brainofck (brainofck) wrote,
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Jack/Daniel Ficathon: Slavery on a Civilized Planet

In The Jack/Daniel Ficathon, lerah99 requested as follows:

    Requirements: Somehow Jack gets sold as a slave to Daniel. Daniel expects his new purchase to fulfill his duties even after they return home.

    Optional Requests: Top!Daniel Feel free to make it porny.

    Restrictions: No character death, Happy ending


The challenge here, as I see it, is threefold. First, to come up with a plausible way that Daniel might come to purchase Jack while offworld. Second, to come up with a plausible reason why Daniel would demand that they continue master/slave roles after returning home. And finally, to do the whole thing without being completely derivative of every other slave!fic I've ever read.

I like to think I have accomplished the first two goals. Unfortunately, I'm not completely convinced I've managed the third.

*shrugs*

We've got top!Daniel, bottom!Jack, and porn. I'll be derivative if it makes a few people happy.


Title: Slavery on a Civilized Planet
Author: muck_a_luck, posting in brainofck
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jack runs afoul of the law on a visit to a developed world where the penalty for his crime is to be sold as a slave. Daniel buys him so the team can take him home. Porn ensues.
Content/warnings: This could be construed as non-con.
Words: 9,772
Disclaimer: If anybody is planning a script like this for SG-1, I'm certainly not going to claim any rights to it. However, I'd be delighted to work in a co-writing/consulting/first-reader/advisory-type capacity, with my fee to be negotiated at that time. :D
Beta: Thanks so much to green_grrl for her edits and helpful comments.
The Matrix: This one is Independence. The Matrix is located here.
Archive rights: Absolutely none. My journals only. muck_a_luck and brainofck.
Special Thanks: Special thanks to those people who suggested titles for the journal. I decided I liked demilo19's Owner's Manual for the purposes of the story.



They got into more trouble on the stupid, developed worlds. Jack often pretended to hate planets of trees and fields, but it was a city on the other side of the Stargate that he was really starting to dread. He'd take a nice camping trip with a pre-industrial human culture any day.

Now, he sat inside the small cell and waited. It was plexiglass or something like it. Clear walls, but unbreakable. He could see down the row. A fair number of other prisoners languished in cells on either side of his, possibly 20 all together.

Jack had already had plenty of time to assess his surroundings before his teammates had finally arrived. He wasn't worried. He was a guest of the government of this world. He trusted Daniel to spring him. It was a simple misunderstanding. No harm done.

Even now, their hostess, Secretary ó Maoilriain, was greeting Daniel, Teal'c and Carter in the observation area on the other side of the glass.

She was as alien as a human could be while still being human. Well, that wasn't fair, actually. On Earth, she would be considered striking by some, beautiful by others. She had thick, wavy deep red hair, with the buttermilk complexion and delicate freckles to go with it. She was petite. Her eyes were green. Everything an Irish gal fresh of the boat should be. The weirdness was that everybody on this planet looked exactly like her. Male and female. He was sure none of the natives was more than about five and a half feet tall, and those were the really, really tall ones. SG-1 towered around her. Jack had felt like a freak ever since they stepped onto the planet.

"Colonel O'Neill says that he was lured away from our group by one of our own guards," she said without preamble. "He claims they witnessed an elderly woman being attacked, and went to her assistance together. But when they arrived, her attackers turned on him and brought him here under the pretense that he was an alien without the proper escort. According to his description of events, he was processed within the requirements of the law and confined."

"That sounds fairly straightforward," Daniel said calmly. "Col. O'Neill clearly had no intention of violating your laws and was deceived by a representative of your own government. It seems clear that this was a charade to grab an alien for sale. Our government will expect him to be released immediately."

Go, Daniel! Jack thought grimly. Considering that he hadn't been released as soon as he told his story suggested that there was another shoe to drop.

Secretary ó Maoilriain sighed deeply and put on a remorseful expression.

"The guard has disappeared. At this time there is no evidence to prove Colonel O'Neill's version of events. The law is very strict on the treatment of aliens who do not abide by the travel restrictions. I will not be able to get him released quickly based on his own testimony and the fact that the guard is missing. I will have to go through channels within the Ministry of Off World Contact and Alien Relocation. Normally that would only be a minor inconvenience of a week or two at the most, but unfortunately, Colonel O'Neill has been registered as an exotic, and the quarterly exotic auction is tomorrow."

Teal'c took a menacing step forward.

Ah. Teal'c. The advocate of slaves everywhere. Jack watched Secretary ó Maoilriain cringe a step back from the hulking Jaffa.

"That is not acceptable, Madame Secretary," he rumbled, perfectly polite, his voice as soothing as the calm before the gathered storm. "We cannot permit Colonel O'Neill to be punished without due process for a crime you clearly believe he did not commit. Particularly since it is our understanding that once he is sold as a slave on this world, you have no provisions in place for freeing him again, whether or not he is proven guilty."

"Yes," she admitted, "once he is sold tomorrow the sale is final. He will remain a slave for the rest of his life."

Jack watched his 2IC as she made yet another review of the facility. He had seen her making mental notes since she arrived, carefully cataloging any possible weaknesses in the physical structure, watching the movement of guards and visitors along the corridors. She wasn't going to find much, he was certain, and they had relinquished their ordnance as they came through this planet's Stargate Complex anyway. He was pretty sure no great escape was in the cards.

"If that is the case," Daniel replied icily, "then you need to come up with a solution. You are fully aware of Colonel O'Neill's position within our own equivalent of your Ministry. We came here expecting to be respected as the diplomatic representatives of our world, with the privileges and responsibilities that position demands. You have admitted that we have not reneged on our responsibilities. If he should be permanently imprisoned on your planet under these circumstances, you will make a dangerous enemy of Earth's Stargate Command."

Jack thought that was mostly bluff and bluster, all things considered, but Daniel played it well. The woman's creamy skin went several shades paler.

"Please, Dr. Jackson, we fully understand the magnitude of this fiasco, and we have no desire to antagonize you, Colonel O'Neill, or your SGC. There is a way around this, though it is certainly a distasteful strategy. If one of you is willing to stand as a bidder at the auction tomorrow, my department has authorized me to provide unlimited funds to you for the purpose of buying Colonel O'Neill yourself."

As one, the entire team turned to look at him, sitting quietly on his bunk, long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, arms crossed over his chest.

Easy hostility.

He raised an eyebrow at them, keeping his face impassive. Anything Teal'c could do, he could do better.




Daniel, of course, had asked for reading material. Secretary ó Maoilriain (he was having trouble not thinking of her as "Oh Mallomar," as Jack had called her, to Sam's disapproving glare and Daniel's own quickly hidden smile) had provided it in two great box loads. Historical texts; books of helpful tips for the new slave; self-help manuals for the slave owner in emotional crisis; academic treaties from psychologists, jurists, sociologists and physicians; the publications and propaganda of social activists both pro and con; and a complete set of the previous year's Owner's Manual, a popular weekly magazine.

Daniel had picked up a book titled Slavery on a Civilized Planet, because the dust jacket claimed it contained "a clear and concise analysis of the best reasons to buy a slave; a remarkable understanding of the culture of the slave owner; frank discussion of the depth and power of the relationship between owner and property; and best reasons not to enter into this system after all."

He was sitting blearily at their little dining table when Sam and Teal'c emerged from their rooms.

"This is worse than we thought," Daniel said.

"Oh?" said Sam, around a mouthful of pastry. "I thought that we had gotten out of the problem pretty easily. I mean, it'll probably be no fun for the Colonel to go up on the auction block, but we're pretty much guaranteed to be the buyers, and we're even spending somebody else's money. It ought to be good for quite a few giggles around the mountain."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. Daniel would have been sure it was disapproval, except that this was Jack being auctioned and he felt certain Teal'c was laughing on the inside. Or at least snickering.

"There's more to this than just a simple sale," Daniel said. "These people have tried to reconstruct slavery in such a way that it is safe for the slave and respects his dignity."

"Indeed," Teal'c said. Regardless of what he thought of Jack being auctioned off, he was truly glowering now. "I was assured time and again by our hosts yesterday that this was a civilized world and that slaves were well protected and happy. When I explained that I was a former slave who had chosen to free myself, and that my family and people still resided in slavery, one man made an attempt to convince me that were I a slave on this world, I would never have wished for my own freedom."

A heavy silence rested over their table a moment as Teal'c stared into the distance.

"He will not make such an argument to any Jaffa again," Teal'c finally stated. He turned his attention to the selection of items laid out on the table for their morning meal.

"It's possible he's right, though, Teal'c," Daniel said, flinching slightly.

But Teal'c just raised his eyes with polite but skeptical interest.

"When a slave is purchased, both slave and owner receive implants that govern their behavior."

That statement brought Sam up short. She set her second pastry down and took a long drink of fruit juice.

"The Colonel's not going to be happy about that," she said softly. "And I'm not sure I can sign off on it. We can't let aliens put mind-control devices into our SG teams."

"Sam, I don't see what other options we have. I'm hoping that since we are leaving the planet anyway, we can get them to waive the need for the procedure. But I think we have to go through with this no matter what. Refusing would only make it impossible for us to get Jack home. Somebody else would buy him, he'd get the implant anyway. If we buy him, we all go home and let Dr. Frasier worry about getting the things out of us again."

Sam licked her teeth.

"Maybe we should call for backup. Get an extraction team in here."

"It is too late to plan an effective rescue mission, Major Carter. The auction begins in less than two hours."

"So what do these implants do, then?" Sam asked.

"The book wasn't completely clear. They apparently tap into the nervous and endocrine systems. They make the slave more compliant. Once the thing is fully activated, the slave wants to serve, and gets most of his pleasure from service. The implants also make the slave fearful of being without his master. So slaves don't run away. Rather, they become very protective and loyal to their owners."

"Because death is a permanent loss," Teal'c thought aloud.

"Wow," said Sam. "Pretty effective tool for enforcing servitude."

"You stated that you would both receive implants," Teal'c said.

"Yeah. The flip side of the coin. One implant makes the perfect slave, the other makes the perfect master. Allowed forms of discipline are restricted and mild. The implants make the owner want to protect the slave and inspire fondness and love. When you buy a slave and receive an implant, the result is that the owner feels a sort of paternal interest in the slave with a similar interest in the slave's well-being and happiness."

"Well, it can't be that paternal. Most people don't treat their children as slaves or keep them as personal servants for life," Sam protested.

"Yeah," said Daniel, rubbing his tired eyes. "The author describes the implant as also making it 'easier' to take up your role as the master – to accept the adoration of your new possession, to allow yourself to be properly attended, to let your slave take care of you."

"Is that the reason that slaves cannot be freed on this planet, DanielJackson?"

"I think it's likely," Daniel replied. "The implants create a sort of symbiotic relationship between the master and slave. The two people come to depend upon each other, and as the implants are clearly designed to be permanent, so is the relationship. Apparently, slaves almost always die within weeks, if not days, of their masters. They can't live without each other anymore."

"Barbarism, disguised as compassion," Teal'c stated darkly.

"So you are about to become the perfect master, and the Colonel's about to become the perfect slave?" Sam asked. Her smile was grim. "It would be funny. But it's not."




Jack would never admit how close he was to panic all morning as the intended slaves were prepared for auction. They were well-fed at breakfast, and it was only after the fact that Jack realized they'd been given sedatives in their food. Why did he ever eat the local grub?

The guards came into the prisoners' cells all at once, two to a prisoner. Considering it was a slave auction, Jack had great expectations of being stripped and oiled and made to wear a loin cloth... or something. But apparently, exotic alien garb was just as exciting to the bidders. He was cuffed and manacled with his BDUs still on. A disgrace to the uniform, he thought sluggishly. He wished they had come in civvies.

He kept reminding himself that his team would be there, when he went up for sale. They would buy him and take him home and this would just go down in the annals of the SGC as one of SG-1's more embarrassing close calls. Helped to keep them humble, after all the planet saving and what not.

When it was finally his turn, there were gasps and appreciative murmurs all through the hall. He wondered what was so interesting about him. He tried to bring his focus onto the auctioneer's pitch.

Well over six feet tall! Well, that was an exaggeration.

Silver hair and eyes like the darkest walnut wood! Oh, for cryin' out loud, was the guy trying to make walnut wood sound sexy?

A bit older than your average exotic, but with age comes experience... Jack cut the guy what he hoped was a menacing glance. Thanks for the pimp out, guy. No need to give the piranhas ideas.

Daniel started the bidding. Jack was not amused, even in his drugged and mellow state, that Daniel seemed to be bidding cautiously, probably trying to save their hosts a little cash. Still, eventually the whole thing was over and he was safely the property of one Dr. Daniel Jackson, diplomatic representative of the Tauri, honored guest of the Ministry of Whatsit. He let himself be led away docilely. As slave auctions went, he figured it wasn't so bad, actually.

Until they lead him into a surgical facility.

Oh, crap, he thought.

Here were the naked slaves. Recently purchased. He recognized them as the dozen or so who had gone before him up into the auditorium. And they were now undergoing various surgical procedures. Some of which looked distinctly like vasectomies. Even in his drug-mellowed state Jack was sure he didn’t want anybody doing anything that looked like that to any of his naked private parts.

He stumbled back and away from the tables, but the men escorting him caught him easily by the arms and half led, half dragged him to a seat in a surgical bay. The bindings on his arms were removed, and Jack began to fight them as best he could through the haze of the drugs. Orderlies came to help the guards. They managed to get his jacket and shirt off, then he was strapped into the seat facing backwards, his arms wrapped around the reclined back, his face pressed into the upholstery, head and shoulders held in place firmly by strong metal bands.

Leaving his neck exposed.

He could see out of one eye what was going on in the next bay. He felt a cool dampness on his neck, and smelled the astringent. He felt the prick of the needle delivering the local anesthetic. He could see the incision in the back of the other man's neck. Jack shut his eyes tight and waited, trying to breathe normally.

Daniel's voice cutting through the dense hush of the infirmary was the best sound Jack had ever heard. Ever.

"Madame Secretary, you have to understand. There's no need for this procedure. We're taking Colonel O'Neill home immediately. Home, to where slavery is completely illegal. This supposed purchase of the Colonel will be meaningless there. It doesn't make any sense to put in the implants under those circumstances. Just let us take him home now."

"I already explained to you, Dr. Jackson! It would take weeks to get the documents I would need to get around the usual procedures. Without special authorization from the Ministry, no property can leave this building until it has received the appropriate implant, and the new owner must receive the matching one. It's as simple as that. If you refuse the process for yourself, your Colonel will just become the property of the next highest bidder."

Jack felt the strange, now painless pressure of the scalpel as it made the incision.

"Daniel," Jack whimpered pathetically. "What are they doing?" The drugs were making him afraid, unable to control his reactions. He thought maybe he might cry.

"Jack, it's okay," Daniel said softly. He was standing very close now, and kneeling down to where he could look Jack in the eye.

"They are putting an implant in you to help prevent you from trying to escape, and one in me to be sure that I won't try to hurt you or do anything cruel to you."

"Kinder, gentler slavery?" Jack tried to joke, as he felt increased pressure around what must be the area of the incision. He saw Daniel's eyes flicker to the procedure with a slight flinch.

"Yeah, something like that. Though in our case, we're going to have some extra problems. But on the upside, since I bought you, they aren't going to have to sterilize you," Daniel replied cryptically.

The slave Jack could see with his one eye was led away. Daniel was shown to the seat.

"I guess that's an upside on any day," Jack agreed.




Dr. Fraiser brought up her presentation on the overhead and started her brief.

"These are the films of Colonel O'Neill's implant. As you can see," she said, "the device seems to be generating a network of filaments that invade all areas of the Colonel's brain and nervous system. From higher functions like speech and memory," she changed the slide, "to fibers that could affect his breathing, heartbeat, and appetite," another slide change, "right down to his endocrine system, including all kinds of hormones. Whatever this thing is doing, it's got control of, well, everything."

"The materials that SG-1 brought back with them from the Ministry clearly state that these implants make the slave more tractable, and make servitude into a natural function for the person receiving the implant. I'm guessing that as the network develops, Colonel O'Neill's nervous system is going to start receiving stimuli that will make him more attentive to Dr. Jackson's needs and desires, and make him wish to serve Dr. Jackson by anticipating and fulfilling those desires."

"My concern is that the connections to the breathing and heart rate may be the way in which the implant prevents slaves from running away. There is definitely communication between Colonel O'Neill's implant and Dr. Jackson's. I believe that if this communication is interrupted, maybe by distance, the Colonel's implant will begin to attack his basic life support functions."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Daniel interrupted. "That would mean that slaves couldn't be left at home to work. What about the person who buys a slave to be a nanny or a gardener?"

"Alright, so maybe it's triggered by lack of communication over a certain period of time. I don't have a lot to go on, Daniel. But look at your implant."

Another flipped slide.

"You can distinctly see that the network forming in your brain is much less extensive and clearly is not invading any of your lower brain functions." Another slide. "Though we do see a parallel networking to the endocrine system."

"So what's the solution, doctor?" General Hammond asked. Ever goal oriented, George. Jack liked that about him.

"I don't know if there is one, General," she said, scowling at her notes.

"How would you feel about a little scientific exchange, then?" The general proposed. "Those people must have some way to remove these things."




"You wanted to see me?" Jack asked, shutting the door to her office behind him.

Dr. Fraiser set her laptop on the desk and sat down in her chair. She thought for a moment.

"Daniel thinks there's more to the implants that you and he received than just enforcing your position as a slave and tempering his behavior as your master," she began.

"Yeeess?" Jack asked.

"He thinks that the term 'exotic' is just a euphemism for sex slave," she said bluntly. "I think that the implants are designed to make that adjustment easier for the slave, as well."

Jack eyed her narrowly.

"So this whole set up is going to make us hot for each other?"

She shrugged.

"At the very least, I think the system is designed to make the slave more receptive to the master's advances. Possibly it will go so far as to make you crave sexual attention. I have no idea if there is a parallel mechanism in the other implant, as one presumes the person who went out of their way to buy a sex slave wouldn't need any extra assistance. But these implants are designed to create a certain kind of relationship between master and slave. So there might be a system built into the second implant to ensure that the slave's needs would be met and his or her affections would be returned."

"Great," Jack muttered. "I appreciate you keeping this one between us. Exactly how are you going to get these things out of us?"

"As I said in the briefing, I'm not sure I can."

"Yeah, yeah. Filaments, nervous system, brain. I got that the first time. Doc, I can’t spent the rest of my life as Daniel's cabana boy, no matter how much I'm apparently going to love it. I know you're not going to let that happen."

She smiled thinly.

"Daniel and the General are already working to get me the necessary paperwork to go back to the planet as a recognized scientific attaché to the program. And before you say it, don't worry. Nobody from Earth is ever going back there again without full freedom of movement and diplomatic immunity."

"Meanwhile, I'm advising the General that you and Daniel need adjacent VIP suites and a guard in between. Hopefully, that will let your implants remain in close enough contact not to endanger you, while still protecting you from their influences."

"No way," Jack said forcefully. "I am not staying on this base while this thing fucks with my head. Daniel and I don't need armed guards to protect my honor from him."

"Colonel, you haven't been listening to me. I think the implant is going to make you want to have sex with him. And I think it's going to lower all his inhibitions about taking advantage of you. When these things are fully integrated with your bodies, you are not going to be in control any more."

"So how long will it take? Because seriously, doc, I think I would honestly rather spend the weekend in bed with Daniel than spend it on my hands and knees begging some airman to please let me out so I can service my master. I don't care what influence I'm under, there's no way I could function in this facility again after a scene like that."

Jack watched her closely. He realized that he had rendered her completely speechless.

"Okay," she said slowly. "I hadn't really thought about it like that."

She pursed her lips, reaching across to the stack of research materials Daniel had brought back with them, flipping through them looking for something. She pulled out a thin volume sprouting colored post-it flags from three sides. She flipped through it tab by tab until she found the page she was looking for. Jack watched her eyes scan back and forth over the text.

Several pages later she sighed and tossed the book onto the desk.

"Three to ten days for the implants to become fully effective," she stated. "If I were going to be here, I'd send you both off base and check you every twelve hours. Then I could bring you back if I felt either of you were in any danger. But if they can get me the access, I'm going to have to be off world. That means somebody else will have to check in on you."

"I'm sure we'll want to talk to the General a couple of times a day, anyway. Maybe you could arrange it with him? Regular reports every twelve hours. You could ask him to handle it personally to spare our delicate sensibilities about the whole master and slave thing. You don't have to tell him about the hormonal part. If there were something going wrong, he'd figure it out anyway without needing to be warned in advance, right?"




They left the base together. Jack knew he was making Daniel uneasy in the elevator, but he wasn't just angry about what was going to happen over the next few days. He was furious. He was afraid that if he said anything, he would be sniping at Daniel, and it really wasn't Daniel's fault, so he didn't want to say anything at all.

"So where are we headed?" Daniel finally asked, breaking the tense silence between them as they walked out into the garage.

"My place. If I'm going to abjectly humiliate myself, I'd rather do it on my home turf." He flicked the key remote and yanked open the passenger door for Daniel before stalking around to the driver's side. "We'll swing by your apartment on the way."

Daniel had the good sense not to argue. Which was something, as Jack wasn't feeling particularly gracious at the moment.

Getting away from the mountain seemed to help him calm down. He parked and waited for Daniel outside his building, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the car seat. It probably helped knowing that the coming breakdown would be witnessed only by Daniel. It was the kind of thing Daniel was good at, keeping a calm head as people did the most surprising and shocking things. Reserving judgment and trying to understand. When Jack started to lose it, Daniel would take it in stride.

In about ten minutes Daniel reappeared with a large duffle in one hand and a full daypack over his shoulder. His laptop was already stashed in the truck. Jack wondered if the duffle or the pack held the books, and smiled to himself.

When they arrived at his house, he leaned across Daniel and opened the door for him. Daniel eyed him suspiciously, but Jack just grinned. It was amazing how much lighter he felt away from all those eyes at the mountain. He leaped out his own door and grabbed Daniel's two bags from behind the seats.

Ha! The duffle does have the books in it. Jack snorted to himself, leaving Daniel staring after him from the driveway as he marched up to the door.

Jack thumped Daniel's books and backpack down by the TV, out of the way but convenient to the couch.

He turned to Daniel in the doorway.

"It's only 1500. Anything you want to do before dinner?"

"Um. I brought some stuff from work, actually," Daniel said. To Jack it sounded like a confession. Daniel looked sheepish.

"You okay out here, or do you want the desk in the guest room?" Jack asked.

"Here's fine," Daniel agreed hastily. "I won't be in your way, will I?"

"No, no. Just gonna do some laundry. Poke around and see what we've got for dinner."

Daniel looked alarmed.

"You don't have to do that! We can just order something."

"You're just scared of what I would cook." Jack didn't have to pretend to feel insulted.

"Maybe," Daniel said, with a little smile.

Jack huffed and stalked down the hall.

First, he collected the old towels and put out new ones. He started a wash. He collected up his dirty laundry and stripped the old sheets off his bed. Remade the bed and found himself tidying the rest of the room, using one of the dirty pillowcases as a dust rag. He looked at himself in the mirror and growled. He threw the last of the laundry into the hamper and stomped out for another trip the laundry room.

On the way, he threw clean towels over the bar in the hall bathroom. He growled again when he found himself tidying them.

Then he looked in on the guest room to be sure the bed was made. He turned the bedspread down and shook out the sheets, resettling them smoothly, prodding the pillows. When he was sure it was comfortable and fresh for Daniel, he had a fleeting thought that Daniel really should have the bed in his room. Then he gripped himself by the hair and pulled, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him that he couldn't stop doing all these stupid little fluffing and fussing tasks.

Get a grip, O'Neill! Try to stay sane for at least 48 more hours. Doc said three to ten days, and this is just day one.

He finally made it all the way to the laundry room, but he couldn't make himself stomp there. He went into stealth mode and slipped silently past the living area to the laundry machines in the garage.

Because we must not disturb master, he thought to himself with a sneer that came out as a fond smile. He told himself he was being ironic.

On the way back to the kitchen, he took a quick peek at Daniel, who was adorably engrossed in a pile reproductions of various who knew what. Some scrolls or something.

Not adorable. Just his usual geek self.

Attempting to scowl, Jack went to the kitchen.

He wasn't cooking for Daniel. He was cooking to show he could.

Which of course was the reason for the carefully laid places at the dining table and the arrangement of votive candles he floated in the glass bowl of water as a centerpiece.

Everything ready to serve, he made his way out to the living room at 1900 only to find Daniel fast asleep, curled on his side on the couch.

Jack moved to shake his friend by the shoulder to wake him up to eat.

And found he couldn't.

He could always fix another meal for Daniel if this one was no good when he finally awoke.

And what the fuck was that about? If Daniel wanted to sleep through dinner, he could eat it cold.

So Jack knelt by Daniel's side and watched him sleep. Because there was nothing else to do.

Jack thought to himself, I'm losing my mind.

But he was so absorbed by the beauty of his master's sleeping face that he couldn't be bothered by that now.

Daniel, he reminded himself. Daniel's sleeping face.

But it didn't matter in the end, did it?




When Daniel woke up, there was some confusion.

He started a bit seeing Jack kneeling there beside him, but he must have thought Jack had just arrived and that was the reason he woke up. He sat up groggily and wiped the drool from the side of his face.

"What time is it," he asked.

"Eight-ish," Jack replied softly. "Dinner's been ready awhile, but it's probably still warm."

"Great," Daniel said, standing up but still sounding sleepy. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Um. I think we may have a problem, sir," Jack replied tentatively.

A huge, gigantic, monstrous, titanic problem, his brain screamed.

"W-what did you say?" Daniel stammered, staring down at Jack, who was now kneeling at his feet.

"I think we may have a problem, s-s-Daniel." Jack got the name right this time, but it came out as a frightened whisper and he couldn't meet Daniel's eyes.

"You called me 'sir,'" Daniel said, aghast.

"That's part of the problem," Jack ventured a little more strongly. "Also, I couldn't wake you up. You were asleep and I couldn't wake you up. So I just waited for you to wake up on your own."

"Jack," Daniel said, drawing out the one syllable to an expressive six or seven at least. "Exactly how long did you wait for me to wake up?"

"About an hour?" Jack said uncertainly.

"And you were there, all that time, like that? On your knees?"

"Yes, s-s-s-Daniel," Jack replied.

"Jack, stand up right now! This is wrong. And it's kinda freaking me out."

Daniel reached down and offered Jack both his hands, and helped him to his feet, both of them cringing at the creaking of Jack's knees, though Jack tried to cover his own flinch by keeping his eyes properly cast down.

With his eyes lowered, he could see that Daniel might be freaking out, but certain of Daniel's body parts didn't seem to mind.

Daniel realized what he was looking at. He hissed and swore and shoved Jack away from him so hard Jack stumbled a bit on his tired, numb legs and sore knees.

It didn't matter, he was practically salivating now, wishing more than anything he could just go back on his knees in front of Daniel.

That is so sick! I'm not gay. Daniel is not "sir." Daniel is not "master."

Except he was. Jack ground his teeth together and, spell broken for the moment, Jack actually did manage a good stomp over to the dinner table.

Only to realize that there were still candles romantically lighting the chicken breasts in wine cream sauce served with rice pilaf and green beans garnished with bacon.

The smell of the food turned his stomach.

He left it where it was and practically ran for his room.

He did not look into the hall bathroom one last time on the way by to be sure Daniel had everything he needed.




Jack stood in the kitchen.

Daniel had put the plates of food under plastic wrap in the refrigerator. The kitchen was spotless, though there hadn't been much to clean up. Jack had been in some sort of perfect housekeeping zone the night before, where having every dish washed and surface cleaned had seemed as important as figuring out a new toggle or button or sensor on an alien space craft. Still, Jack felt a certain shame that Daniel had stooped to menial labor in his kitchen at all. That was Jack's job.

Like hell! Jack thought. But he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

Jack ate a plate of cold chicken and rice and wondered what he should fix Daniel for breakfast.

He snatched up the phone after the first ring.

"O'Neill," he growled. Quietly.

"Good morning, Colonel."

General Hammond, polite as always. Oh. Their 12-hour check-in. And Jack had missed it.

I really am losing my mind.

"How are you and Dr. Jackson getting along?"

"Honestly, sir, it feels a little bit like I'm going crazy," he murmured softly into the phone. He shouldn't wake Daniel. Daniel wasn't really a morning person.

"So you are feeling the effects of this implant already?"

"I think I'll be lucky to last all the way to day three, sir. The idea that I'll still be fighting eight days from now is just laughable."

"What are your symptoms, Colonel?" The general was concerned.

"I'm completely obsessed with housecleaning. Doing laundry. Worrying about how the towels are folded. Fluffing the sheets on the bed. That kind of thing. And I can't stop worrying about how Daniel is or what he's doing. But I still seem to be able to act independently of those thoughts. Um. Mostly."

"Colonel, what do you mean by 'mostly'?"

"I'd really rather not discuss it, General."

"Colonel, you can discuss what is happening with me over the phone, or you and Dr. Jackson can return to base for observation here."

"Fine," said Jack testily. "Last night when dinner was ready, Daniel had fallen asleep on the sofa. I couldn't decide what to do, because I couldn't figure out if he would rather eat or sleep. So I just sat there and did nothing."

The general chuckled a little on the other end of the line.

"Not funny, sir," Jack snarled.

"No, I'm just relieved. Let me speak to Dr. Jackson."

"He's still asleep," Jack said reflexively.

"Well, let him know I'm on the phone. I want to talk to him now, to be sure he understands and to find out how he is doing."

"I'll have him call you as soon as he wakes up," Jack replied.

"Now, Colonel."

Jack was quiet. He couldn't make his feet leave the kitchen.

"It's happening again, isn't it?" The general asked, as if suddenly realizing.

"Yes," Jack ground out through gritted teeth.

"Colonel, I'm making this an order. Go, wake up Dr. Jackson, and tell him I need to talk to him immediately."

"General," Jack began.

"Enough, Colonel. We both know that Daniel wouldn’t want you to disobey a direct order from me. He wouldn't want you to risk court martial and the end of your career just so he could sleep a few minutes longer."

Jack was moving now, tiptoeing down the hall, stopping outside Daniel's door. He felt a rush of fear as he dared to turn the knob on the guest room door, then flood of affection as he saw his master Daniel, Daniel, Daniel sleeping peacefully in the dim light from the curtained windows.

"Colonel?" came the insistent, tinny voice in his ear. For the moment Jack was lost.

He held the mobile phone out stiff-armed to Daniel and hissed, "Daniel, wake up. General Hammond needs to talk to you."

Daniel jerked awake, mumbling. Then his eyes fell on Jack, standing there nearly shivering with distress, in his bare feet and old sweats and holey t-shirt and he smiled. A soft, fond smile with just a tinge of lust, and suddenly Jack was shivering for a completely different reason.

Daniel sat up and reached for the phone at the same time he patted the bed next to him.

Jack knew this was bad, but it didn't matter. His ma – Daniel had just invited him to sit. Sit so close to him that they were now pressed against each other, shoulder to hip. Close enough that Daniel's hand fell easily onto Jack's thigh, squeezing gently but possessively right above Jack's knee.

I do not want to be possessed, Jack protested.

His dick didn't care. His dick definitely wanted to be possessed.

The new, confusing part of his brain wondered to itself whether Daniel would have preferred Jack to have come into the room naked. Maybe tomorrow he should try that, it thought to itself.

Jack thunked his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, trying to focus not on the delicious heat of Daniel's hand and body, but on the one-sided conversation with General Hammond.

"No, sir. I've hardly noticed anything, but maybe that's the result of my own implant taking effect."

Silence as Daniel listened. Jack felt Daniel's sleep relaxed body go suddenly stiff beside him, and slowly Daniel edged away from him. Daniel jerked his hand away, cradling the arm against his chest as if he'd hurt himself. Jack looked at his mas – Daniel's profile. His cheek and ear were flushed the most beautiful shade of pink.

"Of course," Daniel replied, peeking at Jack from the corner of his eye. "I completely understand. Of course, I will." Pause. "Yes, we'll call in this evening at 1800 sharp."

Jack frowned. Daniel was flustered. What had Hammond said? Jack felt a strangely raw fury swelling in his belly. He took the phone when Daniel offered it back to him. Daniel flinched away immediately, slipping off the other side of the bed and sort of rocking back and forth on his feet, fingers slipping through his hair, unable to pace in the small space.

Jack waited quietly for him to say something.

"I think we need to set some ground rules," Daniel finally managed to say.

"Yes, s-," Jack caught himself before he said sir. Daniel wasn't sir. He tried to hold that thought, but it hurt.

"Rule one can be if you really need to call me 'sir,' do it. We've obviously got bigger problems," Daniel said.

"Okay," said Jack shakily. The new part of his brain felt a wave of relief and happiness, but Jack wished Daniel had insisted on a don't-call-me-sir rule. It might have made it easier for him to resist the need.

"Rule two can be if you call me 'master,' we're going straight back to the mountain."

Daniel tried to say it lightly, but Jack could hear the near-panic.

"I think we can agree on that," Jack said, trying to smile.

"And you have got to get off that bed, Jack, or I can’t be responsible..."

Jack scrambled to obey Daniel's direct order. Now they stood with the bed between them. Jack's heart was racing. He lowered his face to hide the blush.

"Third," Daniel said, taking a deep breath. "Third. You have to take orders from General Hammond, Jack. You know that. Even if you think I wouldn't like the orders. He's your commanding officer."

"That doesn't give him the right to wake up a civilian on his day off," Jack muttered. Insolent! cried his new, other personality in shock. Jack imagined flipping his new persona off.

"Jack," Daniel said. The panic was back.

"Yes, sir," Jack said soothingly. "Of course. General Hammond. Orders. I get it."

"Okay," Daniel said shakily.

"Maybe we should try to stay away from each other today," Daniel suggested.

Jack felt crushed.

"Yes, sir," he said automatically. "I was planning to work in the yard the next time I was home for a couple of days. And I need to go for groceries. You want anything? How about breakfast?"

"I can get my own breakfast," Daniel said in a rush. "Just do whatever you need to do today. We can order out for dinner. My treat."

He was nearly panting. If Jack didn't agree soon, Daniel was probably going to fall to his knees and beg Jack to cooperate.

"Sounds good," Jack said. "I'll go for groceries first. Thanks for putting away the leftovers last night. They're better cold than you would think.” Then he went down the hall to change his clothes.




Groceries done. Lawn mowed.

When Jack came in, covered in sweat and dust and grass trimmings, Daniel wasn't in the living room. Jack grabbed a glass and filled it from the tap. Twice. It was hotter than he had thought it would be on this pleasant day in May. At least all the off world travel kept his skin fairly tan all year. No unpleasant tingle of sunburn tightened his skin.

He made his way deeper into the house. Daniel's door was closed. Jack hit the shower. The water was warm and relaxing. When he was done, Jack felt like he could probably sack out for a nap. He wondered if the implant growing in his head was making him more easily tired than usual. He was still debating the possible nap when he wandered out into the bedroom and found Daniel lying on his back in the middle of the bed, watching him.

Jack froze and stared.

Daniel was watching him. Jack was naked.

Jack was ashamed to be naked. Angry at the intrusion. Delighted at how Daniel was drinking him in, eyes approving. Growing erection showing his approval.

"It's 1800," Daniel said, sitting up and leaning back on his arms. His voice was rough around the edges. "Time to check in."

It was unmistakably an order. It did not include the words, get dressed first. Jack walked over and picked up his cell from the bedside table. He pressed the speed dial and stood there, at the edge of the bed, his quickly stiffening penis level with Daniel's eyes.

"This is O'Neill. Is the General free?"

The switchboard connected him directly through.

"Good to hear from you Colonel. How is it going there?"

"Fine, sir. Daniel and I have mostly stayed out of each other's hair all day."

Daniel's eyes were locked on his. Daniel's hand was reaching out. Daniel's fingers were tangling in Jack's body hair, stroking over his belly and toying in the thatch about his now full erection.

"Good. No more developments to report?"

"Not really, sir. Except that I can't seem to stop calling him 'sir.' But I haven't slipped so far as to start calling him 'master' yet."

Appreciative chuckle from the General.

"Do you want to talk to Daniel?" Jack asked. Daniel's hand was now loosely draped over Jack's cock, caressing with the lightest touch.

"No, if you think everything is fine, then I'll expect your call at 0800 tomorrow, Colonel."

"Thank you, sir. Talk to you then."

He flipped the cell phone off and let it fall from nerveless fingers to the floor. Daniel tightened his grip.

"All I've been able to think about all day," Daniel began, "is how you were kneeling last night. How long did you kneel there? An hour? More?"

"Probably an hour," Jack agreed, not trying to hide the breathlessness in his voice. Daniel squeezed approvingly. Jack bit back a groan.

"I want to see you kneel like this," Daniel said. "All day I've been thinking how wrong it would be, but now, you're naked, you're hard, and I want to see you kneel."

Jack began to go to his knees. Daniel's tight grip on his cock stopped him.

"Not on the floor," Daniel said with mild reproof in his voice. "It's terrible for your knees. On the bed. Right in the middle."

Daniel stood and ripped back the covers in one strong move, baring the bottom sheet. Jack climbed onto the bed and knelt, hands on his thighs, head bowed. Daniel sighed with appreciation.

"God, the things I want to do to you," Daniel murmured, almost to himself.

Jack started when he felt cool fingers touch the back of his neck. They traced gently and softly down his spine, leaving tingling arousal in their wake, making his dick weep. Mapping his body and taking ownership, continuing down over his ass and making their way between his legs from behind to reach his balls with a whisper touch before withdrawing.

Jack heard the susurration of clothes. Knowing Daniel was stripping behind him brought him a strange flush of lust and pride.

His master was going to enjoy him properly.

Jack listened for the balancing internal voice that would tell him that this was definitely not something he wanted. Daniel was not master. And he couldn't find it anywhere. Somehow he knew he should be fighting the loss of that voice, but he couldn't think anything now but that its absence wasn't a loss at all, or if it were, it was worth losing if it gained him his master's naked body to serve.

"Touch yourself," his master ordered in a soft, firm voice. The unexpected command sent a shiver through Jack.

"Mas – Daniel?" he asked in confusion, barely stopping himself from saying the forbidden word.

"I want to see you cum. Do whatever you would usually do. Let me see."

Jack wanted to protest. He wanted to see his master's body. Wanted to touch him and pleasure him.

But if touching himself would make Daniel happy, then that was Jack's duty. Of course, what he usually did to get himself off wasn't really what Daniel wanted. Daniel didn't want him on his back, relaxed into the pillows, legs spread, sweating and thrusting to a rapid rush of completion.

Daniel wanted to see him kneeling. His master wanted to see the act of completion, but he also wanted to see the beauty of the act. Jack wanted more than anything to give his master exactly what he wanted.

He turned to the bedside table, reaching into the drawer and finding the half empty bottle of baby oil he kept there. He set it in easy reach, but began by caressing himself carefully with dry fingers. Running the pads of his fingertips lightly over his erection. Using both hands. Teasing callouses over the vein and the slit and all around the ridge at the base of the head, spreading leaking fluids in streaks. The touches made him tremble. His vision blurred long before his eyes slipped closed. He let one hand down to wrap around his balls and squeezed his cock gently at the same time. He couldn't stop the whimper these actions brought to his throat, and he didn't try.

Daniel's murmur of approval almost brought the whole proceeding to a premature end. He bore down hard on his balls to pull himself back from the edge.

He was reaching for the baby oil when Daniel's hand caught him firmly by the wrist.

"Hands on your knees," Daniel commanded sweetly.

It was a cruel order. Jack took a deep, shuddering breath and complied.

Daniel took the bottle himself and climbed up onto the bed. Jack still hadn't seen him. He willed himself to be still and face front, as his master obviously wanted him to do. Then Daniel was all around him, a long strong arm embracing him from behind. A large warm hand carefully palming his cock.

Then hot slick fingers caressing his ass.

Daniel was liberally applying oil everywhere. Buttocks, thighs, crack, hole.

"I need to see you do this to yourself. But another time."

He gently nudged Jack's shoulders.

"Prostrate yourself. Forehead on the mattress."

Jack bowed forward, now well-oiled cock trapped between his thighs and belly. Daniel carefully tugged at Jack's ankles, spreading him open, ready for the taking.

The posture, the openness, the submission, something, brought back an echo of the other voice. He shouldn't let Daniel do this. He shouldn't present himself to his master for this kind of service. But then Daniel's cock was piercing him, and every nerve ending in his body seemed to overload. Thoughts ceased. His master was possessing him completely, using him as he was meant to be used, and all the world revolved around the perfect feeling of being owned, given over, claimed.

Jack shuddered to orgasm between his own thighs, crying tears of happiness and whispering his master's name over and over as the man behind him stroked into him again and again, hot and thick in Jack's body. Jack never wanted it to end. He was Daniel's. Forever.




Jack could not remember one night ever lasting so long. They made love almost without stopping, fucking dying down to petting and snuggling, rebuilding as kissing and stroking, until they were cumming again. He sucked his master's luscious cock. He lay as still and quiet as possible as his master carefully tasted every inch of his body from head to toe to glans. He tried to protest when his master insisted on riding him, but he held back his own orgasm as long as possible once he saw what the pleasure of anal penetration was for Daniel.

When fucking became snuggling and drifted into sleeping in the time before dawn when the birds started singing, Daniel gave him his first order for the new day.

"The only thing I want to wake me up today is your cock up my ass," he slurred happily into his slave's neck.

Jack whispered, "Yes, master," into Daniel's soft hair, his lips brushing Daniel's ear.




The word worked like a bucket of cold water. Daniel went stiff in his arms, then sat bolt upright in the bed in horror. He stared down at Jack, then shuffled backwards til he was standing by the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around himself.

"Get up. Get washed and get dressed," Daniel ordered in a harsh voice. "We're going back to the mountain."

Jack stared at him. He didn't try to argue. This was Daniel, his face set, grim and determined. His body posture screaming that his mind was already made up. On a good day, Jack probably wouldn't be able to persuade this Daniel to do what he didn't want to do, though he could order him to do it. Sometimes. Maybe. But today Jack wasn't giving the orders. He moved slowly to follow his master's command.

"Sir," he ventured tentatively, "Did I do something wrong? Whatever you want. I can fix it."

"No, Jack. Shower, now. I'm going to use the hall bathroom. I want you at the front door, ready to go, in ten minutes."

Then his angry master strode past him out into the hallway.

Jack realized that he hadn't stepped outside the bedroom since he’d emerged naked from the shower the night before. He wished he would have a chance to spend more nights this way. Showers, with hours and hours of sex with Daniel in between.

And maybe the occasional mission. A mission, and some beer followed by shower and sex.

He wondered if he would be so lucky. He doubted it.




"How are you feeling, Colonel?" asked Dr. Fraiser in her cheerful, no-nonsense bedside voice.

Huh.

"Much better, actually," he said, struggling to sit up from the hospital bed.

And he did feel better. Like himself. He immediately wondered where Daniel was, but found that it wasn't the same compulsion he had been feeling for the past few days. Just his usual concern for his good friend and teammate.

"I think you got 'em," he said to his doctor.

She smiled.

"Yes, I think we did! It turned out to be a remarkably straightforward procedure. We just snipped every fiber off at the implant site and the whole thing seemed to shut down. Apparently, they designed it to be easy to release a slave from the control of the devices in case something went wrong. They just don't want that fact to be too widely known, or the anti-slavery activists would be setting up illegal clinics all around."

"Based on my experience, I doubt they'd get much business," Jack stated. The doctor grimaced with him and patted his arm reassuringly.

"What happened this weekend can fall under our relationship as doctor and patient. Nobody else needs to know about it."

"Except Daniel."

She nodded.

"What about Daniel?"

"What about him?" she asked.

"How did his surgery go?"

She shook her head.

"It didn't. Ironically, the owner's implant is permanent and cannot be removed. Kinder, gentler slavery, remember? His implant has less extensive effects on his essential body functions, and masters buy their slaves knowing the risks. Civilized slavery requires that the master not be able to remove the protocols that protect the slave."

"So Daniel's stuck with a chip in his head forever?"

"I'm afraid so. His implant is much less dangerous than yours was, though. The long-term effects should be minimal. You don't need to worry about Daniel, sir."




Jack spent the week wondering if the doc hadn't missed something. All the compulsions were gone. He felt very much like his old self. Except that he couldn’t seem to stay away from Daniel. He went by his office door a dozen times a day, just to get a look at him. He dropped in a few times, to be nearer to him and exchange a few terse words. He knew it was making Daniel nervous, but seeing Daniel was a need.

He couldn't stop thinking about him. Strong hands, lean thighs, gorgeous ass, clever fingers, hot tongue, delicious, thick cock... The beauty of Daniel seeping into his thoughts and playing through his head and making him hard and damp in the night.

He wanted to blame the implant, because he needed something to blame. He certainly wasn't taking responsibility for this himself.

And he was not taking any responsibility for the fact that he now stood at Daniel's front door, waiting for him to answer the knock.

He heard Daniel's feet in the hall and almost chickened out. But then the door was opening and Daniel stood there, looking entirely too good to Jack.

"Oh," was all Daniel said.

"Can I come in?" Jack asked, not assuming. It had been a long week of Daniel avoiding him, and Jack didn't want to presume anything.

But Daniel stepped out of the way and let him in, closing the door and locking it behind them, then following Jack into the living room and through to the kitchen.

Jack went straight for the glassware, took down two tumblers, and cracked open the bottle he pulled from the brown bag he was carrying. He poured a double for himself, and set the same in front of Daniel, as his friend eyed him warily. With concern. With a deep, drowning, possessive lust held in check by a willpower of tremendous strength.

"To new beginnings," Jack toasted him, then tossed back four fingers in one gulp.

Daniel raised his glass in salute, but didn't drink.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to come here anymore," he said. His voice sounded strained. "Janet did explain to you that they couldn't remove my implant."

"Yup. And apparently they didn't remove mine, either. Just disabled it."

Daniel licked his lips and leaned back against the doorframe, tucking his hands behind his back, as if to keep them out of the way or hold them at bay.

"She explained that my implant still recognizes you as my property, right? I'm liable to do things around you – behave in ways – that I would regret. If you come here alone, there's a pretty good chance I'll embarrass us both. Particularly if I drink that."

He nodded toward the full glass on the counter. His eyes shifted nervously to his guest.

Jack nodded in agreement.

"Yup, I know all that. Dr. Fraiser was very clear that I should probably be ready for any number of strange behaviors from you if we spent time alone together."

Daniel just stared at him.

"So drink up," Jack said impatiently.

"Jack, are you paying attention?"

"Very, very closely, Daniel," Jack said lips quirking up a little. "Sir."

Daniel's eyes widened in surprise.

Jack rounded the kitchen island and brought Daniel his glass in both hands. Raised it to Daniel's lips as he lowered his eyes and smiled.





If you're interested, all my stories, in order, from one page. Also, my fiction recommendations.

Tags: ficathon, stand alones, stargate
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  • The bad old days

    OK, on the one hand, I understand respecting that readers have triggers and people often get distressed over cliffhangers. And yet, I feel like the…

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    OK. Sometimes I disparage Brain. And then I run across something like this as I innocently look at my icanhascheezburger feed.…

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