"Jack" Series, Part 2: Jack Adjusts

5. A Puzzle


It's hard to describe how I felt that day when Rocky pulled his stunt with Tiran – when he suggested he was avoiding Tiran because of me. I almost didn’t believe what I was hearing at first. Of course I’d known for a while that Tiran was pissed, but I’d just figured it wasn’t my problem. To suddenly find myself listening to Rocky blame it all on me – I couldn’t quite process it at first. I finally grasped that Rocky must have deliberately avoided Tiran for months, waiting to be asked about it so he could point the finger at me.

I was used to finding Rocky infuriating, but this was beyond anything I’d felt before. And being so angry with Tiran was a new experience for me. As far as I was concerned, his carelessness, his lack of discipline over his subs, had led to this – him being manipulated and me being set-up. It was disrespectful for him to allow something like this to happen to me. I wasn’t about to stick around to see whether he took Rocky’s side or mine.

Even more than all of that, though, I was angry with myself. I was outraged at being caught – at allowing myself to be lulled into a stupid sense of false security that left me open to this kind of trap. I’d actually started to believe that maybe it wasn’t war between me and Rocky. Only to be blind-sided, ambushed when I’d least expected it.

I was cursing all three of us as I threw clothes into a bag, wanting only to get out of there – that house, the estate – before I had to see Tiran again. Of course it didn’t work that way – Tiran reached me just before I finished; another minute and I would have been gone.

I don’t even remember much of our conversation, though I know it wasn’t pleasant. Like I said, I was angry as much at Tiran as at Rocky, and for once his easy charm wasn’t working on me. Tiran clearly didn’t expect to find me so determined to leave. When he did realize how serious I was, he wisely focused on himself and didn’t try to defend Rocky. I know he apologized for his laxness and asked me to take as strong a hand as I felt I needed to with Rocky and the others. He didn’t discuss what had happened that morning at all, other than to say I could deal with it however I wanted to. Mostly, he argued that I wasn’t giving him enough credit; that he wasn’t the pushover I thought he was. I remember him saying that it didn’t matter if Rocky tried to manipulate him because he wasn’t going to let it happen.

Of course I wasn’t convinced of that. Rocky’s influence over Tiran was still an open question in my mind. I did eventually agree to stay but I wasn’t at all happy about it.

The funny thing was that after Tiran left, I kept going back to something he’d said early on in the conversation. When he first got to my house, Tiran had knocked and walked in without waiting, finding me upstairs in the bedroom.

"Oh," he’d said as he strolled into the room, "You are packing. He said you would be."

"Who?" I asked without thinking, slamming the lid down on the suitcase.

Tiran was still looking a little surprised as he answered. "Rocky. He said I should hurry because you’d be packing already, but I didn’t believe him."

I paid no attention to it at the time but afterwards this exchange kept coming back to me. Tiran really hadn’t expected to find me ready to leave – that was clear -- and he made the comment about Rocky before knowing how determined I was. So how could it be a lie? And yet how could it be true? Why would Rocky warn Tiran that I was about to quit? How would that help him? It made no sense; I couldn’t make sense of it. And yet I couldn’t quite find a way to forget about it either.

Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t see Rocky again for a day or so. By the time he came to see me in my office, my anger was almost replaced by curiosity.


**********


Of course that didn’t stop me from punishing him. At the next meeting, I assigned him a new daily beating for the rest of the month. By now we had progressed to some of my most intense floggers and for this occasion I introduced a couple of strokes from a light single-tail whip as well. I wanted to make it clear I was serious, that I would not tolerate any similar behaviour again, and also that I had the power to make him hurt a lot more than I had so far. Rocky took the new sessions stoically as always, though he couldn’t stop his body from reacting and I didn’t miss the way it trembled while he waited for the whip strokes.

I had seen enough to know that, despite Rocky’s quiet acceptance of his punishments, he didn’t enjoy pain. I do think he could adjust his mindset to accept the beatings rather than fight them, but he definitely didn’t get off on them. That was one of the differences for me, between what I was doing with Tiran’s boys and what I usually did. Until now, my scenes had been with bottoms who wanted to be there, who got a sexual high from the pain or from the experience of discipline or submission. Tiran’s boys had apparently, for whatever reason, agreed to submit to me, but it wasn’t clear whether they got any enjoyment out of it.

The biggest exception was Gabe. More than any of the others, he seemed to thrive on the corporal punishment I provided, not only as a form of discipline, but also, I could see, as a source of pleasure.

Despite being a natural, as well as legal, slave, Gabe still sometimes had difficulty in his role with Tiran. I wasn’t surprised; someone like Gabe does much better with a strong, consistent master who sets clear expectations and firm rules and doesn’t leave much room for flexibility. Tiran was sort of the opposite of that – strong and dominant perhaps, but highly capricious and inconsistent. Much of the time he didn’t seem to have any interest in Gabe or his services; but when he did, he expected instant, flawless results. It wouldn’t be easy for anyone, really. Gabe did his best and had many years of practice, but he screwed up once in a while like the rest of us would.

And while I might have had my doubts about the others, I had no trouble believing that Gabe valued and appreciated my skills and wanted to learn from them. He hated having Tiran – or me – angry with him and wanted to be punished for his mistakes. I was willing to put some effort into actually training Gabe, for Tiran’s benefit – I figured that out of all of his subs, Tiran ought to have at least one well-trained slave.

So I took my work with Gabe seriously, and it wasn’t a game for him either. Since I saw him as a true sub, I used real instruments with him, on bare flesh, not holding back much. And I couldn’t miss the telltale signs of his response. It wasn’t just that he was usually hard by the end of a session; I could see that he often reached a point the others didn’t, where the endorphins flooded and the pain became pleasure.

Gabe had made it clear to me, shyly, soon after I arrived, that he was at my service in every way. None of the others had said anything similar – and if they had I’m sure I’d only have been angry at their nerve in even thinking they might be worthy of serving me sexually. But coming from Gabe, my friend’s slave, the offer seemed appropriate enough, and I had taken advantage of it once or twice early on.

By now, though, I’d made my own connections in the local scene and had experienced subs regularly available for my pleasure. Since my sessions with Gabe were supposed to be about real discipline and training I didn’t want to mix them up with anything like enjoyment for him, so I kept sex out of it. But I sometimes wondered if Tiran was noticing – or benefiting from – Gabe’s reaction to his training.

Once, when Gabe was at my house on a cleaning shift, I noticed he was limping slightly as he walked over to bring me a drink.

"What’s that from, Sol?" I asked.

He looked a little puzzled. "Sir?"

"The limp. Hard night with Ti?"

"No, sir." He smiled a little. "From your discipline yesterday."

"Oh." I took the drink and said mock-sternly, "Well, I hope you’re not expecting sympathy. I saw how much you enjoyed that session."

Gabe flushed under my amused look. "I – I always appreciate your attention, sir."

I laughed. "I think you would have liked another kind of attention after that whipping. Wouldn’t you?" I challenged him.

From his embarrassment, I could tell that Gabe hadn’t been called out on his true nature much before. I figured I might as well start. "You get off on that stuff more than any of the others do, don’t you? Does Tiran realize what a pain-slut you are?"

Gabe looked serious and a little sad. "No, sir," he said, dropping his eyes.

"He doesn’t play those games with you?"

"No sir." He glanced up, searching my face questioningly. "I don’t – as far as I know he doesn’t play those kinds of games at all. He – he says they’re too much work."

"Yeah, I’ve heard that from him too," I admitted. "But that’s not to say he wouldn’t enjoy it, if it didn’t take an effort. You know, having a well-trained, experienced bottom who knows what to do and how to take it … that might make the whole scene a lot more palatable to him."

Gabe shot me a quick, appreciative glance but his words were still hesitant. "I … I’m really not sure my master … I’m just not sure he enjoys that kind of play."

"Are you crazy?" I said skeptically. "Of course he does. Tiran’s one of the most dominant people I know. You can’t love power as much as he does and not get off on that stuff – I should know, Solly. It’s true that it takes a bit of effort and Ti tends to avoid work, but that’s why you need to make it easy for him." I was watching Gabe closely. "Cause you’d like to play, wouldn’t you?"

"Yes sir." This time his eyes met mine evenly

"You should tell him that."

"I have."

I was a little surprised. "He doesn’t want to indulge you? But you’re a natural."

He smiled at me fleetingly. "I wish you’d tell him that."

I raised an eyebrow. "He doesn’t think you’re up for it?"

This time Gabe hesitated, and I realized there must be more to the story than I was getting. I didn’t want to pry into Tiran’s affairs, so maybe it was time for me to back off a little. "Actually," I mused, changing direction, "I’m surprised he’s been so hands-off with all of you guys. Doesn’t seem like he’s used much brute force on any of you."

Gabe nodded. "That’s true, sir. Other than the odd backhand or something when we’re really out of line, he usually doesn’t. But as you know – he doesn’t provide a lot of discipline in general. That’s why … that’s why we need your help so much."

I guess it’s a measure of how far I’d come over the past few months that I didn’t just dismiss Gabe’s last line as more hypocrisy. Now that I’d seen Tiran in action a few times, I could sort of see how the boys would welcome a little consistent, predictable discipline for a change. Of course my work didn’t alter Tiran’s behaviour, but I could see how it might help them learn how to respond and perhaps cope better.

So this time I just laughed at Gabe’s comment. "That’s why I’ve inherited a bunch of subs who’ve never been exposed to corporal punishment before."

Gabe smiled, looking a little more relaxed. "Yes, sir, unfortunately for you." He paused, then added a bit reluctantly, "Though … I think Tommy …" He hesitated and trailed away.

I was intrigued. "Tom – really? I thought Tiran treated him with kid gloves."

"Not Tiran, sir."

I looked at him with interest. "Oh – Paul? Really? I didn’t think he was the type."

"No – he’s not." Gabe still seemed uncomfortable. "I … I don’t think they do it for fun."

I looked at him with curiosity. I’d actually been spending a bit of time with Paul Armstrong lately. He was another natural dom, and he wasn’t beholden to Tiran, so I thought of him as almost a peer. He had a kind of edge to him that I found appealing. I had noticed, though, that there seemed to be some kind of lingering tension between Paul and Tiran. And Paul didn’t volunteer much information about Tom.

"You’re saying that Paul uses force to keep Tom in line? Doesn’t look to me like Tom needs it."

Gabe spoke quietly. "I don’t know all the details, sir. But I’m not sure it has to do with his behaviour now. I – I think …" He paused and seemed to choose his words carefully. "Tommy – Tom had a tough life before he came here. I think he might have done things back then that … that kind of haunt him."

I half-smiled. "Didn’t you come from some rough background too, Sol? Does every poor street kid from the urban jungle harbour secret sub tendencies?"

Gabe looked like he thought that was a fair question. "But we’re very different, sir – Tommy and me. I got out when I was pretty young, I didn’t really get into the worst of it before I left. And you know – I am what I am. I’d be the same thing I am now if I’d never left Detroit. I’d belong to someone there, just like I do here, I guess. Tom – he was older when he left, and … I don’t know what he had to do to survive but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. And I don’t think it was as easy for him when he got here either – I think he might have … there might have been some bad things that happened here too. I think Paul stepped in because he could see what was going on when Pat and Adele didn’t, and I think Tom knew he’d have to answer to Paul if he wanted to make it out here."

"So … you’re saying Tom isn’t a natural sub?"

Gabe cocked his head a little. "I’m not sure, sir. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have ended up as anyone’s boy back there in South Elsden. But I’m also fairly confident that he loves Paul and loves belonging to him. Whether that’s a – a product of circumstances or his own nature … I don’t think I could say."

"Well, I’m pretty sure Paul’s a natural top."

Gabe gave me a quick grin. "Really, you think? It’s so funny to hear that … I mean – growing up, Paulie was always … kind of the cuddliest one of my dads. He was the friendly, fun-loving one ..."

"Oh yeah? He doesn’t seem all that fun-loving these days."

"I know what you mean." Gabe had slipped down to the floor to continue the conversation, and he looked up at me reflectively. "I guess he kind of … changed along the way, sir."

"You’re saying he wasn’t always this serious and – prickly?"

Gabe smiled. "He is kind of prickly, isn’t he? No, he didn’t used to be like that at all. We used to call him the playboy – he was a total partier, very gay, very sociable, different guy every weekend – not that he brought tricks back to the house of course."

"So what happened?"

"I …’m not sure." Gabe turned his gaze back to the floor. "I think he … in a lot of ways, Paul kind of reacted against Tiran. I think Paul started to resent – you know, the way everything always sort of revolves around Tiran. And then when Tiran – when he took me back that time, gave me that second chance – I think Paul resented having to be grateful to him. Not that Tiran expected him to – I mean, I think Paul didn’t like feeling grateful. To Tiran."

I listened closely, nodding a little. What he said seemed to fit with what I’d seen so far.

Gabe looked up brightly. "I’m sorry to go on so long, sir. May I get you another drink?"

I shook my head. "So you think he still resents Tiran?"

"No sir." Gabe spoke decisively this time. "I mean, there was a period – you know, Paul didn’t live with us at first, Tiran really had to coax him to get him over here. Paul made such a point of not being in Tiran’s debt, not owing him anything … Then Tommy came along and … well, that made it worse for a while but – but I know they worked it out in the end."

"Paul and Tiran worked it out? But how did Tom make it worse?"

Gabe ducked his head a little. "It’s complicated. I don’t think – for whatever reason, I don’t think Paul really approves of Tiran owning me. So when it became apparent that Paul basically owns Tom … well, I think Paul thought Tiran was judging him."

"Wait a second." I brought up my hand to slow Gabe down. "Does Paul own Tom? Legally?"

"No sir. I didn’t mean that. I don’t think Paul approves of legal ownership. But he can’t change the fact that for all practical purposes, he owns Tom."

I smiled a little. "Against his better judgment?"

"Right." Gabe looked at me soberly. "I’m not sure if he’s … proud of it."

"And how did Tiran react to all of that – Paul being independent and disapproving and all? Tiran doesn’t seem like the type to let other people set the terms for him."

Gabe nodded. "That’s just the thing, though. Tiran totally respected Paul, he never tried to change his mind about anything, or … I think he was perfectly happy to take Paul on any terms – he just wanted for them to be friends. But it took Paul a long time to see that. So it was sort of a one-sided war for a long time – it’s like Paul couldn’t see that he was the only one fighting it."

I nodded slowly, still trying to work through all this in my mind. "But it doesn’t seem like a war now. How did it get resolved?"

Gabe raised his eyebrows. "I don’t actually know, sir. I think – well, all I know is that Tiran took Paul away somewhere. I mean, just whisked him away one day, none of us even knew what happened or where they went. I heard it was some remote island or something. And I never heard what happened there. I think Tiran just kept working away at Paul until he sorted it all out. Or wore Paul out, or something."

I laughed. Typical Tiran. But as Gabe went back to his chores and I sat unmoving in the growing dusk, mulling over what I’d heard, I found I was more curious than ever ... about Rocky. He and Paul had grown up together, even if Paul was a year or two younger, and they’d both known Tiran their whole lives. They’d adopted Gabe together, and gone through the same hell when they thought he was lost to them; they both had reason to appreciate the second chance Tiran had given Gabe. So how had Rocky and Paul turned out so differently? Why had Paul grown into this fiercely independent moral critic who forced Tiran to accept his terms … while Rocky seemed to have curved himself to meet Tiran’s needs, submitting to his smallest whims without complaint, constantly surrendering, giving in, backing down, asking nothing?


**********


I had a number of conversations like this with Gabe over the months that followed. I understood Gabe and recognized his type; I trusted him a little, I guess. So I talked and listened to him more than I would to the others. I asked him about some of the stories I was missing, mostly to fill in history or relationship dynamics. He was generally forthright and open, willing to tell me everything he knew; only occasionally he begged off, saying he didn’t have the full story or was afraid to speak for someone else. It was sort of excusable, and he was forthcoming most of the time, so I didn’t push it when he was reluctant. And there were some areas I never asked him about at all.

I guess the others could see that Gabe was developing a rapport with me, because he soon became the group’s spokesperson. He would be the one to speak up at meetings and act as a liaison between me and the boys when necessary.

So it was Gabe who came forward when the boys had a request, at a Monday morning meeting not too long after the scene on the beach where Tiran had clarified my authority. Starting, appropriately enough, with a request to make the request.

I could sense the general feeling of expectation in the room from the moment I walked in, but Gabe didn’t raise anything until the meeting was about to wrap up. After I’d reviewed privileges and given them the week’s duty schedule, Gabe looked up at me. "Sir," he said.

From the way the room quieted down, I knew this was what they’d been waiting for. They all shifted back to their formal kneeling positions, except Rocky who, I noticed, was able to make it through a full meeting without moving off his knees these days. I sat back in my chair, stretched out my legs expansively and looked at him. "Sol?"

A slight hesitation. "I was wondering whether we might be permitted to raise something with you before the meeting ends?"

"I have a couple of minutes."

"Thank you, sir. If we’re out of line or you don’t wish to discuss this, you only need to tell me."

I rolled my eyes. Always nice when your sub grants you permission. And Gabe was the best of the bunch. Sometimes I despaired of the whole lot of them.

Gabe saw my exasperation; he flushed and dropped his eyes. "I’m sorry sir. I didn’t mean …"

"You still have a lot to learn, Sol. We’ll talk about it at our session tomorrow."

He gave me a fleeting smile. "Thank you, sir."

I surveyed the room. "So? What’s up?"

They all looked at Gabe, and after a moment’s pause, he went on. "Mr. Obernikoch. We’ve been thinking about something … especially in light of – well. Sir, we’ve noticed that you occasionally have personal errands or – or chores that you assign one of us to do for you, as part of our discipline."

I stared at him. This was the last thing I’d expected. I mean – public humiliation, forced labour, brutal workouts, floggings … all this they take without a whimper, and now they’re going to complain about picking up my dry cleaning?

Gabe must have seen my expression because he stopped abruptly and looked at me with concern.

"What the fuck is the problem with that?" I demanded finally, defensive as well as shocked.

Gabe suddenly got it, and practically fell over in his anxiety to reassure me. "Oh, sir – there’s absolutely no problem with that, of course! … At least – at least, only that you treat it as a form of punishment."

I frowned. "What?"

Gabe shook his head, still anxious. "I’m so sorry for the confusion, sir. We’re certainly not complaining about running your errands." He almost looked amused at the idea. "We think that’s exactly what we should be doing. And I’m sure Tiran would think so too." He had grown serious again, and was looking at me intently. "I do remember that you talked to us about this, back when you first arrived and we asked you about it. So I – I hope you don’t think we’re being impertinent by raising the subject again."

I was still having a hard time following him. "I don’t get your point, Sol," I said irritably.

"Sir … Tiran was very clear– that day at the beach – that he expects us to treat you the way we treat him. Tiran has one of us at his service all day, every day. He has round the clock coverage from us – as you know, sir," Gabe added, nodding at the duty schedule in my hand. "Yet we only do the barest housekeeping for you – a couple of hours a day. And then when you do need something else done, it’s treated like a punishment for us."

Around the room, I could see the others nodding in support. Pat said earnestly, "It doesn’t seem appropriate, sir."

"Not to mention Tiran would kick our ass if he knew," Rusty added.

This time Dusty did swat Rusty, a quick slap to the back of his head. "Shut up, Andrews. Mr. Obernikoch, it’s not that we’re afraid of Tiran – well, of course we are, and we have good reason to be, especially now that you’re here." He stopped to give me a quick, broad grin. "But that’s not the point."

I shook my head. "What is the point?"

Dusty and Gabe exchanged looks, and Gabe took over again. "We just – we just wanted to raise this and see if we could come up with something more fitting for you. At the very least, when you have a job that needs to be done, do you think you could just – tell us and let us take care of it? That shouldn’t be part of our punishment or tied to any discipline … don’t you think, sir?" His voice was coaxing now, suppliant.

It was hard to take offence, but I held myself back, waiting for more.

"And – and we know we probably shouldn’t ask you about this again, but do you think you might consider letting us provide you with more service?" Gabe asked hesitantly. "I … I remember at the time, you asked why we didn’t hire new staff to look after your needs. If that’s still your desire, then please let us go ahead and do it. Of course you know – " He looked at me searchingly. "You know our preference would be to serve you ourselves. It would be our honour. And you’ve seen for yourself now that most of us have nothing better to do with our time." He added this a little sardonically, ducking his head. Then his eyes met mine again and I felt him asking me, trustingly, truthfully, from a place I understood. "Would you consider allowing us to serve you more regularly, Mr. Obernikoch?"

I found myself locked in Gabe’s gaze, and I held it for several minutes, deliberating. I did remember him asking me about it before, the day after my arrival – I could remember what I thought then and how I had resisted the request so strongly. Why did it all seem different now?

It was Gabe who finally dropped his eyes. "Perhaps you might let us know later, sir," he said quietly, as though already resigned to my refusal.

I looked around the room again. The boys all sat motionless, silent, waiting for my pronouncement.

"I …" I began, and for a moment I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. "I – I don’t want another duty schedule like Tiran’s. It’s too complicated."

Around the room, heads nodded, and in Gabe’s eyes I saw a spark of hope.

"Um …" I was still trying to settle my thoughts. "Not all day, not all of you rotating – it’s too much. I’ll take a couple of you, maybe a couple more hours a day, and – on-call. As I need you."

My half-formed thoughts seemed to meet with no objections; I saw receptive smiles.

I frowned. "But that means some of you will have more work than others. Anyone have a problem with that?"

They looked at each other, shaking their heads; no one hesitated.

Dusty spoke up, smiling openly. "I think we’re all wondering who will have the honour, sir."

Good question. I nodded at Gabe quickly. "Solomon."

Gabe smiled at me. "Thank you, sir," he said softly.

But I needed another name. I looked around the room blankly. Even as I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. "And Rocky," I heard myself add.

I saw Rocky’s head snap up; he couldn’t quite hide the look of shock before his expression returned to neutral – or maybe something a little softer than neutral. "Thank you sir," he said quietly.

I think I was as surprised as he was.