Date: Tue, 30 Aug 2011 19:21:23 -0800
From: samwise@inbox.com
Subject: Daring Timmy

This is a prequel to A Stroll down the Block, Nifty YF, 27 Aug 2011
http://www.nifty.org//nifty/gay/young-friends/a-stroll-down-the-block


"So you want to play Dares," Mike said, picking up a slice from Luigi's
Sovrapprezzato Pizza. "We've played in groups, but never one-on-one. Are
you sure?"

Timmy looked at his 13-yo cousin, whose short brown hair, blue eyes, and
Harry Potter-style round glasses had a slightly owlish air. Everybody said
Mike was very smart, but Timmy thought him arrogant and overrated. A year
and a week of age difference had left him quite underwhelmed.

"Yeah, why not. You get naked."

"Effective if unimaginative," Mike said as he set down his slice. He stood
up, pulled off his light grey t-shirt, unsnapped, unzipped and dropped his
khaki shorts. No underwear, as Timmy already knew; Mike's nerdiness was
largely a pose. Mike was about 5'6", biggish build, with a reasonable
crotch equipment and enough hair for his age. He was hard, of
course. Hereinafter it may be assumed that they are hard unless otherwise
specified (these are 12-or-so-yo boys, after all.) He sat down, ate two
bites of pizza, took a sip of Coke, then said, "You will do the same, then
you will stand on your left foot, and reach over your head with your right
hand and grasp the top of your left ear, until further orders."

Shaking his head a little in puzzlement, Timmy did as instructed. The view
was of a wonderfully pretty boy about 5'2", with a slim but not skinny
build and some nice new hair on his groin, obviously on the cusp of great
things. He said, "So?"

Mike nodded. "The 'reach over the top and grasp the ear' is an informal
test of reading readiness used in kindergartens. You can learn to read,
appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Now sit down and finish your
dinner while you contemplate your next masterful move."

"You will finish that can of Coke," Timmy said in a flat tone of authority,
"and you will refill the can with water. You will drink a can of water
every five minutes until I give you permission to stop. You will not piss
until I give you permission to piss. You will beg for that
permission. Further instructions will follow."

"Well," said Mike, "the little gerbil has teeth." He drained his coke can
and filled it with water.

Almost an hour passed before Mike's seemingly bottomless bladder failed
him. He obtained permission to piss by begging on his knees, then kissing
first Timmy's left big toe and then the tip of his dick. Timmy provided a
green plastic bucket for the pissing, into which Mike was first required to
put what Timmy called "your Harry fucking Potter glasses", which Mike was
obliged to piss on.

Timmy had a question: "You know 'The Sound of Music' don't you? The lyrics
to 'I feel pretty'?" Mike nodded in the affirmative.  Accordingly, he was
obliged to pluck his glasses from the bucket of piss, to which Timmy had
generously contributed, put them on, still dripping, empty the bucket over
his head (the festivities had been moved outdoors) place the bucket upside
down on top of his head ("like a crown"), and dance, while singing "I feel
pretty." As a last-minute act of mercy, the performance was limited to the
first verse. Mike was then permitted to shower, though not to don clothing.

Since it was now his turn, Mike retrieved his black leather backpack and
drew from it a purple bootlace. He handed it to Timmy, saying, "Your
favorite color, I believe. You will tie this on, three good, tight loops
and a pretty bow. You know how to do this; I've heard plenty of stories
about you. I, however, will not touch you. You will do this to
yourself. You will play with yourself, until you get frantically
aroused. As you know, it is all but impossible to ejaculate with one of
these things on. You will beg for permission to remove it. Until you
surrender, that permission will be denied for longer than you can
believe. Do it now."

It went on for a time nobody counted on a clock. With the purple bootlace
firmly bound around the base of his genitals, Timmy played with himself,
growing quickly so aroused that it was ecstatically pleasurable and
brutally painful.  He begged, often and ever more loudly, to be allowed to
release himself without surrendering, to which Mike's only answer was
silence.

Mike mused on why Timmy was allowing this to happen to himself. His theory
was that it was a matter of vanity or, more pretentiously expressed,
honor. Timmy had accepted the dare, knowing what would happen. If he backed
out now, Mike could tell all their friends, "Timmy failed on a dare." No
one would ask what the dare was. Since Timmy had failed, his failure was
all that mattered.

Finally, Timmy surrendered. He and Mike walked out to the front porch,
where, with the porch light on and the security camera capturing every
detail, Timmy underwent a final humiliation and then was permitted to untie
the purple bootlace. His relief was fervent and very noisy, and captured on
the audio recorder in the backpack Mike had casually brought along. Timmy
had not noticed that detail, since his attention was elsewhere, as it had
been from the beginning while the recorder had been running. Back indoors,
Mike made rather of a production of opening his 54+1 steps Japanese puzzle
box and putting the security camera memory stick inside, before securely
closing it.

"Now let's get dressed, while you scheme your next historic victory," Mike
said, handing Timmy a pair of shiny purple gym shorts, then putting on a
pair of boring blue ones himself. They were both commando. Timmy's initial
reaction to the color of his shorts was a moue of distaste, but he forgot
that and was soon hard again.