Things Change // Three

Lance watched Justin singing Gone, wondering how this would turn out,
what he had gotten himself into.  The boy looked so strong, so self-
confident.  Lance knew it for the facade that it was.  That would be
his job, keeping Justin from using his defenses, building up his self-
esteem in real ways, not with the diva nonsense.

Tim watched Justin also.  The poignancy of the song struck him.  It
was so sweet, so full of longing and Tim could hear the real yearning
in every note that Justin sang.  And he felt his own desire.  He had
wanted to see their relationship to the end.  It was not to be.  He
would have to let Justin go to another and it hurt like hell.

Justin sang every word, every note of Gone for Tim.  It was ironic
that this was the song tonight and his sadness made it perfect.  The
audience went wild, the emotion in Justin's voice clear.  No one but
the two of them would ever know it was for his Daddy and not for Brit.

The show ended and Justin begged off again.  It was becoming a habit
for him, but tonight no one gave him a hard time.  Lance looked at
his watch.  It was ten o'clock.  He looked around the party and saw
Tim chatting with his friends.

He lost track of Tim a few minutes later, so Lance didn't see him
slip away.  Tim knocked quietly and smiled at Justin's surprised
look.  "Hey, little boy, we need to talk."

When they were seated next to one another on the bed, Tim took
Justin's hand, rubbing the soft skin beneath his calloused thumb. 
Justin enjoyed the touch, wondering what they had to talk about.

Tim said, "I've been thinking about you and what we started." When
Justin looked up with hope in his eyes, Tim shook his head, "No,
baby, I haven't changed my mind.  I can't." He heard the whimper.

"You have come so far in such a short time.  I'm really proud of
you.  But you know you have a long way to go." Justin nodded, still a
child.  "When I saw that blowup yesterday, I knew you needed someone
to support you, to continue the lessons."

Justin's eyes showed his fear.  "I told you," Tim continued, "my
Daddy was on the road with me. He helped all the time.  I've found
someone but the final decision is yours."

"What if he talks, tells people?" Justin was terrified.

"Still don't trust me?  Don't you know yet that I would never harm
you?  That I only want what's best for you?" Justin swiped at his
tears, wanting to obliterate them.  But Tim's soft voice made it
impossible and they ran down his face.

Tim wiped them with his thumb.  "Poor baby.  Tell me.  Will you trust
me enough to let me choose?"

"Yes, Daddy," Justin whispered.

"Good boy.  He's coming up later to meet you.  He doesn't know the
whole situation yet.  This will be a test.  It will test your trust
in me and my decision.  And it will test him, see if he can handle
this *relationship*." 

"Are you ready, Justin?" Tim asked.

"Yes, Daddy." Tim nodded and reached into his pocket.  He drew out
black silk.  Three lengths.  Justin stared at it.

"This is my gift to you.  Keep them and use them with your new
Daddy.  I'll use them now to turn you over to him." Justin remained
silent, his dick hardening at the sight of the silk.

"Stand up," Tim said.

Tim reached to blindfold Justin but stopped when Justin said, "Daddy?"

"Yes, son?"

"Please let me watch this part."

Tim met the deep blue eyes, filled with desire.  He nodded once and
put the blindfold down.  He began to undress Justin.  He began at his
feet.  Justin watched the process, enjoyed the sensual feel of Tim's
hands caressing his feet, tracing the tattoo on his ankle, memorizing
his body one last time.

Tim stood and unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned the top button. 
Justin stared in fascination at the strong fingers that could brush
so lightly, arousing him so easily.  Tim moved to his shirt, each
button attended to and the material pushed aside carefully.

Justin's skin was singing, every nerve alive and snapping under Tim's
fingertips.  It was different watching, giving his consent to this. 
Giving his body over to this man.  To do with as he pleased.
Justin's breathing deepened, forcing air in and out.

Tim stood behind Justin and slid the shirt off, so slowly it was
torture.  He drew a finger down Justin's spine and saw the muscles
ripple.  No sound.  Good boy.  He reached around Justin's waist and
unzipped the jeans.  The hard cock underneath jumped at the slight
touch and he heard only the slightest gasp as he eased the jeans and
boxers down over his dick.

Tim came around to the front, facing this beautiful boy. *His* self-
control was tested. *His* dick was jumping at the sight of the
washboard fineness of this boy's muscles, the flat stomach and narrow
hips.  Justin knew it but gave no sign.  He knew better than to gloat.

"Lay down, " Tim ordered and Justin did, his arms at his sides as he
had been told to do.  His dick was erect and dripping pre-cum.  Tim
took a long length of silk and wrapped it ever so slowly around
Justin's wrist, letting him watch, seeing him shiver with the
anticipation of being tied to the bed.  The second wrist was
prepared, the black silk stark against the soft, white skin.  Tim
drew the tails across Justin's nipples, satisfied with just the small
grunt that escaped.

He pulled Justin's arms up and tied the slipknots, frowning at the
restless movement from the boy.  "Stop, Justin," he snapped.  Justin
obeyed, controlling himself with difficulty.

One last time, Tim looked into Justin's eyes.  They were a wild
mixture of fear and desire and love.  "It's time, baby boy," he said
and he tied the blindfold in place.  "We wait now."

There were no further touches and Justin was being driven to the
edge.  Who was it?  There were so many people he could have chosen–
so many.  Every time a new person came in to his head, his dick
reacted, another drip sliding down its length.  Finally, he heard the
knock.  He almost shot his load right then.

"Control, Justin," Tim said harshly.  "Nothing.  Not a sound.  Obey. 
Understand?" Justin nodded.
He heard Tim move to the door and he heard whispers, but they were
too soft to recognize the voice.

Tim met Lance's apprehensive look.  He gave one simple
direction, "Silence." Lance nodded and Tim moved aside.  It was a
good thing Tim had told him not to say a word because he wanted to
yell, Holy shit.

He stared at Justin in shock.  He had *never* expected this.  He
guessed he should have.  After all, what was submission about?  Oh my
God, can I do this?  Yes, yes, yes his cock was screaming. Yes, you
*can*.  He moved in a fog toward the bed, following Tim's beckoning
hand.

Justin's head was twisted, trying to hear, to identify.  "Justin, "
Tim said, "he's here.  Do you still agree to this?" Justin snapped
his head once.  Tim indicated that Lance should touch Justin.

Lance hesitated and Tim looked pointedly at the door.  So Lance sat
next to Justin, his denim clad hip feeling the trembling in Justin's
body.  He reached out tentatively and slid one finger down Justin's
cheek.  The sharp intake of breath was cut off as Lance's palm hit
Justin's mouth with a quick smack.  Lance felt the small rush of
power as he realized Justin was obeying *him*.

Justin felt the fear flowing after the correction.  But his dick
liked it.  He held his breath, wanting to impress his new Daddy, then
slowly exhaled as quietly as possible.  When there were no further
touches, Justin stilled, every muscle tense, hoping that this would
draw the new man to him.

Lance licked his lips, studying the palette in front of him. 
Justin's nipples were already erect as Lance pinched first one and
then the other hard, to the point of pain.  Justin arched but
remained silent, the previous lesson learned.

Before his boy could recover, Lance drew circles on Justin's stomach
with the pre-cum that had formed a tiny pool.  It was fascinating to
Lance and he was mesmerized as his fingertips made Justin's muscles
quiver.  He watched Justin's arms strain against the bonds.

Justin was fighting for control.  The touches were unpredictable, so
light and feathery.  He wanted to scream.  He couldn't see Lance's
green eyes take on a lust-filled gleam as this power game was turning
both of them on more and more.

Then suddenly, Lance put his hand on Justin's throat.  He was no
longer gentle.  He pressed his fingers into the delicate skin and
stopped.  He felt rather than saw the flinch as Justin's fear took
over.  He let go just as quickly, startled at his own aggressiveness
and moved to those lips.

It had always been Justin's lips that intrigued Lance, full and
expressive and so impossibly soft. He traced them with his thumb and
forefinger, gasping with pleasure as Justin caught his finger and
drew it into his mouth.  But the greedy sucking shook Lance out of
his erotic daze and he slapped Justin.

It wasn't bruising but it hurt.  Lance saw Justin cringe, trying to
make himself small, invisible.  It hurt Lance to see it.  But Tim's
admonitions rang in his mind.  It was for Justin's training; it
needed to be done. 

It seemed like forever to Justin.  He anticipated, he waited, but it
was never what he expected.  It hurt, it was soft, he felt
humiliated, he felt loved.  Justin's dick was dripping, his self-
control slipping away when Lance grabbed it and began a rhythm, the
pre-cum lubricating the movement.  Justin remained silent, only the
harshness of his breathing giving evidence that he was perilously
close.

Tim had been watching the whole time, impressed with Lance's affinity
for the role.  Up till now, he had been content to be a voyeur to
their sexual dance.  But then he saw Justin respond, begging with his
body as he pulled against the restraints and arched into Lance's
fist.

Tim lifted Lance's wrist and he released Justin's dick.  Both Tim and
Lance knew it was torture for Justin but were impressed to see the
younger boy remain still.  It went back and forth like this several
times.  Lance's own dick enjoyed the power as he placed his hand on
Justin's stomach and felt him tense.

Justin finally lost it and groaned, punished with yet another slap,
this one hard, unforgiving.  Lance knew that Justin's eyes would be
brimming with hurt and shame and he was not sorry that he couldn't
see them.  A single tear slipped down Justin's cheek.

Lance wanted to cuddle him, to apologize, to offer to make everything
okay.  But he knew that this was half of the problem.  Justin's
histrionics were manipulative.  If he was to grow, he had to be
punished for them.  Lance steeled himself to ignore his tears and
pouts.

Tim stood and pointed to the night table.  Lube and condoms were
there.  Lance's mouth made a perfect O.  "Finish him off first," Tim
mouthed.

Justin's head was spinning.  He tried to identify the hand but it was
only a hand.  Whoever it was made no sound, not even heavy
breathing.  He was barely conscious of anything or anyone outside of
the two of them– Daddy and son.  He didn't even hear the click of the
door as Tim opened it and closed it behind him.

Tim couldn't take anymore.  He couldn't watch Justin offer himself
completely to Lance, couldn't see his body shake in a thunderous
climax. Justin was responding to this new man in his life and Tim
wanted to cry at the loss.  It was time for good-bye. He slipped out,
the transfer ended.  He leaned back against the door and did cry
then, losing his precious self-control. No boy had ever gotten this
far under Tim's skin and it would take time to let go of this pain,
to repair the hole that Justin had left.

Inside, Lance stripped.  He watched Justin writhe on the bed,
straining for a touch, to know he was not alone.  Lance admired that
he remained silent.  Part of him wanted to withhold, to push Justin
to the edge, to demand absolute obedience.  But part of him wanted to
reward Justin, to satisfy his needs, to love him.  He knew he had to
be caring.  The harsh side would give the hardening lessons.  His
caring side would provide the lessons that would leave Justin's
sensitivity whole.

He sat down, pleased when Justin twisted against the bonds to turn to
him, ignoring the pain and the welts he was creating.  Lance drew a
finger across Justin's groin, feeling the satin skin, the muscles
jump at the touch.  And this time Lance stroked him to orgasm,
ignoring his own hard-on.

It was quick and hard.  No gentle touch, just a firm grip, nature's
lubrication, and a few hard strokes.  Justin bit his lip and came
nearly silently as his thick white fluid spurted onto his stomach and
all over Lance's hand.  Lance wiped his hand on Justin, leaving the
sticky residue on the younger man's chest.

Justin  was still trying to get his breath back when he felt the bed
dip and then the soft caress on his bare feet.  His toes curled at
the touch and he started to draw his legs up.  He stopped when he was
slapped on the thigh, a stinging reminder to stay quiet.  Strong
hands massaged down his legs, straightening them, spreading them,
pressing them into the bed.

Lance knelt on the bed above Justin, looking down at him.  His cock
was dancing with anticipation, the blood pounding through it as he
stared at this beautiful boy laid out beneath him.  He caught his
reflection in the glass of the painting over the bed.  It was a
stranger, a powerful stranger who surged with a lust he would never
have believed himself capable of.

He needed to come.  He needed to take this boy and make him his.  He
grabbed the lube with trembling fingers and then sucked in his
breath, remembering his role.  He could never let Justin know what
power he had.

He slicked his fingers and entered Justin, one at a time, waiting
only long enough for the muscle to relax.  Justin grimaced with pain
as Lance's fingers fucked him.  This wasn't sweet romantic shit. 
This was grunting, rough sex, raw and dirty.

Then Lance found the spot and Justin arched off the bed, only the
tiniest sound indicating his pleasure.  His dick was erect again.  He
wanted whoever it was to slam into him, to finish it for both of
them.  He wanted to beg and scream for completion but he knew he
would be punished.

Then  Lance pulled away and reared back, preparing his dick, his
breathing harsh in the silence.
Justin wanted to whimper as Lance lifted his legs onto strong
shoulders. He waited, his tongue caught between his teeth, forcing
the sound back.  A feral growl was the only warning as Lance slammed
into him, driving in, exerting power over him.

The harsh breathing might have been familiar if Justin had been able
to think.  Instead, he was lost in a swirl of pain and pleasure that
denied rational thought.  This man was everywhere.  Lance tweaked
Justin's nipples again and watched Justin thrash below him, nowhere
to go, no way to escape the rough touches.  In awe he watched this
beautiful creature twist, pinned to the bed, the black silk taut.  He
felt the control and wanted to roar.

Lance thrust again.  Justin moaned, a yearning sound that turned the
sexual heat up one more notch.  Lance smiled in triumph and drove
into his boy, a savage rhythm leading them both to the edge.  Lance
gripped Justin's cock, lubricated with his own fluid and gave it a
few hard strokes as he continued to pound inside Justin.

Conscious thought was a thing of the past for both of them.  This was
primal sex, two strong young animals seeking release.  It came in a
powerful burst, an orgasm unlike any other either had experienced. 
It was a raging mixture of sensation and sound and emotion that
swirled through them, a wild river seeking an outlet. 

When it was over, Lance collapsed onto Justin, their breathing
mingled in a post-orgasmic sigh.  For moments, they lay there, the
erratic rhythm of their heartbeats slowing until the languorous
feeling after great sex threatened to take over.

Lance pushed up and away and heard the soft sound of loss from
Justin.  He felt it, too, but he needed to finish this for now, to
own Justin.  He was born for this.  He knew it.  He reached down
gently and slipped the blindfold off.

Justin tensed.  He felt the silk slip away and he blinked into the
light.  Lance came into focus and he gasped in shock before he
remembered.  He looked up at the man towering over him and smiled,
the sweet smile of a well-loved child.  "Thank you, Daddy."

The End

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