Debt and Ownership

[Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.]

. . .


Mason sat down at the conference table, at his back Jake stood with a distinct stiffness in his shoulders. The man at the opposite end of the table smirked.

“Since when are my bodyguards not allowed in your building?” Stephen Lauran smiled.

“Since it became apparent you no longer control your dogs.” Mason smiled back.

“I admit Ricky was rash, but he didn’t act as a member of my house when he attacked you.”

“Is he a free agent, now?”

“You know very well I do not want my son in the business.”

“Then he is still your responsibility.”

With teeth gritted, Lauran nodded.

“As a member of your household, I expected you had complete control over him. Either he doesn’t belong to you and I am free to deal with him on my own, or he belongs to you and we need deal with a breach of a treaty.” Mason stated his case in his usual cold tone, “Which is it.”

“He belongs to me.”

“The fact that he came to me demanding I hand over contracts to him is insulting enough, but when he laid a finger on my person, he crossed a very clear line.”

The other man grimaced, “I will punish him.”

“He struck me.” Mason continued, “Perhaps he needs retraining as well.”

“I will see it is taken care of.” Lauran ensured. “However I will not accept his actions for the terms of the treaty to be enacted.”

“There is no room for argument in this case. I believe my lawyers were clear.” Mason smirked. “Your blood spilled mine. I have the right to demand repayment.”

“You can’t expect me to offer up my own son.” Lauran accused.

“I’m not expecting it. I’m ordering it.”

“Something else.”

“Get out of my city.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You have your options. Make your decision before you attempt to contact me again.” Mason stood up and headed for the door.

Lauran moved to grab Mason’s arm. The next moment he slammed into the wall, grunting at the force of the blow and the sharp twist in his wrist.

“That is a properly trained dog.” Mason smirked. “Down, Jake.”

“Yes sir.”

Lauran glared at the young man.

“Heel.”

“Yes Sir.”

. . .

Jake lowered the pin in the stack of weights on the butterfly press, “So what’s up with this treaty shit?”

Obi paused in his rep pattern. “You know better than to ask questions. Asking important ones is worse.”

“What the hell? I’m putting my ass on the line; I should at least know why it’s getting shot at.”

“Fine, you really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t risk asking if I didn’t,” Jake nodded.

Shaking his sat up on the bench. “Ricky hitting Mason broke a clause in the treaty Lauran and Mason wrote together.”

“What treaty.”

“Back with things in the city were still a little murky on the hierarchy side, Mason showed up. He and his group of enforcers took out three rival groups to climb to the top. Times got vicious; innocent people got killed on both sides… a lot of innocent people. So the two biggest groups got together to draw a truce. They split the city down the middle and together wiped out the rest of the gangs running around.”

“So what happens now?”

“Either Lauran pays up with Ricky’s head or he leaves the city.” Obi shrugged and lay back on the bench.

“And if he does neither?”

Raising an eyebrow, Obi sat up. “You got a death wish, kid.”

Jake didn’t drop his eyes.

“Bad shit. That’s all you need to know.” Obi ducked back under the bar and began to press the weights up and down.

. . .

Mason sat across the table from Jake. With a smirk on his lips he watched Jake slip another piece of raw tuna between his lips. The pure joy on the younger man’s face made the meal all the more enjoyable. “I take it you’re enjoying?”

“I’ve never had sushi before.” Jake kept his eyes on the table.

“Technically, it’s sashimi.”

Jake nodded.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jake looked up only to be caught in a predatory stare from across the table.

“You’re distracted.”

“Trying to keep an eye out.”

A chuckle drew Jake’s eye across the table again.

“Why the sudden devotion to your job?”

“It’s what you’re paying me to do.”

“I’m also paying you to spread your legs but you’re not doing that at the moment.”

Jake choked on his tea. “I’m not a prostitute.”

“For me you are. And you moan just as prettily.”

Jake glared across the table.

“Do you have a problem?”

“No, Sir.” Jake turned back to the plate in front of him.

“You’re lucky the questions you asked had to do with your job or you’d be dead already.” Mason caught the shock and guilt that washed over Jake’s face.

“How did you-“

“Know.” Mason didn’t lose Jake’s eyes. “Don’t be stupid Jake. I know everything. I know everyone you talk to, every word you say or hear. I know every detail of your life. You belong to me Jake.”

“Yes sir.”

“Don’t think this is the end of the subject, Jake. Like every disobedient pet, you will be punished.”

Jake nodded slowly.

“Enjoy the meal Jake.”

Jake swallowed heavily.

. . .

Jake stood tensely on the carpet. He ground his teeth together as the belt came down to lay yet another welt over his already broken skin. Somewhere around the fortieth blow he’d lost count of how many times he’d been hit.

These brief breaks in punishment made everything all the worse. His senses focused on every inch of pain his body had and slowly worked it to a dull throb. Then the belt would start again and the pain would spark into a new high burn.

Soft finger tips lifted his chin. Jake stared into the yellow-green eyes and swallowed hard. The blank gaze aimed at him gave away nothing. A thumb brushed over his split lip, rubbing the salt from his skin into the wound. Jake let out a small noise of pain and fought not to move.

The belt came down across his face and he couldn’t help but cry out in pain.

Mason’s hand traced a curving line down Jake’s chest, mixing sweat into red painful welts.

A murmur of pain pleaded through Jake’s closed lips.

The hand lifted from his skin. The belt came down again. This time it lapped around one thigh striking hard at the tender flesh. Another blow to the back of one knee caused Jake to collapse to one knee.

“Get up.”

Jake nodded and swallowed dryly. “Yes sir.” Shaky knees held up.

Another strike came down on a thigh, one on his back, one to his side, and one to his chest.

Jake couldn’t stop the grunting cries from sounding in his chest.

“Make another noise and you will regret it.”

Jake nodded and longed to wipe the sweat from his face.

Another blow. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another.

Silence.

Jake failed to stifle a scream as the belt came down against already broken and welted flesh at the small of his back. His body was running wet with blood and sweat

Another. Another.

Knees quivered and shook with the intense pain that reeled through his nerves. Everything hurt. Everything.

He bit deeper into his lip and tasted fresh copper as Mason laid another six strikes over the back and insides of his legs.

“Five more.” Mason wielded the belt harder than before. Hard vicious lashes of the belt cut into flesh and one after another. “Three… two… one…”

Jake’s legs collapsed under the last strike to the small of his back again. “I’m sorry, sir.” Jake panted from the ground unable to find gather the concentration to stand.

“Remember this Jake. It’s not I how will regret a repeat lesson.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Get off the carpet before you stain it.”

Jake attempted to stand but only made it to his knees. He crawled across the floor and collapse on the cold tile, shaking and groaning in pain and relief.

. . .

The sound of footsteps woke Jake from his place on the floor. Jake immediately jerked upright, his hand reaching for the weapon that wasn’t there. He regretted it instantly, “Fuck.”

The footsteps stopped next to him and Jake looked up to find Mason buttoning one cuff over him. “Tell the men you are to double the gauntlet today and every day for the next month.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mason left.

Jake stood and stumbled back, hissing as tender, broken skin smashed against the edge of the counter. Look at the clock he realized he had no time to shower.

The fabric of the clean suit made every inch of his body scream in pain. Stiffly, Jake winced and hissed his way to the gym.

Leon looked up from his reps and immediately looked away.

Jake couldn’t help but cry out as he sat on the lock room bench. Changing cloths rasped painful fabric over every wound on his body. He panted pain and cried out in frustration as he bent to tie the laces of his sneakers.

“Holy shit.” Marcus gasped as Jake walked from the locker room in his basketball shorts and wife beater. Welts and blood showed here and there surrounded by a layer of dark ugly bruises.

“It looks worse than it is.” Jake smiled and attempted to move as normally as possible as he stretched.

“What-“

“Don’t finish that sentence, Marcus… ever.”

Marcus nodded and turned back to his own workout.

Jake finished as much of his stretching as he could and headed for the treadmill.

“You can’t possibly think you’re going to run the gauntlet this morning.”

Jake smiled. “Not only am I going to work out but I’ve got a double run everyday this month.”

Marcus shook his head.

Jake started to run. The welts on his inner thighs screamed as his body moved. He stumbled at the bright hot pain that built up in his body. He caught the edge of the treadmill and stopped for a moment, gasping for breath.

“Shit Jake.”

Turning at the new voice, Jake watched Obi’s eyes go wide at what he knew was the ugly welt on his face.

“You can’t run like that.”

“Have to.” Jake winced and turned back to the machine. A hand on his arm made him bite yet another cut into his lip.

Obi dropped his hand.

Jake smiled and started the machine. Ten minutes into his run he was fighting back screams and grunting with every breath.

“I can’t watch this. It’s sick.” Marcuse complained as he left the room. Another ten and Leon appeared in front of the treadmill. “Stop jake. You can’t keep going.”

“Orders are order, Leon.” Jake stared straight ahead, afraid of what he might see in Leon’s eyes.

“Jesus Jake. Don’t be an idiot.”

Jake shook his head, too focused to respond.

“I’m out. Can’t watch a train wreck.” Leon left the room.

Jake was gasping and nearly sobbing by the end of his run.

“Jake. Stop.”

“Obi. Get lost of you can’t take it.” Jake met his eyes. “It’ll be worse if I don’t.”

Obi nodded. “Good Luck.”

Jake nodded.

When the door clicked shut behind him Jake let out several huffing sobs. The pain became a long harsh throb that beat in time with his fast paced heart. Every workout was a new torture as bruised and split flesh pulled and stretched. Every muscle movement screamed agony. For well over four hours, he gasped and grunted and screamed his way through the gauntlet, determined not to be broken.


Awkwardly, he walked to the locker room. He tripped over the edge of a mat and fell forward. Heavy, screaming cries broke from his chest and he stood up. “Come on Jake. You can do this. You got through it, now get the fuck up. In the bathroom mirror he stared at the bruised face and bloodied lips. He looked worse than he felt. Cool water over his face stung and burned as it washed the salt from his skin. He refused to look down at his body. With gritted teeth, he soaped and cleaned away caked blood.

The rasp of clothing was more forgiving the second time around. He only grimaced slightly as he laced up on boot.

“He did this because of your questions.” Obi stated.

Jake didn’t look up to answer.

“I’m sorr-“

“Don’t be.” Jake cut him off. “I’m alive. I forgot who I am, Obi. Mason reminded me exactly where I stand.” Jake pushed past Obi. “Every dog learns his place eventually. Just took me a while.”

“You’re not a dog, Jake.”

“For the next six years, I am.” Jake corrected. “I belong to Mason.” Bitterness clung to his tongue as he reinserted his guns into their holsters.

“Mason usually protects what is his, not destroy it.”

“His protection comes at a price Obi.” Jake held out his arms. “This is my reminder of just what it costs. Don’t look so shocked, Obi. It’s worth it for what I’m getting.”

“Nothing is worth what you’re paying.”

“You’d be surprised.” Jake laughed sharply. “As long as he keeps his end of the bargain, I’ll keep mine.”

“You’re not the one that owed the money, kid.”

“No I’m not, but I’m the one working it off.” Jake spat out the acrid words. “I’ve never had much Obi; I’ve never been much either. The few good things I do have are worth this to protect.”

“You’re fucked in the head.”

“Maybe.” Jake agreed. “I’m not made of the same stuff as you and Leon remember.” He walked away, the door shutting behind him. “I’m stronger.”

. . .

R&R

. . .

Roya: Mason is made of flesh and blood, it does't take ones shoulder to fuck someone and he does have two arms, lol. Plus, Mason doesn't flinch at a dose of pain with his sex, just makes it moer interesting in his book.

JtheChosen1: Mason doesn't see it as destroying Jake. Mason sees it as a simple contract. He gets what he wants and the client gets what he signed for. Jake's the one that got himself into the sexual situation. Mason would have happily kept him a bodyguard, but now that the offers on the table, he won't refuse a good fuck.

MIdnightscream: I'm glad you caught the Mason-eque tenderness in the scene.