Daddy 4

Chapter 4

Justin slept the whole two hours. Tim left for awhile and returned
to get him up for the next round of rehearsals. He called his
name. "Justin, come on, time to get up." Justin curled into a ball,
moaning and pulling the blankets more tightly around himself.

Tim felt sorry for him. He knew from experience how exhausting this
was, but one of the attributes he was trying to instill in Justin was
self-discipline. So he walked over to the bed and ripped the
blankets back. Justin jumped. "What the hell?"

"Up, boy," Tim barked and Justin stumbled out of bed. Apologizing for
his reaction, still a little disoriented.

"Do you need to go to the john?" Tim asked. "We need to get moving."

Justin sighed. He did have to pee, but he was fucking tired of Tim
treating him like a little boy. "But you act like a little boy,
Justin," Tim said, a chuckle in his voice. Justin's head whipped
around and his eyes became saucers. This time Tim laughed, a rich
sound that made Justin think sourly that at least his embarrassment
served some useful purpose.

"You forget. I was in your place not that many years ago and there
have been others like you since my own Daddy trained me," Tim
said. "We're not all that different. Now, pee or not?"

"Yes, Sir," Justin conceded and Tim guided his dick once again.

"Dress. We're late." Justin threw on his clothes and looked as if he
had just fallen out of bed. Tim straightened them roughly, shooting
Justin disgusted looks. "Rewards are for good boys, Justin."

"Yes, Sir," he whispered and pulled at his curls to get them in some
semblance of order.

The rehearsal went beautifully, no glitches at all, and they
celebrated with a festive dinner. Lance toasted friends who were
like family and gave Justin a knowing look. Justin tried to control
his reaction but the slight reddening gave him away.

Justin worried that Lance knew what was going on. Lance was
frustrated that he didn't. He watched Justin and Tim constantly, but
Tim never gave any indication that it was more than the friendship
and working relationship that they said it was. Justin, on the other
hand, was acting like a completely different person.

The dinner discussion centered on what they would do tonight, casino
or club. They divided up fairly equally, JC and Joey going to the
club, Chris and Lance heading for the casino. Laura opted for an
early night so all eyes were on Justin. He was frozen, no idea what
to say.

" I'll chill tonight, guys. Maybe I'm coming down with something,"
Justin hedged. Yeah, like a bad case of blue balls, he thought to
himself. He tried to catch Tim's eye but he couldn't. He thought he
saw an almost nonexistent nod when he said he would go to bed early.

"You and Laura not hooking up behind Lancey's back, are you?" laughed
Chris. Laura snorted and cuddled closer to Lance. Justin remained
silent, no smart remark, no angry retort.

Now, Chris was seriously concerned. This was not the Justin he
knew. This subdued young man was a total 180 and Chris wasn't sure
he even liked him. He looked over at Lance and caught his eye. Lance
shrugged but kept an eye on Justin.

The youngest rose and said good night, weariness etched on his
features. Lance chewed his lip, assessing what he was seeing. He
started to follow Justin, to grill him, to shake the truth out of
him, but Laura pulled him back, purring something about what they
could do before he hit the tables. Suddenly, Justin didn't seem so
important.

Justin waited by the elevators, Lonnie watching the baby and scanning
the area for trouble. They slipped into the elevator just before the
inevitable hysteria. Justin leaned back against the wall and closed
his eyes. "Thank God," he said, "I couldn't have handled that
tonight."

"What's up, man?" Lonnie asked, concern in his deep voice.

Justin looked at the man they relied on for their lives and smiled
tiredly, "Nothing, just ....ready to call it a night." They lapsed
into silence and simply said good night at Justin's door.

The room was dark. Justin flipped on the lights, not the least bit
surprised to see Tim waiting. He moved across the room and fell to
his knees in front of him and dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Justin, look at me." The voice was tender and Justin felt his misery
uncoil in his gut. He looked up, his vision blurred by unshed
tears. "Talk to me, little boy."

"Daddy, I ...." Justin stopped, not even sure what he wanted to say.
He was physically a wreck-- his balls hurt, his dick was hard again,
and he was tired from the strain of not giving in and jerking off.
Emotionally, he wanted to cry, beg this man to give him some relief,
but more than that, he wanted approval, praise. He wanted more than
the little pats and nods.

He was working so damned hard and Tim seemed not to notice. It
wasn't fair. On top of that, Chris and Lance did notice. Keeping
them off the trail was another problem. And none of this even
included being on for the show tomorrow night, when all he really
wanted to do was crawl in a hole and stay there.

Fuck control and self-discipline. How would it even help? He sighed
and started again, "Daddy, I ...I'm trying....hard. I'm really
trying hard." There was a hitch in his voice that touched Tim, the
insecure child under the cocky performer. "I just want...I just
want...."

"Tell me," Tim said softly.

"I want you to tell me I'm a good boy, that you're proud of me. Are
you proud of me?" Justin forced out.

Tim watched with loving eyes. "Put your head down, boy," he said,
patting his lap. Justin sat back on his heels and laid his cheek on
the soft, weathered denim, his arms coming up to hug Tim's legs.
Justin sighed, a deep soul-baring breath.

Tim stroked the soft curls, murmuring words of praise, "You *are*
trying hard and I *am* proud of you. This is really hard. I know.
It takes a ton out of you, spiritually, emotionally, and especially
physically."

He felt Justin begin to shake underneath his hand, the tears Justin
swore he wouldn't shed just flowing out. They ran in little streams
down his face, soaking the material of Tim's jeans. Tim was silent,
stroking his boy's head, comforting him with just a touch.

Justin relaxed under the touch and the tears slowed. Tim gently
pushed him upright, until Justin was kneeling in front of him again.
The young man's eyes were on the floor where they belonged. Good, Tim
thought, he didn't mistake kindness for weakness.

"Justin, look at me," Tim said and Justin's eyes came up to meet his
without a second's hesitation. "I know this is hard, but listen to
me. Being a man is hard. There are things we want to do that we
shouldn't even if we can. Those are the things that require control.
Temper, lust, arrogance."

He could tell from Justin's eyes that he knew exactly what Tim was
talking about. "That's what you're learning. It doesn't happen
overnight. It requires effort, sustained effort. You've made a good
start."

Justin smiled, pleased at the acknowledgment. "Get the smile off
your face," Tim snapped, suddenly becoming the stern Daddy once
again. Justin obeyed immediately.

Tim stood. "I want you to sleep. You look like hell and I don't
want any press speculating on what Justin Timberlake has been doing
down here."

"Yes, Daddy," Justin replied. He submitted to their nightly routine
with no resistance, his will crumbling just a bit more under the
relentless pressure. When he crawled into bed, he knew without a
doubt that he would see this through to the end, whatever that
entailed.

"Goodnight, angel boy. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Daddy," Justin replied, oddly pleased that Tim knew he
needed no instruction.

Justin rolled over, amazed to see the light filtering through the
drapes. He had slept soundly, even his dreams cooperating. They had
been pleasant scenes of him with Tim and he awoke with a feeling of
being loved. He lay on his back, waiting for Tim to come, to take
care of him.

The faint click of the lock alerted him and he turned to see Tim come
in, dressed and shaved. In control at 6AM. Tim strode to the
bed, "Come on, boy. Up. We have a few things to take care of before
breakfast."

Justin prayed that one of the things would be his erection, but he
figured that was too much to hope for. He stood and waited, head
down. Tim moved around the room and Justin's curiosity was sparked,
so when Tim snapped his fingers, Justin was quick to look up.

His mouth dropped open when he saw Tim naked. "Shut your mouth,
Justin. Control, self-discipline." Justin mouth clamped shut and he
moved to the bathroom, wondering what Tim being naked meant.

"Shave again, boy. I am going to reward you after the show tonight
and I want you smooth and silky." He handed Justin all the equipment
and sat on the toilet while Justin took care of his face, chest,
stomach and groin. Justin hesitated at shaving his balls.

"What's wrong, Justin?" Tim asked.

"I'm not sure I can do this, Daddy."

"Well, be sure or I'm on a plane tonight."

Justin winced and carefully attempted his task. Tim wanted to laugh,
Justin's terror at possibly nicking himself hysterical. Not to
mention the positions he was able to wrap himself into. Thank God
the kid was as flexible as rubber.

When he was finished, Tim nodded his approval and noted the new
erection he was sporting. Tonight, Justin, Tim thought, tonight. He
patted his leg and Justin lay once again over Tim's legs. This time,
with no bathrobe, Justin could feel Tim's dick poking his stomach and
it turned him on even more.

He was ridiculously pleased that he could have that effect on the
older man. A sharp slap brought his focus back though. "Control,
Justin."

Justin blushed and realized that he had been humping Tim's leg
unconsciously. So he kept his attention on controlling his urges and
Tim made his ass baby-smooth once again. They stepped into the
shower together and Tim took in that amazingly fine body.

He deserved a reward himself. He had been working almost as hard as
Justin. So with the warm water sluicing over their bodies, Tim
pushed on Justin's shoulders till he knelt, still keeping his eyes
down.

"I know you want to, Justin. Go ahead. Suck me off." Justin
greedily took Tim's cock into his mouth, savoring the taste and
texture of his Daddy. He knew what he was doing and Tim had no doubt
that the group's long bus rides had provided quite a bit of
entertainment. Tim grunted as he came, shooting his cum down
Justin's throat, the boy taking it all with no difficulty. When he
was capable of conscious thought, Tim shivered with delight at the
thought of what else Justin might know.

Justin's own erection was left untended once again and his whimper
simply brought a mild slap. He prayed that the day would pass
quickly. He was sure his dick would fall off or explode if he didn't
get release soon.

"Let's go, boy," Tim barked. Justin hurried into the other room,
doubly anxious to obey every instruction. God forbid he wait this
long and then fuck it up somehow. He let Tim squeeze him into the
Speedo again, fighting for control of his expression.

When he was dressed, Tim nodded approvingly. "Be a good boy today,
Justin, and tonight will be your reward."

"Yes, Daddy," Justin said, forcing back the excitement in his voice.

They walked side by side down the hall to where breakfast was laid
out. As they neared the open door, they heard Chris and Lance
talking. Chris snorted, "Who is he and what did Tim do with the real
Justin?"

"Who cares? This new and improved Justin ain't so hard to live
with. None of that diva shit."

"Come on, Lance, don't tell me you don't miss that *mischievous
scamp*," Chris said.

"Listen, *I* was on the receiving end too many times. I'm happy the
little prima donna is among the missing. A long and happy life to
this Justin."

"Well, I miss my friend."

"Whatever. Just let's stay out of it. Leave them alone. We're
going home tomorrow anyhow."

By this time, the two men had stopped and were obviously
eavesdropping. Tim was grinning; Justin was blushing. They both
jumped when Laura came up behind them. "Good morning," she said, a
smile on her face that said she knew exactly what they had been doing.

The three walked in together and helped themselves. When they were
seated, Chris said, "Hope you're all ready for tonight. Get your
beauty sleep, Jus?" Justin blushed and just nodded.

"How was *your* night, Chris?" Chris mocked, imitating Justin's
voice.

"Just fine. Thanks for asking, Justin." Chris continued to tease the
younger boy. When he still didn't get a rise, he dropped his
attempts. He stood to leave. "Schedule, Bass?"

"Last interviews at eleven. Lunch. Sound check at two. Concert at
five. Kick-ass party after."

"Where are they interviewing us?" Justin asked politely and Chris
threw a look at Lance that said, See what I'm talking about.

"Uh, same place," Lance answered. He studied Justin like a specimen
in a museum and then turned his attention to Laura. He missed the
look that passed between Justin and Tim. By the time they were
finished eating, everyone else had left, Tim and Justin alone again.

Tim stood to go. "See you later, boy," he said. Justin looked
stricken. What did that mean? "Get that expression off your face.
You look as if someone died. Entertain yourself."

As if it were an afterthought, he handed Justin's cell to him. "Five
minutes, boy, understand?"

Justin smiled, "Yes, Sir." But he was speaking to Tim's back. He was
amazed at how utterly alone he felt. It was like the time he got
separated from his dad at the amusement park. He was only seven and
he was terrified that his dad was gone for good. There had been lots
of fun things to do, but he was too afraid to do them. Just like now.

He sighed, wondering what *was* happening to him, where the *other*
Justin was disappearing to. Glancing at his watch, he figured Brit
might be up and he dialed. Her sleepy voice on the other end soothed
him, "Hey, Brit, it's me. I only have five minutes, literally. Just
wanted to squeeze in a quick call to tell you I love you."

He wanted to stay on forever, just hearing her voice, but he ended
the conversation when his call timer read 4:55. Tim would be
impressed. He sat there for a few more minutes and then realized
with dismay that hearing her voice hadn't given him a hard-on. The
brief thought about Tim, however, had sent his dick straining once
again against the tight material.

He went back to his room, the only really safe place, and lay on his
bed, thinking about his relationship with Tim. Daddy. Yeah, it was
starting to feel just like that. He was starting to be willing. No,
it was beyond that. He was beginning to, dear God, *enjoy* this.

His erection was beyond uncomfortable, way beyond, and he needed to
derail this train of thought. Boring, Justin, think boring. Boring
questions, boring room, boring ...No, stop thinking about Tim shaving
you. Stop thinking about kneeling in front of Tim. Stop thinking
about tonight.

He paced, he flipped through the channels and he cursed the schedule
that allowed a whole two hours to themselves. He heaved a huge sigh
of relief when the clock finally read 10:45. He headed down and out
to the walkway for the interview. He stopped short when he saw JC
and Tim together, speaking in low voices.

He studied them, heads together, JC's shy smile speaking his
admiration. Justin couldn't see Tim's face, but he could see the
possessive hand on JC's shoulder. Jealousy ran through Justin like
an electric current and his fists clenched.

He started toward them and decided against it. He knew he couldn't
control his feelings right now and he didn't want Tim angry with
him. Dre came up, "You okay, man?"

Justin nodded. Lance appeared then and took in the scene. "What's
the matter, Justin? Tim ditch you for JC?" Justin froze for a moment
before forcing a smile on his face.

"Looks like it," he replied, but the smile didn't reach his voice and
Lance noticed.

"Well, let's go get your man back, Jus," he laughed and dragged
Justin by the arm toward the two.

The conversation stopped when they approached and Tim frowned at
Justin for a second. "Well," he said heartily, "we're in the home
stretch. Tonight we can celebrate." Justin kept his eyes down and no
hint of a smile appeared.

The interviewer, a bubbly little blond, joined them, "Who's first?"

"Me," Justin practically shouted, anxious to get away from Tim. He
felt the disapproval radiating from Tim, but he couldn't stay another
minute. He let the woman lead him away to the wall.

It was same old, same old, and Justin barely needed to concentrate on
his answers. They were memorized long ago. Instead, he watched the
others from the corner of his eye, seething when JC and Tim picked up
where they had left off.

"Stop the cameras." The blond sighed. "Mr. Timberlake, Justin,
could you at least pretend you're into this?"

Justin saw Tim's head snap up and Justin straightened, apologizing
sincerely, "I'm so sorry. Let's do it again. I'm here now. I
swear." The famous smile finished the job of winning her back and
this time it went smoothly.

When Lance took his place, Justin started to walk away, unable to
tolerate the sight of JC and Tim still so chummy. "Justin, can I
talk to you a minute?" Tim asked, excusing himself from JC. Justin
walked back, avoiding Tim's eyes.

They moved to a more secluded spot and Tim faced Justin. "What's
wrong, boy?"

"Nothing," Justin lied. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge his
feelings, afraid of Tim's anger or scorn.

"If you say so. But let me tell you, your face says different.
Change it," Tim said sharply and turned on his heel. He rejoined JC
and smiled, picking up where they left off. Justin watched, feeling
a tightness in his chest as his heart twisted. He was the little boy
left behind and he wanted to run to Tim, beg for his attention.

Instead, he stalked off and took a walk with Dre, signing autographs
and distracting himself for the moment. Lunch was painful. Everyone
noticed Justin snapping at JC, stinging jabs that left JC bewildered.

"Are we still having a sex crisis, baby?" Chris snorted. "I told you
about that hand thing."

Justin seethed, but remained seated until Lance said, "You've had Tim
to yourself almost the whole time. Share like a big boy."

The room erupted in laughter, which died abruptly when Justin
said, "Fuck you." They stared in astonishment as he stormed out of
the room and turned to Tim for an explanation. He just shrugged and
laughed. "Nerves?"

Lunch finished, they split up, free until sound check. Tim went to
Justin's room and waited. Justin had stomped around backstage, free
of the teenies, muttering under his breath. Lonnie sat and observed
silently for the thirty minutes it took for Justin to expel his
demons.

Justin came to a halt in front of Lonnie. "Sorry, man, I just
needed..." Lonnie interrupted him, a reassuring squeeze his only
response. He nodded when Justin said he was going up to lie down.

Justin was surprised to see the drapes drawn. Then he noticed Tim in
the shadows and went over to him. He dropped to his knees, a now
familiar routine, and waited for Tim to speak. The anger was
palpable and Justin tensed for the attack.

"What the hell happened back there?" Justin shuddered, not sure what
to say. "Answer me," Tim snapped.

"I...um...I....got jealous....when I saw ...you and ....JC," Justin
managed to get out.

"Say more, Justin," Tim said, but his tone had softened a little.

"I saw you two laughing and talking. I've been trying so hard..."

"....That you think I should only speak to you." Tim finished. It
sounded so immature and idiotic hearing Tim say it, that Justin
blushed. He stayed silent. "Well? Is that what you think?"

"No. It's just...well, maybe. Yes. I *do* want you all to myself.
I want to be with you all the time."

"That isn't possible, baby. You must know that."

"I guess," Justin said miserably, "but you and JC looked so happy and
I felt so left out."

"Justin," Tim said softly, tilting Justin's chin until he was looking
into Tim's eyes. "You're my boy. No matter whether we're together
or not, you're still my boy."

Justin eyes filled, but he fought to keep the tears back. Tim pulled
him down and once again, held the insecure child who needed to grow
up. When he felt Justin relax, he patted him. "Time to be a man,
Justin. Let's go. After the show, I'll teach you your final lesson
for now."

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