Title: What If?
	Author: rita (mommacita1@juno.com)
	Rating: NC-17.
	Pairing: P/K.
	Warnings: Semi-non-consensual sex, domanance
	Disclaimer: Tom & Harry aren't mine, I just like to play with them.

	Summary: What if Harry decided to take control of his and Tom's
	relationship - by taking control of Tom's body?

	"Five days of uninterrupted solitude!" Tom Paris marveled. "Alone in a
	shuttle serving as a communications link between the Away Team and Voyager.
	Harry, how ever did you manage this? Normally, I'd be down on the surface
	digging for ore while you were back on Voyager helping Belanna take the
	engines apart. And one of us - at least - would wind up in Sickbay."

	Harry Kim smiled modestly. "Oh, Chakotay kind of wanted to do me a favor. I
	think he was feeling sorry for me," he said evasively. It seemed as good a
	way to bring up the subject as any.

	"Feeling sorry for you?" Tom looked bewildered. "About what?"

	'Good, it worked,' Harry thought. "Well, you know how busy you've been with
	the Delta Flyer lately. I've kind of been on my own and I've been taking a
	lot of ribbing."

	Tom frowned. "I *have* been neglecting you, haven't I? I'm sorry. I'll make
	it up to you now. We'll have plenty of time. But what were you being ribbed
	about?"

	"Being without you."

	"I don't understand."

	Harry sighed. It looked like he'd have to spell it out. "Well, people have
	noticed that we're together most of the time and that where we are and what
	we do is mostly your decision. So when I showed up at Sandrine's a couple
	of nights ago, Ayala asked me if I had your permission to be there." Harry
	shrugged. 'And followed up with a question about whether I was wearing my
	cock-ring and butt-plug, but I'd better not mention that,' he remembered.
	"Anyway," he continued aloud, "Chakotay came to my defense and dressed him
	down. But later, when we were alone -"

	"You and Chakotay were alone?" Tom asked, his eyes narrowing.

	"Relax, Tom, we were *talking*, that's all," Harry replied curtly. "As I
	was saying, Chakotay pointed out that it *did* look like you were totally
	in charge of my life. And, you know, when I thought about it, it's true -
	not just in public. You decide what we do and how we do it in private,
	too."

	"But I only pick things I know you'll like," Tom replied, not denying
	Harry's words.

	"I didn't say I didn't *like* your choices, Tom," Harry reassured him. "At
	least mostly. Just sometimes, maybe, I'd like to make the choices. So, I
	arranged this little getaway."

	"And you want to be in charge." Tom sounded uncertain.

	"Actually, yes. I think after two years, you could take a five-day
	vacation."

	Tom raised an eyebrow at Harry's emphatic tone. "You're really serious
	about this," he said wonderingly. He took a deep breath. Harry was right.
	After two years, Tom ought to be able to trust his lover and best friend.
	He grinned gamely. "Okay, you're right. It's way overdue for 'your turn'."
	He spread his arms out. "I'm yours to do with as you please for the next
	five days."

	"Good," Harry nodded.

	"So, where do we start?"

	***

	Harry watched Tom curled in sleep. Tom *had* tried, he reflected. But he
	didn't know how *not* to take over. Harry sighed. It had gone well while
	Harry carefully avoided anything Tom had not already shown a preference
	for. So well, in fact, that Harry took a little liberties in his stroking.
	And as soon as he stroked down Tom's back and dipped below the waist, Tom
	had reacted.

	"Harry, no, not there. I can't. Auckland." And with those words, Tom took
	over, rolling Harry into an all too familiar position.

	Harry was ready, though. He turned to Plan B: pleasuring Tom the way he
	liked it - which incidentally, Harry enjoyed, too - until Tom fell into a
	deep, exhausted sleep. Harry reached over and stroked the cleft between
	Tom's buttocks. Tom merely murmured and inched away, confirming the depth
	of his sleep. Determinedly, Harry slipped off the bed and to the rear of
	the shuttle.

	***

	Tom awoke to the feeling of a full bladder, not unusual first thing in the
	morning. When he tried to stretch he realized he was strapped by wrists and
	ankles spread-eagle on his back. Naked and exposed to cool air. And the
	fullness in his bladder was increasing. He opened his eyes to - nothing. He
	was blindfolded. But it wasn't until he opened his mouth to protest that
	Harry had gone too far that he felt the gag in his mouth. And the fullness
	in his bladder was spreading down his sphincter. No. What he felt, he knew
	with a horrible certainty, was something *in* his penis, filling it. Only
	then did Tom Paris begin to struggle.

	Harry Kim stroked his lover's hair back from his forehead. "Lie still,
	love," he instructed. "I'm in charge, remember?"

	Tom shook his head violently in negation.

	"Ah, but I am," murmured Harry. "Now, I won't hurt you, I promise. But I am
	going to be in control. Do you want to know what's happening?"

	Tom quieted himself, drawing back from the edge of hysteria. He nodded.

	"All right, then. What you feel is a catheter that's filling your bladder
	with water. I need to know your limits in order not to hurt you. So first
	I'm going to find out what those limits are. Now, I've got a tricorder set
	to stop the water pump when your bladder reads exactly 100% full. Then
	we're going to see what it takes for you to lose control. Do you
	understand?"

	Tom shook his head. He didn't understand at all. Why was Harry doing this?

	Harry sighed. "You're going to wet yourself - lose control of your body. I
	need to know exactly what it takes for that to happen. Ah, you're full."
	Harry moved away from Tom's head and gently pulled the catheter out. Tom
	whimpered around the gag. "That didn't hurt," Harry admonished. "Do you
	understand what's going on now?" he asked.

	Tom shook his head again, fighting panic and tears.

	"Very well. To put it simply, you won't or can't give up control in our
	relationship. So I'm going to take control away from you. First, control of
	your body." Harry realized his voice was rising in irritation and calmed
	himself. "Now, you do have choices, but they're limited. Here's your first
	one. I can use a tube to force-feed you water in measured amounts until you
	lose control. In that case, you'll remain exactly as you are: tied down,
	blind-folded and gagged. However, if you choose, you can drink the water
	voluntarily. In that case, I'll give you back the use of your body and
	allow you to dress. I'll give you a moment to decide while I prepare."

	Harry moved away and Tom lost his battle with his tears. By the time Harry
	returned, they had soaked the blindfold and begun running down the sides of
	his face. Tom jumped when Harry lay something cool on his chest.

	"If you want to cooperate, take the bottle from your chest when I unstrap
	your wrist. If you don't, just lay still and I'll restrap you. Don't think
	about grabbing me, I'm doing this remotely." Harry's voice moved away as he
	spoke.

	Tom's right wrist came free. He hesitated long moments, then reached for
	the bottle.

	"Good choice," Harry said approvingly. "I'll remove your blind-fold and gag
	now. If you actually do cooperate and drink the bottle, I'll release you
	and you can get dressed." Harry suited action to words.

	Tom's eyes were wide with terror as he blinked away the blurring tears.

	"I told you I wouldn't hurt you, Tom," Harry said soothingly. Then he
	turned business-like. "That's a four-ounce bottle. I borrowed it from the
	Wildmans. Some of the water won't make it to your bladder, so I figure on
	measuring in hourly four-ounce increments until you wet yourself. Now
	drink."

	Tom moved the bottle to his mouth, then hesitated.

	"Suck," Harry ordered. "I know you know how to do that."

	Tom did as he was told, then moaned as his penis twitched in response to
	the oral stimulation.

	Harry chuckled. "Yes, your body knows how well you suck." He hardened his
	voice. "Keep drinking. Empty the bottle."

	Tears of humiliation filled Tom's eyes. But he obeyed. When the bottle was
	empty, he held it out to Harry.

	"Good boy," Harry praised him. "Put it back on your chest." He waited while
	Tom put the bottle down. "Now, I need your word you won't try to take over
	if I free you."

	Tom nodded.

	"Not good enough, Tom. Say it. Say that you'll do what I tell you and not
	do what I tell you not to."

	"Why, Harry?"

	"Why?"

	"Why," Tom swallowed hard. "Why are you doing this?"

	"Because I don't want to rape you, Tom. I love you. But it's my turn. And
	I'm going to control you. When we're done with this, we'll move on to the
	next issue. Until you trust me not to hurt you. Until you trust me to be in
	charge."

	"It's not you, Harry, it's me. In prison-"

	"Tom, I don't want to hear it. I know about prison. You've told me for two
	years. Now we're going to get past it."

	Tom was silent for a long time. Get past prison. That would be a very good
	thing. Being brutally honest with himself - and in his current position
	that was much easier than usual - Tom realized he was never going to
	succeed in banishing the influence of those experiences. Maybe Harry
	*could* do it. In a very small voice he asked, "What do I have to do?"

	"It's more what you can't do. You can't use the turbo-flush. You can't
	touch your genitals. What you have to do is drink, from the bottle, every
	hour. Until you wet yourself."

	More silence. Harry waited. Tom fought with himself. Did Harry know how
	closely he was recreating some of Tom's prison life? Probably not. And it
	was Harry, not some brutal thug humiliating him in front of all the other
	thugs for no reason other than that he was beautiful Tom Paris, son of
	Admiral Owen Paris. If he could just keep remembering that. 'It's Harry and
	he's doing it as much for you as for himself,' he chanted to himself,
	turning it into a mantra. "Okay," Tom whispered finally.

	Harry freed his lover. "It's up to you whether you dress or not," he said.

	Tom nodded and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt. Harry handed him the second
	bottle and he drank. Half an hour later, Tom began squirming with
	discomfort, fighting the loss of control. "Please, Harry," he begged,
	looking desperately at the turbo-flush door.

	"No."

	"I'm not forcing it, I swear. I really can't hold it."

	"I believe you."

	"Then why?"
	
	"Because I control what your body does, and where - not you."

	Tom looked at the turbo-flush door again. He looked at Harry. Harry was
	determined, but Tom knew he could best him, even in a fair fight. And in
	his current state, Tom also knew he wouldn't fight fair. Once he started,
	he'd do anything to reach the turbo flush. Anything. Once he started. But
	he had given Harry his word, fully aware of what he was agreeing to.

	Memory of urine gushing out of him after a kick to his bladder rushed into
	his mind. The laughter. The taunts. And what happened afterward. His body
	tightened, ready to fight his way to the turbo-flush. He glanced at Harry,
	sizing him up. Harry was watching him warily. But he wouldn't have a prayer
	once Tom started. If he started. 'It's Harry and he's doing it as much for
	you as for himself,' Tom reminded himself. He forced his body to relax and
	slumped against a console.

	A few minutes later, Tom sank to the floor with a sob, as his bladder
	emptied itself despite his best efforts. He waited for the jeering remarks
	as Harry approached him.

	Placidly, Harry removed his wet shorts and cleaned him with a warm wet
	cloth, then dried him and placed the towel under him.

	Tom pulled the end of the towel up between his legs, covering himself, and
	looked up. "What now?" he asked dully.

	Harry lowered himself to sit opposite the resigned man. "Did I hurt you?"

	"No."

	"Do you hate me?"

	"No, Harry, I could never hate you." A small smile quirked Tom's mouth.
	"Right now I don't like you very much though."

	Harry smiled back. "I still want to be in charge. Will you do what I tell
	you now?"

	Tom hesitated. Harry hadn't mocked him, hadn't taken advantage of the
	humiliation. He'd simply made his point: he was in control. Tom sighed,
	then nodded. He was too drained to fight now and Harry seemed to have the
	whole thing planned anyway.

	"Pull the towel down."

	Tom flushed, but obeyed.

	"I'm going to fill you again," Harry said getting the water pump and
	catheter. "Spread your legs." Harry inserted the catheter and started the
	pump.

	Tom moaned and leaned back against the shuttle wall. 'It's Harry and he's
	doing it as much for you as for himself.'

	Harry felt himself starting to get hard as he watched his lover.
	"Masturbate," he ordered.

	"I - I don't know if I can like this, Harry. I-"

	"Do it."

	Tom bit his lip and reached between his legs. "May I close my eyes?" he
	asked.

	Harry was tempted to let him, but it was too early to risk losing the
	advantage. "No," he forced himself to say.

	Tom nodded and began stroking himself, feeling the catheter and pulsing
	water within. He came erect rapidly, lengthening and hardening around the
	tubing, watching himself.

	When the tricorder beeped, Harry was barely aware of it. "Keep going," he
	gasped, his organ straining at his pants, when Tom faltered.

	Tom continued his strokes, feeling the water moving within him with each
	stroke. With a choked cry he stiffened, his buttocks rising from the towel
	as he jerked and shuddered in climax, unable to ejaculate.

	The sight of his lover in sexual frenzy brought Harry to the edge and he
	barely had time to rise and pull out his engorged cock before he was
	shooting semen directly into Tom's face. As soon as he recovered enough
	muscle control, Harry pulled the catheter from Tom's writhing body.

	Tom stiffened with a scream, his eyes going wide, as he shot a mixture of
	semen and water across the shuttle. With a final shudder, he went limp on
	the soaked towel.

	***

	Tom awoke in the same position he had been in when he awoke earlier that
	day. The tricorder beeped and Tom felt the pulsing of the water stop and
	the catheter being pulled out.

	"Who's in charge?" Harry asked.

	Tom realized he wasn't gagged. "You are," he whispered. His restraints came
	loose.

	"Urinate."

	Tom pressed his lips together to prevent his protest from escaping. He
	forced his sphincter to obey the command and warm urine seeped around him.

	"Now jerk yourself off."

	As he reached to obey, he realized he had not been cleaned this time. His
	face was stiff with Harry's cum and his pubic area with his own. Somehow
	that further degradation only served to arouse him. Despite the fact that
	his penis was sore from the repeated catheter invasions, he quickly brought
	himself to the peak.

	Harry stood with his own penis in hand, stroking in time to his lover's
	beat. As Tom arched in the final throes of his climax, Harry, too, let go,
	their streams crossing on Tom's chest. Harry recovered and watched Tom's
	body still itself. When it was relaxed, Harry, raised his penis again and
	urinated up and down Tom's body.

	Harry redressed himself before speaking. "Remove the blind-fold." He
	watched Tom look from his wet and encrusted body to Harry's neat uniform
	and redden in shame. "Go and shower," Harry said, turning away.

	The shuttle was pristine when Tom emerged from the shower. He was dry, but
	naked, Harry noted approvingly, looking up from the replicator he had just
	finished programming. "Hungry?" Harry asked.

	Tom nodded.

	"Come and eat, then." Harry indicated the table, where he had set two
	places.

	Tom seated himself and the two ate silently for a time. Finally Tom spoke.
	"Is it all going to be like this?" he asked quietly.

	Harry considered. "Not all," he said ambiguously. At Tom's subdued nod, he
	relented. "And not much more tonight." Tom looked relieved and grateful.
	"You can get dressed if you want to," Harry added graciously.

	"Only if you want me to," Tom replied evenly. He looked Harry directly in
	the eyes, letting him know he meant it and wasn't just saying what he
	thought Harry wanted to hear.

	"Actually, I'd prefer it if you stayed naked."

	Tom nodded agreeably and began clearing the table. Harry openly admired
	Tom's body, reaching out to stroke him as he moved back and forth. Tom
	forced himself not to pull away. He remembered the many times he'd done the
	same thing to Harry, in Sandrine's, at the resort. Harry would blush and
	everyone around would laugh. 'Yes,' Tom decided, 'I deserve this. I wonder
	what else I've put Harry through that I wouldn't stand for?' He sighed
	inwardly. He had the feeling he'd find out during the next few days.

	"You're probably at least as tired as I am, but I'd like a massage to help
	me relax," Harry said when Tom returned to the table.

	"'Kay. You brought oil?"

	"In the storage locker near the bunk."

	Harry undressed while Tom prepared the oil. He made Tom work hard, wanting
	him to sleep soundly again. Finally, Harry rolled to a sitting position on
	the side of the bed and indicated Tom should kneel between his legs, one of
	Tom's favorite positions for Harry. The irony was not lost on Tom. Yes, he
	was going to learn all the ways he had taken Harry's acquiescence for
	granted.

	"Suck me off," Harry ordered, almost unnecessarily. Harry made it last as
	long as he could, sitting passively and being pleasured until he could bear
	it no longer. Then he grabbed the back of Tom's head and thrust down his
	throat as he came.

	Harry held Tom's shoulders until he could support himself again. Then he
	pulled Tom upright and played with his erection. Letting go with a final
	tug, Harry ordered, "Come."

	To Tom's surprise, he did, in short, quick spurts that relieved and relaxed
	him.

	"Now clean up and come to bed."

	Tom climbed into the bunk and curled around Harry. Harry pulled Tom's arms
	around him and Tom impulsively kissed his lover's neck.

	"No, Tom," Harry said regretfully.

	"Sorry, I just wanted you to know I wasn't angry," came the quiet voice.

	"It's okay," Harry allowed, reaching back to pat his lover. "But not while
	I'm in charge. Not unless I say so."

	"I understand. Good night, Harry."

	***

	Tom was surprised to find himself unrestrained in the morning. The water
	pump and catheter were lying next to him, however, which did not surprise
	him. Without rising, he looked around for Harry.

	"You're already pretty full," Harry said without preamble. "So I want you
	to empty yourself so we can start fresh."

	Tom did as he was told, wetting himself and the bed. Then he spread his
	legs to allow Harry room to work.

	Efficiently, Harry inserted the catheter and started the pump. "You have
	some more choices to make this morning, Tom," Harry continued as he watched
	Tom's penis respond to the now-familiar invasion. "And these choices will
	affect how the rest of our time here goes."

	Tom was no longer watching his cock grow rigid. Harry had Tom's full
	attention, as he intended.

	"You can roll over onto your side and stimulate yourself anally while you
	masturbate," Harry began.

	All of Tom's resolutions and good intentions left him. All he heard was,
	'Perform for us, pretty boy.' All he could respond was, "No, no, no, no,
	no."

	"You might want to hear the alternative before you decide," Harry remarked
	dryly.

	'Perform for us or we'll get what we want the hard way,' Tom's memory
	interpreted. Tom shook his head.

	Harry shrugged. The tricorder beeped, but did not turn the pump off. Harry
	made no move to turn it off either. Tom's eyes widened and his glance
	flickered from Harry to the pump and back. "Who's in control, Tom?" Harry
	said softly.

	"You are. Please. I'm sorry."

	Harry cut him off, the pump still going. "Roll over onto your side, Tom."

	"You said you wouldn't hurt me!"

	"I won't. You have to trust me now."

	Tom was frantic. His eyes were mesmerized by the pump, continuing to fill
	him. He could feel the back-wash into his penis now, double pulses arousing
	him to complete rigidity. "Is it too late?" he asked plaintively.

	"Too late for what?"

	"What - what is the other choice?"

	"This." Harry held up a small dildo.

	Tom shuddered. 'You'll perform, pretty boy. You'll learn to take the easy
	way - if you survive long enough.' His hand twitched as he tried to obey
	Harry, but he couldn't force his body to do this again. He literally
	couldn't move. "I - I *can't*, Harry. I want to obey you, but I can't."

	Roll onto your side, Tom, facing away from me," Harry repeated. When Tom
	finally obeyed, Harry stopped the pump, removed it from the catheter, and
	pulled Tom's hand to the catheter.

	Tom nodded his understanding and began to twist the catheter, gently
	rocking it in and out as he did so. He whimpered as he became aroused at
	the sensation, falling into a steady rhythm and moaning softly.

	Harry waited until Tom was fully engrossed in his self-pleasure. Then he
	began gently kneading Tom's buttocks, working his was towards the cleft.
	Reaching it, he stroked inward as he separated the cheeks, rimming Tom's
	tight anus repeatedly until it relaxed slightly. He pushed the small,
	well-lubed dildo gently against the entry, finally inserting it. Tom began
	to cry, but continued to masturbate with the catheter.

	Slowly, Harry pushed the dildo further in, using the same rhythm Tom was.
	Finally, the dildo was fully engaged, gently rubbing Tom's prostate. Now
	Tom was thrusting back and forth against the dildo, while Harry held it
	still. The rhythm became wild and Harry hurriedly pulled the catheter out
	of Tom's hands and penis. Tom was too far gone to notice. He came with a
	scream and collapsed bonelessly onto the bunk.

	Harry quickly removed the dildo and began stroking Tom's back, quieting his
	shudders and the racking sobs that came from deep within. After a time, Tom
	rasped, "Go on."

	"What?"

	"Go on. Fuck me."

	"No, Tom, I won't. That *would* be rape."

	"No, go ahead. While I'm open."

	"You want me to?"

	Tom hesitated. 'It's Harry and he's doing it as much for you as for
	himself.' "Yes, yes I do."

	"Why?" Harry was rubbing his cock in Tom's cleft now, but hesitated to go
	further. "You won't enjoy it."

	"No," Tom admitted. "But you won't hurt me. I trust you. And that, that's
	the ultimate in control, isn't it?"
	
	"You want me to control you?"

	"Yes." This time there was no hesitation in Tom's voice.

	Harry plunged in with no further hesitation. He didn't take long, only long
	enough not to be brutal.

	***

	Tom walked into his quarters and into pitch blackness. "Computer, lights,
	50%," he ordered.

	"They won't work, Tom."

	"Har - Harry?"

	"Strip."

	"But, I thought -"

	"You thought five days would be enough?"

	"Yes." Tom's voice was a mere whisper.

	"You've had two years. Now, strip."

	Tom obeyed. He stood trembling, trying to remember that Harry wouldn't hurt
	him.

	Then Harry's low voice continued, "And there's something I forgot to tell
	you."

	"What?"

	"Something Ayala mentioned when he was teasing me." Harry closed on Tom.
	"Something about a cock ring and a butt plug."

	Tom wet himself.

	End