The room they were ushered into looked like some mad designer’s idea of a Roman orgy room.  Couches and loungers were scattered everywhere, along with other pieces of furniture whose uses Archer did not even want to try and guess at.  It was evident that Trip had been here before; Archer could feel him tense up, and for a brief second, he saw fear in the younger man’s eyes.  What the hell did they do to you?  He leaned over, whispered into his ear.  “Trip.  Trust me.  I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

A round raised stage stood in the center of the room.  Trip avoided looking at it, and Archer was more than ever convinced that something terrible had happened to Trip here.  He was starting to get an idea of what it might have been, and he was appalled and disgusted. 

Aware of his host’s watchful eyes on them, he lightly kissed Trip on the cheek.  “Hang in there,” he murmured. 

For the first time, Trip spoke.  His voice was low and tremulous, and Archer had to strain to hear him.  “I know, Captain.  It’s okay.  I understand.”

God, I hope that’s true.  “I’ll try not to hurt you,” Archer said gently.  Seeing his hosts’ eyes upon them, he kissed Trip again. 

“It’s okay,” Trip murmured in response.  “I’ve had worse.”  There was something so unutterably dreadful about the matter-of-fact way he said this that Archer wanted to scream, to strike out at someone - anyone.  Instead, he gave Trip a comforting squeeze of the hand. 

One of the household servants approached him.  “May I take your robe, Sir?”  Suppressing a sigh, Archer slipped out of his heavy outer clothing.  Now, he was clad only in a light linen robe.  He and Trip were shown to one of the loungers near the stage.  It had the best view, and Archer knew that this was reserved for the guest of honor.

His host and hostess took positions on other loungers.  They lay back, preparing to enjoy the show.

Archer imitated them, laying on his side.  He patted the lounge.  “Come, pet,” he invited, loudly enough for the two Tasumi to hear.

Trip obeyed, sitting on the edge of the lounger.  Archer gently pulled the engineer to him.  Trip surrendered.  He lay on his side so that his back was resting against Archer’s chest, and passively allowed Archer to spoon up against him. 

Despite all of his assurances, Archer knew that the younger man was still frightened, as he could feel him trembling.  He began to gently nibble on his ear.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, for Trip’s ears alone, between nibbles.  “I’m sorry, Trip.  But I won’t let them hurt you.  That’s a promise.”  Trip’s trembling lessened, although it did not completely vanish.  “I’ll try and make this as easy as I can.” Archer said.  Then, louder, for the benefit of his hosts, he said, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, pet?”  Trip nodded, mutely.

The first act was an troupe of acrobats.  They tumbled and cavorted all around the room.  Had the circumstances been different, Archer might have been able to enjoy the show they put on.  However, he was acutely aware that his host and hostess were watching him more closely than they were the entertainment.  Not only his hosts; the retinue of servants and squadron of armed guards who had followed into the room were also watching, waiting, expecting.

Obviously, he was going to have to put on an exhibition of his own in order to lay to rest any last lingering doubts that they had.  He had hoped that his behavior during dinner would have been enough, but clearly it had not. 

One misstep, and there would be trouble.  Serious trouble.  None of these thoughts showed on his face, however; to all outward appearances, he looked relaxed, nonchalant, and preparing to enjoy all manner of entertainments.

He rested on one elbow, propping his chin in his hand.  He draped the other arm with casual possessiveness over Trip.  And now, he began to allow his hand to roam across the younger man, gently caressing him.  He trailed light fingers across his chest, his waist, and his stomach.  Trip shifted slightly at this. 

Archer’s touch began to become more insistent, less casual.  He allowed himself to explore the soft mat of hair on Trip’s chest, lightly brushing it, causing Trip to shiver.  He hoped that this shiver was of pleasure, not of fear.  Gently, he took one of Trip’s nipples in between his thumb and forefinger, began to manipulate it.  Trip closed his eyes, clenched his jaw.  His hands tightened around the edge of the couch.  Archer continued to tease him throughout the rest of the acrobatics act. 

When they had finished their last stunt, and taken their bows, Archer took time away from his attentions to Trip long enough to ring the small bell that stood on the table by his couch.  This was the form of applause used on this planet.  There were several other items on the table, none of which he had any intention of using.

The acrobats were now followed by a pair of jugglers, who managed  an increasingly difficult number and types of items as their routine progressed.  Archer felt somewhat sorry for them; all eyes were on him and Trip instead of on their antics.  He wished it could be otherwise, but knew that mere wishing would not make it happen.

He leaned back until the back of the lounge supported him.  He then slipped his other arm under Trip, and pulled him tight against him.  Now both of his hands were busy, one on each one of Trip’s nipples.  Trip sighed, moaned slightly, but Archer did not stop.

Some musicians replaced the jugglers.  The resultant melodies were haunting and sweet, and Archer again wished that he was experiencing these entertainments under vastly different circumstances.  Using the sound of the music as a cover, Archer leaned forward.  Seeming to tickle Trip’s ear with his tongue, he said, “I wish I wasn’t forced to do this to you, believe me.”

“It’s all right, Captain,” Trip whispered back.  “Better you than someone else.”  God, Archer thought, nearly incoherent with rage, I’d like to kill these people!  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, helplessly.  “If there were any other way ... “

Trip nodded.  Archer promised himself that, since it was inevitable, he would try at the very least to give Trip some pleasure.  So far, it seemed that he was. 

Trip was starting to squirm in his embrace.  Archer continued to nibble on his ears and kiss his neck.  One hand kept on concentrating on the engineer’s nipples, while the other traveled slowly, teasingly, down his stomach.  Archer allowed only the very tips of his fingers to brush Trip’s groin before his hand wandered up and down his legs, and then up to stroke his ass.  He then dipped down between his legs for a brief, tantalizing contact before starting to explore the rest of him again.  Trip whimpered, deep in his throat, and rocked against him.

A singer now joined the musicians.  She had a lovely voice, and an impressive range.  She sang beautiful, wordless melodies, and the sound of her voice filled the hall, drowning out Trip’s soft moans. 

The younger man was beginning to become erect.  He moaned, and his hips shifted.  Archer had no pity on him; instead, he continued the slow, slow torture, making Trip wait, forcing patience upon him.

Lady Vala looked across at them.  “For someone who has had to delay as long as you have, Captain,” she said, “you are certainly taking your time.  I congratulate you on your restraint.”

Archer smiled.  He knew what she was getting at, but he wasn’t going to fall for it.  “I like to play,” he told her.  “Sometimes, I will spend all afternoon or evening, just playing with him.”  He ran a hand down Trip’s chest and stomach.  “He’s exquisite, isn’t he?” he asked, looking fondly at Trip.  “My beautiful golden boy.  And it gives me so much pleasure to see him like this.  So ravishing, so helpless.  Waiting for me.  Dependent on me.  Needing me to bring him relief.”  So put that in your pipe and smoke it.  “And he likes it too, don’t you, pet?”

And for the first time, Trip spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.  “Yes, Master.”  Archer fleetingly wondered how anyone in their right mind could really be stupid enough to think that Trip would actually enjoy being put on display like this.  But evidently, the Lord and Lady over there had never thought to stop and consider it; they simply accepted Trip’s moaning agreement as fact.

Trip whimpered, loudly.  “Now, now, pet,” Archer admonished.  “I’m your master again, and you are going to have to relearn patience, aren’t you?  Fortunately, I am happy to teach you.”  God, this sounds like dialogue from a bad porno.  But it was satisfying the two voyeurs over there, and that was all that mattered.  And he continued caressing Trip, playing with his nipples and lightly teasing his sex. 

Trip arched his back, moaning with delight. He spoke, and his voice was thick with pleasure and need.  “Master, please!”

“Wait, my pet,” Archer told him.  “We have all night to play.”

At this, Lady Vala called Al-Saahn over.  After a brief consultation, he in turn approached Archer.  “With my Mistress’s compliments,” he said, proffering a small jar.  He took the lid off.  Inside, lightly scented oil gleamed.  “My mistress says to tell you that if you will apply this to your pet, you will find the results to be most rewarding.”

Archer wanted nothing to do with any of this, but to refuse now would be to go against the picture he had so carefully painted; that of a Master who delighted in teasing his slave into paroxysms of ecstasy.  “Tell your Mistress her gift is appreciated,” he said formally, and took the jar.  “Pet,” he said quietly but firmly.  Trip, hearing the implicit order, lay on his back and waited. 

Archer took a small amount of the oil between his thumb and forefinger.  It tingled slightly, and he could imagine what it would do to Trip, stimulated as he already was.  He leaned forward.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  Trip opened his eyes, looked up at him, and nodded almost imperceptibly.  Archer kissed him, then slowly began to apply the stimulant oil to Trip’s nipples.

Trip gasped and arched his back in response.  “Master!” he cried.  Archer did not respond to his plea; instead, he continued to mercilessly manipulate the engineer’s nipples.  The oil obviously intensified the sensations the younger man was experiencing.  Trip whined with pleasure, and his head moved helplessly from side to side.  He writhed underneath Archer’s touch, and then cried aloud.

Aware of the Volashas’ regard, Archer smiled down on Trip.  “Perhaps I should stop now,” he said, teasing him.

“No, Master,” Trip moaned, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear.  “Please.”

“You don’t want me to stop?”  God, I only wish I could.

“Master, please don’t stop.  Please.”

“Then I’m going to make you wait, my beauty,” Archer warned him, playing his role to the hilt, so to speak.  He continued to fondle Trip as he spoke.  “No mercy.”

“Yes, Master,” Trip whimpered.  “I know.  No mercy.”

“I’m going to play with you, pet.  Until my touch is the only thing you know.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m going to teach you patience, all over again.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m going to make you beg me for release.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And every time you beg, I’m going to make you wait just a little longer.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And then I’m going to take you.  Right here on this couch.  With everyone watching.”  And may God – and Trip – forgive me for that.

“Yes, Master.”

“You’re going to scream, my pet,” Archer informed him.  “You’re going to scream with pleasure, loud enough that the entire household is going to hear those screams, and everyone is going to know what’s happening to you.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And I’m going to watch you beg and scream, my beauty.  And when I get tired of watching, I may allow you to come.  Or I may play with you all night long.  It will be my choice.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Very well.”  And he took more of the oil, and applied it to Trip’s erection, using only one fingertip.  At this touch, Trip arched his back again, and cried out.

Archer, however, was merciless.  He continued to subject Trip to this sweet torture, using his hands and tongue until the younger man was writhing in ecstatic agony. 

There was a dancer on stage now, but she could have been standing still for all the attention she was getting; all eyes were riveted on Trip, as Archer continued his slow attentions.  Archer, aware of this, sighed unhappily.  Better make this a good show, he thought.  At least he was giving Trip some pleasure.  But he was certain all of this was something Trip would happily forego, if he could.  Unfortunately, neither one of them had any choice.

He continued until Trip was on the very edge of orgasm.  He then pulled him back from the brink, causing Trip to whimper in frustration.

“You have to wait, pet,” Archer reminded him.

“Yes, Master,” Trip moaned.  His head turned helplessly from side to side.  His hands were clenched, and his entire body was as taut as a drawn bowstring.  He really is beautiful, Archer thought abstractedly.  He allowed himself to react to that beauty, and he could feel himself stirring for the first time.  At least I won’t have to take Phlox’s potion, he thought.  It would have been difficult to explain why the big bad Jonathon Archer needed help in that area.  Fortunately, it looked like that wasn’t going to be a problem. 

Again, he drew one teasing finger along the erect shaft that was in need of attention.  Trip squirmed.

“Lie still,” he commanded Trip.  By not allowing Trip the release of movement, his tension – and pleasure – would only increase.

“Master, no,” Trip whimpered.  “Please.”

“Are you begging me, pet?”

Trip arched his back in reply.  Archer tapped his shoulder.  “Pet,” he said, warningly.  “I told you to keep still.”

“Yes, Master.”  And somehow, Trip managed to obey.

“You’re begging me, are you?”

“Oh, yes, please!” Trip moaned.

“What did I tell you?”

“That my Master would make me wait if I were to beg,” Trip gasped.

“That’s right, my beauty.”

“Shall I make you wait, then?”

“If my Master wishes it,” Trip panted.

“Good, pet,” Archer praised him.  “Have you learned patience yet?”

“I’m trying, Master,” he moaned in reply.  Archer leaned down, took one tortured nipple in his mouth, began running his tongue back and forth across the erect nub.

His hands slipped down, caressing, stroking, and causing Trip to whimper with inarticulate delight.

Archer lifted his head.  “Only my touch, pet.”

“Yes, Master,” Trip managed to reply.

“More, beautiful?”

“Please, please, please!” Trip cried out.

“Shall I take you now, pet?”  He wished to God that he didn’t have to.  Trip’s hands clenched, and Archer placed his over them, preventing Trip from making any more movements. 

“Take me,” Trip moaned.  “Make me scream, Master.”

Archer bent, kissed Trip roughly on the lips.  “Trip -,” he began in a hoarse whisper, uncertain what else to say.

“Do me,” Trip managed to whisper back.  “I’d rather it was you, Captain, than ...” he didn’t continue.  Archer was appalled.  How bad must it have been for Trip, that this was his best option?

“Really.” Trip sighed.  “Do me, so we can get the hell out of here, okay?”  And he whimpered again, closed his eyes.

“That’s a deal,” Archer whispered in his ear, then kissed him again.  Loudly, he said, “I’m going to take you now.  And I’m not going to stop until you’re exhausted.  I’m going to use you until you can’t move anymore.  You’re going to scream yourself hoarse with pleasure, pet.”

“Yes, Master,” Trip moaned.  “Please!”  And without being told to, he rolled on his side.  Archer undid his own robe, but did not remove it.  He knew it would not be fitting for him to expose himself to his hosts.

Archer made sure Trip was ready for him.  He used some of the oil to ensure that Trip would not have any pain, only pleasure, when he entered him.  He positioned himself behind Trip, and then slowly, carefully, pushed his way inside.  Trip gasped, as he was being stimulated from within.  I’m sorry, Archer thought, God, I am sorry, Trip.  And slowly, deliberately, he began to move.  One hand continued to torment Trip’s nipples, while the other fondled his erect sex.

Trip was gasping.  He rocked back and forth, impaled as he was on the Captain.  His awareness had dwindled down to the hand torturing his nipples, the other teasing his erect shaft, and Archer moving within him.  It was as the Captain had promised; no consciousness except for that touch, and no release until Archer allowed it. 

He had no idea how long it went on.  He realized, dimly, that it must be continuing for some time; the Captain brought him to the edge and then pulled him back several times. 

He heard himself begging, begging for mercy, for release.  Neither was forthcoming.  Now he was indeed screaming, imploring Archer for a reprieve.  The Captain’s response was to only torment him further. 

Trip found himself writhing, moaning, screaming, while the Captain’s clever, relentless, ruthless hands played his body as expertly as a master musician would a violin concerto.  Archer’s voice broke into the white ecstasy that had become his awareness.  “Do you want relief, pet?”

Oh, yes, he wanted relief.  He wasn’t sure he could stand much more; he was afraid it would kill him.  “Master,” he managed to gasp, remembering where he was and who was watching. 

“Answer me, pet.”

“Only if it pleases you, Master,” he whimpered. 

Evidently, this was the answer the Captain had been waiting for; he began to pump harder, and for the first time, the hand on his cock was moving rhythmically as opposed to touching, teasing, stopping, and then teasing some more.  He felt the older man moan, and stiffen against him, and knew that Archer had finally come.  He felt insanely jealous; damn it, why wasn’t he allowed the same sweet relief?

Archer slowed his manipulations, forcing Trip to wait.  Finally, he relented, and started working on him in earnest.  It took no time at all; he felt Trip pulse in his hand, and the engineer’s slender body stiffened and jerked as his orgasm thundered through him.

Trip cried out and arched his back as it hit.  He knew he had been ordered not to move, but he couldn’t help himself.  His climax hit him with the force of a phaser blast, and he thought dimly that it was a miracle that the top of his head hadn’t blown off.

Slowly, he came back down from the heights the Captain had brought him to.  He could feel Archer, gently rubbing his back, and nibbling on his ears and neck, whispering words of reassurance and comfort. 

A household servant appeared and wiped him down.  Trip lay passively, submitting to the ritual cleaning.  He knew better than to protest.  He was also dimly aware of applause, and realized that the Lord and Lady had been impressed.

Archer sighed.  Hopefully, that was that.  Now, maybe, they could leave.  Idly, he ran his hand across Trip, and down his stomach.  The younger man must be exhausted, he thought. 

Suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise.  You have got to be kidding, he thought.  He looked down to confirm what his touch told him.

“Yes,” Lady Vala said, proudly.  “I told you that we had trained him.  Are you not pleased?”

Archer looked at the impressive erection Trip was still sporting. Christ, no!

However, his expression was one of pleased surprise.  I ought to get some kind of acting award when this is done, he thought with tired amusement.  He kissed Trip.

“My goodness, pet,” he said, mildly, “You are greedy tonight, aren’t you?”

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