Until The Sun Comes Up
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clark Palmer/Harmon Rabb
Rating: adult
Harmon Rabb and his master, together.
An interlude set after The Challenge and before The Change.
Disclaimer: I wouldn't think Belisarius Productions and CBS would *want* these versions of their characters, but yes, the characters do belong to them, not me.
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.
Warnings: Dominance and hitting. Please don't read the story if either of those bother you.
For Scarlet in honor of her birthday (7/24/02), but finished and posted late. Beta'd by Tinnean, Alex, and Kita, all of whom I thank for their time and trouble.
*****
I got out of the car and didn't have to see him to know. I just knew. And when I glanced around the street and didn't see anyone who looked like him in any of the front yards, that didn't change anything.
Clark Palmer, my master, was there.
I smiled at Mac and kept pressing my point, but I didn't give a damn about it any more. All I had to do now was wait for him to come to me or summon me to come to him.
All I had to do was wait.
*****
I waited and waited - all through the interview with the corporal, who maintained his innocence even through the evidence we'd uncovered, all through the driving to place after place to see about finding some evidence that could support his claim, all through dinner with Mac, who was tired enough not to wonder at my preoccupation. I was tired of waiting by that time, but I didn't have any choice. Clark would come to me when he was ready. I knew my place.
I undressed and sat on my bed and thought about getting on my knees to wait for him, but maybe he wasn't going to come, and I should go to bed and get some sleep. I didn't think I'd be able to sleep. My cock was bobbing against my stomach, and I wanted to wrap my fingers around it and jerk off, but that was out of the question. Clark forbade me that release long ago.
Maybe he wasn't going to come. Maybe I was going to have to get through the night and the next day and go back to JAG not knowing when I'd see him again. If I'd see him again.
I stood up. I'd take a shower and stop being an idiot. Clark owned me. I was in this world to obey him. Everything else was secondary.
The cool water relaxed me, but even then I didn't dare soap my cock. Thinking about Clark had me close to coming, as always. Even the water hitting my skin was almost too much, too close to Clark hitting me.
When I was half dressed, my cell rang.
"Rabb."
"You knew I was there."
Was that bad? There was still only one thing I could say. "Yes, sir."
"And you showed nothing. Very good, Harm."
I could breathe again. He wasn't displeased. "Thank you, sir."
"The Perfect Maharajah. Side door. Fifteen minutes."
He hung up, and I shut off my phone and reached for my shoes. I didn't even know where this place was, but I'd find it and hope that I was there on time.
*****
The cab driver I found knew the Perfect Maharajah and liked the twenty I promised him if we got there in ten minutes, so I was walking down the alley on the left and looking for a side door with a minute to spare.
I found it, turned the knob, and walked inside. It was dark, but then a light came on to show him sitting at a table a few yards in front of me, with another man beside him.
Clark gave me one look, then picked up his glass and drank. When he'd drained it and set it down on the table he spoke without looking at me again. "Strip."
The door was still open. Anyone could walk in. And the man beside Clark was looking at me with eyes that were hot with what he wanted to do to me.
None of that mattered. I swallowed and reached for the bottom of my t-shirt to pull it off, then yanked it over my head and tossed it away. He was looking at me now, and I hoped I was giving him a good enough show. I kicked off my shoes, then shoved down my shorts and boxers and whimpered as the breeze stroked my cock.
"Pretty boy." The other man's voice was as hot as his eyes. "I can get you better, though. Let me make a few calls. I'll deal with him." He lifted himself off his chair and took a step toward me, and I froze. If Clark wanted him to have me, of course I'd do it, do whatever he wanted, but I hoped that he wouldn't.
Clark was smiling, but it wasn't a smile I'd want directed at me. "No. He's mine. Get out. And shut the door behind you."
"Sure thing." The other man took his time getting to the door, but finally he was gone, and I let out my breath.
Clark snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, and I was down on my hands and knees before he spoke again. "That's my good dog. Crawl."
I fixed my eyes on the floor and made myself move my right hand. Cigarette butts, a puddle of beer that smelled stale and made me feel like I was going to throw up, grit on my palms and knees, and my cock harder than it had ever been. I hated doing this, but it was for him, so I did it. He owned me. He knew best. He knew what I needed.
His hands moved to his waist when I was close enough to smell him over the stale beer and cigarette smoke. "That mouth of yours has been busy, boy, but not busy in the right way." He undid his belt, eased out his cock, and rubbed the head over my lips, but when I licked it, he slapped me. "When I say, not when you want. You know better."
I heard myself whimper and tried to stop, but instead of slapping me again, he laughed.
"You want me, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
He pushed the head of his cock against my lips. "You'll get me. Be patient." He laughed again. "We have until the sun comes up. Hours, baby."
Hours. My hard-on already ached, and I was sure that he'd make me wait to come. But I'd be with him, and that was what I wanted.
"Yes, sir."
He patted my head. "Good boy. Suck me now. Slowly. I want this to last."
I opened my mouth and circled the head with my lips, then licked it. The taste of his pre-come filled my mouth soon, and I started to suck. I heard him laugh softly, then his hand rested on my head.
I closed my eyes and sucked. I'd make it last as long as he wanted, until the sun was up. I'd do anything for him.
*****
Clark twisted my nipple, and I whimpered and opened my eyes to see sunlight coming in through the small, high window. I was so sore after all he'd done with me, but if he wanted me, I didn't care. I'd suffer for him.
"Baby, get off your knees, get your clothes on, go back to your room, and get ready to work. And don't mouth off so much. Let the colonel win a few arguments for a change. Fucking with Marines," his face twisted into anger, then was gone, "is not a good idea."
He was smiling now, and I should have been pleased, but he wanted me to leave him. I didn't know if I could. I pushed myself to my feet, tried to lower my eyes and obey, but why? I didn't want to be JAG any more. Why couldn't I go with my master? I was his, not JAG's.
"Baby." His voice was gentle. "Soon you won't have to go away, but for now, you have to make them think you're theirs. I'll find a way to get you out, but you've got to be a good boy."
"Please, Clark." It hurt to speak. He'd used my mouth as much as he'd used my ass. "I don't belong there."
"I know. You belong with me. Just give me some time. We don't want them knowing about us."
No. Oh, no. Never. I shook my head frantically, and Clark bent over to kiss my hair.
"They won't. No one will take you away from me. I promise." He lifted his head and cupped my face in his hands. "Go back and give them what they want. You'll be home in two days, and I'll be there."
He knew everything, and I wanted him to. "Make me pay for being so arrogant, Clark." What I meant was, make me his forever, and he knew that.
"Make you pay." He took one hand off my face and thrust his fingers into my mouth, and I sucked, tasting my come on them. He'd fucked me twice with a dildo and twice with his cock, but he hadn't let me come until the last time, a few minutes ago. "Do you want me to beat you?" He pulled out his fingers slowly, and I didn't answer until my mouth was empty.
"Yes, Clark." I didn't want him to beat me, but I wanted him to own me, and I wanted marks and even more pain to remember him by. Who knows when I'd see him again? And if it would give me more time with him, I'd take the hardest beating with only whimpers.
"No."
I breathed. I'd gone over the line. I'd pay. I didn't know how, but I would. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Not here. When we're home, when I have time to do it right. Then I'll beat you. Only a few more days. I'll be in DC by the time you are. I promise." He took a breath and leaned back against the chair. "Now go. I've got work to do, and so do you."
"Yes, sir."
Only a few more days. I could do that. I kept repeating his words to myself as I picked up my clothes from the floor and dressed, as I made my way up the alley, as I hailed a cab, as I showered and put on my uniform, and as I went through my day. **I promise. When we're home.**
The End
Posted 7/31/02
