Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2000 19:27:20 BST From: Jack Rowan <jack_rowan@hotmail.com> Subject: The Story of Tim - part 10 THE STORY OF TIM - part 10 This story includes descriptions of sexual relations between an adult man and a teenage boy, including bondage and SM. If the law in your jurisdiction says that you're too young to be reading this, then I suggest very strongly that you should obey the law. People who are likely to be offended by the subject matter are respectfully advised not to read it. Please note: This is fiction. In real life, sexual relationships between adults and teenagers cannot be condoned. For other notes, please see the start of part 1. Comments will be very gratefully received by Jack_Rowan@hotmail.com ====================================================================== 55 Reconsiderations ------------------- Later, we sat down to eat. Outside it was dark, the crickets were out. The doors to the patio stood open; the day's heat was just relaxing into the cool night. He was wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, with his belt underneath. He was famished, as usual. "It really was weird, though," he said. "To start with my dick was trying to get hard, and it really hurt. Then it sort of gave up, and this different feeling started right inside me, and it got stronger and stronger, and when I came, it was this kind of high, sharp feeling, and I didn't spurt in the usual way, it was in time with you. I suppose that's how it must be for Max." "So you see, I could just keep you in the belt all the time, and not let you come in the usual way at all. You'd live, wouldn't you?" He looked at me strangely. "I could do it, you know. It - it would make me into a very different kind of person, but I could." "We'll try it for a while one day. I know - we'll do it for Lent. Give up ordinary coming for Lent. Next year. Forty days! How about that?" "Wow. Oh wow." "I love twisting you, changing your feelings, really wrenching them. It's delicious to think that I can do just whatever I want to you. Just whatever I want." "If you go on like that, I shall come. Honestly. That is the hottest thing. Being completely at your mercy." We stared at each other, completely understanding. "That was the first time I gave you pain," I said. "Well, I suppose it was Paul, really." "No, he didn't really hurt me. It was you. I was surprised, actually. I wasn't sure - I was beginning to think you wouldn't do that." "I didn't know how you'd take it. Pain - it's okay to think about it, but the reality can be a bit different, can't it?" "Yes. No - I'm not sure. I guess so. It hurt more than I expected. But it wasn't too much. It was okay, it was the thought that you were doing it. It hurt, but it really turned me on at the same time." "Darling boy. That's exactly what's meant to happen. The intensity adds to the turning on. But I'm glad, because now we're going to do a lot of pain. A lot." He stared at me. "Wow." A favourite word. "I'm going to take you on a trip through hell." Another of those corny lines he likes. "Wow. You're frightening me." "It's what we do. Paul - you've seen him at work. You won't believe how much he made me suffer. There've been days when I screamed so much I was hoarse. That'll happen to you. Probably tomorrow." For a moment he was quiet. I had really frightened him. "You'll whip me?" This was his fear. It came up again and again. I let him writhe for a few moments. "Not to start with. Other things first. Tim, why are you so frightened of the whip? Did HE..." "You know he did." "Tell me about it." "I'd rather not. It - spoils the evening. Please." "Who was he?" "Let's not talk about him. Please." "Okay, Tim. But I shall want to know." He's been given due warning now. I saw he recognised it. He looked at me, and I saw his eyes were wet. 'A terrible time, but glorious.' that's what Paul had called what I was going to do. I met his look, letting kindness and love into my eyes. He smiled. "David, who were they, those people?" "Not really sure. I've heard of them, slightly. They - they're people like us. Men and women, serious Masters and Mistresses. They sort things out, things in our world which aren't right. Abuse of kids is one of them. People who don't work with consent. People who go to far. People who kill." "David, that's dreadful. I'd no idea there were..." "Things like that happen. Anyhow, that's what they do, try to stop that." "So, they're quite powerful and dangerous, then?" I put down my knife and fork. "Tim. When we went out there and kissed, I wanted them to see that. I wanted them to see us with the sun round us, and think, that is the finest slave in the world. And when you lay at my feet, I thought, there has never been a Master more lucky than me. I was so proud when Paul explained to me what you did, how clever and brave and subtle you'd been. To think that I'm the Master of such a slave is just so wonderful. You need never, ever pretend to me that you're stupider than you are, or less subtle than you are, or that you understand less than you do. You are the best, and I never want you to be less than that. And when you pretend to be, you are insulting my slave, and insulting me." "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought..." "I know what you thought, or what you worried about. But you needn't. Because the fact that you're brilliant and cunning and subtle just makes me prouder and prouder of you. That's all." "Oh David..." He was weeping now. "No-one's ever thought of me like that. Except Mira, a bit, I suppose. Everyone else has always hated me for being bright. Even the teachers. One said to me, 'The trouble with you, Hamley, is you're too clever for your own good. You're a cunning, sneaky little poof.'" "Fuck him. Stupid, trivial little bigot. None of that matters, because I'm your Master now. And your lover. I'll always look after you, and protect you. I made an oath, remember?" "Thank you," he whispered. 56 How it works --------------- "So, let me ask the question, because I want to know what YOU think. Because I don't know, and I think really you can tell me. Your Master, Tim, wants to use your intelligence. Just how powerful and dangerous were they, those two, do you think?" He smiled at me. "They were both people who were used to using power. They were both used to telling people to do things, and having them do them, you could feel it. Look at Peter. He has thousands and thousands of people working for him, doesn't he, and you can just see that none of them ever say 'no' to him, he just can't bear that. Also he has no sense of humour, no feeling of what's important and what isn't. Anthony's different. He's powerful because people have come to trust him, and follow him, and he's subtle and cunning. Like me. I understand him, and he understands me. And we both know we understand each other. I understand Peter, but he hasn't a clue about me, he thinks he's never met anyone like me before, he's frightened of me, although he doesn't know it, and that makes him annoyed. "So they're both very powerful people in their ways. And are they dangerous? Well, I should think they could both be, if it was needed. I'm sure Peter has sacked people and ruined their lives and had them sent to jail and all that. Anyone who went against him would get it in the neck, really hard. As for Anthony, I'm sure, I don't know why but I'm just sure, that he has had people killed before now. He is so ruthless it's quite scarey. I have never met anyone as ruthless as him." "But - won't they just go away and decide it might be safer just to get rid of us in some way?" "No, they won't. Anthony won't. Because really we aren't that important. If he attacks us, we could maybe do him some real damage, but if he doesn't, there'll be no problem, because I told him so and he believes me. So why bother? He never does anything that isn't necessary. He isn't offended by what we do and say. Being offended is a silly feeling, he's only interested in the plusses and minuses. Also we might be useful in the future, and he really does see what he's doing as a crusade, I think it's the only thing he really cares about. Also he's amused by me, he thinks it's cute how clever I am, and I'm so pretty, it tickles his fancy to have such a creature in his posse, kind of thing. Also he fancies you." "What?!" "Oh yes. Didn't you notice? But Peter is straight, of course. I suppose he's into cute fluffy slave girls. Anyhow, he doesn't much like gay people, which is one of the reasons he was so down on us. He just thinks it's disgusting, me being with you, it really makes him feel sick. But because he prides himself on being fair, he had to admit it was okay, anyhow. And when you apologised about Martin, he felt he'd won an important point, although it doesn't matter at all, really. No, he's no danger. Anyhow, Anthony got him under his thumb long ago, and he'll do what he's told, because he knows from experience that Anthony's usually right, and he hasn't a clue what Anthony's really like. So I think we're quite safe. They'll snoop around for a while, just to check we don't do anything silly, and that will be that." "Anything silly?" "Try to stir up trouble of some sort. But my advice is we shouldn't. If we did, they'd risk any problems and just crush us. And why should we? After all, what they're trying to do is a good idea. I think we should be in favour of Anthony's crusade. I just wish they weren't so clodhopping and stupid about it. Peter's fault, I expect." I stared at him in utter amazement. "And you just worked all this out? You worked all this out at the time?" "Sure." He smiled, a little smugly, I thought. "Your slave is pretty clever, Master. That's what you wanted, isn't it?" "Yes, it is. And you're right. We will keep our noses clean and stay out of trouble. And I think you're also right about what they're doing. I've heard stories. They've stopped a lot of truly frightful people and saved a lot of others. The least we can do is not cause problems." "Okay." I paused. "Let me ask you another question. You're so clever it just astonishes me. You saw right through those two powerful and dangerous people and organised things so that we got what we wanted. So what am I for? Is there anything left for me to do?" I looked at him wrily. "You mean you don't know?" "Let's just say I'm not sure." "That's what Master Paul said to me. 'Your Master doesn't see what he has done. You'd better tell him, and quick.'" "Well?" "But don't you see? I couldn't do anything without you. I'd be nothing. You're far stronger than me, and better, and kinder, you know what's right and what's wrong. Without you, I'd just fall to pieces. Or I might turn into a nasty vicious evil punk like Damon. You saved me. Master, I need you, I'll always need you. I'm not like Andrew or you, I'll always need someone to control me, someone to submit to. And someone to protect me, because without you I'd be in trouble all the time. And god sent me you, really I think it was god, because otherwise I don't know what would have happened to me." I thought of one or two things, and I wondered if he mightn't be right. It was a strange kind of destiny, not something I'd expected. But it suited me, like a glove suits a hand. And anyhow, I had no choice. I loved him. And I had sworn. 57 Getting ready ---------------- "Let's get an early night. Tomorrow will be hard." He smiled and kissed me. I put him in my bed, but left the belt on, and clamped his wrists in front of him, and his ankles. Then I curled round him, my dick between his legs. "This is so nice," he said. "I feel so safe. Why didn't I meet you before?" "You met my brother." "Tony. He was the first person who was ever nice to me." And that sentence lifted one terrible dread, at least, from me. I kissed his ear. "You didn't think..? Oh no, David, he could never have done that. He was really nice. I couldn't believe it, really, I think I was pretty nasty to him. Oh, why did all that stuff have to happen to me?" "I can't tell you that, Tim. No-one ever knows that sort of thing. But - maybe - without it you would never have learnt so many things." "I hadn't thought of that." "The kindly powers can be very hard Masters." He said nothing else, and we drifted off to sleep. When I woke up, he was still asleep, curled on his side, with a tiny smile on his face. I thought of what I had planned for him, scarcely more than a child, and for a moment I was terrified. But this wasn't the moment for that. I must be strong and very determined. I went for a run; the weather had finally broken, and a cold and gusty wind was blowing patches of rain across the meadow. As I rounded the wood, I felt the strength move into me again. I prayed. I had my shower and went to wake him. He looked at me a moment, confused, and then smiled. "So, this is the big day, is it?" Oh yes, I thought, this is when we'll find out what you're made of, beautiful child. I uncatched his wrists and ankles. "Yup. Up you get. Have a shower. No clothes. Off you go." I went through to the kitchen and made a large breakfast. Then he was through, and sat to eat, just in his belt. "Make a good breakfast, Tim. You'll need it." "What are you going to do?" "Cheeky. Wait and see." "I'm frightened. Honestly, David, I'm really frightened. You're really scaring me." "Good. Just eat up, okay?" He obeyed. It was strange and subdued meal in a grey and rainy light. I took him into the bathroom and removed his belt, clamping his wrists behind him. Then I laid him across my knees and gave him an enema. "This isn't too bad," he said, as the water moved into him. He snuggled against me and I hugged him, stroking his hair. He was already hard, his dick against my knee. The water flowed, and I felt the cramps as he whined his pain. I gave him a lot, far more than the other day. When it was over, I stood him up, his belly outrageously swelling. "This is called a butt-plug," I said, as I held it before him, lubing it. "It goes into you, and because of the shape it stays. You can't get rid of it." "Oh, wow." "Look at me." I reached behind him, and slowly pushed it into him. He winced as the large part passed his sphincter, then relaxed. "Feels quite nice." "Just wait." I stood him aginst the wall and left him. Ten minutes later I could see he'd had enough. He was grey and shivering, his eyes imploring. I led him to the toilet and pulled it out, and he groaned as he discharged the water, on and on. I dried him, and did it again. By the time I'd finished, he was exhausted, tottering on his feet. I led him to the sofa and clamped his ankles, then covered him with a blanket, and kissed him. I searched through my videos and found the hardest I had. Whippings, cuttings and piercings and blood. It was horrible. God knows why I had it. I put it on, turned up the sound. "Enjoy," I said. I went to sort out the basement. Everything had to be right for this. I cleaned, tidying everything. I took my toys downstairs and put them in their positions. I was ready. On the video, they were preparing for a branding. Tim was staring at it in horror. "Oh god, you won't do that to me, will you?" "Might." Actually, I've always been a fan of branding. But it's a big thing, a once-and-for-all thing, something you build up to. And I prefer soft lights, elegant bindings, rather than the grotesque gothic torture chamber they were using, glowing braziers and dripping walls. My way sets the terror in context. On the screen, strange things were happening to the accompaniment of very actorly screams. It was absurd. But Tim was taking it. I let the moment linger. "Perhaps not till you've left school. It might turn some heads in the showers." He stared at me with an unreadable expression. I stopped the video. "Stand up." He stood, the blanket falling to the floor. I uncatched his ankles and wrists. "Now. It's time. So I want a special consent, Tim. Will you come downstairs and learn about pain? You only have to say no, and we'll stop for now. I won't be angry." He looked me in amazement. "You're so careful, aren't you?" "Just at the moment." "The answer's yes. The answer's always yes, David. Still yes." I took him in my arms and kissed him firmly, and he melted against me. "Come on, then." I opened the door and led him, naked and hard, down the stairs. 58 Overture ----------- The door to the dungeon is heavy, wooden, with studs. Over it I've put a sign: Abandon hope. Another bit of corn. But corn works. I opened the door and with an ironic gesture invited him in. "Present." "Yes, sir." He took the position, and I could see him looking round, his eyes shining. I like my dungeon. Dungeons like Paul's with all those sconces, bare stone and so on leave me cold. They're so phoney. Mine is papered with light blue paper, flecked with grey, and the ceiling is white. Okay, so the floor covering is waterproof and goes up the walls a foot, but it's deep blue, and soft underfoot. There's a huge Chinese print of a tiger, its teeth slightly showing, and on another wall a nighttime landscape, the hills spreading far away under the moon. As a contrast, there's a version of _Blood and Pain_ by someone I once brought there, and who I suspect was not entirely sane. The lighting is from several standard lamps; I can move them around or turn them off one by one as I like. The pillars which hold up the house are painted white, and the chains which hang everywhere are chrome, shiny. The other thing is, it's quite big. I don't like pokey, cluttered dungeons. Mine is a good thirty feet long. The equipment is well spaced out. At one end there's the tiled area, with a toilet and shower. And there's the cell. But there are also a table and chairs, a fridge. A bed. One man I'd taken there said the blue wallpaper was 'vomit making' with the shackles and whips hanging on it. The place had fascist undertones, he said. Can't see it myself. Another said that it 'reeked of petty-bourgeois drawing-room decadance'. I'd taken that as a compliment. That was just what I was aiming at. I liked taking them to the utter extreme in such a place. It offended them. I led Tim across. "Now. This is a rack. Do you know what that is? Tell me." "You lie on it, and then - it stretches you." His eyes were glowing. As I thought, this was close to his fantasies. Okay, something nice to start with. Painful, but nice. "That's right. This one has electric motors. I can turn it by hand, or control it with these buttons. It's cute. Okay, up you get." He climbed onto it and stretched out. He was as hard as he could be. He stretched out his arms and legs to be bound, and I felt faint. I didn't use his wrist and ankle bands. I have special fixtures which pull more evenly. "Now. Let me just tighten it a bit." I twirled the handles, took up the slack. His arms and legs straightened. I turned again, and he groaned. "Just a start. You know, I tried this once with a side of beef. Using the motors. They pulled it clean in half." One more click. He would be feeling it now, just the suspicion of pain in the shoulders and the muscles of the arms. One more click. His dick was jerking, dripping precum. "Sir..." "Hush." I licked his nipples, his armpits, and then lower, his navel, and he moaned. "Sir! Sir, I -" "Do not come. You don't have permission." I let him feel the tension for a couple of minutes, as I got a box from a cupboard. Clips. Clips of all sizes and stengths, but I wouldn't need the nastier ones this time. I selected one, and held it for Tim to see. "What is it?" "Let me show you." Carefully, I let it clamp onto to left nipple. The pain it causes is small, but intense and insistent. He drew his breath sharply, staring at me. I paused for a while and then placed its twin on the other side. "Sir..." "Hush, Tim. Not a sound, now." I paused for a while, for him to experience it, to know that it would continue. I held his eyes, daring him, challenging him. He was still hard, dripping. I had a hand full of the clips now. "Now Tim, stay quiet. Stay completely quiet." I started slowly to clip them round his scrotum. His breath got quicker, but still he made no sound, no sound at all. I put five. "How is that, Tim?" His voice was quivering. "It hurts. Oh god, it hurts..." "Yes, love, I know. But you can do this. I'm going to put a few more. Not a sound, now. Show me you can do this." I stroked his dick gently. His eyes were wide, wild. I could feel his body shaking as I added another five, slowly, one by one, carefully. A strange, ethereal high-pitched sound sound came from him. He was still completely hard. "Hush now, Tim. Just a few more." He was close, so close to his limit. I added another three. He was shaking harder now, his breath panting. I paused for a while, carressing his dick, his thighs, his body, to let him feel where he had got to. Carefully, I took the clips in one hand. Then with one movement I pulled them all off, and swept off the ones on his nipples. He screamed, and while he was still screaming I took him in my mouth. I was gentle, but insistent, and soon his screams were mixed with other noises. I could just see his face, contorted and twisted with his pain, his pleasure. Then he came. And this is what it was all for: twisting pain and pleasure into a single rope, until he couldn't tell them apart. That was his fantasy, which he'd been caressing in his mind for so long. That's what Tim was about. His come slid over my tongue, light and young, and I swallowed it. "Okay?" "God, yes, oh yes, oh yes, sir, oh yes..." I kissed him, my mouth still sticky with him. I waited a few minutes, stroking his hair. Then I snapped the releases and carried him to a chair.