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tim-tops · 5 years ago

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Moby was kneeling in the bathtub, a towel under his knees and another under his hands, his head turned as he craned his neck to watch Tim working. The younger boy swirled the spoon around in the over-large bowl before tapping it against the rim and laying it on the counter. "You know it'll cool down a little once I get it in the bag, but is that good?" Tim bent over next to the tub so moby could slowly dip two fingers into the bowl, nodding once.

"It's fine."

Tim nodded again, reaching out to stroke moby's hair before standing back up and returning to the sink, where all of the equipment was spread out. The hook was already hanging from the shower curtain so Tim could hang the bag as soon as it was full. "Go ahead and take the plug out, baby." His voice was soft, gentle. "And start with your fingers."

It was the gentlest of their "darker" interludes. No name-calling or hair pulling or punishments for noises of pain. It hurt enough on it's own, was degrading enough on it's own,Tim didn't need to add anything to that.

Tim felt a small tremor run through his body as he heard the soft moan coming from the bathtub, knew the other boy had just extracted the plug. He glanced up at the mirror, watching the boy set the glass plug on the edge of the tub next to the bottle of lubricant. Moby picked up the bottle, desperate to fill himself as he opened it, dripping some of the lubricant onto his fingers and rubbing them. It was cold to the initial touch, but warmed up as his fingers moved.

"You're so fucking hot like that, baby," Tim purred, from the sink where the bag was nearly half full. "Now, go ahead."

Moby flushed warm from the compliment, his wrist sliding down along his waist, hipbone, the curve of his ass. And then his fingers were poised, resting against his entrance before pressing in. He was already loose from the plug so it was an easy intrusion. He didn't even bother with more lubricant before pressing a third finger in, moaning outright at the stretch. He started as he heard the click from Tim hanging the bag. "Already?"

"Don't sound so disappointed," the boy chided softly. "You can keep your fingers in for a second." He almost added a soft 'slut', but stopped himself. Tim leaned down, reaching for the bottle of lubricant, letting himself hover over moby for a moment, his breath tickling the back of the boy's neck. "Just think about everything I'll do after," he whispered before straightening back up and slicking lube across the tip of the nozzle and his own fingers. "Okay."

Moby whined, but slowly pulled his fingers out anyway. He wasn't empty for longer than a few seconds,Tim's fingers immediately sliding over his opening before pressing in, then pulling out to press in the tip of the nozzle. "Breathe," he murmured, fingers running down the boy's spine. "I'm going to now, okay?"

"Wait," Moby choked out.

"I'm going to now," Tim repeated, voice a little harder this time. "You're fine." He kept his fingers running along the boy's spine as he loosened the clamp.///

Moby bit his bottom lip, moaning as he felt the first rush of the warm oil sliding into his body. The beginning of the enema was always like Tim’s fingers were now, smooth and soft almost. The cramps would come soon enough, but Tim's fingers would still be the same.

When they started, one of Moby's hands flew up to his stomach and Tim stopped the flow without a word, letting the other boy massage his abdomen to ease the pain. "Just tell me."

"Okay," Moby whispered, his hand still on his stomach. Tim loosed the clamp again and Moby felt the warmth continuing to enter his body. He continued to try to massage away the dull ache of the cramps as he felt his stomach slowly begin to expand from the amount of liquid he'd taken. "Stop," he choked out again. He wasn't supposed to ask how much, but he was desperate to know. He'd felt like he'd taken half already, but he knew it was probably more like a quarter of the bag. "Tim?" he asked, voice close to cracking. "I-I . . . Tim." His voice was weak.

"You're doing great, baby." The boy leaned down, letting soft kisses feather along Moby’s lower back. "So good."

The tears were starting to build up. Moby could feel them in his chest, waiting there, another ache in his body. "I don't . . . I . . ." He let his head fall forward, trying to slow his breathing, trying to focus on Tim's fingers instead of the liquid inside him. "Okay," he whispered,voice cracking as the first tears slid down his cheeks.///

The flow continued and Tim slowed the flow without a say so after five minutes or so. "You're taking it so well, Moby ," he cooed. "You've got half." He usually didn't tell Moby how much he'd taken, but it had been awhile since they'd done this and he didn't want the boy to break before he managed to get both quarts in.

"Half?" Moby asked, voice timid, as if he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disconcerted.

"Mhmmm." Tim leaned forward, letting his lips kiss the back of Moby’s neck, then between the boy's shoulder blades. "Are you ready for more?" When Moby hesitated, Tim squeezed his hip. "You can take it, baby. You've done this before."

Moby 's head nodded a fraction of an inch, his breathing already labored. He gave a small squeak as the oil started slipping into his body again. "Please, please, I can't." He shook his head, the tears coming out for real now. Tim clamped the nozzle again. "I can't, Tim , please. I . . . I need to . . . please."

The younger boy reached his hand down to moby’s stomach, the curve of a belly that wasn't there usually. "I know you can take this," he said, voice low but not angry or disappointed. "I know you can, moby." He let their fingertips brush. "But I won't make you," he added. "It's up to you."

Moby hated that. It would have been so much easier to go along with it if Tim hadn't give him the choice. Now it was up to him to decide if he wanted to be selfish and disappoint his boyfriend and not get rewarded or just go along with it and deal with the pain. "I'll try," he mumbled weakly, squeezing his eyes shit and biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt the flow again.

Tim slipped his hand down moby’s stomach to wrap around his cock, gently stroking, trying to turn the whimpers that the older boy was now making into moans. "So good, baby," he kept whispering over and over. "You're taking it so good."///

"H-Hurts," moby choked out. "Break?"

Tim locked the clamp again, letting moby rub at his stomach and try to catch his breath. "It's almost all in," he said gently, still stroking the other boy's erection. "Just a little bit more. I know you can take it,moby ."

"How much?"

The question hung heavy in the air for a moment. Moby wasn't supposed to ask and he knew it, but he also knew Tim never spanked him or punished him during an enema, so the worst possibility was simply that the other boy wouldn't tell him.

"Probably four ounces," Tim answered finally. "I'm going to start it again, okay? You can take this all in one go."

Moby nodded, gritting his teeth and counting silently in his head, hoping it wouldn't take longer than a minute to finish. He was only a few seconds over when the flow stop and Tim planted a kiss to the small of moby’s back. "I'm going to switch it out for the plug, okay? Keep it in."

Moby tightened his muscles, his toes curling as he did so. It hurt, tensing up along with the dull ache in his abdomen. Even with all his tightening, a little bit of the oil/water mixture escaped, sliding down the inside of his thigh. Then the plug was in and he could relax his muscles, but only somewhat. Tim picked up a washcloth and wiped at the liquid that had slid down moby's skin.

It wouldn't be too long, moby knew, but it always seemed an eternity. Five minutes or ten minutes could feel like hours. Tim’s fingers slid up moby’s back until they were twisted, gently, in his hair. "I can't wait to get you on the bed," he said thickly, voice low and gravely. "Gonna shove my tongue in you so deep, baby."

Moby moaned outright, despite the dull pain in his muscles and stomach. It was a low moan, soft, but a moan nonetheless, and Tim smiled at the sound. "Is that what you want?" the younger boy continued in the same tone. "You want my tongue in you, want me fucking your ass with my mouth? You're going to taste so fucking good, baby." His fingers tightened slightly in moby's hair. Not enough to cause any pain, just enough to make the boy gasp, then moan again. "Then I'll fuck you. So hard, baby, so God damn hard. So deep inside you. And then you'll take my come in your pretty mouth."

Moby was whimpering, his hips moving ever so slightly, squirming. "P-Please?" he choked out. "Please?" He was begging for release. He knew it hadn't been long enough, but if Tim kept it up, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it in.///

"I think you can hold it for another couple of minutes." But Tim let go of moby’s hair and sat back slightly, just letting his hands run slowly up the boy's sides. The older boy was quiet, just a few whimpers leaving his mouth, but still squirming. Tim let his hands slip lower until he was firmly squeezing Moby’s ass in both hands. "Almost, baby. Almost."

There was another minute or so, Tim’s fingers skimming over the curve of moby's cheeks and the older boy trying not to lose anything, trying to keep his muscles tensed just enough. "Okay." Tim stood up, slowly, kissing moby on the back of the neck before stepping out of the tub. "Slowly," he warned the boy. "Don't lose anything, okay?" He held his hands out, letting moby take them as he stood and gingerly climbed out of the tub.

Tim lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and helped moby to sit. This was always when moby started to cry again. He hated it, hated how tim was there for the release. So humiliating, worse than threats of letting Annie watch or having Annie fuck him that one time while Tim took Polaroids. "Please, just . . . I can," moby said. "I'm fine. I can."

Tim looked stern, frowning, shaking his head slightly. "Stop."///

Moby cried harder, bringing his hands up to push at Tim when the boy moved closer, but too submissive to actually to do it as the boy reached between his legs, fingers closing around the end of the plug. "Please," moby whispered again. "Please, Tim ."

The boy ignored him. "Don't let it go until I tell you to." He let moby’s face fall into his shoulder. The boy was shaking from his choked sobs as Tim slowly pulled the plug out. He set it on the counter next to the bowl he had mixed the oil and water in. One arm came up around moby . Despite his tears, the boy was still clenching, tighter than probably necessary. "Okay, go ahead."

Moby shook his head. "No." He cried harder when Tim pressed his lips against the boy's temple. "Please."

"Moby. Now."

The boy was still crying, clinging desperately to Tim as the first drops of the mixture began to slip out. And then, like always, he realized he really had no choice and just let go, sobbing harder as he heard the liquid falling into the toilet. For tim’s part, he just held the boy, fingers running down his back, cooing soft sentiments to him. "Good boy, good job, moby."///

Finally the noises slowed and Tim took a step back, letting moby wipe and flush the toilet. They both washed their hands in the sink and moby blew his nose. "I'm sorry," he whispered, refusing to look at Tim . "I . . . I didn't mean to . . . I know you won't hurt me."

Tim's cool fingers, still slightly wet from the water, slid under moby's chin, tilting the boy's face up to meet his eyes. "Thank you," he returned, leaning in and kissing him, soft at first, then harder, tongue slipping in. "Bed now," he added, unable to contain his smile as he felt moby's lips curve upward against his.

They walked out to the hotel bedroom area and Tim nodded silently, indicating moby should assume the position on the bed. "Back or . . . or knees?"

"Knees if they're not too sore."

Moby would take a lot more than sore knees for a rimjob, as he'd clearly demonstrated, so Tim nodded his approval as the boy got on all fours on the bed. Moby kept his head facing forward, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and watch Tim. The younger boy loved that, how he didn't have to order the boy do it. Moby obeyed the unspoken command of his own accord.

The bed sunk down as Tim knelt behind moby, hands squeezing the boy's hips. Tim leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to moby's entrance, smiling when he heard the moan. His mouth opened, tongue slipping out, licking in broad, even strokes, knowing it would do nothing but tease moby, torturing him. And, truthfully, it was all moby could do to keep from pressing his ass back on tim's face while begging 'more more more'.

Tim sat up and leaned forward, pressing two fingers to moby's lips. The boy sucked them into his mouth without a word, his tongue sliding around the digits, trying not to get overeager, trying not to just beg Tim to fuck him and start grinding his hips into the bed. When tim pulled his fingers from the boy's mouth, he leaned in for the kiss, smiling as he swallowed the moan from the intrusion of his fingers entering moby's hole while they were still kissing.///

Then his mouth was gone and moby's fingers twisted in the bed sheets knowing what was coming, the muscles in his body tensing in anticipation. Tim's fingers pulled slowly, evenly, opening moby up just enough to slip his tongue in, licking around the edge of moby's entrance. He licked over his own fingers as he slowly added another digit from each hand, pulling moby more open, exposing him more. His tongue slipped in deeper and moby tried so hard not to push his ass back on tims's face.

The younger boy's tongue started dipping in and out, slow and first, then quicker. Moby was moaning, head thrown back, hips barely rocking. Tim pulled his tongue out and his fingers, letting his lips press against the hole that was still open to the air. He began to suck and moby let out a stream of expletives that Tim had never heard before. He let up on the pressure, his tongue slipping back inside once more, teasing, pulling out to trace around the inside.

"Fuck me?" Moby asked, voice high-pitched and uncertain.

Tim pulled off almost immediately, but didn't straighten up yet, pressing two fingers into moby abruptly, smirking at the boy's gasp. He slowly twisted them. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard, voice casual.

"Please, Timmy ," the older boy returned desperately, pressing back against the fingers, his head falling into the pillows as he collapsed on his arms, support following to his elbows.

The fingers slipped out and Tim helped turned moby to his back, kissing him softly on the mouth, enjoying moby's tongue probing his mouth curiously, searching for the taste. He pulled away after a moment and the older boy gave an airy sort of sigh. Then he was between moby's legs, bending them at the knee and separating them, settling between the thighs before he pushed in, no lubricant and no warning.///

Moby made a low noise in the back of his throat at the burn, the stretch. He'd been waiting for this. Tim hadn't fucked him for a week, not properly. Toys and fingers and a fist, but not this. So simple, just them. Nothing artificial. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, leaning up to kiss his neck. They looked like any other couple just then, he mused. No one would have been able to look at this scene and guess that moby had just been given a two quart enema or that the other day he'd been made to stand in the corner for an hour after Tim had spanked him fifty times with a hairbrush.

Tim could tell moby was thinking and he angled his hips, shoving in roughly. When moby's eyes popped open even wider and he let out the tiny squeak, he knew he'd found the spot. All semblance of thought seemed to evaporate from moby's features as he just gave in and starting rocking against tim's hips, moaning. He reached for his boyfriend's hand, pressing the palm against his throat. "Please," he whispered.

Tim didn't need to be told twice, squeezing down on moby's neck, releasing after a moment to let him gasp for breath. Then his hand tightened again and they repeated the pattern until his boyfriend started shaking his head, not wanting to use the safe word, but wanting Tim to know he'd had enough. His hand fisted in moby's hair then, squeezing tight enough to hurt, but not hard enough to pull the hair out. "Touch yourself," Tim breathed.

Moby obeyed immediately, one of his hands falling from tim's neck to slip between them, wrapping around the base of his cock, stroking in a slow rhythm that contrasted with the thrusts. He didn't want to come yet, but he knew he didn't have a choice anyway. He'd come when Tim told him. That was the rule.

"Faster," Tim growled, shifting his weight so he could press in deeper. "I want you close, moby. Tell me when you're close."///

The boy nodded, quickening the speed of wrist obediently, letting his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them back up. Tim liked to watch him, said he could see moby melt through his eyes when they were in bed. He felt the hand tighten in his hair slightly and he stopped moving. "Close," he choked out.

Tim smiled, letting moby wonder if he was going to have to hold it, have to wait, have to worry if he could. But it was late and they had to be up in six hours. "When you feel me come, you can," he said, nipping moby's bottom lip between his teeth. The thrusts got impossibly harder after that, but only for a moment.

Tim bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling as he felt himself explode and then moby's wrist was flying as he moaned, low and whorish. Tim could feel moby's come hit his stomach as the older boy started swearing, his ass clenching down on tim's cock as his orgasm tore through him, leaving him breathless and gasping for air.

Moby collapsed prematurely, still feeling his orgasm rocking through him, but unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think. And then he felt Tim pull out, leaving him empty and loose. He whimpered at the loss, turning and pressing his face into the boy's chest as he laid down beside moby in the bed.

Tim's arms came up, feeling moby's body trembling. "Baby, baby," he murmured. "Shhh. It's all right." He kissed the boy's temple, fingertips gently massaging feeling back into moby's muscles. "We're going to sleep now, okay? Early morning."

Moby whimpered, nodding, wondering if he'd be able to walk properly the next day. "Timmy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, moby." Tim waited until he'd stopped shaking before he got up to turn out the lights and set the alarm on his phone. Then he crawled back into bed and held moby until he fall asleep before he got up to clean the bathroom and put the equipment back in their suitcase. He was only going to be running on two hours of sleep the next day, but it had been worth it.

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