Date: Mon, 19 Jun 2000 20:16:21 BST From: Jack Rowan <jack_rowan@hotmail.com> Subject: The Story of Tim - part 12 THE STORY OF TIM - part 12 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. There are also some extra notes at the end of this part. Comments will be very gratefully received by Jack_Rowan@hotmail.com Many thanks to all who have mailed me during the posting of the story. ====================================================================== 64 Intelligence and perpicacity ------------------------------- I handed the transcript to Chris. "Intelligent and perspicacious, that's me," said Tim. "Odious and smug child. There's still a whipping to come, remember?" "There is that, yes," he said, a bit subdued. We wandered through to the patio, Chris still reading. I made some tea. "So, Tim, you learnt a few things, then, when you were a kid, mm?" She was brisk, businesslike. "I guess so. How to work out what people want. How to get them to do what you want, without them knowing. How to play people off one against another. Things like that." "Are those good things to know?" "They're useful. Especially if everyone else is stronger than you. Especially if most of them are fairly stupid." "Do you think knowing them makes you a better person?" "Not really. You could know them and be pretty nasty." "Nasty in what way?" "Mean, cruel, vicious. Brutal. What other ways are there to be nasty?" "How about spiteful? Gossipy? Despising other people? Getting people to do things for you which you should do yourself? Generally treating people as if they didn't matter? Stirring up trouble just for the hell of it?" "Yes, you could know those things and still be nasty in those ways." "Do you think knowing those things makes you more likely to be nasty in those ways?" Tim stared at her. "Yes," he said, very quietly. "Do you think being like that would make a person popular?" "No." It was a very subdued Tim now. "That was laying it on hard, Tim," said Chris. "But you're bright enough to cope. But tell me. If a person turned out nasty in those ways, if they'd been abused, would you be surprised?" "No, I wouldn't." "So whose fault would it be, if that happened?" "The person who'd abused them, I suppose." "Right. Actually, Tim, let me tell you something. You aren't a nasty person, not really. You just think you are." Tim started to cry quietly. "You think you are, because so many people, like Charleen and your abuser, what was his name? Mike, yes, and those other people told you you were, because you used your cleverness to defend yourself. That's not nasty, Tim, that's self-defence. Everyone's allowed to do that. But then they told the school, and it spread, and pretty soon, just a bit, you start to act up to it. Am I right?" "Yes." "So, what do we do now?" "I don't know. I'm disgusting, and it's hopeless." "You aren't disgusting, Tim, you're funny, and open-hearted, and generous, and brave. Also, you really hate cruelty, especially to helpless and weak people. All those are good things. Now, Tim, you're intelligent. I'm asking you to see that what you said is wrong, and all those other people were wrong, and I am right. Am I right?" "You must be. But it's very difficult to feel it that way." "So you must come and see me, lots of times, and we'll sort this out. Okay?" "Yes, ma'am." He was smiling at her now, through his tears. I blessed Chris with all my heart. "And what have you done already, to get things straight?" "I became my Master's slave." "Yes. And he'll steer you, and guide you, and when the nasty bits come out, he'll do something about it, will he? Is that the idea?" "Yes. He's everything. He's good and strong." "But?" "Sometimes, he's too nice, almost. Sometimes he's, he's not really strict. When he should be. Master, I..." "Don't worry, Tim. Say what's needed, okay? That's an order." "But Tim, he spent the morning torturing you." "He's good at that. He understands all that so well, ma'am, you wouldn't believe how good he is at it. It's outside all that, then he can be almost too nice, he lets me get away with things." "Like what?" "Like - like that bug thing. I knew it must be there. I didn't look, but it had to be. I should have told him, but I didn't. I thought, well, I thought our conversations would be more impressive if he didn't know. It's like you said, ma'am, I get people to do things. I - I manipulate them. But he's my Master. That was wrong." "Tim! Why, you devious little bastard!" I burst out. They both laughed at me. "So your Master's got to be a bit stricter with you, hasn't he?" "Yes, ma'am." "Okay, that's his lesson. And when you come to see me, I'll set you lessons, too. And then two weeks from now, we'll all talk about how the lessons have gone. Okay?" We agreed. 65 Sick and slimy ----------------- "Now, Tim," she said. "What did David get out of you this morning? Tell me. I can know, can I?" So Tim told her. She looked shaken. "Tim, it's my job to be, well, a bit detached, a bit standoffish when we're talking like this. But I want you to know that I feel so sad for that little boy. Do you feel sad for him?" "Yes. I can now," and he was weeping. "But before?" "I tried not to think about it." "That's not fair, is it? Not fair to that little crying boy. He was only seven, Tim, that's not much more than a baby, is it?" "No. It was cruel." "He needs you to comfort and cuddle him, that little boy, not tell him to shut up. Do you understand?" "Yes, I do now. But I was just wanting all that, all that whining to go away..." "And who is that speaking, Tim? Who wanted the whining to stop, and shouted 'Shut up, you whining brat' and stuff like that? Who was that?" There was a long pause. "Mike. That was Mike." He sighed. "Yes. How come you're doing what he did?" The pause went on for a long, long time. Chris waited patiently. "I suppose he became part of me, in some ways. Part of him was in me." "Yes. That's how they work, you know? They become part of you, and that's how they manipulate you. Did your Master help?" "Oh yes, ma'am, he's helped so much! In lots of ways, lots and lots. Not just today, in the basement, other times, every time he fucks me, and just being around him." "That's good." She looked straight at Tim, then hit him with it, almost brutally. "When Mike raped you, did you enjoy it?" Tim screamed. It was so abrupt, I jumped in my chair. "NO!! It was horrible, absolutely horrible! I hated it, every single time!" "You can still enjoy things, with a part of you, even if they're horrible. Can't you? Your body works in these ways, and that's it. If you rub a man or a boy inside, rub their prostate, they get hard and it feels nice, even if everything else is horrible. That's just the way a male person works." Tim was weeping again. Then, after a long pause: "It's true, I did get hard. Sometimes. In fact it was more. He always beat me before he, he raped me, so I used to look forward to it stopping. But it was a sick feeling. Sick and slimy." "Yes. Thank you, Tim, that can't be easy to say. You're a brave boy, do you know that? Very brave." "My Master helped me. He made me talk. I can talk because he made me." "Yes. And what else did he show you? I don't know this, he hasn't told me, but I can guess." Suddenly Tim smiled. "He's fucked me four times, now. Each time was lovely. He's never hurt me doing that, not really. And each time I came. Just from him fucking me. And he was so lovely, always making me feel good, always caring how I felt." "So how does that compare to the feelings you got when Mike raped you?" There was a pause while this sank in. "Oh god! It's - it's just not in the same world. Just - just, well, nothing! No comparison at all." "See? You gave Mike nothing, except what he stole. You gave your Master everything." "It's true! Everything." He looked at me. "I give you everything." I grasped his hand. "Well, look, Tim, we'll have to talk some more about all this, because it's very deep, it needs working out. Not just as you think, but as you feel. But it's clear to me that although Mike wanted to harm you, he hasn't really succeeded much. In the end, you and your Master are far, far stronger. And so much for him." She made a dismissive gesture. "Surgery over. For today." I looked at her. She was a revelation. "Hey," she said, breaking the mood, "Is it really true that Tim comes every time you guys fuck? Just from the fucking?" We laughed, Tim almost hysterically. "Every time," I said. "Reliable as clockwork." "Well, shit. Some people have all the luck." 66 Punishment detail -------------------- I showed her to her car. "Chris, I can't thank you enough." "Oh, that was just the beginning. Marking out the territory. All very unorthodox, of course, but who cares. There's lots more work to do, but don't worry, okay David? There's nothing that can't be sorted. And please, he's not a bird with a broken wing, okay? Get on with it, for pete's sake." She drove off. When I came back, Tim was standing. "I'm sorry, sir." "Yes. Well, I will accept your apology, but there must be some punishment." I was determined to carry this through, now. He winced. "Are you - are you going to beat me?" "Beat you? God, no. In this household, beating is for fun. Nothing like that." He smiled. "No. Go and tidy the dungeon, it's a mess. Put all the clips into the box marked FOR AUTOCLAVE, and be careful with them, okay? Then go and tidy your room, that's a mess, too. Then you can hoover this carpet and dust down the furniture, and clean the patio door windows, they're filthy. After that, I'll introduce you to the lawnmower. And take your clothes off first." He gave me an ironic smile, but obeyed. I read a book and watched him working. He didn't seem too disheartened. I showed him the lawnmower, how to start it and run it. It was delightful to watch him, naked, wrenching it round the corners. I hadn't forgotten that he must still be aching from the rack, and it couldn't be easy, but he still got into it. He worked hard. I was impressed. Finally, he came back to me, grinning. "All finished, sir." "Very good, slave. In that case, I accept your apology. Do not attempt to manipulate me again." "No, sir." I kissed him. His response was frantic, desperate, and I held him for a long time. Over his shoulder I could see the sun setting. For a moment it gave me _Exchange and Balance_. I was satisfied. "Okay, kid. Go and put some clothes on and come and help me with the supper." He went and came back happily, and we set to work. "Chris was really brilliant, wasn't she? I was expecting her just to stroke my hand and say 'poor dear', but she didn't at all. She just went in there." "Yup. It was quite a shock to me, too, I've never seen her at work before. But of course, she's a professional. I suppose it's like a surgeon, really, you have to cut to cure." "Will you ring up and make some appointments for me tomorrow? I need some more of that." "Do it yourself. She may want to speak to you about it. By the way, in treatment you can't be forever referring tbings to me. This is between you and her, she's your therapist. Take it that I want you to answer all her questions, to say what's needed and to work hard at this, okay?" "Check." "Come on, let's eat." We ate in silence for a while. I gazed in awe at Tim's voraciousness. We would need to shop again soon. 67 Another introduction ----------------------- "Okay, Tim, how do you feel?" "Not bad. My joints don't hurt any more. I liked the lawnmowing, sorry, but I did, and it seemed to tighten things up somehow. I feel fine, actually." "That's good. Because I'm going to beat you now." "Oh, god. Oh, David, I'm - I'm absolutely terrified of this one. Really." I held his hand. He was quivering like a frightened dog. But we had to do this. It was getting in the way. "Tim. It will be all right. Trust me on this. I'm going to insist, Tim, because I want you through this one. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "Okay. Go and change into a swimsuit. We won't be going downstairs." This calmed him a bit. I closed all the curtains, then went downstairs, put the tools I might need in a box, so as not to scare him, and brought them back up. He was standing in the middle of the room, wearing the swimsuit he had on the very first day. He was not looking happy. I tried a smile, but he couldn't manage it. I went over and kissed him, and he started to cry. "Who am I, Tim?" "David, my Master." "Have I ever done anything bad for you?" "Never, absolutely never." "Then trust me." He gave me a watery smile. I sat in an upright chair. "Strip." He obeyed. He was completely soft. "Come and lie over my knees. Hands above your head." He looked at me in surprise. He hadn't anticipated this, but he obeyed. He was stretched over my lap. He had conquered one fear. I was as hard as I could be. His exquisite arse cheeks, tanned, were before me, waiting. I began to spank him, gently, scarcely more than pats, alternating one cheek and the other, quite slowly. I put a hand under him and felt him. He was still soft, but as I gently felt him, he began to rise. I speeded up a little, and then some more, and then started to increase the power, slowly, slowly. He was still hard, and I was slowly, gently, jerking him, and my blows grew harder and harder. Ten minutes. Now the slaps were loud, stinging, firm. I was moving all over his cheeks now, they were red, almost shining, and he was started to moan as I jerked him, faster and faster. Fifteen minutes, and he was crying out, tears in his eyes. Soon I was spanking him almost as hard as I could, it was hurting me, and I could feel his precum soaking me, my hand slipping over him demanding, insisting, and he was bucking and yelling. Then he tensed hard and came, spurting into my hand, as I continued the blows with all the strength of my arm. He screamed and screamed, rigid as a board over my lap. I stopped, and he was onto me, hugging and kissing like a maniac. "So," I said as he finally relaxed in my arms, "Was that so terrible?" He was sitting on my lap, facing me, his legs round my sides. "You know," he said with a cheshire cat smile. "You know." I licked the tears from his face. I love moments like this. "Now do you trust me a bit more?" "I always trust you. It's me I don't trust." I stroked his back. He purred. We cuddled for ten minutes, saying very little. 68 Primal scene --------------- "Is that all?" His face, inches from mine, was inscrutable. I was looking into the green of his eyes, cool, elvish. In the back of my mind, _Blood and Pain_ was beginning to glow, beginning to spin again, and this time I welcomed it. "All? No, kid, you've got a lot more to give me yet." I put him on his feet. "Come over here," I said. "Yes, sir." I led the way to the Chair. "This should really be done on the cross," I said, "But I don't think it would be fair to hang you on that tonight. So we'll use this." His smile was silky as he climbed up. He stretched out his arms and legs, and I strapped him in. He gave a voluptuous sigh, and relaxed. I realised that he was now deeply, deeply into this, almost away by himself, and all I needed to worry about was giving him what he wanted. I stripped myself, then. Some things you cannot do, except naked. "Tim," I said quietly, "I'm going to whip you now." The one I used had a single strand, broad, very light. It would scarcely hurt at all. I moved slowly up from his stomach to his chest, and flicked his nipples with it. He moved, as if relaxing into an eiderdown, and moaned gently. I worked my way down, down, till I reached his stone-hard dick and balls, and worked them a little, and he gave a series of in-drawn hisses. He was looking at me now. "Don't be frightened, sir," he said quietly. "I'm okay. You can do more than that." I switched to a scourge of many broad tails, but still light, and worked him up and down, down his legs, and lightly on his dick and balls. I worked for a long time, getting harder and harder. He began to give more and more moans, moving his head, still looking at me, as I built up, harder and harder. Then I switched again. This one had many tails, but heavier. As I worked him, he began a high, continuous cry, almost a wail. For a while I continued, building up gradually, but striking slowly, deliberately. His eyes were staring at me, but he was away, far away. He was dribbling precum massively, and it flicked in the lamplight as his body jerked. I couldn't switch again, not this time. The whole of his body was red now, from shoulders to knees, and he was running with sweat, his face contorted and twitching. For a moment I hesitated. Suddenly he stared at me and growled: "Don't stop! Hit me, dammit! Hit me!" So I went on. I worked his stomach, the flesh of his thighs, and more lightly his chest, striking faster now, harder. I was sweating too, the light was glinting off both our bodies, we were joined by the effort. I was so hard, it hurt. This was the hottest scene I had ever done, the slightness of his body and the pain were intoxicating me. The moans were loader and louder, and I saw that he was about to come, unbelievably, come under the whip. I took a deep breath and prayed. "Come now, Tim, come for me now! Come! That is an order!" I struck twice, hard. He shrieked. I did it again. He gave a long, long scream, and then he came. So did I. I released him and carried him to my bed. He was moaning, crying out, to himself, or me, or god, I don't know. "Oh god, oh god, oh heaven, lovely, lovely, oh god, oh god..." I lay behind him, holding him, stroking his hair and kissing his face and neck. "Oh David, David, oh fuck me please, please fuck me..." I was ready again. I thrust into him, my dick still slippery with my own come. He was as tight as a vice, and boiling hot, and I forced through his resistance, deep into him. He gave another shriek and began to surge against me, jerking and pressing, wailing and moaning. In no time at all, it seemed, we were both coming again, wildly, both screaming. And then at last he began to relax. I held him, not too tight; he was going to be very, very sore. I had taken him far beyond where I had intended, and now it was over, I felt a little ashamed. I needn't have bothered. He turned over to face me. Our hands were together, our faces close, intimate. "So that's whipping," he whispered. "Yes. That was it. Still frightened?" "Oh David. I never guessed - I never guessed - I had no idea what it was like." "Still worried by Mike and his belt?" He started to laugh. He laughed and laughed; not hysterically, a good laugh, full of amusement and fun. "What a thought. That poor fool. If he'd only known. That was twenty times harder than he ever did, and there I was, loving it..." He was still giggling as I drifted off to sleep. 69 And then ----------- I was awoken by the sun on my face. I stumbled out of bed, made a cup of coffee, and brought Tim one. "Hello," he said, as his eyes opened. He was smiling. I offered a small prayer of thanks. "How do you feel?" He sat up. He was red from his shoulders down, and in a few places bruises were starting to show. He'd look pretty dramatic in a few hours. "Wow," he said, looking down at himself. "Better wear some clothes today." I looked at him carefully. "Make sure to tell me if there are any problems today," I said. "You look okay, but there's a doctor we can see if we have to." "A doctor? Wouldn't he..." "No, no, he's cool. Come on, let's get up." We showered together. I washed him gently, all down his front, round his legs, everywhere I had struck. He was very brave. Then we were sitting at breakfast. The day was hot again, and I opened the doors to the patio, to let in the air and the song of the birds. A quiet day, that was the plan. "Well," he said, "Was I okay? Will I do?" He laughed at me, an exultant, wild sound. "Tim, you were marvellous. We went far, far further than I had planned. And I never dreamt you would actually come like that. That was so lovely." "You should have been me. By the end I scarcely knew where I was. The pain just seemed to fade away, it became an incredible feeling, as if I was coming all over my body, and it got more and more and more intense, and when I came, I just thought I would explode and die. Is it always like that?" "Only for people like you, love, only for you." He smiled at me, secretly, utterly happy. "When can we do it again?" I laughed. Behind him, _The Good Regard_ was looking at us, and I thought I could feel a smile. "Not for a while. Just look at you! If I did it again now, I could cut you. No, we'll have to find other things to keep you busy. But don't worry. I have - various things in mind." He got up to look out of the doors. I could hear the thrush challenging the world, and the ducks squabbling in the lake. "I've got it all, now," he said. "Fucking, whipping. Life, love, everything. I've got it all back. There's nothing left of what he did, nothing at all. We've won." His hair was pale, pale straw in the sun. His eyes were green under his long lashes. His face, young, boyish, was turned towards me, as one foot slightly ahead, he turned into the morning. He was my boy, my slave, my lover, my companion, my friend, my life. And he still is. END. - A friend asked me, and what happened then? Well, they found Tim a place in a college nearby, and he moved to stay with David. He got his A levels, went to University. Now he's a political scientist. They say he'll get his professorship before he's thirty. And still they wake up together every morning. David still writes books. The critics say they're rubbish, but they sell by the million. He's become insanely rich. Mira remarried. Tim was her witness. It was a fine day. Tim and David do some work for Anthony and his people. It doesn't make the headlines, it doesn't pay the rent. But it pays their dues in more important ways. They don't forget. As for me, Jack? Well, I've never been into teenagers, really. Okay, some of them are cute, but there's a barrier, and that's the way it should be. The people who have made our laws and conventions in these things, they aren't fools; some things, some areas, are better left alone. But now that this story is finished, and Tim and David begin to recede into the background of my life, I can't help being just a little bit in love with both of them. I hope they do well. Jack ====================================================================== A few notes in answer to questions ---------------------------------- I added these notes to go with this posting, to answer some of the questions people have sent me. Many thanks to everyone who has written. More of Tim and David? Not really. I think I'll leave them to get on with their lives. But there may be more stories about their group, and Tim and David and some of the others may appear as minor characters. Where does it happen? In southern England. I can't be more precise. Is it autobiographical? No. Am I a Master? No. It's important to say this: I have no real experience of BDSM at all. Some people have been kind enough to say that I represent that life well and positively. If so, I'm honoured and gratified, but I make no claims of great insight into these things. This story is fiction. I have no desire to join the ranks of the BDSM wannabee gurus. Please, and this is important: don't do anything I say just because I said it. Find someone who really knows. Who are Martin and Peter in the real world? Dunno. Important people. Is this the same version I posted to assgm? More-or-less, yes. Some typos have been corrected and a few other small changes have been made. What about these mandalas? I made them up. I imagined this group of people who use mandalas to get in touch with the spiritual side of things, the Kindly Powers, as they say. I can't draw, so I haven't tried to draw the mandalas. Think of them as round designs which make you feel slightly odd when you look at them. The version of _The Good Regard_ in David's house is about a metre square. Since some people were interested, here's a list of those that appear in the story, with some indication of the significance that David's people attach to them, from the notes I made when I was writing it. The Good Regard of the Kindly Powers (also called _Good Regard_, _The Lady_ or _The Queen_): Happiness, good times, hearth and home, hospitality, nurturing, kindness; also death. Hung in living rooms, etc, as a blessing. Placed on the breasts of dead people. Principally yellow, russet, orange, green Accidental Blessings: acceptance, inevitability, creativity, happy surprises, childbirth, falling in love; also unexpected disaster Harvest Time (also called _The Blessed_): success after long work, happiness after long pain, mourning, the end of journeys; also bad results of misdeeds and omissions. Principally yellow and other harvest colours Exact Endeavour: Skill, attention to detail, exertion, judgment, music, cleanness, using all ones abilities; also fanaticism, overbearing pride, loss of love. Principally different blues and white Lurid Desires (also called _The Mad Dance_): wildness, lack of restraint, sex, drugs, alcohol (especially wine), creative ecstasy, carnivorous animals; also hatred, violence, war. Principally yellow and scarlet Wise Doubt: care, suspicion, canniness, street smarts, preparing for problems, doctors and medicine, premonitions; also paranoia, cynicism. Dark colours Deep Undertakings (also called _Setting Forth_): starting important task or journey, duty, civic duties, oaths, intention, ambitions; also plotting, conspiracy, deceit Just Revenge: justice, retribution, self-respect, fairness, mercy; also self-righteousness, hypocrisy, priggishness, disproportionate anger Blood and Pain (also called _The Lord_): agony, suffering, self- sacrifice, redemption, crisis, turning point; also disease, madness Principally reds and black, looks like a wheel with a rim. Hung in dungeons, etc Exchange and Balance: apology, recompense, forgiveness, fair dealing, fair trade, legality, traditions; also stuffy respectability, bureaucracy, meanness ====================================================================== And finally: After getting this out again to prepare it for this posting, I find I'm still just as much in love with Tim and David as before. Good luck, my friends. Jack.