Daddy

Part 1

Justin stood at the window of the spacious suite overlooking the
bright blue waters of the Caribbean. They were on the top floor, the
penthouse suite of the Atlantis Hotel in Nassau. He looked down at
the specks on the ground and could make out a small crowd of fans
hoping to get a glimpse of their idols, squealing every time there
was even a faint movement in the window.

His attention drifted to his own idol and he felt the nervous
anticipation bubbling in his stomach. He tapped his foot and chewed
his nails until Lance called to him from across the room. "Hey, Jus,
come eat. God knows when we'll get another chance. Interviews,
rehearsal, hot dates."

"Speak for yourself," Justin grumbled. Britney was off on her tour
and even the promise of a palatial suite hadn't convinced her to fly
down. He shook off the thoughts and walked over to the table where
the food was laid out.

He studied the various offerings but he just wasn't hungry. His
belly was flipping too badly to consider putting anything down
there. He started pacing, glancing at the door every few seconds
until Chris stopped him, "Hey man, what is *up*? You act as if we've
never met any one famous before. Jesus, you weren't this nervous
with Michael."

Justin ran his fingers through the new curls. "I don't know, man,
he's like...my hero. You know, a real man's man."

"Ooh," Chris laughed, "methinks Justin has a crush." This was greeted
by loud hoots from the others and Justin blushed a deep red.

"Shut up, you little prick," Justin snarled, hiding his embarrassment
under the anger and then he stomped off into a spare room.

"Don't go far. We are rehearsing with him as soon as he gets here, "
Justin heard as he threw himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

It *wasn't* a crush. He just really admired the man. Actually, they
had a lot in common– southern roots, both singers, adored by their
fans, blond beauties with talent who loved them, family values—
perfect dixie boys. No, it wasn't a crush.

So why had he said that about him being a "man's man"? He started to
follow his train of thought on its winding journey when he heard JC
call to him from the living room, "Ju, come on out. Tim's here."

His legs were shaky and his heart was beating way too fast. He
glanced at himself in the mirror and frowned at the babyish curls.
Damn. He grabbed a cap and pulled it over his hair, not interested
that the room was hot and the hat was wool.

The murmur of separate conversations allowed him to slip into the
group unnoticed at first but then JC saw him and dragged him over to
Tim McGraw. "Shit," Justin thought, "he looks masculine." He
mentally slapped himself. "God, why should I care? We've met before
and I didn't have this feeling in the pit of my stomach." He knew he
would have trouble with speech and prayed that JC's nonstop chatter
would come in handy today.

Tim looked him over, like a prize animal that he had just bought.
Man, he thought, this kid gets hotter by the minute. He hadn't seen
him for awhile.

There was something about Justin, this childlike air that screamed
vulnerability and immaturity. He studied him, wondering where the
vibes were coming from. The waiflike look certainly contributed to
it. Damn if he didn't want to rip that cap off his head, tell him to
stand up straight, and force him to look him in the eye.

Instead, he shook his hand and felt the faint trembling that amused
him for some reason. Chris came over and leaned in. "Justin has a
crush on you but don't let that scare you."

Justin jumped back as if electrified and whipped on Chris, "Shut the
fuck up. I do not." Tim watched the interaction closely, his
amusement fading. If Justin was *his* boy, there'd be none of that
uncontrolled behavior, none of that cursing, especially in front of
his elders.

Chris didn't get upset. He just snorted and strolled off , ignoring
Justin's outburst as always. Tim watched with narrowed eyes,
wondering just how frequently this happened. Justin turned to Tim
and apologized and it sounded like the apology was that Tim was
present, not that he lost his temper.

Someone yelled and everyone moved into positions for rehearsal. They
began singing, a medley of hits that gave everyone a chance to sing
with the country star. Lance blew his part, his voice cracking. He
stopped and wanted to start again but Tim thought it best that they
move on and come back.

He had seen Lance's nerves on this solo. It was so rare that he sang
alone and he had blushed under the scrutiny. So Tim went over Angel
Boy a few times, thinking of Justin as he sang the first verse

            My mother said there's only one way
            Sweet angel boy, narrow and straight
            Time it has past, teachings they fade
            Now her angel boy has gone astray.

He felt Justin's gaze riveted on him and he puffed his chest, willing
the boy's attention. When the song ended, Tim locked eyes with
Justin, unblinking until Justin looked away, unable to maintain the
contact. Justin stared at his feet until they regrouped for the
medley and Justin the lead resurfaced.

Once again Lance's voice cracked and he looked as if he would burst
into tears. Tim started over to give him an encouraging pat, but
before he could, Justin got in Lance's face. "This is why you sing
backup. Get it together, man. I'm tired and I don't want to sing the
same shit a hundred times."

Lance's back went up and he started to snap back . Joey stepped
between them, "Let's take a break. I could use a cold soda and a
snack."

Justin snorted, "A snack. Just what you need." Joey shook his head
and steered Lance toward the door.

"Wait up," JC called, grabbing Chris and dragging him along. They
pointedly did not invite Justin to join them. "We'll be back in
fifteen minutes or so," he said to no one in particular. Tim's
backups looked questioningly at him and when he nodded slightly, they
hurried to catch up to the others.

Tim stood silently for a moment, letting it occur to Justin that they
were alone in the room. Then he said, almost too quietly to
hear, "That behavior is unacceptable."

Justin looked up, startled by the statement, but unable to deny its
truth. He was embarrassed that he had done this in front of Tim, of
all people. Tim continued in a stony voice, "Real men don't
humiliate their friends or take out their irritation on them. Real
men remember that other people are here and that time is valuable for
all of us. You just wasted at least fifteen minutes of everyone's
time with that diva act."

Tim knew he was being hard on Justin. He thought back to his own
youth, so full of piss and vinegar, such a hotshot and needing
everyone to know. Then his "Daddy", their road manager, took him
aside and told him how stupid he was acting. Well, actually, it took
more than words.

It took some serious lessons from his Daddy before he knew what to
do. Lessons he would never forget. Lessons that he wanted to pass
on to Justin. He watched Justin's face change from lead singer in
the biggest boyband in the world to scolded child. Good, that was
the intention.

Justin hadn't said a word but his embarrassment was obvious in the
bright red of his cheeks, the way he scuffed the floor with his toe,
and the darting eyes that wouldn't meet Tim's. Part of him wanted to
go all cocky, be the diva here too. But a bigger part felt stupid,
like a chastised
little boy, and just wanted to make it right, not have Tim think
those awful things about him.

He turned on his best pout, the one that Britney and everyone else
loved, the one that his momma fell for all the time. He added the
puppy-dog eyes and the picture was complete. He was always forgiven
when he looked like this and he knew it. He met Tim's eyes and was
startled into dropping the act.

Tim looked serious and not swayed at all by the sexy young man before
him. "Justin," he began, "we were all like you once. We all acted
like spoiled little boys, our immaturity flashing in neon. I did
just what you did until I met a man who taught me what it takes to be
a real man, to guide me, to be my Daddy."

He stood there while Justin absorbed the unspoken offer, watching the
indecision play across that incredible face. He felt a familiar
tightening in his groin, a tension that had been reserved for Faith
these last years, but God, that boy was beautiful and the thought of
teaching him was doing uncomfortable things to his body.

You would never know it to look at him though. On the outside, he
was still, giving Justin all the time he needed. He watched in
silence as Justin took a deep breath, "Will you teach me?"

"Do you know what you're asking?"

"I want to learn, Tim..." Justin began.

"If we do this, it's Sir in public and Sir or Daddy when we're
alone." It was a statement of power and Justin recoiled. Even his
own father or fathers didn't do that. They were pals, slightly older
versions of himself.

"Justin, these aren't easy lessons. The time we have here is just
enough for a bare start but they will serve you well if you're
willing. I won't force you to do anything but the minute you say no,
I'm finished. Do you understand?" Tim could see that Justin was
trying to take in what he would be agreeing to and the ambivalence
was clear.

"Do you want time to think about it?" Tim asked gently.

Justin struggled with giving up the power to this man, this man that
he admired so, this man that he, dammit he did, have a crush on. And
then he whispered, "No, I want you to be my Daddy." He looked down,
embarrassed at his admission, the words almost lost. "Teach me,
please."

Tim gave no sign that this submission pleased him, just glanced at
his watch and said, "We'll continue later. They'll be back in a few
minutes and I want to get a couple of things straight."

Justin nodded. "Sir in public, Daddy in private, I am in charge. I
want you to learn self-control, self-discipline. Some of the things
may be difficult but you will learn and it will be worthwhile in the
end."

He looked at Justin for confirmation. "Yes..." Justin skipped two
beats, "...Sir." He cringed when he saw the stormy look in Tim's
eyes.

"That behavior warrants discipline, boy." Tim was determined to
teach Justin even though at this moment Justin was looking at him
with worried eyes. "If you want to be Daddy's boy, you need to obey
immediately. You need to forget about yourself."

"Yes, Sir," Justin answered instantly.

"All right. Last thing for now. You are to apologize publicly to
everyone for wasting their time."

"What?" Justin squeaked, the word coming out before he could stop it.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. You heard what I said.
Apologize. And make it sincere. You were wrong. Real men admit
when they're wrong."

"Yes, Sir," Justin answered quietly.

"And take that damned cap off." Tim chuckled to himself as Justin
bristled at the order. Good, he didn't want a wimp. But he sighed
in relief when Justin pulled it off and stuffed it in his pocket,
running his fingers through his curls to make them a little neater.

"Good boy," Tim said.

Thank you, Daddy," Justin responded. Tim was glad the kid was a
quick study. It would help with the other lessons that weren't so
easy to digest.

Just then they heard voices in the atrium, returning from their
Justin break. When the four from NSYNC entered the room, they
glanced warily at Justin, trying to gauge how safe it was before they
took their positions, waiting for the others. Tim's guys came in
laughing and joking about the determined fans and assumed their
places, the professionals ready to start.

Justin hesitated, but he felt Tim's eyes staring at his back,
burning a hole into him. He cleared his throat and began
softly, "Um, guys, I, um, want to apologize for the way I acted
before. I know I wasted everyone's time and I'm sorry." He dropped
his eyes as soon as he was finished the short speech so he missed the
open-mouthed amazement from NSYNC.

The murmurs began from them all then, accepting his apology and just
wanting to move on from the uncomfortable moment. Only Lance and
Chris remained silent, giving each other looks that said
clearly, "What the fuck?" But it was time to go back to work and
Lance had no problems this time.

The rehearsal was grueling and they worked steadily for hours, only
stopping to grab a quick bite from the catered lunch. Justin felt
Tim's eyes on him and looked up, relieved to see a proud smile on the
older man's face. Just before they went back, Tim leaned over and
whispered, "Stay at the end."

It was five before they broke up for the day. Tim suggested that they
all eat together and everyone readily agreed, settling on time and
place before they dragged back to their rooms for a little well-
deserved down time.

Justin lagged behind the others and when they called to him, he said
he had forgotten something and to go on without him. He waited
impatiently while the room cleared, fretting about the time. He had
promised Brit he would call before her concert and it was getting
late.

When the room was empty, Tim came over and stood in front of
Justin.. "I want to be perfectly clear about what is going to
happen. Then if you choose, walk out of here– no harm, no foul.
Understand?"

"Yes, um, Daddy." Tim felt sorry for the boy as he tried to remember
what he was supposed to say. He empathized with the feeling of
powerlessness that Justin needed to acknowledge, the submission to
the older man's will when everything was screaming no. He knew the
lessons were for Justin's own good, that the control he would learn
would be priceless.

He remembered his own coming of age and how painful it was. But the
day his Daddy left and kissed him goodbye had been one of the saddest
days of his life and even now, he missed the older man's discipline
and guidance.

Tim sat on the couch and pointed to a spot in front of him. "Kneel
down, Justin, and don't look up." Justin hesitated only a moment and
then obeyed, glad he didn't have to meet the older man's gaze.

"Listen carefully, boy. Faith is leaving after dinner and I expect
you to follow me around like a pet for the next few days. When I
tell you to do something, I expect no argument. What you tell your
friends is up to you."

"Daddy, may I call Britney? She's expecting a call, " Justin choked
out, humiliated to have to ask permission for this simple act.

"Never disrespect a woman, Justin. I will let you make a five minute
call from here, but tell her that you can't call her again until
you're on the plane going home. If you're a good boy maybe I'll let
you make one more call but don't plan on it."

"But, Tim, I mean Daddy, ..." Justin began, distressed that he would
be cut off from Brit.

"Justin, it's your choice. I'll stay for a few minutes more while
you decide what you want to do. If the answer is still yes, know
that it will get harder and harder as you learn the self-control, the
self-discipline that a real man needs." He sat back, expressionless
while the boy on his knees contemplated his decision.

The minutes dragged by as Justin debated with himself what to do. He
wanted to be with Tim, to learn from his idol, but at the same time
he was frightened by what Tim had just said. As an added bonus,
Justin felt his dick start to harden just contemplating what Tim
might do.

Justin felt scared but at the same time protected. He believed this
man would take care of him, not let him go too far, to get hurt too
badly. Just as Tim began to push himself off the sofa, Justin
whispered, "Yes. Yes, I will. I swear, Daddy, I'll do whatever you
say."

Tim stood and went over, towering over the young man before him. He
leaned down and kissed his cheek, "Good boy. Five minutes. Call
Britney right now, right here."

Justin sighed but simply answered, "Yes, Daddy."

"I will be back in exactly five minutes. I expect you to be right
here, phone turned off and on the floor in front of you."

"Yes, Daddy," Justin answered promptly. The words came out gritty,
like chewing sand on the beach. He hated submitting.

Tim left the room and didn't listen in on the plaintive
conversation. Justin heard himself whining into the phone, sounding
ridiculous as he made some lame excuse about why he would be out of
touch. She threatened to come down there, the jealousy sizzling
through the wires, and he panicked.

"Brit, you know there is no other woman." That at least was the
truth. "It's just that Tim and I have decided to collaborate on a
few pieces and I need to concentrate when we're not busy with the
special. Just check the internet, babe. You know those girls know
where I am every second," he chuckled quietly, trying to distract
her. He hoped it wasn't true. He didn't want to read *this* on the
JJB.

He took a deep breath when she giggled and said, "You're lucky, babe,
that I'm pretty much stuck here. Otherwise, I'd know where your cute
ass was every second, too."

The remaining minutes of their conversation centered on her and then,
painfully aware of the time, he ended the call, whispering his love
into the phone. When the connection died, he turned the phone off
and placed it carefully in front of him, contemplating again why he
was agreeing to this.

Before he got further, Tim strode back in and sat. "Look down, boy,"
he instructed and was pleased with the prompt response.

"Go lie down for a few minutes. We'll come get you for dinner.
Right now, I'm going to find Faith. I'm taking her to the airport
right after we eat and I want you to be waiting in your room for me
when I get back. Oh and call the desk and have your phone turned
off."

"Yes, Daddy."

He saw Tim's hand as he picked up Justin's phone and pocketed it, "If
you're a good boy, maybe I'll give it back later." Justin felt a
flash of anger, but at the same time he longed for this man to touch
him, to reward him with a physical token.

He wanted Tim to ...what? He wasn't sure. But he knew he felt
abandoned as the older man simply turned and walked out the door. He
pushed himself up off his knees, wondering for the hundredth time
today what he was thinking.

In his room, he threw himself on the bed and jerked off, a quick hard
thing that didn't have anything to do with Britney. Instead, Tim was
in his fantasy, rewarding him for his good behavior and as he came,
he blushed at the picture. Before he dozed off, he remembered to
turn off the phone as Tim had demanded and woke with only enough time
for a brief shower. He was pulling on his shirt when there was a
knock. He opened it and turned away, leaving it ajar. Tim entered
and closed it quietly.

"Justin," he said, a sharp tone to his voice that made Justin jump
with alarm. He swung around to meet irritated eyes.

"Yes, Daddy," he said, lowering his gaze.

"You are not wearing *that* to dinner," Tim stated.

Justin swallowed hard. His taste in clothes was something he took
pride in and he felt the resistance. He wasn't sure what Tim
expected him to say so he remained silent. "Come here," Tim ordered.

When Justin was standing in front of him, Tim moved to lift the shirt
off and when Justin didn't help, acting like a two year old, he
stepped back and turned to leave. "No, wait...Daddy," Justin pleaded
and was relieved when Tim returned even though his expression did not
bode well.

"I am losing patience, boy," he said through clenched teeth. "You
either want this or you don't. I am not going to waste my time
playing games. Now take that damned shirt off or else."

The offending shirt was off in seconds and Tim sent him to get a
dressy one from his closet. When he was neat and all tucked in, Tim
nodded his approval. Justin felt himself lean toward the man,
longing for a touch and Tim saw it, but refused to satisfy Justin's
need. Instead, he snapped his fingers indicating that Justin was to
follow him.

They walked back in silence to get Faith and the three joined the
others in a private dining room. When they entered, Justin felt all
of his friends studying the situation, assessing what was going on.
No one asked any unanswerable questions and Tim greeted them warmly
and laughed about finding Justin wandering in the halls.

Lance cocked a suspicious eye at Justin and said, "Hey, man, I called
your room, but they said you had turned it off. What's up with that?"

Justin stammered, "I , uh, I , just needed to sleep for awhile.
Can't I be left alone for a few damned minutes?" He felt Tim's
disapproving look and shuddered, knowing he would hear about this
later. "Sorry, man, guess I just miss Brit. We ok?"

"Sure," Lance said, still curious about what was going on with his
friend.

Dinner was fun, lots of laughs and funny stories shared from all the
tours. Justin was only half paying attention, focusing instead on
the sensations he was experiencing from being so near Tim. He could
smell the cologne, something earthy and musky, and he wanted to bury
his nose in the older man's neck. He watched out of the corner of
his eye as the powerful muscles of Tim's arms rippled as he moved and
he wanted to feel them gather him into an embrace.

He was startled at the feelings and thoughts. He had never been
attracted like this to a man, well, outside the group anyway, and it
disturbed him but somehow felt right. He sighed to himself.
Discipline and self-control. Isn't that what Tim had said?

Somewhere around dessert, Justin lost control and placed his hand on
Tim's leg, enjoying the muscle flexing beneath his touch. Tim showed
no external sign that Justin had done that nor did his demeanor
change as he reached under the table and removed the younger boy's
hand, squeezing it hard as a warning.

Justin fought not to gasp in pain and coughed into his free hand
instead, a move that earned him a pat before Tim's touch disappeared
completely. The rest of the meal, Justin sat nearly silent and
wondered what would happen when Tim came back from the airport.

One by one or in pairs, everyone left. When they invited Justin
along, he had declined, saying he was going to rest up and when they
teased him, he just laughed and said that Britney had spies and he
was going to be better safe than sorry.

At last, it was just the two of them. Faith had gone up to finish
packing and they were there alone. Tim turned to Justin. "That was
bad, boy."

"Sir?" Justin tried to pretend he didn't know what Tim was referring
to but when he looked up, he realized that was not a good idea."Yes,
Sir, I'm sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it. You go up to your room and get on your
knees and wait for me. Don't sit, don't lie down, just kneel. I'll
know if you obeyed me. And think about what you did, the lack of
self-control–in public, no less. I'm happily married and no boy is
going to spoil that. Give me your room key."

"But how will *I* get in, Sir?"

"Figure it out. You're a clever boy." Tim left Justin sitting there,
feeling embarrassed and pissed off and alone. He sighed and stood
up, heading for the front desk, Dre discreetly following. It didn't
take much of the Timberlake smile to get another room key and he went
up, not looking forward to kneeling for at least an hour.

He debated disobeying. He had back problems already and he knew this
wouldn't help. But somehow he knew that Tim *would* be able to tell
and he had agreed to this. So he knelt in the middle of the floor
and wondered what Tim had in mind when he returned.

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