The stinging sensation flashed across the young man's face and was followed swiftly by a red glow on his fair skin in the area where the palm had struck him. His eyes, wounded and pleading, looked up in surprise and fear and this seemed to make his companion all the more satisfied.

Peter tried to hide his smug grin as he knelt down and took Michael in his arms. Mike neither fought nor accepted Peter's comfort and merely sat there, being held. And that was fine with Peter. He had made his opinions known and he knew there’d be no retaliation. Michael was past fighting and had begun to accept his role as the subordinate one - the one to be kept and not to keep. Since Peter had gotten rid of the others' interference, he could center all his attention on his new love. It wasn't hard to persuade Davy that his company was not welcome, and although Micky was harder to lose, it only took a few forced words from Mike to ensure that the fuzzy one was out of the picture too.

Now it was just the two of them, and Peter was in paradise. Who would have guessed that under that hardened exterior that was Mike's previous character, there was a weak, helpless individual that needed dominating? And who better than Peter himself? Peter relished in the fact that he could indulge his wildest fantasies with his new toy and be as open as he liked with no one to see or stop him.

Peter could smell the fragrance of Mike's newly washed hair. It was so light and feathery and such a rich, dark ebony. Peter made sure Mike washed it at least twice a day, so that it would always keep that light and fluttering feeling, just the way he liked it. And Mike obliged. He would do anything for Peter, anything to satisfy his sexual appetite; and as a reward, Peter would be kind and civil to him, especially in the bedroom. But of course, if Michael even hinted at rebelling, he’d receive a little reminder of who was boss. A slap in the face was fine and well for when Michael had forgotten his manners or had allowed his mouth to run away with him, but sometimes this was not enough. Peter had spent many pleasurable hours savoring the punishments he inflicted upon his lover. Who said that he couldn't enjoy the discipline he was enforcing?

"Are you sorry for what you said?" Peter asked, trying to keep the sound of pleasure out of his voice.

Michael nodded against his shoulder and seemed to lean closer into Peter, as if justifying his answer.

"I'm glad." Peter smiled openly and ran his hands over Mike's back. He had almost forgotten what Mike had said in the first place, but that was unimportant anyway. What was important was that he made sure that Michael's confidence didn't grow and that these incidents did not become a regular occurrence.

By the time they had sat together for five minutes, Peter had developed a raging hard on. This wasn't unusual. With hisevery fantasy lived out in reality, he was surprised he wasn't engaging in twenty-four hour orgasms. Slowly, he pushed Michael out at arms length and studied his face carefully. The Texan's eyes were turned to the floor, embarrassment and a sense of loss haunting them, despite how hard he tried to hide it. Peter didn't have to pretend he didn't know what Mike was feeling. He knew he was keeping his lover as a prisoner, with punishments used to enforce his rules and creating situations that Mike couldn't escape. And where would Michael go if he did manage to leave? He had become dependent on Peter's domination, being told how to dress, what to eat and when, where to go, even what music to listen to. Books were out; Peter didn't like Michael reading books and he was rarely left for longer than an hour on his own. This was the way Peter liked things done.

"Come on," Peter gave his winning smile, which was now laced with motive as he helped Mike to his feet and led him to their upstairs bedroom.

Peter pushed the door open and gripped Michael's hand a little tighter as he pulled him towards their makeshift double bed - the old twin beds, one Micky's and one Mike's, pushed together most hastily.

The blonde turned back to Michael and he stroked his palm down the guitarist's wistful face. Mike nodded, understanding a symbolic code, which Peter had painstakingly built up over their ten-month relationship. He watched as Peter loosened his belt and allowed his trousers and underwear to slide to the floor. Peter sighed as air was given to his arousal and his smile grew as he laced his fingers in Michael's hair, Michael's beautiful delicate hair. He pulled on it slightly and Mike obediently sank slowly to his knees, coming face to face with such a familiar sight.

"Now it’s time for you to make it up to me." Peter managed to get out as he angled Michael's head and forced himself against him. Immediately a warm wetness enveloped him and he groaned loudly, his head rolling back, his eyes closing in absolute bliss. His grip tightened on Mike's hair, forcing himself deeper down his companion's throat and hearing him gag slightly. There was a hint of resistance and so Peter tightened his grip to a painful extent and all signs of disobedience left and all that was left was utter perfection.

Meanwhile Michael worked hard at satisfying Peter, trying to stop the useless tears from falling down his cheeks - they would only make Peter feel even better. He closed his eyes for a moment, a burning pain growing in the back of his throat and he wished for someone to hold him…and mean it.

The pace picked up and Peter's groans grew louder, this time colored with the occasional curse word as his mind dissolved into that impossible pleasure. Michael had always been good at this, a talent that Peter enjoyed so very much. But at that point, his thoughts seemed to end as he felt the familiar feelings surging through him and he thrust his hips against Michael as he came and exploded. Michael managed to swallow some and the rest seemed to get splattered across his face as he tried to catch his breath and wipe away the tears before Peter saw.

Peter staggered backwards and slumped down on the edge of the bed, hanging his head for a moment to recover. When he looked up after a few moments, Mike was still huddled in the middle of the floor, cum on his face and pain in his eyes. He knew better than to move until Peter told him to. That was the rule.

"Come here Michael." Peter breathed, extending his hand like he was trying to tempt a pet dog.

Mike obeyed and went to sit beside Peter on the bed. Peter took a tissue from the bedside table and almost lovingly wiped Mike's face, always keeping eye contact with those ebony orbs, waiting for Mike to look away. The Texan did and that was when Peter set about undressing his lover, pulling teasingly at his buttons and unzipping his trousers until he was naked in all his pale and silent glory.

As always, Peter took the lead, and taking Michael's hand as he kissed him forcibly, gradually lowered him onto his back on the bed. The blonde could feel every muscle tense up in Mike's body as he laid quietly, his eyes still looking away as if in some distant daydream. Peter removed the rest of his own clothing and lay on top of his lover, smiling the grin of a man who has everything he’s ever wanted. Once again he laced his fingers in Michael's hair and kissed him on his throat and shoulder, tasting the sweet coldness of his skin. Despite everything, he could feel Michael become aroused by all their activities and shared sensations. This pleased Peter further; if only because he knew he could control Michael's pleasure as well as his pain.

Peter reached down and stroked Michael to his full hardness, hearing him sigh pitifully as the tingling sensations ran through him. Peter too was feeling himself grow aroused once again as he pressed himself against Michael in his demanding, possessive way that the guitarist had slowly grown accustomed to.

Peter's hair brushed Michael's chest as he bit and nibbled at his lover's chest, slowly, painfully, inching his way down. Mike groaned occasionally and Peter knew just how much Mike hated it like this, how it crushed him as much as any punishment. It had taken a long, cruel time for Peter to make Mike succumb and now that he had he was going to continue enforcing his iron rule. Mike would suffer and he would like it.

After what seemed like hours of torture, Peter felt that his arousal was beginning to control his thoughts once again and for a brief moment he sat back and took one last look at Michael. His eyes were closed in concentration, his beautiful face pulled in a grimace as he controlled his whimpers and clutched hopelessly at the bedclothes. To Peter, this was what made life worth living.

As always, Peter liked to surprise his lover and before Mike had a chance to take a breath, the blonde had rammed himself inside, making Mike cry out in agony. Immediately Peter was surrounded in pleasure and he groaned heartily, burying himself in that incredible heat. Oh but it felt so good. He clutched at Michael's hips until his knuckles turned white and he slowly began a rhythm. Mike whimpered beneath him, pain and pleasure competing against each other in his body and his mind. For the billionth time he asked himself why he was here and as usual, he came up blank.

Peter forced himself further in with every stroke, knowing how it made Mike feel. He was so tight and pure and untouched, or that’s how he seemed, and he belonged to one and one alone. Peter could have him whenever he wanted him and with that the pace increased, almost blowing Peter's mind with the incredible pleasure, such pleasure he could never get enough of. His eyes rolled in his head as he pushed one last time and came explosively. At that moment, Mike came too, but his release was racked more with relief than ecstasy and they both crumpled back on the bed in a hot sweaty heap.

Before Peter closed his eyes to blissful sleep he pulled Mike's face towards him and kissed him possessively on the lips.

"Now, that wasn't so bad was it?" Peter sighed breathlessly as he pulled his lover close.

********************

"Hey Pete? Peter?"

Peter shook his head from his vivid daydream and looked up to see Michael looking down on him.

"Yeah Mike?"

"Me and Mick are taking the 'Mobile to get some gas for the gig tonight. We won't be long."

Peter took a deep breath and tried to clear his head of his previous thoughts. Mike had a small smile on his lips and his longer, almost darker hair hung slightly in his eyes. He'd only washed it this morning, Peter thought and felt a twinge run through his groin. He looked down, trying not to draw attention to himself and found that at sometime he had begun clutching a pillow. Thank goodness for that, he sighed mentally, knowing that the cushion was hiding a raging hard on. Gathering his thoughts, Peter looked behind Mike to see Micky standing there, looking sluttish in his tight jeans and torn off t- shirt; sucking on a lollipop with his hands on his hips.

"Pete?" Mike tried to get his attention again.

"Oh, sure Mike, ok. Sorry…I was miles away…" Peter trailed off as he watched Mike turn to leave. Oh what he would give to drag him in the nearest bedroom and fuck him till he cried for mercy.

Mike passed a gentle smile to Micky and they both escaped through the door and were away and Peter knew he wouldn't see them for a few hours at least. More time to daydream he supposed, and he stood slowly, preparing to head to the bathroom to relieve himself of his hardness. Images of Michael's smile, his warm eyes still haunted his mind and he growled under his breath.

Micky.

He was in the way. Once Micky was out of the way, Peter knew he could slowly get Michael just where he wanted him. It would take time, but time he had and he knew it could be done. But he would have to get rid of that ridiculous drummer.

That evening, by the time the band was ready to head to their gig, Peter had already formulated a marvelous plan. Micky would soon cease to be a problem.