By Morticia


(Sequel to " RIVALRY")


Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Tom, Chak et al belong to Paramount. I am only playing with them and promise to put them back relatively unscathed.

Chakotay hurried down the corridor towards the bridge, cursing himself soundly for his own stupidity.

He knew that it had been a mistake to admit to Tom that he loved him. Tom didn’t understand what love meant. He was probably laughing at him right now. He would probably see Chakotay’s admission as a weapon to use against him.

Chakotay had just been so horrified by Tom’s sobbing that he had acted instinctively to comfort him. It just wasn’t in Chakotay’s character to be so mean as he had forced himself to be to the young pilot. Although he was positive that Tom needed to learn the lessons he was teaching him, it was one thing to decide that intellectually and another thing entirely to stand and watch the consequences of his actions.

Chakotay couldn’t even comfort himself with the fact that he hadn’t orchestrated B’Elanna’s attack. The truth was that Tom wouldn’t have been in the Cargo Bay with Seven if Chakotay hadn’t made him so desperate to get laid.

The only good thing that had come out of this was that he was positive Tom wouldn’t dare find anybody else today with a mad half-Klingon on the loose and it was also highly unlikely that Tom would ever go near B’Elanna again either.


Unsurprisingly, as Tom lay on the bed having his butt regenerated by a sniggering hologram he was coming to the same conclusion.

There was no way he was going to let his ass, or any other part of his anatomy, near that mad Klingon bitch B’Elanna. God, it wasn’t as if he was married to the silly cow. He couldn’t for the life of him imagine why she had been so jealous.

Shit, everyone knew that he slept with whomever he liked. He was in control. He chose. At least that’s what he had always believed.

On the other hand, he wasn’t stupid enough to tempt fate and go looking for another sexual partner today.

Damn, if only he’d managed to finish the act it would have been worth getting beaten up for, but Seven had read some bloody sex manual and insisted on a minimum of 30 minutes of oral foreplay before he was allowed anywhere near her with his dick.

Admittedly he had quickly lost his raging erection when B’Elanna’s teeth had taken a chunk out of his butt, but the urge was still unsatisfied. If anything getting so close had just scratched the itch.

And speaking of itches, what the bloody hell was wrong with the Captain?

Maybe all the women of Voyager were being infected by some weird hormonal problem. He’d just have to stick to the men for now.

Just as long as he avoided the Commander.

Tom couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. He’d let his lust for the big man blind him to the obvious signs. The jealousy, the possessiveness, the spanking. Yeah, exactly, that should have been a big enough clue.

Chakotay loved him, and Tom knew what love was. Tom knew what people who loved you did to you and he wasn’t ever going to get caught in THAT trap again.


After a restless half-hour on the bridge, Chakotay quietly conned the Doc for an update on Tom.

"I regenerated his injuries and then sent him to his quarters to sleep"

"I doubt he’ll get that far" Chakotay snapped morosely

"Well I gave him a sedative to knock him out for at least eight hours, and then had him transported directly to his quarters only a couple of minutes before it would take effect. I think I can safely say that the Lieutenant is currently sleeping like a baby" The Doctor replied smugly

"Thanks Doc, I owe you" Chakotay murmured. He finally relaxed in the knowledge that Tom was finally getting some much-needed rest.


"No daddy, don’t. Please daddy" Tommy sobbed piteously

His father continued to unfasten his belt and then curled the buckle end firmly around his hand.

"NOOOO Daddy" Tommy whimpered as his father hauled his wet pajama bottoms down and threw him face down onto the sodden mattress.

"You wet the bed again, Tom. How many times have I told you that a Paris doesn’t wet his bed?"


The leather cut sharply against Tommy’s bare backside, raising an immediate welt.

Tommy screamed in pain and his father immediately struck him again.

"A Paris doesn’t scream, Tommy. A Paris takes his punishment like a man. You’re not a baby, Tom. You are five years old. It’s time you grew up!"

"I’m sorry, Daddy" Tommy wailed, biting his lips furiously to stop his cries. He knew his daddy wouldn’t stop hitting him until he stopped crying out.

Finally, the Admiral decided that Tom had learnt his lesson. He put the belt back on.

"Okay, Tom. Get up and strip your bed before anyone else discovers how bad you have been."

"Yes, daddy, I’m sorry daddy" Tommy snuffled miserably as he hauled himself painfully to his feet

"You understand why I punished you don’t you?" His father asked

"Yes, daddy, because I was bad" Tommy sobbed


"And because you love me, daddy."

"That’s right, Tom. I only punish you because I love you. You are a terrible disappointment Tom. Just because you look like your mother doesn’t mean you’ve got to act like her."

"When’s mummy coming home?" Tommy asked without thinking and then flinched at the fury in his daddy’s face.

"She’s NEVER coming back, Tom. She’s dead. Face up to it. You may as well forget her now. Stop sniveling or I’ll give you something to snivel about"

Little Tommy choked back his tears and straightened his shoulders in his best imitation of a ‘proper Paris"

"Good boy" his father said approvingly "Good night, Tom. I love you"

"I love you too" Tommy whispered submissively, and at the tender age of five made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t break for twenty-five years. He would never let anyone love him again.


As soon as Chakotay got home to his quarters he switched on the monitor of his computer and logged into his surveillance program.

Tom had evidently shaken off the sedative; he wasn’t in his bed. In fact the bed had been stripped of all its sheets

Chakotay panned the view around the pilot’s quarters and was relieved to find that Tom was still there after all. He was curled up in a chair in the living room; cuddling a battered ancient teddy bear and staring into space with a completely blank look on his face.

If anything the pilot looked more exhausted than he had at lunchtime.

So much for the Doctor’s sedative, Chakotay thought angrily. Tom had evidently spent the afternoon jerking off. Why the hell else would he have to put his sheets in the refresher at 1800 hours?

Chakotay was beginning to think that Tom was incorrigible after all.


Tom rocked in misery.

His life was falling apart.

His carefully constructed safety net was collapsing around him.

He was alone with the dreams again.

But now they were worse.

For the first time in years, he had actually wet the bed again.