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.]

. . .


A heavy sigh escaped Jake’s chest as he unbuttoned to top few buttons of his shirt. Closing his eyes he took a moment before he looked up into the mirror. He looked older, somehow more masculine than he remembered himself being. Beneath closed eyes he shuddered. Leaving the apartment this morning, he thought a lot about the day ahead, imagining how bloody and ugly death would be. Watching Ricky’s execution hadn’t been any of that. There was splatter and mess as the bullet burst through his skull but it wasn’t like the movies. There was a quick cleanup and an unmoving body. A smirk on Valda’s face as they left didn’t bother Jake. Death was supposed to be something but not that.

Drying his face on a hand towel, Jake headed back to Mason’s side. The living room seemed crowded even though only the four enforcers, Mason and a doctor occupied it. Currently in the process of bandaging Mason’s shoulder, the doctor operated like an apparition, invisible to everyone.

“Obi and Jake will come with me to the office tomorrow. Leon, I want you and Marcus to go and collect the monthly reports.”

A few nods later, Jake sat by himself in the living room as the doctor packed his things.

“Would you like me to look at those?”

Jake looked over at the doctor. “Huh?”

“Your arms.” The quiet man pointed toward his rolled up sleeves where the bruises and scabs of his punishment remained.

“No need.” Mason’s voice from the bedroom hallway made the doctor jump.

“Yes.” The doctor nodded and left with his coat over one arm.

“Join me for a drink.”

“Yes sir.” Following the other man down the hall, Jake didn’t bother contemplating Mason’s newest and latest angle. He would find out in due time.

The ill silence of the room lengthened the minutes, interrupted briefly by the sound of feet on carpet. The cold glass felt heavy in Jake’s hand. Staring at the caramel colored liquor inside, he didn’t bother to drink from the glass. The routine ingrained itself into his mannerisms. The order to ‘come here’ would be next, and then another bout of sex or masturbation or fellatio would leave him grasping at the shards of reality. His boss may be the coldest man he’d met, but, in bed, Valda Mason was pure fire. These are the conditions of our deal, Jake assured himself, nothing more.

“Come here.”

There words were the same tone as always, but they felt like a silken purr against Jake’s skin. His cock began to thicken at the suggestion. Tonight he didn’t bother with the pretense of sitting next to Mason; he unbuttoned his shirt and slid to his knees. The dark husk in the other man’s eyes nearly shook his resolve. These are the conditions of our deal, nothing else. Long fingers twisted in his hair and yanked him forward into a brutal kiss.

Jake didn’t bother with the pleasantries he nipped his way down Mason’s chest, enjoying the way the other man relaxed back into the sofa. Catching the zipper with his teeth, Jake held Mason’s gaze. Briefly, he wondered if Mason saw the same dead look that Jake saw in the mirror every morning.

Mason tasted like he always did, and smelled of his usual deep musk. Jake didn’t bother with foreplay. After a few quick strokes, he blew Mason with the proficiency and calculation with which he did everything in his new life. Mason’s cum stuck in his throat as it always did, and as he got up from his place on the floor, he took a drink from his previously untouched glass. The liquor cleared away all of the sticky release and burned as it settled warmly in his stomach.

“Stroke yourself.”

The command briefly caught Jake off guard. Typically, Mason made sure he came, but wasn’t one for a show. Not since their first encounter, anyway. Unbuckling his pants, Jake swallowed heavily as his cock bobbed into sight from his boxer briefs.

“Take off your pants and spread you legs.”

Jake kicked off his pants but could only spread his legs so wide given the width of the chair.

Mason stood and, in a flash, yanked Jake’s knees up and over the arms of the chair. “Much better.”

Jake swallowed heavy and began to jerk himself off again.

“Look at me Jake.”

Jake met his eyes.

“I said look at me.” Mason leaned forward from his seat on the coffee table and gripped Jake’s face. “Don’t bother with that blank stare. You belong to me.”

Jake nodded and continued to meet Mason’s eyes, the hand on his face letting him do nothing else. Two fingers slipped between his slightly parted lips and a light groan echoed around them.

“That’s it. Get them nice and wet.”

The fingers traced over his lips for a moment before he felt them at his hole. His head jerked back as one finger pressed into him.

“No no no…” The laughter in Mason’s eyes made Jake growl. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A whimper bubbled in his throat as that blessed finger withdrew only to tease at his entrance again.

“Beg.”

“Please.”

“That’s not begging, Jake.” Mason scoffed. “We both know what you sound like when you’re begging me.”

Frustration boiled in him and the teasing slight pressure only made it worse. “Do it… finger me.”

“Not until you beg.”

A painful grip on his wrist made Jake stop his quick pace on his cock. He growled when the pressure of a cock ring slid down his dick.

“Resume masturbating.” Mason leaned back and took a slow drink from his glass.

Jake could have sworn there was a smile at the corner of his lips. Mason could make him do this for hours. Eventually he would give in, they both knew it. Determined not to, Jake kept his pace and stared down Mason, even as his breath quickened.

“Give in Jake. Beg.”

There was no anger in that voice, only that sickening calm tone of confidence that made Jake want to squeeze Mason’s neck more than his own cock. The need to cum raged in his loins and his dick pulsed painfully in his hand. The finger returned for three blissful and hard trusts inside him only to disappear. His own breath sounded labored in his ear.

“You’re such a good little whore. Beg.”

Grinding his teeth, Jake refused to let anything more than lustful grunts escape his lips. Minutes ticked by and Jake found his face once again caught in Mason’s hand as he fought not to beg. His hand faltered in its rhythm only to be guided by the rough grip of Mason’s other hand around his own. Jake felt himself slipping, felt his lips parting against his will. The smirk on Mason’s lips nearly made him shut his mouth again, but suddenly those fingers were back and all thought ended. A gasp exploded from his chest.

The blank look shattered under Mason’s continued cold gaze, “That’s better. Beg me, Jake.”

“Fuck… don’t stop.”

The weakness and desperation in the other man’s eyes brought a content smile to Mason’s lips.

“Yes… unh.” His eyes came back to Mason’s face and a sound of a straggled groan weld up in his chest. Mason was too good. He always knew. He always knew exactly how Jake wanted it and how to make him beg and writhe to get it. A third finger and Jake’s legs slid down from the arms of the couch as his back arched. The fingers left and he whimpered at those cold yellow, green eyes.

“On the bed.”

Jake gritted his teeth and walked to the bed on legs that didn’t seem to want to work right. This is part of the deal, nothing more. The fingers on his cheek turned his blank stare back toward Mason.

“None of that.”

The near whisper startled him. The kiss that followed downright frightened him. Mason’s lips were gentle and soft and somehow not enough. As he attempted to deepen the kiss, Mason would pull away, only to return when Jake remained still.

“Good boy.”

The words confused him. This was the man that beat him bloody and raw a week ago… This was the man that threatened his family… This was the man whose smooth hands were suddenly petting down his spine.

This wasn’t sex; it’s another lesson, Jake’s body screamed. He growled in frustration, “Fuck me already.”

“No. Stay still.”

The tone was one of warning and Jake fought not to move from his spot on the edge of the bed. Soft lips fluttered against the pulse in his neck and Jake found him tilting his head to allow Mason better access. The caresses were lies. The kisses were traps. A shiver shook through him that he couldn’t quite stop. “Don’t.”

“I will enjoy you how I like. Lie back on the bed.”

Gathering his resolve, Jake did as he was told. The pillows under his head were large and he buried his hands in them in an attempt not to touch Mason. Lies… sweet sensual lies traveled over every inch of his body and tilted his hips upward. Deceit pressed into him slowly, filling him full. Yellow, green shackles pinned him down and he was helpless to resist in that moment.

“You belong to me.”

The words were a threat. Jake knew that somewhere in his mind, but they sounded like a promise. They filled up his chest the way Mason’s cock filled him. It was warm and hot and slick inside him. He would be empty soon, he knew that but for now he pretended he wouldn’t be. He pretended the deceit was honesty, the lies were truths; and those sweet, delicious traps weren’t catching him to hold him down but were lifting him up. Shackles would be an embrace… He pretended. He came in a blinding white spray between their bodies as Mason removed the ring. He moaned hard into the pliant and demur mouth against his own… He was filled, filled until overflowing with hope.

. . .

Jake’s phone blared an angry ring tone as he worked his way through yet another round of exercises. It really wasn’t so bad one the pain of the bruises and welts subsided. Leon and Marcus looked at him differently but that really couldn’t be helped. As his phone blared again, Jake sighed and moved to pick it up from beside his water bottle. “Hello.”

The muffled noise of static crinkled in his ear before the phone went dead. The number wasn’t one he knew.

He returned to his workout with the cold proficiency that came so readily these days. His body wasn’t sore from use as usual, which was an odd feeling. He liked the sex to be rough, hard, quick and over. Jake shook his head. That was one lesson he wouldn’t believe. There would never be any promises between them. There was nothing but a contract. Maybe he would burn it like that woman hand, or tear it into a thousand pieces and pick up his life and leave. That sounded beautiful.

. . .

The office was as usual. Jake stood inside the door; Obi stood outside the door. Lunch came on time. The beeping noise from Mason’s voice sounded slowly and Mason picked up the receiver.

“….yes.” A wave of the hand and Jake was shoed away.

The secretary smiled and Jake moved to where Obi stood. “Another boring day, Obi.”

“Just the way I like them.”

“No kidding.”

The door handle clicked and Leon and Marcus returned. Marcus lugged a heavy set of boxes with him.

“In here. All of you.” Mason’s voce gave away nothing and they followed.

“Obi take Jake out to the training facility. Return him no earlier than eight.”

A nod and the two men headed off, eager to begin another round of practice. Anything was better than the office all day.

. . .

Freshly showered from the gym Jake climbed the stairs to the next floor. He brought out his phone to turn it back on. Immediately it rand to life.

“Hello.”

“Jake!”

The tone in her voice made Jake’s heart pound. “Alice? What’s wrong!?’”

“Where have you been! I’ve been calling.” Her sobs tore him up.

“calm down, what’s going on.”

“She’s dead… someone came to the house and they killed her… she’s dead Jake.”

Jake nearly dropped the phone.

“Mr. Enders.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m the attending that worked on your mother. If you could please come down to First Mercy Hospital.”

“Yes, of course.”

The cab was easy to get. The hospital was crowded and smelled heavily of disinfectant. His stomach rolled. The woman at the desk was brief as she pointed him toward the doctor’s office his sister sat in. Her body trembled and shook against him.

“Shhhh, Alice. It’s okay. I’m right here.” He petted her hair gently. “Calm down. Tell me what happened.”

She shook her head back and forth. “I can’t tell it again. I can’t. I just can’t.”

“It’s okay. Breath.” He helped her sit and cradled his little sister until she was quite again.

“I don’t know who they were. They just barged in and shot mom. I should have been there… oh god.” He crying began anew and he waited for it to subside again. “They shot her. They just shot her right in the head… so much blood.” She just shook now, her face contorted and red and stricken. He mouth hung open as she nearly screamed with her grief.

“It’s okay, please… calm down… it’s okay. Just rest here I’m gonna talk to the doctor for a minute.”

She sobbed and clung to him.

“You have to let me go if I’m going to talk to him.”

“come back… don’t leave again.. come back.”

“I will, you just got to calm down. I’ll be right back.”

Jake took a long deep breath and looked from side to side down the hall.

“You must be Mr. Enders.”

Shaking the hand, Jake eyes the other man, “Yes, and you are.”

“Dr. Conclan. We spoke on the phone.”

“What exactly happened to my mother?”

“I don’t know. Your sister was the one admitted. She passed out at one point, though mostly from shock. Since then she’s been having a series of panic attacks. We’re trying to calm her down, she’s receive another sedative shortly.”

Jake nodded. “Are the police here.”

“No, they left shortly after they got her primary statement. They left a card.”

Jake flipped it over in his hand.

“Can I take her home?”

“I’d like to keep her hear at least until the panic attacks stop.”

Jake nodded.

. . .

The door crashed open with a heavy bang and Obi raised his gun immediately. “What the hell, Jake?”

“Where is he?”

“Bedroom. What happened.”

The door to the bedroom slammed shut and Mason looked up at him and then at the loaded gun in his hand.

“Who was it, you son of a bitch.” Jake didn’t bother waiting for an answer.

...

R&R