Title: Train Ride

	Author: rita (mommacita1@juno.com)

	Rating: NC-17

	Pairing: P/K, P/others - male and female

	Archive: Yes

	Warnings: For indentured sexual servitude and prostitution. "Huh?" you say.
	Look, if you can't imagine that Tom would resort to selling himself and
	allowing himself to be - ahh - rented out by his owner, you probably don't
	want to read this.

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

	Summary: Voyager's unexpectedly early arrival back in the Alpha Quadrant,
	with Harry's latent priggishness reasserting itself, and Earth being
	*very*, ahem, open-minded about PDA (public displays of affection, y'all),
	along with StarFleet greeting Tom with less than open arms, results in,
	well, this story.

	Prologue

	"I *do* love you, Tom," Harry explained with tears in his eyes. "It's just
	-"

	"Shh, I know," Tom Paris put a finger to his soon-to-be-ex lover's lips to
	stop the rush of words. He smiled sadly. "It's just that I'm not the sort
	of person to bring home to mother, right?"

	"I love you, Tom," Harry repeated. He didn't know what else to say. He had
	expected a cold cut-off at the least, angry violence at the worst -
	certainly not this calm acceptance. He looked at his lover, naked as usual
	because Harry liked him that way, sitting facing him, their knees touching.
	Tom smiled again, then slid to kneel in front of Harry.

	"Once more for old times' sake?" he asked, clear blue eyes looking up for
	permission. Harry nodded and leaned his head back against the chair.

	Tom opened Harry's clothing and began coaxing him to arousal. It didn't
	take long before Harry's eyes were tightly closed and he was moaning
	continuously. He erupted into Tom's mouth and lost track of reality for a
	time. Vaguely he felt Tom's tongue lave him clean. Then his clothes were
	readjusted. Eventually, he reached for Tom - to find nothing.

	Harry's eyes popped wide open. Tom was gone. Completely gone from his life.
	As always, Tom had done what Harry asked and in such a way that it was
	easiest on Harry. Only now did Harry ask himself if this was truly the way
	it had to be.

	***

	Ensign Thomas Eugene Paris stood at attention before the tribunal. Captain
	Katherine Janeway stood next to him. He could feel her steadfast loyalty
	and devotion to him as a palpable presence. She had done her best - far
	more than he deserved. Far more than he would get.

	"Mr. Paris," began Admiral Picard, "This tribunal, StarFleet, and the
	Federation applaud and thank you for your efforts on behalf of Voyager and
	her crew. Due to your display of loyalty and altruism, this tribunal
	unanimously rescinds any and all pending judgments against you. However..."
	Picard paused and cleared his throat, perhaps in embarrassment.

	Tom had known the however was coming. The sigh from his captain told him
	she had had more faith than he. He regretted that she had to be
	disillusioned about the beneficence of StarFleet, but he was unsurprised.

	"However," Picard continued, "In view of your past history and the series
	of incidents during Voyager's sojourn in the Delta Quadrant, it is the ...
	majority ..." he paused to emphasize the word and stare pointedly at
	Janeway, "the majority decision of this tribunal that your field commission
	cannot be ratified. You are, therefore, awarded a complete and
	unconditional pardon and returned to society as a free civilian citizen of
	the Federation. We tender our best wishes for your continued growth and
	success in whatever endeavors you undertake." He put down the written
	decision and looked up again. "This tribunal is adjourned." He stepped off
	the dais, and approached the two Voyagers. "My most humble apologies," he
	said, shaking his head. "I really did try, Katherine."

	"I'm sure you did, Admiral," Janeway replied. She turned to Tom. "If
	there's anything I can do ..."

	"Or I ..." Admiral Picard put in.

	"Thank you both, you've done more than I had any right to expect - more
	than I imagined you would or could," Tom replied, meeting their eyes in
	turn. "I'm a free man, which I wasn't convinced I would be. Thank you
	both." He leaned forward and impulsively kissed the Captain on her cheek,
	then quickly turned and shook the Admiral's hand. "I really have to go now.
	I'll miss you, Captain. Thank you for everything." He turned quickly and,
	with back straight and head held high, walked out of StarFleet's Hall of
	Justice and out of Katherine Janeway's life.

	***

	Two years later

	Harry boarded the reconstructed Intercity Rail System at Wall's End with
	some trepidation. He was tired and disheartened. He had been determined to
	spend his first leave on Earth, searching for the best thing that he had
	ever pushed out of his life: Tom Paris. He shook his head in disbelief and
	realized it was the exact gesture his mother had made when he confessed to
	her what he had done to make himself so miserable, and why he had done it.
	He chuckled ruefully.

	He had gone to Marseilles immediately on his arrival, sure he would find
	Tom there. It took him two days to find Sandrine's. Another day passed
	before he convinced the bartender to take him upstairs to the elderly
	French woman whose name the bar bore. She had listened to his story much as
	her younger hologram would have, but her only advice was to ride the
	Intercity Rail System in what had once been northern England.

	Cryptic advice, but she would not explain further. So Harry obeyed. He had
	ridden it for a week now. This would be the last leg of the ride. He
	returned to London in two days.

	Lost in his thoughts, he was startled by raucous laughter and looked up. A
	burly man in the current working class uniform of black leather pants and
	jacket over white tee-shirt boarded, a beer in one hand and the jeans-clad
	ass of a slimmer man in his other. Harry couldn't help noting how his
	stylish dress stood out in contrast to the other man's clothes. The jeans
	were tailored to his body and topping them was a sapphire blue silk shirt
	with flowing sleeves gathered at the wrists and an open vee neckline.

	The train was crowded as a work-shift was just getting over. The burly man
	backed himself against a pole and pulled his partner backwards to him,
	holding him firmly as he fondled the man's crotch. The slimmer man laughed
	and wiggled his backside into his companion's groin. Harry sighed in
	dismay. He had not gotten used to the overt public sex that was to be seen,
	heard, and smelled all over the British Isles.

	What made it worse was the new planetary legislation that legalized the
	buying and selling of people to pay debts or simply survive. People sold
	themselves, as he understood it, in return for payment of outstanding debts
	or for room and board - clothing was optional. People who sold themselves
	gave up their freedom and citizenship. And once they had done that, a
	loophole in the law allowed their owners to resell, lease, rent, or even
	give them away. Those who were so indentured were required to wear a set of
	metal tags identifying their status and current owner. As the jeans-clad
	man reached to cover his companion's hands with his own, Harry saw the
	telltale tags swing from a chain around his wrist.

	The train emptied out gradually, and a seat opened across from Harry. The
	leather-clad man took the seat and patted his lap. Laughing, the other man
	approached. Instead of sitting, however, he began teasing his owner,
	leaning forward to place light kisses on lips, nose, ears, and cheeks, then
	quickly pulling out of reach of the other's arms. Both men laughed, as did
	a number of nearby travelers, enjoying the show. Then the train lurched
	around a curve and the approaching man stumbled, jostling his owner, who
	lost his grasp on the beer bottle.

	Harry had been studiously examining his hands. He heard a sharp crack
	accompanied by "Stupid twat!" and something fell against his feet. He
	looked down to see the slim man scrambling off him, the imprint of a hand
	clear on his face.

	"Sorry," the man muttered, turning clear blue eyes towards him for an
	instant in apology before obeying the snarled "Get over here," and crawling
	back across the aisle.

	Harry stared, and he was not alone. If anything, more of the nearby
	passengers' eyes than before were riveted on the pair. But Harry was not
	watching to see what would happen. He'd only had a glimpse of the man's
	face, but one glimpse, combined with the oh-so-familiar voice, was enough.
	"Tom!" he blurted out.

	The crawling man froze. In slow motion, he looked over his shoulder. His
	face went red, then white. Although he'd looked up, he hadn't really seen
	the face of the person he'd fallen against. He made a habit of *not*
	seeing. Now he couldn't avoid it. "Harry," he breathed. His head dropped in
	shame.

	The burly man was out of his seat, furious. Part of Harry's brain idly
	noted the man's violent mood swings. He kicked his slave out of his path,
	ordering "Pick up the bottle!" and advanced to stand menacingly over Harry.
	"Who the hell d'you think you are, talkin' to my property?"

	"Lieutenant Commander Harry Kim," Harry answered calmly, surprising himself
	and earning impressed whispers from the onlookers. "And you would be?" he
	inquired politely.

	"Introduce us, slut," the man growled, pulling Tom, who had crawled back to
	his owner's side with the now empty beer bottle, to his feet.

	Holding the bottle in both hands and not looking at either of them, Tom
	made the introductions. "Bruno Weirman, this is ... Lieutenant Commander
	Harry Kim, my former shipmate on the USS Voyager. Commander,
	congratulations on your promotion. This is Bruno Weirman, my owner."

	"Whadda ya think of your shipmate now, Commander?" Weirman asked. Harry
	maintained his silence. Tom turned bright red and seemed to shrink into
	himself. "Or were you his owner?" Bruno continued slyly.

	At this Tom straightened. "No," he said firmly. "I wasn't owned then. I was
	an officer and chief pilot."

	"The best pilot in StarFleet," Harry added forcefully.

	Bruno grinned viciously. "Well, I don't know about piloting, but he's still
	the best," he agreed cheerfully. He paused, none too subtly, for effect.
	"Here, I'll show you. Hands." he ordered.

	Tom turned towards Bruno, put the bottle between his knees, and clicked his
	wrists together. the resulting snap told Harry that the identification tag
	bracelets were magnetite. Tom's hands were now shackled together until a
	third piece of magnetite, keyed to unlock the other two, was applied.

	Bruno turned Tom towards Harry, grabbed his hands and hooked them over the
	nearest passenger grab-hold. Then he positioned himself behind his captive
	and Harry heard a ripping noise. He realized Tom's jeans contained a velcro
	patch for easy rear access. He had seen the feature advertised.

	Weirman continued speaking as he pulled the bottle from between Tom's
	knees. "He's the best at sex - any kind, any time, anywhere. I haven't
	quite got him trained to just cum on command, but we're working on it,
	aren't we, Tom?" He ran the lip of the bottle from Tom's belt buckle down
	and around. It moved out of Harry's line of sight, but from Tom's shiver he
	knew how its path had continued. When Tom didn't answer immediately, Bruno
	thrust with the bottle and repeated, "Aren't we?"

	"Yes, yes, we are," Tom grated out.

	"Shall we show your old shipmate here some of your tricks?" Bruno purred.
	Tom nodded. Another bottle thrust. "I couldn't hear you."

	"Yes. Yes, please." Harry could clearly see the bulge in the front of Tom's
	jeans now. He stifled a gasp of mingled disbelief and sympathy, but he
	couldn't pull his eyes away.

	"Tell the Commander what you want me to do."

	"I want Bruno to fuck me with the bottle," Tom said, his voice catching.

	"Tell him what's gonna happen when I do."

	"I'll cum in my pants."

	"And then?" Bruno coached.

	"Bruno will have to punish me for losing control." Tears ran freely down
	Tom's face. Tom saw Harry's horrified expression and stopped speaking,
	which earned him another bottle thrust. In response, he thrust back with
	his hips and begged, "Please. Fuck me now, Bruno. Please." His cock jumped
	wildly in his jeans, responding to his humiliation with increased arousal.

	"Nah," Bruno demurred. "Tell him how I punish you."

	Tom complied in a choked voice. "He'll spank me with the bottle until it
	breaks. I'll probably cum again while he does it. He'll release my hands
	and I'll put the neck of the bottle up my ass and masturbate myself with it
	until I cum. Then I'll put it in my mouth and ..."

	"Stop!" Harry commanded. Bruno looked at him with a leer.

	"What's the matter, Commander? Can't take even hearing about it?"

	"Quite the contrary," Harry said, folding his hands and getting
	comfortable. "I want to see it, not hear about it." Tom closed his eyes as
	a sob escaped his mouth. 'I can't believe I just said that,' Harry thought.
	'But I had to say something to make Tom stop talking.'

	The small crowd around them murmurred and jockeyed for better viewing
	positions.

	"All right, then," Bruno agreed. Without warning, he began pumping the
	bottle in and out of Tom's ass. Surrendering, Tom thrust in counterpoint,
	moaning almost continuously. Then he stiffened with a cry and a stain began
	spreading from the crotch of his jeans. He hung limply from the grab-hold
	and panted.

	Bruno pulled the bottle out and began a backswing, then checked it. He
	looked around at the audience and saw an opportunity. "Before I spoil him
	for anymore use today, do any of you want a turn with him - for a small
	fee? He's very good with his hands and his mouth as well as with his ass
	muscles, I promise you."

	"Yes," Harry agreed unexpectedly. "I can vouch for that." Another sob came
	from the defeated figure hanging in front of him. Before Bruno could react,
	Harry continued. "How much?"

	"Depends for what," Bruno said slyly. "Right here, right now? Go somewhere
	more private? Take him for the night? What did you have in mind?"

	"How much to buy him - permanently?"

	Astonished, Weirman named an entirely reasonable figure, judging by the
	approving murmurs of the crowd. Harry nodded. He checked the train's
	progress. "My hotel is in Newcastle. Another hour's ride, I'd guess. You'll
	accompany me there and I'll pay you."

	"All right," Weirman agreed.

	"In the meantime," Harry edged forward in his seat and spread his legs,
	"I'd like to ensure you haven't ruined him. Take him down." Weirman pulled
	Tom's arms from the grab-hold. Tom stood shakily, looking warily from one
	man to the other. Harry snapped his fingers and pointed to the space
	between his legs. Tom knelt in the familiar location and looked up for
	instructions. The lost look in the clear blue eyes nearly made Harry forget
	his act. He stroked Tom's head fondly. "Once more for *new* times' sake,"
	he said softly. Tom bowed his head and obeyed.

	***

	Tom had fully demonstrated that he was not "ruined" before the train
	arrived in Newcastle. He slumped exhausted at Harry's feet.

	"Satisfied?" Bruno asked, his own cock aching just from being an observer.

	"You haven't damaged him irreparably," Harry allowed, adding silently 'I
	hope', "but I can see I have my work cut out for me. I wonder if your price
	isn't too high."

	"You have my word that he's not damaged. You can look him over thoroughly
	if you want."

	"In the hotel. We get off at the next stop. Shove the bottle up his ass all
	the way and get him moving."

	***

	Finally, Harry got rid of Weirman. He turned to find Tom cowering on the
	floor where they'd left him after Harry's thorough examination. Dropping
	his mask, he knelt next to the naked man, who flinched back. "Tom, it's me:
	Harry. He's gone now. It's okay."

	Tom stared for a long moment, then relaxed slightly. He looked up at his
	old friend with those lost eyes and said, "Why?"

	"I'm sorry, Tom, I thought I had to do this to get you away from him."

	Tom blinked and processed the words. He nodded slowly. "You did. I just
	don't ... " He dropped his head submissively. "I'm sorry. I have no right
	to question you."

	Harry stroked the lowered head. "It's okay. Ask whatever you want."

	Tom looked at him appraisingly and decided to risk it. "I don't understand
	why you bought me," he said quietly. He checked Harry's expression before
	he continued: sadness, but no trace of anger. "Especially after what you
	saw, after you knew what I've become."

	"I love you."

	"I know. But that wasn't enough before -" Tom stopped abruptly. He took a
	deep, shuddering breath. "What are you going to do with me?"

	Harry wondered how to answer Tom so that he would understand. Finally, he
	decided on the simple truth. "I'm going to bring you home to mother."
	
	End