So Stubborn
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Tom Stone (original character)/Harmon Rabb
Rating: adult
Tom Stone gets to Harmon Rabb.
A fantasy/dream set during my story Liberation.
Disclaimer: Harmon Rabb and Clayton Webb and Clark Palmer do not belong to me (oh, it's killing me to say that), but Tom Stone and Jack Kelleher do, and they're fine DSD agents. Palmer's so proud of them. :-)
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Warning: non-con and hitting, and you're going into a DSD agent's head here, and one trained by Palmer. I'm not responsible for how twisted his thoughts get.
This is a dream of Stone's; it does not happen. He'll tell you differently, but don't believe him, please.
Scarlet and Elizabeth beta'd, and I thank them for their suggestions and their time. Alexandra approved, as did Tinnean, but none of them approved of what happens to Rabb.
*****
Harmon Rabb is so stubborn. I've known that for a while now, as I watched him work and play and be all in love with Clayton Webb. Yes, they're in love. There's no doubt about that, even though Harm would probably let himself be tortured, nice thought, before he'd admit it, especially to me. Mr. Webb's smart; he'd say it out loud if he had to. I wonder why Mr. Webb feels this need to have that in his bed. Can't he find someone intelligent? Someone who knows better than to fuck with the DSD? But then Mr. Webb fucks with the DSD, and Mr. Palmer lets him. Not lets him, but understands it, and I understand it as well. He's CIA; we're DSD; and that's the way the world goes. Mr. Webb is a worthy opponent. Harm isn't. I suppose that's my problem with Harm. He's just not worthy.
I sip my beer. I'm not going to get drunk, not here on my own with Commander Rabb, because drunk is out of control, and I don't get out of control. It's not safe. Mr. Palmer would be furious if I did.
Mr. Palmer, who's locked up in Leavenworth. My fists clench at that. The insanity of anyone thinking that they had the right to do that to him. And it's taken me so long, too long, to figure out the way to get him out. I'm sure he had the idea as he was being taken in there, but I know I'm not as smart as he is. However, I am doing this and doing it well, and he'll understand that. Harm was going on about him being angry with me, but I know Mr. Palmer. He understands playing the game correctly. Harm doesn't understand games at all, but then how would he? He has all that information in his head about how to fly planes and nothing else. I wonder how he manages to remember all the legal jargon. It can't be easy for him.
I've got to make sure Jack understands that he's got to be very careful around Mr. Webb. He's figured out the game, good, but he can't figure out anything else or get Jack in his power. I trust Jack; he wouldn't tell a CIA man anything, but this is Mr. Webb, about whom I've been hearing for years now, and I'm wary. Maybe I should have grabbed both of them. I will, if something goes wrong. Worthy opponent or no, if something happens to Mr. Palmer, Mr. Webb will pay for it. Pay by watching his precious Commander Rabb suffer.
I check the monitor. Yes, Harm's still sleeping, and he's tossing, in pain, restless, and uncomfortable. Good. I hate that I have to let him sleep; it's not the way I was taught to treat a prisoner, but he's going to need to look decent when he's traded for Mr. Palmer. I wouldn't want Mr. Webb to think that he wasn't getting a good deal. Still, I could give Mr. Webb a better one. How can he let this one run around with that arrogant smile and attitude? If he were mine, I'd break him. Break him and teach him that his place was to do what he was told, when he was told to do it, and that he'd be better off learning what to do to please me. Mr. Webb is intelligent enough to do the same. But then he's CIA, and I'm sure they don't teach them proper manipulation of people. He'd be better off with us. I don't know why he's stayed with them, and neither does Mr. Palmer. He and Mr. Webb together would be as good as me and Jack. All four of us together could run everything. Maybe Mr. Palmer's working on that now that he's got Mr. Webb there talking with him. I know he's thought about it.
I watch Harm roll over. What an annoying man he is, but sleeping he's not so annoying, just attractive. It's fun to watch him.
I told Harm the truth. I'm not into guys, but what he doesn't know is that I know what to do with them. We learn everything in the DSD, everything and anything that could be useful, and how to manipulate people sexually has been very useful to me. I've had people in my bed that I'd never want there, but they certainly knew things I needed. One of Webb's people for one. Such a cute girl, and so eager to please. She wanted Mr. Webb, but he never saw her as anything more than a helpful and intelligent person, and it broke her tiny heart. I gave her my best impersonation of him, and she fell for it and into that hotel bed, and then she talked. People like to talk, Mr. Palmer always told us. Give them a chance, and they will. The trick is to make them believe that it's safe, that it's right, and I know how to do that.
I've been focused on this plan to get Mr. Palmer free, so focused that I haven't had time for my usual amusements, and the times I have gotten some sex, it's had to be more about the other person than myself. I could have Harm. I feel my cock harden. Yes, why not? Jack's tracking the papers, says they're definitely on the way; Mr. Palmer has Mr. Webb to work with; and the poor Commander's all alone in there. All I need is the right drug, or wait, no drugs. I feel like making him. The cuffs and the shackles will do just fine. He's the kind who will look good all chained up. I'm sure of that.
I stand. The drugs I put in his dinner should be enough to keep him out for a little while longer, long enough for me to get those jeans of his off and get him secured. Yes, Harm, you're going to find out just how good I am. But it's been a while for me. In the DSD you have to earn your pleasure, and I don't know if you're capable of earning anything from me.
*****
He comes to when I've got the cuffs on him, and of course he struggles. I get to hit him then, a nice crack of my hand across his face, and he stops just long enough for me to get his legs cuffed as well to the frame I brought in. Always use the right equipment, I was taught, and I had hopes I'd need this one. Jack checked in a little while ago, told me that Mr. Webb was fine and in decent spirits, and my CIA contact confirmed that he gave the right answer about the tapes, so I'm feeling very good. And having Harm stripped and spread out over a cold metal surface makes me feel even better. I'm sure Mr. Palmer won't begrudge me this. I'm taping it for him. A little present to brighten one of his nights when he's out. I know he'll want to see it.
"You goddamned fuck!" Ah, he's talking, but he's so predictable. I knew he'd start out swearing and insulting me, and without the first bit of creativity. No imagination.
"You don't know the first thing about being captured, do you, Harm?" No idiocy about using his rank now. He's mine. I've got latex gloves on now, so I don't mind shoving a finger into him. It has to hurt, and I want it to. I want him to hurt. I know that he's no virgin. I laugh. Not even close. I'm sure that Webb fucks him all the time. It's what Harm's made for. "Not the first thing at all. You belong to me. I told you that before, and it's still true. Now I'm going to show you."
His body is all tense, but he's not making any sound. Brave Harm. Trying to be just like your father, I'm sure. Go ahead and try to keep it to yourself. I'll get you to scream later, one way or another.
I pull out my finger when he doesn't make any noise after a few more thrusts. Time to confuse the commander. Never give them what they expect, Mr. Palmer taught me and Jack. Shake them up, make them think what you want them to think, then shake them up again. I know that Harm's going to be pitifully easy to confuse.
I get a tube of lubricant open and squeeze some on my finger, then stroke it on him. This time when I get my finger in he draws in a long breath, and I can see him relax a little. Really, Commander? How nice to see that I can make you happy. Maybe it would be more amusing to make him enjoy this. Then he'd never be rid of me. He'd have to live with the fact that his captor made him scream with pleasure, not pain. Yes, I think that Mr. Palmer would approve of that.
I start working him carefully and gently, using everything that I learned from Mr. Palmer's private sessions with me and Jack. I make myself remember what Jack liked, what made him groan. And of course what made me groan. Jack and I took turns working on each other, and Mr. Palmer instructed us both. Then there were the sessions he arranged with men and women he'd gotten for us, and the things we learned there by giving sex and taking it. In the DSD, you don't just get theory; you practice what you've learned, and you are practiced on. I know how to make it very good for Harm, maybe even better than Mr. Webb does. Yes, Harm, this may be the best you ever get it. Don't ever let him know. We will get Mr. Webb on our side, and then you'll be there, too, if Mr. Webb still wants you. Maybe he won't, and I'll get to kill you. I'd like that. I'll make sure that when Mr. Webb comes over to us, he knows that I'll do whatever he wants. Mr. Webb would be on Mr. Palmer's level, I'm sure, and I know how to behave toward my superiors.
I brush Harm's prostate and feel him shudder. Still no sound. Stubborn to the point of being certifiable. "You like this, Harm," I whisper, bending down so that my lips brush his ear. My finger finds his prostate again, and this time there's a sound from him, one that I wouldn't have heard if I weren't so close. Much better. "I know you do." I get more lubricant, then push another finger in to join the first, and I get that sound again, that sound of my victory over Harmon Rabb. I want to take out my cock and shove it into him, but not yet. I need him louder. I want him begging, if only with those sounds and that body. I'll have him the way that he deserves to be had, and he'll never be able to forget this. No simple rape for Harmon Rabb. That would be too easy.
"Bastard," he gasps when I crook both my fingers to make it even better for him.
I laugh. Does he think that I care about his opinion of me? "Do you make sounds like that for every bastard you meet, Harm? Or am I the first?" I reach around with my other hand and grasp his cock, which is hard, of course. "Oh, that's right, you only want Clayton Webb. It's all right, Harm, you don't have any choice at all. I told you that before." I start pumping his cock as I take out my fingers. He's back to making those sounds again, and I let myself enjoy them, especially when I feel him push forward into my grip. "I can do whatever I want to you, and I am. Doesn't that make you feel better? You don't have to admit anything."
I don't know if he's hearing me, but that's all right. He can watch the tape later. That might be even more amusing than what I'm doing now, seeing his reaction to it all.
I let go of his cock, and he lets out an even better sound, louder and with a good amount of desperation in it. I tear open and roll on a condom, then get my hand back on him and with the other cover the condom with more lubricant.
"No." He sounds even more desperate with my cock pressed against his hole, and I stop. Time to convince Harm a little more.
I work him until he makes one of those sounds I like hearing so much. "Yes." I keep working him as I push in, making one smooth thrust through the ring of muscle, and he makes an even better sound, tortured and full of pain. That will change. I know what I'm doing. I learned how to fuck from the best.
I stop working his cock as I get in far enough to hit his prostate, and then, oh, yes, I get the sounds I want. The loud ones, the ones that are him begging for more, begging for me, his captor. I'm going to have to make sure Mr. Palmer sees this one right away. He'll be very pleased with me. Maybe I should send a copy to Mr. Webb? But no, Mr. Webb is still the enemy, even though he's on our side right now. Pity. If he saw Harm like this, he'd get over him in a heartbeat. Just another pretty boy who has a hole to fuck. But Mr. Webb's smart; he'll get it.
I keep fucking him, knowing the tape's getting all of it, and when I'm about to shoot, I wrap my fingers around his cock and get him off, too. I'm not angry at him any more; he's too easy for that. Plus, this really doesn't count as pleasure. It's essential for the tape that he come with me fucking him. I have to show Mr. Palmer how well I've done. And I have done very well.
I come as his muscles squeeze around me, my mind full of Mr. Palmer free and Harm here hurt as Mr. Webb tells him it's over and Jack and I laughing together and tossing a coin to decide who'll get the girl first. All that I see will happen. I know it. All I need to do is keep going the way I am.
I pull out as soon as I'm done. He's shuddering, and I'll bet if I could see his face, I'd see tears. The tape will catch them.
I bend over him one last time. "You came for me. You're mine now. Get used to it."
The sound I hear from that is the best one of all: silence. He knows it's true. And this was fun. Maybe I'll take the time to show him again. He might even make a decent toy for Mr. Webb when I'm through with him.
*****
I open my eyes and sigh and see Harm toss and turn on his bed. I want to do that; I should do that, but Harmon Rabb has to go back to Clayton Webb, and if he goes back with a story about rape, Mr. Webb will hunt us down.
Pity.
The End
Posted 8/22/02
