Part 5 The show was amazing.  They were all on, energized by the setting and the smaller crowd.  Justin sang to Tim and when Tim sang back, Justin felt the connection between them.  Justin made sure that Tim knew that he was performing just for him tonight, whispering it backstage. Tim watched the boy from the wings, turned on by the raw sexuality that Justin exuded.  He watched the hips thrust, the swaying in place, the lithe flexibility of his young body.  He met Justin's eyes a few times and knew the sparkle was there for him. Mental pictures dominated Tim's thoughts and he laughed to himself.  Instead of helping Justin mature, he was losing control himself.  He deliberately looked away.  He was satisfied when he was able to keep himself focused on the show and not on his boy. Justin sought him out on a two minute break, asking if he had done something wrong.  When Tim assured him he had not, Justin smiled.  "Focus, Justin.  Control.  Self-discipline." Justin groaned inwardly.  The damned Speedo was torturing him as he danced and he couldn't get the visual of Tim taking it off out of his head. The show was almost over.  He danced harder, sang better, and fantasized about the night ahead. They all ran off, congratulating one another on a great show.  "Par- tay," Joey shouted and the others gave high-fives, looking forward to the release.  Only Justin stood apart, anxious about how he could get away without arousing too much suspicion. Tim stood on the side, the adult, quiet and steady.  Justin would follow his lead.  JC turned to Tim, "Are you coming with us?" "No, I'll pass.  Thanks though.  I need to be wide awake for Faith and the kids tomorrow." There was a clamor of voices begging, but Tim just laughed, "No, boys.  Not tonight." Justin watched in awe as Tim remained calm, simply deflecting the complaints. "I'm not going either," Justin said quietly and watched the rock fall into the pool. "What?  Why?  You?  Party boy?  Why not?" The questions flew, the disbelief evident.  Justin stood there, letting the sound wash over him.  When it subsided, he smiled. "I'm tired.  I'm not going out." Simple, straightforward, mature.  He could feel Tim's approval.  JC and Joey started to protest noisily, but Lance put his hand on Joey's arm. "Let him be.  He can make his own choice." Justin met his eyes and saw suspicion there.  But Lance didn't say any more, just motioned everyone away.  "Have fun, Justin," he whispered as he moved past. Justin stilled.  What did Lance know?  But then he looked at Tim and desire won.  That was another day's problem. Justin sat in his room, tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for them to leave for the club.  He knew Tim wouldn't come until they were alone on the floor. Then he heard the sound of the key card and the door opened with a soft click. Justin was on his knees waiting before Tim crossed the room.  His head was bowed, his breathing erratic, expectation driving his pulse.  Tim stood before him.  "Last lesson?" Justin shivered and nodded.  Tim sat in the chair by the window.  "Crawl over here, Justin." Justin did, swallowing the humiliation, believing that Tim knew best.  When he got there, Tim ordered him upright. The older man reached out and closed Justin's eyes with his hand, feeling the long lashes brush against his palm.  "Stand." Justin struggled to his feet, disoriented by the temporary blindness. "Stay absolutely still, baby," Tim whispered in Justin's ear, his breath tickling, arousing.  Then he moved away and Justin felt the loss.  He listened to the sounds in the room, trying to identify them. Then Tim was back.  He wrapped the tie around Justin's head.  Tim knew that keeping his eyes closed would become too great a task for Justin before the night was over.  Justin maintained control, focused on keeping his breathing even. Tim moved closer, only inches away from Justin, his breath hot against Justin's cheek.  He reached between them and gently pulled on the hem of Justin's shirt.  "Arms," he whispered and Justin lifted his arms over his head.  The shirt slipped off, a silky swish of material against satin skin. Tim eyed the body of this young animal, watched the muscles rippling as they reacted to the briefest touch.  He saw Justin bite his lip and then release, the instruction remembered at the last moment. Tim knelt and removed shoes and socks, running his fingers over the insteps, the soft touch making Justin's toes curl in response before he regained control.  Tim nodded in satisfaction.  Not absolutely still, but damned good. Tim stood.  He hesitated for a few moments, letting Justin's anticipation build.  The air was charged with a sexual electricity that was almost visible.  It shimmered in the space between them. When Tim unbuttoned the jeans, Justin gasped.  Tim slapped him, a stinging reminder to stay in control. Justin froze and remained still as Tim unzipped the jeans and pushed them slowly and carefully down over Justin's narrow hips.  "Step out," Tim ordered, his hand leading Justin away and over to the bed. Justin wanted to scream: What about the Speedo?  Please.  He swallowed hard instead and lay back when Tim pushed on his chest.  "Scoot up and over, boy," Tim directed and grunted approval when Justin had complied to his satisfaction. Silky material brushed over Justin's face and he recoiled.  "Don't you trust me, Justin?" Tim whispered. "Yes, Daddy, I do trust you." "You don't.  Not yet.  But you will.  Try.  Believe that I will not hurt you.  I would never hurt my son." "Yes, Daddy," Justin said, his sweet voice childlike with anxiety. Tim took Justin's wrist and tied the material around it, pulling it up and fastening it to the headboard.  Justin concentrated on controlling his reactions.  He wanted to whimper with both fear and desire, not sure which was stronger.  Tim repeated with the other wrist, satisfied by Justin's total submission. He stood back and admired Justin again.  It was amazing how beautiful this boy was and his helpless state only heightened his appeal.  He felt his own dick hard inside his jeans and knew his own control was going to be sorely tested tonight. Tim moved about the room, getting last minute items ready.  He could see Justin's head cocked, listening intently, trying to guess what was next.  Tim sat next to Justin.  "Are you hard for me, Justin?" "Yes, Daddy," Justin grunted out as Tim's hand momentarily caressed his spandex-covered dick.  Justin strained toward the touch and then forced himself back to stillness. "Lift up, Justin," Tim said.  Justin obeyed and Tim slid a pillow beneath those incredible hips.  Tim could imagine this boy thrusting, just like he did on stage, this time for an audience of one.   "Justin?" "Yes, Sir?"  he answered weakly.  It was taking all of his energy not to come right this moment. "Would you like me to take off that suit?" "Oh, yes, Sir," Justin said, panting with the effort of those few words. Tim smiled and thought,  Control, Justin, control.  You will learn that tonight.  Aloud, he said, "Later.  I have to shower first." The tiniest sound escaped from Justin before he clamped down on it.  Tim let it go, impressed that Justin had made so much progress already.  Tim knew what Justin would be going through now and he prolonged his shower and created noises that would only torture the boy more. Justin lay on the bed, forcing his body into a quiet state.  He could feel his muscles straining, every part of him strung taut.  The sound of the water running heightened his lust as the mental picture of Tim in the shower came and refused to leave. He tried to meditate, to still his mind, but it was hopeless as his body clamored for release.  He tried to remember turn-offs like vomit after a hard night, but his body ignored that ploy as well.  Boring, sad, mean– none of them helped and he was near tears when Tim returned. Tim saw the rigidity, the muscles on his arms and chest sculpted as he tried not to pull against the restraints.  He was going to push harder.  "Now you will suck me off again." He watched the gasp begin, the pain clearly written in the boy's demeanor. Tim hovered over Justin's face.  "Open your mouth, boy," Tim ordered. Justin submitted, taking Tim's cock in. Justin went to work immediately, quick and hard.  "Slow down," Tim directed and laughed at the muffled groan. But Justin obeyed and sucked smoothly, licking the head before going down once again.  Tim stroked his own balls, gripping his dick at the base to help Justin.  Justin moaned once and was stopped with a sharp, "Quiet." He went back with renewed fervor, hoping that his own dick would receive some much needed attention if he finished Tim off quickly. Tim pulled out and moved away.  His own control was being stretched to the breaking point, but he needed to teach this boy a lesson.  From a chair across the room, he spat out the message.  "You greedy boy.  Your job is to give *me* pleasure, not to anticipate your own.  Now, you will wait until I'm ready to let you satisfy me." The whimper was audible and Tim took three strides to the side of the bed.  Justin could feel his presence and tensed.  It was another stinging slap, not bruising but painful, to psyche as well as body.  Justin tried to hold back the tears.  He didn't want to disappoint Tim, but his body was screaming, insisting.  Incapable of  thought, he twisted, tugging at the restraints, wanting nothing more than to touch himself, to come in a mind-blowing orgasm. "Justin, stop." The voice penetrated his frenzy and he *did* stop, stilling into a frozen posture.  The tears flowed now, sure that he had lost everything he had worked for these last few days.  Tim watched him, realizing how close to the edge Justin really was. "Justin," Tim said softly, caressing the boy's cheek, his thumb rubbing away the tears.  "Do you want me to fuck you?" "Oh, yes, Daddy, yes," Justin answered breathlessly. "All right then, baby boy," Tim said and reached for the lube and the condom, getting himself ready to give Justin what he was begging for.  Justin was rigid, fighting with himself to be still, to stop pulling and be the receptacle. "Lift up, boy," Tim said and Justin's obedience was immediate.  In one swift movement, Tim had removed the swim suit.  Justin's erection sprang free, red and throbbing, precum dripping off the tip.  Tim was amazed that Justin was able to remain silent, a slight whoosh his only external sign. Tim knelt on the bed and lifted Justin's legs to his shoulders.  Tim hesitated, needing one reassurance before the final act began.  "You are not a virgin." It was another statement. Justin's brain was beyond processing how Tim knew.  He just did.  Justin said, "No, I'm not a virgin, Daddy." "Good." And he entered Justin, not taking the time to make him ready.  He needed him to know who had the power, who was the Daddy, who was in charge.  Justin gasped in pain as his body struggled to adjust to Tim's cock. Tim waited until he felt Justin relax, then he withdrew and slammed back in.  This time he hit the spot and Justin's writhing body beneath his telegraphed that message clearly.  Justin groaned and was slapped again.  He stopped, pressing his lips together. "Not a sound, boy.  Control.  Self-discipline." He pulled back and re-entered.  The heat coming from Justin testified to his efforts to maintain the desired self-control.  Tim couldn't wait.  No more lesson.  He slammed again and again into this beautiful creature, watching the pleasure on his boy's features, a mirror of his own. And then they were both lost.  Tim, his years rewarding him, came silently, his orgasm tearing through him like a summer storm, sudden and fierce.  Justin came with  the mind-blowing orgasm that he had hoped for.  Waiting days had built it to an incredible peak, something he had never experienced before.  It flowed on and through, a river of sensation so intense he was afraid.  He groaned, out of control, and collapsed onto the bed, Tim on top of him. After several minutes, Justin became aware of his surroundings again.  With Tim pressing down, his arms were stretched painfully, but he loved the feeling of this man inside him.  Tim pulled out and rolled off the bed.  He saw the involuntary movement of Justin's body toward him and smiled. This had been the best, Tim thought, the best of all the boys he had trained and he knew it was not done.  He headed to the bathroom, ignoring the little mewing sound that Justin was making.  He hoped Justin could regain control.  He didn't want to have to keep punishing him. Tim cleaned himself up and then stared into the mirror, laughing at the lust reflected back at him.  He couldn't let Justin know that he had that kind of power.  Tim must always be the one in control. Daddies had to be in charge, to be the strong ones.  He sighed.  Damned hard with this one. He strode back in, glad that Justin couldn't see the half-hard cock he was sporting just thinking about his boy.  He wasn't surprised that Justin's was already back in an erect state.  He remembered those years-- a perpetual state of arousal, a perpetual quest for release. He straddled Justin again.  "Ready to suck me off now, boy?" "Yes, Daddy," Justin said.  And he did.  This time it was great, slow and sensual, a sweet succession of licks and suction that made Tim's head swim.  Damn Justin.  "Faster, boy," he ordered and Justin speeded up, his rhythm smooth.  Tim came again, the pleasure powerful but not the same. Tim got off, the languorous feeling after sex threatening to overtake him before he could finish Justin's lesson.  Justin arched, begging with his body.  "Later, Justin, later," Tim said. Tim grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and fell into the chair, his eyes closing.  "Later," he said drowsily, "later." Justin bit his lip, hoping Tim wasn't watching.  He could hear the sleep in his Daddy's voice and he wanted to shout angry words at him.  He wanted to beg and plead and shame the older man into letting him come, into returning the pleasure he had given Tim. Justin lay still, listening to the sound of Tim's breathing, even with the rhythm of sleep. He wanted to touch himself then. Justin pulled, the silk bonds tearing into the delicate skin of his wrists.  He was panting, sweating with the effort. Nothing worked.  Now he had red, painful welts, no solution at all.  He took deep, centering breaths, moving his mind beyond his body, ignoring its cries.  He paid no attention to the increasing numbness in his limbs as they remained stretched unnaturally. He floated off, a fantasy of love and caring played out on his internal screen.  He felt the warmth that he knew from the distant past, before his father and mother divorced.  It was love.  It made him warm with its fire. He dozed, the discomfort keeping him from falling over the edge into sleep.  He roused easily when he heard Tim move.  He had no idea how long it had been and he didn't care.  It was long enough for his arms to fall asleep and lose feeling. "Justin?" Tim called softly. "Yes, Daddy?" Tim could hear the strain in his voice, not quite able to keep the note of pain out of it. "It's late." "Yes, Daddy." Tim was proud of him.  He knew how much his arms had to be aching and he still had control.  He moved to the bed.  "This, baby boy, is your last reward for this trip." Justin held his breath, unsure of what to expect.  He bit back the gasp when he felt a warm tongue on his dick.  It had been half-hard until that moment.  Now it was alive and throbbing again, the gift of youth. The tongue worked magic and Justin's cock was drawn into that warm, wet place where miracles were wrought.  Tim sucked and licked and brought Justin close before letting him go.  Justin wanted to whimper and didn't and the reward was to be taken in again. Tim brought him closer to the goal each time until the last.  The last was like falling.  And he did, into an abyss of pleasure—a place he hoped would be forever.  Justin pulled against the silk ties, his control fleeing into oblivion. Tim sat back and watched Justin's chest heave as he tried to regain some composure. He smiled proudly, knowing he was responsible for this change.  The change from pouting, spoiled brat into a more mature, controlled young man. Tim reached over and untied the knots, releasing Justin.  He shook his head at the thin red marks Justin had created with his writhing.  Too much to expect that there would be none.  He placed Justin's arms at his sides. Tim stood over him, looking down at this beautiful sight, wondering how long it would take to complete his training.  More to the point, could he let this one go?  He sighed.  He knew it had to happen.  He had to let them all go-- to live their lives as men. Justin trembled.  His wrists hurt, stinging painfully.  "Daddy?" he whined. "What, boy?" "My arms and wrists hurt." "Whose fault is that?" "Mine, Sir.  But...." "Just a minute."  Tim disappeared and came back with a warm cloth for each wrist and some salve that soothed burns.  He applied it gently and admired Justin's valiant attempts to stay still and quiet. "Time to get ready for bed." He was pleased that Justin stood without direction and held out his hand.  He didn't balk at the contact and he let Tim brush his teeth with no childish misbehavior. When they returned, Tim pulled back the covers and Justin slipped under waiting for Tim to kiss him good-night.  He nearly cried out when Tim moved away with no kiss, not even a word.  Thoughts flew through, questions on what he had done to disappoint this man.  And then the bed dipped and Tim was there, under the blankets with him. He wished he could see Tim's face and look into his eyes.  He wanted Tim to see the love that was there.  Tim slid closer, "On your side, little boy." Justin rolled to his side and felt Tim's arm snake around.  He pulled him closer until they were spooned together, and Justin snuggled right in.  "Sleep, Justin.  You deserve it.  You did good, kid." Justin wanted to stay awake to savor the feel of this powerful man against his body, the scratchy beard and warm breath on his neck.  It was impossible.  The emotions and the sensations of the night had drained him and he fell into a dreamless sleep in seconds. Tim was gone when Justin woke up.  He rolled onto his back and felt the loss, the loss that would be complete in a few hours.  He refused to cry, the lessons of the last few days learned.  He waited. The door click startled him and he tensed until he heard Tim's voice.  "Good morning, boy." "Good morning, Daddy," Justin answered.  Tim came over and sat down.  He removed the blindfold and smiled at his boy.  He felt the loss, too, but he would never let Justin know how much. Justin focused on Tim.  "Now what, Daddy?" "Now we go home.  You've learned a lot.  I'm proud of you.  You still have a lot to learn.  That willful streak isn't gone, but you've made a good start." "How will I learn?" Justin heard the whine in his voice and blushed. "When the student is ready, the teacher appears.  Maybe me, maybe someone else." "But I want *you*," Justin said, missing this man already.  Tim looked at him with love. "Remember what I told you.  We can't always have what we want.  We are two performers with two separate lives.  But you never know." He left the thought there and got up.  Justin looked at the clock.  Damn. Dressed and ready at 6AM.  Tim was saying something, "...flight is at 7AM.  Gotta go, Justin." He leaned over and dropped a sweet kiss on Justin's lips before standing and moving to the door.  He was impressed that Justin remained silent and still, just watched him go. "See you at Billboards, boy," Tim said.  He laughed as he saw Justin's face light up.  It wasn't that long to wait– for either of them. The End Menu Feedback