Title: Then Else
	Author: rita (mommacita1@juno.com)
	Series: Part 2 (of 3 that I know of now) of the "What If?" Series
	Rating: NC-17
	Warnings: Domination/submission themes. Semi-consensual m/m sex.
	Codes: P/K; P/K/other

	Summary: Sequel to What If? For the logicians amongst us, remember "If,
	then, else" statements? Here's Tom's.

	Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just like to borrow 'em.

	Harry wants me to write this down. He says we need to write it down so
	we'll remember and not fall into the same trap again. I'm writing it down
	because he wants me to. On the other hand, he says this isn't where it
	started and I'm still writing from this point because I think this is where
	it all came together - or all came crashing down, depending on your
	viewpoint. So maybe this is a sign of improvement: I'm not starting from
	the events Harry wants me to start with.

	Chakotay, if you're reading this, which undoubtedly you will be, I'm
	sitting in my quarters at the table fully dressed and without a hard-on.
	And, before you ask, my bladder is empty as is my ass. Harry is here, but
	he's not reading over my shoulder; he's on the couch working an
	astrometrics problem.

	Captain, if you're reading this, and I'm sure you will be, too, I wish you
	wouldn't. But I do want to pilot again in this lifetime, so go ahead.
	You've figured out the general outline anyway, you might as well know the
	details.

	Here goes.

	I woke up - or maybe I came to, I'm still not sure of which - face down on
	the floor, naked, in a cold puddle. For as long as I can remember, when I
	wake up I don't move right away, just sort of feel out my surroundings. My
	first thought, considering my position and state of undress, was
	"Auckland". But there was carpeting under my body, so I ruled that out.

	My second thought was "the Admiral's house". Funny how tactile sensations
	bring up memories as if they had just happened. So I smelled the air and
	carpet as best I could without letting anyone who might be watching know I
	was conscious or awake. Semen and urine, probably what constituted the wet
	spot I was lying in. Probably mine. No vomit or fecal odors though. So this
	was probably not Dear Old Dad's.

	I felt the rumble through the flooring. On a ship then. Friend or enemy? I
	carefully inventoried my body. No restraints, no injuries, except for a
	soreness in my rear and that was nothing new, nor was it unique enough to
	pinpoint where I was. But more likely Star Fleet than Maquis.

	Of course. Voyager. You'd think after eight years that would be the first
	place I'd guess. So, Voyager. Now I started to think.

	It only took a few moments to remember being filled from both ends. I must
	have collapsed when the two men withdrew. The urine might in fact be
	Harry's, I realized. He seems to enjoy peeing on me almost as much as
	making me wet myself. I wasn't sure about Ayala. And all I could do then
	was hope this was a one-time deal. Not that I didn't deserve it. Not after
	I made Harry come in his pants in Sandrine's.

	We were in the back corner, necking. And I guess I got carried away. I was
	kissing Harry, sitting in his lap, hugging him. He tried to push me off,
	but I just got more amorous. The more annoyed he got, the more insistent I
	got. And I know all his hot spots. So when I pinned him and deep-throated
	my tongue in his mouth while squeezing his balls - well, he came, but he
	didn't enjoy it. Even I could see that.

	So, I wasn't surprised when he was waiting for me in my quarters a few days
	later. I just stripped and urinated. Then I stood there and waited for
	whatever he was going to say. Whatever I was going to do. Harry reminded me
	that this whole thing started in Sandrine's. At first I didn't understand,
	but he reminded me that Ayala had brought his dissatisfaction to a head by
	teasing him. I remembered then. I just didn't realize where he was taking
	it.

	I thought about how Harry seized control in the first place. I remembered
	the catheter and the water pump. I thought Harry had proved his point
	rather clearly. He could control my body. I didn't understand that he was
	trying to tell me that I did the same thing to him. He humiliated me in
	private by tearing my physical control away from me. I didn't see that I
	humiliated him in public, even though he told me about the teasing and
	Chakotay's observation on the subject.

	So when the private humiliations continued - stripping, masturbating in
	front of him, urinating on command - I continued my public humiliations. I
	just didn't get it. The first time he was waiting for me in my quarters, I
	was just stunned. He had said he wanted his turn on top, so to speak, sure,
	but he'd had five days of that. Now, writing about it, I realize that five
	days just wasn't enough for him. Not only didn't I change the way I acted
	as he'd hoped I would, I think he was already hooked on the way he could
	control me body and mind.

	When I wet myself that first time in my quarters, I'm sure Harry thought it
	was submission. But he was wrong. It was abject fear. The thought of the
	cock ring didn't bother me too much. But the butt plug! Harry doesn't know
	all of my history. It isn't just Auckland that makes me dislike anal sex
	(yeah, that's it, Paris, use that politically correct language - dislike -
	there's no word *strong* enough for how I feel). But Harry doesn't know
	what the inside of my ass is like - the scar tissue, the fissures. Yeah, a
	finger, a dildo, even a cock - they don't hurt - Harry makes sure they
	don't - but not everything that's been shoved up there has been smooth or
	rounded. No, nothing Harry can do will make me enjoy being screwed. What
	doesn't feel bad, doesn't feel. There's nothing he can do about it.

	So what happens? I let him put them on me/in me. I do what he tells me to.
	At the end of the evening or the next morning he takes them off and out.
	And I go back to being thoughtless Tom Paris. Like the night in Sandrine's
	when he had early shift the next day while I had the day off. I wanted to
	leave. If we didn't leave early, we wouldn't have time for anything before
	he had to get some sleep. But Harry was deep in a discussion of warp core
	anomalies - what else? - with the Captain and Belanna. So I hung on him. I
	tickled him. I licked the back of his neck. I nibbled on his jaw. The more
	annoyed he got, the more I pressed on. I can be really thick.

	So why was I surprised when, the next morning, I opened the cupboard for a
	clean towel to find the water pump sitting next to the stack of towels,
	with the catheter coiled neatly around it? Harry came in at his break to
	find me sobbing while sitting in - you guessed it - a pool of my own urine.
	He efficiently stripped me, threw my shorts into the recycler, and noted
	how fortunate it was that I had emptied my bladder since he was rushed for
	time. You can guess the rest.

	But I didn't guess. I just kept on being the demanding one. The one who
	made the decisions - in public. And Harry became more and more the one who
	controlled my body. It went from filling me up every night *or* leaving the
	cock ring and butt plug in all night to filling me up *and* leaving them in
	every night. Then through breakfast - yes, Harry started controlling my
	body outside my quarters, but so gradually, I don't think either of us
	realized it had gone from private to public. And no one else could tell.

	I continued being obnoxious in Sandrine's, in the Resort, in the mess hall,
	even on the bridge and once - only once, thank you, Belanna - in
	Engineering. And Harry stretched the time I went with a full bladder and
	the sex toys to first break. He tried making me wait until lunch, but that
	was when he found my body's limit. I lurched off the bridge with a mumbled
	apology and barely made it to the nearest head. I was shaking so badly I
	couldn't get my uniform open, let alone unstrap the cock ring. But Harry
	had followed me, with the Captain's permission of course, to "see if I
	needed help". When I had relieved myself, he led me back to my quarters
	where he relieved himself, with my help.

	Did anyone ever wonder why I showed up at the Mess Hall every morning but
	never ate or drank anything? Probably not. Just like no one ever complained
	about the slowness of the lift at the beginning of alpha shift. Since I
	couldn't make it past first break with a full bladder, Harry added a quick
	jerk off performance in the lift up from the Mess Hall to my morning
	routine. Of course, I couldn't come because of the cock ring, and Harry
	called a halt to my performance and started the lift as soon as I began
	spasming. He had just enough time to tuck me back into my uniform while I
	got my body under a semblance of control before the doors opened onto the
	bridge.

	I've gotten off-topic, haven't I? Okay. So, lying there, I prayed that
	Ayala wasn't a new addition to the routine. I love Harry. I'll do anything
	for him. So if Ayala was to be included, I suddenly knew I would go along.
	And I wondered what would be next.

	I could hear soft crying and assumed it was me. That's when I noticed Harry
	wasn't there soothing me. He rarely kissed me or was otherwise affectionate
	anymore, but he almost always calmed me down when he introduced something
	new because I was almost always upset by it. Letting my senses expand, I
	realized he hadn't replaced the cock ring or butt plug either, something
	else he almost always did. That I was still lying in my own wastes was not
	all that strange; sometimes Harry cleaned me up, sometimes he didn't. But
	he was always *there* when I came back to myself. I started to panic. Where
	was he?

	I tried to open my eyes to look for him. That's when I realized they were
	already open. I had been turned inward, thinking, so that I wasn't even
	trying to see. I blinked several times before I could focus. There were no
	tears blurring my vision, so the crying wasn't me after all. Harry?

	I could see him, sitting there, sex toys in hand, tears running down his
	cheeks as he stared at me. I wanted to go to comfort him - but I couldn't.
	I wanted to ask him what was wrong - but I couldn't. I couldn't move until
	he told me to. I watched him as he watched me. I waited for him to tell me
	what to do next.

	Well.

	That's all there is. Click. Tom Paris, sexual automaton. Responds to voice
	commands only. No self-motivation. Inside, I'm still there - I swear I am.
	But to anyone looking - no. No one home. If Harry tells me what to do, then
	I can act. Else - nothing. That night with Ayala, Harry's control became
	complete.

	Harry isn't watching, so he doesn't know that I'm done. He told me to
	write. I'm still writing. I guess I could go on about how Harry commed
	Chakotay and confessed all. How Chakotay and Tuvok pieced together what
	must have happened inside my head. But maybe, maybe I can stop writing now.
	Save the file. Because I've really written everything that could be of any
	help.

	Can I?

	End