PART 1

"Well, it's about time!"

Malcolm pulled up short as he entered the officers' mess. The dark-haired lieutenant flashed Jonathan Archer a wink and a tired smile before responding to Trip's impatient greeting. "Keep yer shirt on, Commander," he drawled in an exaggeration of Tucker's distinctive accent. "I got here afore the eggs got cold."

The other two men were already seated and the armory officer stooped to kiss each of them before settling into his own chair.

"I hate it when you do that," Trip complained.

"What, run late for breakfast?" Malcolm asked, deliberately misunderstanding his lover's comment.

"You know what I mean," Tucker countered.

"I think it's cute," Jonathan said in an attempt to placate his North American mate.

"Really?" Trip challenged. "Then you should find this downright irresistible." Setting his fork down, the engineer picked up his coffee mug. Holding it so his pinky finger was extended almost straight, Tucker took a dainty sip. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, gents," Tucker mimicked primly. "I was merely running a wee bit tardy to our appointment to break our fast."

Jonathan snickered at the stupefied expression on Malcolm's face. Trip just leaned back in his chair and grinned as he watched the Englishman's reaction.

"You realize," Malcolm said in a deceptively even voice, "that this means war, don't you?"

"Hoo boy! Hit a sore spot, didn't I?" Trip crowed. "Or is it that you can dish it out but can't take it?"

Malcolm slid the fork out from between his lips, audibly scraping its metal tines against his teeth. Smiling slyly at his smug lover, he purred. "Just wait until this evening, Trip. Then we'll see just how much I can dish out."

Jonathan laughed aloud, enjoying the younger men's banter. Malcolm had really blossomed in the weeks since becoming Trip and Archer's lover. The staunch companionship of two supportive lovers had gone a long way to help the younger man gain emotional confidence. The three-sided relationship had been good for Trip too; the engineer had found the perfect foil in Malcolm for his own bubbly enthusiasm. As for Jonathan, he'd gained not one, but two beautiful men to dote on; pure bliss, as far as the captain was concerned.

Luckily, Archer's assessment of the crew's reaction had been right on target…and so had Trip's. Far from undermining his authority, the three-way relationship had been accepted benevolently by their shipmates. There was more than a little awe, not to mention pride, as the Enterprise's crew observed the *very* satisfied expressions that Trip and Malcolm often wore. Jonathan Archer had been a larger than life figure to most of them already anyway and the fact that the man seemingly needed *two* lovers to satisfy him had only added to his building legend.

No matter how their individual schedules diverged, the lovers always arranged to share at least one private meal in the officers' mess. It wasn't easy, given the dedication each man had to his work, but somehow they managed. Trip, in particular, was jealous of their alone time and Malcolm made a mental note to make up for his tardiness later.

"What kept you so long, anyway?" Tucker asked.

"Still cleaning up after the mess those Ferengi made," Malcolm answered, helping himself from the serving platter. "I've got good news, though. That idea you came up with, Trip, to shield the weapons lockers worked. If we're ever boarded again, our weapons caches won't be so easily detected."

Jonathan Archer felt his good mood slip at Reed's offhand remark. Having the bulbous-headed aliens invade his ship had felt like a personal violation. Back on Earth, exploring the universe had seemed a grand and glorious dream. The reality, he'd found, was quite different from those bold visions. It was still grand but a lot dirtier than his naive imaginings had ever pictured.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't stay," Archer said abruptly as he rose from the table. "Good teamwork, guys." Cupping one hand behind the lieutenant's head, he pulled the younger man in for a quick kiss then leaned across the table to do the same with Tucker. "Make sure you get some of that hashbrown casserole, it's delicious." Then, in a swoosh of closing doors, the captain was gone.

"Was it something I said?" Malcolm asked plaintively, staring at the doorway that had swallowed his mate.

Equally thrown by Jonathan's hasty departure but trying to hide his disquiet, Trip shrugged. "I think he's just got a bad case of the firsts."

"'Firsts'? What do you mean by that?" Reed asked, ignoring his breakfast for the moment to focus on the other man.

Tucker gulped, a bit uncomfortable at being the center of that penetrating gaze. "Captain of the first deep space vessel. First human that most alien cultures will interact with. First Starfleet captain to have his ship boarded by petty thieves. You know, the firsts."

Malcolm considered Trip's theory. "But Jonathan has always seemed to relish being a pioneer."

"Most of the time, I think he gets a big kick out of it," Trip shrugged. "But John's human too. He's bound to have doubts once in a while."

"He's the best man for the job," Reed asserted.

His lover sighed. "I know that. You an' everybody else on the ship knows that. Hell, most of the time, *John* knows it too." The engineer groped for words. "It's just, when you're in command, you take it real personal-like when some unfriendly, butt-ugly critters pull a fast one on ya an' take over your ship."

The armory officer idly stirred his eggs as he thought about it. "I suppose you're right," Malcolm eventually admitted. "Jonathan always seems so confident…what can we do to help him?"

"Well, I 'spect John'll find his own equilibrium," Trip assured the other man. "We just have to give him some time." When Malcolm looked decidedly unconvinced, however, Tucker quickly changed his tune. "But maybe we could come up with somethin' to cheer him up."

Reed immediately perked up at the suggestion, but then his shoulders sagged as the lieutenant realized they'd have to come up with an idea. "But how?"

"I dunno," Trip responded, then grinned slyly and slapped the tabletop. "Unless you want to take this baby out for a ride again." The commander waggled his eyebrows at his lover, enjoying watching the blush spread across the younger man's face.

The three lovers' second sexual encounter had taken place in the officers' mess, on the very same table that currently held their breakfast. Not quite as adventurous as his mates, it had taken Malcolm some effort to adjust to his own boldness in participating. Even so, they'd learned not to expect Reed to eat in there when anyone but the three of them was present. Not if they actually meant for the armory officer to eat—instead of blushing, stammering, and refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

"No, once was quite enough," Malcolm muttered. "At least, until I recover from the last time."

Reed was staring at his plate, the tips of his ears red. Tucker chuckled as he watched the younger man shift his seat, Malcolm's body reacting to the erotic memories.

Since he was watching the lieutenant, Trip noticed when his lover became still. "What?" The engineer asked, familiar with the expression currently on Malcolm's face. Reed had an idea.

If anything, Malcolm seemed to become even more uncomfortable. "I'm not sure it would work…or that it would catch Jonathan's fancy…"

"What?" Trip repeated his question. Malcolm had a sneaky mind, probably due to all that tactical training he'd received, and Tucker was eager to see what the armory officer had thought up.

"Well…" The younger man continued to hesitate. "Some people might consider it a wee bit kinky."

"You say that like it's a problem," The commander said when his lover once again stopped short of voicing his idea. "Out with it, man, before I have to hurt you. Whatever you've thought up, it can't be *that* bad."

"That depends," Malcolm qualified, finally lifting his eyes to meet Trip's curious gaze. "On whether or not you *really* disliked parading around the Enterprise in your underwear…"

***

Hours later, an unusually distracted Jonathan Archer stalked the corridors of the Enterprise, headed back to his quarters. The day had not started particularly well and had gone downhill from there. Everywhere he turned, it seemed, the captain was confronted with reminders of his ship's occupation by the Ferengi. His crew was taking it well, especially considering their quarters had been trashed during the greedy aliens' search. Archer himself, it seemed, was having the most difficulty dealing with the trespass.

Jonathan winced as he remembered just how his day had started—by walking out on Trip and Malcolm. It was a rude thing to do, but particularly bad in light of the fact that he'd walked out in reaction to something that *Malcolm* had said. Had it been Trip, the commander would have known enough to give John a few hours to calm down, then would have cornered him privately and figuratively slapped some sense into him. Malcolm, on the other hand, wasn't confident enough to do that yet, although he'd made a lot of progress since entering into the relationship. The only good thing about the whole breakfast mess was that Tucker was there too. No doubt, Trip would put John's reaction into perspective for their lover…

A side door opened and the captain automatically nodded at Dr. Phlox as he passed. To his mild surprise, the Denobulan joined him, falling into step with Archer's long stride.

"Something on your mind, doctor?" Jonathan eventually asked. It wasn't characteristic of the talkative physician to stay silent.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Jonathan."

Archer came to a halt. To the best of his memory, it was the first time that the ship's doctor had called him by his first name and instinctively, Jonathan had a feeling it did not bode well for the conversation that was to come. Phlox didn't notice he'd stopped at first, moving on a few steps before discovering he'd left his companion behind. As the doctor waited, Archer slowly caught up.

"Why do you say that?" The captain finally asked.

Phlox continued to walk as Archer fell into step, seemingly studying the corridor ahead of them. "I couldn't help but notice that you've seemed…preoccupied of late. This business with the Ferengi has left you somewhat more agitated than other encounters." When Jonathan opened his mouth to talk, the doctor waved him down. "Not that I blame you. It's been a couple of days now and my Pyrithian bat still won't eat. But…if I've noticed, then it's fair to say that the crew has observed your unease as well. And the crew need to know that their captain is in top form, John."

The use of his first name and then even a shortened version of that clued Archer in to the deliberate casualness of the conversation. This was an off the record warning, then. From Phlox to Jonathan, not Ship's Physician to Captain. It was a subtly he hadn't thought the alien capable of, but it wasn't the first time that the Denobulan's affable nature had hidden his strength of personality.

In other words, it was a oblique warning that John better get his act together or Phlox would have to make official note of his mental state.

Nodding carefully at the physician, Archer ceded the point. "Yes, I was just thinking that I could use a shift or two off." Grinning ruefully, he made a show of rubbing his shoulder. "I'm not used to hefting all that cargo."

Phlox knew there was nothing wrong with the captain, having examined Archer shortly after the Ferengi were escorted off the ship. He allowed the human his deception, however, and only clapped him on the arm instead of hauling him off to the infirmary. "That should put you to rights. Let those husbands of yours charm you a bit." Considering he had multiple spouses himself, Phlox had easily adapted to the idea of his captain being in a three-way relationship.

Archer let the misused term stand uncorrected. Husbands. He had to admit he kind of liked the sound of that.

Phlox and Archer parted company at the mess hall, the captain heading to his quarters while the doctor went in search of his supper. Despite the physician's warning, however casual, Jonathan's step was lighter. Phlox was right, he decided, it was time to let the nasty business of the Ferengi go and who better to help him move on than Trip and Malcolm?

It was with a lighter frame of mind that Jonathan Archer entered his quarters. Phlox had reminded him that his attitude affected the entire crew's mood, but also had pointed out the perfect adjustment method—his lovers. The captain intended to make full use of the technique too. After, of course, he apologized to his mates for his earlier behavior.

It was a good thing for Archer that he'd made that resolution, because as he entered his quarters, he discovered them completely transformed. Gone were the stark gray walls. Instead, the small cabin was swathed in softly shimmering gold fabric, originating from a point above his bed. His desk chair had been transmuted as well, barely recognizable underneath its cover of jewel-toned scarves. The utilitarian piece of furniture had become downright throne-like underneath its new trappings.

Movement from the corner of the room drew Archer's eyes from the sumptuous additions. Malcolm and Trip approached somewhat hesitantly but it wasn't their apparent shyness that caught Jonathan's attention. The captain opened his mouth to greet his lovers but abruptly shut it when he got a good look at the younger men.

Instead of the usual uniform, Reed and Tucker were dressed in their underwear. The garments weren't the standard Starfleet blue issue, either. The close-fitting briefs and tank top were made out of a body-hugging black material, designed to be worn under covert operations suits. The matte black of the fabric looked sleek and sexy against his mates' skin, although the affect was different for each man. For Malcolm, the ebony color made his pale complexion look almost luminescent in comparison, while for Trip, the sharp contrast only served to emphasize the golden undertones to his skin. How the man could still look sun-kissed after months of being cooped up on a deep space vessel was a mystery to Archer, but somehow Tucker managed it.

"What's all this?" Jonathan asked, his hand gesture encompassing the lavishly decorated room but his eyes stayed riveted on his lovers.

"It's for you," Malcolm said softly.

"Your tail's been kinda draggin' the last coupla days," Trip interjected.

"So I've heard," Jonathan responded dryly, his gaze wandering freely over his mates' scantily clad bodies. "Not that I'm complaining, but what made you think of this?"

Trip and Malcolm exchanged glances, the engineer tilting his head at Reed in silent encouragement to explain.

"Well, John," the younger man explained, "We couldn't help but notice that the only part of the Ferengi situation you were enthusiastic about was describing when Trip was forced to run around the ship in his skivvies. Since you seemed to like that aspect of the incident, we thought it might be beneficial to recreate it, in a controlled environment."

"An environment that *you* control," Trip added, then lowered his voice seductively. "An environment that you *totally* control, if'n you get my drift."

Having played with Trip before, Jonathan immediately recognized the smoldering twinkle in the commander's eye. "Yeah, I think I get your drift." Turning to the dark-haired man, Archer addressed his question to Malcolm. "Do you? I mean, have you played before?"

"A very little bit," Reed answered, his blush coloring him all the way down to his shoulders. "But I'm a quick study."

"Don't let that shy act fool ya," Tucker looked at the youngest man fondly. "This was all his idea."

"Really?" Jonathan said, pleasantly surprised. "Malcolm, I'm proud of you." It hadn't been that long ago that the Englishman had balked at being intimate in the locked officers' mess. That he was willing to engage in sexual play was another indication that Reed was working past his inhibitions.

Thoughtfully, the captain looked around his cabin. Now that he took a closer look, he recognized the decadent items. Oddly enough, it had been T'Pol that had suggested that he not only take back what the Ferengi pirates had liberated from the Enterprise, but also confiscate a bit of the aliens' booty as a punitive measure. To Archer, it had felt like stealing and he'd balked at the notion, but the Vulcan had reasoned that they needed to interact with the Ferengi on their own level in order to make an impression.

Archer couldn't help but wonder what the sub-commander would think of how his lovers had put the appropriated items to use.

"Johnny?" Archer's silence had unnerved his mates and it was Trip who broke him out of his reverie. "What do ya think?"

"I think," Jonathan responded, "that it sounds wonderful and I have two of the most thoughtful lovers in the galaxy taking care of me." The younger men relaxed in relief and Archer gave them a moment before continuing. "I also think we need to lay down some ground rules." "Rules?" Malcolm sounded surprised.

"It's a game and, like any other game, you need to set some boundaries." Jonathan explained. "Right, Trip?"

It was the engineer's turn to blush. "Right."

Malcolm Reed looked from the captain's amused expression to the engineer's look of chagrin. "What? I get the feeling that I'm missing something."

The sigh that came out of Tucker seemed too big to have come from his slender body. "The rules are for my benefit, Malcolm," The engineer reluctantly explained. "You remember when we were comparin' notes and found out we both knew the same waitress, back when we were in the Academy?" When Reed nodded, he continued. "Let's just say they don't only call her Ruby 'cause her hair's auburn." When Malcolm still looked confused, Tucker sighed and clarified. "When she asked me to play, I didn't set any rules up and, when she was done…well, when I tell you that my cheeks were red, I'm not talkin' about my face."

"But…but my encounters with her weren't at all like that," Reed stammered. "She hardly seemed the type…Are you sure you want to go through with this, Trip?"

"Damn straight, I'm sure," Trip asserted. "I'm not about to let one unpleasant game ruin my love of the sport, if you know what I mean."

"The point is," Jonathan interrupted, "is that we set boundaries right from the start. For the benefit of all of us, Trip, not just you."

"I'm sorry if I seemed taken aback. I've just never had something like this so formalized before. Besides," Malcolm said as he turned to the captain. "I trust you, John. You wouldn't ever strike either one of us."

"Not even if you asked me to," Archer assured him, touched at the faith the armory officer had in him. He knew that it didn't come easily to the lieutenant. "But all things considered, it's better to have some rules anyway." When Reed looked worried, Jonathan laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, these are easy. Rule #1 is that we only do what everyone wants to do. Rule #2 is that everything we do feels good. If it doesn't, we stop. That simple."

Malcolm waited a minute, but no more rules were forthcoming. "That's it?"

"Well, sometimes it's a good idea to set up a system for knowing when it's time to stop," Tucker suggested.

"That's a good idea, I'm glad you mentioned it," the captain said. "I like to use names. Nicknames for playing and, if you use someone's real name, it's a sign to stop."

Trip groaned. "I forgot about that. You come up with the worst names, Johnny. Let me make this perfectly clear: I refuse to answer to Stud Puppy again."

"Of course not," Archer reassured the engineer. "That would be repetitive. No fun in that."

The captain started circling his lovers, his appreciative assessment causing Malcolm's blush to deepen. Seeing the reaction, Jonathan chuckled, the sound causing the younger man to shiver in anticipation. "I know what I'll call you," the older man said, coming to stand close behind the Englishman. "That little noise you make, right before you come…it's almost a purr…or a growl. I think I shall call you Pet."

Reed darted a look his lover's way. "I most certainly do *not* purr," he protested. Jonathan didn't bother to refute his claim, simply stepped up behind dark-haired man again and nibbled at a particular spot on Malcolm's neck. The younger man instinctively turned into the caress, a sound escaping from his lips that was half sigh and half moan. In other words, very purr-like.

"I rest my case," Jonathan said. The captain turned when he heard the faint sound of an unsuccessfully stifled snicker. Seeing Trip working hard to wipe a grin off his face, Archer stalked towards his other lover. "Now, what shall I do about you?"

It was Tucker's turn to be the object of Jonathan's appraisal, but unlike Malcolm, the engineer preened under the weighty gaze. Seeing the Southern stretch and almost pose, Archer laughed softly. "I was thinking about Sweet Cheeks, but that would apply to both of you and I wouldn't want anybody to get confused. The more I think about it, though, I think Doll Face is better. Doll for short."

"Doll Face?" Trip repeated, his tone colored by just a hint of outrage.

"Would you rather be Stud Puppy?" Jonathan calmly asked. Tucker just shook his head.

"And what do we call you?" Malcolm asked softly, trying to diffuse the situation. Not that he thought his lovers were truly arguing, not when their eyes were twinkling that merrily, but he was anxious for the evening's more physical activities to get underway.

Archer's gaze swept the room. "Considering how you two set the room up, how about Master? Is that okay?" He looked at Reed in concern, knowing that Tucker would relish that aspect of the game, despite his previous experience with Ruby, but not sure of Malcolm's response.

"Whatever you desire…Master," Reed replied, blushing furiously but managing to keep his head up.

"Good." Archer grinned. This was going to be fun! "What Master desires, at the moment, is to be clean. I trust you have my shower ready." Both heads nodded, the light- and the dark-haired. The captain turned to the fresher, holding out a hand to stop the other two from following. "We'll have time for that later. Right now, I just want to wash the stink of the day off me. When I get out, however, I expect you to have my meal ready." Even in the midst of a game, Jonathan wouldn't have dared sound so imperious, had he not already seen the table full of covered dishes. Confident that his lovers had everything well prepared, he ducked into the fresher.

PART 2

It might well have been the fastest shower in Starfleet history. Jonathan would have sworn that he was out and toweling off by the time the first of the water droplets made their way down to the drain. His robe was ready and waiting for him, the plain tie having been replaced with a colorful scarf. Trip and Malcolm were nothing, it seemed, if not thorough.

Archer had been so quick that his mirror hadn't even had a chance to fog up. Looking at his reflection, the captain easily saw the happy anticipation evident in his expression. "You are one lucky member of the human race," Jonathan said to himself, thinking of the two men waiting in the next room, "And don't you ever forget it."

Firmly tugging on the tie of his robe, Archer resolved that, no matter their intentions, the evening's activities would be every bit as enjoyable for his lovers as they were for him. They might have set it up to be all about him tonight, but this was one "Master" who had his "slaves'" pleasure utmost in his thoughts.

Jonathon Archer, captain of the Enterprise and current master to two of the finest pleasure slaves that Starfleet had to offer, exited the fresher and emerged into the main quarters. The table was still off to the side, with the younger men kneeling to either side of his chair, heads down and eyes on the floor, each holding a laden tray.

The captain swaggered across the room, stroking Trip's blond hair and chucking Malcolm under the chin before draping himself across his newly decorated seat of honor. "Looks delicious," he murmured.

"Chef made it special for you, Master," Malcolm offered, looking up at Jonathan through lowered lashes.

"I wasn't talking about the food, Pet," Archer gently corrected him, laughing as Reed's blush once again painted his skin.

"If it please you, Master," Trip said, offering Jonathan a bite-sized wedge of cheese. The engineer was obviously trying to mimic his companion's diffidence, but managed to sound saucy instead of shy.

"It does please me, Doll," the captain replied, amused to see that all of the food items were of the type that could be eaten without utensils. He watched as Trip brought the morsel close, opening his mouth and letting the commander place it on his tongue. When Tucker withdrew his fingers, however, Jonathan closed his lips gently around the digits as they were pulled out of his mouth, the taste of his lover and the sharp cheese mingling.

"Wonderful," Archer complimented, the manner in which he was looking at Trip leaving no doubt about what he was referring to. Then, turning to Malcolm, he gave his other slave a chance to serve. "What about you, Pet? What do you have for me?"

"Qianus, Master," Reed said, referring to a new fruit that they'd recently trade for. A lot like strawberries, but purple in color and of a more elongated shape, it was a new favorite item among the crew. The younger man carefully dipped the fruit into a bowl of whipped cream and offered it up.

"Sweet," the captain said, after letting Malcolm feed him. Deliberately, Jonathan made a show of licking some stray cream off the side of his mouth as his eyes stayed fixated on the man who'd fed it to him. The way he stared made it clear that he was referring to the server and not the tidbit itself, causing Reed to blush yet again. Archer decided that he liked the look and silently resolved to give the lieutenant plenty of reasons during the evening to have that crimson hue flushing his cheeks.

The sensual meal went on for several minutes, Archer dividing his time between the offerings of his two slaves. Eventually, however, he turned to Trip, only to find that the engineer was holding a glass of what appeared to be wine.

"Is Master thirsty?" Tucker asked. Jonathan wasn't fooled for a minute at the demur way the commander kept his head down.

Deciding to play along, the captain magnanimously gestured at his lover. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. That's very thoughtful of you, Doll Face."

Trip lifted the glass towards Archer, his hand detouring only at the very last second to his own mouth. Trip then took a quick but generous swallow of the golden liquid. Before the older man could protest, however, Tucker had risen from his knees, bracing his hands on Archer's shoulders and bringing their lips together. The captain automatically opened his mouth, allowing the wine to pass from Trip's lips to his own. Archer groaned into the contact, drawing Tucker's tongue to twine with his and deepening the kiss.

When they parted, both men were panting. Jonathan smiled and said, "That was boldly done, Doll. I can see I'm going to have to keep my eye on you."

With a last caress, the captain encouraged Tucker back to his kneeling position. Then, Jonathan turned toward Malcolm. He'd been a bit concerned that the armory officer would feel left out because of Trip's antics, but he shouldn't have worried. Reed's eyes were widely dilated and the Englishman was lightly panting himself, the bulge in his tightly knit briefs a clear indication of just how much he'd enjoyed watching them.

"Don't feel neglected, Pet," Jonathan purred, able to make that statement since it was so obviously false. Picking up a piece of fruit from the tray, he held it up to Reed, silently coaxing him to take a bite. Instead of just placing it in the smaller man's mouth, however, Archer rubbed the plump purple fruit against Malcolm's lips, sliding its moist length back and forth between the lieutenant's lips before finally easing it inside. The whipped cream acted as lubricant for the act, with Archer bending to lap up the extra as it trickled from Reed's mouth.

A strangled moan to the other side let the captain know that his display with Malcolm had been very much appreciated by the engineer. Sitting back in his chair, Archer decided it was time to turn up the heat a bit.

"Is there something you wanted, Master?" Malcolm asked, sensing that the food play was over. "We could give you a massage—there's oil already warmed."

"In a minute, Pet. But first, I want you to tell me what you think of Doll."

Reed glanced at Trip, but the engineer looked every bit as confused as he did. "Master?" The Englishman admitted. "I don't know what you mean."

"What do you think of him?" Archer repeated. "Do you think he's kissable?"

"Yes, Master," Malcolm immediately answered. "Very."

"Doll, what do you think of Pet?" Jonathan asked, clarifying before Tucker even had a chance to open his mouth. "Do you want to touch him?"

"Yes, Master," Trip said, eyes lingering on Reed.

"Then not only am I your Master, but I'm your very *kind* Master." Archer said. "Pet, Doll Face, I want the two of you to kiss."

Reed and Tucker looked at each other and then back at Jonathan.

"Huh?" Trip said eloquently.

"But, Master, this evening is for you," Malcolm protested.

The captain picked up the glass and sprawled back on his chair, the motion causing his robe to part. Jonathan wasn't at all ashamed at the way his burgeoning erection poked out from the fabric's depths, although he ignored it for the moment. Instead, he gestured at his lovers with his glass. "Oh, this is for my benefit, trust me." He took a deliberate sip of wine. "I need a few minutes to let my dinner settle before we go on to more strenuous activities and I want you both to entertain me while I wait." Archer smiled slyly. "I could ask you to dance for me, but I've seen Doll dance before and it's not the most conducive sight for good digestion. Besides, I'd much rather watch the two of you kiss." The captain's eyes got brighter and his hand, as he held the glass, wasn't entirely steady. "Now."

Unlike Malcolm, Trip didn't need to be told twice. Ignoring the teasing about his dancing ability, the engineer grabbed Reed, fastening on to the shorter man's mouth as though it were a lifeline. And, maybe it was. As stimulated as Jonathan by the erotic "finger food" dinner, Tucker was eager for any sort of physical release. Pulling the armory officer close, Trip explored his mouth eagerly, moaning as he felt Reed respond.

Archer watched avidly as his two lovers kissed, wine forgotten at their passionate display. Malcolm let Trip control the kiss at first, but then suddenly surged up to dominate their embrace. Straddling Tucker's thighs, Reed put one hand on either side of the commander's face, holding Trip still as he nibbled on his lips. The Englishman smiled at Tucker's groans before diving in to fully explore the other man's mouth.

The room soon softly reverberated with the moist sound of lips sliding and sucking, accompanied by gasps of pleasure and heavy breathing. The noises of sex were almost spellbinding on Archer, fixating him on the twined couple kneeling in front of him.

"I thought you wanted to touch, Doll?" Archer asked. "Why don't you take off Pet's shirt?"

Trip was happy to obey, nipping at Malcolm's sweat-glistened skin as it was revealed. The dark- haired man gasped as he cradled Tucker's head against his chest, blushing as he felt Jonathan's heavy gaze taking in their every movement.

Archer was aware of the flush spreading across Reed's newly exposed skin and decided to see just how long he could prolong it.

"You've done a fine job of kissing him, Pet, but I think it's time to take a little deeper taste." Archer looked down at the forgotten food trays at his feet and nudged the whipped cream bowl towards his mates. "Look, you've still got some sweet left but you'll have to find something else to put it on—the fruit's all gone."

Malcolm felt his groin twitch at the suggestion and greedily reached for the bowl. Smiling at the commander from ear to ear, he slid one hand under Trip's shirt, Tucker helping him as he tugged it towards the taller man's head. Then, as Trip was struggling to finish removing the confining garment, Reed scooped some of the cream from the bowl. Working deftly, the tactical officer used the fluffy, white substance to paint his lover's nipples, ignoring Tucker's gasp as the cold cream touched his skin. Before the engineer could voice a protest, though, Malcolm was already busy removing the concoction, making sure the tight little buds underneath the cream got as much attention as the rest of Trip's chest.

The captain remained transfixed by the sight. That is, until Tucker's hand strayed to cup Reed's ass.

"No, Doll," Jonathan called out. "Hands above the waist."

"But you said…" Trip protested, closing his eyes as Malcolm started nipping at his jaw.

"I said for you to kiss," Archer corrected him, "That's all."

"Oh, cap'n—I mean, Master," Tucker whined.

"No," Jonathan insisted. "I was told that you two were mine for the night and that means you do as I say. I decide who you touch and when." Malcolm stopped kissing Trip and breathlessly laid his forehead against the engineer's; both slaves were breathing hard. "I can see I'm going to have to give you another task. I wouldn't want to have to punish you tonight, Doll. Come here. Pet, you too."

Since they were already on their knees, the two men simply crawled over to Archer, stopping just short of where he sat enthroned. The captain's legs were parted, proudly revealing his engorged penis.

"I think you know what to do," Archer said, putting one hand on each of their heads and drawing them close.

Trip and Malcolm weren't Starfleet's finest for nothing and they didn't need additional direction. The two men reverently drew Jonathan's robe aside and began laving at their lover's cock. Jonathan closed his eyes in pleasure. The captain took one last gulp from his wine glass and hastily set it down, neither noticing nor caring as it tipped over and spilled onto the floor. Head thrown back, Archer finally gave in to the pleasure his mates had prepared for him.

As dissimilar in this most intimate activity as they were in virtually everything else, Tucker and Reed made love to the third man's sex, dark and light heads bobbing as they busied themselves making Archer feel good. Ever the perfectionist, Malcolm stroked the underside of Jonathan's penis in short, almost delicate strokes, building in both firmness and length as he approached the engorged head. In contrast, Trip dove in enthusiastically, running his lips energetically up and down the older man's shaft a couple of times before working back to nuzzle at Archer's balls.

Hands gripping the arms of his chair, holding on to every scrap of willpower that had helped him successfully reach his rank, Jonathan rode out wave after wave of pleasure. Survival training or not, however, he nearly lost it when Malcolm began to gently scrape at his penis with his teeth, causing the older man to bite his lip in an effort to keep from coming.

It was almost a relief to open his eyes and realize that Trip, as well as pleasuring Jonathan with his mouth, was busy fingering his own cock through the knit of his briefs.

"Doll, what did I tell you?" Archer gasped. "Hands *above* the waist."

"I didn' mean to," Tucker tried to explain. "I think my hand jus' went down there of its own accord."

"Really?" One of Jonathan's eyebrows arched in disbelief as he quickly regained control of his body in order to deal with his wayward slave. "Your *hand* disobeyed me?"

"Uh, yeah, you could say that," Tucker looked greedily at cock he'd just been worshiping with his mouth, so eager to finish the conversation and get back to business that he didn't realize how inadequate his excuse sounded.

Gently disengaging Reed, who, with the focus he brought to most tasks, hadn't stopped his oral ministrations on Archer, the captain unsteadily rose to his feet. Grabbing Trip's elbow, he guided the engineer over to the side of the room. "I didn't want to punish you, Doll, but I have no choice." Placing Tucker firmly in the corner, Jonathan firmly positioned both of the younger man's hands on a wall, facing the chair where Malcolm was still waiting. "Now, you keep your hands there, where I can see them."

"But Master…"

Archer growled and grabbed his lover's genitals, being careful to not to hurt the other man. "You're my slave tonight, which mean's you're mine, right?"

Trip gulped but nodded.

"Okay, that means that *this*," Jonathan squeezed the stiff organ in his hand and Tucker moaned, "Belongs to me too. I've got plans for this cock tonight and they don't involve it coming in your hand. Until you get that clear in your head, you stand here." When Trip opened his mouth as if to protest, Archer made a threat. "If there's a problem, I can always have you face the wall, then you can't even watch."

"No, Master," the commander admitted defeat. "I'll be good; promise."

"See that you are," the captain replied, kissing Tucker almost harshly before going back to his other lover.

Reed remained kneeling on the floor and, as Jonathan sat, he pulled the armory officer up and into his lap. "Don't worry, Malcolm," Archer whispered in the Englishman's ear as he made a show of settling him. "You know what a voyeur Trip is; he'll get a kick out of watching."

"I know," Reed reassured him, then gasped as Jonathan picked up the forgotten wine bottle and poured some of the pale amber-colored liquid down his chest.

"Is that cold, Pet?" Archer asked his dark-haired slave. "Sorry about that, but we seem to be out of glasses." Jonathan bent his head to suckle the beverage from his mate's skin.

Malcolm soon found that sitting on Archer's lap was *not* a passive experience. The bigger man's hands were all over him, making subtle changes in Malcolm's position, supposedly in order to have better access to his wine-soaked skin. In reality, however, Jonathan was using the action to explore the smaller man's body, all while shifting his leg and making the armory officer ride his thigh.

By the time Jonathan poured the remnant of the wine bottle over Reed's crotch, Reed's erection had managed to tent even the tightly knit fabric of his briefs.

"Hmmm, that looks uncomfortable, Pet," Jonathan murmured. The captain looked briefly up at Trip, making sure that the engineer was still obediently in place. Seeing that he was, Archer encouraged Malcolm to his feet, slowly peeling the soaked black fabric away from Reed's ass as the tactical officer rose. He lapped at Malcolm's skin as it was exposed, making its way to the crack and the delicate opening that was hidden there.

"Jonathan!" Malcolm exclaimed in surprise, all but leaping out of Archer's arms as he felt the older man's tongue at his entrance. "What are you doing?"

"I think it's called rimming, babe," Trip called. "Don't it feel good?" The commander looked a bit concerned at his younger lover's reaction, but stayed in his assigned position.

"Malcolm?" Archer asked the rest of his question with his expression, eyebrows lifted and forehead wrinkled in mild worry.

"You just…startled…me. We've never talked about that before." Reed hesitated. Actually, Malcolm liked it very much but didn't want to let the fact be known to his mates. As much as he enjoyed being on the receiving end, he didn't particularly like giving this particular pleasure and refused to indulge if he wasn't willing to reciprocate.

"All right,"Jonathan reassured him. He sensed there was more going on with the tactical officer than simple surprise but was too involved in the moment to contemplate stopping and figuring it out. "We'll just not try that again until we can discuss it." Archer held out a hand to coax the other man back into his lap and was relieved that Reed took it so readily.

Once Malcolm was settled with his back against Archer's chest, the captain kissed the smaller man's shoulder and began stroking down his arms. "How about this?" He asked his mate, reaching around Reed to tweak his nipples. "I know you like that."

Reed moaned and arched against his lover, head thrown back against Jonathan's shoulder. The captain laughed at his reaction, glancing at Trip and grinning fiercely at the way the engineer was biting his lip.

"How about this?" Jonathan asked, fingers leaving Malcolm's chest and dipping to firmly grasp the other man's erection.

"Master!" Reed exclaimed, his hands covering Archer's as they gripped his length, trying to get the other man to stroke him. Jonathan was happy to comply, mouth sucking his mark onto the armory officer's shoulder as he pumped Malcolm's cock.

"That's right, Master," Trip called from the sidelines. "Make him beg!"

When Reed's moans became continuous and his toes began to curl, Archer decided it was time for the next step. Luckily, his two slaves had some massage oil warming on a chafing dish within reach and it was easy enough to give his fingers a slick coating. Shifting his lover in his lap, Archer began to prepare the other man. Reed's moans rose in pitch and it was necessary again for Jonathan to call on his strength of will—having a squirming tactical officer on his lap was almost more than even his self control could take. Eventually, Archer deemed that Malcolm was stretched enough. "Time to see how well *you* dance, Pet," he growled, hands grasping Reed's hips as he lifted the Englishman up off his lap and onto his cock. Malcolm's moans abruptly stopped as the large head of his lover's penis breached his opening, the younger man stilling as being filled by his mate soothed the urgent need within him.

Jonathan slowly thrust upward until his was fully sheathed his lover. Then he pressed his forehead against Malcolm's sweaty back before his hands began helping the lieutenant raise and lower himself on the cock that was impaling him. A couple of deep, slow thrusts and it was Jonathan's turn to moan.

"Master, please," came Trip's strained voice.

Archer looked past Reed and saw that the engineer still had his hands on the wall, but the rest of Tucker's body was leaning forward. Even halfway across the room, Jonathan could see the need in his lover's eyes and he gave in. "Come join us, Doll," he panted out.

Jonathan had expected the commander to go to Malcolm, but instead, Tucker circled behind him. Fingers that were so skillful in working with the Enterprise's engines were equally adept at playing with Archer's nipples. The tongue that got Trip into as much trouble as it managed to talk him out of licked at Archer's ear, thrusting inside in the same rhythm that the captain had established with Malcolm. The captain shivered as he realized that Tucker had made use of the whipped cream, the combination of the coolness of the sweet concoction and the warmth of Trip's tongue made him shiver.

"Let go, Master, that's what we're here for," Trip whispered to Jonathan.

Archer turned his head and kissed Tucker deeply, nipping at the engineer's lips before letting him go. With Trip continuing to caress him from behind, Jonathan sped up his pace with Reed, aiding the lieutenant in making faster and deeper thrusts.

Sensing that the dark-haired man was on the edge, Jonathan growled encouragement. "Come on, Pet, let me hear you purr." Then, as his hands wrapped around the armory officer's weeping penis and stroked demandingly, Archer stretched up to suck on the sweet spot on Malcolm's neck.

It was too much for the younger man. With a noise that was part gasp and part moan, Malcolm came, ramming himself down on the cock inside him and grabbing on to Archer's thighs in support as his body spasmed. Trip wrapped his arms around both of his lovers, helping to steady Reed's weight as the Englishman went limp against Jonathan, totally drained by their coupling.

Archer's body throbbed as he felt Reed tighten around him, but the captain had kept in mind that he still had another lover to satisfy and so didn't join the younger man in coming. Trip might like to watch, as Jonathan well knew, but he wasn't about to let that be the commander's only release for the night.

Gently petting Malcolm's stomach, now anointed with the sticky result of the lieutenant's orgasm, Jonathan quieted his spent partner. "You okay, Malcolm?"

"Oh, yes," Reed responded dreamily, his eyes widening as he shifted in Archer's lap and realized that the other man was still diamond hard. "Jonathan, you didn't…?" Swiveling in his lover's arms, he saw Tucker standing behind them and then Archer's condition made sense. "Ah, I see." Kissing the captain on the chin, Reed gingerly started disentangling their bodies. "Doll, Master still requires some…service…I hope you're up to the task."

The armory officer bent to whisper in Jonathan's ear. "Go on, you've made him wait long enough."

Archer smiled, hand wrapping around the back of Malcolm's neck and pulling him in for a more thorough kiss before letting him go. "I am one damn lucky member of the human race," he said, grinning from ear to ear. Reed gave him an answering smile before taking his hands and pulling the captain from his chair.

Jonathan turned and pinned his gaze on Trip, erect and glistening penis jutting proudly from his body as he stalked the engineer. Tucker swallowed at the feral look in his lover's eyes, but in anticipation, not nervousness. Absently, the captain dipped his fingers in the bowl of oil as he passed, silently herding Trip towards the bed. The Southerner shed his briefs as he moved, sighing with relief as his imprisoned penis was freed. When the commander felt the soft coverings against the back of his legs, he stopped and turned. Bracing his arms against the bed, he spread his legs invitingly and offered himself to the older man.

Both men were at their limit, Trip from all the watching without touching and Jonathan from having held back with Malcolm. There would be no petting and slow build up to this coupling; hard and fast was what was needed this time.

Seeing Trip's upturned ass, Archer rumbled deep in his chest and pounced. Covering the engineer's body with his own, his fingers made quick work of preparing the other man and it was only moments before his cock was sheathed again. The tightness and heat were different than the lover he'd just been with, but beloved just the same. The captain established a fast rhythm, pounding almost brutally into the willing body beneath him. Trip accepted each jolt with pleasure, craving a hard fuck after an evening of teasing.

Shamelessly, the engineer reached for his neglected cock, only to find his hand slapped away before he could touch it.

"What did I tell you, Doll?" Archer panted out. "Hands above the waist!" Before Trip could whimper, one of Jonathan's hands wrapped around his penis, finally giving Tucker the sensation he'd been craving.

"Gotta come, John," he said desperately. "Can't wait no more."

Archer was in tormented ecstacy. He'd prolonged his orgasm for so long, now that the time had arrived, his body was beyond release. He could feel Trip pulsating beneath him, hanging on so they could reach the pinnacle together, but Archer's body was no longer cooperating.

Jonathan's labored breaths had almost become sobs of frustration when he felt a warmth move behind him. A slick finger entered Archer's rectum and, despite nearly being dislodged by the captain's frantic thrusts into Trip, Malcolm managed to massage his prostate, providing the straining man the added stimulation he needed to finally climax.

With a throaty cry, Archer let go of Trip's cock so he could grab onto both of the commander's hips, pressing his lover's body close as his orgasm ripped through him. Hearing Jonathan give voice to his release sent Trip over the edge, the engineer's hands clutching the covers as his ass humped the penis spurting inside of him.

In the midst of his lover's strangled moan and the heavy musk of sex, a thoroughly satisfied Jonathan Archer blacked out. When he came to, it was to find himself stretched out on the bed, warmth pressing up to either side. Smiling, he kissed each of his lovers in turn, wondering if the grin from the night's activities would ever fade and, if not, how he would ever explain it to T'Pol.

"You all right?" He asked Trip, faintly worried as he remembered how hard he'd ridden the other man.

A grin, even wider than his own, was his answer. "Hell, yes. Not often I can convince you to let go like that." Tucker yawned and snuggled closer under Jonathan's arm. "If it's being Master that brings it out in ya, sign me up for permanent slave duty."

Archer tenderly kissed the younger man's closed eyes. Trip wasn't exactly "minion of the month" material, but what he lacked in subservience, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Then Jonathan turned to Malcolm. "What about you?"

Reed's smile was more contemplative than Tucker's but equally satisfied. "I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience."

The captain detected the slightest hint of hesitation in the younger man's voice. "But…"

Malcolm sighed and shrugged. "Well, you might find this odd considering that the whole evening was essentially my idea…but, all the other times I've been involved with role playing, it was just casual encounters. What I've found with you and Trip is much different than any relationship I've had before." The armory officer idly traced a random pattern on Archer's stomach, refusing to look the older man in the eye. "I guess what I mean is that, as much as I liked having sex with Master and Doll," the armory engineer smiled at the nicknames, then his expression softened as he voiced the rest of his explanation. "I find I prefer making love to Jonathan and Trip."

"Nothing wrong with that," Archer assured him. "Games like this one are for special occasions, I think it's safe to say they're the exception rather than the rule."

"Good," Reed said around a yawn, "Because I rather fancy our standard operating procedure."

Jonathan encouraged the Englishman to pillow his head on Archer's shoulder, just as Trip was doing on the other side. As he joined the younger men in a post-coital nap, the captain couldn't help but thinking that the trio had their roles reversed for this particular game. When it came to love, Malcolm and Trip were the masters and Jonathan their slave…and he wouldn't have it any other way.