Date: Mon, 09 Jan 2023 14:08:10 +0000
From: pennasterone <pennasterone@protonmail.com>
Subject: Self-restraint, Part 1 (Authoritarian. M/M, humiliation, j/o)

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."