GENTLEMEN'S AGREEMENT

Title: Gentlemen's Agreement, 13/16 
Author: Jaye (Copyright June 2002) 
Codes: C/P NC-17

Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager and all related characters and
concepts  are the property of Paramount. No infringement is
intended or profit  made. This is NC-17 for m/m sex. If you
aren't interested (or aren't old  enough), don't read it.

Archive: Drop me a note first so I know where it's going. Please
keep  the text (especially the disclaimer) intact.

Feedback: Sure but be kind, or at least constructive. E-mail is 
reader8901@fastmail.fm

Summary: An alien royal makes Chakotay an offer he can't refuse.

Note: This is a pretty intense sex scene. Slightly AU, P/T never 
happened and I don't know how canon Chakotay dresses off duty.
Also, Tom's  30, Chakotay 39.

***************

PART THIRTEEN

/This is hopeless. Absolutely hopeless./ Chakotay paused before
a  full-length mirror and stared at his reflection once more.
Checking that  everything was properly covered. Or at least as
best as it could be under  the circumstances. /I was right. I
look like an idiot./ After he  figured out how to prepare
himself and put on the Rutali outfit, he had spent  an hour
getting familiar, if not comfortable, with the clothes and the 
butt plug.

Chakotay sighed in resignation and made another circuit of the
vast  room. He averted his eyes as he passed the table with
Tom's remaining  "toys", but paused at a few others.

One held his carefully wrapped flute. He ran his fingers along
the  protective cloth, musing. Though he'd lightly meditated, he
hadn't dared a  vision quest since the night he accepted the
seal. He dreaded hearing  what his spirit guide would say about
his decisions, and about Tom.  Chakotay was doing the admittedly
cowardly thing and waiting until Voyager  made it through the
wormhole. Then he would present the she-wolf with  the fait
accompli of his actions. And accept whatever admonishments the 
spirit world was bound to bestow on him for his behavior.

With a last pat to the instrument he moved to a lower piece of 
furniture and adjusted the food and drinks arrayed on its
gleaming surface.  Small delicacies to please the palate,
accompanied by bottles of both mild  and more robust wines. Some
fruit blends and water also sat ready. He  wondered what Tom
would choose, and if the selection would reflect the  younger
man's mood for the night.

He was once more made aware of the object residing in his body
as he  crossed to the bottle of massage oil and stack of towels
resting on a  waist-high table some distance away. They sat next
to a high-legged  backless, Roman-style couch. Chakotay could
easily picture a toga-garbed Tom  indolently reclining on it
like a bored patrician, leisurely munching  grapes, gold laurel
leaves gleaming against his fair hair.

Chakotay finally settled on a low, wide ottoman and swallowed as
the  plug in his ass pressed a little deeper. He was worried
about the coming  encounter. He wished that he could talk to his
"Professor". He still  had questions about the remaining
chapters in the Rutali book. Why people  did the things depicted
on the gilt-edged pages. If these were games  Tom had played
with other lovers. Whether there would be any pleasure in  it at
all for Chakotay.

But that lighthearted relationship was now set aside. Chakotay
felt the  crystal resting on his chest, the circlet's weight
around his neck. He  was the Larat, anticipating the arrival of
the Regent. Tom would no  longer be the sweet, teasing,
compassionate teacher of the last few days.  He would be someone
expecting to be served, to be pleased, who was  interested only
in what his courtesan could do, not how he felt. Chakotay  bowed
his head a moment and bid good-bye to the siren who had captured 
his heart. Then he nervously rubbed his palms against the
cushion,  breathed deeply, and waited.

***************

Tom heard the holodeck doors shut behind him. He was in a small
alcove  outside the Regent's suite. He'd spent the hours before
1900 reading  the Rutali tome and getting into character. It
turned out to be  frighteningly easy. At first he'd been worried
about Chakotay. The older man  came across as such an innocent
in sexual matters sometimes that he  wondered how Chakotay was
going to handle the activities outlined at the end  of the book.

Then there came a shift in his thinking. He looked at the
illustrations  of coupling Rutali and began picturing Chakotay
with Nedal. As his  imaginings became more and more elaborate,
his focus altered from concerns  about his Titan to obsessing
over *his* Titan. Determination rose in  him to make the evening
a memorable one. Absolutely unforgettable.

He set down his overnight bag and quickly stripped, dropping his 
clothes into a basket and kicking it under a table. He lifted a
buttoned blue  Rutali robe from the wooden surface, letting its
silky folds spill  towards the floor. He quickly put it on and
found it covered him down to  his ankles. Forgoing underwear,
slacks and shoes, he pushed through a  beaded curtain to enter
the suite. And stopped, the long glittering  strands falling
from his slack hands.

Where the Larat's room was red, this one was white. Rich cream
brocade  covered the walls, set off by gold sconces containing
torches like the  ones in the reception hall. One part of the
suite was obviously a  bedroom, the four-poster draped in silk
and satin even larger than their  previous sleeping surface.
Full-length, gilt-framed mirrors lined the wall  of closets, and
furniture even grander than the Larat's filled the  high-ceiling
space. The floor alternated marble with richly woven carpets. 
All blending the many shades of pale.

A series of slender columns ran along the center of the room,
graceful  arches connecting them. Thus separated from the
sleeping portion was  the equally large sitting area of the
suite. A series of groupings of  plants, couches, settees,
chairs, ottomans and tables littered the area  illuminated by
free-standing gold torch-holders taller than Tom. To the  side
was a rectangular pool. It wasn't as vast as the outdoor one but 
still fairly large, with a banister and marble steps leading
down into  its flower-strewn depths. One corner of the living
room boasted a  fireplace, an abundance of large plush pillows
piled on the carpet before it.  There was a archway tucked into
another corner, probably leading to the  more prosaic
facilities. A wall of French doors revealed a balcony  shadowed
in the dark of Rutali night.

Most shocking were the accents: chains. A single gold cuff
attached to  a matching chain, to be precise. Sets of them hung
from several of the  columns, their counterparts wrapped around
the base. The four-poster's  poles were similarly embellished,
at different levels suggesting a  multitude of positions
available. The walls, the floor, the fireplace, even  the pool
had their own sets discreetly coiled into gleaming piles.  Tom's
imagination raged as he considered the possibilities.

As the blue eyes finished their sweep of the room movement
caught his  attention, then the sight before him stole his
breath. /I was right. He  looks magnificent./

Chakotay was standing in front of the farthest set of furniture.
He  looked like he would be perfectly at home in a daring
Arabian-nights  fantasy. He wore cloth of gold, the pieces not
sewn together but held in  place by figure eights of thin gold
braid looped around crystal buttons.  Perfectly matching the
barbaric seal gleaming on the exposed skin of his  chest.

A loincloth was secured by buttons and braids at each hip. Other
loops  held a hand-width strip of gold silk that ran down the
inside of thigh  and calf to be loosely clasped around each
ankle. The cloth wasn't so  much a pant leg as a silky
background for each muscular limb.

Similarly, material secured at the top of each shoulder flowed
down to  the wrist, its free-swinging folds framing each arm.
Two cloths drew  diagonal lines across Chakotay's torso,
centered to cover each nipple,  forming a vee as they met
diamond-like buttons sparkling in the center of  his waistband.
Tom bet that matching strips were secured at the base of  man's
spine.

The entire outfit tantalized, the gold silk clinging to the
coppery  flesh or sinuously curving around it. It invited the
eye to linger over  the expanses of bared satin skin, yet
tantalized the imagination with the  treasures yet unrevealed.
And this sensuous model of male perfection  existed solely for
him. To serve him. To please him. However he demanded.  Tom
swallowed at the magnificence of the gift.

The younger man noticed that his Larat had, in accordance with
custom,  not met his eyes. Instead the large dark orbs in the
handsome, flushed  face were fixed on the gap created by Tom's
own half-buttoned Rutali  robe. "Remove your shoes," he
commanded and watched the black-haired  figure silently slip off
the gold sandals that completed his ensemble. It  was a purely
practical decision. If Tom lost control and ripped the 
glistening cloth from the burnished flesh he didn't want to
waste time with  footwear. He beckoned the living, breathing wet
dream forward to a  clear space in the center of the sitting
room. It was like watching a  panther, all restrained power and
smooth gliding grace. When he stopped, Tom  moved forward to
slowly circle his prize, eyes feasting on all that was  his to
savor.

Chakotay kept his breathing easy, his hands open, his body
relaxed. But  it was a struggle to retain his composure. He
didn't usually have a  problem with being looked at, but this
wasn't the casual brush of a  stranger's glance or the heated
stare of a lover. It wasn't even the smoky  appreciation of his
siren. This was...invasive...like being sized up to  be devoured
by a predator. Every inch of his body slowly consumed by a 
hungry sapphire gaze in a voracious, rapacious, yet agonizingly
slow  exploration. His skin tightened in instinctive reaction
when the man  wearing blue silk stepped behind him.

Yes, two gold strips formed a similar slant along the muscular
back.  The dimples at the base of Chakotay's spine were just
barely visible  above the loincloth clinging to the extravagant
curves of the rounded  buttocks. Tom reached out a single finger
to run up the cleft, seeing the  figure under his hand shiver in
response. He also felt the edge of an  object holding open the
hidden portal. In preparation for him. His own  body flushed
with desire and he withdrew a moment to calm down. There was  no
way he would spoil this opportunity by acting in haste.

Glancing around the room, hazy blue eyes chanced upon the trays
of  comestibles near a comfortable-looking chair and ottoman. He
strolled over  to it and settled in, placing his feet on the
stool and letting the  robe part just above his knees. He felt
like a king on a throne, and  summoned his comely subject. "Food
and wine," he ordered.

He watched the Larat approach, then a soft, melodious voice
stroked his  eardrums. "What does my liege desire?"

/Too much, too quickly. That's why we're using food as a
delaying  tactic./ "Surprise me."

Chakotay carefully examined the table's contents, his fingers
hovering  over the selections. Finally he picked up a small bone
china plate and  chose several of the savory items and a few of
the sweets. He filled a  crystal goblet with a smooth apple
wine, and added a dash of cinnamon.  He held out the items to
Tom, relieved to note his hands were steady.

He watched long delicate digits reach out for the glass, but was
a  little surprised when Tom simply looked at the food, looked
at him, and  lifted a golden brow in silent expectation.

Bronzed fingers selected a stuffed cherry tomato and brought it
to the  edge of the pink lips, which opened to accept his
offering. He  delicately pushed the hors d'oeuvre in, hastily
withdrawing as soon as the task  was complete. He followed with
the rest of the appetizers, occasionally  taken from his hand
with a nip of white teeth or a rough stroke of  tongue. He then
offered a bite of plain bread to cleanse the palate before  the
sweets.

Tom chewed the morsel, letting its blandness absorb the light
spices of  the food so far. He sipped his wine and enjoyed the
view as Chakotay  stood waiting next to his chair. His eyes were
on a level with the  powerful chest, and he reached out a hand
to run along the smooth flesh of  the man's exposed side. The
barely-clad figure stilled, probably  suppressing the urge to
jump away and run out of the room. Tom continued to pet  the
warm, living satin stretched over sharply defined muscle. His 
fingers ranged over torso, hip and leg. He explored all of the
gleaming  bronzed skin within reach, but carefully refrained
from disturbing the gold  cloths. He watched the faintest
flickers of anxiety and undeniable  pleasure disturb the serene
expression and liquid eyes. /Ah yes, my Titan,  you do enjoy
being touched. Almost as much as I enjoy touching you./

Chakotay's cheeks burned with humiliation and unbidden response
to the  sensations as he stood quietly under Tom's hand. He felt
rather like a  thoroughbred being stroked by its owner. He
considered opening his  mouth in case Tom wanted to check his
teeth. But he didn't, since that was  not part of his role. The
Larat *was* the Regent's plaything. He should  be grateful that
he had so far been allowed to keep his meager  coverings and a
shred of his dignity.

Tom rested a hand along the warm back and drew his companion
closer,  nodding his readiness for...dessert. He closed his eyes
in bliss at the  tiny eclair that soon spread its flavor along
his tongue. Additional  delicate pastries were interspersed with
bite-sized pieces of ripe fruit.  He felt the edges of the
strong fingers brushing his mouth as each  treat was delivered.
When he was done, he licked his lips and opened his  eyes.

Chakotay quickly dropped his own gaze as appropriate. He'd been
staring  in rapt attention at the handsome face reflecting its
enjoyment of the  different flavors. Tom's expression was almost
orgasmic and Chakotay  had sternly quashed the urge to lean
forward and press a kiss to the  smiling mouth. He hastily
cleared his throat and asked, "Would you like  some more?"

Tom drained his glass and considered his attendant. What he
wanted was  *not* on the table, but he didn't feel ready to
tackle the next step.  Not yet. He handed over his glass. "Wine,
yes." He gave a small nod and  smile. "It was an excellent
choice."

Chakotay bowed slightly in acknowledgement and turned to set
down the  plate. He refilled and re-spiced the glass and handed
it back to the  other man. Their fingers brushed and both gasped
at the spark of  sensation. The atmosphere became charged with
electricity.

Tom hastily adjusted his robe. He needed to calm down, *now*. He
didn't  think he wanted entertainment; that was too likely to
excite him even  more. He eyed the couch that clearly doubled as
a massage table, but  immediately rejected it. He never felt in
control under the bronzed hands.  And he definitely needed to be
in control. He considered the items next  to the enticing piece
of furniture. /Maybe not a full massage.../  "Bring the oil and
towels."

He watched Chakotay cross the room in careful strides, the
torchlight  reflecting off his skin and clothing. As his Titan
returned, Tom  indicated his legs resting on the ottoman. "Sit.
I would like a foot massage."

"As you wish," came the soft reply. Chakotay eased gingerly onto
the  cushioned surface, then spread a towel over his thighs. He
lifted one  narrow foot into his lap and opened the bottle of
unscented oil. He  slicked his hands and began to work, for the
moment forgetting that he'd been  ordered to this service. He
became absorbed in simply bringing  relaxation and pleasure to
someone he loved.

Tom leaned back, sipping his wine. As always, Chakotay's touch
brought  him a profound sense of warmth, caring and peace. And
to have the  physical sensation enhanced by the visual
stimulation almost made him groan  with pleasure. He was
startled to actually hear the rumble of  appreciation from his
belly as strong thumbs kneaded the ball of his foot.

Chakotay watched the effect of his ministrations out of the
corner of  his eye. Tom was bonelessly sinking into his seat,
his whole body  softening. He continued his work on the second
foot. He finished by rubbing  the ankle and instep in his grip,
then set both feet down. Chakotay  cleaned his hands, then
gently dried off the soles of Tom's feet so the  younger man
wouldn't slip on the marble as he walked. Then Chakotay stood, 
set aside the re-folded towels and oil and waited for his next 
instruction.

Tom gazed at the beautiful figure through half-closed eyes,
again  wandering the artfully decorated, satiny canvas.
Anticipating his enjoyment  of its hidden delights. But first,
he needed to compensate for the  undeniable power of all those
rippling muscles. Chains were apparently the  Regent's method of
choice, but which set? He thoughtfully chewed his  lip in
contemplation as he considered his options. He felt a slight
buzz  from the wine, just enough to relax his inhibitions. And
let his lust  mix with nascent jealousy to unleash the rougher
aspects of his  sexuality. He was ready to begin.

Chakotay observed the man in the chair as the speculative gaze
turned  into a definite leer. He suddenly wished *he* had
indulged in some  alcohol, but knew he needed to keep a clear
head. He accepted the empty  goblet thrust toward him and
returned it to the table, then watched Tom's  body rise.

Tom's gaze sauntered over the gold-draped form, measuring the
length of  the strong limbs. He nodded and turned, beckoning for
his courtesan to  follow.

Chakotay felt the plush of the carpet give way to the smoothness
of  marble as the men approached the line of columns. Tom faced
him,  graciously gesturing for his companion to take his place
under an arch.

Swallowing a lump of uncertainty at the sight of the gleaming
chains  dangling from brackets on either column, Chakotay
stepped into the space  indicated. He turned and faced Tom,
wanting to keep an eye on what was  happening.

Tom picked up one of the cuffs and opened it, sensing the faint 
hesitation in the older man's movements as Chakotay offered a 
crystal-and-gold-clad wrist. Tom lifted the arm further, pushed
down the "sleeve"  slightly and secured the manacle with a
distinct click. The bronzed arm was  now suspended at an angle,
swinging slightly with the chain.

Chakotay was trembling as the second clasp was secured. His
upper body  now spanned the space between the columns, his
figure forming a Y  shape. His eyes followed the gleaming links
up to the bracket that secured  the chain to the structure. He
wrapped his hand around the metal length  and tugged, testing
the strength of the binding.

Tom unwound the matching chains from the bases of the columns.
He  gripped one trim ankle and slid it outward to meet the
waiting cuff, feeling  the solid body shift its weight to
compensate. He repeated his action  with the other leg, then
stepped back to admire his handiwork. The  bronzed form was now
fully secured, opened to an X by the taut chains.

/Prometheus bound,/ Tom thought idly as his eyes slid down the
strong,  trapped figure. /I wonder what will bring this proud
Titan to his  knees./ He noted the faint tremor in the limbs,
causing the chains to clink.  The sign of nervousness was
countered by the deep, even breaths and  still-calm expression.
Tom stepped forward and lifted the dimpled chin,  searching the
wide doe eyes. They weren't burning with desire, and he 
couldn't name the emotions swirling in their depths.

Chakotay's anxiety increased as he stared into blue eyes he no
longer  recognized. There was something feral about them as they
searched his  own, then raked his chained body once more. He
felt intensely vulnerable,  and more exposed and unsure than at
any point since the inception of  their agreement.

For reasons Tom couldn't even explain to himself, the sight of
his  Titan restrained and spread for his pleasure sparked his
darker desires. To  claim, to own, to possess. He was the
*first*. The first man to touch  this exquisite body, to know
it, to drive it to orgasm while taking his  own pleasure. He
should be the last. The only. It angered him to think  of Nedal
sharing this bounty. Of daring to lay hands on this rare and 
incomparable treasure.

The pale hand tightened on the bound man's jaw as Tom suddenly
pressed  his mouth to the full lips, forcing them open to accept
his ravishing  tongue. He explored the warm cavern, sucking its
breath and sweetness  into his own. His other hand pressed into
the crystal buttons on the  gold-clothed back, pulling their
bodies together.

Chakotay's eyes closed as desire uncurled in his belly,
startling him.  He pressed forward of his own accord, tasting
the wine lingering on  Tom's tongue. It didn't seem to matter if
his captor was motivated by  passion or power; he was helpless
as always before his siren's silent call.  He felt the shackles
chafe his wrists as he strained against them,  wanting to
encircle the slim waist.

Tom's hand moved from the strong jaw to bury itself in the silky
black  hair. There was much to do before the night was ended. He
yanked  Chakotay's head back and hissed, "Choose, my fiery
beauty, which will come  first. Pleasure..." His eyes glittered.
"...or pain."

"Pain." Chakotay never hesitated. He desperately hoped that by
the end  of this experience, other feelings would overshadow the
memory of the  hurt.

Tom nodded. "As you wish." He released the Larat's head but held
his  eyes. "You may make any sound you wish, but if you speak
again before I  allow it I'll gag you. Understood?" He waited
for a nod of  acknowledgement. When he got it, he reached for
one chained wrist. He calmly slipped  a loop off one button,
letting the material swing away to completely  bare the shapely
arm. He ran his hands along the muscles, then his lips,  licking
at the crook of the elbow. He ignored the shoulder buttons and 
instead unhooked the fasteners at the center of the waistband,
leaving  the material loosely draped over the wide chest. He
knelt and released  an ankle button, watching the cloth part to
reveal the entire surface  of a gleaming leg. He kneaded the
soft-skinned coppery limb, feeling  Chakotay shudder in
reaction. He looked up to see the lush lower lip  clenched
between white teeth. He drifted leisurely over to the left-hand 
side of the chained body.

Tom unhooked the bottom of the silk, then rubbed the cloth up
the slant  of the spread leg. Chakotay stirred restlessly as the
chains rattled  and a soft sound escaped. Tom's fingers slid
slowly up to the gold braid  that was the only covering for the
hip, playing with the buttons there  before leaving them intact.
He continued to caress up the torso, then  along the arm until
he could expose the other wrist. He stepped back to  assess the
situation once more.

A light sheen of sweat had broken out over the bronzed body,
making it  gleam as brightly as the gold. The ends of the
material swung free,  completely baring the muscled limbs, now
decorated only by the gold  restraints. Tom reached out to the
muscled abdomen and ran his hands  underneath the material
resting against it, sliding his way up the silk-skinned  torso,
pushing the gold cloth over the tops of the powerful shoulders. 
Now Chakotay was undressed to the waist, the top half of the
outfit  mere scraps of cloth dangling from the buttons at the
bottom of his back.

"Much better," Tom murmured approvingly, flipping the Rutali
seal and  flicking the dusky nipples before breaking off and
striding to the table  of toys.

He deliberately blocked Chakotay's view as he regarded the
implements  laid out for him. He selected a heavy leather whip
and cracked it  experimentally. Even he flinched at the sharp
sound. He replaced it and  picked up a delicate golden chain
that glistened in the light. As it  uncoiled, the nipple clamps
on its ends came into view. He smiled and draped  the apparatus
over his arm. He looked at lashes, paddles, gags, masks,  rings,
staying well away from the truly dangerous instruments. He 
finally chose a blindfold of gold and a wide strap that was made
of a soft  and flexible leather.

Chakotay rotated his wrists in the cuffs and backed up half a
step,  easing some of the strain. He grabbed the chains again,
which also took  off some of the pressure. He was nervous,
wondering what Tom had in store  for him. Though he doubted the
younger man meant to inflict any  permanent damage, pain was
pain. And unfortunately, pain was in the Rutali  book as part of
the Larat's sexual repertoire. He worked his shoulders a 
little, trying to ease the tension. His attention was caught by
the  flash of blue silk as Tom returned to stand in front of
him. The long pale  fingers were stroking some lengths draped
over one arm. Almost  caressing them.

Tom extended his fingers, brushing them across his captive's
taut  pectorals, watching the brown eyes darken and smolder. He
teased the small  male nipples until they peaked, erect and
sensitive. With a satisfied  smile he swiftly clamped them,
ignoring Chakotay's small startled gasps.  He admired this added
adornment, the new metal blending perfectly with  the barbaric
splendor of the Rutali necklace and manacled chains.

He tugged slightly on the small dangling links, this time
looking up to  see the uncertain expression crossing the
handsome face. "You're not  sure whether this is pain or
pleasure, are you? It will be both." He  stared deep into the
bottomless dark eyes.

Tom then lifted a hand to explore the indigo lines of the
tattoo, to  stroke down the regal nose and over the high-boned
cheeks, to tease the  soft lips, following their curves and
dipping in to sample moist heat.  He retrieved the gold cloth,
tossed the strap over his shoulder and  ordered softly, "Close
your eyes."

Chakotay's body tensed as his sight was blocked by the
blindfold. He  could feel Tom wrapping it around his head once
and then again, tying a  soft but sure knot. The scarf's ends
dangled against the back of his  neck. He felt Tom's hands on
his face again, this time framing it as he  bestowed a gentle
kiss. It was a nonverbal request for trust, and  Chakotay
responded by reassuring Tom the only way he could, by relaxing
into  the embrace. The lips left him and he felt a forehead
pressed against  his own, then the absence of Tom's warmth as
his lover crossed through  another arch to stand behind him.

Tom stood regarding the older man's smooth back, glistening and 
powerful. He was anticipating the way the strap would warm the
skin, defining  the muscles and enhancing the fire of the flesh,
making it even more  beautiful. Tom squeezed the top of one
shoulder a moment as a signal,  feeling Chakotay relax even
more. He nodded to himself and stepped back,  raising the strap
and bringing it down sharply, creating a faint red  mark on the
coppery surface. He heard a soft gasp but ignored it, knowing 
he would only stop at true sounds of distress.

Chakotay breathed with the rhythm of Tom's blows. There was
pain, but  the strikes weren't overly heavy and the strap wasn't
as harsh as a  whip. He didn't think the skin would break, the
welts mostly bruising and  heating the flesh of his back. Tom
also seemed to be taking care not to  cross the stripes from
earlier blows. It was bizarre, but Chakotay  began to have an
inkling as to why people might volunteer for this  experience.

With the temporary loss of his sight his other senses seemed
enhanced.  And as the strap continued to fall the skin on his
back seemed to  sizzle, becoming more and more sensitized. The
pain began to be submerged in  a strangely erotic acuity of
awareness. He wasn't exactly aroused, but  he seemed primed, as
if his body craved the increase in intensity the  mix of pain
and pleasure promised. Suddenly the blows ceased, and all he 
felt was the coolness of the air on his sweaty chest and blazing
back.

Tom flung the strap aside, and regarded the bright red glow that 
stretched from the Rutali seal down to Chakotay's waistband. He
lay his pale  hands against the reddened skin; it burned under
his touch. He heard a  long, low moan from his lover as he
delicately brushed his fingers down  the muscles on either side
of the spine. Curious, Tom closed the throat  of his robe and
stepped forward, rubbing the cool blue silk against the  heated
flesh as his hands moved around to play with the chain 
decorating the powerful chest.

Chakotay groaned and shook as the silk---and the curly hair
beneath  it---rubbed against his painful, torturously sensitive
back. He wasn't  sure what to do; he was trapped, by chains and
long limbs, and could only  endure. He moaned again when a cool
stream of air ran down his spine,  Tom's breath marking his
descent to his knees. Chakotay felt nimble  fingers move to his
hips. The buttons were unhooked and the loincloth and  all of
its attachments drawn away, leaving him naked.

Tom carefully laid the gold outfit aside and quickly scooted
between  Chakotay's spread legs. He knew if he stayed behind the
man he wouldn't  be able to resist the temptation of that
unparalleled ass. Instead he  leaned up and licked behind the
heavy scrotum, hearing a surprised sound  above him. Tom laid on
his back in the space between the bound feet,  caressing the
gloriously carved calves and thighs, tickling behind the  knees.
He sat up and began nibbling up the insides of the solid limbs, 
hearing the clink of chains and seeing the sway of a body unable
to  escape.

Chakotay heard the slither of silk as Tom moved fully in front
of him.  His head was tilted slightly as he tried to get some
sense as to where  that tormenting mouth would strike next. He
gasped at a sudden embrace,  nails lightly scoring his abraded
back as a still-robed body pressed  into his own. He felt Tom's
buttons pressing into his chest, stomach and  pelvis, even
brushing against his arousal. He was well aware of Tom's 
erection, currently being ground into his own behind a barrier
of silk  as his captor moved in small, languid thrusts. Teeth
were sliding up and  down his neck, grazing and nipping. Then
the chain bridging his nipples  caught on one of the fasteners
and was pulled, reminding him of its  existence as he gave a
startled cry.

Tom stopped and untangled the chain. His eyes narrowed as he
tugged it  deliberately, earning him a gasp from his captive. He
looked at the  faint marks on the strong throat and decided they
weren't enough. He  leaned in and bit the graceful column,
sucking the flesh hard between his  teeth. He felt the body
against him arch, the head going back to make his  task easier.
He continued to draw on the same morsel of flesh,  breathing in
the heady aroma of arousal mixed with the sweet-spice scent of
the  soft skin.

Chakotay felt the cuffs cut into his wrists and ankles as his
hands  lost their grip and he unconsciously surged forward,
seeking relief. The  clamps were beginning to hurt as he became
more aroused. He wanted to  plead for an end to this---or even
just to feel Tom's naked body against  his own---but he didn't
want to be gagged as well as blindfolded.  Instead he continued
moaning and pulling at the chains.

Tom felt the older man moving into him, accepting the pain at
his  captor's mouth and hands. Tom looked at the gorgeous,
gleaming body, the  splayed limbs and proud erection, and
thought, /Mine. You are mine.  Totally mine. Only mine./ He
looked at the bruise forming against the dusky  skin of
Chakotay's neck and something primal rose up in a fierce Yes. He 
would mark his Titan, proof of ownership. He released the
clamps,  ignoring the groan of relief as he threw the chain away
and fell on the  bound figure in a feral frenzy. His hands
scored bloody welts along the  smooth sides as his nails raked
the flesh on the way to the sleek hips.  Once there they sank
into the warm skin, digging crescents in the  unblemished flesh.

At the same time he began tormenting Chakotay's swollen nipples,
biting  and sucking, ignoring the choked cries from his lover as
he moved from  one to the other, kissing and nipping the muscles
in between. His teeth  scored the older man's trembling belly as
he moved down to the leaking,  straining cock. He voluptuously
sucked the richly flavored precum from  the pulsing shaft before
swallowing it whole.

Chakotay shrieked and twisted in the imprisoning chains, driven
to a  frenzy by the mouth and throat closing around his
erection. He couldn't  thrust or retreat in the clamp of those
unrelenting hands. His skin  burned everywhere from the ache of
the strap and the newly delivered marks  of nails and teeth. The
welts and wounds throbbed with his heartbeat  and stung as the
salt of his sweat entered them. His breath sobbed in his  throat
as his balls drew up and blood surged through his cock, 
desperate for completion. Then the mouth and hands were gone,
and he was  hanging, quivering, on the precipice.

Tom surged to his feet and tore open the Rutali robe, feeling it
swirl  around his frame as he grabbed the dark head and pushed
his tongue into  the panting mouth. He ripped off the blindfold
and thrust his hips  against Chakotay's, grinding their
erections together. Then he pulled his  mouth away and growled,
his hands reaching down to enclose the bound  man's heated
length. One hand gripped and pumped the shaft while the other 
teased the crown, stroking a thumbnail into the slit.

Chakotay screamed and strained against the chains, his cock
finally  erupting into the clever pale hands. After what seemed
like an eternity  suspended in orgasm he rocked back on his
heels, chest heaving and  slippery with sweat. His eyes squinted
against the sudden brightness, then  opened wide with shock.

Tom was pumping his own cock with his still full hands, the blue
silk  robe framing his body. The porcelain skin was flushed with
excitement,  the pink nipples half-hidden in golden curls as
erect as his engorged  penis. His wild eyes glittered as they
bore into Chakotay's, his teeth  bared in a fierce snarl.
Suddenly he yelled and went over the edge,  thrusting into his
cupped hands, mixing Chakotay's semen and his own.

He raised his dripping fingers to his lips and delicately licked
the  salty fluid, then approached his Titan. He saw the chains
stretch taut  again as his prey stumbled back half a step before
stopping and simply  watching his approach, still silent. He
didn't see fear in the dark brown  eyes, just bewildered shock.

As he approached the muscular figure he raised his cupped hands
and  parted them, trickling the white liquid over the hairless
skin. He rubbed  his sticky palms and fingers all over
Chakotay's torso and groin,  marking him with their combined
scent. When he was done he slid the silk  from his shoulders to
spill on the floor and pressed himself against his  lover,
rubbing the fluid into his own flesh and once more claiming the 
full, kiss-swollen mouth. /Mine./

Chakotay was still recovering, trying to make sense of this
strange  night. He'd expected rough sex---that was the topic in
the remaining  Rutali chapters. But he'd been unprepared for
anything like this wild ride.  He was stunned by his own
surrender to the sharp-edged passion at Tom's  hands. He opened
his mouth once more under the blond's assault, feeling  their
release slick and wet against his own skin, reminding him of his 
many cuts, small and large.

Again, his frustration rose as he tugged at the golden chains, 
desperately wanting to be free. He felt the long arms of his
lover embrace him  once more, the hands exploring his stinging
back. Then he felt them  slide down to his buttocks, squeezing
and  stroking before they moved to  wiggle the plug still inside
his ass. He moaned as the almost-forgotten  object moved inside
him, manipulated by the deft fingers.

Tom wrapped himself more tightly around his bound Titan, moving
his  renewed erection against the glistening, smooth belly. He
pulled back and  retained his embrace as he slid under a
swinging chain to press himself  against the bronzed back. He
pulsed his hips a few times against the  firm buttocks, pushing
against the plug. His mouth moved to start marking  the neck and
upper back, following the line of powerful shoulders. His  hands
wandered down Chakotay's front, teasing and stroking, arousing 
the older man's body once more.

Chakotay groaned as he felt the plug yanked from his ass. He
could  almost feel Tom's eyes on his spread buttocks, looking at
the gleaming  orifice. Then suddenly he was filled to the hilt
with Tom's hard, hot cock  as the whipcord-strong body slammed
into him, bowing him forward with  the force of the thrust. He
screamed, a primal cry of welcome, and  grabbed the chains,
pushing back to ease the strain on his arms.

Tom pulled out almost completely before shoving in again, this
time  feeling his partner's body simply rock with his movement.
He was  determined to pound his essence so deep into his Titan
that no one---not even  Nedal---would ever supplant him. His
fingers were bruising as they  settled once more around the
solid hips, yanking Chakotay back to impale him  even further.
So Tom could go even deeper.

The need was like a fire in Tom's brain as he pumped and pumped
and  pumped, listening to the wild sounds coming from the
chained man. His eyes  focused on the bites he'd delivered along
the skin between Chakotay's  neck and shoulder. One spot
remained untouched. He dove for it, snapping  his teeth tight
around his target. A strangled sound of real pain  startled him,
then the bitter, salty tang of blood filled his mouth as he 
pulled back in shock, staring at the torn bronzed flesh,
watching a thin  line of red trace its way down the curve of the
broad back. He froze,  still buried, overcome by shock at his
own brutality. "Oh shit, Chak,  I'm sorry," he said in panic,
releasing his fierce hold and beginning to  hastily pull out,
intending to end the scenario and repair the damage  to the
ravished, ravaged body.

"No!" The voice of command was enough to halt the blond in his
tracks.  Chakotay took a deep breath and took charge of the
situation. He knew  that if it ended now, Tom would berate
himself for all that he'd done in  the haze of passion. The
older man calmly backed up a step, reseating  the still erect
flesh in his body. Then he reached up, wrapped his right  hand
more fully around the golden chain, and gave a single, powerful 
yank. The bracket separated from the column with a breaking
sound, pieces  of plaster clattering to the floor.

Shock held Tom immobile as he watched the same arm, chain
swinging from  its wrist, reach behind his own head. Suddenly he
was jerked forward,  over the bleeding shoulder, to stare into
the heart of an inferno. He  moaned helplessly under the blast
of desire and passion in the burning  dark eyes.

Then he felt the press of Chakotay's mouth against his own,
grinding  hard and relentlessly, tongue pillaging without relief
while the hand  held him in place. The pressure increased until
he tasted his own blood as  his lip was cut against his bottom
teeth. Then his head was pulled  back.

He stood mesmerized as the same remorseless tongue reached out
and  slowly licked the blood from his lips. A heartbeat later
his eyes were  captured again in a ring of fire as Chakotay
growled, "Finish it." Then the  Larat released Tom, moved his
arm and head forward and commanded,  "Computer, restore chain."
With all limbs stretched taut once more, the  older man looked
over his shoulder. One sable brow rose in challenge.

Tom stared for another moment, then growled and thrust. The fire
in his  Titan's eyes had burned out his own shame, worry,
horror, everything  but passion and need and the knowledge that
Chakotay wanted this. Wanted  *him*. He stretched out his own
arms, laying them against their darker  counterparts and meshing
their fingers together. He began chanting with  each breath,
"Mine, mine, mine," as he drove both of them toward 
fulfillment.

Chakotay gripped the fingers wrapped around his own and pushed
back in  rhythm with Tom. His own grunts were unintelligible as
his prostate and  bruised back were pounded with every lunge of
his lover's body against  his own. They were both dripping with
sweat, slick flesh sliding as  they slammed into each other
again and again. His penis was aching,  pulsing in the coolness
of the air. He drove back harder and heard the fierce  voice in
his ear. /Yes, yes, yes,/ his mind echoed as his body suddenly 
jerked, another scream ripped from him as his untouched cock
sprayed  his cum into the air. He felt every single hair on
Tom's body brushing  against his skin as the blond continued to
plunge over and over.

Tom was howling, lost to everything but the throes of his own
release.  He thrust again and again into the heated, satin
channel, long after  his balls were empty, his mind ablaze with
the white-hot rush of ecstasy.  Finally his spent senses began
to return and he became aware that he  was slumped over
Chakotay's shoulder and back, both of them held up by  the
chains digging into bruised, bloody wrists. Tom shook his head, 
clearing it, and quickly bent to free the bound ankles. Then he
reached up  to release one shackle, then the other. He helped
Chakotay as the older  man sank to hands and knees on the marble
floor. "Stay here, Chak. I've  got the Doc's medkit in my bag."
He dashed off to the alcove, his body  still thrumming with the
pleasure of the most intense orgasm of his  life, but his mind
stunned by the blend of sex and violence. And the way  he had
reveled in it.

Chakotay was still shaking with aftershocks of pleasure,
absolutely  blown away by the whole experience. He used a column
to climb to his feet  and carefully made his way to the pool.
His limbs felt strained and  sore, but also light and free
without the chains. He eased himself into  the warm water just
as Tom reappeared.

"Hey! I told you to stay put." Tom hurried over, juggling a
tricorder,  hypospray and regenerator. The blond knelt and set
the equipment on the  tile by the steps where Chakotay was
soaking. He laid gentle fingers  near the torn skin of the bite,
red and raw-looking. "Are you all right,  Chak?"

Chakotay nodded, then said quietly, "Perhaps you'd better just
leave  those with me. I'll probably be repairing myself as well
as preparing."

Tom moved the hand to one cheek, his eyes soft and sincere.
"That's  probably true, but let me do this, okay?"

Brown eyes stared into blue; Chakotay couldn't deny Tom's
instinctive  need to make amends. He brought a hand up to cover
the pale one on his  cheek. "As you wish."

Tom felt tears sting his eyes at the warmth and trust that still
shone  in the dark gaze. He carefully and thoroughly cleaned the
coppery skin,  stunned anew at the marks of passion he'd wreaked
upon the  once-pristine surface. He tenderly washed the bruised
and scratched back, and was  especially gentle lower down, in
the cleft, noting the redness of the  area. The regenerator had
a lot of work to do.

Tom helped Chakotay stand and walked him over to the fireplace.
Once  the older man was settled on some pillows, Tom brought
over a large glass  of water and a hypospray. He told his
companion, "This is an antibiotic  and an analgesic. It should
prevent infection and ease the pain. I'm  going to clean off
before I regenerate those wounds, okay?"

Chakotay nodded and gratefully accepted the glass. His throat
was sore;  he wondered if Tom would have to regenerate *that*,
too. He watched the  gilt-edged figure of his siren descending
into the pool and sighed in  appreciation. The long lean back
and limbs were beautifully formed, and  the tight little ass
very appealing. The older man shook his head and  grinned
tiredly. Apparently his libido was the only part of him *not* 
sore and exhausted. He vaguely wondered what Tom would look like
in  chains. /I would put him on that couch and leave his legs
free. Feed him  grapes, massage and kiss all that enticingly
hairy skin, prepare him  for.../ The door slammed shut on *that*
line of speculation. It was best to  keep his mind on reality.
He went back to watching Tom clean up, simply  admiring him once
again.

Tom swiftly finished his ablutions, dried off and sprinted back
to the  fireplace. He almost wrapped a towel around his waist,
but changed his  mind at the last moment. Chakotay had already
spent too much time this  evening naked while Tom was clothed.

First he took the glass back for a refill, stopping to swallow
some  water of his own. His throat was aching; he wondered if
they both needed  their vocal cords healed. Then he brought
Chakotay's water back, handed  it over and settled down on a
pillow behind the bronzed man. "I want to  get your shoulder and
everything back here regenerated first." At the  nod of the dark
head he began to work, scrutinizing the instrument's  effects as
the vicious bite slowly disappeared, leaving the skin smooth 
and unmarked once more. He touched it, carefully, making sure
the texture  was still silky-soft.

As he shifted to work on the back, Tom cleared his throat and
said  seriously, "You can't let Nedal restrain you, Chak. That
*must* be one of  the five refusals." He shook his head, his
eyes unconsciously wandering  back to the newly regenerated
shoulder. "There's something about the  sight of you in
chains...it made me want to break you. To prove that I  could.
To see just how much you could take."

Chakotay sighed and felt the tingle of the regenerator doing its
work  and the warmth of the younger man's concern. He knew that
there were a  lot of issues to be addressed, but at the moment
he didn't have the  energy. All he wanted was to stay in the
soothing haze of afterglow,  enhanced by the easing of his aches
and pains as Tom continued to heal him.  "There are many lessons
to be learned from this, Tom, but I can't talk  about them
tonight."

He obeyed the hands urging him to lay down on his stomach, and
felt the  regenerator's vibration between his buttocks. He
wriggled a little,  tickled by the sensation. He looked over his
shoulder to catch his  partner's brooding eyes. "I know this was
hard for you, Tom, and I'm grateful  that you could see it
through. But can you wait until tomorrow to  discuss it? Right
now I'll admit I just want to sleep."

Tom rolled the older man over and began working on the gouges in
the  smooth hips. He decided that *he* needed some time as well,
to think  about what happened. And what it said about him.
"Yeah, I can handle that."

The two men fell silent, listening to the crackling of the many
fires  in the room. A while later Tom finally finished by
double-checking the  last job, the chafed wrists. Satisfied that
every inch of the coppery  skin was healed he stood, offering a
hand to Chakotay. As the older man  disappeared to brush his
teeth and perform his other nightly routines,  Tom repacked his
equipment and moved his bag into the suite proper. He  picked up
the Larat outfit carefully; he laid it on a settee since he 
wasn't sure if it was sturdy enough for the refresher. His
memories  swirled around him once more as he touched the silky
gold cloth. When  Chakotay came out he hurriedly withdrew his
hand and darted through the  archway, eager to brush the taste
of blood fully out of his mouth.

He returned to see his Titan sitting up in bed, glowing darkly
against  the all-white background. Concern was clear in
Chakotay's gaze as he  followed Tom's approach and journey under
the covers. "Are *you* all  right, Tom?" the voice was as soft
as the expression in the beautiful eyes.

Tom leaned over and kissed Chakotay. It turned into a gentle,
tender  reassurance from each man to the other that they had
made it through the  night intact. They lost track of time as
they simply continued the  contact, hands rubbing shoulders and
lips communicating without words. When  they parted, they rested
their heads together and just let the peace  take hold. Then Tom
turned Chakotay to lay on his side as he snuggled up  to the
warm, broad back and ordered the lights dimmed. As he sensed the 
older man drift off, Tom continued to stare into the
semi-darkness  awhile, his eyes riveted to a particular spot on
a smooth bronzed shoulder.

TBC