He was growing impatient and confused in equal measure. He had expected a raging hot passion the moment we got home to accompany the palpable tension there had been across the dinner table. I'm fairly sure the waiting staff were blushing each time Tim did.

I loved how he had insisted that he would pay for dinner but subsequently quailed under the look that I gave him. He was vying for even the smallest morsel of control in the relationship. His fears of being womanly and feminine resurfacing and causing him to revere the inner turmoil it brought him.

I watched in a psychotic glee as he descended back to the Tim who had first wandered into my office, unsure and coy. He played with his hair and laughed hysterically when I told him the dullest, most inane jokes, smiling delicately and fluttering his eyelashes in a pleased embarrassment when he saw me giving him the once over. He gave a jump and a squeak when I had silently removed my shoe and moved my toes along his inner thigh beneath the table, moving further and further towards the crotch area.

I admired that he spent most of the night asking about my work. On occasion I had spied him flipping through the books I had at home, possibly to find any way to gain the upper hand and shock me with his new found knowledge. But I doubted Tim could barely even read some of the words let alone pronounce them to me. All the same, the thought was there.

Now he balanced himself against the bedroom doorway, waiting for me to move towards him swiftly and throw him to the bed and consume him, devour him and ruin him. But I didn't.

Instead I stepped calmly towards him with my arms outstretched. Even when he was confused he obeyed me and stepped into the embrace. My hand came up to card through his hair and I pulled gently on it to tilt his head to the side and expose his neck to me. I kissed it gently and he sighed, resting his head on my shoulder and breathing deeply.

I brought my hands down and held his hips, slowly pressing him to grind against me which he took to with a juvenile excitement. He panted and moaned excitably and looked at me with wide eyed pleasure.

"Mmmmmmm, yes, Ivo," he moaned, his eyes fluttering closed and his cheek brushing against mine in a soft nuzzle.

I guided him gently to lean against the wall in the bedroom and he giggled happily, already one hand at my jeans. I placed my hand over his at the zipper. Gently pulling his hand away and pressing it flat against the wall before doing the same to the other and stepping back from him after a heated, languid kiss. He already had that 'just been shagged' look of bliss to his features but I could detect the longing that was there, the burning need. The desperation.

His hands dropped from the wall and I swiftly moved to place them back on it, his eyebrows furrowing at me in annoyance.

"You will do as you are told," I warned him severely. "Now stay there."

He did but not willingly, his eyes watching me as I left the room and headed to the bathroom. I could imagine his confused features, the narrowed eyes as he tried to understand. He would let out a snort of disbelief as he listened to the sound of me brushing my teeth. But he would not dare move.

I re-entered the bedroom a few minutes later and he smiled sheepishly, hoping I wouldn't have known about his brief moment of lapse when he had scratched his nose before giving a cursory glance to my jeans and trying to piece everything together in his inebriated and puzzled mind. I gave him no reprieve and simply moved to lay on the bed, taking the book from the bedside cabinet and finding my place. I could feel his incredulous stare.

"Ivo?"

"Shush," I said shortly.

He moved towards me from the wall and I looked up at him.

"If you're not back at that wall in five seconds you will regret it."

He could see I wasn't playing and so resumed the position at the wall irritably.

"Just fuck me already," he demanded and I smirked.

"I'm not going to fuck you Tim. You're going to stand there all night."

"What? Why?"

His voice had moved up a third.

"Because I know you did it."

"No I didn't," he replied quickly.

"Did what," I asked, wanting to laugh at the silent opening and closing of his mouth. "Did what Tim? You didn't even know what I was referring to. Except you did, because you did it."

He surprised me by bowing his head.

"I didn't think you would be that annoyed. I didn't mean to make you angry," he said sullenly.

"I needed those papers Tim and you lied to me. Now stand there and be quiet."

I can barely describe how much it turned me on that he actually stood there, quietly accepting the idea that I had a right to punish him for his misdemeanors without any sort of human independence. Part of me loved that he had been shipped off to a boarding school so that my mind could perversely play around with the idea of caning him. The proper teacher and student fantasy.

There was silence except for the sound of my page turning and I could practically feel his resentment building.

"Ivo," he said irritably nearing an hour later. I ignored him and he huffed loudly in an exhale of breathe.

"Ivo, I need to pee," he said crudely and I looked at him.

"Be quick."

I wondered if he had taken up with the notion that if he obeyed he would be rewarded later. The moment he came back from the bathroom he resumed standing at the wall without question, only now with a slight look of defiance. Like he had convinced himself he had made the game up simply so he could play it like he was winning.

I had underestimated him. That became clear when he began to writhe against the wall, tilting his head back and looking at me from under his eyelashes. His chest moved up and down rhythmically and admittedly I was transfixed. He kept his hands to the wall and pressed the rest of his body up against it, moaning wantonly. He knew that I would cave eventually, he was testing me.

I stood from the bed and marched over to him, stopping just in front of him and observing him. He gave a slight grin, believing he had won. I unzipped his jeans and let them pool around his ankles, shoving his hands off me when they touched and caressed me. I placed them back against the cool, flat surface of the wall and Tim whined. He gasped loudly when I gently took him in my hand and touched him, his hips moving towards me. I felt him growing hard and he grinned at me like the devil.

I waited for the moment when I knew he could barely stand it any longer, until I could barely stand it. Then I left to retrieve me jacket from the hall, sliding my arms into it when I came back into the bedroom.

"If you move, I'll know," I hissed into his ear, so close to him. Invading his thoughts and owning his body. I'd never seen quite that look of confused horror on his face before as he realised that not only had he lost the game but also that he would soon lose his mind.

"No, Ivo," he whispered in a panic. "No, you can't! Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he babbled but I only shushed him and pressed a gentle kiss to his parted lips and gave one last squeeze to his crotch. He whimpered pathetically as I left the room, taking my keys and heading straight out the door to the flat. He didn't have to know that I simply sat outside in my car, trying not to think about him shaking and quivering upstairs. I failed miserably.

I thought I had been shocked when he had obeyed me but this had reached a whole new level. I hadn't intended to fall asleep in the car. But sure enough I had woken up when it was light, rushing inside to let Tim know that I hadn't allowed his fears to come true and abandoned him.

I threw open the bedroom door and saw the unmade bed, my heart jolting in panic. I thought he had packed his things and left but a glance to my right proved me wrong. He lay, snoring softly, in a crumpled heap at the base of the wall, his jeans still tangled around his ankles and head snuggled into his arms.

He had whimpered softly when I woke him, stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor and I felt so guilty for tormenting him so cruelly.

"I'm sorry," he babbled over and over as I removed the sultry purple shirt and guided him under the bed covers so that he could sleep somewhere comfortable. He continued to apologise even when I had tried to reassure him. I hated myself for being such a sick individual, preying on this young boy to fulfill my need for control and power. I held him close to me and kissed him obsessively, trying to convey that he had done nothing wrong. I stroked his hair and whispered to him how much he meant to me. He was half asleep and his breathing had slowed as I kissed his cheek.

"You mean everything to me Tim. I'm so sorry."

He gave a soft acknowledgment. Too sleepy to properly formulate a response.

"I love you Tim," I murmured, my lips pressed to his cheek.

"Love you James," he smiled and snuggled into me.

James? Oh God. I wanted to be sick.