Pairing C/P C/others
NC-17 ***WARNING*** This is NOT a nice story, there is rape And pain and psychological torture.
Set shortly after the Jonas incident.
Archive: Cha-club, TPDorm, and Paris Nights only.
Disclaimer: The boyz don't belong to me (all hail mighty paramount) but this story does!
Hostage by Morticia
Chakotay was still wrapped in a ball of misery when two strange Bírechík entered his room. He barely noticed their approach to the bed, he was too consumed by the raging pain in his groin, the sick realisation that his mind was now hostage to his bodyís demands and that he had allowed Tate to be taken back to the larder.
No matter that he had decided that he had no choice but to reject the intolerable choice of his own continued existence, still his guilt was overwhelming. He could almost see the boyís terror as he was returned to his previous fate; he had SMELT Tateís fear. Only his own treacherous bodyís instantaneous reaction to that fear had enabled him to close his ears to Tateís screams.
As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as the thought alone horrified and disgusted him, he knew it was only a matter of time before the Ďchangeí was complete and he would fully become Bírechík. He could fight and resist and scream his outrage, but his own body had become his betrayer.
Somehow, and soon, he was going to have to find a way to end his own life.
So he paid little attention to the strange Bírechík. Having faced and accepted the necessity of his own demise, he could not imagine any worse fate and was unconcerned regarding the plans of the Bírechík. He wondered dully, whether they intended to drug him again, and he almost welcomed the return to the oblivion in which he had been pure mindless animal, blameless and almost innocent of his bodyís demands.
It wasnít until one of the Bírechík wordlessly took hold of him that he looked up with haunted, dull eyes. The other Bírechík had walked to the wall, opened a panel and was rummaging inside the cupboard he had revealed. It took a few moments for Chakotayís head to clear enough for him to realise it was the place where the Kítech collars and various sexual implements were. By that time, the Bírechík had already found what he was looking for and turned triumphantly, brandishing an armful of restraints.
Realisation struck Chakotay like a phaser blast. They werenít going to drug him, they were going to tie him down to the bed and it didnít take a genius to figure out what would happen to him next.
Chakotay roared with outrage and moved so quickly that the Bírechík holding him was completely surprised by the vicious elbow that connected with his midriff. The Bírechík cried out and doubled over in pain. Chakotay squirmed out from his grasp and made a break for the door.
"Damned idiots" Ikton murmured as he locked down the door controls
Chakotayís headlong run brought him crashing into the wall. He frantically ran his hands over the smooth black surface, sure that somewhere, somehow he could find the release mechanism. He was struggling for enough breath to feed his rampaging heart and the pain in his groin was growing to mind-numbing proportions as his exertion sent more blood flowing into his already engorged cock.
He felt, rather than heard, the stealthy approach of the two Bírechík. He spun wildly, panting like an animal at bay, and then charged between them, ducking under their outstretched arms and racing towards the still open cupboard. Wi and Skan scrambled out of the way as he made his wild flight past them.
He could hear the charging sound of the Bírechík as they bore down on him like huge mad bulls but he didnít turn to face them until his frantic fingers had found what he was looking for. Then he spun towards them, his eyes mad with fury.
The Bírechík slowed to a walk, cautiously eyeing the whip he was brandishing. They exchanged glances with each other and then split apart so that they could each approach the smaller man from either side.
Chakotayís chest was heaving with exhausted panic, his four days under the influence of the Kureishi had drained most of the natural strength of his body, the fear-smell of the Kítech was driving the possibility of rational thought from his head, and the pain in his groin was ripping away the remaining shreds of coherence.
He was as mindlessly dangerous as a wounded animal and the Bírechík knew this as they circled him cautiously. One stepped a little too close and was rewarded by the biting lash of Chakotayís whip. He jumped back in surprise at the stinging pain.
"Come on you fuckers!" Chakotay hissed
Chakotayís back was trapped by the wall. He had little room to manoeuvre, so he swung the whip viciously from side to side and its whispering arc of promised pain kept the Bírechík out of armís reach. They fainted, ducked and wove, retreated and approached, but still the stinging promise of the whip kept them at bay.
"Arenít you going to do something?" Keysh asked, biting his lips with admiration of the Hostageís unprecedented defiance
"No, heíll tire soon enough." Ikton replied and gazed thoughtfully at the monitor
"Magnificent, isnít he?" Ikton murmured to Keysh "Heís going to be such a wonderful addition to our people."
"If you can break him." Keysh muttered doubtfully
"Oh they ALL break in the end." Ikton replied with a laugh "Anyway, even if he doesnít, which is highly improbable, we only need his genes, not his co-operation. Once we have the children, he is disposable."
"True." Keysh agreed and was surprised to be saddened by the thought.
Chakotay used the wall to prop himself up, the room was beginning to spin, his knees were curiously detached from his body and he was swaying with dizziness. All reason had left him, his eyes were glazed, sweat was pouring down his body in literal streams and the fire below his waist was driving all capacity for reason out of his head.
He was pure emotion now and his only emotions were fear and pain. He couldnít prevent the whimper of distress that keened out of his lips like the wail of a snared fox. His whip hand trembled and he looked at it in confusion and for a moment he forgot where and who he was and even what the object in his hand was. He looked up helplessly, his whole body sagging and shivering with exhaustion and pain.
And the Bírechík charged him.
The feel of their rough hands on his bare arms was enough to force some semblance of thought into Chakotayís head and he squirmed and writhed desperately. The Bírechík simply dragged him firmly back to the bed. They did not strike him or even punish him for his earlier resistance; they merely half pulled, half carried him to the bed and pushed him down on his back in the middle of the divan.
While one of the Bírechík knelt on his chest to subdue him, the other took one limb at a time and applied soft cuffs around his wrists and ankles and then chained him so that his arms were stretched over his head and shackled to rings on the wall and his legs were tied to the bottom of the bed, with his ankles slightly apart.
Then the Bírechík pulled back and let him writhe helplessly against his bonds.
Chakotay found he was bound loosely enough to turn on either side and even to draw his knees up a few inches. The cuffs were soft enough that they didnít chafe at his skin despite his struggles. He looked up at the Bírechík and his surprise must have been evident.
"We do not wish to hurt you, Chakotay. The restraints allow you to move enough that your blood supply will not be cut off and, no matter how much you struggle, you will not be harmed by the cuffs."
"Why are you doing this to me?" Chakotay whispered, ashamed of the tears of defeat that were stinging his eyes.
"You donít understand what you need, Chakotay. Just as we wouldnít allow you to refuse medicine if you were ill, we cannot allow you to refuse the Kítech. You NEED their essence to survive. You are in agony and they are the cure. What kind of monsters would we be if we just sat back and let you suffer like this?" The Bírechík replied with a genuine kindness that made Chakotay almost choke at the macabre humour of the Bírechíkís twisted logic.
He was in hell and there was no escape.
"I want to die," he whispered brokenly, "Please just let me die."
"Now, Iíve told you before thatís not an option," Iktonís cheerful voice rang out as he approached the bed. He nodded in dismissal to the other Bírechík and they disappeared through the door.
Chakotay glared at the Captain, his lip curling into a malevolent sneer and his dull eyes suddenly sharpened and glinting with hate.
"Bastard," he spat.
Ikton smiled. "See? You have far too much fight in you to die, Chakotay. I can see the fire burning in your eyes. You hate me. I can understand that. You are in pain and you blame me for it. But Iím going to take the pain away. Youíd like that wouldnít you? Youíd like Ikton to take the pain away?"
Ikton bent over Chakotayís body and lightly touched the tip of Chakotayís swollen cock. Chakotay hissed at the unbelievable pain of that feather light touch. His back arched unnaturally as his hips thrust involuntarily upwards and the restraints held his arms and legs down.
Ikton then closed his hand delicately around the engorged penis and squeezed lightly. Chakotay screamed and jerked so violently that he nearly disconnected his arms from their sockets.
"Youíre burning hot, Chakotay. I can feel the heat from your flesh, it is almost too painful to touch."
"PLEASE," Chakotay wailed
"Please what, Chakotay? Tell me what you want, what you need. Tell me how I can help take the pain away?" Ikton purred
"Kill me," Chakotay replied calmly.
Iktonís eyes flashed with fury and he let go of Chakotayís cock and leapt to his feet. What the hell was wrong with the stupid bastard? He had seen Chakotayís agony, had felt the fire that raged in the manís loins. Chakotay should have been screaming for his Kítech, not calmly asking to be put down.
"Youíd rather DIE than lose your pride, wouldnít you?" he screamed suddenly at his captive.
Chakotay turned his face and gave Ikton an odd smile. "Without pride and honour a man is NOTHING," he replied softly "The Bírechík gave up their humanity simply to survive. You made a choice to prefer life as monsters rather than death as human beings. It is not the Kítech who are the animals here, it is the Bírechík."
Ikton coloured in fury and found himself striking blindly at Chakotay without thought. He looked in surprise at the vivid red hand mark on Chakotayís cheek and the trickle of blood that was running down from his broken lip.
"Forgive me, Chakotay. I forgot myself. Your intelligence sometimes makes me forget that you are a barbarian and I should not have reacted to your ignorant words."
"The truth hurts doesnít it?" Chakotay replied with difficultly through his bruised mouth. His head was ringing from the force of Iktonís blow and he had a wild hope that if only he could enrage the huge Bírechík enough to attack him, Ikton might accidentally give him the oblivion he sought.
Ikton smirked, as though he could read his captiveís thoughts.
"You have a dangerous and irritating tongue, my friend. Itís time to quieten it," and he reached into the pocket of his billowing jacket and produced a small harness with a hard, wrinkled leather ball connected. He used his left hand to prize Chakotayís mouth apart and then pushed the leather sac into his mouth and quickly tied the harness around the back of Chakotayís head before he could spit the object back out.
Chakotayís eyes burned with humiliation as the ball gagged him. It was small enough to breathe around but effectively prevented any sounds other than muffled grunts emerging. The gag had an odd pleasing flavour though that tickled his tongue and made saliva rush into his mouth until it dribbled down the edges of his open lips. He found himself sucking on the ball as though it was a comforter and against his own volition, the tension in his shoulders began to relax.
"See, thatís better," Ikton whispered lovingly. He squashed his impulse to tell Chakotay exactly where Bírechík leather came from, and in particular what that dried little sac was, but thought better of it. His hostage choking on his own vomit would NOT be conducive to his planned return to Bírechíknar in triumph.
"Kítech!" Ikton snapped and Wi and Skan ran to stand in front of him, their bodies satisfyingly marked by Chakotayís Kureishi induced violence
"Your Master is ill. He has need of your services," he told them and they nodded in compliant understanding. "You will be careful to always apply the ointment to him so that he gains pleasure from your efforts and you will take it in turns so that he never receives less than your best efforts to please him. Do you understand?"
"Yes Master" Wi and Skan replied hastily, their heads bobbing up and down to show enthusiasm.
Ikton looked thoughtfully at the raw blistered skin on Chakotayís cock and remembered the heat of the swollen flesh.
"Use your mouths until I instruct otherwise," he reluctantly told the Kítech. It would be more entertaining to see the Kítech bouncing their plump buttocks up and down on Chakotayís shaft but his own pleasure would simply have to take a back seat for a few days.
He climbed up on the bed and sat next to Chakotayís head. He plumped a few pillows behind his back to make himself comfortable and then gazed fondly into the naked fury that flashed in Chakotayís dark eyes. He bent over and kissed Chakotay gently on the forehead, like a mother soothing a fretful child.
"Never mind, little one. Ikton is going to take all the pain away."
Ikton stared thoughtfully at the Kítech. He knew Chakotay had named them but the animals all looked the same to him. He pointed at the nearest.
"You, what is your name?" he asked with a grin.
"S-s-Skan, Master," Skan replied and then flinched slightly
"And do you love your Master, Skan?" he queried
"OH YES, MASTER," Skan replied with fervent honesty
"Even though he has hurt you so badly?" Ikton queried, carefully watching Chakotayís face for reaction
"I am Kítech, Master, I live only to serve Bírechík. My pain pleasured my master so it pleasured me," Skan replied, his voice shaking with fear at the unexpected necessity to give an opinion, but his words evidently heartfelt and honest.
"You see, Chakotay. Your Kítech love you. They even thank you for inflicting pain on them."
Chakotayís eyes filled with tears of pity and renewed shame as he heard Skanís pathetic reply. Ikton misinterpreted the tears and grinned nastily.
"Poor ĎTateí was it? Such a good, loving Kítech and now destined to end his life in a stew pot. Itís a shame you didnít appreciate how much you meant to him," Ikton sighed dramatically.
Chakotayís eyes blazed at him and Ikton laughed.
"Letís see if Skan and Wi," and he chuckled again at the names "can keep themselves off TOMORROWíS menu, shall we?"
Skan had frozen in terror at Iktonís last words. He was almost as white as a corpse. Ikton relaxed comfortably against the headboard.
"Show me how much you love your Master, Skan," He smirked.
Chakotay began to struggle uselessly against both his bonds and his groinís treacherous response as Skan climbed onto the bed, straddled his legs so that his limp cock was dangling between Chakotayís knees and then, tucking his long golden hair behind his ears he opened his mouth wide and reared his head over Chakotayís engorged penis.
Chakotayís shout of outrage was muffled by the gag and emerged as a moan. Then, his burning cock was enveloped by Skanís soft mouth and bathed in the cool wet bliss of Skanís throat, a shudder of relieved excitement coursed through Chakotayís body.
For a moment the boyís saliva cooled and soothed and then the Kítechís essence permeated the pores of his skin, tingling and itching its way into his flesh. Chakotay bucked and screamed, choking against the gag as his lungs screamed for more air to cope with pumping the heavy rush of blood to his groin.
He erupted into Skanís throat and the release of pressure was so wonderful it was agonising. He threshed helplessly as Skan siphoned him dry and licked his sore overused cock clean.
Tears of relief, humiliation and shame were dripping down Chakotayís cheeks and he closed his eyes to shut out Iktonís knowing smirk and prayed for the refuge of sleep. His groin was still aching but the knifing pain had reduced to a dull throb and he started to drift away on the rhythm.
The Bírechík ran a hand gently over Chakotayís dripping forehead. His captive was still fever-hot. Ikton sighed. Chakotayís pride and surprising will power had enabled him to go far too long without release. The pressure inside him had been building with volcanic proportions and it was going to take a little effort to reduce it.
He summoned Wi to take Skanís place and the Kítech swapped positions with effortless grace. Wi leant down and licked the tip of Chakotayís flaccid cock and it reared instantly to attention.
Chakotayís eyes snapped open in disbelief as the familiar raging fire replaced the throbbing in his groin.
"NO!" he screamed, but the gag stole his protest and he could only writhe helplessly as Wi brought him to another shattering climax.
"Shush," Ikton murmured, stroking Chakotayís face "We have to let it all out and then you can sleep." He promised the blank exhausted eyes.
Chakotay lost all awareness of time. It could have been hours, days or weeks that he lay there as Wi and Skan alternated and again and again his body was driven to the edge of madness and beyond and all the time Ikton whispered in his ear and stroked his tears away.
He was numb with horror and pain, and the blessed release of pain. He wasnít even aware of the cessation of the assaults or the arrival of a new Bírechík, until raised voices and the shocking cold of metal on his chest revived him enough to open his eyes a fraction.
Keysh removed the stethoscope. "His heart has taken a beating but itís strong. Heíll survive," he muttered reluctantly. He had watched the dayís proceedings with growing concern and had broken protocol by marching in and insisting that Ikton stopped.
"See, heís FINE!" Ikton snarled, furious with the interruption.
"Heís BLEEDING," Keysh snapped back.
The blistered skin on Chakotayís groin had torn and was now weeping.
Ikton blinked in surprise and bit his lip. "Fix it," he snapped decisively.
"Not unless you call it a day. Heís had enough," Keysh replied firmly "Heís Bírechík not an animal. Youíre torturing him."
"Iím TRYING to save his life." Ikton hissed defensively
"Save it tomorrow," Keysh replied firmly "He needs to eat and sleep and recover. By the morning, heíll NEED the Kítech again."
The sulky expression on Iktonís face slowly cleared to a grin. "Of course, youíre right Keysh. I DID get a little carried away. Fix him up and then he can have a nice bath and some food. He looks exhausted."
He looks dead, Keysh thought, looking at Chakotayís shattered body. He ran a dermal regenerator over Chakotayís groin while Ikton released the restraints and removed the gag. Chakotayís lips were dry and chapped and the cut on his lip had scabbed over and re-broken several times as the day had progressed.
Keysh repaired Chakotayís mouth and the nasty bruise that was swelling on his cheekbone. "Heís strong, Ikton, but he canít take much more of this," he pronounced.
"Of course he can. Just wait and see. As soon as he has eaten and slept the fire will be back. I havenít put it out, just quenched it a little. Men like Chakotay donít break THAT easily," Ikton said with confidence
Keysh felt an unfamiliar feeling of pity as he looked at the abused hostage. He was a doctor, he knew the change was irreversible and it was his duty to make sure his patients survived the transformation. Even so, Iktonís relish for the job made him uneasy. He thrust the uncomfortable thought away. Ikton WAS saving Chakotayís life after all.
Realising that Chakotay was so exhausted that drinking would probably choke him, Keysh injected a restorative straight into his bloodstream and then checked his heart again as Chakotayís eyelids fluttered open. The hostageís inability to look him in the face, instead looking away in the same flinching fear as a Kítech, made that strange pity lurch in his own heart again.
"Get up," he snapped viciously, hiding his unease behind anger.
With painful slowness Chakotay dragged himself to his feet, and staggered a little on unsteady legs. Keysh wrapped one of Chakotayís arms over his shoulders, Ikton took the other and they half-led, half dragged him to the waiting bath.
As he sank into the warm caress of the water, the remaining strength sagged out of his body and bonelessly he sank. Wi and Skan leapt in beside him and pushed him until his head broke the surface again. He coughed and spluttered until his chest screamed with the pain of his contractions and then he collapsed back until his buttocks were on a ledge and he passed out. The Kítech arranged him until his head was cushioned on the bath rim and then they hovered protectively beside him, making sure he didnít slump into the water again.
Keysh and Ikton watched the antics until they were sure that the Kítech could be trusted with their Masterís safety and then they wandered back to the observation room.
"His Kítech are unusually well-trained considering they came from a farm." Keysh said conversationally.
"They didnít," Ikton replied, "They belonged to a Bírechík who died. The auction of his goods was poorly attended so no one outbid Baddiel. I didnít want to pay over the odds for meat, but there was always the chance of a successful trip so I knew they might come in useful."
"What about the one you sent back to the larder, are you going to give him back when Chakotayís change is complete?"
"He never got as far as the kitchen. Frey took a shine to him and decided to swap him for one of his own Kítech. Anyway, it suits my purposes to let Chakotay think we slaughtered him for the moment. Later on he can just choose himself a replacement."
His own relief at Iktonís words confused Keysh. Why did it matter whether Frey had swapped one Kítech for another?
Because ĎTateí mattered to Chakotay, he realised and he shivered. Suddenly he couldnít wait for the end of this journey. He wanted to escape this strange hostage and the insidious effect he was having on him.
He barely listened as Ikton summoned Ishtar and gave his instructions for the care of Chakotay and then he followed the Captain to the dining room.
As he dipped his bread into the thick soup, he was struck by relief that it wasnít ĎTateí he was eating and shivered again at further evidence that the barbarianís madness was affecting him. He really had to pull himself together, he decided.
Ishtar helped Chakotay out of the bath, waited until the Kítech had dried him and then led him still naked back to the bed. Chakotay stiffened as he approached the bed and tried to resist but his body betrayed him with its weakness and he ceased his struggle and sat on the edge of the bed as instructed, looking down at his lap in a haze of exhausted misery.
A metallic object pressed against his lips and he flinched in memory of the gag.
"Open your mouth." Ishtar ordered, but Chakotay clenched his teeth and refused, shaking his head furiously.
"You have to eat." The voice replied firmly, "Please donít make me force you, you wouldnít enjoy it and you look like youíve had enough fighting today."
The Bírechíkís words and the smell of tomato soup slowly pervaded his senses. The smell transported him a week and a lifetime back to Voyager.
He remembered sitting in the Mess Hall, his data padds strewn around his plate, looking up at the sound of merry laughter and catching a glimpse of Tom and Harry across the room. Tomís face had for once been clear of the irritating smirk he reserved purely for Chakotay, and he had raised a spoon of tomato soup to his lips. Chakotay had watched in painful, breathless longing as Tomís eyes had closed, his lips had parted and his tongue had snaked out teasingly to lick the soup off the spoon.
Chakotay sobbed as the power of the memory forced his mind back from the haze it had been covering in for the last few hours and he blinked uncertainly at the strange Bírechík.
"Eat" Ishtar repeated and raised the spoon to his mouth.
Chakotay gave a dreamy smile, "Yes, Tom," he murmured and opened his mouth.
When Chakotay had finished eating, Ishtar led him to the far wall, waited until he had used the facilities and then led him back to the bed. Again the bed panicked Chakotay, but this time Ishtar simply picked him up bodily and threw him onto the bed. Chakotay was so intent on preventing the Bírechík from catching and tying his limbs that he didnít even feel the soft collar until it was snapped shut around his neck.
Ishtar leapt back off the bed before Chakotay could retaliate and Chakotay found that he had been chained by the neck to the bed. There was sufficient chain for him to sleep in any position he chose, but not to get up.
Any relief Chakotay felt over the fact that he was obviously not going to be abused any further that night was negated by the humiliation of being tethered like a mad dog.
"Why?" he hissed
Ishtar shrugged. "The Captain wishes you to sleep comfortably. He is, however, concerned that you may harm yourself. This way we can ALL sleep well."
Ishtar was nearly at the door before he turned back to address the captive.
"If you require anything, your Kítech are at your bidding. I advise you NOT to ask them to help you escape. Not only would they be incapable of releasing the collar, the consequences to them should they attempt it would be most distressing for you."
Confident he had removed the last of Chakotayís hope; the Bírechík gave a satisfied nod towards the direction of the observation monitor and then left.
Chakotay curled in misery on the bed. He was cold, but forgot that crawling under the covers would warm him. The dull throbbing in his groin was slowly returning. A delicious scent caught his nostrils and he licked his lips. As Wi crept onto the bed and spooned himself against his Masterís chest, Chakotayís tongue remembered the taste of the soup.
He buried his face in clean, golden hair and wrapped his arms around Wiís body.
"Oh, Tom," Chakotay sighed and finally giving in to his exhaustion he slept.