"Jack" Series, Part 3: Jack Accepts

11. Service

It happened one day at lunch, at Tiran’s place. Rocky had gone back to Celeste and the kids for a few days, and Dusty was in town, but Gabe and Pat and a couple of others were around.

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation turned around to sex, but it did, and in retrospect, the surprising thing was that it hadn’t come up before in the now approaching two years that I’d been living there.

I think Tiran was describing some act he’d seen at a club the night before, and it did sound hot. "Now you’ve got me all wound up," I told him, half annoyed, pulling out my phone. "I’m going to have to get one of my regulars over to take care of it."

Tiran laughed, and gestured vaguely at Blackie. "Why don’t you have one of my boys look after you," he said hospitably.

I glanced at Blackie, who looked a little nervous. It was tempting. "Nice of you to offer," I told Tiran, considering.

Tiran shrugged. "It’s not like you need to wait."

I paused, still holding the phone in my hand. "I don’t?" I asked Tiran pointedly.

Tiran was just getting up from the table, but he paused and glanced back at me, frowning a little. "Of course not," he said. "When have you ever waited for me before?"

I met his gaze, and around me I felt the boys stiffen warily. "I don’t use your things without permission," I told Tiran.

"No, but – " Tiran began, and then stopped again. He sat back down at the table and looked at me. "You haven’t been waiting for my permission all this time, have you?"

"No," I said truthfully. "I would have asked if I really wanted them."

Tiran started to look relieved, then paused, frowning again. "Wait – what?" he said, puzzled. "You’ve never used them? None?"

"I’ve used Gabe," I said, still watching Tiran.

Tiran raised an eyebrow. "What, the rest don’t meet your standards, Jackie?" He sounded a little offended.

"No," I laughed. "I might have, if -- you know, if they were handy at the right time."

"Oh." Tiran stood up again, seeming satisfied. "Well, as long as you knew you had the option."

I nodded. "I do now," I agreed neutrally.

Tiran shook his head a little, glancing back. "But you just said you weren’t waiting for me. Did you not believe them when they offered?"

I gave him a long look, not answering for a minute. Then I tilted my head and looked around the room. Blackie and Pat had dropped their eyes now; Rusty glanced away nervously, and Gabe looked worried. "When who offered?" I asked. I nodded at Gabe. "He did, and I believed him."

For a moment Tiran stood very still, not speaking, staring at me almost blankly. His expression changed gradually from uncomprehending to disbelieving. "Wait one minute, Jack," he said, very carefully. For the first time, he looked around the room at his subs. Only Gabe met his eyes. Tiran turned back to me. "Are you saying," he began, and his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "Are you telling me that – aside from Gabe – none of the others have ever offered to serve you physically? In all the time you’ve been here?"

I shrugged a little. "It’s no big deal, Marx. Like I said, if I really wanted them, I would have asked."

Tiran shook his head slowly. "That’s not the point," he said, as though I were trying to distract him. "Richards," he said sharply.

Blackie looked up, and I saw fear in his eyes. "Sir – " he began anxiously.

"Have you ever told Jack you were available to service him if he wanted you?" Tiran asked clearly, watching him with narrowed, still faintly incredulous, eyes.

Blackie shook his head rapidly. "No, master – but of course I am – I would – if he wanted me – "

I almost didn’t see the quick move Tiran made, but in an instant Blackie was on the floor, scrambling to his knees, his eyes wide and round. I think he started to say something, but seeing that Tiran had lost interest in him, he wisely kept quiet.

Rusty was already speaking, probably trying to confess before being asked, though it was obviously too late to save himself that way. "Tiran – I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was – " He saw Tiran moving towards him and dropped to his knees pre-emptively, ducking his head. "I’m sorry," he repeated quickly, blanching.

Tiran shook his head slightly and turned to Pat, who had fallen to the floor at the same time as Rusty. Pat, of course, couldn’t speak until Tiran spoke to him, and he waited miserably, his eyes on the floor, as Tiran stood over him silently for a long moment. Finally, in a voice that was low and suppressed, Tiran said, "Pat?"

Pat shook his head. His answer was so faint I almost couldn’t hear it. "No, master."

For a moment everything was still, the calm before the coming storm. I could feel fear seeping from the three frozen figures on the ground. Tiran’s quiet fury was unlike anything I’d seen from him before – usually his anger was explosive, fast and quickly over, but this time it seemed to be growing, building slowly, not yet at its peak.

I sat at the table, watching thoughtfully. I hadn’t gone out of my way to create this scene, but I deliberately hadn’t avoided it either. My job was not to protect the boys. And I can’t deny I took some small satisfaction from Tiran’s reaction at the time.

Tiran was looking at Gabe now. "Solomon. You offered?"

Gabe answered quietly. He obviously took no pleasure in this. "Yes, master."

"So," Tiran said, almost to himself. "He did." He swung his glance back to me again. "The others. Dusty ... Tom, Dell. Rocky," he added suddenly. "Did they ... ?"

I shook my head slightly. "No. Only Gabe."

Tiran nodded slowly, and I could see the effort he used to contain himself. "All right." He took a breath, and began giving orders, carefully, as though trying to get through the list before losing control. "Solomon. Call the others, all of them. Get your father back here, now. Dusty too, I don’t care what he’s doing. Dell and Tom, tell Paul it’s an order."

"Yes, master," Gabe said, and he was gone.

"Jack," Tiran continued. "Are you working today?"

I gave Tiran an ironic look. "I can be," I told him.

He nodded, hardly noticing. "Can I send them to your dungeon in a few minutes? I’ll give you instructions then. Do you want to go ahead and get ready?"

I understood. "Sure." I got up to leave, giving the boys a last glance as I went. If possible, I think they were even more afraid now. It was the last time I saw them in any kind of social capacity for several weeks.


**********


I didn’t really understand, at first, how angry Tiran was – or why. But his orders to me were clear: he wanted the boys hurt – hard, and over a sustained period. I followed his instructions methodically, and for the next couple of weeks the boys – minus Gabe – were in my care.

To my surprise, Tiran showed up at the dungeon on the second day. He told me he wanted to administer some of the day’s punishment himself. I was a little taken aback – he’d never shown any interest in that before – but he seemed calm and controlled at first, so I agreed.

Tiran wouldn’t even look at the boys by this time; all his comments were addressed to me. He told me he wanted to start with Rocky, so I got everything set up, Rocky positioned over the bench, and a small quirt for Tiran to use. I didn’t know how much experience Tiran had or how much restraint he would use, and I figured the quirt had limited capacity for misuse.

Even so, I had to stop Tiran before he was finished. He had clearly been holding himself in check while he was talking to me; once he started on Rocky, he was out of control. He also obviously had no real experience with tools, and in the wrong hands even a quirt can be a dangerous weapon. He wasn’t happy to be stopped, but I invited him to watch the rest of the day’s session and he did stay for a while, brooding in the back while I put the boys through their paces.

The next day Tiran asked me to meet him at the house after work in the evening. When I showed up, he began offering hesitant, awkward apologies and I gradually came to understand the intensity of his reaction.

His pride was wounded; he’d lost face in front of another dom. That his slaves had failed to show such basic courtesy mortified him, even if it was no particular surprise to me – I knew the boys were untrained; that’s why I was there. But Tiran also believed he’d given the boys a direct order that day on the beach – it had never occurred to him they might not have obeyed it implicitly. To him, that was an act of outright rebellion, as if the boys had been openly flaunting their disobedience for months in front of me, the one person he’d wanted to impress.

It was odd for me to think of Tiran caring what I thought of his authority – his dominance seemed to come so naturally to him, like something he was barely aware of. He never seemed to worry about appearances.

But looking back now, I saw flashes of something else – a need to prove something to me. Remembering the small, self-satisfied look he’d given me at the end of his tirade that day on the beach, I wondered if the whole scene had been for my benefit. I thought of his refusal to intervene when I disciplined the boys in front of him; his insistence that he wasn’t the pushover I thought he was with Rocky, the first time I tried to leave; his pointed lack of concern about the possibility of the boys rebelling against me. He’d wanted me to see the authority he wielded, even if he was cavalier about it most of the time. Now, that demonstration had been undermined and debased, and he was like an angry, wounded animal.

On top of that, I could clearly see how hurt he was, on a purely personal level. Tiran was a generous master in most ways, not asking much of his subs on a daily basis. He had hired me at their explicit request and left all the details to them, trusting that their treatment of me would reflect well on him. The boys’ failure didn’t just shame Tiran; it betrayed his faith in them.

When Tiran spoke to me that evening, I saw how he writhed -- humiliated, hurt, betrayed – and I felt his pain. I was used to thinking of him as invincible, unassailable; his hedonism and money forming a fortress against disappointment or displeasure. Strange to see he could still be so devastated.

I tried to reassure him – the boys’ mistake was no big deal; it was my own fault for not raising it earlier; I hadn’t lacked for attention anyway – but it was hard to for both of us to get past the discomfort of his distress.

The boys, meanwhile, were troopers, which no longer surprised me. They were all stoics this time, not just Rocky. Not only did they accept the physical punishment without complaint, but none of them tried to approach me – or Tiran, as far as I could tell – until the worst of the punishment was over. I knew their instincts, and I was impressed that they didn’t try to throw themselves at Tiran’s feet.

It was almost two weeks before Tiran agreed to cut back on the regular corporal punishment. Of course I had paced it, switching the boys to an every second day schedule and using other penalties on alternate days; but even so, it had been a gruelling fortnight. For me as well as them.

After those two weeks, the boys began living almost normal lives again – still serving various punishments, but on a limited basis, so they were able to spend time with their families and at their homes again. There wasn’t much joy on the estate at that time – Tiran still didn’t seem to be speaking to anyone and he spent a lot of time away from home; everyone had the same worn-down air; the whole environment was pretty grim. But I figured we were through the worst of it, and time would take care of the rest.

Rocky came to see me the first day he was free. He, like the others, needed time to heal, so I had banned all cleaning and chores at my place along with other physical exertion. But Rocky wanted to apologize and make peace with me, which I understood.

As far as I was concerned, the boys had all served more than enough punishment for their – relatively – small sin. I let Rocky in and allowed him to spend time at my feet that night. He made his apologies for not having offered himself to me, and I forgave him at once.

"You know," he said in a low voice, as soon as he was forgiven, "I mean – I hope you know ... that ... " He didn’t quite know how to say it, and stopped for a moment, biting his lower lip. "I was always willing ... more than willing. I would have been honoured ... "

I almost felt sorry for him. "It’s okay, Van. I get it."

He shook his head a little. "No, let me say it, please, sir. I was wrong not to be explicit before." He took a breath. "I would be honoured to serve you in any way it pleased you."

I smiled. "Pretty words."

He flushed. "You know I’d love to service you, sir," he said in a throaty voice that made my heart pound a little. "It sounds – I’m afraid it sounds presumptuous," he added. "That’s the only reason I never told you before. I – I hope you believe me. I don’t want to make excuses. I deserved everything Tiran ordered."

That was a quite a statement, considering he still, literally, could not bend and could barely walk. He was kneeling but with a straight back, and he’d already apologized for not being able to put his forehead to the floor.

I nodded. "I know you’re not making excuses. How are things with Tiran?"

He shook his head, and his eyes grew dark and bottomless. "He won’t speak to me, sir. At all."

For a moment we were silent. I wished more than ever I had kept quiet that day at Tiran’s – or better yet, had forced the issue directly with the boys so Tiran didn’t even need to know about it. Wasn’t I supposed to provide the training? I knew the boys weren’t familiar with proper sub behaviour; it was my job to teach them. What had I been afraid of – Tiran not backing me up?

"I should have stepped in," I said honestly. "Before it got to this point. You guys didn’t know ... "

Rocky looked surprised, but he broke in quietly. "We did, sir. I did."

"How could you ... "

"I knew. I was just afraid to do the right thing."

I wasn’t going to keep arguing with him. "What will you do now?" I asked.

Rocky shot me a quick glance. "Keep trying," he said, as though that were the only possible answer. "In fact, I have to go back soon. I’ve been in this situation before ... the only thing I can do is make myself available."

I nodded again. "It’s just time," I said.

He looked away for a moment, then back at me. "I should go, sir. I’m so glad you aren’t angry. I wish – I wish I’d done the right thing. I wanted to, many times – but I was afraid you’d be angry at my boldness."

I half-laughed. "I probably would have."

He seized on that. "Really, sir? Would you have been angry if I’d offered myself to you?"

I looked at him thoughtfully. "Maybe. Sure, it might have offended me at first."

For a moment his gaze grew wistful. "I don’t suppose ... " He paused and dropped his eyes, then raised them again hesitantly. "I don’t suppose you could tell Tiran that."

I frowned. "Don’t get me in the middle of this, Van."

He looked down again quickly. "Of course, sir. I’m sorry."

I watched as he tried to stand up, and offered him my hand to help him. "Look after yourself, Rocky," I said.

He smiled at me a little. "I am. Gabe’s doing the rounds for all of us – he’s a good nurse."

I walked with him to the door. He stopped there, and turned back to me. "Mr. Obernikoch – I won’t be able to come back here for a while. I can’t ... I can’t do anything else until I make things right with Tiran. Do you understand?" he asked.

I did. I leaned over and brushed my lips against his cheek. "Good luck."

He smiled at me, and for a moment his eyes grew limpid. "Thank you, sir. I’ll miss you."


**********


Rocky was right, I didn’t see him again for a long time after that. Even at the house, I didn’t bump into him. And he didn’t join Tiran and I when we went out in the evenings the way he used to. I guessed he must be spending a lot of time upstairs, in his own room, perhaps still waiting for a chance to speak to Tiran.

Meanwhile, I had similar visits from each of the other subs. I accepted their apologies and let them know I wasn’t angry. They were relieved, but it was obvious their bigger concern was Tiran.

The wounds healed slowly. The boys recovered from their punishments and we gradually resumed our usual activities – the Monday meetings, my office hours, the cleaning schedule at my place. Since Rocky still wasn’t making any appearances, Blackie quietly began helping Gabe out with the chores.

Tiran stayed angry for a long time, but I could see how the boys pursued him, relentlessly. He didn’t want to speak to anyone at first, but they wore him down, stealing moments with him wherever they could, offering their submission with their apologies. I would come across them now and again, in quiet corners and private spaces, one of them at Tiran’s feet, murmuring quiet pleading words. And gradually, I noticed that Tiran starting staying home more, speaking more, even smiling occasionally.

It was a slow process but it worked. After a few weeks, things were almost back to normal, though there was a latent shyness in the air, a hint of rawness -- like a face scrubbed clean after a bout of tears – that lasted much longer.


**********


At some point I became aware that everyone had been forgiven – except Rocky. I still hadn’t seen him since that day I said good-bye to him on my front porch.

Tiran never spoke of him; it was as if Rocky no longer existed. I saw that Tiran had resumed his normal life in every other way, but without Rocky constantly at his side, or quietly in the background, something always seemed missing.

I thought back to the days before I’d ever arrived at the estate. Back then, Tiran came to visit me periodically, but the rest of the time I saw him through the media. Tiran Marx, the playboy zillionaire with the scandalous lifestyle, was always in the public eye. And I remembered how, as I watched Tiran on the news or in the gossip rags, Rocky was always there, in the background. The best friend. The trusted advisor, the right hand man. I’d formed my opinion of Rocky long before I ever met him, and one of my original goals when I started working here had been to sever his bond with Tiran.

Yet now, as I watched Tiran without Rocky, I couldn’t get over how wrong it felt. Tiran seemed alone, unprotected, bereft. Who would look after him, if not Rocky?


**********


I found Tiran one day, sitting at the top of the cliff that overlooks the ocean behind the house. Strange to see him so solitary; he was usually in the middle of everything, at the centre of every crowd, the object we all revolved around.* I walked over quietly and sat down beside him.

"Hey," Tiran said, turning to me with a smile, and for once he seemed real, life-sized, just an ordinary man with an ordinary life.

"Hi, Tiry," I said, and for a few minutes we sat, companionably, watching the sun edge down towards the sparkling horizon in front of us.

Finally I steeled myself and turned to him; it was time to ask the question that was on my mind. "So … " I began quietly. "What’s happening with Rocky these days?"

It was the first time I’d mentioned his name since it all started. Tiran looked away, and I saw that he was holding himself back carefully. "Rocky? Oh … " he shrugged vaguely, not answering.

I watched him, wondering how far I could push. "Tiran … "

And then Tiran’s eyes met mine, and I was surprised at the concern in them, belying his original casualness. "I’m so sorry, Jack," he said suddenly.

"Sorry?" I wasn’t sure what he meant. "For what? I’m not mad at him."

"How could you not be?" Tiran asked, and now I heard the emotion he was trying to keep back. "How could you not be angry at him – and me, too?"

I stared at Tiran, mystified. "What did you do, Tiry?"

Tiran shook his head and looked away for a minute. "I trusted him. I swear, Jackie, I just wanted you to be happy. I would never have …"

It was my turn to look away now, avoiding Tiran as he watched me searchingly. "I’m not sure what you mean," I said quickly.

Tiran reached toward me, put a hand on my arm. "I thought you two … I thought you had an understanding. I thought he was looking after you. And all this time, he didn’t even offer himself … " Tiran broke off and looked away again. "It’s inexcusable."

I stared at him, hardly understanding what he was saying. That wasn’t exactly the way I’d thought of it. "Ti – " I began. "Are you sure he knew ... I mean, maybe the boys really didn’t know they should have ... "

He cut me off sharply. "Of course they did. We both know how clear I was. Look at Gabe – he did the right thing, didn’t he?"

There was no answer to that. I tried a slightly different tack. "Maybe I should have ... "

Tiran shook his head. "Don’t blame yourself, Jack. They knew better. Rocky most of all."

I frowned, still unsatisfied, and tried to think of something else to say. But Tiran wasn’t waiting.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly. He sat for a minute, still holding my arm, and when I turned to look at him I was shocked at the sadness I saw in his expression. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. "I’m going to go look after it," he announced firmly, and got to his feet, looking down at me resolutely. "See you later, Jack."

He left, and I stayed where I was for a long time, sitting unmoving at the top of the cliff. All I could think about was the sorrow I’d just seen in his eyes. At one time I’d believed Tiran was untouchable, but for the last few weeks I’d seen him hurting. And now I knew that some of his pain was for me.

Again, I found myself remembering the years before I moved here. Tiran had been a casual friend, I realized now – breezing into town to hang out with me for a few days at a time. The truth was that I’d barely known him, but I’d loved the idea of knowing him, of counting Tiran Marx among my close friends. I’d formed a kind of exaggerated impression of him, an idealized image formed as much by what I saw through the public eye as from what was actually in front of me.

And yet, Tiran had seen enough in me to want to pursue our friendship. When the boys asked for a disciplinarian, he made the offer to me and I accepted it. I’d arrived with all my convictions firmly in place, thinking of him with a kind of sympathetic awe – as an icon to be protected, powerful but vulnerable, overly generous, exposed.

Over the last couple of years, I’d lost a lot of those illusions. I no longer believed Tiran was always right, his subs undeserving and exploitive. Now I realized he was often mistaken, sometimes irrational; at times he over-reacted, at times his judgment was off. I recognized his flaws and weaknesses and sometimes I criticized him.

Strange how all of that only made me like him more. For better or worse, it was the real person I knew now, with all his complexities and ambiguities. If I no longer thought of him with blind loyalty, I did feel an affection that was honest, warm, rooted in reality. And maybe for the first time, I realized he returned it.

I was still sitting there, the sun long since gone, when I heard the sound of slow, familiar footsteps behind me. Rocky.

I turned and stared at him in surprise. "Rocky," I said blankly.

He gave me a tentative smile. "Hey, sir," he said quietly.

I felt a sudden stab of hope. "Is it – is it all okay now?" I asked. "Ti said he was going to look after it."

Rocky hesitated, standing just behind me. "May I join you for a moment, sir?"

"Sure." I moved to make room, and looked him over. It had been weeks – a month, maybe – since I’d last seen him. He looked good, and seemed well, physically; he moved easily and the wounds had obviously healed. But there was something different in his expression.

He sat down beside me on the edge of the cliff, and gave me another tiny smile. It was like he couldn’t stop himself, even though he knew he had nothing to be happy about. "I’ve missed you," he said softly.

I smiled back a little. "Me too."

"A lot," he added, as though he didn’t think I understood. And I guess I didn’t because right after that he said, "I wanted to see you before I go, sir. I don’t know when I’ll see you again. I’m leaving tomorrow."

I stared at him. "What?"

Rocky nodded and looked down. "It just hasn’t ... " He stopped, then tried again. "It looks like he can’t get past it. So he ..." Rocky’s breath caught slightly in his throat. "He decided it was best for me to go away for a while."

I stared at Rocky in disbelief. This was what Tiran had meant by fixing it?

"It’s not ... I still belong to him," Rocky said, and I couldn’t tell if he was trying to reassure me or himself. "I’m sure he’ll want me back sometime. But right now ... he doesn’t."

"But did you tell him – "

"I can’t tell him anything," Rocky said, shaking his head. "He won’t listen to me. He hasn’t let me speak to him since this started."

I couldn’t look at Rocky. "Where will you go?" I asked in a low voice.

He lifted a shoulder. "Back to Celeste and the kids. It’s not so bad."

I took in a long breath. Yes, Tiran would probably miss him eventually. And then maybe Rocky would come back. If I was lucky.

I thought back to the day – almost two years ago now – when I’d first arrived at Tiran’s estate. I remembered how Rocky had greeted me at the door of the mansion, full of pleasure and contained excitement. What had he been thinking then? And what had I?

"Everything I believed when I first got here," I said, thinking aloud, "was wrong."

There was a second’s pause, as Rocky adjusted to my train of thought; then he laughed a little. "The details may have been wrong," he said after a moment. "But the general idea wasn’t. That’s why I trusted you so much ... from the beginning. You thought Tiran deserved better, and you were right."

I looked at him, my mind returning to those early days, the feelings flooding back to me. It’s true – I had believed Tiran deserved better than Rocky. I’d been so … angry then. So resentful. At Rocky most of all.

"You wanted to break me," Rocky said, almost as though he could read my thoughts.

I nodded. "I always have. Right up until ... "

Rocky shook his head slightly. "I was broken long ago, sir," he told me, and for once I realized the truth of it. "Years ago."

"I knew about you even before I got here," I told him slowly, remembering. "I knew you were Tiran’s closest friend … the one he counted on."

Rocky smiled a little. "You thought I was using that to take advantage of him." He put his hand over mine, his touch light and warm. "You were going to save Tiran from me," he said.

I nodded, giving Rocky a wry look. It seemed absurd now.

"Maybe you … wanted to protect him yourself," Rocky said, watching me.

I frowned, thinking about what he said, still caught up in the past. Protecting Tiran ... yes, that’s what I thought I was doing then.

"I hope you still want to," Rocky said softly. "Because that’s what he needs from you now."

I looked at him sharply, not understanding. "What?"

Rocky held my gaze, his face serious and intent. "Who will look after Tiran when I’m gone, sir? You know he needs someone he can count on. Someone he trusts."

Thoughts were beginning to form in the back of my mind; a jumble of ideas slowly starting to connect. "Rocky …"

He looked at me wistfully. "I … I always hoped we could do it together. Me and you. I thought between the two of us … but it’s too late." He stopped for a moment, and then picked up my hand, the one he had covered with his, and raised it to his face. "He wants you to hold the veto power after I leave. Will you take it, sir? Will you be the one who looks after him now?"

I stared down, over the edge of the cliff, not quite believing what was happening. Wasn’t this what I had actually wanted? I remembered again how Rocky had always been there, in the way – Tiran’s best friend, his second in command. The man I’d always wanted to be. No wonder I had loathed the sight of him.

Rocky was watching my face closely. After a moment he nodded. "I’ll tell him you will," he said quietly.

I turned to him, hardly registering what he said. "Rocky – "

He brought my hand to his mouth, turned it over, kissed the palm. "Good-bye, sir," he said. "Thank you. I’ll let Tiran know."

He stood up before I realized what was happening and headed back to the house, leaving me there motionless, my mind spinning, watching as he walked away. When he was gone I turned back toward the ocean, drawing my legs up under me and leaning forward to rest my face in my hands.

I knew. Finally. I finally understood what I’d been feeling all this time. My anger and disdain when I first arrived, my obsession with Rocky’s influence, the way his intimacy and familiarity with Tiran had infuriated me. Those last nagging resentments; my anger that night in the club when Rocky had handled things so deftly. The reason I’d never been able to take what he offered.

Jealousy. He had what I wanted, what I’d always wanted. The role I’d always believed was mine, but for him.

And now it was. All I had to do was accept it.

I stood up and walked back to the house.






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*Image courtesy my lovely beta, brknhalo241.


Next chapter: To the victor go the spoils