"Jack" Series, Part 2: Jack Adjusts

Part 2:
Jack Adjusts


1. A Public Scene

In the days and weeks following my arrival, things began settling into a routine. I produced the duty schedule and learned to find my way around the house without getting lost. Tiran continued to wine and dine me and introduce me to the community. Rocky came in and out of town; I’m not sure where he slept before Tiran ordered him to take over one of the guest rooms. The boys set up a runner system and got used to life without mobile communications. They began rotating housekeeping shifts at the chalet, and I learned to tolerate them – even when it was Rocky’s turn.

I had set up regular office hours; two hours in the morning, three days a week. I made the time available expecting to respond to complaints – protests or arguments, or threats perhaps. Instead, somewhat to surprise, I got shy visits from the boys, offering ad hoc apologies or new items for my weekly list; it started to feel like a sort of mini-confessional. Sometimes they came to ask logistical questions – about the schedule or the rules, or to clarify my orders. Gabe checked in regularly, asking if everything was to my satisfaction, and what they could do to make me more comfortable.

Afternoons were for discipline. I held corporal punishment sessions almost daily, one-on-one at first and then, as I grew more adjusted, sometimes in groups of two or three. The boys, I quickly realized, had not been exposed to any form of organized physical discipline, so I had to start off slow, using a few basic crops and floggers, until they could build up some stamina. That was disappointing, since I’d been looking forward to trying out some new tools from the hot city stores. For now I was window-shopping.

But I used other techniques as well. For most infractions, I combined physical punishment with other consequences, like withdrawn privileges, restricted activities, curfews, labour in the fields and gardens of the estate, or bootcamp-style workouts. I ended up taking over most of the large gym on the complex for discipline purposes, prompting Tiran to order construction of a new building that he genially announced would be my "dungeon".

Normally I would have incorporated some kitchen and cleaning jobs into my range of penalties, but I avoided those on the basis of what Gabe had told me on that first day; I meant to ask Tiran about it some time. I had no problem assigning a few of my own household chores or errands as occasional punishments though.

Having no great faith in the boys under my command, but also not wanting to spend all my days overseeing them, I soon discovered ways to make the process more efficient. I took advantage of the various cameras and monitoring systems that were installed across the complex, and connected my tablet to the control room so that I could supervise real-time activities or review stored files wherever I happened to be, from beach to bar to back deck.

Before long I had to admit I was enjoying the gig. With access to essentially limitless technology and resources, an indulgent sponsor and eight surprisingly willing charges, the work was pleasant if occasionally boring. I still had no expectation of doing any actual training, and I didn’t take Tiran’s harem very seriously. But the boys seemed intent on keeping up appearances at least for now, and there was never a shortage of items on my weekly meeting list.

Eventually I found, almost despite myself, that I was developing a more strategic approach to the job. I continued to pick up information about the boys as I went along – their personalities, relationships, back stories. With a professional’s instinct, I was soon mulling over the most effective methods of discipline for each of them. But the one I was considering the most, I realized, was Rocky.

Fortunately, I had plenty of opportunities to experiment. While Tiran’s weekly list of items for Rocky often wasn't long – his lists weren't long for any of them, which didn’t surprise me – I certainly never had trouble coming up with a longer list of my own for Rocky. I tried out corporal punishment first, expecting it to be most effective on a large man, unused to physical discipline and accustomed to being near the top of the social ladder. But far from resisting, whatever I did – from whipping to old-fashioned ass-beating – Rocky accepted it gracefully, thanked me politely, and came back for more without hesitation. Nothing had any apparent impact on his composure – or his relationship with Tiran.

I was starting to grow impatient. What I wanted, I realized, was to see Rocky off-balance, uncomfortable, disturbed. It was time to try something else.


**********


Meanwhile, I was still going out with Tiran regularly. I noticed that while Tiran would often invite Rocky along with us, Rocky would invariably decline. But since Tiran liked to socialize in large groups, we ended up most evenings at some kind of gathering – an event, a club, a houseparty – and it would be no surprise to find the rest of the gang, Rocky included, already there.

So I often saw Rocky in public with Tiran. In social situations, Rocky was clearly used to playing the role of Tiran’s old friend or best buddy. At first it was tempting to underestimate him - with his large size and athletic background, I wasn’t expecting much in the way of sparkling repartee. But he was surprisingly smart and sophisticated in conversation. In groups, his ease and rapport with Tiran and their familiar, fast-paced banter tended to draw attention. Rocky seemed to prefer to stay a little out of the limelight, but he would keep up with Tiran, trading barbs and playful jibes effortlessly from the sidelines, sometimes carrying on separate conversations with other friends at the same time.

I admit it took a little adjusting, at first, to see Rocky’s transition from deferential and low-key at home with Tiran into such a jovial, robust public companion. Perhaps it was particularly grating on me at the time, since I was still finding my own way in this new social scene. Not that I lacked confidence; I know I have that kind of cool, natural dominance that attracts people instinctively, especially the type of followers who gravitate toward Tiran. But something about seeing Rocky holding court in one of Tiran’s circles, boisterous and laughing, secure among their friends, seemed to just bring out my venom. I found myself waiting, again, for a chance to break this infuriating man who had inexplicably gained such a place of privilege in Tiran’s life.

True to style, I watched and waited for the first couple of weeks, storing information and keeping a neutral distance from Rocky in social settings. One night, late, I found myself out with Tiran at a local bar, with the usual entourage around. Tiran was his typical magnetic self – slightly drunk, lively and amusing, holding court with a group of Hollywood types – while Rocky, in a slightly different circle, chatted with one or two of his own friends nearby.

I was half-watching both groups from a barstool, ignoring the eager young admirer who had latched himself on to me and scoping out a more interesting sub at the pool table, so I didn’t catch exactly what Tiran said when he threw some comment out, as he often did, over the heads of his companions, towards Rocky. Rocky, as usual, caught the allusion without missing a beat and I heard him toss back a flippant, playfully insulting response to Tiran, much to the enjoyment of his friends. That’s when I realized that this was the opportunity I’d been waiting for.

With a deft movement I reached out, caught the back of Rocky’s hooded sweater and calmly pulled him backwards off his chair. He landed with a quiet thud on the floor at the foot of my barstool, his face level with my boots. I caught a quick glimpse of shock on his face but, again, his reactions were fast; in a split second he was on his knees, head bowed and waiting for my direction.

"You think it’s okay to talk to Tiran like that cause we’re out in public?" I asked casually, too low to be overheard by anyone else.

Rocky shook his head, not looking up. "No, sir."

"Turn around," I ordered coolly. "Facing Tiran. Head down. Down to the floor, asshole. Ass up. Up in the air. Forehead on the floor. Hold it. Now kiss the ground that Tiran walks on."

Rocky obeyed each order without hesitation, and the kiss he dropped to the floor was lingering, as though he wanted to show that despite the abrupt change of mindset his heart was in it.

Across the room, I saw Tiran glance towards us, curiously. Everything had happened so quickly that there was no general reaction as yet; Rocky’s companions were staring open-mouthed, but the rest of the crowd seemed to be only just aware that anything had gone down.

I turned back to Rocky expressionlessly. "Up. Back to your place." I couldn’t help but look across the room again, and this time I saw a shadow crossing Tiran’s face. For a heartbeat, I felt a touch of doubt. But now Rocky was on his way back to his friends, and from behind I saw him meet Tiran's eyes, and instantly the shadow was gone, and Tiran turned back to his companion, light and laughing and unconcerned as always. Just as that registered, I saw Rocky sit back down and pick up his beer, with a grin at his friends as though this happened every day of the week, and some kind of joke that instantly turned the open-mouthed stares around him to amused smiles. And just like that, the moment was over as though it had never happened, and indeed, most people in the room barely knew that it had.

I turned my attention back to the kid at the pool table and ignored Rocky for the rest of the evening. But if truth be known, I never did finish sizing up the kid; my mind was too busy with other thoughts that night.


**********


The next morning when I went to start my office hours as usual, I wasn’t at all surprised to see Rocky waiting in the anteroom outside. I smiled inwardly as I passed him, expecting at minimum a lecture about the nature of his relationship with Tiran and the limits of my professional authority.

So when the knock came tentatively at the door a couple of minutes later, I was braced.

Rocky came in and knelt in front and a little to the side of the desk. They all did this; after I’d pushed the other chairs back to the wall and taped a large X to the floor at the appropriate position, they got the message.

"Good morning, Mr. Obernikoch," Rocky said, voice low, eyes on the floor.

"Point, Van," I responded irritably.

"I’m sorry, sir. I just wanted to thank you for last night."

I paused. "For – ?"

"For your discipline, I mean. I … didn’t have chance to thank you at the time."

"And?" I prompted sharply.

"And … I was wondering if you wanted to add any further punishment."

"That will be dealt with at the meeting. And?" I was still suspicious.

Rocky looked nervous. "Nothing else, sir. I’m sorry to take up your time unnecessarily."

I sat back in my chair, taking some coffee and considering. The truth was, I still wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction the night before. Might as well take the bull by the horns.

"So. You liked being disciplined in public," I proposed sardonically.

A beat, then he answered quietly. "No, sir."

I lifted an eyebrow. "You didn’t like it, but you felt compelled to come and thank me for it."

Rocky’s eyes were still on the ground, but I could feel his discomfort. Just what I wanted.

"I always appreciate your discipline, sir," he said finally.

I took some more coffee, leaning back and looking at him speculatively. "Did you think you were going to get a free ride in public?" I asked, after a minute.

"N-no." But again there was a split second of hesitation in Rocky’s voice. I was clearly on the right track.

After a moment he went on, more firmly. "I’m grateful for your vigilance, sir." He glanced up suddenly and flashed a fleeting grin at me. "Though I’m sorry that you had to work last night. It seems you don’t get much time off."

"Don’t you worry about me," I snapped. Could he be any more annoying? "It’s a pleasure. In fact, you can look forward to many more such public corrections in future."

I hadn’t entirely made up my mind until that moment. But if Rocky had provoked me into it, the sudden tension I saw on his still-lowered face told me I had hit on exactly what I was looking for.

He didn’t respond for a moment, and I enjoyed watching him struggle for composure. I waited until he had almost recovered, then asked him silkily, "Do you enjoy public humiliation, Van?"

I saw his jaw tense again, but this time he managed to respond without delay. "No, sir," he said quietly, and there was something in his voice I hadn’t expected – not just anxiety or resignation but a kind of open, clear-eyed submission that took me slightly by surprise.

But I was still relishing the moment. "Some people do, you know," I purred at him. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

He bit his lip and took a breath before he answered. "I understand, sir. But I don’t."

I nodded, and pushed him a little further. "Of course, if you don’t get off on being punished in front of large groups of friends and acquaintances … there’s always a way to avoid it, isn’t there?"

This time his eyes lifted towards me briefly before dropping again, and he responded tentatively. "Sir?"

Putting down my coffee cup, I got up and walked around to lean against the front of the desk, only a few steps away from him. "If you don’t want me to discipline you in public, don’t give me a reason to," I suggested pointedly. "You know what I called you on yesterday."

I paused and watched him. He was listening intently, frowning at the ground, and after a moment he nodded slightly. "I believe I do, sir," he murmured.

"So …" I drawled, challengingly. "You don’t want a repeat of last night … you know how to change your behaviour to avoid it."

This time the silence lingered. I waited, watching Rocky’s face as he struggled through his reactions. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet I could hardly hear him. "I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir," he whispered.

I thought of Rocky’s rapport with Tiran in public, their playful exchanges and intimate banter, and remembered again the shadow that had crossed Tiran’s face last night. Rocky’s response didn’t surprise me, but it didn’t change anything.

"Then you’ll take the consequences," I said harshly.

My response didn’t surprise him either. He nodded again. "Of course, sir," he said, more steadily this time.

I turned away from him, going over to the bar at the side of my office. I thought we were finished. "Anything else?" I asked drily, reaching for the soda water.

"Mr. Obernikoch," he began, hesitantly.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him looking straight at me with a troubled gaze. "What now?" I said irritably.

He dropped his eyes again as I turned back; then suddenly, he bent forward until his forehead rested on the ground. I guess I’d taught him that move last night. "I – I only need to add …" he began, his voice slightly muffled, "how deeply I regret the appearance of defying you, sir." He hesitated and added gently, "When my heart submits so fully."

I looked at him for a long minute, wondering again why he went to such lengths when Tiran wasn’t around. Did he think I reported on his every word? Was my office monitored?

Finally I finished pouring my glass. "Ten extra laps a day for failing to take my advice, Van Valkenburg. We’re finished."

"Thank you, Mr. Obernikoch," he said, before lifting his head. I watched expressionlessly as he sat up, then got to his feet. "And thank you for your time. May I do anything for you?"

That was their standard conversation-ender – it was like they considered me incapable of looking after myself. I didn’t bother to answer.

After I watched him leave, I leaned back against the bar and smiled slowly to myself. Not only had I found what I wanted, but now I had the perfect set-up. No, Rocky wouldn’t change his behaviour in public; I understood: Tiran didn’t want him to. But that was hardly going to stop me from punishing him for it. I could look forward to almost limitless opportunities, and now I knew how to get under Rocky’s skin exquisitely. It was a just a matter of time before I broke him.