Self-restraint
Category: Authoritarian
The story is inspired by real life, but written out of my imagination, so I claim copyright to the entire text. This is my first attempt as an active part of nifty. English is not my native language. So enjoy and be kind.
Feedback is always welcome: pennasterone@protonmail.com
It wasn't that Timo didn't know that I was gay. When I came out to him a few months ago, it seemed to leave him pretty cold. We had been friends since high school. Since he had moved to another city for college, we rarely saw each other. To make up for it, I visited him every few months on weekends to go hiking together. He had his own apartment and a girlfriend, Katja, who was abroad for a semester.
Timo was a real nice guy and a good buddy. The only straight guy I was really friends with. We could have profound conversations, but - especially on our tours - we could also keep quiet with each other. In contrast to me, he was a real alpha. Blond, quite muscular and one of the first in the class who had real body hair. He had already belonged to the athletes in school, had played in the baseball team and had taken everything easy. I confessed to him room when we drank a few beers together a few weeks ago that I thought he was pretty sexy back then and that his blond happy trail had made me hot in the locker. Timo found that funny. Otherwise, it didn't seem to change our relationship any more than my coming out or the fact that I had been dating Jonas for two years, a man he didn't particularly like.
This Friday I was visiting Timo. We wanted to eat something in the evening at the Italian restaurant and then make ourselves comfortable on the couch to set off quite early the next morning for a joint tour. While Timo was still sitting at his desk, I went briefly into the bathroom. Hanging over the shower rod was the wet Speedo from his afternoon swim workout. Chlorine smell always made me a bit horny. I took the Speedo and sniffed it. I wanted to know if maybe it had retained a little of Timo's smell - which is of course bullshit for a bathing suit. At the same time I felt safe, since I had locked the bathroom door. But that was a mistake. Apparently the door lock didn't work properly, because at that moment Timo opened the door. "I just need my deodorant..." - with this sentence on his lips he froze for a moment as he noticed me with his swimming trunks in one hand and at the same time noticed that I had my other hand in my trunks. He grabbed me roughly by the arm and shouted "Are you crazy or what?!" Furious, he took the Speedo out of my hand and hurled it into the shower. "Hey, Timo, I'm sorry," I stammered. "I just wanted..."
"What you wanted, I see. Go on, get out of here." I walked over to the room and started to grab my stuff. "What are you doing!!!" he yelled at me. "You were supposed to be out of the bathroom, not anymore. Got it?" Now I was looking at him rather confused. "Sit down on that bed over there. I need to think about this."
Ashamed, I sat down on the edge of the bed in his apartment while he dropped into the only armchair. I didn't dare look at him or even speak. My fear was that with this incident our friendship of many years, which meant a lot to me, would come to an end. After a few minutes of silence, Timo stood up, got a beer from the fridge, sat back in the armchair and took a sip from the bottle.
"Okay, my friend. Apparently you lied to me the other day. You said you had a crush on me in high school."
"Well, I did," I replied meekly.
"Sure, but you didn't tell me that you still do."
I fell silent.
"It's logical that it can't go on like this if I keep thinking you're playing with yourself or thinking up all kinds of perverted things when we're here together or going hiking. You know that yourself, right?"
I was completely unclear what he was getting at or what kind of answer he was expecting.
"Well," I muttered, "it's kind of hard."
"On the other hand, I don't feel like giving up hiking with you just because you're a horny faggot."
Startled, I stared at him. Never before had he used that word or made a derogatory comment about me being gay. But he grinned as he said it. That damn Timo grin of his: wide and confident and somehow brutally nice.
"I'd hate for that to come between us, too," I ventured.
"Good, then we're in agreement. But to do that, you're going to have to learn to control yourself."
"That's what I've been doing for years. And if you hadn't just barged into the bathroom, you wouldn't have noticed anything now either!"
Timo stood up and walked a few steps toward me. Somehow threatening. He grabbed my chin with his right hand. "Not like that, my friend!!! You alone are responsible for your perversities. And there is an end to your lying. Is that clear?!" He continued to hold my chin tightly, so that I could hardly speak and could only hint at even a nod of my head. His voice was firm and serious, as I knew it would be when he was arguing with the waiter or his neighbors. My nod seemed to placate him. Timo let go of me and went back to his chair, from which he kept me in view. He took another hearty sip. And then it happened. As if the weather would suddenly change.
In the same voice and pitch as just now, he said, "Kneel in front of the bed."
In my mind, everything was gone. For some reason, without further thought, I fell into a mode of obedience. Maybe I was hoping it would make me forget the embarrassment of just now. Or maybe it was just something I had wanted for a long time without knowing it myself. In any case, I stood up, turned around, and knelt down in front of the bed so that my back was turned to Timo. He laughed out. "The other way, you faggot. Or do you think I want to fuck you in the ass?"
I hadn't actually thought at all. Possibly he was right that I assumed that's what it might come down to. Ashamed, I stood up once more and knelt down again. This time facing the chair. The jeans I wore with my red and white striped T-shirt chafed my knees slightly.
"Move closer," Timo directed. I continued to move toward his chair, kneeling. When I was still about a foot away, he signaled me with his hand. "Okay, that's enough."
Timo placed the beer bottle on the floor beside him. "Let's see if you can control yourself, then: Put your hands behind your back." I did.
"So you wanted to know what my dick smells like?"
Head shaking.
"Don't fucking lie to me!!!"
"It's alright, man. Yeah, I sniffed your Speedo because I wanted to know."
"And you imagined it in great detail: My dick in my Speedo, my balls, right?!"
I nodded.
"Talk it out, motherfucker! I want to hear it from you."
"Yes, Timo. I imagined your cock and balls moving around in your trunks as you swam."
"And you touched yourself while you were thinking about it."
The term sounded strangely old-fashioned. As if he didn't dare say "jerk off." But it's still true, of course.
Apparently my silence was taking him too long.
"Did you play with your willy while you did it, I want to know?"
"Gee Timo, you saw that."
"I don't want to know what I saw. I want you to tell me what was and what is, understand, you bum?!"
"Got it. Yes. I jerked off to it."
"There you go. It's not that hard, is it?"
He pushed his white T-shirt up a little. And opened the wide belt, which he wore in his jeans, very slowly. The sound of the buckle turned me on.
"And now you will learn to control yourself."
I looked down, embarrassed. But that's when he shoved his foot under my chin.
"After all, if you look away, it's easy. I want you to watch me, got it?"
Lifting my gaze, I saw that he was now unzipping his pants. He was sitting wide-legged in the chair, with his pants open. Underneath he wore gray slip boxers.
"Look closely, faggot."
He shoved his right hand down his pants and very obviously began massaging his cock. I started to feel dizzy. My breathing quickened. Unlike his. Timo seemed to remain completely calm, totally confident and in control.
"So: do you want to see it, my fat dick?" he inquired provocatively. So slowly I thought I understood the game.
"Yes, please, Timo. Show it to me," I begged.
"All right, because it's you." - He took out his uncircumcised cock and slid the slip boxers under his balls. To my amazement, his cock was already completely stiff. Yet the foreskin still covered the glans almost completely. I was mesmerized. So many years I had imagined this cock, many hundreds of times when I had jerked off. But I had never seen it. Not even back then in the school locker room. Timo's cock was actually quite fat and certainly already 7 inches long. But he still seemed to be gaining a little.
Timo took his hand and pulled the foreskin back in slow motion. In doing so, he didn't look down at his penis, but he looked me steadily in the eyes, while at the same time he began to jerk off slowly. Although he must have showered after exercising, a light, inimitable smell emanated from his crotch. A little sweat, urine, musk. Quite automatically, I leaned forward a bit, almost losing my balance in my kneeling position.
"Yes, now you'd like to take it in your mouth, wouldn't you?"
"Please Timo" - I actually almost cried - "let me suck it! You'll get the best blowjob you've ever had. I guarantee it!" My own whimpering repulsed me. But my desire was gigantic.
"Unlike you, I'm not gay, remember? If I want a blowjob, I'll ask Katja." He continued to jerk off slowly, his glans, wet with pre-cum, making soft smacking noises. He obviously enjoyed watching me suffer in my forced passivity.
As if in a trance, I took my hands away behind my back and wanted to put them on his legs. That's when he hissed at me:
"Hands behind your back!!! Control yourself!!!"
I flinched and looked down at the ground, concerned.
"Where are you supposed to look!!!? Watch me, I said!"
Again I stared at his cock and the routine movement of his right hand. His left hand rested casually on his thigh the whole time.
"That you would like to touch it, I know. But what are you imagining now?"
"Nothing at all," I replied. Which was pretty much true, since there was little room left to imagine anything else because of the show. But Timo didn't believe me. He began to stow his member back in his pants. "As you wish. Then that's it. But for good." His voice continued to sound calm and unexcited.
It was working in my head. What did he want? And what did he want to hear now?
"Okay, you've got me. I'm imagining myself licking your cock with pleasure. Of you shoving it down my throat until I gag." He shook his head.
"Oh man, Mats. Is this so fucking hard. Really that hard to say it, what I already know anyway? What everyone sees? Huh?" Now he sounded almost pitiful. And unfortunately, he hit the spot. He knew me better than I cared to.
Relentlessly, he proceeded to zipper his fly back up.
"Stop!", I exclaimed. "It's true: I'm picturing you fucking me, Timo. I´m picturing to be roughly taken by you, to be taken like a girl."
"There you go. I´m pretty sure that Jonas can´t give you such a proper fuck. I would have been surprised, too, if the guy should be able to get it for someone."
I didn't like that he insulted my friend. At the same time, though, I had to silently agree with him. Jonas was anything but a stud. That was fine, but every now and then something was missing.
Casually, Timo opened his jeans again and continued to jerk off as if nothing had happened. At the same slow pace as before. Silently I watched him.
"Can it be that your nipples are all hard? I can see them under your shirt."
"Could be."
"And could it be that you're into it when they're played with? Kind of like a girl, huh?"
"Yeah, they're extremely sensitive on me."
"Do you touch it when you do it to yourself?"
"Almost always," I admitted.
He grinned meanly. "Be nice if someone played with it now, huh?"
I squealed in agony at not being allowed to move. My nipples were sharp as a tack, my cock so hard for so long that it hurt in my pants.
"Remember to keep your hands behind your back."
I thought of nothing else.
And then it was time. Without his breath would have become faster. Only that his piss hole opened a little wider and the slight pulsation on the underside of his cock announced it. Then Timo squirted out three, four fat jolts of cum. He shot it straight up so that it all landed on his white T-shirt. Then he squeezed out one last drop and wiped it off with his shirt. The scent of his sperm rose to my nose. I would have given anything now to be allowed to lick it off his shirt or lick his cock clean. But his look made it clear to me that the game was not over yet.
He casually took off his shirt, crumpled it up and threw it into a corner of the room. He stuffed his still semi-stiff cock back into his pants. Bare-chested, he sat there in front of me. I looked at his well-trained, hairy chest, his strong arms and almost passed out with desire. At the same time my knees hurt more and more.
"Respect, faggot. Wasn't easy for you, I guess."
I looked at him silently expectantly.
"Sit on the bed again."
Groaning, I straightened up and followed his instruction.
"You may jerk off now. But I don't want to see your cock. So jerk it off through your pants."
"Here, in front of you?!", I asked, stunned.
"Self-control is the key word. Remember? You have one minute to cum. And I don't want to hear a sound from you while you do it. Not a sound!"
That was not a suggestion, but a command. Timo grabbed the remote, switched on a soccer game and turned to the TV.
Like a teenager, I kneaded my rock-hard cock through the fabric of my jeans. It certainly didn't take me a minute to come. A tiny "Ah" escaped me in the face of enormous relief. Timo gave me a disparaging, punishing look. I felt like the inside of my pants was completely flooding. I don't know where it all went.
"I told you to be absolutely quiet," he reminded me.
"Sorry!", I said meekly.
"It's okay. Obviously it was a heavy number for you, kiddo."
His understanding and the fact, that he called me "kiddo" touched me strangely. Even stranger was the distance that lay between us in the room, and was apparently consciously maintained by Timo. He stood up now, taking a fresh shirt from his closet. I was still sitting on the bed with damp pants.
"But now on with the program," he said, suddenly cheerful and as I knew him. "Come on, get two pizzas for us."
"Uh...- will be difficult."
I gestured with a motion of my head in the direction of my pants.
"Well, punishment must be." Timo grinned broadly. And he left no doubt that he still meant it completely seriously. Slowly, I stood up and picked up my wallet. "Seriously now, dude?", I inquired.
"Oh, forget it. We'll stay at home and order something," he said gallantly. "But you'll still keep your pants on as punishment. And we clearly need to work on your self-restraint more."