No, in retrospect, she'd had no idea.

 

It had been when they were marooned on New Earth that he had pinned her to one of the storage crates and raped her.

Chakotay had left her bruised, bleeding, battered and extremely unsatisfied.

So she'd pushed him to the ground and raped him.

As punishment, though, she had only rode him long enough to get herself off, before she'd thanked him sweetly and taken their only mode of transport - and that pissy little shuttle had nothing fun for her to play with in terms of weapons - and gone for a little joy ride for a few hours.

When she'd been sure that his balls would be well and truly blue, an appropriate shade for treating her like a lower deck whore, she had returned to find that he hadn't unpacked a thing.

Night had been falling and they'd had no shelter.

"Are you a completely devoid of brain cells?" She'd fumed, looking through her small bag of personal belongings, searching for a whip that would express her displeasure better than her words ever could.

As her hand has closed around the leather handle of her favorite whip, his hands had closed around her neck.

"Apparently not." He'd hissed, pressing a hypospray to her skin.

Kathryn had woken several hours later, groggy, in their completed shelter, the recipient of what he had called 'gifts.'

As consciousness had invaded her senses, she had found herself tied to a bed, metal bonds chaffing her pale skin as she had pulled and struggled against them.

"Seems you're a natural redhead underneath all that bitchy-ness." He'd told her, nodding to her exposed groin as she lay bound with her legs spread. "It suits you. That short, black hair would have me believe that I'm fucking one of your young Ensigns. No thanks."

"Sure that wouldn't float your boat?" She'd snapped back, and felt the sting of her own whip across her belly in reply.

"I've stimulated the hair follicles. Down to your breasts works, I think," He'd run the handle of the whip over a nipple. "And, of course, I've enhanced the colour. If you cut it off, I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

He had pressed the whip's handle to her opening, teasing the spongy tissue.

"I'd like to see you try." She'd hissed.

Whatever she said was neither here nor there, she'd thought, since she had tried to impale herself to the whip, while he danced it away from her opening and pressed it to her clit.

"I've already had you, Kathryn, twice.” He’d raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I wont do it again?"

While, if anyone else had done that to her - or even threatened to do it - she would have broken free and cut their dick off, Chakotay had intrigued her.

He could play the dangerous game that they lived; he could manipulate people into bending to his will. Though he preached peace, she had seen the veins of anger that ran through him, pulsing, trying to escape. Kathryn had wanted those veins unleashed on her.

And he wasn't hard on the eyes, either.

Regardless, propriety had dictated that she snort defiantly. "I think you'll find that I had you the second time."

"I wasn't talking about then." He'd held the end of the whip up for her gaze and Kathryn had been able to see the wetness that had come from her flesh - a thick, gooey mess that suggested that it wasn't solely her fluids clinging stubbornly to the leather.

It was one thing to hold her down and rape her in the name of foreplay; it was a completely different thing to do it while she was out cold. "You son of a bitch!"

"I've also given you a tattoo," He'd continued evenly, ignoring her outburst. "But I'll leave it up to you to find where and what it is.

She hadn't found the tattoo for several weeks - he hadn't given her any time to - and when she'd seen a small section of his tribal markings on the back of her neck, a flood of desire had washed over her and she'd gone to him willingly.

Though, really, calling her participation in their first few weeks together 'forced' was a bit of a stretch.

"Honey, you're not concentrating." His cock was pulled from her mouth and his hand came down across her cheek.

Kathryn looked up at her First Officer and her eyes narrowed, annoyed - and maybe a little aroused, too. "Maybe if you had something substantial for me to suck, I wouldn't get distracted."

He snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Not the tune that you were singing when I was fucking your ass last night."

She couldn't argue the point; he was the biggest man that she'd ever been with, she just wished he didn't know it. "Didn't I once tell you that fucking one of the young ensigns would float your boat?"

"Don't push me, sweetheart."

"Or you'll... what? Have some of your expendable crew mutiny again?" Kathryn rolled her eyes. She loved it when he sparred with her - verbally or physically. "Tell them to at least do it right. It's just no fun when they're not trying."

"How about I tell them to fuck you one after the other? Hmm? You'd hate that, wouldn't you, being used for the pleasure of thirty or more hungry men and women."

"Go on." She shivered delightfully at the thought. "You are the one that would hate it. You know you don't like to share me."

"No," He agreed, gripping his cock in his hand. "I don't."

And he thrust himself back down her throat, grabbing a fistful of her hair again to use as leverage.

Kathryn sucked him noisily, her tongue running over the hard flesh in her mouth as his taste and scent invaded her senses as forcefully as the man had invaded her life. Her own saliva, mixed with pre-come, leaked down on to her chin, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

She moaned in pleasure when he moved his hips to meet her mouth, blocking her airway before he pulled back and thrust again. She gripped his ass, holding her to him as her body automatically went into fight or flight mode against the lack of oxygen.

It was only when she could feel the edges of consciousness slipping from her grasp that she pulled back enough to breathe.

Their words had aroused him as much as the actual movements of her mouth and Kathryn could feel the slight swell of his flesh as he moaned above her.

When he came, he used the firm grip he had on her hair to pull it upwards - and almost pull her off the floor - as he shot his semen down her throat.

While she continued to hold his hips to her, milking him for everything that he had to give, she used one hand to work frantically at her clit, pushing herself over the edge in just a few strokes as she moaned around the softening flesh in her mouth.

Chakotay sunk to the floor and pulled her to him, running a hand through her hair. “Want me to cut it off now?”

“You can leave it for a while, if you want.” She replied with a slight shrug.

As long as the crew didn’t see it, Kathryn didn’t particularly care, but she knew that he liked it.

Sighing, she ran a finger tip over the head of his flaccid cock.

“No.” He batted her hand away, too sensitive for her touch just yet.

“Go on,” She taunted, gripping the base in her small hand and squeezing. “Stop me.”

***

End

 

Inspired by this wonderfully done picture.