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“It’ll help clear your mind.”

“My mind is perfectly clear.”

“What would you say if I told you that I’m not leaving until you join me.”

“I’d say take a seat. It’ll be a while.”

Exact same words as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. If Chakotay didn’t know any better he would begin wondering if he was in some kind of temporal anomaly. Well, today would be different. It was different already because Kathryn had no clue as to where the heck she was.

Today instead of standing staring out the window, she was at least sitting down . . .staring out the window.

Chakotay decided that today he would show her the distraction that he had been working on. He just hoped that Kathryn would at least wait until the end before meting out a punishment . . .he shuddered involuntarily at the thought. Stop it, he told himself, no distractions.

Standing behind her where she sat in her high-backed chair was perfect. She could not see what he was doing. A steeled himself for the rebuke of his life as he slowly walked around to stand before the lady seated upon her throne, eyes lowered. Melting to a kneel before her in full nadu, his back straight and tall, thighs wide, naked as the day he was born, he dared a peek through his lowered lashes at the look on her face. His face revealed nothing, but hers was a picture.

“My Lady, may this one serve you black wine?” he offered.

“Ex-excuse m-uh-me?” she choked.

Chakotay waited in silence.

Kathryn was utterly speechless, not to mention confused. “Computer, what is black wine?”

The computer bleeped and recited the database entry. “Black wine is a drink of hot coffee of a syrupy consistency served to Free men and women on the planet Counter Urth, in the collection of books recounting the exploits of Tarl Cabot, written by John Norman of 20^th century Earth. Black wine is made from the ground beans of Thentis, much guarded by the inhabitants of the city. It is usually served first slave or second slave . . .

“Computer, halt,” Kathryn ordered. She looked down at Chakotay and sighed heavily. “Well, since you have gone to so much trouble to take your clothes off, I suppose I had better humour you . . .this time and this time only, Commander.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he responded.

“Black wine, first slave . . .whatever that means,” she added under her breath.

“Yes, Mistress,” Chakotay responded. He rose fluidly to his feet and turned towards the door to her bedroom.

Kathryn opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she was going to say never made it, in fact as she watched him approach her bedroom door even the memory of what she had intended to say vanished. What could Chakotay possibly want in her bedroom? On second thought, don’t even go there.

She watched open mouthed as the rippling muscles smooched their way across the carpeted floor, a poetic dance of light across his naked flesh. In awe she watched the breathtaking medley of twisting and lifting as he took each step. A breath shuddered in her throat as she watched, unable to draw her eyes from his body.

Chakotay stretched his right arm out across his body and lifted it up over his head in a wide arc. As he did so the wall vanished to reveal a kitchen of sorts, made of medieval stone work. A large log fire now stood where her bedroom door had been.

“What the hell . . .?”

Now she was officially confused. Exactly when and how did she end up in the holodeck? Never mind she told her self. That can be worked out later. Right now she was too busy watching Chakotay - strike that - a naked Chakotay walking through her quarters.

Chakotay filled the kettle and tipped a measured scoop of a pungent brown powder into the kettle and hung it over the fire.

Hmm, Kathryn thought. I have never seen coffee made this way - add the view - never ever seen coffee made this way. She wiped at something cool that was running down her chin and looked around self consciously. Drool . . .she was drooling.

Opening a cupboard above the counter Chakotay stretched up to lift two small crystal bowls down, which he placed on a silver tray. Then he took down two lidded pots. Kathryn blinked. Where had the tray appeared from? She had not been paying very close attention.

Eyes wide she watched him tip a yellow substance into one bowl, and a white substance into the other bowl. Replacing the pots back into the cupboard her smiled at her over his shoulder, a devastatingly handsome smile that could leave her weak at the knees. She thanked God that she was already sitting down, any god would do, just as long as He or She knew how grateful she was.

Chakotay then crossed to an old-fashioned refrigerator and opened the door. A cold blast of air blew over him, staged she thought, but the effect was not. Chakotay sucked in a breath and gasped loudly, his skin was peppered with goose-bumps. His big strong hands lifted out a large pitcher and carried it to the counter and filled a small jug with cream.

Whoa, back up a bit, Kathryn thought. Where did the cream jug come from? She cursed herself again, she was not paying attention. Eyes widened again and she watched the naked body turn from the counter showing her a full body view of his perfect form. Lean, smooth, taut and bronzed . . .she wiped her chin. Oh-my-gosh, this had better not last for much longer.

Pitcher away she was treated to another full view of him as he returned to the counter. He seemed to gaze over the collected items for a moment and then looked up at the shelf high above his head. He could not reach it, even standing on tiptoes.

Lifting his hip up onto the counter he reached up and grasped the mug from the shelf. He seemed to hover there under her a appraisal, his length balanced along his thigh. Oh boy, did he look good. She wiped her chin, and cursed herself. She aught to stop doing that, or he is going to notice.

Chakotay took a firm hold of the mug and slipped to the floor, the muscles of his body rippling as he landed. She would very soon have her favoured drink, served the best and only way for a Mistress like Kathryn. But the best was yet to come. Taking the mug he ran the rim across the head of his manhood, checking for blemishes.

Whoa! I’m awake! Kathryn sat up in her chair watching the mug work across his most sensitive place. A groan came up from somewhere, and she turned a little to find out where, and instantly realized that it was her. She swallowed, hopping he had not heard her, but doubted she had gotten away with it.

Chakotay wiped a clean dry cloth over the mug, contemplating the loud moan of pleasure that had risen from the armchair. His manhood hardened a little, but he couldn’t be sure if it was the feel of the cold, smooth mug or Kathryn’s moan. Standing the mug on the tray he took a rag to fetch the kettle from over the fire. He poured the dark, thick liquid into the mug and left the kettle to one side.

Then with a smile he lifted the tray to his chest and turned towards her. Walking towards her he noted that her eyes roamed shamelessly over him. She was enjoying this more than she would outwardly let on.

He lowered to his knees before her and lifted the tray, lowering his eyes. “Your black wine, My Lady,” he announced and slid the tray onto the coffee table.

“Thank you, Chakotay. That was . . .” Was what? Sensual, sexy, down right provocative? Oh boy, howdie! But he was not finished yet.

Chakotay spooned tiny heaps of first yellow and then white sugar into the steaming mug, six of yellow and four of white. Then he added the cream. Then he lifted the mug to her, and spoke. “May this drink warm your heart, calm your mind, nourish your body, and bring peace to your soul.”

Kathryn tried to speak, but her voice came out like a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “That was lovely, Chakotay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mistress. Is there anything else that you desire?”

“Umm . . .” No, Kathryn, don’t even think it. Too late The red flush had risen to her cheeks, and her eyes had already developed a mind of their own and wandered to his groin. “I’ll be fine with just the coffee for now.”

For now?? Where the heck had that come from? Kathryn cringed several shades past fire-truck red and sipped the coffee instead.

He was certain he had heard correctly, and judging by the reaction he saw on her face, yes he had heard correctly. And she had even surprised herself. He remained in full nadu a moment longer gazing up at her while she relished the coffee in her hand. “Would you like to return to your real quarters, Kathryn?” he asked softly. “You can take the black wine with you. It’s not replicated.”

Not replicated . . .? Kathryn swallowed. Well, that shattered one allusion she had entertained. That this was either a dream or a holodeck scenario that someone had programmed for her as a diversion. Just to be sure she pinched herself and then pinched Chakotay.

Chakotay flinched and smiled. “Satisfied, My Lady?”

“I - um . . .”

Ok, so she had lost the power of intellectual speech.

“I would like to return to my quarters now. You have given me a wonderful diversion, Commander, I mean, Chakotay.”

“Of course, My Lady.” He rose again and reversed the arc over the door with his arm. The kitchen vanished, and her bedroom door reappeared.

“How did you . . .?”

“Even the first officer has the prerogative to keep some things to himself, Captain.” He grinned that disarming smile again as he reached for his clothes.

Aww, she pouted silently. Did he have to get dressed?

“Be prepared to be interrupted again, Kathryn,” he warned her gently.

Her eyes said, yippee! But her mouth said, “Why?”

“Because,” he smiled knowingly. “Tomorrow, I plan to do the whip dance.”

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