"Jack" Series, Part 2: Jack Adjusts

**Many thanks to JS, Catana and Arya_Arsay for the kind reviews!**
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6. A Discussion, and a Discovery


As the months went on, I spent a little less time with Tiran. I don’t want to say he lost interest in me – he still treated me like his best friend – but his attention span isn’t very long. New people came along, and I have to say it took the pressure off me a bit. Having all that force of personality focused on me was fun at first, but it could grow a bit wearing.

Still, Tiran and I were the alpha-males of the estate, and I enjoyed it. After I’d been there a few months, Tiran took to announcing "Jack’s in charge," when he told us he was going away. I think he might have started off saying it sardonically, but – for whatever reason – it stuck, and soon there was a general understanding that I was in command of the estate whenever Tiran wasn’t there.

Of course being in charge didn’t actually involve very much. Tiran had carefully arranged his life so that he had no major obligations or responsibilities – everything that required regular attention was farmed out to expert, well-paid staff, resulting in a smooth-functioning, efficient organization with little intervention from Tiran, which is exactly the way he wanted it.

And if Tiran wasn’t needed much when he was around, I had even less to deal with when he wasn’t. Occasionally one of the managers would bring me something – a hiring or firing, an awkward dilemma to resolve or paperwork required. I’d consult with a few people, maybe contact Tiran if he was reachable, then make a final call on whatever needed to be done.

It was kind of fun for me to be king of the hill, though it didn’t make much difference in practice – I had plenty of authority even when I wasn’t officially in charge of the whole place.

Meanwhile, I was developing connections of my own, both on the property and off. At home, Paul Armstrong was one of my closest companions now; we had a common bond and mutual respect, though I understood he could be a bit touchy on some issues.

Paul’s work with the foundation brought him to the estate most days, so I often had lunch or a drink with him. And when I wanted a break, I’d go over to his place on the other complex. Tom Van Mertz was there a lot, though Paul seemed to keep him on a pretty tight leash. I gathered that Tom was still going to school on some kind of flexible schedule, and that he also worked for Paul as a kind of secretary, as well as keeping house for him. Apparently he was studying cooking as well, which made meals at Paul’s place quite enjoyable.

The more I got to know Paul, the more I thought the background Gabe had given me was accurate. When Paul and Tiran and I hung out, I could see that Tiran was always careful of Paul’s pride. Paul would occasionally make a pointed reference to his independence, but for the most part he and Tiran seemed to have made their peace.

Having heard useful information about Paul from Gabe, I thought I might get some of the background I was missing about Gabe from Paul.

"So," I asked Paul one day, as we sat out on his terrace, "Why did Tiran want to make Gabe his legal slave anyway?"

Paul looked a little surprised. But the fact is, I’d often wondered. Like most people in the western hemisphere, I’d followed the court case in the media at the time – landmark, momentous, history-changing, it was called at the time, not to mention chilling, evil, the death of freedom. Those of us in the D/s community were even more caught up in it than most. By the time I met Tiran, it was old news to him and he’d never shown any interest in talking about it. But the more I got to know Tiran, the more his participation in the whole thing struck me as odd.

"I mean," I said to Paul, "It’s hard to see why he would have put himself through all that legal trouble and expense for so many years. He doesn’t even seem very interested in Gabe now."

Paul responded flippantly at first. "Is that so surprising? You see how fast Tiran tires of things …"

I frowned a little. "So that’s what it was? He was infatuated at the time?"

"No!" Paul laughed. "I wouldn’t say he was ever infatuated with Gabe. Well, maybe a little – way before that … back when Gabe was just turning 18 and obviously worshipped Ti. I think Tiran was kind of taken with him then."

I nodded. "But that was long before this court case, right?"

"Oh, years. Tiran had pretty much lost all interest in Gabe by then. You know it was only because of Rocky that Tiran ever took Gabe back after their big falling out ..."

"You’re saying Tiran hasn’t really cared about Gabe since that famous second chance?"

Paul cocked his head. "No, I think he cares now. They did work through that thing – I think Tiran’s grown quite fond of Gabe again. It just took some time."

"But that wasn’t why he went to court for the right to legally own Gabe."

"Not at all," Paul agreed.

Tom came out of the house just then, with fresh drinks, and murmured something about dinner being ready soon.

"We’ll eat out here," Paul told him. "If that’s okay with you, Jack?"

"Sure." I took my glass from Tom and watched as he lowered himself to the floor against the wall of the house.

"But remember," Paul resumed suddenly. "It wasn’t Tiran looking for the right to own Gabe. It was Gabe fighting for the right to be enslaved."

I nodded. "Yeah, that’s right. I remember they kept making that distinction."

Paul glanced at me. "You followed the case at the time? Did you know Ti then?"

"No, but of course I followed it. I think everyone on the planet heard about it. It was huge."

"Yeah." Paul nodded slowly. "It was … a major milestone in the history of the western world."

"But I still don’t get why Tiran did it. It was an awful lot of time and money and – notoriety, for something he doesn’t even care much about."

Paul gave a slightly mocking laugh. "You think notoriety is a deterrent? Tiran loves being infamous. That was probably part of the appeal."

"I guess. But – I mean, he got death-threats, didn’t he? He still has security issues …"

Paul shrugged dismissively. "He’d have security issues regardless. It’s the money, not the court case now. No one with his kind of money could live without security precautions."

"So … what are you saying, Army – he did it for the publicity?"

"No." Paul shook his head. "I don’t think the publicity bothered him, but that’s not why he did it. He did it for Roman."

"Roman?" I’d heard the name before; they all spoke of him occasionally, but I’d never met him.

"Yeah, his friend Roman. Lives up the coast, you ever meet him?"

"No. Not yet. Does he ever come here?"

"Sure. You’ll see him sometime. One of Tiry’s oldest friends."

"And yours?" I asked curiously.

Paul half-shrugged. "Roman and I … have a different take on things. He’s a good guy, but I don’t agree with everything he does."

"So, Roman put Tiran up to the court case?"

"Yeah." Paul looked at me thoughtfully. "Roman’s a big – activist. He has a lot of ideas about, you know – personal liberty and freedom, the right to make individual choices. And around that time the whole gay rights thing had pretty much been won and people were moving on to, you know, other personal rights. So that was one of Roman’s big issues at the time."

I kind of remembered those discussions in the news and the media, now that Paul mentioned it. Seemed like back in the dark ages. "What was one of Roman’s issues?" I asked.

"Personal rights, personal kinks – you know. He’s one of those people who worked to take all the big fetishes out of the closet, helped to make them socially acceptable."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Yeah, I really needed the rest of society giving their blessing to my life as a dom."

Paul looked a little serious. "I know, it doesn’t matter much to you and me. But I guess it was important to a lot of people at the time … "

"Insecure twats," I said unsympathetically.

"Maybe – but you have to admit that life is kind of easier for us now."

I shrugged. "I’m not so sure it makes much difference to me. I’d be what I am no matter what the rest of the world thought of it."

Paul smiled. "Well, I guess we could debate it – and that’s just the kind of thing Roman does. He’s spent his whole life having these kinds of discussions and, you know, pushing society where he thinks it needs to go."

Light was dawning on me know. "So ... Tiran’s court case was a step along the way to changing society, for Roman."

"Well, I think it was more than just a step." Paul watched as Tom began setting the table under the gazebo for dinner. "It was pretty significant."

"A landmark," I agreed dryly. "But why them? Why Tiran and Gabe?"

"Well, Roman needed a good test case. And – I mean, it took him a long time to find the right one. He needed something airtight and convincing."

"And …" I added, the light glowing stronger now. "He needed someone with money."

"Lots of money," Paul nodded. "Tiran was perfect. He had basically just finished making his first billion and was getting bored. And then Gabe – well, Gabe was perfect too."

It was all fitting into place now. "Of course. Gabe’s been infatuated with Tiran since day one, hasn’t he? And he’s a natural-born slave …"

"Exactly," Paul said. Was that a touch of bitterness I heard in his voice? "Gabe was totally sympathetic to the court – smart, well-spoken, good-looking, not so young that people thought he didn’t know his mind … and totally owned by Tiran. You just had to listen to him to hear it. If ever there was a poster boy for voluntary slavery, Gabe was it."

"Which is probably why it worked."

"Yes," Paul said. "That, and … the time was right."

I sat for a moment, thinking about it. "And Tiran?" I asked finally. "What was in it for him?"

Paul shrugged. "Nothing, really. He was helping out his friend Roman. I don’t think Tiran cares about the right to enslavement one way or the other. Any more than he cares about any other abstract issue or political cause. He’s a hedonist; he cares about what makes life good for him – nothing else."

I glanced at Paul curiously. His words might sound judgmental, but he spoke them neutrally. It was as if he had a particularly clear-eyed perspective on Tiran’s morality and had found a way to accept it.

"And you?" I asked hesitantly at last, remembering what Gabe had told me. "What do you think about what Tiran did?"

Paul didn’t respond right away, and for a couple of minutes we sat in silence, watching as Tom came out again with a tray and quietly began putting food on the table. "I know my son is happy," Paul began finally, choosing his words carefully. "He’s fortunate to belong to Tiran; it’s what he wants – needs. I have no problem with – with their particular situation. And … I can see Roman’s point, really. I can see why he’d want to push things forward, have different kinds of choices legitimized. In a way …" Paul paused and half-smiled at me. "In a way we did the same thing when we adopted Gabe. Five men legally adopting a boy was unheard of at the time. We made history too, in our way."

I nodded appreciatively to him. "Absolutely, Paul. You know, I heard about that too, back then … though I have to admit I didn’t follow it so closely."

"You would have been a lot younger then," Paul said, laughing. "I doubt you were paying much attention to legal politics at that age." He grew sober again. "But it’s a slippery slope. I can’t get away from that. For better or worse, Gabe’s case set a precedent – as Roman intended. And it might make perfect sense for Tiran to own Gabe, but that doesn’t mean every other case using the precedent is going to be so appropriate."

I shrugged a little. "It’s still not widely used, though. There are a few other cases of legal ownership, but it’s not that easy to … I know a few doms with subs who tried to follow Gabe’s path, and failed. From my understanding, the decision was totally restricted – the court set the bar really high, in terms of being convinced that the slave party really knows what he wants."

"Sure, that’s true now," Paul agreed. "I know it’s difficult to meet the legal test of informed consent at this point. But how long will that last? All you need is a slightly less vigilant court, or judges who take the test less seriously. How long before subs start getting pressured into applying even when they don’t necessarily want to be owned? How long till it’s possible for kids to legally give themselves to the first person they fall in love with? How long till pimps start looking for easy slaves – and then, how long till selling slaves is legal? How long till rich old men start offering money to poor kids to entice them into slavery?"

I laughed cynically at the last part. "Hasn’t that always happened, Army? Maybe not here, but in poor countries …"

Paul nodded. "Of course, but why would we want to bring that messed up system here? We should be trying to end it there, not importing it here."

I shook my head. "But we haven’t. None of the things you’re worrying about have ever happened here – have they?"

"Not yet," Paul admitted, and I saw a sadness in his eyes. "But give it time. I’m afraid that’s where – where Tiran’s cavalier agreement to help out his friend will take us, in the end."

I thought about it for a couple of moments, while Paul sat in silence, watching his own boy move quietly around the table. I could see his point, objectively. But I had to admit that my personal feelings probably leaned more towards Roman’s – people should be free to choose their own destiny, even if the rest of the world thinks they’re crazy for it.

Anyway, it certainly explained why Paul hadn’t taken any steps to legalize his ownership of Tom. And it suggested that Gabe was on the right track when he described Paul’s opposition to slavery as a source of tension between Paul and Tiran. As I reflected, Tom stepped over to us softly.

"Dinner’s ready whenever you are, master," he said to Paul.

Paul turned to me and smiled. "Sorry to bring you down, Jackie. Come on over and let’s eat."

I got up and brushed his shoulder briefly. "No, Army – I brought it up."

As we reached the table, Paul looked down at the two place settings and frowned at Tom. "Two places, Van? You know Jack is joining us."

I glanced at Tom just in time to see his eyes flick over to me and back to Paul. "Of course, master … " he murmured.

"Oh," Paul said abruptly, getting it. And then to me, "Will you be offended if Tom sits at the table with us, Jack?"

"Not at all," I said easily although, truthfully, I was always a bit appalled at being expected to eat meals at the same table as Tiran’s boys. "If that’s what you usually do, it’s fine with me."

"He doesn’t have to," Paul said, and I heard a touch of defensiveness in his voice. "He can lie at my feet while we eat, if you prefer."

I was amused to see that Paul’s pride extended here too – he had the typical dom’s need to save face in front of another top.

"I have no doubt," I told him soothingly. I thought I’d give Paul a chance to show off his control – or, if Tom failed the test, I’d have a new item for Tom’s list for the week – so I added a little tauntingly, "Is that right, Van Mertz? Do you crawl for Paul?"

Tom looked at me evenly. "Mr. Armstrong is my lord and master, sir," he said composedly. "It’s my honour to do whatever he wishes, including crawl if that’s his desire."

I guess that was a pass. I gave Paul an approving grin and sat down. "Why don’t you tell your sla—boy to get himself a plate." I laughed to myself at the near slip.

Paul looked a little pleased with himself as he nodded to Tom, who slipped away immediately.

"Seriously," I told Paul confidentially. "I eat lots of my meals at the same table as the boys I’ve been hired to discipline. It took some getting used to at first."

Paul smiled as he poured the wine. "I guess Tiran isn’t as formal with his subs as most masters are."

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me about it. It’s no wonder those boys are out of control."

"Who’s out of control?" Paul asked disbelievingly. "Gabe?"

I laughed. "No, Gabe’s in surprisingly good shape for the amount of training he gets."

"So who’s not?" Paul asked curiously. "Rusty?"

I shrugged, smiling. "Rusty’s a lost cause, I don’t even worry about him. But Dusty, Rocky … those guys have no idea how real subs act."

Paul nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I thought it would be a shock to their systems."

Tom was back by this time and serving us unobtrusively, spooning food on to our plates. Paul raised an eyebrow in his direction and said to me, "How’s this one doing?"

"With me?" I asked, smiling. "Looks like he’s doing pretty well with you."

"With you and Tiran, I meant," Paul said, pretending not to notice the compliment.

I gave Tom a considering look, and he kept his eyes studiously on his work. "He keeps out of trouble," I admitted grudgingly. "Tiran doesn’t usually have much to say about him … and I don’t see him around the estate that often so I don’t get many opportunities to critique his behaviour myself."

Paul nodded. "He’s not supposed to hang out over there without a good reason. Of which visiting his family is about the only one, and even that requires permission now."

"Tiran seems to go easy on him," I added thoughtfully, watching Paul.

Paul gave a sharp, half-bitter grunt. "Of course he does – he has no interest in Tom now that he can’t use him to get at me any more."

I raised my eyebrows; beside me, I could feel Tom tense slightly. There was a pause, then Paul relaxed and gave me an easy grin. "It’s just as well. What with you and me, and Pat and Adele – Tom doesn’t really need any more attention. So … no tips for me on keeping my boy well trained, Jack?" he added genially.

I laughed. "You’d have to pay me for that." I picked up my fork. "Though maybe we could do a trade sometime – I’d settle for some of Tom’s culinary service."

"Deal," Paul said. "It’s true – none of the other boys can cook for shit. You really ought to let me send Tom over to look after you anyway."

So that’s how Tom came to be added to my domestic line-up. I ended up with all the boys taking turns on the daily housecleaning, Tom coming by a few times a week to cook, and Gabe and Rocky looking after everything else – from running errands to waiting on me. I was starting to wonder how I’d ever lived without this much personal attention.


**********


A couple of months later, Tiran was overseas somewhere on one of his whirlwind adventures and I was holding the fort as usual. Paul had just finished some work at the main office and was having a drink with me, when Brendan, one of the financial managers, turned up at my door.

"I’m afraid we’ll need your help for a moment, Jack," he told me apologetically. "Got a little trouble with Zach, it looks like."

Zach Ramen was Tiran’s most recent obsession. They’d been spending a lot of time together before Tiran left – mostly long nights out on the town. Of course I’d spotted Zach for a user the first time I met him, but Tiran found him entertaining. I’d figured it was harmless; Tiran would move on to his next crush soon enough. Now Brendan seemed to be telling me that my figuring was wrong.

"What kind of trouble?" I asked, bracing myself.

Brendan handed me a piece of paper filled with small, close-set type. It looked like some kind of contract. I glanced down at it and Paul, who had followed me to the door, looked over my shoulder. "What is it?" I asked Brendan impatiently.

Brendan raised an eyebrow. "According to Zach, it’s an investment agreement."

I laughed. "What? He’s saying Ti agreed to invest in some scheme of his?"

"That’s what he’s saying."

I stared at him in disbelief. Tiran never talked business with anyone, ever. It bored him. I flipped the piece of paper over and scanned for a signature. "Is this Tiran’s?" I asked, seeing a familiar scrawl at the bottom of the page.

"I’m sure it is," Paul said, taking the paper out of my hand curiously. "He signs these things just to shut people up."

"Oh, come on," I said, still incredulous. "No one could take this seriously. How much does it say he’s going to invest?"

Paul looked up. "Fifty per cent of his net worth, apparently."

I think my jaw dropped. "Jesus Christ."

To my astonishment, Paul burst out laughing. "Don’t look so shocked, Jackie. People pull this kind of stunt with Tiran all the time. It almost never works."

Brendan nodded. "We just need your authorization, Jack, and we’ll start the legal paperwork right away. A drunken signature doesn’t usually stand up in court."

"Almost never?" I asked faintly. "Usually? But what if it does? Fifty per cent of his net worth?"

"Oh, Zach might get a bit of change out of it," Brendan conceded casually. "But a couple hundred grand is the most it could be."

I frowned. "What are you talking about? Ti’s worth a lot more than half a mil."

"Not on paper, he’s not," Paul said mildly, sinking comfortably into an armchair.

"That’s right," Brendan nodded at Paul. "We never leave him with more than a few hundred for play money."

"Oh." I sat down and gestured for Brendan to bring over whatever I needed to sign. "It’s all tied up in numbered companies or something?"

Brendan frowned slightly and shook his head. "No, corporate structures don’t always work; they can be traced back to their beneficiaries. Our system is a lot tighter. It’s all owned outright, free and clear – just not by him. That’s the only safe way to do it."

I lifted my head and stared at Brendan and Paul. "All of Tiran’s money is owned outright by someone else? Who?"

Paul gave me an odd look, as though surprised I didn’t already know. "Rocky," he said matter of factly.