This is my first piece of slash fanfiction. Heck, it‘s the first piece of fanfiction that I‘ve shown anybody. Be kind, please. Thanks are owed to my beta readers for their patience (and for actually sitting through the first draft)

Highly inspired by MegaRed‘s Sentinel slash story, Tres Sheik

Harem Boy
by Lianne Burwell

October 1997

"I‘ve located Mr. Paris, Captain"

Over the commlink, Neelix‘s normally cheerful voice was solemn.

Janeway braced herself to hear the worst.

Two days earlier Voyager had arrived at Keerath, a planet of high technology, and apparently peaceful. Tuvok had led an away mission to negotiate for foodstuffs, which was Voyager‘s greatest need at the moment. During the negotiations the away team had been split up for tours of various parts of the capital city. But when the negotiations had been concluded and the away team had regrouped to return to Voyager, Paris had been missing. Following the signal from his commbadge, all that was located was the badge with some fragments of his uniform still attached.

Tuvok had immediately returned to Voyager with the rest of the away team to begin scans of the planet‘s surface. No human life signs had been detected by ship‘s sensors, but several areas of the city, mainly the estates of the upper-class, were shielded so strongly that sensors could not read past them.

When official inquiries had come up empty, the Captain had asked Neelix to beam down to the surface to investigate. Talaxians were not common in this area of the sector, but there were enough that Neelix would not be immediately associated with Voyager.

"Report, Mr Neelix"

"Mr Paris was apparently taken by slavers. He was sold to a nobleman by the name of Yoran and apparently has a taste for offworlders. His tastes also do not leave their targets intact for long, it seems. He also has a great deal of power and is more likely to... dispose of Mr Paris than to agree to return him. My information suggests that Mr Paris is at his main estate, just outside of the city."

Janeway sighed. At least Tom wasn‘t dead, but this was definitely not good. "Thank you, Neelix. Please see what information you can get about this estate. Its layout and security measures."

"Of course, Captain. I‘m already doing so. Neelix out."

Janeway glanced around the table at her bridge officers. "Suggestions, anyone?"

"I would recommend a rescue mission, and quickly Captain."

Everyone looked at Tuvok in surprise. Normally the quiet Vulcan could be counted on to recommend exhausting all other possibilities before resorting to force. Janeway looked at him, questioningly.

"I met Yoran during the negotiations. From what I observed of him, I must concur with Mr Neelix‘s appraisal. He seemed very confident in his position. Almost arrogant. Also, the lack of response from the Keerathan government indicates that they are not inclined to intervene. If we wish to recover Lieutenant Paris a rescue mission must be mounted, and soon."

"If we wish...!?" Harry sounded outraged.

"At ease, Mr Kim," the captain said gently. "Tuvok is not suggesting we abandon Tom."

"Captain," spoke Chakotay. "I agree with Tuvok. And I‘d like to lead the rescue party."

Kathryn looked at her first officer, surprised. Chakotay and Tom always seemed to rub each other the wrong way, and Chakotay had never been good about hiding the hostility he felt towards the pilot, although that hostility had been gradually disappearing as the younger man had proved himself in defense of the ship.


"In my days with the Maquis I led several rescue missions into Cardassian prison camps, so I have experience with this sort of operation. Besides," one corner of his mouth quirked up into a slightly sarcastic smile. "This my be my chance to discharge the life debt I owe to Paris."

"Permission granted, Commander. Assemble a team and then contact Neelix for any information he can get. And good luck."

* * * * *

Tom Paris opened his eyes with a groan. He was beginning to think he should refuse to leave the ship. It seemed like every time he did he ended up in jail or trapped in spatial anomalies or mutating or trapped in cave-ins with crazed Klingons or... He cut off that line of thought.

Checking, he quickly discovered that his communicator was gone, as was his phaser. And most of his clothing. In fact, all he had on were his shorts. This was not a good thing.

Thinking back, he tried to figure out where he was and how he got there. There had been a reception when they had arrived and like the others in the away-team he had worked at being as charming as possible. He liked to think he had succeeded. He‘d even received a few discreet propositions. Not that he was interested in taking anyone up on their offers. Past experiences had shown that it wouldn‘t be a good idea. Besides... there was only one person he wanted to have proposition him... Don‘t go there, Paris. It‘s not going to happen.

Afterwards there had been the offers of tours. Not wanting to offend, the away team had agreed. Besides, the city was quite beautiful. During the tour, however, they had gradually been separated, almost without realizing it. Finally Tom had been alone with one of their guides. He remembered stoping to admire a fountain in one of the many ornate parks, and then feeling a sting to the back of his neck. Now he had a headache and the groggy feeling that indicated tranquilizers.

Tom sighed and stood up, stopping to wait for the dizziness to fade, then examined his surroundings. He was in some sort of bed-chamber. The only door was locked and there were no windows. In fact, he had no idea what time it was or how long it had been since he had been drugged. While he was checking behind tapestries in the vain hope of finding some sort of secret exit, the door opened behind him.

"Ah good! You‘re awake. We were beginning to worry. You‘ve been unconcious for more than a day. But then, who knew that a simple knockout drug would affect a... human? so greatly."

Tom turned to see a Keerathan in ornate robes enter the room, followed by an armed guard and several servants carrying a large tub.

"Who are you, where am I and what am I doing here?" Tom was too angry to be polite. Besides, he was also starting to get a little scared.

"You are in the household of My Lord Yoran, and I am the manager of his estate. And you are here to please him, of course."

Tom sighed. This was getting worse by the moment. "My ship is not going to stop looking for me until they find me."

"Oh, they will give up eventually. There is no way for them to find you. And now! My Lord will be back before morning and you must be prepared for him." The officious little man gestured towards the tub that had been quietly filled with water when he wasn‘t looking.

"I am not preparing for anything!" Tom was definitely getting angry here. The drugged feeling was starting to fade and he would be damned if he was going to cooperate with whatever the hell was going on here.

The Keerathan sighed and turned to the servants. "Prepare him," he said and left the room. The servants, who definitely outweighed Tom, advanced. Not having anywhere to go his remaining piece of clothing was stripped from him and was dropped into the tub. He was quickly scrubbed clean.

Finally he was allowed out of the tub and was handed towels to dry himself with. At least they hadn‘t insisted on doing that for him too, he thought with a sigh. Then he looked at the clothing they were laying out on the bed.

"You want me to wear what?!?"

* * * * *

Chakotay worked quickly to assemble a team. First choice had been Maquis crewmembers he had worked with on previous rescue missions. He also added a couple of Tuvok‘s security personnel to satisfy the Vulcan. As a precaution they all changed out of their uniforms. Even though they would be obviously human, if they were captured, at least it would be possible for the Captain to deny knowledge of the attempt.

He sighed as he headed for the transporter room to meet with the rest of his team to beam down to the surface. Part of him was angry at Paris for getting himself, and Voyager, into this mess, even though it probably wasn‘t his fault. After all, it wasn‘t really the man‘s fault that he was so damn gorgeous...

Don‘t go there Chakotay. It‘s never going to happen.

* * * * *

That night, Chakotay‘s team moved on Yoran‘s estate. Neelix had managed to acquire rough plans of the estate and some sketchy details on the security system. And even that much information had been expensive to obtain. One of the Maquis, an electronics expert, was able to slip them through the security system without setting off alarms. Once inside, they were relieved to find that the damping field that had prevented them from scanning the estate from outside did not stop scans once they were inside the compound. As a result they were able to use tricorders to lead them to Paris and avoid security patrols and servants.

The human life signs led them to the central building and deep inside into areas decorated lushly and expensively (But with a distinct lack of taste, Chakotay thought). Several times they had to stop to slip through more security systems. This Yoran was certainly paranoid. Finally the scans led them to a doorway with two guards outside. The guards were quickly stunned and while his team hid the unconscious men and kept an eye out for trouble, Chakotay opened the door.

And stopped dead with a sudden urge to giggle. Either that or drool.

The only piece of furniture in the room was what had to be the largest bed he had ever seen. It was covered with a white spread and piled high with large white pillows. White tapestries covered the walls. In fact, there was far too much white in the room, especially considering the room‘s only inhabitant. Nearly transparent white drapes partially shielded the occupant of the bed, Tom Paris.

Tom was naked from the waist up. Gold bands circled his upper arms and intricate gold designs were painted across his shoulders and collarbone, starting just above the fine curls that covered his chest. A belt hung almost indecently low on his hips. Hanging from it was a cloth-of-gold loincloth that barely covered his genitals. Strips of silk, almost the same color of blue as his eyes, were attached to the belt and gathered at the ankles creating the look of pantaloons, but hiding nothing of his legs.

And, Great Spirits, there was some sort of gemstone imbedded in Paris‘ navel, and more gold designs were painted in the area around it. It was an outfit that definitely showed all of Paris‘ assets to best effect. He looked even more naked than he would have if he were wearing nothing at all.

More disturbing, though, were the gold-colored manacles around his wrists and ankles, tightly binding them together, and the chain that went from the wrists manacles to the bed‘s headboard. That and the look of fear in the pilot‘s eyes. Fear that quickly turned to relief.

"Commander! Boy, am I glad to see you."

Chakotay quickly moved to the bed and checked the manacles, trying not to look at Paris‘ chest. A quick burst from his phaser dealt with the chain, but there was no obvious way of removing, or separating, the manacles. They were also too closely fitted to risk using the phaser. It would have removed them, but also would have damaged the young man wearing them. And they would not be able to beam back to Voyager until they got out of the compound and away from it‘s security field.

"Shit, Commander! How am I supposed to get out of here with my ankles glued together?" Tom was starting to sound panicked again.

"Don‘t worry, Paris. You‘re getting out of here in one piece."

Chakotay looked around the room again, then sighed. Moving back to the bed he reached down, picked up the pilot and moved to the door. Out in the hall the rest of the team looked surprised and amused. Tom started to turn bright red and finally resorted to hiding his face against Chakotay‘s neck in embarrassment. Chakotay couldn‘t help chuckling. Paris was acting like a nervous bride being carried across the threshold.

* * * * *

Exiting Yoran‘s estate took twice as long as getting in. First they were slowed down by the fact that Tom was incapable of walking. Chakotay was not a weakling, but carrying the taller man was not exactly easy. Also, they seemed to run into even more security patrols. Yoran was definitely the paranoid type. Once the rescue team had had to quickly squeeze into several alcoves to avoid a patrol. Chakotay had dropped Paris to his feet and then pressed into the alcove behind him, trying to ignore the feeling of the younger man‘s backside pressed against him. He found Paris attractive - hell, everyone found Paris attractive - and the outfit he almost wasn‘t wearing didn‘t help matters much. However, Chakotay was the first officer and a relationship with a subordinate was definitely not appropriate. ‚Besides‘, he told himself, ‚I don‘t like the man!‘. (Sure, Chakotay. Keep telling youself that. Maybe you‘ll even believe it.) But he was definitely responding to the close quarters. Chakotay pleaded silently for the patrol to move on quickly. Luckily the patrol did not think to check the alcoves.

Finally they made it out of the compound. As soon as they were out from damping field Chakotay called for a beam-up, and sighed in relief as the transporter room came into focus around them.

* * * * *

Tom sat on the edge of the transporter platform listening to Chakotay report to the Captain, then call B‘Elanna to bring some tools to release the manacles still binding his wrists and ankles. His face still felt hot, and he knew it must be beet-red. Oh the woes of having fair skin. And it got worse when B‘Elanna walked into the room, stopped, and burst out laughing.

"Oh, gee, thanks Torres. I‘m glad this amuses you."

"Tom, what can I say. It‘s sooooo you."

Tom sighed. Of course she would find this all amusing. After all, as far as she was concerned, Tom was a sexist pig. She probably considered his situation to be divine justice or something. Oh well, he sighed. At least Harry hadn‘t come to check on him. Harry was a sweet kid, but he probably would have died with embarassment at the sight of Tom.

Still snickering to herself, Torres made quick work of the locking mechanism, and dropped to manacles to the floor. Tom gave them a dirty look, like they were poisonous snakes or something. Then he stood and headed for the door, planning on going to his quarters to wash up and change before reporting to the Captain. He didn‘t notice the commander, behind him, picking them up and slipping them in his pocket with a slightly distracted look on his face.

But once he was out in the corridor, he remembered just what he was wearing. He stopped and thought of going back into the transporter room and asking to beamed directly to his quarters, then stiffened his back and headed for the nearest turbolift, ignoring the shocked looks, laughs and wolf-whistles. Not to mention an affectionate grope from Megan Delaney when she passed him in the hall.

Finally he reached the quiet of his own quarters. Quickly he stripped off the outfit they had stuck him in down on the planet and moved to the shower. Prying the gem out of his navel had taken a bit of doing. It felt like it had been glued in or something. Then he got in the shower and scrubbed off the paint. Then he scrubbed some more, still feeling slightly dirty. This had to have been one of the most humiliating experiences in his life.

Finally pulling himself out of the shower, he got into a fresh uniform and tried to think of something a little more cheerful. Like Chakotay, maybe. He certainly found the commander attractive. Hell, almost everyone on the ship did! But the commander didn‘t like him, and surely didn‘t find him attractive. Or so he had thought before tonight.

The feeling of relief that he had felt seeing Chakotay come through the door of that damned bedroom had been nearly overwhelming. And then having him carry him through the halls of the compound was like something out of a fantasy, no matter how embarassing it had been. Not to mention the outfit he had been wearing. All in black, with a turtleneck and denim pants. Combined with his bronze skin and that tattoo he had looked absolutely delicious. But most telling had been when they had to hide in that alcove. It hadn‘t been his imagination. Chakotay, pressed up behind him, had definitely been sporting a healthy erection. So... the commander definitely found him attractive. Tom wondered if maybe he felt even more than just physical attraction. Ah well. That could wait. Right now he‘d settle for just the physical part.

Tom looked over at the bed and the outfit he had removed. An idea came to mind, and he smiled.

* * * * *

Chakotay sighed as he headed to his quarters. Paris had explained to the captain the circumstances of his abduction. From the sound of it there was nothing that really could have been done to prevent it, at least not without having insulted their hosts by refusing the tours offered. No word had been received from Keerath about the invasion of Yoran‘s estate, so presumably they were going to pretend the whole event had not happened. Hopefully this wouldn‘t interfere with Voyager‘s negotiations.

Finally the captain had dismissed Paris, telling him to take the next day off to recover. Paris had flashed a jaunty grin at the commander on his way out the door. Chakotay had then detailed the rescue mission for the Captain and Tuvok. At the end of it they had both complimented him and his team for a job well done and told him to take the next day off as well. The order would apply to his team also.

So now he was heading to his quarters planning on getting some sleep. Coming in the door he immediately pulled off the black turtleneck he had worn for the mission and dropped it over the back of a chair. He took the manacles out of his pocket, eyed them, then tossed them in the corner. He still wasn‘t sure just why he had picked them up anyway. Then he stopped, tilting his head to the side, listening. There was someone in the next room. Still wearing the jeans, he moved to his bedroom and stopped in surprise. Reclined on his bed was Tom Paris, wearing the harem outfit again. He wasn‘t wearing the paint any more, but the rest of the outfit was intact, right down to the navel gem. Chakotay opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Tom stood gracefully, and moved over in front of him. "Commander," he said in a slightly husky tone of voice, and wrapped his arms around Chakotay‘s waist.

"Paris, what the hell are you doing?" He had intended to speak firmly, but his voice cracked slightly on the last word.

"Saying thank you for rushing to my rescue. My Hero..." And with that Paris leaned forward and kissed him.

* * * * *

For moment Tom was sure he had made a big mistake. Chakotay just stood there, not seeming to react at all as Tom put everything he had into that kiss, holding his breath at the same time. Then Chakotay‘s mouth opened and he relaxed into the kiss. Tom sighed his relief into Chakotay‘s mouth and followed it with his tongue. Gently he explored the commander‘s mouth, then drew back his tongue, luring Chakotay‘s into his own. At the same time he brought his hands around to rub at Chakotay‘s chest, gently tweaking the other man‘s nipples.

At that Chakotay groaned, and wrapped his own arms around Tom, holding him tighter, then suddenly pulled away.

"Paris... if this is just some... joke with you..."

"No joke commander," Tom ground out, pupils dilated and chest heaving. Then he leaned even closer and recaptured the older man‘s lips.

* * * * *

At that, Chakotay stopped fighting his arousal. Not that he had been able to resist it much up until then. The sight of Paris in that damned outfit, the feel of the man in his arms, had been overloading his senses already. And that kiss! He had overheard the Delaney sisters talking once about Tom‘s talents as a kisser and assumed that they had been exaggerating. Now he realized that they had not come even close to describing the impact.

He quickly came back to his surroundings, though, when he felt Paris tugging him towards the bed while fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. Again, he had to ask. "Paris. Are you sure about this? I‘m your commanding officer. We shouldn‘t be..."

An agile hand slipped inside his jeans to cup his erection. A hoarse voice whispered in his ear "shut up Chakotay" and Paris‘ hips bucked forward pressing his own erection against Chakotay‘s hip. Then Tom was slithering his way down Chakotay‘s body, landing on his knees and then pulling the commander‘s jeans down around his knees.

At the first touch of Tom‘s tongue he stopped thinking entirely. All he could do was feel. He quickly exploded into the most intense orgasm he had had since ending up in the delta quadrant. When the sparkles faded from his vision he realized he was on his back, half on the bed, and Tom was still kneeling on the floor with a rather self-satisfied grin on his face.

He sat up, kicking off his boots as he did so. "C‘mere, you," he growled and pulled Tom up on the bed beside him. He then proceeded to dispose of Paris‘ oh so provocative outfit, getting rid of the rest of his own clothing while he was at it. He then decided he didn‘t like the other man‘s expression. Paris was too in control. He reached down and wrapped his hand around Tom‘s erection, and smirked when the expression disappeared with a groan. He started to pump the other man‘s erection with one hand and started running the other over the body next to him. Tweaking nipples made them harden into little nubs. A tongue in the ear made Tom jerk. A rub on the navel gem made Tom cum, with a sob.

"So... did you like that, lieutenant?" Chakotay asked with a smirk.

Tom lay there panting, then smiled. He reached down to stroke Chakotay‘s returning erection. The young man sat up, propped up on one elbow still stroking him, and whispered into Chakotay‘s ear.

"I want you to fuck me, commander."

Chakotay stared at him for a moment, then reached into the bedside table to pull out a small tube of lubricant. Still looking into the other man‘s eyes he squeezed some lubricant on his fingers and reached down to slide one finger along the cleft of Paris‘s ass, running his finger over, then into the tight entrance there.

* * * * *

Tom sighed as he felt the finger slide into his ass, and spread his legs further apart. The finger disappeared, then returned with a second one. They twisted gently, stretching him out, pulling a moan from him. A third finger joined the others briefly, then they all disappeared. He quickly rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up on his knees and elbows. Impatient, he wiggled his rear at Chakotay.

Then he moaned as he felt the other man‘s hands on his hips. Then a pressure. Then the delicious feeling of being filled. As Chakotay pushed forward, Tom thrust back and they quickly found a mutual pace. Then Tom lost it as he felt a slick hand reach down to grasp his erection. After that he didn‘t last long, cumming into the hand that held him. From behind him he heard a strangled cry as Chakotay thrust hard a last few times. Then the commander collapsed on top of him, pressing him into the mattress.

* * * * *

As soon as he could think coherently again, Chakotay rolled off of and out of Tom and pulled the younger man into a tight embrace, noticing with a grin that somehow the damned navel gem had stayed in place the whole time.

"So, Tom," he whispered into the other man‘s ear. "Was this a one time only? for gratitude?" He couldn‘t resist following the question up with a lick to the same ear.

Paris chuckled sleepily. "Naw. I‘ve wanted to do this for a long time. Just didn‘t think you‘d be interested. At least not until that damned alcove. Voyager should have a few alcoves. They might come in handy... What about you? If you want to just forget this happened..."

"No, I don‘t want to forget it. Besides, you‘re pretty unforgettable. But there is the question of what the Captain might say, or..." Chakotay stopped, realizing that the man in his arms had already fallen asleep. He chuckled. "Well, we can always figure that out later."

As he drifted he off to sleep he remembered the manacles lying on the floor back in the other room and smiled. Maybe next time...