Tristan wore a pair of deep black wide legged pants that ended just under the ankles and floated above his black shined combat boots. His black long sleeved shirt with a red tribal dragon design across the front was tucked into his pants. A black tie with a silver clip hung down the center of his shirt which fit to his muscular frame. He sat down on the bench in his hallway and laced his boots until they were tight and snug. Tristan liked when things were tight and properly fitted. It wasn’t just the appearance but the assurance that he desired. He disliked seeing people with belts on only to have their pants sag below their asses. It made him feel the urge to grab their pants and pull them straight up and into their testicles. He had almost done that a time or two but under better judgment decided against it. As he tied the laces and stood up he grabbed the leather cuff that hung on the wall and snapped it on. He ran his fingers of the engraved ‘S’ and ‘D’ in the leather and smirked. Tristan was proud of who he was. He was proud to be a dominant. Most people assumed that being a dominant kinkster simply came naturally. The feeling of dominance was what came naturally. The act of dominating another completely took time and training and practice. Tristan had struggled through many moments of guilt and insecurity. He had trained not just his body but his mind to become the confident dominant master of BDSM that he was. He inspected himself in the full body mirror before he left and locked the door behind him. His two door midsize sedan was a mix of black and red with streaks of silver running up the front. While most men liked flashy and ostentatious vehicles and large ridiculously overdone trucks, Tristan enjoyed a smooth mid-sized vehicle. It allowed him to fit into any space and allowed him to make quick turns in narrow streets. Besides, he had nothing to make up for in the masculine department. He was confident in himself and didn’t need a vehicle to makeup for anything he lacked. He shifted the gear into drive and pulled up to the gate of his complex and waited for it to open before pulling out onto the street. The drive downtown on a weekend morning would be similar to driving down a major highway on Monday morning. To that end, he decided to take side streets. It was ten minutes longer but he was in no rush. He stopped by a drive through barista and waited in line to pick up his coffee. A young blonde haired twenty year old in a bikini served the coffee and took the orders. He pulled up to the window and she popped her head out and smiled a wide bright smile.
“Morning Tristan.” She smiled.
“Good morning Stella. How are you? How are classes?” He asked.
“Busy morning but that’s what you get for a Saturday and I just started my next semester. Six more to go.” She said with exasperation. “Just the usual?” She asked.
“You know it.” He smiled back.
Stella was a cute thin girl working her way through college to be a biologist. She studied during the evenings and worked as a bikini barista during the day. She was a sweet young girl with a hard working attitude and a bright future ahead of her. Stella popped her head back out and smiled. “Eight sixty Tristan.”
He pulled out a twenty and handed it to her. “Keep the change Stella. You deserve it.”
She blushed and her smile widened.
“You spoil me Tristan.” She replied and handed him the coffee.
“Someone needs to.” He said.
Stella blushed even harder and he waved as he drove off and joined the flow of traffic. Stella watched him leave until he was out of sight. Her cheeks still red and her smile still wide.
Tristan pulled into the lot of a three story business complex. No name or label or symbol was displayed on any of the sides. It was the kind of place that if you knew what it was then you didn’t need to see a logo attached. He parked his car in an employee only spot, right between a large SUV and midsize white truck. Both vehicles barely fit the allotted spaces. He got out and manually locked his car and walked in through the doors. On either side of him were security guards in black uniforms. They scanned him head to toe and waved him through. He walked across the open lobby and to the receptionist’s desk where a woman in her early thirties sat in a grey chair with a headset on and her face firmly locked into a set of computer screens.
“Good morning Kelly.” Tristan said in his usual deep but gentle voice.
Kelly’s firm and focused expression softened and her frown turned to a smile. Kelly was a mix of Indian and American with naturally dark skin and dark hair that she kept up in a bun while working.
“Morning Mr. Claymore.” She replied.
He slid the second cup of coffee he had to her and her eyes widened in delight. “Thank you. I really needed this today.” She sipped the hot coffee and moaned with satisfaction.
“White chocolate mocha, right?” He asked.
“You know me so well.” She winked. “Oh, the others are upstairs waiting in conference room D.”
“Thanks Kelly.” He replied and walked up the stairs and across the hall to a large set of doors labeled with a bold ‘D’ on the front. He pushed open the doors and sitting around a large conference table were two men and one woman. All were dressed in deep black suits and had black hair and various shades of auburn eyes. The woman, pale skin and all sleek slender muscles sat poised with a notebook out and open. The two men, while very similar, had slightly different features. The one on the left had a narrow face that looked more like the woman’s and he had longer hair and sloping shoulders. The man on the right had broader shoulders and a square jaw. Tristan closed the door and flipped the lock and took his seat. The projector screen at the head of the room flashed and a man’s face, square and stern and hard appeared. He had bushy eyebrows and dark eyes that met theirs with an intensity that was enough to topple bowling pins instantly.
“Good morning.” He said with a gritty gravelly voice. “I know it’s a weekend but business must go beyond work standards. Nonetheless, thank you for showing up. I’ve been watching this quarter’s numbers and they have improved from last quarter but they are still lower than first quarter. This needs to change.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at the woman. “Shawna...you are responsible for the numbers and accounting department. Start arranging more accounts and see where debts can be filled and rearranged until things balance back out.”
She scribbled notes into her notebook with a black steel pen.
“Morgan. We need more and new angles for attention and marketing without draining the accounts. Find a way.”
Morgan, the broad shouldered man nodded without saying a word.
“Derek. You are responsible for the training and distribution of it. I’ve seen a lack of that. I understand there is much going on but still, focus.”
Derek nodded and sighed without giving away any emotional reflection. The tense man’s face and dark eyes shifted on the screen to Tristan who did not tense or react to the stare. Though it had the most heat of all.
“Tristan. You are the management here. Do not let these things fall out of alignment. It is your responsibility to keep things moving forward. Do not fail me and this company. You understand?”
“Yes...father.” Tristan replied.
“Yes father.” The other three replied.
“Good. Now, onto a lighter subject. How are my grandchildren?”
Shawna pulled out her phone and sent a series of photographs which made a pinging noise on the other side of the projector. Their father pulled out his phone and a smile creased his wrinkled face. For a man in his second century of life, he had few wrinkles.
“So adorable. You will bring them up next weekend, correct?” He asked as he looked at the photos.
“Of course father. Helen and Haley are excited to see you.” Shawna replied, her aura of business vanished like clouds on a windy day.
“And how is Syrine?” Their father asked, turning his attention to Morgan.
“Only one month left father. She is starting to really feel it coming.” He said and glanced down at his arm. “And I’m really feeling her stress of it.”
“Ha!ha! I remember when your mother was on her last week. She would get so irritated that she used to do the same thing. A strong woman your mother. How about Barbara?”
Derek smiled, “she just got the test results and she is pregnant.”
“Wonderful news indeed.” Their father smiled and that smile faded slightly as he looked at Tristan who spoke up before he could say a single thing.
“Sorry father. No news. I’ll keep you updated though on the management. I’ll come visit with Shawna though.”
The stern expression of their father returned. “Tristan. This is a noble family that traces back nearly a millennium. And-“
“Father.” Tristan interrupted his father forcefully. He looked to his siblings who looked slightly nervous and hesitant at being in attendance for the verbal battle that was about to ensue.
“Brothers...Sister...I’ll be checking in tomorrow on your progress. Have solutions ready and numbers crunched.” Tristan said with the tone and edge of a leader and commander.
They got up and inclined their heads to their father on the screen and then to their brother before leaving the room and closing the door. Tristan stood up and straightened his shirt and tie.
“Father. How many children did you have?” Tristan asked.
“Four.” He replied begrudgingly.
“How many grandchildren will you have by the end of next year?”
“Four.” His father replied.
“How many siblings do you have?” Tristan asked, voice calm and steady.
“Three.” He replied.
“When I find my mate, and if...we decide to have children shall I inform you of the arrival of a child.”
“If?” His father asked shocked as if the word hurt him. “If you decide to have children? You surely mean when.”
“No father.” Tristan met his father’s dark eyes and his dark garnet eyes flared to life glowing a bright red. “If we, my mate and I, decide to have children. There is no you in this equation.” Tristan gestured to the empty seats before him. “You have strong armed my siblings into having children and the lineage is secure. You no longer need to worry about the continuation of the family name. But I will not be forced to bear children because my father believes it is the necessary thing to do.”
“How dare you!” His father roared. “I am your superior and your-“
“You are the former owner of a company that you gave to me. Not my brothers. Not my sister...no, you gave it to me.” Tristan snarled. “Now I love you father, you raised us well and you held strong after mother’s death. However, I am one hundred and twenty seven years old. If I choose to have children it will be with the right woman and I will not force her into children to soothe your egotistic desire to recapture parenthood.”
His father’s red face was a mask of fury and rage.
“You ungrateful bas-“
“Not ungrateful at all father. I’m grateful for your handing over of the company and the way you raised us and still look in on us. However, my life and whom I choose to share it with or not, is of little concern to you.”
“You will have children because it is your duty to-“
“Goodbye father.” Tristan said as he hit the power button in the projector screen and the entire room went dark. The darkness was comfort for him. The darkness did not judge him. It did not force him or yell at him. The darkness embraced him for everything he was and it did so in complete silence. Tristan slid back into the chair and dissolved into the darkness.