THE SHATTERING OF THE MASK 3/?
By MorticiaC/P
Disclaimer – part 1
1)
Tom walked slowly into the mess hall and helped himself to a plate of cold leftovers. He wasn’t hungry, in fact he felt sick at the thought of food but he couldn’t spend the next two hours alone in his quarters or he would go mad. At least here he could think things through without succumbing to the mindless urge to howl like a trapped animal. It was 20.00 and most of Alpha shift had eaten and gone on to Sandrines or Fairhaven. A few people were still huddled at tables discussing the gossip of the day and he breathed a sigh of relief that, since his arrival hadn’t caused any furtive glances, the gossip didn’t include him.
Yet.
He sat, gingerly, aware that the damage that the Doctor had repaired was more than skin deep, regretting the tightness of his jeans.
Obviously B’Elanna hadn’t spread the word about what had happened earlier that evening. For a second he felt gratitude before realising that it had more likely been her own reputation she had been protecting. After all she wouldn’t want it known that her boyfriend had thrown her over, especially for a bastard like Dalby.
Pain clenched his stomach as for a fleeting moment he wished that what B’Elanna had thought was the truth. Although he wanted to put his life on the line, literally, and find her and try to beg her forgiveness, he knew that the only thing worse than her hatred would be her pity. He could imagine the disgust that would fill her eyes if she knew the truth. The fact that it wasn’t the first time Dalby had raped him, the fact that he had spent every day and night in prison being someone’s whore. More importantly, the fact that in less than 2 hours he would go to the quarters of the man who had masterminded his debasement and would become his whore too.
There was no point in denying it to himself. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He had three choices; he could tell everybody and become an object of scorn and ridicule. There was no safety in that choice. His experience in prison had taught him that to appear a victim simply drew abusers to you like a magnet. Oh, it wouldn’t happen at once but one day he would walk down a deserted corridor and someone would be waiting for him. He would have to spend the rest of the journey looking over his shoulder, waiting for the inevitable. Never knowing who or when. And in the meantime how could he face the Starfleeters, whose sheltered upbringing in the Federation had not prepared them to accept the choices he had made. Who would sicken him with their pseudo sympathy whilst always saying behind his back that he must have liked it really or he wouldn’t have let it happen. And a large part of him wondered whether that was true.
Or he could kill himself. The thought held no fear. In fact, he examined the idea with clinical detachment. There was no point slitting his wrists or taking pills, the medical computer would pick up his fading life signs and alert the doctor. Then he would be on suicide watch for the rest of his life. A phaser on kill would do it but since he was off duty he would have to steal one from Security or knock out a security officer and steal one. Oh, yeah, Paris get a grip…you couldn’t even fight Dalby off, how the hell would you subdue a trained Security Officer? Maybe he could transport himself to a point out of the ship. He could imagine his body blowing apart like an overripe fruit. Messy and painful but quick. But if he turned up at a transporter room that would show on Tuvok’s station and Chakotay would be able to stop him before he could, before he could what? Overcome the transporter operator and override the security lock and transport himself remotely before he was caught, oh yeah, really likely wasn’t it. Maybe if he could get onto the shuttle deck without detection he could steal the Delta Flyer, shoot the bay doors off and escape before the tractor beam caught him…. Maybe he could get into sickbay claiming aftereffects of the rape and get hold of a lethal dose of painkiller. Except the Doctor had been reprogrammed so he wouldn’t know about Paris’s injuries and he would only get out the painkillers if he saw the injuries and if he saw the injuries he would call Chakotay.
Which brought him to the third and only choice. Chakotay. What was it they said, "Better the devil you know" except Tom had a feeling that he didn’t know Chakotay at all. In fact, it had been made painfully obvious to him today that maybe no one on Voyager really knew him, except maybe the Maquis and they weren’t telling. How could he appear so calm, so gentle, the voice of reason whenever Captain Janeway let her emotions run away with her. How could a man who seemed the perfect text-book example of everyone’s firm but favourite Commander really be the vicious, vengeful beast that had revealed it’s fangs today?
On the other hand, did it seem likely that a man like the perfect Commander Chakotay could have ever been the ruthless leader of a Maquis resistance cell? Everything Tom knew and had heard about the war against the Cardassians had made him realise that no one could survive unless they were as cruel and ruthless as their enemies were. To have become a cell leader Chakotay must have excelled at the torture and killing that were the everyday tools of both sides of the dispute. He had glimpsed today the real Chakotay behind the mask, the wolf who lurked close to the surface of the powerful, dark Indian and despite the terror that made his balls shrink and his hands tremble he also felt the powerful call of that wild spirit.
"He’s the punishment I’ve been looking for" he whispered to himself " my atonement for Caldik Prime" and he shivered to hear these terrible self-destructive thoughts even as he felt in them a truth that no one could ever understand. "He’s the dark vengeful shadow that chases me in my nightmares. And he will kill me, one day at a time until I am a used up husk and I simply blow away like so much space dust. And that is the price I have to pay. The rest has been a rehearsal for this. This is my sentence and I can’t escape it any more."
"Tom, I didn’t see you come in and then I saw you but you seemed so lost in thought I have left you alone but I really must start clearing up now!" came the cheerfully apologetic voice of Neelix, breaking into his thoughts.
"Oh, you haven’t eaten your dinner. Can I get you something else?" Neelix said, torn between concern for Tom who looked unusually pale and irritation that he might be taken up on his offer.
Tom shook his head like a weary animal and looked up at the brightly dressed Talaxian.
"What time is it?" Tom croaked.
"It’s nearly 22.00 and I need my beauty sleep you know" Neelix laughed. He didn’t really know what the saying meant but somehow he had found that people always looked at him and laughed and left without complaint.
Tom shot up in a panic "I’m going to be late, oh God don’t let me be late!" and he ran out of the mess hall without a goodbye like the white rabbit.
Neelix looked at him with a furrowed brow and then chuckled to himself. "Must have a hot date…. Lucky Tom!"
2)
He looked up with irritation from the Padd he was reading as his door chime sounded. It was 22.10 and his temper, which had been at fraying point for several days, was suddenly stretched beyond endurance.
"Tom" he thought, "The bastard. I’ll kill him"
The door chimed again.
"Go away" he yelled, "It’s too late…you had your chance and blew it. Go away"
He threw the padd at the closed door and it clattered to the floor with a satisfying smash.
The chime went again.
"Fucking bastard. If I open that door you’ll wish you hadn’t come here. It’s too late for this."
The chime continued.
He snapped suddenly, jumping to his feet and storming to the door
"You’re dead, Paris, fucking dead" he snarled as he opened the door,
And stepped back in surprise.
"B’Elanna…what are you doing here…I thought you were Tom!"
"He’s not here then?" B’Elanna asked plaintively, and he was struck suddenly by how vulnerable and upset she looked.
"No, he’s not…come in B’Elanna, you look awful…I mean upset… I mean you couldn’t ever look AWFUL… I mean…"
"Shut up, Harry and hold me" B’Elanna said gently and stepped into his room and into his arms.
3)
Tom stood shivering in Chakotay’s living room. He had arrived out of breath with only seconds to spare and as Chakotay had opened his door, still in his Command uniform, he had been chilled by the feral, triumphant smile that slowly spread over the Commander’s face. As the door slid shut behind him with a whisper, trapping him with this unpredictable and very dangerous man, he was struck anew by how intimidating Chakotay was physically.
Although Tom was several inches taller than the older man was, he felt fragile and defenseless against the dense heavy presence of Chakotay. The man exuded strength, confidence and danger. Chakotay stepped back to survey the younger man and his tongue snaked over his lower lip. Although his eyes still glittered with unconcealed hate there was a deep lust lurking in there too. Such an unmistakable combination, the look he had seen so many times before. But it had never had this paralysing power over him in the past. Tom ducked his head and stared at the floor as a humiliated blush coloured his face. If he looked into those eyes for a second longer he would scream.
Chakotay backed slowly away from him as though calming a wild animal and settled into the couch. He relaxed comfortably, stretching his powerful limbs absently and stared at Tom in apparent contemplation for a long time before speaking. When it came, Chakotay’s voice was unexpectedly quiet but unmistakably a command.
"Take off your clothes, Paris"
Startled by the sudden words, Paris looked up to see Chakotay’s heavy lidded eyes regarding him. He was reminded again of a Wolf.
"And I’m the lamb for the slaughter" he told himself, almost laughing in his terror. His frozen limbs refused to move.
Annoyance flashed over the Commander’s features
"NOW! Paris, I won’t ASK again, and I do not expect to ever have to repeat myself again to you. Do you understand?" Chakotay snarled.
"Yes" Paris mumbled
"Yes, what? "
"Yes, sir!" Paris replied beginning to undo his shirt. Fumbling with the buttons in his panic.
"SLOWLY" Chakotay barked, "I want you do it nice and slow for me. Think about pleasing me with every movement you make. Give me a show and if you please me enough then, maybe, just maybe, I’ll take it easier on you tonight. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir" Tom whispered as tears of humiliation started to run down his cheeks.
Tom couldn’t remember ever feeling this bad before. Sure he had been raped and battered countless times but he had always fought, even if sometimes it was only a token resistance because he was too sore for another beating. He had always screamed at his attackers. Always sworn and called them names and let them know that they could do what they liked to his body but his soul was his own. He had never, ever given in before. He had never acted the whore even if they used him like one.
This was different. He was doing this himself. Chakotay was on the other side of the room. He had come to this room voluntarily. Under duress perhaps, but not dragged kicking and screaming. He had walked in and put himself in this position and now he was taking his clothes off just because he had been told to. Something broke in Tom at that moment. Some last vestige of pride that he didn’t even know he still had, broke away and left him trembling and naked in front of the Commander. If sheer despair and self-hatred could have stopped a heart he would have dropped dead at that moment. But the universe was not that kind.
Tom stood there naked for an endless amount of time. It was cold in the room and gooseflesh had erupted on his arms and legs whilst his testicles had shriveled, although he guessed a large part of that was fear. On and on he stood there as Chakotay simply watched him with a small, unpleasant smile on his face. Finally, the tension, the cold and the fear were too much for Tom.
"What do you want me to do?" He asked, hearing his voice break a little on the last word.
"I want you to shut the fuck up" Chakotay snarled and moving with unbelievable speed he sprang up from the couch, crossed the room and back-handed Tom across the face before Tom registered that he was coming.
Tom flew back from the force of the blow and hit the closed door with his left shoulder. Although the dislocation had been fixed, the nerves were still raw and he sank to the floor in agony. He felt a burning heat in his jaw and realised that his lip had started to bleed again. He cautiously looked up and saw that Chakotay had calmly returned to the couch and was again sitting watching him as if nothing had happened.
"Get up" the deceptively soft voice said and Tom didn’t hesitate. He leapt to his feet and stood back where he had left his pile of clothes.
"Open your legs…. This far" and Chakotay indicated about 2 feet with his hands.
Tom complied, looking for further instruction but just got an inscrutable glare. He ducked his head and closed his eyes against the tears that were beginning to form again. His hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically but other than that he stayed motionless for a seemingly endless time. Gradually Tom became aware of a spreading burning pain on the inside of his thighs as his muscles tired of this unnatural position. The more he tried to stay still, the more his muscles ached and trembled so that although he didn’t move from position he was virtually shuddering to stay in place. He looked up at Chakotay, too frightened to speak but ready to plead with his eyes, only to find Chakotay absorbed in a padd. The bastard wasn’t even watching him any more.
Carefully, watching Chakotay for a reaction, he began to move his right leg a millimeter at a time to ease the pressure.
"Don’t move" Chakotay snapped, not even looking up.
Tom froze again. He didn’t know what was going on. He was tired and afraid and in pain and too scared to move. He started to sob quietly, hiccuping the cries so as not to make any noise. After about 10 more minutes, Chakotay put down the padd he was reading and looked up. He saw the trembling, shivering form of Tom Paris and grinned maliciously.
"Good" he purred.
Slowly he got up and walked to the replicator and fumbled with the controls for a minute. He was deliberately ordering non-verbally so that Tom couldn’t tell what he was doing. He took two items from the replicator, and hiding them behind his back he walked up to Tom and stepped behind him.
Tom held his breath, as all he could feel for a long moment was Chakotay’s malevolent presence behind him. Without warning one of Chakotay’s boots kicked his legs further apart. He staggered for a second but didn’t fall.
"Bend over" Chakotay said.
For an instant Tom froze, before the fear of what would happen if he didn’t obey overcame his fear of what would happen if he did.
He reached down, helped by a rough hand on the small of his back, until his hands reached the floor.
"Take your weight on your hands" Chakotay said and Tom obeyed, realising how very vulnerable he was in this position, with his ass stuck up in the air.
Behind him Chakotay opened the tube of lubrication that he had replicated and began smearing it over the other item, a large dildo.
"Let me explain something, Tom" Chakotay said pleasantly, as he completed his task. "I don’t like blood in my bed, or shit in my bed or any other excrescence your putrid body might exude. So from now on when you arrive at my quarters you will have washed yourself inside and out. Do you understand what I mean by that?" and he slapped Tom’s ass hard enough to leave a white handprint in the suddenly reddened skin.
"Yes, Sir" Tom yelped
"Furthermore, I do not want to waste my time preparing you…you are NOT my boyfriend…you are my whore…. You will come ready to accept me, understand?" he punctuated his remark with a blow to the other cheek.
"Yes, Sir" Tom sobbed
"To help you in this, because I like to be a reasonable man, I have replicated you something to assist you. I made it out of YOUR rations, of course, since it is for your benefit" And without any further warning Chakotay shoved the dildo in Tom, in one swift powerful movement, until it was firmly embedded.
Tom screamed at the invasion, whatever Chakotay had stuck up his ass was thicker and longer than anything he had felt before and on top of the earlier rape it was agonizing, despite the lubricant.
"You will realise that you are soon to be the lucky recipient of this!" Chakotay said proudly, and walking to Tom’s front he unzipped his uniform and pulled out the biggest cock Tom had ever seen on a man. Huge and purple with arousal, it glistened with pre-cum. Tom stared at it with horror.
Chakotay rubbed his hand over the weeping end of his cock and then jammed a thick finger into Tom’s mouth.
"Taste me, Tom" he purred and Tom began to suck desperately on Chakotay’s finger.
"Is that good, baby?" Chakotay mocked, "Do you like something to suck?"
Tom looked with despair at Chakotay’s penis as it bobbed threateningly in front of his eyes. "If he puts that in my mouth, I’ll choke" he thought desperately and his throat began to involuntarily spasm. "What will he do if I throw up on him?" Tom asked himself in panic, knowing that the answer was probably worse than his imagination.
Tom started to sob wildly, his eyes darting in panic, his breath coming in gasps as he began to hyperventilate whilst his abused leg muscles began to tremble so badly that his reddened ass wobbled uncontrollably. "No more…please…no more…. Please…please, Sir" He whimpered and nearly collapsed with relief when Chakotay, watching his antics in amusement, calmly put his cock away again, patting it with regret.
"But that’s a pleasure for another day…I don’t want to damage you too much, Tom, otherwise I might wear you out. I have plans for a very long term relationship with you." And Tom did not mistake the threat in those words.
"Stand up and get dressed" Chakotay snapped.
Tom started in surprise…was it over, already? He gingerly grasped the end of the dildo to remove it when, in a daze, heard Chakotay say with unconcealed amusement
"I didn’t tell you to take that out. I said get dressed,"
Barely able to move with the dildo jammed deep inside him, Tom had great difficulty in reaching for his clothes and putting them back on. The act of fastening his tight jeans up pressed the object in even deeper so that he gasped in renewed agony. Finally dressed, his legs as far apart as he could keep them he looked at Chakotay who had returned to the couch. Sweat was pouring down Tom’s forehead stinging his eyes and beading on his chin. He was biting his lip to stop himself crying out and he felt the coppery taste of his own blood.
Tom swayed against an intense wave of nausea.
"Dismissed" Chakotay said and picked the padd up again.
"I don’t think I can walk like this" Tom begged
"Oh, I think you’re going to have to learn to " Chakotay smiled. "Do you really want to still be here if I get up again?" he asked quietly, the menace dripping from his words.
"No, Sir" Tom whispered brokenly and began his slow stagger to the door. The door swooshed open and Tom looked back at the couch but Chakotay didn’t even look up.
Slowly and painfully Tom walked back to his room, like an old cowboy, bow-legged with agony. When he finally stepped over his own doorway he collapsed to the floor in a heap and the feeling of sickness overwhelmed him. He vomited violently, his almost empty stomach wrenched with the effort and each movement drove the dildo impossibly further inside him.
Overwhelmed with the release of terror, he felt his bowels loosen and a dark putrid stain spread from his jeans into the vomit-splattered floor. He lay in his own filth like a wild animal, sobbing and retching for a long time until he simply lay and shuddered with exhaustion, his eyes dull with shock. He was too tired and in too much pain to even attempt to remove his clothes so he lay there feeling the huge alien object inside him and cried himself to a fitful sleep.
TBC