THE SHATTERING OF THE MASK 8/?
By Morticia

C/P

Disclaimer Ė part 1

Tomís wary eyes watched Chakotay with suspicion. The big man was in unusual good humour tonight. Several times he had felt the brown eyes gazing at him as he knelt quietly in position and each time he had glanced across he had seen the shadow of an amused smile playing on Chakotayís lips. He shuddered as he tried to imagine what the Commander was plotting.

Chakotay himself was warring with a decision between the satisfaction of watching the potentially entertaining scene of Tom being caught unprepared, versus the worry that Tom would react in a way that would embarrass him. Finally the Commander decided that the possible pleasure was not worth the risk. He would warn Tom and thereby secure his co-operation.

"I have a surprise for you, Tom" Chakotay purred, his smile widening at Tomís wary expression.

"I have visitors tonight. Wonít that be pleasant !" he drawled as Tomís eyes widened in surprise.

Tom had not seen another person, save Chakotay, for over three weeks now. His world revolved around waiting for Chakotay, like a shuttle caught in the magnetic flux of a black hole, being dragged relentlessly to destruction.

Every morning Chakotay would Ďlock-downí his quarters as he left, trapping Tom inside. Without access to the computer or replicator or even the bedroom , Tom would be left alone and unoccupied for 14-18 hours daily. He would pace restlessly like a caged lion for several hours and then curl in a miserable ball on the couch and try to sleep. At 18.00 hours precisely he would rise as though programmed to prepare himself thoroughly in the bathroom and then would kneel in Ďhis placeí , eyes fixed expectantly on the door like a dog patiently awaiting his masterís return. Sometimes Chakotay would arrive within an hour or two of the end of shift. Sometimes it would be as late as midnight. The forced inactivity was maddening to him. To his shame, the highlight of his day had become Chakotayís return.

For long hours he would contemplate this fact. How he simultaneously dreaded the Commanderís presence whilst he prayed that Chakotay would not return too late. How his stomach churned in a strange mix of anticipation and dread. How he was filled with happy relief if Chakotay arrived in a good mood whilst even the smallest of frowns on Chakotayís face would make him quiver in terror.

Now Chakotay had thrown a curved ball. The edges of Tomís reality blurred in confusion. Tom had almost begun to believe that he and Chakotay were alone on the ship. No-one had called him or visited him for so long that it was not beyond belief that the rest of the crew had completely disappeared. They had evidently forgotten that Tom Paris even existed.

Surely if people were coming, Chakotay would have to cover up his treatment of Tom, as he had so many times previously. Tom would have to smile and pretend nothing was wrong. Chakotay would orchestrate the situation so no one saw beneath the illusion. But the thought of conversation, of seeing another face, of being treated however temporarily as a real person was so tempting, so wonderful that Tom was prepared to willingly act the role Chakotay demanded.

No, he realised abruptly, his brief illusion of hope shattered, Chakotay had not said Ďtheyí had visitors, he had said ĎIí. Perhaps Chakotay was going to drug him again and put him to bed to explain his absence. That was more likely, Tom admitted to himself with regret. Chakotay would not want to run the risk of disclosure. Tomís stomach churned at the memory of the drugís effects. He would do anything to avoid that happening again.

Chakotay watched the confused emotions chasing across Tomís vulnerable features for several minutes before graciously saying

"You may speak"

"VÖVÖVisitors?" Tom queried nervously

"A few friends to play poker with me, Iím getting fed up of only having your company, Tom. You bore me. Youíre no fun anymore!"

"And whoís fault is that?" Tom thought bitterly, surprised at how much Chakotayís casual words stung him. Obviously Chakotay did not want Tom involved in his eveningís entertainment. Perhaps if he was compliant, Chakotay would not use the hypospray.

"WÖWÖWhere do you want me to go?" Tom mumbled in his humblest voice

"I donít want you to go anywhere, Tom" Chakotay replied smugly,

"Shall IÖshall I get dressed, then?"

"No"

The single word filled Tom with dread.

"ButÖbut" he stammered in consternation

"Donít concern yourself. Thereís no-one coming who will mind." Chakotay laughed

"I mind" Tom screamed silently, knowing from Chakotayís feral grin that the Indian had heard the unspoken protest.

"Most of them have already seen what youíve got to offer, Tom., so thereís no point in feeling shy!" Chakotay mocked

Tom shuddered miserably as the implication of that sank in. Tears of humiliation pooled in distressed blue eyes and Tom blinked rapidly to control them

"IÖI... canít" he whispered brokenly.

Gods, he had barely learnt to tolerate Chakotayís eyes on him whilst he was in this naked and vulnerable position. The thought of other people witnessing his debasement was too much to handle. The urge to jump to his feet and attack the bastard before him was the first strong emotion he had felt in weeks. He tried to launch himself at the Commander but nothing happened. He couldnít make his traitorous body obey. He simply quivered and trembled with repressed wrath and defeat.

"You may as well get used to the idea. I have curtailed my activities long enough to protect your feelings, to allow you to adjust to the situation. Itís time you stopped being so selfish!"

Tom blinked in astonishment at Chakotayís tone of aggrieved martyrdom.

"Just a word or warning, Tom. I have a reputation to uphold. I do not want anybody to think that Iím not able to control my own slut. If you do anything to embarrass me., if you fail in any way to obey me tonight in front of my friends, you will regret it! You will PUBLICLY regret it!" Chakotay emphasised.

Thus, when the chime sounded at Chakotayís door, Tom made no effort to conceal himself from the guests. He merely bowed his head and flushed with absolute mortification as Chakotayís friends entered with loud exclamations of appreciation at the view before them.

That two of the guests were Dalby and Ayala came as little surprise and he vaguely remembered Crewman Mike "Smitty" Smith as one of Chakotayís cronies from the Crazy Horse. Tom was aghast, however, when the young Bajoran, Geron, entered on Ayalaís heels. His astonishment grew when Geron proceeded to wordlessly strip off his clothes , folding them neatly by the door, until his pale naked frame was revealed. Finally naked he padded quietly over to Tomís Ďplaceí and sinking beside him, adopted position.

Tom risked a furtive sideways glance. The young Bajoranís face was oddly serene above his naked body. Two vicious looking nipple clamps punctuated his smooth, hairless chest. His small penis jutted out proudly from a tight cock-ring and Tom could see that the swollen glans was pierced with a gold ring from which a thin chain dangled into a heap on the floor between Geronís legs.

When the players were seated, Ayala snapped his fingers and the Bajoran jumped to his feet and hurried forwards. At Chakotayís nod of approval he raided the replicator for refreshments and served each of the players in turn. As he passed Ayala, the big crewman grabbed the chain that dangled from Geronís cock and hauled him roughly between his own legs. Tom watched in horror as Geron was forced to his knees. He watched the young man open Ayalaís trousers and suck him off noisily, in front of a rapt appreciative audience.

Feeling intense empathy for the young crewman, even as he prayed selfishly that Chakotay spared him the same fate, Tom was unprepared for the sight of Geron rising gracefully from his satiated partner with a wide smile. As he watched the Bajoran licking his lips like a cat who had been given cream, Tom was suddenly consumed with astonished hate.

The little bastard had enjoyed it!

Tom watched wide-eyed as Ayala slapped Geron lightly on his firm buttocks and shoved him towards Smitty who was leering in anticipation.. Again, Geron sank to his knees without protest and eagerly serviced the waiting cock. He finished Smitty with a huge slurp and crawling around to Dalby he unhesitatingly buried his head in the waiting lap.

Tom watched the performance in disbelief, noting that Ayala was smiling broadly, taking pride in the gratified reactions of his friends to Geronís hungry mouth. Finally Geron turned and looked coyly at Chakotay from beneath long soft lashes. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips in invitation. Chakotay ignored the offer, instead he turned and locked eyes with Tom. He raised his eyebrows slightly in an ironic invitation to Tom to take over . Tom glared back defiantly, determined not to move until he had proved that he was being forced to comply and damn the consequences. Chakotay merely shrugged in amusement as though he had expected Tomís insolence and was therefore unconcerned by it.

Tom shook with relief as Chakotay instead cocked a finger at the waiting Bajoran.

With a wide smile, Geron crawled to Chakotay, hesitating momentarily in awe at the enormous penis, before with a grin of appreciation he opened his mouth widely and swallowed. Tom, who was furtively watching with satisfaction at Chakotayís failure to force the issue, was overwhelmed by an unexpected feeling of outrage. He flinched as with a wide dimpled grin the big man ruffled the Bajoranís hair fondly as his cock was sucked dry. At the very moment of release he looked up and met Tomís furious eyes and smiled mockingly.

Tom almost choked when he witnessed Chakotayís gesture of affection to Geron.

"Fuck you, you bastard," he thought. "You never do that to me! You never smile at me or touch me like that!"

He was beside himself with fury. He couldnít believe how fucking resentful he was of that smile. The fucking slut had been all over Chakotay. HIS Chakotay! Oh, God, had he really thought that? Thought of Chakotay as his? Yes, he was jealous, fucking jealous and that was crazy, wasnít it? How fucked up was he if he didnít know whether to be glad Chakotay had not touched him or mad with jealousy because he had taken Geron instead?

 "Hi!" Geron whispered softly as he returned to Tomís side, still licking the traces of Chakotayís semen from his swollen lips.

Tom ignored him , snapping his gaze forwards again to see whether Chakotay was watching.

"Itís alright!" Geron re-assured him, "Greg said we could talk as long as weíre quiet and donít disturb them!"

"Greg?"

"My master, Gregor Ayala, he allows me to call him Greg" Geron replied with evident pride. "And donít worry, he wouldnít have said it if Chakotay hadnít agreed!"

Tom was suddenly swamped by a tidal wave of black rage. His anger was so intense that he feared he might explode. This little cock-sucking bastard seemed happy to be Ayalaís slut and evidently thought Tom felt the same way about Chakotay, which was embarrassing enough, but it hadnít stopped him crawling all over the Commander , right in front of Tomís eyes!

"What the fuck do I want to talk to you for?" he snarled viciously , his rigid posture shaken by tremors of fury.

Geron blinked in surprise.

"I thought it would be nice, you know, having a friend" he replied softly, "Someone who understands."

"Understands what? That youíre some perverted little slag who likes to be treated like a sex-toy? Crawling all over Chakotay like he belongs to you! Forget it! You and I have NOTHING to talk about! You want Chakotay? Fucking have the bastard, itís nothing to me. I hate him! I hate you!"

Geron swayed with the force of the unexpected aggression, blinking in confusion at Tomís words before understanding dawned.. Tom was obviously in denial. Heíd been there himself once. Tom didnít yet understand how fortunate he was to have been offered this lifestyle. That was obviously why Greg had taken him aside before the visit and ordered him to make friends with the Pilot. Greg expected him to teach Tom to appreciate his unique situation.

Geron suddenly swelled with pride at Gregís trust in him. He wouldnít let his master down, he decided. Squaring his shoulders resolutely, he began his attempt to win Tomís trust.

"Iím so sorry, Tom. I didnít realise that you didnít want this!" he whispered in a compassionate voice. "I understand that you must hate me for seeing you like this. Hate me for being a willing participant in something that distresses you so much. But I donít understand why you hate me for pleasing Chakotay? Since you donít want him, why do you care if I do?"

"I DONíT KNOW" Tom spat

"Why exactly are you mad at me?"

"I donít know" Tom whispered, defeated by his own confusion

"I know you donít want to be my friend but it looks to me like you donít have anyone else to talk to about this. You obviously donít know WHAT you want. Why not at least use me as a way of letting your frustration out?" Geron continued reasonably "I promise I wonít repeat anything you say. You can trust me because Iím not one of THEM." And he nodded towards the four men at the table who were completely ignoring them as they laughed and drank and dealt cards.

Beside him Tom began to shake. Oh, god he needed a friend. He needed someone to talk to, someone to understand what he was going through before he went completely mad. Before he broke under the effort of reconciling his hatred for Chakotay with his growing jealousy at the thought of anyone else touching him

But he didnít know Geron, at least he had barely exchanged a dozen words with him since they had arrived in the DQ. He had had no idea of the Bajoranís secret life. How could he reach out and make himself vulnerable to this man when he didnít know whether this was a plot of Chakotayís to trick him into saying things he shouldnít. A way to find more reasons to punish him. As if the Commander needed a reason!

"IÖIÖ canít. I donít dare" he whispered, "I canít trust you, I canít trust anyone!" and he ducked his head to hide the tears that had begun to stream silently down his face.

"Itís okay, Tom, we can take it slow. Thereís plenty of time. Weíll be coming here a lot. Before you moved in Chakotay had a poker night every week. Iím sure that after tonight things will be back to normal. We can get to know each other. When you know me better youíll maybe want to talk and Iíll be here!" Geron replied gently. "You can ask me anything and Iíll try to explain it. You can tell me your pain and I will understand it.! "

"No, you wonít" Tom replied bitterly, "You accept this. You fucking enjoy this! How the hell can you possibly understand how I feel?"

"Well maybe youíre right, but from where Iím sitting you donít seem to have any other people beating at your door to be your friend. "

 "Some friend." Tom sulked

"Maybe Iím the best you deserve, Tom" Geron replied cruelly, tired of the conversation.

Tom shuddered as the barb went home.

For the rest of the long evening , Tom refused to speak or respond to him. Geron began to fear that he had blown it . As the game drew to a close and Ayala motioned to Geron to get dressed to leave, he felt sick at the prospect of admitting to Greg that he had failed. Therefore he was very pleasantly surprised when he heard Tomís soft whisper of "Goodbye".

"Bye, Tom" he whispered back with relief, "See you next week."

TBC