By Morticia

Part 8

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

"You finally removed the gag then," Keysh murmured to Ikton as the Captain joined him in the observation room.

"You were right. He does need the extra essence from their saliva and cum," Ikton confessed sullenly.

"His heart was being damaged. The Kítech are fucking themselves on him hourly now and the strain on his heart together with lack of sleep is killing him. His constant refusal to eat the meat means that he has to absorb the Kítech at a higher rate than the skin of his penis can absorb through penetration. The further along the change he progresses, the more essence he requires."

"Itís been almost two weeks. How much longer is it going to take?" Ikton asked irritably. The sight of Wi and Skan bouncing up and down on Chakotayís lap had finally lost its entertainment value. Watching Chakotay hungrily swallowing Skanís cock that morning had been a refreshing change, but still he was bored now.

"Heís almost achieved his full stature. Heís grown a further eight inches in the last fortnight," Keysh confirmed "but his body weight has reduced to dangerous proportions."

"At least his other proportions have grown," Ikton smirked heartlessly "His Kítech ADORE him."

"They do show enthusiasm for their task," Keysh admitted as he watched the two boys change positions again over Chakotayís body until Skan was skewered and Wi was thrusting deeply into his Masterís throat. "Chakotay SEEMS to be responding well now," he said casually "Perhaps we could remove the restraints altogether?"

"NO," Ikton snapped back "He might be giving in to the inevitable and accepting the needs of his body, but he is still resisting us."

"He hasnít even spoken for over a week, Ikton," Keysh argued "How do you KNOW heís resisting?"

Ikton gazed angrily back at the monitor "His eyes, Keysh, you can see it in his eyes. No matter what I make him do, regardless of his pain and his exhaustion, still those eyes flash and boil with hatred. Itís all I can do not to hit him when he looks at me like that."

Keysh looked worriedly at his Captain, "Heís a barbarian and heís Ďchangingí. Heís not responsible for the way he behaves."

"You THINK so?" Ikton laughed bitterly, "he knows EXACTLY whatís going on, believe me. Heís trying to beat me at my own game but heís NOT going to win."

Keysh shuddered. The Captainís obsession with breaking the Hostage was beginning to overstep the boundaries of good taste.

"Why donít you simply accept that he wonít EVER eat the meat and stop trying to break him? We can keep him alive as long as we supply his body with sufficient essence. As you said, itís only his genes that are important. Just deliver him alive, turn him over to the hospital and walk away." Keysh said with quiet desperation

"You said that he wasnít absorbing enough to survive," Ikton argued.

"I could withdraw essence from the meat Kítech and inject it into him." Keysh suggested hopefully.

Ikton stared at the doctor incredulously and then began to laugh until tears rolled down his cheeks. "Inject him," Ikton repeated in wonder and then laughed helplessly again.

"Whatís so funny about that?" Keysh snapped irritably. He had been developing the idea in his head for days and he was positive it would work, temporarily at least.

Iktonís belly laugh slowed to a chuckle. "Nothing Keysh, except your idea just gave me the answer to my problem."

"So I can do it?" Keysh asked eagerly

"No, I have thought of a better way to both inject the essence AND finally shatter Chakotayís pride," and he looked speculatively at the monitor.

For a moment Keysh just looked at Ikton in bewilderment and then understanding dawned. His face flushed with outrage, "You canít!" He screeched, "Itís obscene. They are Kítech and heís a Bírechík."

"He says he isnít." Ikton replied with an evil grin, "So weíll give him the choice. I agree that a Kítech would never be permitted to do such a thing to a Bírechík, but Chakotay refuses to become Bírechík. When I explain his options, he will probably change his mind, and if not, at least it ensures his body will survive."

"No," Keysh whispered in horror, "I wonít let you do it."

"YOU donít have a choice, Doctor. Your only function here is to ensure his survival, not to tell me his rights. Unless he is Bírechík he has no rights, and donít forget it."

Keysh followed him miserably into Chakotayís quarters. Although his own trousers tented at the sight of the two Kítech pleasuring their master while he lay bound and helpless, he also felt strangely ashamed.  He watched as Wi gave a muffled scream and erupted into Chakotayís mouth and saw the bronze throat swallowing desperately as Chakotay sucked the essence that his body craved.

As the cum slid down his throat and began to absorb into his bloodstream with an electric tingle his body thrashed wildly and his hips bucked. Skan threw back his head and pushed himself down onto Chakotayís erection as it burst inside his ass. The Kítech was soaked with the sweat of his own exertions, as he had impaled himself over and over on Chakotayís cock. The sweat was dripping down onto Chakotayís flanks and Keysh could almost see it bubbling and disappearing as Chakotay absorbed it into himself.

At Iktonís signal, Wi retrieved his limp penis from Chakotayís questing mouth and scrambled off to kneel next to the bed. The Captain noticed the angry straining against Skanís cock ring. Skanís incipient release was being saved for when he and Wi changed positions again, but Ikton had had a far better idea.

"Enjoyed that did you?" He mocked Chakotay as he saw his captive furtively licking the corners of his mouth to catch the last of Wiís essence.

Chakotayís face stayed blank but again Ikton detected the deep flash of angry fire deep in the dark eyes and he stiffened with renewed fury.

"You can continue to pretend you canít hear me, if you like," he said easily " But we have a small problem. You wonít eat the meat and any efforts to force you have made you so sick that you have immediately regurgitated everything put in you."

Chakotayís eyes continued to burn but a tiny defiant smile twitched at the side of his mouth. Ikton clenched his fists and reminded himself that his words would be enough to remove the smug look, he didnít HAVE to strike Chakotay.

"The problem is that you arenít getting enough essence," he continued and noted a look of alarm replace Chakotayís cool expression. "I know, I know, you canít fuck any more than you already are. If you carry on like this, youíll probably break it," he said and touched Chakotayís flaccid organ for emphasis. The touch brought it back to life, only minutes after his previous orgasm and it throbbed angrily once more.

Chakotay closed his eyes in a vain attempt to stop his tears. Ikton stroked his cheek gently. "Donít cry, Chakotay. We have thought of a solution."

Chakotayís eyes snapped open and he searched Iktonís face desperately. The one thing he understood about the Bírechík was that they might withhold the truth but they never actually lied.

Ikton smiled at Chakotayís look of hope and he dangled the bait.

"The good doctor here says that he can extract the essence from live Kítech and inject you with it. Doesnít that sound better?"

Chakotay tried to answer but his throat was too raw for sound to emerge. He finally gave up and just nodded furiously.

"All I need you to do, to stop all this humiliation and pain, is to agree to willingly join us," Ikton told him.

Chakotayís eyes flashed and Ikton raised his hand placatingly.

"You donít have to eat the meat. We are willing to concede on that point. You will die without it, but that is YOUR choice. All we require you to do is give your word that you will not take your life by any other means. I recognise that you are a man of honour and would not lie, so in return for your word you will have the run of the ship again, the injections and a cessation of all this unpleasantness."

"Why?" Chakotay rasped

"In five more weeks we will be at Bírechíknar. As I explained before you are necessary to the survival of the Bírechík. Once you have donated sufficient Ďsamplesí we will allow you to live or die in peace. Itís your choice."

Chakotay closed his eyes and his body shuddered with relief. To have a way to end the nightmare of humiliation and rape and need. To finally quench the knifing, fiery agony in his groin and regain some control over his body and his life. Ikton was offering him a solution he could live with, injections from live Kítech and no meat.

Still, another voice whispered in his brain, you canít Chakotay, you canít. He whimpered and fought the voice. Thereís no harm, he told himself angrily, and I wonít eat the meat.

But your children will, the voice replied.

Chakotayís eyes snapped open and focused sharply on Iktonís black eyes. The Bírechíkís handsome face was relaxed but a small sneer was playing on his lips and his eyes were sparkling with mockery.

Chakotay remembered Ikton telling him that it had been many years since the last successful capture, that the Bírechík were becoming sterile and dying out. He realised that if he accepted Iktonís offer he would single-handedly be responsible for a whole new generation of Bírechík cannibals.

"No," he mumbled and saw Iktonís eyes flash with disappointment but no surprise.

"You really DO enjoy pain, donít you?" Ikton said sadly, running a teasing finger over Chakotayís groin and enjoying the gasp he elicited. "Your body is requiring more and more essence by the hour as you grow. Your bones are stretching, your muscles, your skin, all this takes an unbelievable amount of energy and only the essence can provide it. Within days, without the meat or the injections, your cock will be permanently rigid with need and unless a Kítech is moving on it you will scream until your vocal chords are destroyed.

"Then, lack of sleep will make your brain hallucinate and your heart will literally explode with your exertions. Death will come but I assure you it will be far worse than the slowest, most agonising torture your mind can devise."

"Youíre bluffing," Chakotay croaked

"In a way," Ikton conceded, "that IS what would happen but you are far too valuable for us to allow it."

"So I get the injections anyway." Chakotay concluded bitterly.

"Yes, and no," Ikton laughed nastily "had you agreed, your injections would have been given to you painlessly by Doctor Keysh. Since you have refused, I have thought of a more interesting way to infuse your body with essence."

Chakotayís eyes flared with worry but no real alarm. There seemed little that Ikton could do to him to make his situation worse than it already was.

With his usual, nearly telepathic, understanding of his captiveís mind, Ikton smiled.

"Since you will shortly understand that there is no way you can avoid your survival and whatever Ďmoralí problem that obviously causes for you, you may as well agree to my terms. I want you to consider that thought over the next few hours.

"Tomorrow morning I will come and ask the question again. It will be your final chance, so make sure you make the right decision."

"Fuck you." Chakotay hissed defiantly.

"Oh no, fuck YOU, Chakotay," Ikton replied and smirked as belated, horrified understanding flooded his captiveís exhausted face.

The realisation was too much for Chakotayís shattered brain. He realised how the Bírechík intended to keep him alive and he shuddered from this new, unbelievable humiliation. He understood that his refusal to accept Iktonís offer had been useless posturing and that he should have accepted the offer of his freedom.

"Iíve changed my mind, I accept." He gasped desperately. The words ripped at his heart because he knew they were a lie, that honour be damned he would take his life at the first opportunity. The Bírechík never lied and neither had he before now. His word was as integral a part of his identity and to deliberately make a promise he knew he would break, shattered something inside of himself that could never mend.

But what was his honour against the lives of the Kítech who would die at the hands of his own genetically engineered children?

"I give my word. I accept. I AM Bírechík." He gasped desperately and Keysh sighed with relief and reached to uncuff Chakotayís ankles.

Ikton grabbed his arm in a cruel grip.

"What are you doing?" he snarled.

"He answered you, gave his word, he is Bírechík," Keysh replied in confusion.

"But I havenít asked the question again yet, have I?" Ikton replied with cruel logic "he canít give his answer until I ask him again and Iíve already said I will do it in the morning, I canít break MY word, can I?"

Keysh looked at the Captain in disgust. "Why are you doing this?" he pleaded.

"Because I still think Chakotay needs to learn exactly how much of a slave he is now to his own body. A thorough understanding of the alternative will teach him to appreciate the gift of the injections."

Chakotayís eyes were stark with horror, but he knew it was pointless to plead with the Captain. For his own reasons Ikton was determined to do this to him and only by refusing to beg could Chakotay cling to any shred of remaining dignity. So when Ikton told him to turn over Chakotay merely flashed him a look of pure distain and then twisted in his bonds until he was face down on the mattress.

He heard Ikton walking towards the far wall and realised the Bírechík had gone to collect something from the Ďcupboardí. He averted his face and closed his eyes. Somehow the knowledge of what was going to happen was enough without seeing the means by which it would be accomplished. Ikton returned and he heard the clink of chains landing on the bed and the clatter of what sounded like hollow metal tubes.

He bit into the pillow beneath him to stop himself crying out in terror, and then he felt the chains that held his arms go slack.

"Get on your hands and knees" Ikton ordered and Chakotay complied with a shudder of relief, his face down position had ground his angry cock into the mattress and releasing the pressure was such a relief that he almost forgot WHY he was being told to get in the position.

Then tight cuffs were wrapped around each of his thighs, his knees were forced apart to a painful distance until he could feel Iktonís breath on his exposed ass and a rod was inserted between brackets on the cuffs and locked into place. He tried to ease the strain on his inner thighs but the rod refused any movement.

With frighteningly deft skill, Ikton repeated the bondage on his arms and then finally inserted rods either side from arms to thighs. Chakotay was trapped and held completely motionless by a rigid square cage of iron.

Ikton gave him a friendly pat on his rump as he climbed off the bed, "You canít move even a centimetre, Chakotay, so there is no way to avoid the pleasure and relief your Kítech are eager to give you. The cage is solid and will support you should you manage to get any sleep tonight, so donít worry."

Ikton then strode to the front of the bed. Chakotayís head was dangling between his arms in defeat. He had thought the humiliation of being tied and ceaselessly ridden was the worst embarrassment possible. Now caged in this helpless manner, with his ass exposed to the world, he finally discovered the meaning of true humiliation. Ikton pulled his head up and gazed with satisfaction at Chakotayís flushed cheeks.

"Never mind, pet," he whispered, "At least it isnít in the middle of the dining hall. Not tonight, anyway," and he saw understanding flash in Chakotayís eyes. Still he didnít like the defiant sparkle so he enjoyed producing the gag. Chakotay shook his head violently, attempting to bite Ikton as he fitted it.

"Sorry, Chakotay, itís for your own good. I wouldnít want your Kítech to be frightened if you scream. They might loose enthusiasm and the only way you can get any relief tonight is if they keep their nerve. Your cock must be in agony again. Itís been almost an hour hasnít it? You are burning up?"

Against his will Chakotay found himself nodding his agreement. Over the last two weeks he had become dependent on the constant attention of the Kítech. He knew if they penetrated him properly it would ease the growing agony in his groin. Despite his fear he felt himself clenching and releasing his ass cheeks in rhythm with the throb in his cock.

"Getting to be quite the little slut arenít you?" Ikton laughed as he saw the movement, then he told the Kítech to stay put and returned with Keysh to the observation lounge.

Keysh was too angry with Ikton to risk speaking, but as the minutes ticked by and Ikton just relaxed and grinned into the monitor, Keysh began to get truly concerned.

"What the HELL are you playing at? Itís been nearly two hours, heíll DIE!"

"No he wonít, not yet, heíll just WISH he had," Ikton replied with a knowing smirk.

After another 30 minutes Keysh couldnít control his worry any more. He returned to Chakotayís room to check the hostageís condition. Chakotay was pouring sweat, spasms rippled under his skin as his muscles jerked and strained against the bondage. Keysh reached between Chakotayís legs and his fingers could feel the heat inches before they connected with the engorged penis. His soft inquisitive touch made Chakotay toss his head in agony and a muffled wail escaped the gag.

He moved to Chakotayís head and the captive raised his head and gazed at him with such a blank look of animalistic pain that Keysh felt himself go cold. Chakotayís lips were slightly blue around the gag and Keysh felt his stomach lurch. He grabbed his stethoscope and pressed it against the dripping chest. As he had suspected, Chakotayís already abused heart was starting to skip beats in its staccato rhythm.

He turned towards the observation monitor and spoke clearly. "I hope youíve had enough fun, SIR, because itís going to be over soon, one way or the other."

A minute later Ikton appeared. Keysh knew he must have run to arrive so quickly but he entered the room with controlled grace.

"So, itís time to play?" he grinned sardonically.

"Why?" Keysh hissed in bewilderment, gesturing at Chakotayís torture.

"Because the game is over," Ikton replied sadly, "you heard him. Tomorrow heís going to become a good little Bírechík so this is my last chance."

"To hurt him?" Keysh asked in disgust

"To break him." Ikton replied. "Iím going to remove the gag now and he is going to BEG me to let the Kítech rape him. Heíll never be able to look in a mirror, at me or at them without remembering that."

"Why?" Keysh pleaded, "Heís given his word. You have what you wanted. Why do you have to destroy him?"

Ikton looked at him thoughtfully and then shrugged

"Because I can," he replied.

Had Keysh been armed at that moment he would have saved Chakotay a lot of suffering and given it to himself instead. As it was he could only stand helplessly and watch as Ikton approached Chakotay.

"You seem in some distress Chakotay," he said softly and stroked his captiveís sodden hair.

Fresh tears stung Chakotayís eyes as he found himself pressing his head up into Iktonís hand, desperate for any contact with his body and his sob of shame was muffled by the gag. Suddenly he was glad of it, pleased he wouldnít be able to give voice to his needs, to the fact that he didnít care any more if Ikton himself fucked him in the middle of the dining hall if only the agony would recede.

Then he felt Ikton releasing the harness and he clamped his teeth on the sac, refusing to relinquish the only thing that stood between his pride and the destruction that his confession of weakness would wreak in his already tattered spirit.

"You do realise that what you have in your mouth is a freeze-dried Kítech testicle, donít you?" Ikton told him cheerfully.

Chakotay vomited the gag out and it hit the pillow beneath him in a rush of half-digested soup and bile. His mind reeled with the knowledge that he had been chewing on it for two weeks now. His stomach churned again and he retched dryly, feeling the already raw lining of his throat tearing further.

Ikton gave an apparently absent pat on his buttocks and the pain in his stomach and throat dulled to insignificance next to the resurgence of his need.

"Please," he croaked.

"What do you want Chakotay? What do you need?"

"HURTS," Chakotay screamed and his abused throat retaliated with a wave of agony "Hurts," Chakotay whimpered, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course it hurts, but you know I can make the pain go away donít you?" Ikton whispered seductively

A fresh flare of agony ripped through his body, evidenced only by a scream, the ripple of muscles under the skin and the frantic thrashing of Chakotayís head.

"NOW, Ikton, or youíll lose him." Keysh snapped as he saw Chakotayís convulsions.

Ikton turned back to the captive in frustration. He knew Chakotay was in no state for long conversations so he would have to satisfy himself with a yes. He dragged Chakotayís head up by the hair and looked deeply into the glazed, pain-filled eyes.

"Do you want Skan to rape you, Chakotay? Do you want him to pound into your ass until you canít walk? Do you want that animalís cock buried in your ass? Do you?"

Need, lust and blind pain flashed through Chakotayís brown eyes and he moved his blue lips in a whisper.

"I canít hear you!" Ikton griped, tightening the grip in Chakotayís hair and wrenching his head back until Chakotayís eyes bulged with new pain, "Tell me again, tell me you want to be raped," he hissed and then he bent his ear down to Chakotayís mouth.

With infinite care Chakotay forced the sounds out of his battered throat, "Fuck you." He whispered triumphantly and then his body was engulfed in a fresh wave of pain from his groin even as Ikton roared in fury and dropped his head.

Keysh already had Skan in place and lubricated. He didnít even wait for Iktonís agreement but ushered the Kítech into place and pushed the small of his back violently so that Skanís penis slid home in one deep thrust.

Chakotay howled in outrage and then again in relief as the single thrust released a tiny orgasm from his body. Over and over Skan pounded into him and each thrust released a little of the pressure in Chakotayís groin.

Thrust, spurt, thrust, spurt, over and over until Skan erupted inside him and filled Chakotayís ass. The essence flooded Chakotayís senses and he erupted onto the sheets in a true orgasm this time.

Skan pulled out and only the tiniest trickle of blood and semen accompanied his withdrawal, Chakotayís body was quickly absorbing and transmuting the fluid.

Wi took Skanís place and entered Chakotay, sliding easily into the loosened sphincter. Chakotay moaned at the invader but then his ass muscles began to tighten involuntarily and siphon at Wiís cock. Keysh almost laughed at the look of annoyed surprise on Iktonís face as the Kítech was trapped firmly in place and milked dry without being able to move even an inch. Only his sudden gasp and Chakotayís triumphant scream evidenced the release of his essence. Ikton heard the splatter of semen on Chakotayís sheets as his captive claimed his own release.

"So much for them raping HIM," Keysh sniggered "He still seems to be in control, doesnít he?"

Iktonís face darkened dangerously and then he stormed out of the room. Keysh remained behind and applied a restorative into Chakotayís writhing neck and an aphrodisiac to both of the Kítech. He had a feeling that Chakotayís needs required more than two Kítech could naturally supply. Then dragged a chair to the side of the bed and he maintained a quiet vigil all night as the Kítech took turns to enter their master again and again to have their essence stolen.

He finally slipped into a troubled sleep only to be woken by a severe crick in his neck. The two Kítech were curled in exhausted sleep at the foot of the bed and Chakotay was so still in his rigid position that for a moment Keysh thought he was dead. He shuffled nervously in his seat and the captive turned his sodden head slightly from where it hung in exhaustion, so that his dark eyes caught Keyshís and froze him in place. He was struck again by how intelligent those eyes appeared whenever they were free of the Kítech-lust.

"Release me." Chakotay rasped hoarsely, and Keysh was oddly pleased to hear no pleading in the voice but rather the tones of demand.

"I canít," he replied sadly, aware that Chakotay must be in considerable pain "the captain has ordered that you remain caged until his return."

Chakotay turned his head away again and Keysh felt Chakotayís rejection like a slap in the face.

"I could fetch you a drink though, and heal your injuries," he offered hesitantly.

Chakotay moved his head again with effort and pierced him with his eyes, weighing and evaluating. Finally he seemed content that Keyshís offer was genuine.

"Please," he croaked.

Keysh carefully ran the regenerator over Chakotayís throat and then fetched him a large cup of juice and a straw. He carefully propped the cup between the pillows so it would remain in place and then placed the straw between Chakotayís lips so that he could help himself. Then he made his way to Chakotayís buttocks.

The bruised torn flesh made his stomach heave. He fetched a wet cloth and began to sponge away the blood and dried semen. Chakotay hissed in pain but made no complaint. It took some time before Keysh was confident that the wound was clean enough and then he began to regenerate the skin.

Throughout the process Chakotay remained silent, although Keysh could hear the occassional slurp as he drank the juice. Finally finished with Chakotayís rump he reached his hand between Chakotayís legs and felt his genitals. Chakotay hissed again at his invasive touch. Keysh ignored the protest and satisfied himself that the heat was gone and Chakotayís penis was flaccid before returning to his chair.

Chakotayís eyes glared at him angrily but he was too reluctant to release the straw to speak.

Keysh flushed. "Iím sorry, but I AM a doctor, and I had to check. I know the process was humiliating. No Bírechík has ever been treated in such a fashion before! Kítech do NOT penetrate Bírechík! And there was no need for the torture either but at least it proved one thing. Sufficient doses of essence can control your need for sex."

Chakotayís eyes widened in surprise. It had been several hours since the Kítech had finally collapsed in exhaustion and Keysh was right, the all too familiar agony had still failed to return. He quickly finished the last of the juice and then released the straw so he could talk. His mind shied away from the memory of the previous evening, he simply couldnít bear to think about what had been done to him, and so he latched instead onto Keyshís words.

"You know what this means?" He said calmly.

Keysh turned to him in surprise. He had forgotten how deep and melodic Chakotayís voice was when his throat wasnít raw with pain.

"What?" he asked helplessly

"That NONE of you have to eat the meat." Chakotay replied.

Keysh jumped to his feet flustered and paced nervously up and down. "Nonsense, if that was true nobody would have EVER done it. The Kítech and the Bírechík are symbionts. Bírechík HAVE to eat the meat of Kítech."

"But DO they? You said yourself that the Kítech never are allowed to penetrate their masters. Maybe it would be enough. Perhaps allowing the Kítech to top would solve everything. Perhaps THAT was the meaning of the genetic adaptation. Kítech provide the essence that the Bírechík need to survive. SEX is the way it should be transmitted. Why else does the essence have such a sexual imperative?"

"Shut up!" Keysh snarled, as his mind reeled under the barbarianís words. They made such sense and yet that would mean, would mean Ė and Keysh felt his stomach flip again.

Chakotay saw the Bírechík doctor pale at his words. Keysh was trying to look unconvinced but was failing miserably. A sudden pressure in his groin forestalled any attempt at further conversation. He stiffened in horror but then realised it was merely his bladder, screaming for attention.

Eventually need overcame embarrassment. Chakotay was almost beyond physical modesty by this point anyway.

"I need to urinate." He said firmly and his words startled Keysh out of his miserable thoughts. Keysh nodded acknowledgement and then the Bírechík looked around frantically. He couldnít see any suitable receptacle. He didnít think the cup would suffice. He shrugged helplessly.

Chakotay sighed tiredly.

"Look you either release me or I piss the bed and Iím sure neither of us would enjoy that. Where am I going to go? I canít escape and even if I could Iíd need to take a Kítech with me. Iím more trapped by this disease than any chains and now youíve proven to me that I CAN survive without the meat, thereís no need for me to try and kill myself, is there?"

Keysh nodded at his reasonable words but still didnít move.

"The captain," he reminded Chakotay sadly.

"Is here." Iktonís voice boomed out cheerfully.

Keysh and Chakotayís eyes met in confusion at the Captainís apparent high spirits.

"So, Chakotay, I take it you ARE ready to take me up on my kind offer." He purred.

And this time Chakotay wasnít lying when he replied.

"Yes Sir. I have considered your offer and found it to be both generous and acceptable. I AM Bírechík."

Ikton chortled.

"You said that so nicely that I might even forgive you for ruining my fun last night."

Chakotay stiffened but then heard the chink of his restraints being removed. Finally free he collapsed on the bed and rubbed his numb limbs. He winced as they returned to life with needle sharp prickles of enthusiasm, then he staggered to his feet.

"Excuse me," he said politely and then staggered to the urinal. It wasnít until he was half way through releasing the liquid that he realised he had found and released the panel easily. His vision had finally adapted. He WAS Bírechík.

But suddenly the idea was not so repellent. Now he knew that the adaptation had never been about cannibalism and didnít have to be, he no longer felt the same loathing for his own body nor the same despair. If only he could convince the Bírechík of their terrible mistake, perhaps he COULD save the Kítech after all.

"Weíll see you at dinner then, Senior Pilot." Ikton called and headed towards the door.

"Captain?" Chakotay called out politely.


"If I am senior pilot again, arenít I short of a Kítech?"

Ikton grinned, "I suppose you want ĎTateí back now?"

"Yes please, sir." Chakotay replied with deliberate humility.

"Sorry, youíre too late."

Ikton enjoyed seeing the colour drain out of Chakotayís bronze face and then he guffawed. "Frey took a liking to him and has claimed him, youíll have to go to the larder and pick yourself a new one."

Chakotay gave Ikton a weak smile and nobly resisted the urge to batter him. At least Tate was safe, he told himself and he hoped he was happy with Frey. Considering the way he had involuntarily treated his own Kítech so far, Tate was probably better off with Frey anyway.

He had only asked for the third Kítech in the hope of getting Tate back so he had little inclination to go choose another. On the other hand, he WOULD be saving another of the poor little buggers from the oven so he had little choice really.

Unwilling to wake Wi and Skan, he quickly bathed and then dressed himself. This time as he entered the corridor alone he could clearly see all the panels that indicated doorways and could easily identify the flashing lights of a route map.

"Where is the kitchen?" he asked the panel and a faint purple line radiated off the panel down to the left. Assuming it was showing him the way he followed the arrow through a maze of corridors and into a turbolift.

He was feeling quite pleased with himself until he stepped out of the lift into hell.

He had evidently found the kitchen. The left was in shadow but to his right shiny black counters were liberally covered with the dismembered body parts of a young Kítech. Baddiel was bustling happily around the counters in a blood-splattered apron and chefís cap. For a bizarre moment he reminded Chakotay of Neelix and he giggled.

He bit down on his rising hysteria as he saw Baddiel dump the decapitated head in a waste bucket and then skilfully skin a fillet from a plump thigh joint. Chakotay gulped back his rising nausea and the noise alerted Baddiel to his presence.

"Oh, itís YOU," Baddiel spat disdainfully, "what do you want?"

"Iíve come to choose a Kítech." Chakotay finally said when the bile had slid back down his throat.

"How am I supposed to plan a menu when people keep stealing the meat?" Baddiel muttered irritably but he touched a panel on one of the cabinets and bright light flooded the other side of the room.

A huge open cage was half-filled with trembling kítech. The floor of the cage was gently sloped into a centre drain, a corner of the cage was scattered with grain and half rotten vegetables and there was a curled hose by the door.

Chakotay realised that the Meat Kítech WERE kept like cattle, eating, sleeping and defecating on the floor of their cage and then hosed down to control stench and disease.

Some of the Kítech were barely more than 7 or 8 years old and frighteningly plump. Others were as old as their early twenties Chakotay noted and they seemed to wrap themselves protectively around the younger, more succulent Ďmeatí. Chakotayís heart lurched. How the hell could he choose one? How could he possibly say Ďthis one can live and the rest of you can dieí?

Yet how could he simply walk away and not save at least one of them.

Sensing his uncertainty, Baddiel called out "One of you is going upstairs. Who wants to go?"

His cruel taunt caused a mad rush as all but one of the Kítech rushed forwards and fell to their knees in front of the door, their urge to protect each other lost in the scramble to prove themselves the most biddable and desirable.

Chakotay looked helplessly into their desperate pleading eyes.

He immediately dismissed the children from his decision. As much as they were the ones he most wanted to save, he could no more take a child as a sexual partner than he could eat their meat. He looked at the other Kítech and saw one who reminded him of Tate. It was stupid, he knew, but still the boy drew his eyes.

Even so the sight of the Kítech who hadnít moved constantly distracted him. He was curled in a traumatised ball in the far end of the cage. His long golden hair hid his face but his limbs were long and curiously thin for a Kítech.

Chakotay shook his head. He was traumatised enough himself without taking on a mad Kítech. He looked again at the boy who reminded him of Tate and then frowned. The passing resemblance had faded and offered no real comfort.

Again his eyes were drawn to the lone Kítech.

Baddiel noticed his interest and smiled. The Kítech was too old and skinny to be of much use. Stringy mutton, thatís all the boy was. He decided to try and get the barbarian to take him. He wouldnít know any better and it would save the decent stock for the oven.

"Heís a real pretty little thing." He assured Chakotay.

"Whatís wrong with him?" Chakotay challenged.

"Well the cage does that to them sometimes. Heís not always that quiet. He actually escaped the cage when we first loaded, thatís why heís so skinny. He must have wandered around starving for weeks before we found him again." Baddiel said in wonder "He screamed all kinds of nonsense when the guards brought him back but I knocked the fight out of him."

"You beat him?" Chakotay asked sadly.

"I fucked him til he couldnít walk, so heís well broken in. I keep telling him heís on the menu and he pisses himself, but the truth is heís still too skinny," Baddiel admitted.

"I want to see him," Chakotay muttered. One half of him was insisting he didnít need this extra grief and the other half was filled with admiration for a Kítech who had finally tried to escape his tragic destiny.

Baddiel turned on the hose. The other kítech screamed and ran to huddle in the far corner. Chakotay understood why as the water shot out with punishing pressure. Baddiel turned the hose on the lone Kítech, Chakotay saw the boy try to escape the lash of the water but every time he tired to move the water battered him down again. Then Baddiel liberally sprayed the other Kítech. The water bowled them over like nine-pins and when he finally turned the hose off the cage was filled with whimpering bodies, all flat to the ground and refusing to move.

"What did you do that for?" Chakotay hissed in outrage.

"Iím not stupid enough to let you get in the cage without reminding them first of the penalty for disobedience," Baddiel snorted, "they may be Kítech but thereís still forty of them in here."

He unlocked the padlock and swung the door open to allow Chakotay to enter, and then he stood guard with the hose and looked hopefully for movement. He quite fancied having to turn the hose back on with the barbarian still in the cage. Sadly the Kítech didnít co-operate.

Chakotay cautiously approached the Kítech he was interested in. The water had knocked the Kítech flat on his face and his long limbs were sprawled gracelessly. Chakotay felt his cock stiffen at the boyís firm muscular ass, so different from the usual plump Kítech buttocks. He was glad now of the water because he could barely smell any Kítech aroma on the boy.

The Kítechís hair trailed in wet strands about the long neck and pale, slightly freckled shoulders. Chakotay reached down and touched the thin shoulder and the Kítech flinched in terror.

"Donít be frightened, I wonít hurt you." Chakotay soothed and he felt the Kítech stiffen in surprise.

"I promise, youíll be safe with me." Chakotay continued and the Kítech gasped, pushed himself up from the floor on unsteady hands and turned to look at Chakotay in bewilderment.

Chakotay found himself looking straight into the face of Thomas Eugene Paris.