Big Poppa ~ Part II

19.

Pryce was lying on the sofa, with Jean knelt next to him. He was squealing and giggling like a happy child, as Jean tickled him while saying thinks like, “Who’s my little piggy? There’s my little piggy!” He even leaned down, pulling the large shirt -generously offered by Poppa- up and blew him on his belly-button like one would do with a baby or a small kid. Pryce loved it.
Eventually, Jean pulled the exhausted, laughing boy up in his arms, and kissed him. Pryce instantly melted against him, eagerly accepting his reward. They slid off the sofa, onto one of the thick, warm rugs, to cuddle there.

The others watched it, thinking about all that had been said in the tub. “That guy will die, if he ever has to leave Jean,” Delwyn mumbled to Poppa. “I can imagine heroic rescues like in your tales. I don’t think I want to experience one of your stories in real life.”

“Me neither,” Poppa rumbled back. “Telling stories about noble warriors saving the maiden is one thing, but... I don’t think Jean is up to the job.”

“I hope Siarl will be sensible, when you talk with him.”

“He’s no fool, pretty. I truly believe he just wanted to make Jean’s wish come true... I doubt he wanted to get involved in something like child-abuse.”

“Mh. Well, at least they didn’t steal and break Pryce just for Jean... They already had him. Jean’s wish saved him, in a way.” Delwyn wasn’t happy with the whole idea about stealing kids, but what could he do? He would leave it up to Poppa and Siarl. As he looked at Pryce, so relaxed in the knowledge Jean would take care of him, he suddenly realized he counted on Poppa to do the same for him. He sighed softly, and crawled against the big belly of his lover. He wanted some cuddles too.

Siarl really missed out on something, Poppa thought amused as he held Delwyn close. What could possibly be better than having a sweet little lover, to care for, to make love with, and to be with forever?
But then again, Siarl was a workaholic. He worked long hours every night, and slept only little. He wouldn’t want to laze around in bed on a Sunday morning, or spend hours at the dinner table on Saturdays. He had no patience for a young lover with needs like Jean.

Looking at Jean, Poppa decided he still liked the young man. Jean had a gentle nature, was a cute fairy sometimes, and was a little dominant at the same time. Not the kind of guy Siarl needed. If Jean was a bit more dominant, and demanded attention, maybe then the club-owner would spend more time on him. But as it was, Jean stood no chance.
Maybe he had a big, dominating friend, Poppa thought, as he ran his list of buddies from the past through his mind. It required a big bully to pull Siarl out of his habit of all work and no play.

It was for the best, that Pryce had showed up. Jean had a healthy complexion, looked happy, and Pryce adored him. Pryce was sweet too; he was like a child, innocent and pure in his own, twisted way.

Poppa decided life was good.

*

Jean fretted in front of the door of the office. He had left Pryce in the apartment. It had taken some persuasion, as the boy absolutely didn’t want to let him go ‘out’ on his own, but he had succeeded to convince him he would come back within a few hours. It didn’t feel good to him either. But he had to talk with Siarl.

The club-owner looked up, smiling as he saw Jean. “Hello sweetheart! Had a good time?”

“Yes. Uh… Can we uh… talk, maybe? In… In private?”

“Of course… Take a break, guys,” Siarl said to his assistants, in a whole different tone of voice. “Come here, Jeanie,” he continued when they were alone. “Take a chair. Tell me what’s wrong, hm?”

“What makes you say something is wrong?” Jean said with a nervous chuckle.

“Mm.” Siarl smirked. “You’re alone, you’ve been biting your thumbnail so hard it’s bleeding a little, and you look pale with red blotches in your neck. Call me suspicious, but I think you’ve got something to tell me, and you’re scared about it.” He stood up, grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses, and returned. “You can smoke,” he said as he poured the drinks. “Talk, baby.”

Jean sipped the scotch, gratefully feeling the warmth in his throat and chest. He lit a cigarette, and inhaled deeply. “Siarl,” he began, quitting again to collect courage. “I’m not in love with you,” he then whispered. “I love you, but…”

“But?” Siarl pulled up an eyebrow, waiting for more. It didn’t come. “That’s what you have been so scared about?” he asked in disbelief. “To tell me you love me, but that you’re not in love with me? Oh honey, I know that, don’t I?”

“You know? What do you mean?”

“Oh, Jean…” laughing in his glass, Siarl looked at him. “When we met, you were all over me. You thought I was amazing, and we both felt something deep for each other very quickly. And we still have a deep connection. But to maintain that, and to make it grow, we have to work on it like Poppa and Delwyn. We didn’t work on it, did we…”

“I wanted to,” Jean mumbled, looking down on his chewed-up thumbnail. “I had the feeling you didn’t want to.”

Siarl shrugged. “Maybe I would have worked on it, sweetheart, if you had been more persuasive. You could have forced me to leave my work alone, and to give you attention. I made the mistake of waiting for you, I guess.”

“Is it my fault…?”

“No… I didn’t say that. But we were both a bit stupid to take things for granted when we weren’t ready for that yet. And then I made the mistake of giving you a special present, didn’t I? I gave you your own little pet.”

Jean looked even deeper down, to hide another nervous blush. “Yes…”

“Okay…” Siarl pulled the chair a bit closer, and gently put an arm on Jean’s shoulders. “Spit it all out, Jeanie… It’s okay, I won’t get mad at you, I promise. I’m no boogieman, sweetheart.”

“Hm. I don’t know where to start.” Siarl gave him time to think, and he finished his cigarette first. “You bought him, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Siarl said with a nod. “I did.”

“How much did you pay for him?”

“You shouldn’t ask, should you? He’s my gift to you… What does it matter? I could afford him.”

“Poppa said you probably paid a million for him,” Jean mumbled, feeling bad for involving his big friend.

“In what currency?” Siarl sniggered softly. “It doesn’t matter how much I paid, alright? Just go on.”

“Do you know where he comes from?”

“No, I don’t. Again, it’s not important. I asked around a bit, and someone told me he knew where to get a blond trained youngster. I wanted to see him first, but he said it wasn’t possible. I had to trust him. I don’t like to gamble, but I did. And it was a lucky strike. Or don’t you want him anymore?”

“I do!” Jean looked up, eyes wide. “I don’t want to give him… give him back, or something. But Siarl… What I mean is; did you ever wonder how a young, blond, English speaking man could become a trained slave?”

“Poppa again?” Siarl chuckled. “No, Jean, I didn’t. I guess he likes it. He loves being with you, so…” He shrugged a bit.

“He was a virgin,” Jean said.

“Excuse me?”

“He was a virgin,” Jean repeated. “They trained him with dildos and electric shocks, Siarl. They began the training when he was very young. Six years old, to be exact. And they took him from an orphanage.”

Siarl only blinked.

“You have given me a victim of child abuse,” Jean said, much softer now.

Pulling his arm slowly away, Siarl leaned back in his office chair. He stared at the wall for a moment. “I see,” he eventually said. “I’ll handle that. Is there anything else you would like to tell me?”

Jean opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a loud, high pitch scream coming from the Dome interrupted him. He jumped up and was out of the office before he knew it. “Pryce!”

Pryce screamed. He just stood there, close to the stairs leading to the office. A man dressed in leather stood at a short distance, his hands pressed against his ears, eyes closed and pale.

As soon as Jean grabbed him, Pryce was quiet. He flung himself between Jean’s arms so hard, the man almost tippled over. He didn’t cry or talk, only pressing himself tightly against his master, hands grasping his top.

Siarl had followed Jean down. He looked at the scene, drawing his conclusions. He gave the man in leather a smack against the back of his head. “Give me your membership card.”

“I didn’t do anything!” The man fumbled in his back pocket, and gave Siarl his card. “He came in, with his collar and sexy clothes, and he looked forlorn. I just wanted to see if I could help him!”

“You’re new,” Siarl said, checking the card. “I won’t be harsh to you, this time. That,” he pointed at Pryce, “is a personal slave. He’s wearing a tag for a reason, you fool…” He gave the card back, but the man trembled so hard he dropped it. Siarl didn’t pick it up for him. “Jean, take Pryce up to the office. We’ll continue our conversation. Give him a drink and calm him down. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Too shocked to care about how Siarl gave him orders, Jean took Pryce upstairs. He put him in the corner of the sofa, and wanted to walk to the bottle. Whimpering, Pryce grabbed his arm.
“I’m not going anywhere, puppy…” Leaning down, Jean gave him a kiss. “I’m here. Let me take the bottle, okay?”

After the kiss, Pryce allowed Jean to take a few steps to the desk, to get the scotch and glasses. He pouted and trembled, and crawled close against him when he returned. He sipped the offered scotch, pulled a face, and climbed on his lap. When Siarl came in, Pryce pretended he wasn’t there, hiding his face against Jean’s shoulder, arms between them. When Siarl ran his fingers affectionately through his hair, he made himself even smaller.

Siarl didn’t comment. He took a drink, sat down, and observed the two for a moment. Only when he saw the blonde relax a little between Jean’s arms, he spoke again. “Carry on, Jean. You were trying to tell me something.”

Jean didn’t know how to begin, just like when he came in. So far, his friend wasn’t mad at him… Maybe he could just say it. He trusted Poppa in his judgment that the dark-haired man was no fool. “I am in love,” he said quietly, looking up at Siarl. “You’re right; it was a mistake to give me a present like this. Pryce isn’t my dog, or my slave. He’s my lover.”

Calmly, Siarl sipped his drink. “Does he know what that means?” he asked. “Is he in love with you? He trusts you completely, but that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“He told me what he felt,” Jean said, slightly defensively. “And I know it’s true. I can’t explain, Siarl…”

“You can’t explain, because I don’t know what it feels like to be in love?” For the first time, Siarl sounded bitter. “I know you didn’t say it, but I’m not stupid. I do know what it feels like, Jean.” He looked at the young slave again. “Why is he so scared?”

“Perhaps because a man tried to ravish him?” Jean snapped unintentionally hard. “I told you he was a virgin!”

Startled at first, Siarl smirked. “Alright, I’m sorry,” he said. “You do know that guy didn’t try to rape him, didn’t you…? Good. But I do understand that Pryce didn’t know it, so I apologize. Can you calm him down enough to make him talk?”

Jean made soothing sounds, cuddling Pryce, until the trembling stopped. “You can talk, if you want to,” he said softly. Pryce shook his head. “He doesn’t like to talk,” Jean said to Siarl. “I think those men didn’t speak much.”

“Probably…” He saw Pryce whispering something in Jean’s ear. “What did he say?”

“He said he wants to go home with me. I think he’s a bit scared of you…”

“Hm… I can’t blame him. Go on; take him to your apartment before he faints or something. I have work to do.”

“You always work,” Jean said with a sigh. “That’s why it didn’t work out, between us.”

“I am going to work on that slave stuff,” Siarl muttered. “Don’t give me that attitude, Jeanie…”

“Oh.” Jean bit his lip. “Sorry… Be careful, Siarl. Poppa said it was big.”

“Big indeed,” Siarl nodded. “I’ll be careful. I’m not going to do much; I’m no hero like in Poppa’s tales. Now go, dammit… I don’t have to kick you out, do I? Oh! And you will continue to work here, right? The Blue Lotus…?”

“I’ll still work here. I like it here, Siarl.” Jean pushed Pryce off him, but kept an arm protectively around him. “Thank you for everything,” he said.

“No problem. Kiss…” He kissed Jean gently on the lips. “When you see my big friend, tell him he shouldn’t try to fix me up again, please. I know he has some gorgeous friends, but I’m not ready for a steady relationship.”

Too bad for him, Big Poppa wouldn’t listen to Jean anyway. He was already roaming through his old correspondence, emails and phonebooks. It wasn’t as if he was meddling. He was just having fun… And he wanted a party with at least six people, at New Year’s Eve.
“We’ll have a party at the cabin,” he said pleased. The second hut was finished, and he had personally bought the furniture. Jean could change some things later, if he wanted to. “That way we have enough room to sleep. What do you say?”

“You know I love the lake,” Delwyn said, happily nodding. He was making pancakes. Poppa was already at the table, drinking milk. “Good idea. We can do whatever we want. Will you invite Siarl?”

“Yes. Jean, Pryce, Siarl and Leonin.”

Delwyn missed a flip. “Who?” he asked, turning around.

“Leonin,” Poppa said smugly. “He’s one of my friends from the Technical University. I went to school, you know… I know Siarl from high school and Leonin from college. You really should look in my photo albums some more!”

“Yes… I should…” Delwyn shook his head, pouring the last scoop of batter in his pan. “It’s your own fault. You never mention anybody, and then suddenly you have friends everywhere.”

“I’m busy,” Poppa shrugged. “We’re all busy. I have more friends, in different countries even. Want to see him, or would you like it to be a surprise?”

Done with the last pancake, Delwyn brought the stack to the table. “Is he anything like Siarl?” he asked.

“He’s worse,” Poppa said with a broad, evil grin.