The Shattering of the Mask 11
By Morticia

See part 1 for disclaimers

Tom lay weeping deliriously, crushed under Chakotayís bulk. Chakotayís sweat was trickling like sharp needles into the torn and battered skin of his ass. His insides were burning; he ached with the throbbing bruises growing on his hips and groin from Chakotayís cruel hands, yet he had never felt so sexually satisfied in his life. He sobbed with shame at having responded so passionately to the dark and dangerous man who had taken him so brutally and yet with such skill.

As always, the sensations of pain and pleasure had merged until the ecstasy of the sexual stimulation had completely negated the humiliation and he had shamelessly writhed in complete abandon under the Commander's assault. But now, all he could feel was the agony of his abused ass and the bitter knowledge of his own helplessness to resist. Now Chakotay knew that he WAS the whore that the Maquis had proclaimed him and he would never escape the bastard's clutches.

Maybe he deserved this, Tom told himself despairingly. Perhaps Chakotay's abuse of him was justified. He was Tom's punishment for Caldik Prime, after all. Tom could almost see the ghosts of his dead comrades mocking him, their accusing fingers harsh and unforgiving as he suffered his own unending private hell.

Chakotay listened to Tom's sobs quieting and felt the blonde's heaving shoulders began to cease their trembles until Tom lay still and passive beneath him. Chakotay couldnít wait any longer for a confrontation and rolling heavily off the slender pilot he turned Tom's tear ravaged features over to face him.

"Well? Wasnít it worth begging for?" he demanded, staring deeply into Tomís glazed eyes with an almost pleading expression that stunned the younger man.

Chakotay watched a myriad of emotions chase over Tomís face. Anger, fear, confusion and embarrassment warred on the pale features as he evidently processed their shared sexual encounter and weighed the pain against the bodily pleasure that he couldn't deny having experienced. He watched as Tom gave a slow reluctant nod.

"Yes, Sir" Tom said honestly, in a soft defeated voice.

Chakotay jumped with barely contained excitement at the curiously familiar expression on Tomís face.

"How do you feel? Right now? What are you thinking at this moment?" He demanded urgently.

Tom shook his head helplessly, unable to vocalize his bewildering emotions. He was too frightened of saying the wrong thing and provoking Chakotay back into renewed cruelty. For a moment he was actually tempted to admit that he now acknowledged that his treatment at Chakotay's hands was no more than he deserved.

"Donít THINK about it, Simon. Just say it, here and now. What do you feel?" Chakotay demanded harshly as he grasped Tomís thin shoulders and shook him savagely until his teeth chattered.

Tom cowered under the assault and yet his mind raced furiously as he heard Chakotay call him by Simonís name again. An almost forgotten spirit of defiance sparked deep inside him.

Chakotay was insane, he realised. Completely, certifiably, stark raving mad. And if that was true, then why the hell should the big man's treatment of him be any less crazy?  He DIDN'T deserve to be treated like this - no one did, and his physical reaction to the abuse was involuntary, a Pavlovian response inbuilt by years of being raped and assaulted.  Assaults that it turned out  had all been orchestrated by this same maniac Maquis warrior.

Tom realised that his physical reactions had been carefully trained by Chakotay ,and the other Maquis in his pay, until his mind barely knew the difference between pleasure and pain. His battered soul, so desperate to make reparation for something that could never be made right, had latched inexorably on the abuse as being a punishment that he deserved. But no one deserved to be treated this way, he realised belatedly. Chakotay didn't even realise that he WAS Tom Paris, so this wasn't personal redemption; it was just pointless sadism after all.

Yet, perhaps this bizarre manipulation of his psyche by Chakotay could become the key to his freedom.

Chakotay wanted Simon; he loved Simon, even if it was in a sick and diseased way. Tomís only hope of ever gaining his freedom was if he cleverly played to Chakotayís madness and pretended to BE Simon, just as Geron had suggested.

"I love you, Sir." Tom mumbled and then ducked his head as though in defeat.

Chakotay grasped Tomís face in delight and forced the younger man to look at him. Tom flinched in terror that he had miscalculated but then relaxed minutely as he recognised the gleeful triumph that blazed in Chakotayís eyes, softening his harsh face.

"Do you have any idea how long I have waited to hear that, Simon? Eight long years. Eight years ago I looked at you and knew that you would come back to me, that you would give me a second chance, that you would be mine. That I would teach you to love me again!" Chakotay crowed jubilantly.

I know, Tom thought, I know exactly what you believed, you mad fucker. I know everything and I understand everything now. It was you all along, playing on my insecurities, making me believe I deserved to be hurt, breaking my body and my spirit. But no more, you bastard, no more!

Yet he was still ridiculously moved by the tears that were freely pouring down Chakotayís face. It was difficult to hold on to his pure fire of righteous anger as he was simultaneously consumed by a strange sympathy for the big man as Chakotayís deranged words continued to gush excitedly.

"I knew you had forgotten what we had shared; that you hated me for killing you. But I knew I could get you back. Knew I could bring you to this point, knew I could recreate the taste in you for the kind of pleasures that we enjoy together. It took a long time for you to learn these lessons, Simon, and you have only got yourself to blame for all the pain you have suffered in resisting me. In trying to punish me for killing you when it was YOUR FAULT!"

Tom listened with growing alarm. He had not fully realised until now just how completely Chakotay had lost himself in his fantasy. He hadnít fully understood before how tenuous Chakotayís grasp on reality had become. How the hell was Chakotay maintaining his public mask of  sanity? The thin veneer must surely be cracking under the weight of this much inner confusion.  Yet the more convinced he became of Chakotay's insanity, the stronger his new feelings of self-preservation became. Chakotay was on the edge, ready to explode into total madness and the resultant debris would shatter everyone around him. Tom was determined not to be left broken in the wake.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay." He mumbled placatingly.

"Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? Letting other people take you? Preparing you so that I wouldnít hurt you like before? And all you have done is complain and gripe like a selfish child. You have fought me every step of the way. It was YOUR fault. All of it." Chakotay sobbed bitterly.

"I know itís all been my fault, Chakotay." Tom whispered quietly, careful to keep any accusation from his voice. "I do love you Chakotay and I want to stay with you but - but you have to stop hurting me if we are going to be together."

Tom held his breath as Chakotay absorbed his hesitant words. For a moment the older manís face softened further and he traced Tomís bruises with his fingertips as though shamed. Then his eyes blazed again.

"This is how YOU wanted it, Simon. You TOLD me this was how you wanted me to be. You BEGGED me to let you be my slave!" He accused furiously.

Shit. If you werenít dead, Simon, Iíd kill you myself you stupid sick bastard! Tom thought as Chakotayís fingers tightened brutally on his bruised hips.

"Youíre right, Chakotay, I did." Tom agreed soothingly "But itís only supposed to be a game. A private game. Like Ayala and Geron play. Itís not supposed to really hurt me or stop me doing my job on Voyager."

Chakotay blinked uncertainly and Tom held his breath as the older man looked at him thoughtfully. Without warning, Chakotay ran a fingernail sharply up Tomís penis and smirked as Tomís body jerked back to arousal at his touch.

"You seem to like the games I do play, well enough." He sneered.

Fresh tears of humiliation pooled in Tomís terrified eyes but were quickly blinked away. Even crazed with fear, now that he had identified that his recent ambivalent feelings towards Chakotay were really a textbook case of Stockholm syndrome, Tom felt more in control. It had been natural for him to develop such a dependant relationship with someone who had wielded such a ruthless power over his life. Chakotay had been grooming him for this role, had trained him like a laboratory animal until he couldnít help but respond sexually to the abuse he suffered.

Knowing this, he could control his feelings and use his body's reactions to his advantage.

"I do like them, Chakotay, you can tell I do." Tom lied quickly, pointing at his own engorged cock as evidence of his sincerity "But we donít have to play them 24/7. There's no reason for you to keep me locked up here all the time. You KNOW I want you as much as you want me, so there's no reason to keep me prisoner any more." He wheedled softly, stroking Chakotay's groin suggestively.

"Do you think Iím stupid?" Chakotay barked furiously

Tom flinched in expectation of another beating. Chakotay had obviously seen through his attempt to escape, he thought, so the other manís next words stunned him.

"I know what a tramp you are, Simon. If I let you out of here youíll fuck the first guy who comes along and asks you. Youíre like a cat on heat. You're just a Cardassian catamite. I can't trust you."

Tom gasped in amazement and had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself laughing hysterically at the insane accusation. When he could trust himself to speak, Tom replied carefully:

"I know I USED to be like that, Chakotay, but I was a prisoner of the Cardassians. I didn't have any choice." Tom frantically ad-libbed "But now I'm yours. I love you and I swear I will never touch another man." Tom said. The last part was certainly true, he thought, once he escaped this madman it would be a cold day in hell before he let anyone near his ass again.

"Iím tired of fighting you. Iím weary of you mind-fucking me, Simon. You are MINE and you will do as I say, and you will stay here as long as I want you to and stop your whining about it." Chakotay growled fiercely, clenching his fists.

"Yes Sir, Iím sorry, Sir." Tom replied humbly.

He lowered his eyes in apparent defeat but continued to stroke Chakotay to hardness. The older man watched his actions warily but simply waited to find out what his intentions were. He could do this, Tom told himself as he lowered his mouth to Chakotay's weeping cock and swallowed. Fighting the instinctive urge to gag, he relaxed his throat and massaged the thick cock with his tongue. He could hear Chakotay's breathing shorten in surprise and then the Commander grabbed his hair with eye-watering tightness and began to thrust in and out of Tom's mouth. Tom sucked and siphoned, listening carefully to Chakotay's answering grunts and employing all his hard-won talents until the other man roared and came. Tom swallowed enthusiastically until Chakotay's cock softened and slipped out of his mouth and then he looked up at the Commander with a seductive smile and slowly licked his lips. Chakotay's eyes met his in confusion. Tom merely continued to smile and then he reached up tentatively and kissed Chakotay on the lips. For a moment Chakotay stiffened, tasting his own cum in Tom's sweet mouth and then he roughly grabbed Tom in a huge bear hug and responded to Tom's kiss with a passion that made Tom smirk inside. He COULD do this, he realised. He could pretend to be in love with the Commander and that he actually enjoyed the abuse. Eventually Chakotay would let down his guard and begin to trust him and then he would finally get a chance to escape. Until then he would just bide his time and be the obedient slave Chakotay wanted. At least he wouldnít have to fake his orgasms; his body was fucked up enough to respond sexually to Chakotayís treatment of him. He would just have to pretend that his mind had been equally won over.. It wouldnít be too hard to pretend to love the man, he told himself. At least Chakotay was good-looking and understood personal hygiene, which was more than could be said for most of the inmates at Auckland. In fact, when he wasn't beating the shit out of him, Chakotay was reasonably pleasant to be around. Perhaps if Chakotay had approached him in a normal fashion he might have even been genuinely tempted by the big man's smoldering passion. Tom shook his head angrily at his own thoughts. It was a weakness to humanize Chakotay, to look for good points to weigh against the bad, and yet it wasnít Chakotayís fault that he was such a sadistic bastard, after all. He was ill. He was in love with a ghost for god's sake! He should no more hate Chakotay for being mentally ill than he if the Commander had contracted a terrible virus, he convinced himself. Chakotay meanwhile was stunned by Tomís sudden capitulation. The blondeís unmistakable passion, his declaration of love and his new attitude of willing subservience were what he had dreamed of for so many years that he completely dismissed the suspicions that fleetingly occurred to him. With the arrogance of his insanity, his mind began to rewrite the past weeks, re-interpreting all of Tomís resistance as being in fact just part of a game they had both willingly played. Tom enjoyed being punished, so perhaps his behavior had just been an attempt to make Chakotay fulfill his designated role, he decided, and then he tested the theory. "You should be punished, I think, for questioning me." Chakotay said thoughtfully. "Perhaps THAT is why you questioned me, because you WANTED to be punished. Am I right?" "Yes Sir! I want you to punish me please." Tom lied, instinctively understanding that it was the right answer even as his battered body began to shiver with terror. He COULD do this, he reminded himself fiercely. Chakotay misinterpreted his trembling as anticipation and smiled fondly at the younger man. "You see. You really DO like this game. Go fetch the paddle." He conceded generously. "Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir!" Tom whispered bravely and dragged himself painfully off the bed towards the drawer where the paddle was kept. His hand shook slightly as he picked it up but he forced himself to stay calm. He limped back to the Commander, handed it over and folded himself over the other manís knees with a display of eagerness. Chakotay, now finding himself oddly disturbed by the discolored skin, began to apply only light strokes to Tomís bruised ass cheeks. Despite the relative gentleness of the blows, they were agonising on top of the existing damage and Tom howled unashamedly and then arched into his usual involuntary orgasm. Between sobs Tom found enough breath to gasp, "Thank you, Sir.", although the words nearly choked him. Chakotay looked fondly at the bruised and bleeding body of his beloved, and simply said "Iím very pleased with you, Simon, you may sleep in the bed tonight" And with a curiously mixed feeling of triumph and self-disgust, Tom obediently crept under the covers and crawled into Chakotayís waiting arms. ~~~ Tom was woken by the sensation of being ripped apart from the inside. He was face down on the bed, his face pressed into the pillow by Chakotay's bulk and his legs spread at an unnatural angle to accommodate the huge cock that filled his ass. His abraded passage was burning with the friction of Chakotay's eager thrusts. For a moment he panicked and struggled helplessly against the assault and then his head cleared as memories of the night before returned and he realised that the price of his possible freedom was that he should suffer this agony without resistance. Deciding the fastest way to stop the agony was to bring the Commander to completion, he clutched at the sheet beneath him, his fingers clawing against the fabric for purchase, and then he pistoned his hips in invitation to the invader. Chakotay groaned in ecstasy as his lover welcomed his advances and thrust back to absorb him deeper into his body. Tom's enthusiastic response was enough to take him over the edge and he shot his load deep into the younger man's hot depths with a cry of triumph. Tom bit down on the pillow to prevent a scream of combined agony and relief as Chakotay's cum filled his passage and he felt the Commander soften and withdraw, rolling his weight off and collapsing on the bed next to him in satisfaction. When he was sure he could control his nausea, Tom turned on his side, flinching at the renewed agony in his insides and he turned his face towards Chakotay. Chakotay's breathing steadied and he regarded the blonde suspiciously. Tom's face was ravaged by fresh tears and his blue eyes were dull with pain
"Why are you crying, Simon?" He demanded "Because I'm happy, Chakotay." Tom lied. The furrows on the Commander's forehead smoothed and a delighted smile lit his face, creasing his cheeks into dimples and displaying his even white teeth. Then doubt danced in the brown eyes. "Did I hurt you?" He asked solicitously. Tom blinked uncertainly. He couldn't keep up with the Commander's mood swings. It was almost impossible to judge the correct response to maintain Chakotay's illusions. However, the burning fire in his ass was so agonising he doubted that he could even walk this morning, so he decided that a lie would be too easily found out. "Yes, Chakotay," he mumbled quietly. "Get on your hands and knees." Chakotay barked angrily and Tom complied with a shudder, dragging his body into the required position and trembling in terror. Chakotay sat up and crawled to kneel behind him, then placed his large hands on Tom's bruised ass and roughly pulled his cheeks apart to reveal the raw red skin between. Tom clenched his teeth in anticipation of another assault, only to jerk in surprise as Chakotay leant forward and slowly rimmed his sore ass with a wet caressing tongue. Chakotay then kissed the puckered opening, regarding the torn skin with dismay. "You are SO stupid, Simon." He hissed angrily, "Why didn't you tell me that I had hurt you so badly?" Tom nearly collapsed in shock at Chakotay's bitter complaint. What the hell had the mad fucker expected after his multiple rapes over the last few hours? "I'm sorry, Chakotay." He whispered, unable to think of anything more sensible to say under the circumstances. Chakotay hauled himself off the bed and stomped off into the bathroom where he rummaged in the cabinet until he located a dermal regenerator. Then he returned to his position behind Tom's buttocks and began to run the regenerator over the wounds he had inflicted. "This is supposed to be a GAME, Simon." Chakotay snapped "You are supposed to stop me if it actually hurts you this badly! How can we do this if I can't trust you to tell me when I go too far?" Tom shuddered with confusion. How the hell could he keep one step ahead of someone as obviously schizophrenic as Chakotay? After the gleeful way Chakotay had abused him, the Commander was now blaming HIM for what had happened. Yet the blissful relief from pain as the older man wielded the regenerator was enough to still his automatic voice of protest. He would do or say anything to keep Chakotay in this new mood of reconciliation. He fell back on old faithful. "I'm sorry." He said, understanding that it was the phrase that most pacified the Commander. Chakotay only grunted in response but he continued to wave his magic wand over Tom's ass so the pilot breathed heavily in relief. When the worst of the internal damage was repaired and the black bruises on Tom's ass cheeks had dulled to a pale yellowish-green, Chakotay rose, cheerfully slapped Tom's ass forcefully enough to make the pilot crash back into a prone position, and climbed off the bed. Tom heard him moving about in the bathroom, actually humming to himself as he got ready for shift. Unsure of what else to do, he simply lay there and waited for Chakotay's next unpredictable action. But Chakotay completely ignored him as he got dressed and prepared to leave. It was not until the Commander was actually walking out of the door that he seemed to remember Tom's presence and turned to address him. "Get some sleep, " He barked "Then clean yourself and this place up. I'll be back at 1800." And without further comment he left. Tom listened to the door whispering shut and simply lay there, half-expecting Chakotay to return. Previously he had always been locked in the living area, he had never before been left with access to the bedroom. The thought slowly occurred to him that if Chakotay had forgotten to shut him out of the bedroom, he might also have forgotten to lock down the quarters. He leapt out of bed and ran to the terminal. It was dead. He approached the door furtively. It refused to open at his request. Okay, he decided, nothing had changed. Except at the same time everything had changed. The game had just become stacked a tiny fraction in his favour. It was a start. He could even face the knowledge that the abuse would continue for an indefinite period more, as long as Chakotay was now prepared to heal the damage he inflicted. He had managed to put a tiny dent in Chakotay's armour and he could keep working on it, bit by bit, until freedom was finally in his grasp. And in this newfound feeling of hope, he decided 'what the hell' and crawled back into the delicious softness of the bed, luxuriating in its comfort after his weeks of sleeping on the cold unforgiving floor.