Justin's Game



Warnings: If BDSM is not your thing, please do not read any further. You have been warned.

Notes: This fic begins with a re-written version of a drabble I wrote titled "The Wait." The remainder is a fic I'd worked
on in the past but never completed. This is a total departure from my usual writing, and deals with a subject that is intriguing to some, and offensive to others. Please heed the warning above.

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The bindings eat into my wrists as I struggle; the ball gag obliterates my moans.   The blindfold obscures even the faintest light in the room.

Even worse than the feeling of helplessness and loss of control is the waiting. What will he do tonight, whip me?  Pour hot wax on my ass again? Use that dildo that makes me wild?  I'm at his mercy - He could do anything to me.

I taught Justin how to use his power, and he's surpassed me. But fear not; I know I’m in the best of care.  He only hurtswhen I ask for it.

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What the fuck is this boy going to do to me? I'm gonna kick his ass when this is over. I can't see shit, and can't even talk. He put a goddamn ball gag in my mouth! I knew I was gonna regret losing that bet. I'm in deep shit. I thought this kind of stuff was too much for the kid; Hell, he's better at it than me! I guess I'll have to add bondage and domination to his ever-growing list of skills.

I pull, strain and struggle against the bonds, and notice Justin tied me down enough to be comfortable, but not enough to escape. Holy mighty fuck.

Justin's wanted to top me for weeks. He found the holes I drilled into my bed, and I told him they were for putting in rope for bondage. You have to be creative when you don't have a four-poster bed. Perhaps I should look into buying one...

I could feel Justin hovering over me, straddling my hips. I feel leather against my thighs, and knew he'd put on his chaps. Damn – I shouldn't have bought him those fucking chaps. He's gonna wear me out; when he busts out the chaps, I know he's ready for business.

I got into this mess because of a wager. I bet Justin he couldn't pull a trick faster than me, and he jumped right in.

"So, what's the bet?"

"I'm giving Emmett a stopwatch - which ever one of us is the fastest at snagging a potential trick gets to top the loser. We don't have to fuck said trick; we just have to win them over. I'm sure to win this one."

"Don't be so sure of yourself, old man."

"Old Man? You're gonna pay for that!"

I gave Justin a swat on his ass, which only egged him on. Shit.

We went our separate ways on the dance floor. I found a hot brunet, and didn't see what Justin was up to; otherwise I would have known he beat me by a fucking millisecond. A MILLISECOND! To say I was mortified would be an understatement. All I could think about was Emmett laughing and the holes in this bed, which I now regret drilling.

I struggle again, more for show than a need to escape. This is my weakness. Justin knows how much I love it when he takes charge. I will never, ever tell him how much it turns me on to be at his mercy; he has a swelled head as it is. But then again, he probably knows it anyway; he's too smart for his own damn good. He knows when I crave it too.

Sometimes, after a hard day, plain old sucking and fucking won't calm me down. I need to feel something more intense.

I grind my ass against his crotch, silently begging for relief. Come on, kid - you're killing me here - and you love it - give an old man a break, will ya? I can't believe I just called myself an old man. Jesus.

Oh, thank God - he's taking the ball gag out of my mouth. Shit - I know having a moist mouth is a good thing, but this is ridiculous. I can't even see how much drool I've got on that thing and frankly, I don't want to know. Justin sometimes takes things a little too far. I think we'll have to have a talk when he's done torturing me. I guess I should be grateful he didn't make me crawl on the floor. I wouldn't do that, even if he begged me with that rosy pout and batting eyelashes.

Oh, shit. He found the feather. I feel it tickle down my spine, and my whole body shakes. Not being able to see only heightens the sensation. Yikes - if he goes after my feet with that thing, I will definitely kill him. It's driving me crazy to feel it on my thighs and ass as it is. Oh, good - he's not going after the feet. I can't take it. Justin tickled my feet once when we were in bed, and I literally screamed for relief. I can tolerate being tickled anywhere but my feet.

No you didn't just get up off me! Come on Justin, you've only just started! Fuck! That boy frustrates the hell out of me sometimes. And where the hell did he go? I can't even sense him in the room, but of course I'm wearing a goddamn blindfold, so why would I? I hear a click - that sounds like my Zippo, and then - OUCH! I get hot wax on my ass.

I'm so glad I bought white candles. Justin wanted black ones, but I told him darker colored candles burn hotter and can be more painful. Spending the occasional night at Meat Hook comes in handy sometimes.

I hear him chuckle as I gasp in shock and pain. I really hate you sometimes, Justin. He waits for the wax to cool, flicks it off my ass, and does...it...again. Holy motherfucking shit! As much as this stings, I'm getting hard in spite of it. Justin, you have officially graduated from Dom School. Good Lord. Justin gets up again and leaves me in the lurch, now with wax booty and an erection.

Asshole.

I feel him come back, and immediately feel suede on my thighs. Oh, yes- he found the cat. We have a black-and-red suede cat O'nine tails I bought at a leather shop during Pride one year. It's a beautiful thing. The handle is red, and the perfect weight for both of us to hold. The tails are about a half-inch wide each, in alternating black and red velvety suede. I loved that thing the minute I saw it - like the man dragging it across my legs right now. Yes, that hundred and fifty bucks was well-spent. Justin named it "Kitty," and he'll threaten not to use her if I'm not a good boy. Shit - if Mikey could read my thoughts it would embarrass me to death.

He's tickling and teasing me with Kitty, and I'm tense, wondering when he'll change tack. FUCK! He just changed tack alright, smack in the middle of my ass. Oh, fuck - all I can do is squirm when he beats me with that thing. Staccato slaps fall on each burning cheek, and I'm practically humping the bed. I guess sitting down won't be an option tonight. I feel a slow burn building on my ass, and the warmth is actually rather arousing. I know my cheeks are probably crimson now, but I don't care. Do your damage, Sunshine.

It's getting close to the point of real pain, but he stopped just in time. There's a fine line between pleasure-pain and actual pain, and Justin was on the verge of crossing it. He knows how pissed I'd be if he actually hurt me. I want him to treat my ass as well as I treat his. He does, but sometimes he pushes the envelope. That's why he's such a good top.

He's massaging my ass, and I just want to purr and snuggle against him. I dreamed one night I was a cat, and I was curled up in Justin's lap getting stroked. Cats have such an easy life – free food and stroking on a daily basis - and that's just how I feel now.

Purrrr...

God, Justin, just fuck me already. He drags his nails down my cheeks, and I yelp. As much as I'm enjoying this torture, I just want to get on with the main event. I can't handle all this teasing anymore. He's gotta do something quick, or I'm going to yell blue bloody murder. He moves down me, and slides his tongue down my crack.

Oh, yeah - work that tongue in there. Shit, no one rims like you, Justin. What the hell was I thinking? My ass is officially yours. What the hell would the guys think if they walked in right now and saw me? Would they laugh, stare in shock, or would they just tell all of Liberty Brian Kinney's a nelly bottom? Ted would probably do the latter. Mikey would scream some obscenities at Justin, I know for sure. Emmett would try to take a picture. Oh, fuck - I'm losing my erection...help!

Justin saves the day with a finger and a tube of lube. He opens my hole with a finger, and I'm bucking and humping like a horse on speed. As much as I love having a finger or two in my ass, there's only one thing I want in there. I hear myself cry out "Enough," and then Justin told me that wasn't the safeword. I don't give a goddamn about a safeword; I want to get fucked! I guess I said it out loud, because I felt Kitty smack my ass again. After that, Justin gets up and leaves me. We're going to have to talk about this teasing shit. I mean, I do it to him because it's fun - oh, wait. I just realized the fucker's paying me back. Oh, crap.

Justin crawls up on me. He took off the leather pants, so all I feel is skin. I kinda would have enjoyed feeling that hot leather on me while he fucked me, but oh well. What's he gonna do now? Oh - he's removing the blindfold.

"Thank you Brian," I hear in my ear, and then he kisses my neck. My boy knows when to be rough, and when to be gentle. Oh, man - I can barely contain my joy as I felt his cock slide into me. God - this is what Justin feels every time I do him. Why don't I do it more often? He's laying on top of me with his arms around my waist, pumping away. I couldn't be happier...I'd call him Daddy right now, but I have to maintain some dignity.

I'm humping away on the duvet as he rams away, not even caring that I'll have to get the damn thing cleaned for the second time this week. I sometimes...shit...damn...Justin - I can't even think when he's inside me. I'm holding on to the platform as best as I can being bound, while he's giving me the ride of my life.

I hear loud moaning and pleas for more - fuck, is that me? When did I become such a nelly? I can't believe I'm on this bed begging a twink to plow me; but here I am, begging and pleading like he does. This encounter had better remain in the loft. The guys must never know. Justin's ego would be through the roof. And I'd get all kinds of offers from the assholes who tried to top me once.

Shit - God - my body feels like a tight bowstring. My load coats the duvet and me, and the bowstring relaxes. I can't believe I just compared my orgasming body to a fucking bowstring...must...exorcise... violin reference. Well, maybe I was thinking of a bow and arrow - that's better. Whew.

I hear a loud cry, and feel Justin shudder above me. I'm squeezing, milking him as he comes, and then he slumps on top of me. I feel bereft as he pulls out and handles his business, but I know I do the same thing. I just wanted him to stay inside me...is that too lesbo? I don't know anymore.

He unties my wrists, and I roll over on top of him. I devour his lips with gnashing, grinding, biting kisses that scream my gratitude. After a session like this, I'm usually speechless; all I can do is thank him with kisses. Justin surprises me every time. I taught him well.

We snuggle on the damaged duvet, and I look down at the jagged rope burns on my wrists. I really did have fun. Unfortunately, so did Justin. I know I've created a monster.

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