering just what had happened to give me this, to give me her. And I didn't know how we had got to this after so long, but she was moving with me, undulating around me. And I was drowning again, but this time it was so right. I was drowning in her and kissing her mouth, over and again, our mouths melded together, our sexes joined. And she told me finally, words of love to confirm what she showed me so clearly with her body. And finally, it was as it should be.
We showered together, afterwards, and I washed her as tenderly as she had laved me earlier. I soothed her and held her as we clung together, water flowing over us.
And I cleaned my seed from her inner thighs and saw the bruises. Dark and livid against the soft, white skin, cloudy crushed-purple fingertip marks. Bruises that I hadn't put there.
FIN
Feedback? Please. Shayenne
© Shayenne, November 2000 Please email me to post/distribute elsewhere.