Indian Captive Trilogy – Episode 3: “The Game”

 

Rated: NC-17, yes indeedy, definitely no one under legal age allowed. Story includes quasi-non-consensual sex.

By: Tessa

Disclaimer: Paramount owns ‘em.

Summary: Kathryn gets the flu and is out of commission. Having nothing better to do with her time, she starts creating some hot daydreams starring herself and you-know-who.

 

This is episode 3 of a trilogy. Each story can stand alone, but you might enjoy the others: Episode 1: "Shoshala" and Episode 2: "Ready".

 

Surgeon general’s warning:  Reading this story may cause you to spontaneously combust. Do not attempt to read it unless you have a fire extinguisher or an ice-cold shower available.

 

Comments: A note for any would-be Lotharios who might want to follow Chakotay’s example in this story (do men ever read these stories?): DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME. This story is fantasy, not a how-to sex manual. Do not confuse it with real life. In real life, NO means NO unless you and the lady involved have agreed by prior arrangement that it means something else.

 

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. (Translation: I’m guilty as hell.) I have great respect for Native American cultures, but in these stories I succumb to the stereotyped, romanticized view that is the province of romance writers and Hollywood.

 

Some of the details regarding Cherokee life are accurate (at least, if I can believe the research I did on the web), but some is made up. The Cherokee in North Carolina, before they were forced to emigrate West in the horrific episode known as the “Trail of Tears” – a very dark time in American history – did live in villages of wooden structures, drink persimmon “beer”, take captives as reparations for captured or killed tribe members, and belong to clans (and still do).

 

 

 

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One more day to go in her quarantine for this annoying Kradin flu. Kathryn Janeway had already spent much of her time concocting two elaborate – and erotic – day-dreams starring her sexy first officer. How many more trashy holo-novels could she write in her mind? And how depraved did she dare to get? She had given Chakotay more of an edge in her second tale, but darn, he’d still turned out too nice. She needed him to take control…like she wished the real one would sometimes. She was tired of being the captain. Why couldn’t the commander command her for a change…

 

 

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The sun had burned the morning haze off the Blue Ridge Mountains as the Cherokee raiding party took their position at the edge of the woods alongside a small farmstead. The five braves were hopeful of finding a lone inhabitant to make quick work of their mission to return with one captive.

 

Chakotay, the leader of the group, and his brothers and cousins were intent on settling a debt. Chakotay’s wife Moon Shadow had been killed in an encounter with white trappers, and Cherokee law demanded that balance be restored. Since the Cherokees saw all whites as belonging to one clan, any white would do to satisfy the debt.

 

Chakotay scrutinized the small farm. The tiny cabin appeared to be smaller than his own; the cultivated plot looked to be able to support no more than two or three people. The paddock, obviously home to at least one horse, was empty. The spirits might be smiling on them – finding a woman alone, or with small children, while her husband was out hunting, would be the ideal situation. Female captives were much easier to handle.

 

But was anyone at all home? The Indians sat crouched, patiently waiting for more information.

 

Finally, just as Chakotay was considering creeping up on the cabin before the absent horse could return with his rider, the cabin door flew open and an auburn-haired woman emerged. She was carrying a rifle – no prudent settler in these parts was ever caught without one – and a large basket. She gave her property a cursory glance, then walked over to the vegetable plot and began picking corn.

 

The cabin screened her view of the raiding party’s hiding place, and Chakotay motioned the braves to silently move to the side of the cabin. Looking through the small window, they could see that no one else was there. They would surprise her as she opened the door to enter – her hands would be occupied, and they would be close enough to grab the rifle before she could aim it.

 

Chakotay observed her as she worked, careful not to let himself be seen. He appreciated what he saw. She was a beautiful woman. Not so young, but then neither was he. Her striking red hair reminded him of a vivid sunset. She moved with a simple elegance; even as she swatted the flies from around her face he thought he had never seen such a graceful movement.

 

She turned toward them to walk back to the cabin, and Chakotay signaled his men to be ready. As she reached for the door, holding the rifle and basket in the same arm, Chakotay and one brave rushed onto the porch. Two others had come around the cabin to block her escape from the other side, and the fifth one took a position at the corner of the porch, his rifle trained on her in an instant.

 

The woman screamed and tried to move her gun into place, but Chakotay jerked it from her grasp. She glared at him, and on her face he saw not so much the fear he expected, but anger and defiance. She had arresting gray-blue eyes that pierced him like arrows. Up close, her beauty nearly overwhelmed him. She was provoking a reaction in him he never expected. Was it simply a side effect of the jolt of energy that had shot through him as they captured her? No, it was more than that. There was something familiar and compelling about her, as if he knew and desired her from a long time ago.

 

His captive struggled to hide her fear and project only anger. “What do you want?” she spat out, futilely willing her heart to slow down. She prayed that they were only after household goods, livestock, food – not her.

 

“You, dear lady,” said Chakotay. She glanced up into his intense brown eyes to find him looking her over with a sly smile on his face.

 

He spoke English. Thank God for small favors. “Well, you can’t have me,” she insisted in a fit of false bravado. “So please take your friends and leave.”

 

The sly smile broke into a broad grin, accompanied by brilliant dimples and a low chuckle. Chakotay loved feisty women. Yes, she was quite something. “Your beauty and your nerve greatly exceed your wisdom, dear lady.” He looked around at his compatriots. “Would you have me believe that one small white woman, however strong-willed, is a match for five Cherokee warriors?” He stepped closer to her and ran a finger down her cheek; she recoiled at his touch. “I might believe you are a match for me. I am already your captive. But five of us – surely it is clear to you that the choice is not yours.”

 

What did he say? Good lord, he was flirting with her. She stared up at him in disbelief. Suddenly it registered that he was devastatingly handsome. He had spectacular lips; she wished she could run her finger across the full lower one, and across the intriguing tattoo on his forehead…

 

What was she thinking? Her life was in jeopardy, and she was checking out the merchandise! She must be losing her mind.

 

“But I am forgetting my manners. My name is Chakotay, and these are my brothers Sun Dancer and Standing Bear, and my cousins Flaming Arrow and Hawk’s Wing.” The other braves rolled their eyes and chuckled among themselves. They were accustomed to Chakotay’s irreverent ways. Leave it to him to act as though he were courting a woman instead of abducting her. “And you are…?”

 

“You may call me Mrs. Davis,” she retorted.

 

“Much too formal,” he said, shaking his head. “What is your given name? Or shall I give you a new one? Perhaps Wildcat? It seems to suit you.”

 

“Kathryn will do,” she said sullenly.

 

Chakotay reached into the pouch he carried and pulled out a length of rope. “Well, Kathryn, a wildcat like you might entertain thoughts of escape, so I must restrain you a bit. He tied the rope around her waist, then tied her wrists together, leaving some play in the rope between her hands and waist. Several feet in length remained, and he took that in hand to lead her. In an almost courtly manner, he gestured toward the woods. “Shall we?”

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

As they set off into the woods, Kathryn looked back at the farm, in the vain hope that Jeffrey would return early. No, that was a stupid thought. He wouldn’t stand a chance against five warriors either, and would either be killed or captured as well. Poor, sweet Jeffrey. How would he cope without her? He would blame himself, even though she was the one who had insisted that they buy a farm in this remote part of North Carolina, so near the Cherokee lands. The western mountains were so beautiful, she had fallen in love with this country. Now it might be the death of her.

 

“Why are you kidnapping me?” she asked Chakotay.

 

“You are payment for a debt owed to me,” he replied simply.

 

“A debt? My husband and I owe you nothing!” she exclaimed.

 

“White men killed my wife. The debt must be paid to restore balance. I don’t know why whites cannot understand that,” he said, shaking his head. “You cannot understand the responsibility you all share to settle debts incurred by your people.”

 

Kathryn stopped short, nearly losing her balance when Chakotay continued pulling the rope, not realizing she had stopped. “Does that mean I am to be killed too? Blood for blood?”

 

He looked at her more seriously than before. “That depends on your behavior, and my skills of persuasion.” She knit her brows, puzzled. “The women’s council of our village will determine your fate. They may decide you are to die, but I will do my best to convince them to let you live.”

 

“And then what?” she asked warily.

 

“Then you would be my slave, of course,” he said as he smiled at her with undisguised desire.

 

A combination of fear and arousal sent a surge like lightning through her body. As a slave, how would she be expected to serve this master? A picture flashed through her mind of him forcing her beneath him, tearing her clothes off, holding her down as he plunged his hot hard cock into her… She was aghast to realize that far from feeling revolted at such a thought, she was excited by it. By the powers, she was becoming wet from the idea!

 

“I don’t like either of those choices!” she cried in protest, trying to repress her wanton thoughts.

 

“Perhaps not, but the choice is not yours to make, dear lady. Nor mine. But I should have some influence. My mother is the head of the women’s council, and several of my aunts and cousins are on it. And the council normally takes into account the wishes of the one to whom the debt is owed,” Chakotay explained as they resumed walking.

 

As they walked silently along through the green cool woods, Kathryn pondered her reaction to this unusual Indian. On one level, it was easy enough to explain. He was damned attractive! Those full lips alone could occupy her dreams, but there was so much more: charming dimples, the manly cleft in his chin, the intriguing curves of his nose, and that tattoo, which gave him a somewhat wild look. He had shoulder-length jet-black hair, ornamented with a few feathers and turkey bones. He worn homespun trousers, but was naked from the waist up, and just the sight of his chest was enough to heat her blood. His body was smooth and hairless, golden, glistening with a light sheen of sweat. She watched the play of his muscles: the sinewy cords in his forearms, his bulging biceps, the powerful muscles of his back, chest and abdomen. She wanted to feel them move beneath her hands.

 

But she had seen handsome men before – hell, Jeffrey was as handsome as he was – and they didn’t have the effect on her that he did. What was it about him? There was some animal energy about him that roused a primal need in her – he had some indefinable power, some controlling force…

 

That was it. Control. He resonated with a basic desire she harbored to be controlled. Jeffrey never controlled her; she walked all over him like a rug. He was sweet and gentle – probably too sweet and too gentle. He was also ineffectual and indecisive. Around him, she had become domineering, controlling, a real bitch on wheels. They simply weren’t well suited to be equal partners; after 10 years together she could no longer even fathom why she had married him. She had grown to resent him and his weaknesses, and the shrew she had become.

 

Even in bed she retained most of the control. She initiated nearly all of their lovemaking – well, that wasn’t hard to understand, since in their earlier years she had tended to reject most of his overtures. After a while he had stopped asking. He seemed willing enough to try to please her, but his ineptitude cooled her ardor and took away the patience she needed to help him learn what he needed to know. They lay together less and less; nowadays she was far more apt to wait until Jeffrey wasn’t around and seek release by her own hand.

 

But this Indian – this was a man that would not surrender control to her! He could admit to being captivated by her without diminishing his own power. He could subjugate her without crushing her. Imagining life as his captive simultaneously frightened and thrilled her, like leaping off high rocks into a pool of water below – dangerous and exhilarating all at once.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

They walked on silently, for hours. As Kathryn mulled over her own problems, it suddenly occurred to her that Chakotay had suffered a great loss.

 

“Chakotay?” she said.

 

“Yes, Wildcat?” he smiled.

 

She stifled a smile. Secretly, she enjoyed being compared to a wildcat, and having a name he had given her, but she would never let him know that. “It just occurred to me that I did not tell you how sorry I am that you lost your wife. You must miss her very much.”

 

He chuckled and gave an ironic smile. “No, not at all, but thank you for your concern.” She eyed him with surprise. “The truth is, my wife and I got along together like a couple of snarling wolves. I certainly didn’t wish for her death, but I can’t pretend I am sorry she is gone.”

 

Kathryn stared at him with great annoyance. “Do you mean to tell me I have been taken captive because of a woman you didn’t even care about? Where is the sense in that?”

 

He regarded her with a puzzled look. “My feelings are not relevant. Her spirit cannot rest, cannot move on to the spirit world until the debt has been paid.”

 

“Why did you marry her if you did not love her? Or did you fall out of love?” she inquired.

 

“Bah! No, there was never love. It was a political alliance. Most Cherokee marriages are not arranged, but I am the son of our chief, she was the daughter of theirs. Our parents agreed on the union and instructed us to carry it out,” he explained with a sour look on his face.

 

“That’s terrible!” Kathryn exclaimed.

 

“Yes, but it was duty. Your European kings and queens often make such marriages, do they not? It is no different. And you – do you love your husband?” He had his own guess – she had not even mentioned a husband in the hours they had been together.

 

“I…yes, I do,” she said with some hesitation. Well, she did…sort of…in a way. But her pause had told Chakotay something closer to the truth.

 

They continued on in silence. Duty, mused Kathryn. She had a duty too. Whatever the shortcomings of her marriage to Jeffrey, she was his wife, and it was her duty to remain faithful to him if possible. Besides, regardless of her attraction to this magnificently constructed Indian in front of her, he was still her captor, operating under a code of conduct that was counter to everything she believed. She would not submit to him.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Finally, in the late afternoon, as the shadows were lengthening, they approached the Cherokee village. Chakotay stopped abruptly, waving his companions on, and turned to face Kathryn. He dropped his cheeky tone and addressed her with great seriousness. “Tonight the women’s council will meet and decide your fate. I tell you again that it is not my decision to make. It is very important that you do exactly as I tell you at all times. If you are willful and defiant, and if the women feel that you will be difficult to control, they will be more likely to put you to death. I would not like that at all.” He stood closer to her, cupping her chin with his hand. She glared at him. “I like your fiery spirit, and I would not seek to extinguish it. But you must save it for me, and hide it from the women. Unless you consider death preferable to being my slave.” He smiled slightly. He resisted an urge to kiss her.

 

As they entered the village, Kathryn was surprised how much like a white settlement it looked. Nearly all the structures were of wood, some quite large. The main difference that she noticed was that the logs constructing the buildings were arranged vertically, like a stockade, rather than horizontally. The center of the village was dominated by a very large seven-sided structure on top of a mound.

 

“That is the council house,” Chakotay said, pointing to the large building that had caught Kathryn’s eye. “That is where the women’s council will meet tonight. But first we will have something to eat. On the way to my cabin I must stop by and tell my mother we were successful in bringing back a captive. Just stay quiet unless you are addressed.”

 

He led on, her presence creating some notice from others, but no real stir. They stopped at one of the larger cabins, a two-story one, and Chakotay knocked on the door. An older woman with graying hair opened it. They greeted one another in Cherokee, and she gave Kathryn the once-over. She must be his mother. Kathryn chafed at having to appear to be submissive, but she was mindful of what Chakotay had told her, so she stared at the ground and remained silent.

 

They soon moved on to a smaller cabin, a single story, but still bigger than Kathryn’s own cabin. There was one large room, part of which served as the kitchen, and a separate bedroom. The interior was comfortably furnished, and Kathryn was surprised to see it even included a wood stove. Clearly these Indians lived much more like their white neighbors than like their distant cousins out West, whom the newspapers were always printing colorful stories about. This spacious home was a far cry from a tipi. But then, she knew the Cherokee were farmers like herself, not nomadic hunter-gatherers like many of the Western tribes. Of course they would have nicer homes, since they didn’t pick up and move all the time.

 

“If you will promise not to stab me in the back at the first opportunity, I will untie you until we go to the council meeting,” Chakotay said. Kathryn nodded, and he removed the rope. He took her wrists in his hands and massaged them until she jerked them away.

 

“I can take care of myself,” she said frostily.

 

“Of that I have no doubt,” he replied with a laugh. “Here, pay attention to what I am doing. When you are my slave, you will be cooking for me.” He set about preparing some food for them, and soon he offered her some dried meat and a corn meal mush sweetened with fruit. It wasn’t bad, not terribly different from what she often ate.

 

Shortly after they finished, there was call from outside.

 

“We must go to the council house now,” Chakotay stated. She thought she detected a hint of worry in his manner. He seemed lost in thought as he tied her hands behind her back; no witty repartee, no jokes. His concern fed her fear.

 

“You are afraid they will want me dead,” she accused.

 

He looked up at her, startled from his reverie. “Yes. It is possible.” He looked at her with profound sadness for an instant. “But I will do my best to make sure that does not happen. Maybe I had better do this while I have the chance.” He took her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers and began to kiss her tentatively.

 

Kathryn was momentarily touched by his obvious concern, but then livid that he had put her into this situation in the first place. She pulled and twisted from his grasp. “You son of a bitch! You bring me here to face death and now you want a kiss from me! You go to hell!”

 

He smiled. “Alright, Wildcat, no kisses until you are spared death.” Then he turned serious. “But I beg of you…do not let them see your temper and your insolence. And do not be surprised when I treat you harshly.”

 

“Why would you do that?” she asked, since he had been relatively nice to her so far.

 

He paused for a moment. “Because it is expected. It is the way things are.” He was not ready to tell her the more important reason. Assuming he was successful in sparing her life, she would become “Atsi Nahsa’I,” a captive with no affiliation with any clan, and as such, not even considered to be human. But if she continued to enthrall him as much as she did now, he would want to bring her into his clan – by marrying her. He did not dare to let his mother see his infatuation with Kathryn and realize he had such designs. In her long life, she had seen her people suffer much at the hands of the whites, and he feared that she would reject such a union summarily. It might even prejudice her to vote for Kathryn’s death. Once Kathryn was safe – the decision, once made, could not be changed – then his mother could get to know her, and perhaps come to like her, before he revealed his intentions.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Kathryn glanced quickly around the inside of the council house before casting her gaze downward. It was dimly lit, but she could see many women seated around the perimeter. Chakotay jabbed her forward, moving her to the center of the room.

 

“On your knees, captive!” he barked harshly, pushing so hard on her shoulder that she nearly fell, not having use of her arms to keep her balance. Inwardly she raged at having to capitulate like this, but she had no wish to die.

 

A long discussion in Cherokee ensued. Chakotay was by turns angry and respectful. Kathryn guessed that the anger was pure acting, railing about what the whites had taken from him – the wife he didn’t give a damn about. The more respectful tone was no doubt when he was prevailing upon the women to vote as he wanted. After one exchange there was laughter; she could not hazard a guess what that was about.

 

After about fifteen minutes, the discussion ended, and one by one, each woman said a single word. This must be the vote. Most of them seemed to be saying the same word, but a few said a different one. A clear majority – but for what verdict? Her heart pounded; sweat began to trickle down her neck. Finally the voting stopped, there was one last exchange between Chakotay and one of the women – probably his mother, the head of the council – and then he jerked Kathryn up and pushed her from the room.

 

As soon as they were outside, Kathryn turned to him, her eyes seeking to learn her fate.

 

On Chakotay’s face was a smile of triumph. “They chose enslavement, Wildcat. You will live. You belong to me.”

 

Kathryn’s thoughts churned. She would live – but now what? They would return to Chakotay’s cabin and he would undoubtedly rape her – tonight, and whenever he wanted. She could not let that happen, but how could she prevent it? A part of her – a very specific part, centered between her legs – thrilled to the thought of joining intimately with him. But she could not be led by her basest desires.

 

Chakotay’s thoughts were also chaotic. He would like nothing better than to take this stunning creature directly to his bed, tear all of her clothes off of her, and ravish her until dawn. But, for once in his life, he was taking the longer view. He was accustomed to brief, meaningless liaisons with pliant young women, both before and during his marriage. Only luck and the will of the spirits – and his position of some power within the village – had kept him from being murdered by some angry husband, father, or brother.

 

But this exquisite woman – she could be his match. She made him think of love, not just sex. He had to woo her, to win her over. If he wielded his power as her master to dominate her, to take her by force, she would never love him. No, he must bide his time.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

They entered Chakotay’s cabin, and he untied her hands. Kathryn braced for his advances. She watched him, tense and wary, as he opened a wooden trunk and began looking through its contents. He pulled out a simple linen sleeping shift and held it out to her. “You are very tired from your stressful day. You can sleep in this; it will be more comfortable than what you are wearing.”

 

She took it from him guardedly. She glanced into the bedroom, where a large rustic bed stood. “Where do I sleep?” she inquired charily.

 

“In the bed,” he replied, in a tone conveying “where else would one sleep?”

 

“And where do you sleep?” She already knew the answer.

 

He looked at her with some amusement. “It is a large bed. There is room for two.” He was only partly successful in repressing his smile.

 

“Forget it. I refuse to sleep in the same bed with you,” she declared emphatically.

 

“As you wish,” he shrugged. He expected as much. “You are welcome to sleep on the floor. Most slaves do.” He pulled a blanket from the trunk and handed it to her. She took her things and disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door.

 

She let out a big sigh as she closed the door behind her. She felt great relief – but no small measure of disappointment. He was apparently going to leave her alone, at least tonight. It was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

 

Chakotay gave her a few minutes of privacy, then entered the small room. Kathryn was curled up in the blanket, lying on the floor next to the bed. “I hope you sleep well, dear Kathryn. But please do not dream of escape. I will not tie you, but I am a very light sleeper. I will know when you are up. The night watchmen of the village know you are here and will be keeping a careful watch on my cabin. The penalty for attempted escape is death.”

 

He walked to the other side of the bed, and in the dim moonlight coming through the window, looking under the bed to the other side, Kathryn could see his trousers as he dropped them to the floor. He picked them up and hung them on a hook, then climbed into the bed. Oh god, she thought, he sleeps nude.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Very little sleep came to Kathryn that night, and in the morning she was sore and groggy. Anxiety about her captive status and intrusive thoughts about joining the handsome Indian in his bed, along with the discomfort of the hard floor, had kept her up most of the night. Chakotay had fared somewhat better, but in truth his slumber too had been disturbed by visions of dragging Kathryn off the floor and throwing her into the bed, and having his way with her.

 

She feigned sleep until he arose, dressed, and left the room. Then she got up and dressed as well, and joined him in the front room. He was starting a fire in the wood stove. He looked up as she entered the room, and surveyed her disheveled appearance.

 

“Good morning, dear Kathryn! Did you sleep well?” he grinned; it was quite obvious she hadn’t.

 

She glared at him. “If you are always this cheerful in the morning, you might as well shoot me now,” she griped. “I won’t survive it.” She yawned and stretched.

 

His grin deepened. “I am always this cheerful, period. I am a very easy-going fellow, and that is why you will enjoy life with me.”

 

She glowered at him. “I will never enjoy life with you. I will be a constant thorn in your side. You might as well let me go now and save yourself the trouble.” Her weariness gave her voice a gravelly quality that Chakotay found very alluring. He thought how much he would like to hear that voice in his bed.

 

“Well, I have a magic potion that brings the dead back to life every morning. Perhaps it will improve your disposition.” He put some water on the stove to boil, and pulled a tin off the shelf. “Do you like coffee?”

 

“Coffee?” Her eyes lit up, and damned if she wasn’t smiling for the first time since he’d abducted her. “You have coffee? I didn’t know Indians drank coffee.”

 

He marveled at her reaction. “I’ll take that as a yes. Is that the key to your heart, then? If that is what it takes to make you happy, then I will give you enough coffee to bathe in.”

 

Her smile faded and her face became neutral. “Releasing me is what would make me happy.”

 

He looked her in the eye. “Would it? Really?” he challenged. “You were happy in your little house in the woods with the husband you never talk about, and probably do not love?”

 

She got her back up. “I was happy being free,” she snapped.

 

“I suppose you will have to remain unhappy, then,” he said, and shrugged. “But I will trade you coffee each morning for the smile I just saw.”

 

“We’ll see,” she replied, with just a hint of amusement. She changed the subject. “I’ve been wondering. Where did you become so fluent in English? And how did you get to know so much about European culture?” She thought about his comment about the arranged marriages of European royalty.

 

“My people enjoy being educated,” he answered. “Just as wealthy whites send their children to school in France and England, Cherokees who are well off might send their children to schools run by whites. Of course, the smart parents do not let the schools have their children for too long, since the whites try to “educate” the Indian out of us. But since it seems we cannot get rid of you whites, it is better for us to learn what we can about you.”

 

As he explained this to her, in the back of his mind he realized who it was that she reminded him of. It was a teacher at the school he had attended – a teacher from whom he had learned much more than reading, writing, and arithmetic. She vaguely resembled her, and had the same sort of spark, the same indefinable compelling quality. Hmmm. That certainly went a long way toward explaining the strong attraction he felt for her.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Chakotay spent a good part of the day acclimating Kathryn to her new life, showing her how the Cherokee kept house, teaching her simple words in his language, and so on. For part of the day, he turned her over to some of his female relatives, for whom she performed menial tasks such as hauling water. In return, they instructed her in cooking. Some of them spoke English, which was a great help. There was much more to come: farming, sewing, handicrafts – the women all wore beautiful necklaces made from beads, shells, and turkey bones – and countless other lessons. She didn’t know how she would absorb all of this information.

 

Several of the women treated her with clear disdain, which one of the kinder ones explained was due to her slave status more than the color of her skin. Whatever the reason, it irked the proud Kathryn, but she resolved to simply keep doing her job and ignore them. At least she wasn’t being abused.

 

Chakotay continued to keep his hands off of her, which had her confused. He seemed like a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, and she was sure he wanted her. She saw the hungry glances he gave her. What was his game? What was he waiting for? It was unnerving her.

 

That night at bedtime, she was too exhausted to face another sleepless night on the floor. Chakotay walked into the bedroom, pleased and surprised to find her in the bed, though it was clear her attitude had not changed. She had rolled up the blanket she had used the previous night and placed it in the center of the bed to serve as a bundling board, and she was lying with her back to his side of the bed. Well, one step at a time. He stripped and quickly got under the bed covers. No need for her to see the hard-on that was rapidly developing in response to her presence in his bed.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

And so it went for a while. The two of them engaged in clever repartee, with Kathryn always rebuffing Chakotay’s gentle overtures. But he caught her surveying him with rapt concentration occasionally, a ravenous look in her eye. His need for her was growing each day; sometimes he had to go off to cool himself off in the water of the creek that ran alongside their village. He struggled with when to make his move. Although he was fairly sure of her interest, he wanted a clear sign, one that she would find difficult to deny.

 

Kathryn sometimes woke before Chakotay in the mornings, and she would take the opportunity to study his glorious bronze body without him knowing it. The covers were usually down to his waist, so it gave her a lovely view of his broad, muscular chest. She had insane thoughts of leaning over and licking his little nipples, smiling to herself when she pictured what his reaction would be. No doubt he would wake up with a blazing hard-on and impale her on the spot. That thought sent a tingle through her intimate area.

 

Then one morning, about two weeks after she had arrived, she hit the jackpot. It had been a very warm night, and when Kathryn awoke, she saw that Chakotay had kicked his covers completely off – and had a morning erection to boot. Oh, my. She propped herself up on her elbow to get a better look, moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. He was impressive! Perhaps not so long as Jeffrey, but definitely thicker, and seemingly growing by the second. She swallowed hard, and licked her lips. That silky skin, just waiting for her touch… She sighed in frustration and lay back down. This is NOT what you want, Kathryn, she tried to tell herself.

 

It took willpower Chakotay didn’t know he had to keep from taking her that very instant. Her attention had been so riveted on his equipment that she failed to notice that he had slightly opened his eyes, just enough to watch her watching him. Seeing her hungry gaze locked onto him like a hawk eyeing a mouse had made him so hard it hurt. But somehow it just wasn’t the right time…he closed his eyes and thought unpleasant thoughts to regain his control.

 

But as the day went on, his mind kept returning to the morning, and the look of pure lust on her face. He made two trips to the creek to chill his ardor, then finally gave up and went off into the woods to take matters in hand. This could not go on much longer, or it would kill him!

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

That evening, Chakotay decided to try a new tactic. After dinner, as Kathryn was cleaning up in the kitchen area, he walked up close behind her, invading her personal space.

 

“The suspense is almost more than you can bear, isn’t it?” he murmured. He was standing so close to her that she could feel his warm breath making the hair next to her ear quiver.

 

“What suspense?” Kathryn replied curtly, stiffening, certain that she would feel his hands on her at any moment.

 

“Wondering when I will take you for the first time,” he breathed. He paused, letting the words sink in. “Wondering what it will be like. What kind of lover will I be? Will I take you roughly, like a rutting animal? Or will I be tender and gentle, worshipping your body? Will you feel pleasure? Or will you feel nothing?”

 

Kathryn’s breathing quickened, and she stared at the wall in front of her. This was a different side of him. A more dangerous side. An even more alluring side.

 

“You are terrified and repulsed,” he continued, still standing so close that she could feel him in a visceral way, even though he had yet to touch her. “But you are also intrigued and attracted. You find that my raw sexuality tempts you in a way you never expected — “

 

“You’re delusional!” she retorted, interrupting him. “I don’t – ”

 

He cut her off sharply. “I am not imagining it. I have seen the way you look at me when you think I am not watching. Your eyes flow over my body like water. You showed such a hunger looking at my waking erection this morning that it took all my willpower not to offer it to you for breakfast.”

 

Kathryn’s face flushed red with embarrassment. He had caught her at her most lustful! At that moment, if she could have commanded it, she would have ordered the earth to open and swallow her up.

 

“Do not worry, dear Kathryn, my wildcat. I will not take you until you are ready.” He placed a strong hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. His face was only inches from hers; she recoiled and tried to move away but she was backed against the wood stove. “But I will be the one who determines when you are ready,” he whispered in a low seductive voice. “I will know.”

 

He let go of her, and turned and walked to the door. “I will be back after dark,” he said, then left. Think that over for a while, dear Kathryn, he thought to himself.

 

Kathryn stood at the wood stove for a long time, trembling. How could she continue resisting this man who could set her whole body afire just with his sonorous voice? She needed some relief. She put away the last of the dinner things, then went into the bedroom, changed into her shift, and crawled under the covers.

 

Outside, Chakotay had meant to go off into the woods to think while he let Kathryn stew in the words he had just said to her. But his curiosity got the better of him; he wanted to see her reaction. He positioned himself so that he could observe her through the open window without her seeing him. He watched her gathering her thoughts as she stood by the stove, pleased to see that she had obviously been powerfully affected. He was intrigued when she went into the bedroom. It was quite early for bed. As it was mid-summer and the days were long, it was not even dark yet.

 

He went around to the bedroom window, but it was placed high on the wall for privacy, and he could not see in. However, he could hear the material rustling as she changed, and the sound of the bed creaking as she got into it. Well, it wouldn’t be very interesting listening to Kathryn sleep. But just as he started to creep away, he heard a whimper, then a sigh. Then a faint whisper… “ooohhh, Chakotay…” Spirits! This could be the clear sign of desire he had been waiting for!

 

Stealthily, he entered the cabin, and silently crept to the bedroom door, which had been left just slightly ajar – just enough for him to watch her. And what a sight it was! Kathryn lay on the bed, her head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth opened to a sensuous “O”, panting. The covers were drawn up to just above her waist.

 

With one hand, she was caressing her breasts, pinching the nipples – the thin material displayed how erect they were. The other hand was hidden from view beneath the covers, but he could follow its progress from the movement of the blanket above it. Her legs were spread wide, and her hand was at their juncture, moving rapidly, but in a small area. It was clear – very, very clear – that she was seeking physical release.

 

The effect on him could not have been more potent if her hand had been moving over his own swelling flesh. He was torn between interrupting her now and plunging himself into that primed body, or waiting until the explosive conclusion. He had never watched a woman do this, and he would probably never have the chance again, so painfully he waited.

 

After several more minutes of the exquisite torture, Kathryn’s breathing accelerated, her movements became more chaotic, and she bit her lip, trying to swallow the sounds of her rapture. Finally she shook all over, then stilled. Chakotay took a moment to calm his own breathing, then pushed at the door. It opened with a creak. Kathryn’s eyes flew open and grew huge with horror; she gasped and went rigid with shock.

 

He stood in the doorway, scorching her with an incendiary stare. “Now tell me I am delusional.”

 

She was momentarily frozen, too stunned to acknowledge his statement. He had witnessed the most personal act possible! She wished lightning would strike her dead on the spot.

 

He moved to the foot of the bed and repeated it, his tone passionate, almost angry. “Now tell me I am delusional, that you do not want me, now that I have heard you call my name as you try to extinguish the fire I started in you. The fire that should have been mine to put out.”

 

He moved to the side of the bed, grasped the blanket, and ripped it from her body. She frantically reached to cover herself, pulling her shift down. He knelt one knee on the bed beside her, and seizing her hands, pulled the one that had touched her most intimately to his nose. He inhaled deeply as a look of bliss crossed his face. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? Your scent drives me insane. Everything about you drives me insane.”

 

He climbed the rest of the way onto the bed, straddling her and pinning her wrists to the mattress. “I have been steeping in your beauty for nearly two weeks now. The essence of you surrounds me, washes over me, penetrates every inch of my body. You have no idea how completely you own me. In self defense, I must possess you in the only way I know how. I know you want me – why will you not admit it?”

 

“I won’t admit it because it isn’t true,” she hissed. She could not bring herself to submit to him, to acknowledge the truth. “I am a married woman. I belong to another. I will never lay with you by choice.”

 

He released her wrists and sat back on his haunches, still pinning her legs beneath him. He regarded her intently, pondering something, while she silently glared at him.

 

“You are lying and I will prove it with a test. I will bring you to climax, but I will not enter you. If I am not successful, I will go no further. But if I am – then I will claim my prize as it is meant to be claimed.”

 

“No!” She struggled fruitlessly to free herself. “Leave me alone!”

 

“It is a more than fair test,” he asserted. “Surely you will agree that a woman cannot be made to climax against her will. And since you have just given yourself release, I have set myself a difficult task. But one I am sure I can complete.”

 

She stared at him, giving him nothing in her expression. Difficult my eye, thought Kathryn. Just feeling his heated gaze on her was almost enough to set her off again. Her heart raced, thinking of what he would do to her. She couldn’t make it easy for him. She pushed herself up and tried to dislodge him from her legs.

 

He forced her down again, pinning her hands. “Now, we have to make it fair. If you are going to hinder my efforts, I will have to do something about it.” He reached into a bag hanging from a hook next to the bed, and pulled out two long leather straps, about one-half inch wide. They were ordinarily braided into hair for decoration, but he had another use in mind.

 

Securing one of her hands under his knee, he tied her other wrist to the head of the bed, then tied the one he had trapped. She pulled at the restraints and cursed him, but he only smiled. “Now it is a fair fight. I can work without interference.” He moved down her body and pushed the shift up to her waist, revealing the battlefield where this skirmish would be waged.

 

Fair fight, hell. Once she felt his hands on her sex she would probably launch right off the bed, restraints or not. But she didn’t feel his hands on her sex. No, it was…oh god, it was his mouth, his lips, his tongue…licking her, kissing her, nipping the inside of her thighs, finding her hidden bud and sucking it… Her head thrashed wildly back and forth; she writhed as if to escape his grasp but his powerful hands held her firmly in place. More quickly than she ever would have thought possible, her body shattered in a million pieces under his mouth. She pulsed with aftershocks. This orgasm made the self-induced one seem like a sneeze. By the powers, how long had it been since she had had release by other than her own hand?

 

He rose up again on his knees and looked into her face. Still she would not reflect the feelings he was sure she had for him. “Even now, do you deny it?” he said, exasperated, shaking his head. “You are a stubborn woman. No matter. I have earned my prize, and now I will take it.”

 

He moved off the bed and removed his trousers. His rock-hard cock ached from being denied its goal for so long; he knew he would not last to give her a third release. He climbed between her legs, pushing her thighs apart. She was so wet and slippery, so ready for him.

 

“Can I free your hands without feeling your wrath?” he asked her, his eyebrow cocked. She pursed her lips and nodded. He untied her, and as soon as both hands were free, she threw herself at him, trying to push him away.

 

“Damn it, woman! What am I going to do about you?” he cursed, forcing her down once again, pinning her wrists on either side of her head. “You cannot stop me. I cannot even stop myself, or it will kill me.”

 

At that, he drove his hard length into her, full to the hilt, groaning heavily. “Spirits, you feel like paradise,” he moaned, thrusting slowly in and out of her, trying to make himself last. He closed his eyes, regretting his lack of patience, regretting that he was forcing her, thereby undoubtedly sabotaging his efforts to win her. Had he really misjudged her desires so badly?

 

Then he looked down into her face as his pace quickened, becoming wilder. It was not the face of a woman being raped. It was the face of a woman at the height of erotic ecstasy; eyes closed, mouth open, an expression of fervent passion, with moans and whimpers to match. She was meeting his thrusts, writhing beneath him not as if to escape, but for sexual stimulation. Realization blew over him like a cold wind. She wanted him to take her this way! But why? Why did she need to pretend?

 

It was not the time to puzzle out such a mystery. The awareness that she was deriving as much pleasure from their joining as he was inflamed his passion further. If rough was what she liked, rough was what she would get. With frenzied thrusts he invaded her again and again. He could feel her inner muscles twitching, gripping him erratically.

 

“Ah, my greedy wildcat, you seek yet another release?” he said almost harshly, his breathing labored from exertion. “From this delusional man who dares to think you want him? If you want it, it must be now…” he groaned. In answer she wrapped her legs around his waist, driving him even deeper into her. A few more thrusts, and her twitching muscles escalated into continuous rolling waves that washed away the last of his control, and he exploded into her.

 

He collapsed in a heap beside her, panting hard. He thought it was probably the most intense orgasm he had ever had. “Wildcat, you will be the death of me,” he said breathlessly. She rolled onto her side, away from him, and he could not see her self-satisfied smile of satiety. “But it will be a lovely death,” he added, spooning behind her, encircling her waist with his arm. She did not pull away.

 

As they settled down to sleep, he contemplated her strange choice of reaction to his lovemaking. He had bedded many women, but had never encountered such an thing before.

 

No, wait. That was not entirely true. He had had a similar experience with his very first lover – the very woman that Kathryn reminded him of, his teacher from long ago. They had had many encounters, and she had taught him all about the art of love. Being much older and more knowledgeable, she usually took the lead in their lovemaking. But he remembered that on a few occasions, she encouraged him to take her as if by force. The first time, she acted her part so well that he faltered, thinking he was hurting her. She had explained that once in a while, she just wanted someone else to take complete control of her, to relieve her of responsibility to think, to make any choices. Choices…

 

“I am a married woman...I will never lay with you by choice.”  That is what Kathryn had said. By choice. Perhaps she held the marriage bond sacred, like many people did (indeed, as he would if he had chosen his own wife), and would not break it by her choice – but would gladly enjoy the results of him choosing for her. Or maybe she didn’t care about remaining faithful to her husband, and simply wanted to be controlled, as his teacher had. Well, whatever the reason, at least now he could take pleasure in the warmth of her supple body. He would learn the rules as he went along.

 

“I will play the game your way, lover,” he whispered before he drifted off to sleep.

 

Kathryn heard his faint comment as she lay awake, trying to make sense out of what had just happened. A game. Yes, she was playing a dangerous game. Did she have any choice in what he had done to her? No. Yes…maybe. He wasn’t stupid. He had sensed the strong attraction to him that she had tried to suppress. He still had no right, in her view, to take her without her explicit consent, though in his world he was fully within his rights to do with her whatever he pleased.

 

How did she feel about what had happened? Some guilt…but face it, though Chakotay had not taken her at his earliest opportunity, it was doubtful that he would have left her alone forever, regardless of what signals she gave him. She felt more guilt at the realization that it was not just her body he was taking, but her heart and soul as well. She was falling in love with him.

 

And the sex…gods, in all her 10 years with Jeffrey taken together she had not experienced one-tenth of the ecstasy she had just felt in the past half hour. She had heard of pleasure given by mouth, but she had never dreamed of experiencing it herself. Given a choice, she would have refused such a wicked act, but…then she would have missed the most glorious sensation she had ever felt.

 

Now she was suffused with a feeling of bliss, as if she were weightless. How much of it could be attributed to Chakotay’s skill, and how much to the excitement she felt at being taken so forcefully, and in such a wanton manner, she couldn’t say. But she did find it thrilling to be under his masterful control. Yes…she would continue to make him take what he wanted – she would refuse to acknowledge what he had guessed to be true. A game. A delicious, exhilarating game.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Chakotay was surprised and pleased the following morning to awake to Kathryn snuggling against him. He was on his back, and she was nestled alongside him, her arm thrown across his broad chest. He smiled to himself, enjoying the moment of bliss. Had his wildcat turned into a kitten, or would her claws come back out when she awoke? He would not be so naïve to assume that she consciously chose this affectionate posture; for all he knew, she might be dreaming of her husband. But he didn’t think so.

 

Thoughts of the previous night led inevitably to a stirring in his groin. It hardly seemed fair, he had had barely a taste of her, while she had had climax after climax. He had yet to even kiss her, or to touch or even to see her full breasts. Should he remedy that now, or…no. He would wait until after breakfast, and take great pleasure watching her undress for him for the first time. It would also give him time to evaluate the effect last night had had on her.

 

He lifted his head and stretched to kiss her auburn hair, and she stirred. She looked groggily up at him, first a smile appearing on her face, then as her sensibilities returned, she frowned and turned abruptly away from him.

 

Chakotay smiled. The claws were back out. In a perverse way he was glad; he had been mulling over the possibilities of this game they were playing, and it admittedly held some appeal for him. He liked the wildcat; he had no need of another kitten. He had had plenty of those.

 

He got up and dressed, and went into the front room to put coffee on. Several minutes later Kathryn emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed, and she wordlessly set about preparing their breakfast. She did not look at him.

 

“I must say I slept better last night than I have in quite a while,” declared Chakotay, smiling slyly. “And you?”

 

She regarded him with what he supposed was intended to be a look of disdain, but she was unsuccessful in eliminating the smile from her eyes. “I slept well enough, thank you.”

 

Neither of them made any further allusion to the night before as they ate their breakfast. As Kathryn cleared the dishes away and cleaned them, Chakotay remained at the table, following her every move, his mounting desire evident on his face. She could feel his heated gaze on her, and flushed with arousal to think that he might take her again so early in the morning.

 

When she was nearly done, he got up and came to stand behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and she stiffened – she really felt like melting under his touch, but the game dictated that she appear to resist. He gathered up her long reddish-brown locks and moved them to one side to grant access to her soft neck, which he then began to kiss and nip gently.

 

Oohhh, he knew exactly how to play her like as instrument. She tightly pursed her lips to prevent the escape of the gasps and sighs that should have followed. She could feel her slippery moisture preparing her for his intrusion, and her intimate area was swelling with blood.

 

“You did not give me all of the prize I earned last night,” he whispered seductively. “I have not had the pleasure of your kiss.” He turned her to face him, his hands still on her shoulders.

 

“I give you nothing. As long as I am a captive, nothing is mine to give. You will have to take whatever you want from me,” she said defiantly.

 

“And so I shall,” he replied, and he wrapped his hand behind her neck, preventing her from dodging him, and passionately descended on her lips, forcing his tongue inside and giving her the kiss of her life. She was breathless when he broke the kiss.

 

“I want more,” he said ardently. “Much more.” He took a step back from her. “Take off your clothes.”

 

A flash of unadulterated desire crossed her features before she replaced it with insolence. “Go to hell. Do it yourself.”

 

Without a word he walked over to a high shelf, out of Kathryn’s reach, and retrieved his hunting knife. He stepped up to her and carefully touched the tip of it to the top button in the front of her dress, then slid it delicately from button to button, causing no damage but making the threat clear. “If I remove these clothes,” he said quietly, “you will never be able to wear them again.” He pulled back the knife and stepped back.

 

Kathryn reached up and slowly unbuttoned her dress, then pushed it off. Her corset pushed her breasts up and held them tightly together, giving her quite a cleavage, visible with the low cut of her chemise. Chakotay eyed her thoroughly and appreciatively. “You whites wear too many clothes,” he said. “Keep going.”

 

She loosened the laces of the corset and wriggled out of it, pushing it to the floor and stepping out of it. Then she reached under her chemise and untied her knee-length drawers, pulling them down as the long chemise continued to cover her.

 

They were both breathing heavily now. “The rest,” Chakotay rasped, his erection tenting the fabric of his trousers.

 

Kathryn grasped the hem of her chemise and slowly withdrew it to reveal her flawless milky-white skin. Her breasts were full; the nipples hardened into peach-colored buds. The coarse hair of her curly triangle was a cinnamon brown. Chakotay took his time appraising her, and she went quite red from embarrassment and anticipation. He stepped up and trailed his fingers from her neck down to a breast, cupping it, tweaking the nub. She was shaking from arousal.

 

“You are beautiful. And you are mine. All mine,” he growled. He swept her up and carried her to the bedroom, where he threw her onto the bed. As he removed his trousers, she tried to scurry away, but he grabbed her ankle and yanked her back to him. He saw from her drenched folds that further foreplay was unnecessary – so much the better; he had waited a long time for his gratification the previous night, now was the time to be selfish.

 

She was on her back, and he kneeled and pulled her legs up so that her ankles rested on his shoulders. Her eyes widened – this was something she had never tried. Chakotay regarded her with a lustful smirk, and with a powerful stroke he penetrated her. This position was ideal for his little wildcat – it allowed him to bury himself to her very depths, while limiting her attacks. She could not reach him to push him away, and he held tightly to her legs as he pounded avidly into her. In minutes she was panting heavily, her chest heaving, her arms flailing and her hands clawing at the bed covers. She was climbing toward her release, but Chakotay was already there, and today he would not wait for her. Another deep thrust, and he let go with a roar. He disengaged her legs, and dropped like a rock at her side.

 

Kathryn huffed with frustration and grit her teeth. He had wound her like a spring and left her tightly coiled – the nerve of that bastard! Chakotay grinned at her with amusement as he lay heavy with relaxation. “I am sorry, my wildcat, is there something I have forgotten?”

 

She gave him no answer but a glare.

 

“Don’t worry, my love, you will get yours,” he said with a sexy smile.

 

Love? Did he just call her his love? Did he mean it, she wondered. “I don’t need anything from you,” she retorted. Like hell I don’t.

 

After a few minutes, Chakotay propped himself up beside her and started to run a large strong hand all over her. “Your turn,” he said simply.

 

“I don’t need a turn,” she snapped, pushing his hand away. “And keep your hands to yourself.”

 

“Oh, I am sorry, I forgot the rules of this game,” he laughed. He seized both of her wrists and forced her arms above her head, where he tightly held them together against the mattress with one of his powerful hands. He liked the way it pulled her breasts higher. He hadn’t tasted those beautiful mounds of flesh yet. She was much better endowed than the Cherokee women that usually warmed his bed. He leaned over and took one into his mouth, gently nipping the erect nub with his teeth. Kathryn gasped and surged toward his mouth. With his free hand, he fondled the other breast. She squirmed and moaned from the intense stimulation.

 

Her legs were thrashing too wildly for his tastes, so he threw one of his legs over both of hers, careful to trap them so that the area of greatest interest was open and accessible to him. He slowly moved his hand from her breast, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps down her hypersensitive torso. As he approached the juncture between her legs, he slowed even more, to an agonizing pace that had her biting her lip to keep from begging him to get on with it.

 

Finally his fingers slid into the copious moisture and explored her private place in exquisite detail. When he found the spot that provoked the strongest gasp and sharpest squirm, he went after his prey in earnest, massaging in tiny circles. Her entire body, from outstretched arms to trapped legs, struggled against him, feeding the tension building to her peak. At last she screamed out, and her body shuddered, then stilled.

 

Chakotay pulled her to him, tucking her against his body, resting her head on his shoulder, her arm across his chest. She let him arrange her in this way, and they shared a peaceful interlude wrapped together. So this was how it was to be, he thought. Last night she had permitted him to lay quietly with her like this. She would resist sex, then, having been successfully conquered, would let him enjoy the fruits of his labor. He stroked her hair affectionately, and thought about how happy he could have been all these years if he had felt toward Moon Shadow what he felt for this woman. The wildcat had stolen his heart.

 

He found himself thinking again of Mrs. Duffy – he was allowed to call her Laura in private – the teacher who had taught him so much. He could have felt this way about her, if the time and place had been different.

 

“Do you wonder why I found myself so drawn to you?” he murmured into Kathryn’s ear. “Your incredible beauty, of course, and your spirited personality. But it is also because you resemble the woman who taught me almost everything I know about the art of lovemaking,” he confided.

 

Kathryn lifted her head and arched an eyebrow. “A white woman?”

 

“Yes. She was a teacher at the school I was sent to. A vibrant woman. She had been widowed for several years, but she showed no interest in finding another husband. She enjoyed her freedom, and because she had a suitable job, she could keep her freedom. She liked not having to answer to any man. And…” he smiled mischievously, “she liked teaching young men what they needed to know about women. Especially virile young Cherokee braves.”

 

“That’s reprehensible, to take advantage of young boys in that way!” Kathryn snapped sanctimoniously.

 

“I did not think so. I was about 15 winters. That is old enough to learn about physical pleasures. She was about twice that age. Better she should teach me, than I should fumble around with a girl my own age who knew no more than I, and who would confuse the learning experience with romance and commitment.” He smiled a deep, full-dimpled smile. “You should be glad. You are the beneficiary of her lessons. Imagine the satisfaction you could have been experiencing all these years if your husband had been her pupil as well.”

 

Kathryn blushed deeply. Of course, Chakotay could only guess what had gone on between Kathryn and her husband, but according to Laura, the typical white man was relatively inhibited about his body and his sexuality. That was one of the reasons she enjoyed the company of Indians, who had no shame about their bodies.

 

“You share her hair color, and eye color. You share the same inner spark. But your spark smolders deep inside; you try to hide it from the outside world. Her spark — hers flashed into a brilliant flame whenever she got the chance. And she got many chances.” Chakotay gently nibbled on her ear, sending erotic chills up her spine. “I am going to ignite your spark into flame, and cast myself into your fire.”

 

And with that, he rolled her over and set her afire.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Outwardly, things between them did not change a great deal. However, he did notice little changes. She still exchanged sharp repartee with him, but she smiled more. In fact, occasionally when she did not realize he was looking, he caught her with an enormous self-satisfied smile on her face. Could it be that she was actually happy with him? There were little things that she did to please him – not that she would admit to it if asked – like make him foods she knew he especially liked.

 

A few days after they began their intimate relationship, Chakotay and several other braves went on a deer hunt and were gone the entire day, finally returning with two carcasses when it was nearly dark. Kathryn watched as a team of women made quick work of skinning the animals and taking out the meat. She and Jeffrey had done this many times. But tomorrow she would learn new things. The Cherokee used every part of the deer for something, so there would be many tasks to master.

 

Afterward, she prepared Chakotay a late supper. He was exhausted from the long tiring day. As he finished eating, he rolled his head and stretched, trying to bring relief to muscles sore from spending hours remaining perfectly still in the brush, then carrying the heavy carcasses back to the village. Mutely Kathryn stood and walked behind him, and began to massage his neck and shoulders. Chakotay was touched by the affectionate gesture. After several minutes of her ministrations he put his hand over hers and looked up at her, smiling warmly.

 

“It is nice to have you to come home to,” he said quietly, knowing he risked ruining the mood by inviting an acid-tongued retort. But she said nothing, merely gave him the merest hint of a smile, before she moved away and began clearing the table.

 

The truth was, it was nice having him come home to her. Despite her captive status, her guilt, and her licentious behavior, she was feeling more and more like she was home. Chakotay was like no man she had ever known, and she was completely under his spell. She had really missed him while he was out hunting.

 

That night there was no game, no sex, just a man and a woman sleeping quietly in each other’s arms.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

Kathryn continued to learn the ways of the Cherokee and adapt to a new life, missing the old one less and less. She and Chakotay kept up their strange game, exploring the limits of their perverse sexuality. Her favorite encounter so far was the night he made her get on her knees, face the head of the bed, and grasp the head rail of the bed frame. He tied her hands there, then aggressively took her from behind as if she were a bitch in heat. The intensity of the orgasm she’d experienced had left her like a quivering mass of jelly for a long time afterward.

 

A few evenings later, after dinner, Chakotay eyed her with a particular hunger. “Have you ever pleasured a man with your mouth?” he asked, almost offhandedly.

 

Her eyes grew large. “What do you mean?” she asked, knowing full well what he meant.

 

“Using my lips, my tongue, my teeth, I have caressed your most intimate areas, brought you ecstasy beyond your imagining. You will do the same for me,” he replied with lustful glint in his eyes, leaning toward her across the table.

 

“Forget it,” she snapped. “I don’t know how, and I won’t do such a disgusting thing!” She glared at him, but he thought he detected the expression that he had come to learn meant “I want to do this as much as you do, but I’ll never admit to it.”

 

How far could he push her? What were the limits of this cat and mouse game? What was the extent of her sexual appetite?

 

“I will teach you. Remember, what is important is that you please me. If you do not wish to please me, perhaps I will no longer need you for myself. I could sell your services to all who are willing to meet my price. You could make me a very rich man. Many braves in this village would leap at the chance to partake of your white flesh.” He immediately regretted his cruel intimidation when he saw the panic in her eyes. This was beyond the boundaries of the game. He had found a point beyond which she would not willingly go, and he was relieved, because how could he desire a woman who would enjoy being prostituted?

 

He reached out and cupped her cheek. “I am sorry. That was an empty threat. I will never share you. You belong only to me.”

 

She quickly regained her equilibrium. She knew he enjoyed riling her with irreverent jokes; didn’t she trust him by now not to exceed the limits of their game? But…maybe he did was not sure of the limits. “Promise me. Promise me I belong only to you,” she said softly.

 

“I promise,” he replied with a gentle smile.

 

A quiet moment passed, and then Kathryn abruptly arose from the table and fetched a basin of water, soap, and a washcloth.

 

“Well, master, if you are going to force me to do such a despicable thing, you had better thoroughly clean yourself first,” she said sharply.

 

He grinned, dimples at the ready. “That is part of your job, slave.”

 

She harrumphed, but knelt on the floor next to his chair. He turned the chair toward her. She untied his trousers and pulled them down as he lifted slightly. His member was already standing tall, eager to feel her touch. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, though in truth she was fascinated by his penis and enthusiastic to learn this new skill, to taste him as he had tasted her. She carefully began washing the silky extremity, causing Chakotay to groan deeply.

 

She gave him a sly smirk. “What makes you think I won’t bite it off?” she asked in the gravelly voice that drove Chakotay wild.

 

He laughed heartily. “Because, my wildcat,” he said, leaning down into her face, “you would miss him too much!” And so the lesson commenced…

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

After Kathryn had been in the village for nearly three weeks, Chakotay’s father, Silent Eagle, returned. The chief had been on a sojourn to visit several other Cherokee villages and hold council with their chiefs. Kathryn saw him for the first time as she was walking through the village on an errand. She guessed from the showiness of his adornments that he was the chief, a simple conjecture since she knew he was due to return. She passed about 50 feet from him, and she saw him look at her with great interest. He then exchanged words with someone next to him, who also looked at her; he must have been asking who she was.

 

Late that afternoon, as Kathryn was starting to prepare the evening meal, and Chakotay was cleaning his rifle, there was a knock at the door. Chakotay called “Enter,” and his father came into the room. Father and son greeted one another in Cherokee, and they both sat at the table. As had been the case with nearly everyone she had met thus far except his closest friends, Chakotay did not bother to make a formal introduction. As a slave, she could no more expect such a courtesy than a pet dog would.

 

Silent Eagle was an imposing man. About the same height as Chakotay, he was a little heavier, and had a noble air about him. He projected authority and confidence. It was clear where the son had gotten his good looks; except for graying hair and his lined face, the father closely resembled him. Undoubtedly they also had similar tastes in women. From the time the chief entered the room, Kathryn felt his intense gaze on her.

 

“Woman, bring us some persimmon beer,” Chakotay ordered, adopting the condescending tone he tended to use with her when others – especially tribal elders – were around. Facing away from them, Kathryn rolled her eyes with annoyance and poured two mugs of the pungent non-alcoholic drink.

 

As she set the mugs in front of the two men, Silent Eagle gave her a very thorough appraisal from head to toe, as if he were mentally undressing her. It made her quite uncomfortable, and she quickly withdrew from the table. A brief glance at Chakotay’s face revealed that he was also disconcerted.

 

Kathryn was taken aback when Silent Eagle addressed her directly, in English. The elders seldom did except to give her orders.

 

“My son has done very well for himself, to have found such a beautiful and compelling captive. Such a woman as you must surely ease my son’s mourning for his wife,” he said softly, giving an ironic tone to the latter words. Plainly, he was well aware that Chakotay had rejoiced more than mourned.

 

Kathryn felt very ill at ease and did not know how to respond to his flattery. “Thank you,” she mumbled, then glancing at them both, she said “If you will excuse me, I must fetch some water.” Chakotay nodded, and she grabbed the buckets and hurried from the cabin.

 

After returning from the creek, she waited near the cabin until she saw Silent Eagle leave. She sighed with relief, and entered the cabin. Her relief was short-lived, however, when she found Chakotay still sitting at the table, head in hands. Seeing him like this, combined with the disquiet that Silent Eagle had caused her, she felt a growing apprehension. She put down the water buckets.

 

“What’s wrong?” Chakotay looked up at her, and his expression was almost bereft. She had never seen him look so melancholy. Her apprehension was giving way to alarm. “What’s the matter?”

 

Chakotay rubbed his head, clearly struggling with how to answer her question. Finally he looked at her with a sad, serious look, and said with obvious pain, “My father wants to lay with you.”

 

Kathryn’s heart began to thud and she shook her head. “You told him no, didn’t you?” Chakotay looked at the floor. “Didn’t you?” she cried, her voice rising. “You promised, Chakotay! Just yesterday you promised I belonged only to you, that you would not share me!”

 

He gestured uselessly in the air. “It is not that simple, Kathryn. I did not tell him yes or no. He is the chief; he did not ask me – he stated his intent. I never considered that he might want this. I have never known him to lay with anyone but my mother.”

 

He looked up at her, and she could see the anguish in his face. “It is easy to refuse the others – and I have refused them. Do you know that half the braves in this village have sought your favors from me?” Kathryn shuddered at the thought. “I told them all no! But it is not so easy to refuse the chief. My father, I could tell no, but it is our custom that the chief may enjoy the services of any slave he desires.” His voice dropped off to a whisper. “And he desires you.”

 

Kathryn felt nauseated. “But…everyone speaks of him as if he is an honorable man. Why would he be unfaithful to his wife?”

 

“Laying with a slave is not considered to be a violation of the marriage vow. My mother would not like it, but he would probably try to be discreet so that she would not know.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, perhaps this is more his habit than even I know.”

 

She fell to her knees in front of Chakotay and implored him, “Please don’t make me do this. I want only you! I…I love you, Chakotay!”

 

He looked at her, stunned. He hoped he would hear those words from her someday, but never dreamed it would be this soon.

 

“You do? Truly?” She nodded. He took her hands and pulled her up, and stood up with her.

 

“I have loved you since the moment I saw you,” he said softly, and kissed her passionately and thoroughly. She wrapped her arms around him, finally kissing him freely and completely, holding back nothing.

 

When they broke the kiss, he looked at her ardently and stroked her cheek with his hand. “There is a way,” he said optimistically.

 

“There is?” she asked.

 

“Yes. It simply requires moving more quickly with a plan that I hoped to carry out later anyway.” Kathryn’s expression asked for his explanation. He tightened his hold around her. “The chief may expect to lay with my slave, but he would never expect to lay with my betrothed.”

 

Kathryn’s face widened with incredulity. “Your betrothed?” She searched his eyes. “Do you mean…we would marry? Is that allowed? I am Atsi Nahsa’I, you said the Cherokee don’t even regard me as a human being!”

 

Chakotay nodded and smiled. “Yes, my love. Atsi Nahsa’I can be brought into the tribe by marriage or adoption. I knew from the beginning that I wanted you as my wife. But I had hoped to give you time to know me, to grow to love me, as well as give my parents time to get to know and love you.”

 

She frowned. “They won’t like the idea, will they?”

 

Chakotay shrugged. “No, not at all. Especially my mother. But they cannot forbid it. Besides, it is only fair. I endured a loveless marriage for their benefit, and the benefit of the whole village. Now it is my turn to have what I want.”

 

She looked at him with eyes full of love. “And you want me.” He nodded, grinning. “I want you, too. God help me, I don’t know why, but I want you.” She kissed him again, melting into his arms, never wanting to let him go.

 

“Let us have our dinner,” Chakotay said when they came up for air. “My father said he would return later. He will not get what he is expecting, but a surprise instead. But it will be good for me to discuss this with him before I tell my mother. He is more likely to agree to it, and perhaps he will help us convince my mother that it is a good thing.”

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

After dinner, Kathryn sat at the table, nervously biting her fingernails, while Chakotay paced the room. After some time, the door opened without a knock, and Silent Eagle walked in, acknowledging Chakotay with a nod.

 

You have told the woman what is expected of her?” he said to his son in Cherokee.

 

Chakotay and Kathryn exchanged glances, and he spoke nervously, in English. “There is an important matter we need to discuss.”

 

“Oh?” replied the older man, his curiosity piqued.

 

“I would not have declared my intentions quite so soon, but you have forced my hand. I regret that I must refuse what you have asked, because I plan to make the beautiful Kathryn my wife,” he said earnestly. His father’s eyebrows arched precipitously. “I hope that you will give us your blessing.” He stepped closer to Kathryn and took her hand, and she stood up next to him. They both looked at Silent Eagle expectantly.

 

The chief looked them both over for a full minute, an enigmatic expression on his face. Then he began to laugh. “Yes, son, after 12 years with Moon Shadow, I would say that you have earned the right to seek happiness. You think this woman will make you happy?”

 

“Yes, father. She already has,” he said, smiling brilliantly at Kathryn. She returned the favor.

 

“Perhaps we can consult the shaman for a potion to convince your mother of it,” Silent Eagle chuckled. “This will not go well with her.”

 

He turned a little more serious and spoke to his son in Cherokee. “Are you certain this woman will stay with you, once she is free?

 

Chakotay looked at him pensively for a moment. “In my heart I believe it. I am also certain that I love her so much that I will let her leave, if that is what will make her happy.

 

Silent Eagle regarded his usually irreverent son with surprise. “It pleases me to see that my wayward son has grown into a man with a pure heart. I did not think you understood the meaning of love, but now I see that you do. May the spirits grant you many years of happiness with your Kathryn.” He paused and addressed them both. “Do not worry about your mother. I will deal with her.” He turned and left.

 

Kathryn let out the breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding, and they wrapped their arms around each other. She looked up at him. “What was he asking you in Cherokee?” she asked curiously.

 

Chakotay pursed his lips, thinking at first to dodge her question, but then realized there must be full honesty between them. She had already declared her love for him.

 

“Come, let us sit and I will explain to you how this will work.” They moved to the table. “As I have told you before, all Cherokee belong to one of seven clans. My father is of the Wild Potato clan. I am of the Wolf clan, my mother’s clan. It is normally forbidden to marry within your own clan. But as Atsi Nahsa’I, you have no clan at all. When we marry, you will take my clan.”

 

He gathered his thoughts for a moment and looked at her intently. “You will have all the rights of any other member of the Wolf clan, the rights of any Cherokee. You will be a free person again.” He paused. “You will be free to leave me.”

 

Kathryn stared at him dumbly, sorting out what he was telling her and trying to figure out what it had to do with Silent Eagle’s last exchange with Chakotay. Chakotay’s gaze was locked on her, his face vulnerable. Then she realized.

 

“Your father wonders if I will leave you as soon as I am free,” she said.

 

Chakotay nodded. He took Kathryn’s hands and began to rub them. “Yes. I told him that I love you so much, that I would let you go if that is what you want,” he whispered, his voice full of emotion. “He was proud. He said I now know the meaning of love.”

 

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she gave him a crooked smile. “Oh, Chakotay! I will never leave you. My heart will always be your captive.”

 

He stood up and pulled her into his arms, and they embraced for a long time.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

They had scarcely finished breakfast the next morning when there was a knock at the door. Chakotay jumped to open it, and in walked Silent Eagle and his wife, Corn Woman. As imposing as Silent Eagle was, she was even more so. Though small in stature, she presented a daunting figure with her stern face and stately carriage. Chakotay greeted them both formally, and Corn Woman swept into the room and walked up to Kathryn, who had sprung up from the table as soon as they entered.

 

“So you presume to think that you can become a Cherokee wife and make a proper home for my son?” she said imperiously.

 

Kathryn was still a slave, but this was not the time to act like it. She drew herself up proudly and looked Corn Woman in the eye as she answered her. “Yes, ma’am. I am willing to do whatever I must to make Chakotay happy. I love him.”

 

The older woman let a small shrewd smile appear on her lips as she moved over to her son. “So the subterfuge is at an end?”

 

“What?” blurted out Chakotay, bewildered.

 

“Did you really think you could fool your mother? I knew since the council meeting that this woman was more to you than a slave,” she said confidently.

 

His mouth dropped open. “But how did you know? In public I was careful to treat her as slaves are usually treated!”

 

“Yes, you did. But I know that is not the way you would treat a slave. Any slave, let alone a beautiful woman. You have always gone about things differently.” She regarded Kathryn with an analytical eye. “I have watched her carefully. She is a hard worker, and I can tell she has a resilient spirit, though she has tried to hide it.” She looked back at Chakotay and smiled slyly. “Perhaps you have met your match. Are you ready to give up your philandering ways and be faithful to her?”

 

Chakotay reddened with embarrassment. His mother had never mentioned his indiscretions before. “Yes, she deserves no less.”

 

“Good,” Corn Woman said curtly. “Well, if this marriage is a mistake, this time it will be your mistake alone. We will not stand in your way.” She nodded at each of them, and she and Silent Eagle departed.

 

Chakotay and Kathryn stared at each other a moment, dumbfounded, then they both erupted in laughter.

 

“Well, she certainly knows you pretty well,” Kathryn chuckled. “I will have to get on her good side so I can learn all the secrets to keeping one step ahead of you.”

 

Chakotay beamed, his dimples in full bloom. He threw his arms around her. “Never, woman. You will never stay ahead of me.”

 

Kathryn gave him a look bursting with love and enjoyed his embrace for a while. “So this is really going to happen. I am going to marry the man that I love,” she sighed.

 

“Yes, my wildcat, it is really going to happen,” he answered, nuzzling her hair.

 

She pulled back for a moment. “There is something I must do,” she said seriously.

 

“What is that, my love,” he asked, searching her face.

 

“Since the day you captured me, I have felt terribly guilty about Jeffrey.” Seeing Chakotay’s questioning look, she realized she had never told him her husband’s name. “My husband. My first husband, I mean.” He is a good man, though we really weren’t suited to be together. I know he is in anguish wondering what has happened to me. I need to let him know I am alright, but that I will never be returning to him. Otherwise it will be very difficult for him to move on with his life – sort of like Moon Shadow’s spirit waiting to move on to the spirit world. I want to write him a letter, and send it with the next traveler to the trading post on the Nantahala. I won’t tell him where I am. I will even let you read it. Would that be alright?”

 

“Of course. That would be a very kind thing to do,” agreed Chakotay.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

The traditional Cherokee ceremony was short and simple. Meeting in the center of the council house, Chakotay presented Kathryn with a venison ham, symbolizing that he would always provide for her. She gave to him a basket of corn, showing that she would take care of their home. Afterward, there was much dancing – Kathryn had hastily learned the steps to the most crucial ones – and feasting.

 

After spending a respectable amount of time with the revelers, the happy couple quietly bowed out. Kathryn was surprised when Chakotay dragged her in the opposite direction from their cabin.

 

“Where are you going? Are you not anxious to start your wedding night with your virgin bride?” she teased.

 

“Indeed I am,” he replied, holding up a blanket that Kathryn had not realized he was carrying. “But I want all the stars in the heavens to witness our first joining as husband and wife.”

 

It was a warm summer night, but a little chill ran up Kathryn’s back to think of being naked outdoors. “But Chakotay – someone might see us!”

 

“No one will see us,” he insisted. “Everyone is celebrating. No one will be out here in the woods.” The ample moonlight lit their way as he led her alongside the creek, across it, then up a hill a little ways to a small clearing nearly surrounded by huge granite outcroppings. “We will be adequately hidden in the off chance that someone should come along.”

 

Kathryn looked overhead. It was a crystal clear night, and even with the bright light from the quarter moon she could see millions of twinkling stars. Magical.

 

Chakotay spread the blanket on the ground, then wrapped his arms tightly around her, giving her a deep passionate kiss. He nuzzled her neck, and she sighed with pleasure. His hands slid down her back, along her rear, as far as they could reach, then he began gathering up the material of her Cherokee dress.

 

“Is the game over now?” he asked seductively, sending shivers down her spine.

 

“Not unless you want it to be,” she replied in a sensuous husky voice. “But maybe you would like it if we take turns being the master.” Even in the relatively dim light, Chakotay could see the unadulterated lust in her eyes, utterly unveiled at last. It made his already swelling cock grow as hard as the granite around them.

 

“Yes, that sounds fair. Perhaps right now I am your slave, and you would like me to lay down on this hard ground instead of you,” he said, the breathiness in his voice revealing his need. After taking her so aggressively so many times, what he really wanted now was her on top.

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I believe you are right. On your back, slave!” she commanded.

 

“First I must help my mistress disrobe,” he smirked, and pulled the dress off over her head, leaving her naked. Then he took off his own shirt and pants, and settled down onto the blanket.

 

Kathryn got on all fours over him, her breasts dangling enticingly. She moved forward and dipped slightly, and Chakotay latched onto one breast and began sucking it so hard it nearly crossed that thin line between pleasure and pain. His broad hands traveled over her back, massaged her sensitive rear, then one slipped underneath and began to stroke her wet lips. He thrust one finger, then two inside of her, and she started moaning and panting with anticipation.

 

Without warning she jerked his hand away. “Now, slave,” she growled, and steadying his eager cock she impaled herself on it unceremoniously. She sat up, increasing his penetration, and enthusiastically rotated her hips. Chakotay was senseless from the exquisite sensation, and from the erotic sight of Kathryn’s pale naked breasts swaying in the moonlight, and he thrust up into her relentlessly. Kathryn was taking the ride of her life. She arched backward, putting her hands on his thighs for balance, and abandoned herself to the total hedonism of the moment. With inarticulate groans, grunts, and moans, they both arrived at the pinnacle of their pleasure and fell off the precipice, floating, floating down until Kathryn collapsed over Chakotay’s chest.

 

“I am forever your captive, my wildcat,” he murmured as they fell asleep under the stars.

 

 

 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Whew! Definitely her best effort so far, Janeway thought to herself. The wild Indian she had invented reminded her a little of the Maquis rebel she had first seen on her viewscreen years before. Chakotay unchained would be quite a force of nature; too bad she could only experience him in her fantasies.

 

Only six more hours to go on her quarantine. She needed out! Her raging hormones, stoked by the aphrodisiac effect of the pain medicine, had her in a near constant state of arousal. Well, she was feeling much better – as far as the flu was concerned, anyway – so it was time to discontinue the medication. She needed to be free of its effects before she saw Chakotay again. If she stopped now, it should be out of her system well before her six hours were up and she could have visitors again.

 

“EMH to Captain Janeway,” her comm badge chirped.

 

“Go ahead, Doctor,” she replied.

 

“I’m dropping by in a minute for your house call.”

 

“Fine. I’ll be waiting,” she answered.

 

Moments later the door chimed, and Janeway admitted the doctor. He quickly ran the tricorder over her.

 

“I certainly hope you’re going to give me good news, Doctor. I can’t stand being cooped up in here much longer,” she warned.

 

“Well, Captain, for once I can comply with one of your unreasonable requests. My scans show that you are no longer contagious, so your quarantine is over as of now. Please continue to take it easy for another day, and then I will assess when you can return to full duty.” He flipped the device closed and headed toward the door. “I’ll inform Commander Chakotay” he was saying as he walked out.

 

“No!” squeaked Janeway, but it was too late, he was already gone.

 

Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn. What would she do now? Any minute he would be…

 

“Chakotay to Janeway,” came the impossibly sexy voice.

 

She swallowed. “Go ahead,” she said, her voice a bit hoarse.

 

“The doctor informs me you’re cleared from quarantine. Feel like some company? I thought I would stop by and see how you’re doing,” he said.

 

Bad idea. Bad, bad, bad. No no no. Don’t do it, Kathryn! “Why yes, Commander. That would be fine…”

 

 

The End

 

Back to Tessa’s index

 

 

Author’s note: If my trilogy hasn’t satisfied your appetite for Indian captive stories, you may be interested in the romance novels of Susan Edwards and  Cassie Edwards (unrelated, as far as I know). I find Susan Edwards’ books a little better than Cassie Edwards’ – a bit more sophisticated. In particular, I liked White Flame.