Title: Infinite Loop
	Author: rita (mommacita1@juno.com)
	Series: Part of the "What If?" series
	Rating: NC-17.
	Pairing: P/K.
	Archive: PacKage
	Warnings: Semi-non-consensual sex, dominance
	Disclaimer: Tom & Harry aren't mine, I just like to play with them.
	Summary: Can the infinite loop of humiliation be stopped without destroying
	their relationship or is it too late?

	Tuvok looked placidly at his protege. Harry tried to match his look, but he
	was too exhausted. His tired mind resorted to Asian ritual, not his own,
	but it would do. 'I thank thee, Sensei, for thy lessons in humility and its
	strength.'

	'Thee learns well,' Tuvok thought back approvingly. 'It is time.'

	***

	Tom had come a long way, Chakotay reflected. He would never be the same
	cocky and arrogant flyboy he had been, but his personality had begun to
	emerge again. Chakotay could tick off the milestones: the first time Tom
	hadn't noticeably stopped himself from stripping as he entered their
	quarters, the first time he used the turboflush without waiting to be told,
	returning to light duty - piloting a shuttle solo.

	Gods! Chakotay recalled the tension on the bridge that day. Although none
	of them would admit it, Chakotay was positive the Captain and Tuvok were
	just as uncertain as he was that Tom would return at all, let alone
	complete the survey mission successfully. But he had, and that was followed
	by carefully choreographed shuttle missions with non-threatening (and
	carefully coached) crewmembers like Neelix and Sam Wildman. Then Chakotay
	teamed Tom with B'Elanna, and finally rotated him into the shuttle schedule
	without restriction, except to avoid partnering him with Harry Kim.

	The return to the helm, albeit during Gamma shift, was another step on
	Tom's path to recovery. Quiet though it was, it required both individual
	initiative and cooperative teamwork. Moving Tom to alpha shift seemed
	almost anticlimactic, especially since Harry was working a late-starting
	Beta, with Tuvok ensuring the two wouldn't meet accidentally in the lifts,
	corridors, or mess hall.

	Of course, all the careful planning the Captain and her commanders had done
	to smooth the way for Tom and Harry's first interaction went out the window
	when the Kohl attacked. Senior staff was called to the bridge and,
	inevitably, Tom and Harry not only arrived at the same moment, but
	physically collided running to their stations.

	Harry recovered first. "Sorry," he murmured, carefully holding Tom loosely
	with one hand on his upper arm until he got his balance. "You okay?" The
	bridge crew could almost hear the crackle of static electricity that surged
	between them at that connection.

	Tom could only manage a nod, but before they turned to go to their
	stations, he lightly tapped Harry's shoulder in thanks. The bridge crew
	felt that surge, too, brief though it was.

	After that, there seemed no point in manipulating the crew rotations to
	avoid contact. And now the two former lovers, former friends, former master
	and slave - at least Chakotay hoped it was 'former' - were headed out on
	ore collection together.

	***

	Alone together in a shuttle for five days. It was too close to deja vue.
	Harry drew on all the mental techniques he had learned at Tuvok's hands.
	The problem was he still loved Tom Paris, but now he knew enough to be
	afraid of that love. "I'll monitor the equipment from here," he called from
	the side console. It was as far away physically as he could get and he
	hoped it would be enough. Despite Tuvok's encouragement, he didn't want to
	test his self-mastery.

	Tom nodded and focused on the helm, although, en route, the shuttle
	required almost no guidance. His back crawled with icy fingers of
	anticipation. He didn't trust himself to look at Harry, let alone speak.

	The hours crawled by. Harry had mentally written an entire sonata for flute
	and bagpipes - the most unlikely and difficult exercise he could thing of -
	while trying not to stare at Tom's rigid back. Tom had never turned his
	head, but busied himself manually controlling the shuttle. This couldn't go
	on for five more hours, let alone five days. "Tom."
	
	Tom Paris jumped at the sound of his name in that voice. And wet himself
	for the first time in many weeks. Then, heedless of the affect of his
	action, he collapsed sobbing on the helm console. The sudden banking of the
	shuttle sent him sprawling on the floor and he curled into a protective
	ball.

	Harry rushed to the controls, righting the shuttle and setting it on
	autopilot. Then he turned his attention to his partner. He knew what he
	should do; careful plans had been made for this contingency. He was
	supposed to tranquilize Tom, strap him into the bunk, and keep him sedated
	while he piloted the shuttle back to Voyager. He got the hypospray and
	crouched next to his friend.

	And stopped. If he followed instructions - if he didn't call them 'orders'
	then he wasn't breaking the rules - Tom would be taken off duty, perhaps
	permanently. Their rift, and Tom's psyche, would never be repaired. There
	had to be another way. He closed his eyes and took deep Vulcan cleansing
	breaths. He emptied his mind of bias and subjectivity as best he could. He
	reviewed his alternatives. Involuntarily, his mind found refuge in the
	Vulcan meditative trance to avoid making a decision.

	***

	Tom became aware of the motionless person beside him. The rational part of
	his mind told him it had to be Harry Kim. As minutes passed and nothing
	happened, Tom managed to calm himself and relax his body enough to uncurl -
	how had he gotten onto the floor in the first place? - and look in Harry's
	direction. Harry appeared to be in a trance of some kind. He reminded Tom
	of Chakotay when he communed with his spirit guide. Kind of odd, Tom
	thought, given the apparent situation and the loaded hypospray clutched in
	Harry's hand.

	Tom moved cautiously, not wanting to disturb Harry until he figured out
	what was going on. The movement made him aware of the wetness between his
	legs. 'Shit,' he thought bitterly, 'Proved yourself again, didn't you,
	Paris?' The smell reached him then and he almost succumbed to the
	helplessness, barely keeping himself from retreat into the safety of
	catatonia. 'Hold it together until Harry can take the shuttle,' he told
	himself. 'That's all you need to do.'

	The shuttle! Forgetting his physical state, he jumped up to check the helm,
	breathing a relieved sigh when he saw it was on autopilot and roughly
	on-course for the asteroid field. He made the minor course correction
	required and turned his attention to Harry, taking the hypospray from his
	hand and examining it.

	"Go ahead."

	Harry's voice startled Tom again. He managed to cling to reality this time.
	"What?" he asked, not understanding what Harry was ordering him to do.

	"Go ahead. Inject me. Then you'll be safe."

	Tom followed Harry's gaze to the hypospray. He considered Harry's words and
	slowly shook his head. "That's what you were going to do?" he asked.

	"What I was *supposed* to do," Harry corrected, "if you lost it."

	Tom nodded and wordlessly held out the hypospray. Harry took it, got to his
	feet, and put it back in the medkit. He stayed at the rear of the shuttle.
	"You want to clean up?" he asked.

	Tom nodded and went to the locker, then paused and turned. "Should I ... do
	you ... should I put on dry clothes?" he finally managed.

	"No, I mean, yes. That is," Harry stammered, realizing where Tom's mind had
	come to rest. "That's not what this is about," he stated firmly, coming to
	a decision. "Do you really think the Captain and the commanders would put
	you back in that situation?"

	A ghost of the old Tom Paris emerged. "We *are* here, Harry," he pointed
	out with a rueful smirk.

	"That's because they decided *not* to do anything more - anything to keep
	us away from each other."

	"Yeah. I know. Chakotay explained it all to me. Still," Tom shook his head
	at the irony, "Somebody must have it in for us. I'd almost think Q had a
	hand in this 'coincidence'."

	Harry laughed lightly, then sobered. "Well, even if he did, we're together
	now. We have to decide what to do."

	"Uh, Harry?" Tom interrupted timidly, starting to shiver. "Could I clean up
	and ... change my clothes - I mean, if it's okay that I stay dressed? Or
	could we raise the cabin temperature?"

	"Gods, what am I thinking?! I'm sorry, Tom. I told you, this isn't a
	repeat. Of course clean up and get dressed again. You don't have to ask."

	"'Kay," Tom replied uncertainly. "But we need to ... talk this out right
	away ... if you mean what you said."

	Harry bit down a defensive response and merely nodded and gestured towards
	the turboflush.

	***

	Harry was still at the lockers in the rear of the shuttle when Tom emerged.
	Tom shoved his soiled clothes into his locker, wiped down the pilot's seat
	with the towel he'd brought out, tossing it in the general direction of the
	refresher when he was done, and sat down again, turning to face Harry with
	some trepidation.

	Out of habit, Harry picked up the used towel and put it in the refresher.
	Then he sat back at the side console and faced Tom. "Too close?" he asked.

	Tom shook his head no.

	"Ready to talk about what we can do?"

	Tom shook his head no again, but a smile quirked his lips. "When have I
	ever been ready to have a serious discussion?" he asked. "You start."

	The smile didn't reach Tom's eyes - he had to struggle to keep it on his
	lips - and only decades of practice kept him from breaking down entirely,
	but Harry made his experienced eye ignore the signs of distress. "Okay." It
	was his turn to smile. "I'm probably going to sound like Tuvok here - he's
	been pretty much my constant companion lately."

	"As long as I don't start sounding like the Big Indian, I think we're
	okay," Tom replied lightly, then gestured for Harry to continue.

	"Right." Harry took a deep, calming breath. "Let's list the alternatives.
	One, we can turn around and return to Voyager. Two, we can work out shifts
	so we're not both awake at the same time until we get to the collection
	site, and you can control the privacy screen."

	Tom interrupted to ask, "Why me?"

	"Because that will let you control my ... access to you and you may need
	that control," Harry said simply and returned to listing options. "Three,"
	he hesitated for a moment then reached a decision. "I guess I don't have a
	'three'."

	"Three," said Tom, knowing his friend too well to let that pass, "we can
	try to work through this while we have the chance."

	"You want to?" Harry asked, searching Tom's face.

	Tom's eyes skittered around the shuttle, looking anywhere but at Harry.
	"It's a good thing for me that you got stuck with Tuvok," he finally said,
	seeming to change the subject entirely. "I can fool Chakotay. Do you know
	how I get through the day? I listen to your voice in my head telling me
	what to do. Whether it's 'don't take your clothes off' or 'use the head
	now' or 'act normal on the bridge' - it's your voice telling me what to
	do." The self-deprecating smile ghosted across his face again. "I'm not
	quite schizophrenic enough for that to work when you're actually here with
	me though." His face and voice lost all expression. "So, in reality, option
	two won't work. I'll never put the screen up and I'll lose it every time
	you make a noise. Option one is the logical choice. And as good Starfleet
	officers, we should report this conversation. Then I can be relieved of
	duty permanently so I won't endanger myself or others." His voice cracked
	and he paused to calm himself, continuing in a hoarse whisper. "Option
	three doesn't really exist. But I wish it did. I miss you so much. If it
	were up to me, I'd rather go back to the way we were - even at the end -
	than ... than this."

	Harry was too stunned by this confession, presenting him with a clear
	picture of just how much damage he had done, to reply. Tom took this as
	agreement with his assessment. He used the last of his tight self-control
	to continue. "Can I ... I'd just like ... to make a suggestion - then I'll
	do whatever you want. Lock me behind the privacy screen until we land on
	Voyager. I'll program in the course for you. That way I'll be out of sight,
	out of mind - I won't be a temptation. That is, unless you want to go back
	to the way it was..."

	"No!" Harry was aghast that Tom could even suggest such a thing. He moved
	forward and came to his knees in front of Tom, catching his chin to force
	their eyes to meet. He felt Tom shudder. "I need you, Tom. I love you. But
	I need you to be able to say 'no' to me, to refuse when I want you to do
	something ... wrong, humiliating, whatever. To be able to protect yourself
	from me." He let go of Tom's chin, but Tom's eyes remained locked to his.
	"I didn't offer to work through this because I didn't think you wanted to.
	But if we both want to try, this may be the only chance we get."

	"Tell me what to do," Tom breathed, then held up a hand to forestall
	Harry's protest. "Work with me, Harry," he begged. "You have to - *we* have
	to - start somewhere. For now," he paused, thinking things through, testing
	his responses to hypothetical situations. "For now, I can try to keep doing
	what Chakotay taught me?" He hadn't meant to make it a question, he thought
	ruefully.

	"Tell me what you want, Tom. What ... what did you mean by you wanted to go
	back to the way it was?"

	There was silence in the shuttle as Tom tried to organize his thought
	before speaking. He knew he had to get it exactly right. Finally he nodded
	to himself and began in a low voice. "I like - liked - our relationship
	with you calling the shots in private. It put us on, well, equal footing. I
	liked it when I had choices. It was when there were no more choices and you
	- we - brought it outside our quarters that, that it wasn't..." he
	squirmed, uncomfortably close to losing control again, "That it wasn't what
	I wanted anymore. But by then I couldn't tell you. I couldn't say no and I
	couldn't walk away." He shrugged apologetically.

	"Can you say no to me now?" Harry asked, concerned. "If you can't, if you
	can't protect yourself..." He let the sentence hang.

	"I don't know," Tom whispered.

	There was silence for a while, then Harry urged him to continue. "Tell me
	what you liked and didn't like. We need to start somewhere."

	"I liked having to be naked. I didn't like," he shuddered, "the water
	pump." Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Tom's eyelids began to
	droop. The emotional roller coaster of the day had taken its toll and he
	was exhausted.

	"Bed," Harry said and Tom nodded gratefully.

	Harry didn't move as Tom went to the back and stripped. Tom looked over his
	shoulder, waiting for Harry's nod of approval before lying on his side
	facing the wall. When Harry joined him, Tom's eyes were closed, but he was
	trembling. Harry spooned behind him, unable to prevent the erection that
	sprang into life at their closeness. Tom stiffened and seemed to stop
	breathing. "Nothing tonight," Harry promised, wrapping his arms loosely
	around Tom and kissing the back of his neck gently.

	When nothing followed the kiss, Tom relaxed minutely, only to shudder again
	as thoughts of what the morning might bring assailed him. The images
	weren't entirely negative, however, and his penis reacted accordingly.

	Harry smiled into Tom's neck when he felt the nudge of anticipation against
	his hand. "Sleep," he murmured, trying to ignore both of their needs.
	Eventually both men relaxed into sleep.

	***

	They spent the next day determining limits. Harry's frustration at Tom's
	inability to refuse his orders grew as the day passed. "You have to tell
	me," he insisted as Tom uncurled from the fetal ball he had rolled into and
	forced his eyes to meet Harry's. He was taking longer to come out of it
	each time.

	"Can't," he whispered, tensing for a blow.

	But Harry merely shook his head, maintaining his distance. "Get dressed,
	Tom," he said in a tired voice.

	To Harry's surprise, Tom didn't move. He stared at Harry for several
	seconds, tears coursing down his cheeks, before finally whispering,
	"Please, Harry, don't give up."

	After another long silence, Harry nodded. "Clean yourself up, then," he
	ordered gruffly. But as Tom crawled away towards the turboflush, the sight
	of his raised buttocks was too inviting to resist. "Stop," Harry ordered
	and Tom froze in place. Harry approached him, scooping up the unused dildo
	as he passed it.

	Harry caressed Tom's buttocks and Tom pushed back against the warm hand,
	shivering slightly, but not from fear or pain. "You can't tell me when I'm
	going too far," Harry said and Tom shook his head in confirmation. "And you
	can't tell me 'no' or 'stop'." Another confirming headshake. "But you *can*
	make a choice among alternatives."

	Tom was rocking slightly to increase the stimulation of Harry's hand. He
	hesitated at Harry's last words, then pushed back against the palm firmly.
	"I like choices. I can *do* choices." He was now rubbing Harry's palm,
	which had stilled.

	Harry looked thoughtfully at the dildo in his free hand. "Okay, then.
	Here's the choice: either you use the dildo on yourself while I clean you
	up or you clean yourself up and then I use the dildo on you." 'Please pick
	the first one, Tom,' Harry begged silently. He had teetered on the edge of
	forgetting Tom's humanity several times already, barely pulling back this
	last time when Tom went passive under him. He needed Tom to control him
	even as he controlled Tom.

	Tom shuddered and whimpered. Harry took a half-step back, expecting a
	stream of urine. Maybe, despite Tom's words, he couldn't make choices like
	that. But after a moment, Tom turned and reached silently for the dildo.
	Harry caught a glimpse of long hardness that reassured him. "Put it in
	while I get some cloths," he said, putting the dildo in Tom's hand. He
	waited while Tom closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. When Tom lay
	down on his side and reached around to obey, Harry forced himself his feet,
	moving to keep his part of the agreement.

	Cleaning Tom while Tom fucked himself was amazingly erotic. Harry took his
	time with the warm wet cloths and the soft dry ones. He realized that while
	he was doing this for Tom, comforting and cleaning him, he had no trouble
	remembering Tom was his beloved, not an object to be used.

	Setting aside the cloths, Harry positioned himself so his engorged organ
	was at Tom's head, then stopped short before ordering Tom to suck him.
	'Choices,' he reminded himself. "Tom," he called softly to get his
	attention. He waited until Tom's eyes opened and the glaze dissipated into
	focused attention. "You can suck me and I'll take over the dildo or you can
	keep on with what you're doing and I'll bring myself off."

	Harry's position was enough to let Tom know Harry would be shooting into
	his face. The pulsing rod in front of him told him Harry was close. Tom
	stilled his own body and reached for Harry, opening his mouth to receive
	him, sucking him in then nipping and licking as Harry moaned in
	appreciation.

	For his part, Harry took the end of the dildo in hand and matched Tom's
	oral rhythm, until his orgasm overtook him. He matched the thrust of his
	cock down Tom's throat with a rough thrust of the dildo into Tom's ass
	before letting go.

	Tom took all of Harry's length and swallowed convulsively, his rectal
	sphincter contracting along with his throat. As Harry lay panting, Tom
	licked his lover clean, ending with a soft kiss against the deflated organ.

	Recovering, Harry swung himself around to kiss Tom and taste himself on
	Tom's lips and tongue. He stretched himself full length against Tom,
	feeling the other man's hard need. Harry reached for the dildo, whispering,
	"Shall I take it out or continue?"

	Tom moaned into Harry's mouth, unable to answer for a moment. Then he
	managed, "Continue," before succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure of
	having Harry lying against him.

	Harry hadn't remembered the joy that pleasuring his lover could bring. His
	cock stirred between them as Tom writhed and thrusted, continuously moaning
	and whimpering, open-mouthed. Harry pulled back slightly to watch Tom's
	face, realizing he was getting as much out of Tom's responses now as he had
	out of eliciting similar responses through pain and fear. He was so deep in
	his thoughts that it took him several moments to process Tom's words when
	the moans became coherent.

	"Please, Harry. Please let me cum. Please, I'll ... I'll clean up
	everything - oh, Gods! I'll do whatever you want. Please!" Tom was getting
	more frantic as the seconds dragged on and Harry didn't respond. An edge of
	panic entered his voice when he realized he was about to lose control, but
	he was so far gone that even the terror of the consequences of climaxing
	without permission didn't bring him back from the edge.

	Finally Harry whispered, "Cum for me, baby. Cum now."

	And, without having been touched, Tom's organ exploded, shooting onto both
	men's bodies.

	***

	They were on their way back to Voyager, going a little slower towing the
	ore, and Tom was naked once again. Harry had insisted that during the
	actual work of ore collection Tom be dressed. Harry simply couldn't
	concentrate on the task otherwise. They had made lazy love for two nights,
	both too tired to take on roles, but too needy after their long separation
	to do without each other.

	Now Harry sat stroking Tom's outstretched body as Tom lay drowsing on the
	bunk. He felt more confident now, especially since they had discovered that
	Tom could exercise some control over the situation through choices. But Tom
	still initiated nothing. Harry knew Tom was enjoying himself, but it wasn't
	enough. Harry looked speculatively at his relaxed lover. "Tom?"

	"Hmm?" Harry was pleased that Tom didn't stiffen or shiver at his voice.

	"Tell me what *you* want."

	Tom blinked into alertness. 'What *I* want?' he thought. 'I don't think
	Harry *ever* asked me that. I just took what I wanted until...' Tom became
	aware that Harry was leaning over to look in his face, a concerned
	expression etched on his own. He looked up into the warm brown eyes.
	"Really?" he asked. Harry nodded. Tom snuggled into his lover. "Fill me,"
	he said, keeping eye contact. "Fill my bladder then fill me with you."

	"You're sure?" Harry asked, surprised that he got any answer, let alone
	this one.

	"Mm, hmm. I want the edge of being barely in control - and I want you
	inside me."

	"I'll ... I'll replicate a bottle," Harry stammered, scrambling from the
	bed as his cock did a joyful dance inside his suddenly too-tight trousers.
	Tom nodded, smiling, and reached for his own cock, pausing with his hand
	hovering over it. "Yes, Tom," Harry agreed with the unspoken suggestion.
	"Bring yourself to the edge that way, too. Oh, yes."

	***

	A deliciously torturous time later, Tom lay sucking on the final bottle
	while Harry carefully prepared him for entry. Suddenly he felt his balls
	tighten. He whimpered around the nipple, "Harry?"

	Harry stilled his questing fingers and appraised the situation. He said
	"Not yet, Tom. Not until after *I'm* done. If I decide you've been good
	enough." Although the words and tone were in keeping with his role as
	Master, he was ready to back off and comfort rather than punish.

	Tom's cock pulsed dangerously at Harry's words before Tom visibly brought
	himself under control. He kept stroking himself - more carefully now - but
	before he resumed sucking, he said, "Oh, yes, Harry. Yes."

	Harry was fist-fucking Tom gently by the time the bottle was done. He
	pulled himself around without removing his hand and presented his full cock
	to Tom. "Now suck me," he directed.

	Tom's eyes were glazed, but he managed a grin before enveloping the organ
	with his warm, wet mouth. He sucked vigorously until Harry ordered him to
	stop everything. Harry started to position them, then stopped. "Where?" he
	rasped, hoping Tom would understand he was leaving it to him.

	"Floor," Tom responded, his voice equally husky. He positioned himself on
	hands and knees, head down. Harry hesitated. Tom raised his head and
	reassured his lover. "I need this, Harry. I want it this way. And rough. My
	choice."

	Harry nodded once and scrambled into position, thrusting in immediately
	until his balls banged Tom's rear cheeks. Giving Tom no time to adjust, he
	began riding him hard and wild, driving Tom down onto his elbows, holding
	his hips up in a bruising grip with his nails digging into Tom's flesh.

	It was over quickly. Harry collapsed onto Tom's back, forcing the blond
	flat. When he could, he rolled off Tom and came to his feet. Tom remained
	where he was, head turned and blue eyes meeting brown steadily, although he
	was panting heavily.

	Harry nudged Tom onto his back with his foot and gazed approvingly at the
	tumescent organ pulsing at almost ninety degrees to Tom's body. Tom watched
	him silently. "Cum now," Harry ordered. With a shudder of release, Tom
	obeyed.

	The world greyed as Tom finally released his tight control. When he came
	back to awareness, he felt a warm tongue lapping at his stomach. Raising
	his head, he watched in amazement as Harry cleaned him.

	Finishing, Harry leaned over to let Tom taste himself on Harry's lips. Then
	he lay back and stroked Tom's chest. "Why?" he asked.

	"I needed to know," Tom said after a brief silence to organize his
	thoughts. "I needed to know that you could control yourself and that I
	could ride out some rough handling without losing it."

	"What if I hadn't been able to - or you?"

	"We're almost home," Tom pointed out. "They would have sorted it out." He
	paused. "I'm glad you asked me. I couldn't volunteer it, but I wanted to
	know now, before we got back."

	Harry nodded. "And?"

	"It's ... good. You stayed in control, but you ... you still cared about
	me." He paused and grinned. "And I did more than ride it out. I enjoyed it
	- I wasn't sure I could get back to that place again, but I did. We did."

	"What now?"

	"Well, now we have to explain the replicator usage - better let me handle
	that," Tom added at Harry's grimace. "And then, well, it's up to you. I'm
	game, but it's up to you. It has to be."

	***

	Harry walked into his quarters and into pitch blackness. "Computer, lights,
	50%," he ordered.

	"They won't work, Harry."

	"Tom - *Tom*?"

	"Computer, lights 25%." Tom knelt naked in front of Harry.

	"But, I thought -"

	"You thought you had to make all the moves?"

	"Yes." Harry voice was a mere whisper.

	Tom began trembling, trying to remember that Harry wouldn't hurt him. "I
	wanted to surprise you." In a low voice he continued, "And there's
	something I got wrong."

	"What?"

	"Something I said I didn't like. But maybe it was just that I needed to
	work up to it." Harry had time to notice that Tom was wearing a cock ring.
	Tom followed Harry's gaze. "I never said I didn't like this. But only in
	private. And off-duty," he said firmly. Harry nodded.

	Still on his knees, Tom turned away from Harry. As he bent to reach for
	something behind him, Harry saw the butt plug, too. He bit his lip to keep
	from coming on the spot. Then Tom turned and Harry saw what he held.

	"I'm ready for this now," Tom whispered, placing the water pump into
	Harry's hands and unbuckling the cock ring in preparation.

	Then Harry did cum in his pants.

	Knowing he would be punished for causing Harry to lose control, Tom wet
	himself.

	End