Enigma 2: The Trinity // Chapter Four // Justin noticed how beautiful Chris and Lance were together. How strikingly different but sensual. He examine them in the cab as they touched leisurely, stroking each other’s flesh languidly. Unselfishly with very candid touches. Pulse points he realized. The neck. The wrist. The inner thigh. He fidgeted in his seat as the cab rolled on, and when it pulled up in front of a warehouse, anticipation flooded his head. Dizziness encompassed him when the cab door swung open--when he stared into slanted green eyes that nodded at him. Lance stood there, no longer identifiable by the comforting southern smile that curled over him during the day.  Now he was a night crawler, licking his dark lips skillfully, withdrawing a pair of glasses from his pocket. Only his weren’t sunglasses. His were clear framed. And the contrast was mind-blowing. “You coming?” Lance asked gruffly, scanning the area as Chris had taught him. Sniffing into the air for signs of trouble. Justin nodded and stepped out with Chris on his heels. A light fog crawled over the glistening streets, and Justin stood motionless while Lance connected his collar. Sharp edges of trepidation nicked at him--but he didn't object. Chris grazed his hand over his ass, and Justin jumped--but still refused to back down. “Last chance,” Chris whispered into his ear. “One final moment to save your childhood.” Justin frowned when Lance laughed--unsure if they were trying to help or shock. But when Lance’s hand cupped him between the legs, and when those big jade eyes captured him from behind those clear lenses, it was clear what they wanted. They wanted him to join. To keep his balls in tact and march in there on a leash. To submit and learn. To find this freedom of persona they had found. So Justin kept his jaw steady and swallowed thickly. “I’m fucking ready,” he said. “Take me in.” Lance winked, dropping his hand away from Justin’s body. “Good boy,” he said. “Let’s go.” ***************** It was like nothing Justin had ever seen. A long, black hallway where moans met his ears. Where darkness shrouded his view. Where soft hands caressed his body. Like fans. He stopped and felt Chris crash into him. “I can’t,” he whispered, feeling the tug at his leash. “I’m scared. These hands.” “It’s not like them,” Chris whispered back, stroking the back of his neck tenderly. “It’s not like when you got attacked. I love you, Justin. You’re my best friend. I’m not about to send you into a psychological hell.” The words spread warmth inside of Justin and he shook the fear away. Lance turned in the shadows and brushed his cheek. “We won’t allow any evil to get you.” Justin nodded and Lance pulled the leash gently, guiding him the rest of the way. “I’ll ask you once more,” Chris said when they came to the long curtain. “If you need out Justin. Now is the time.” He took his sunglasses off. Concerned brown eyes searched the younger blue ones thoroughly. “Because this is the last you’ll see of the Chris you know.” There was seriousness and a true love settled deep within Chris--a love that Justin accepted daily. A love he accepted now. “I’m fine,” Justin replied, nodding slightly. “Okay,” Chris said, slipping his shades back on. A snap of his fingers, and Lance fell in behind him, jerking on Justin’s leash without question. Thumping and freaky music slammed into Justin as they entered through the satin fabric into a large space. No dividers or rooms. Only people grinding and drinking--performing sensual acts with each other. Justin’s eyes focused on all the sights. The smells and sounds. While his pulse was racing, and his nerves were jumping, there was a sense of unity in the room of strangers. And a sense of protection from Chris. Safety was no longer an issue in his mind. Still, the sights were an overload of almost epic proportions. He watched as people flocked to Chris, touching his arm, his shoulder, his back. Pressing a beer into his hands. Silently he waited with Lance as Chris swept away toward the bar. It was very odd to see the attention Chris got. The way his coat sailed behind him like a cape. The way his black nails stroked over people in a vague reply for attention. It turned him on and he leaned back to feel for Lance. To make sure that Lance was still there. He desired hands on him. Longed to be touched because it had been a very torturous day. And he was young. Suddenly, Justin observed a blonde woman fall to her knees in supplication, with her hands drifting to Chris’ hips. Justin was intrigued to see her face twist up with request. His elbow nudged Lance and Lance smiled. “What’s going on?” he mouthed. Lance wrapped his arm around Justin’s neck and leaned close. “Chris is this enigma. People wait for him to come to these parties. They beg to service him. To have a chance at being considered. She’s asking without words to blow him.” “Holy fuck,” Justin gasped. He never imagined. Couldn’t comprehend--Chris. N Sync’s Chris. Leader of their pack. A sexual enigma to so many. “Exactly,” Lance rumbled. “Now you see why I had to find him out. Why I had to follow him and see what this was.” He turned and touched Justin’s lips with his finger, tracing along his lower lip. “Why I wanted you to see.” Justin nodded and his eyes fluttered closed as he relished Lance’s touch against his skin. It tickled but sent heat straight to his groin, furthering the sweet ache that plagued him all day long. “Lance?” “What’s that?” “I hurt.” Lance pulled away and lifted Justin’s wrist to his lips. He nipped the flesh gently before licking along the pulse point. For a full minute, he pressed the flat of his tongue against it, staring directly into Justin’s eyes. Sending calming ripples toward him. Justin felt his body relax--his dick still hard--but his nerves no longer so frayed. “Thank you,” he whimpered when Lance dropped his hand. “Chris taught me that,” he whispered. “To savor the moment. Serenity without letting go of energy.” It was mumbo jumbo in Justin’s ears. Words that swam around helplessly in his mind. He was certain he would understand at some point, but he just wanted to relish the moment--the very definite feeling of Lance’s body pressed against his. “She was rejected,” Lance said softly, cupping Justin’s chin to twist his face toward Chris. “He said no.” “Why?” Justin asked. “Doesn’t everyone want their dick sucked?” He regretted saying it as soon as he did, but Lance just shook his head. “He’s waiting for you, Justin. It’s more than just getting off. It’s about touching and pleasing, yes. But it transcends to a higher level for Chris. He fought me coming in because it made him look at his two worlds colliding. That’s scary. Now you’re coming in. He wants you to feel safe.” “He does?” Justin asked, seeing Chris through new eyes. Realizing he didn’t understand or appreciate the mystery within him at all. “That’s the only way he would allow me to bring you in,” Lance hummed, stepping behind Justin. His hands fell around Justin’s waist and pressed against his stomach. “The only way.” His nose buried in Justin’s neck and he nibbled at the flesh piercingly. ********************* Eyes fell upon their embrace, dark eyes that watched as exquisiteness met his world. Chris waved the female away and strode over. He moved in front of Justin, observing Lance’s lips devouring the flesh near the base of his neck. There wasn’t a reason to question any further so he grabbed the silver loop that was attached to the collar and pulled on it, dragging Justin’s face upright. With one quick motion, he captured Justin’s mouth with his own, and trailed his free hand down Justin’s shoulder. Lance was there, right there, so he ran his fingers around the back of Lance’s neck, clutching him closer. The rules were--there were no rules, and Chris was willing to let it stay in the open. Where Justin would face it all. He could sense people staring, watching this beautiful leashed creature that he held before him. Where Lance fit quite nicely, Justin was an oddity--almost too pretty to be there. The blonde woman approached, and Chris paused, stepping back. He cupped Justin's chin in the palm of his hand. He stared into blue eyes carefully rimmed with black--a face he knew--yet didn’t. “He’s very pretty,” the blonde woman said, brushing against Chris expectantly. “May I touch him?” Chris ripped his gaze from Justin’s shocked face, ignoring the fear that he saw pressing there. Lance’s face raised from Justin’s neck, also inquisitive. A request that proposed a new set of limits. “You may,” Chris said, standing down. He signaled to Lance and relinquished the leash into delicate hands. Lust bubbled excitedly within his gut as he watched vigilantly. Lance positioned himself quietly behind Chris--and surveyed the scene over his shoulder. ***************** It was surreal as the blonde ran her talon nails over his cheek, over the tender flesh of his face. Dropping down his neck, he winced and trembled a bit. Justin’s eyes tumbled upon Chris and Lance, engaged in some ritualistic dance of sadism he didn’t recognize. The woman’s touch chilled him and when she brushed her hands under his tee shirt to graze his nipples, he almost passed out. Everyone was staring, and Justin squirmed under the scrutiny. He was excited and scared--his belly torn to shredded knots, lurching with both desire over the expression on Lance and Chris’ face, and detest over the stranger touching him so intimately. She descended, her and the long nails that sprung from the tips of her fingers, scraping over his waist to the erection he so desperately had been sporting most of the day. Her hand stroked and rubbed, and he ached to pull back. Misery clouded the blue of his eyes as he begged Chris to help. To make this woman stop touching him. Justin’s throat constricted when he saw Chris holding his ground, and he wished he could see the eyes so meticulously hidden behind dark glasses. But he could see Lance--the desire flooding and swimming around. And when Lance wrapped his arms around Chris’ chest, Justin wanted. When Lance slid his hands under Chris’ shirt and rubbed over Chris’ nipples, Justin hurt. The woman refused to leave him, dropping to her knees. Pressing her mouth against his black denim, he bit back a frustrated cry. He wanted her to go, to leave him be. Such a fierce twinge blinded him that he rocked into her reluctantly. She unzipped and exposed him, for all to see. It wasn’t so much the humiliation as the sheer irony of the situation that beat him--the fact he wanted Chris, or Lance. When her lips encased him, he jerked back and she tugged roughly on his leash. It was suffering the likes of which he’d never felt. Such amazing pleasure curling inside him from a source he wanted to shove away. Body and mind battling as he searched Chris for compassion. To make this stranger stop sucking the energy from him. The day had been too long. His resistance too low. Chris smiled at him, a wicked, evil grin that made Justin cry inside. Weep for the unknown. “Enough,” Chris said finally, and Justin sighed with relief as the girl backed off. She wiped the back of her mouth and stood, leaving Justin as he was. A pat on her head, and Chris moved forward stealthily, Lance in tow. The leash dangled in front of Justin and he grabbed Lance’s hand, threading it between Lance’s fingers. “Take him down the hall.” Lance grinned and motioned with his head, leading Justin down the blackened corridor. ***************** The room was recognizable to Lance as they stepped inside. Memories of that first night with Chris crept inside his veins and he tingled with eagerness. “Center of the room,” he commanded, and Justin moved bit by bit. Lance was well aware of the difference between them, the way Chris considered Justin the submissive while he was considered an aggressor. It was a balance that Chris enjoyed teetering on. Something he was making no bones about. Lance could see Justin in the flickering candlelight, conscious of the fact Chris had prepared. He circled  unhurriedly, gazing into the throng of candid emotions that shadowed across Justin’s face. It was an instant feeling of understanding--he could feel the apprehension that Justin felt. The thrill mingled with the fear. Lance stopped and moved forward, impatient to touch. His hand dropped to caress Justin’s revealed erection. He slid his palm over the hot flesh and leaned in to lap Justin’s lower lip. “Lance.” Justin’s low moan of despair caught Lance intensely and caused his stomach to roll lustfully. He crashed his mouth onto Justin's, sweeping inside possessively--roughly. His leg slid between Justin’s, and he fondled Justin’s cock methodically, pulling the flesh taut with each stroke. Deriving and feeding off the whimpers that flowed in a continuous stream from Justin's mouth. If Lance looked really closely, he could see glistening tears trembling on Justin’s lashes. A breakdown--a push perhaps to that place he now knew so well. “Justin, don’t.” Lance continued to touch Justin, tug at him with a demanding hand. Unable to control the satisfaction that bubbled inside of him. The way Justin bit at his lower lip, and batted his thick black eyelashes which were damp, smearing at the kohl under his eyes. A tear dribbled, a tear of pure want. An inability to hold back anymore. He could see the emotional exhaustion, and when Chris pushed the door open, he saw relief flood Justin’s face. “Take his pants down,” Chris clipped, slithering around to the front of Justin. “And let’s get this party going.” [ onward ]  [ menu ]