Date: Sat, 30 Dec 2017 00:24:28 +0100
From: 8911384@gmx.de
Subject: Tom Has His Way, Part 03

Once again, many thanks for the feedback. I read every single email and can
honestly say that I get as much pleasure out of reading them as I do out of
creating Tom and Will. Now would actually be my first opportunity to answer
some of those emails, but I decided instead to use the time to continue
with Tom and Will; I don't want to keep my boys waiting.

Although there is some description of the two boys' appearances, I try my
best to leave the reader as much room as possible to customise each boy's
looks for maximum reading pleasure. I know that I've read many excellent
stories on Nifty that required a little in-story editing in my mind in
order to remove or modify physical aspects that are a turn-off for me. I
wanted to spare you that.

As always, I welcome ALL(!) feedback. Until now, the feedback has been
positive, without exception. I'll stress once more that I'm interested in
hearing about what you like AND don't like, or how you think the story
could be improved or enhanced... which bits you believe spoil it. I've
always wished that people in Anglo-Saxon cultures weren't quite so
squeamish about giving and receiving (constructive) negative
feedback. Please don't hold back; I live in a culture in which both
positive and negative feedback is gratefully received. People here do not
automatically mistake negative feedback for malicious abuse. So please: if
you find that something could be improved or enhanced, don't hold back. I
can't promise that it will be implemented, but people openly challenging
each other and bouncing ideas off each other is one of the things that
civilisation is all about.

If there's a meticulous, creative, imaginative proof-reader out there who
would like to review the work, I'm open to propositions.

Please refer to the first two chapters to refresh your memory.

And donate to Nifty!



Tom Has His Way 03

As soon as he arrived home, Tom got reading. He read until late into the
night. He was tired and knew that he had to be up for school the next
morning, but his hunger for knowledge was stronger. So he read. And the
more he read, the more he wanted to know.

Unlike World War I, the issue of black and white was a tricky thing to
research. There was rarely an opportunity to verify the sources. His only
option was to check the frequency of the claims made, and some of them were
certainly widespread. Did this increase the likelihood of truth, or was it
merely a sign of rampant wishful thinking?

Tom had been confused and troubled by feelings that were at odds with his
system of values. He had learnt that you couldn't always have what you
wanted, but today's experience with Will at the canal had suggested the
opposite; he was increasingly certain that it was up to him to take Will if
he wanted him. Another thing he had been taught was that it was wrong to
judge and treat people according to their skin colour, yet the physical and
sexual superiority of black men was beginning to seem
unquestionable. Moreover, there was a growing feeling deep down inside Tom
that was forcing its way towards the surface, and he sought to define the
feeling Despite his youth, he was a powerful black boy, man even, who now
felt that he could exert power over Will, despite Will also being
powerful. Will was a strong and powerful boy - but he was a white boy. If
Tom wanted Will for whatever purpose, he could have him. He knew that he
wanted him; he just hadn't figured out yet exactly what it was he wanted
him for. Whatever it was, Tom's confidence that Will would comply was
growing, and Tom sensed what had come to mind in the playground when they
were children: he wanted Will to himself. He knew that the question was no
longer one of IF he could have Will but rather HOW to go about getting
him. And once that was solved, what did he actually want to do with him
once he had him? If today's experience was anything to go by, and if the
information Tom had read so far was to be believed, then any black man with
similar intentions had the straight white men in question at their
disposal.

Tom's common sense challenged his instinct; strong as this feeling may be,
there couldn't possibly be any substance to it. He would have to find
out. So, as always, he read.

Admittedly, it wasn't the first time Tom had read about the supposed
superiority of black men over white men, but an entirely new avenue of this
power structure was opening up before him: the willingness and sometimes
even hidden desire of heterosexual white men to submit to black men, be
they straight or not. Tom found numerous explanations for this phenomenon,
some of which he instantly dismissed. The one that made most sense to him
was a theory based on a primal instinct: deep down, far beyond the
conscious mind, white men sensed the superiority of black men, making
submission the natural and only viable option. Any conscious effort made by
a white man to resist this instinct would create an imbalance that was
counter to human nature. The human-rights violations that whites had
inflicted on blacks in recent centuries along with the subsequent
soul-searching and present-day race sensitivity were examples of the
disruptions caused by such an imbalance. Tom imagined a straight white man
trying to convince himself not to submit to a black man and smiled to
himself, thinking of Will. He wondered if Will would find this a
struggle. The idea of defying your own nature or resisting a natural urge
came to mind, reminding him of stories he'd read about gay people who had
tried to defy their nature, forcing themselves to marry someone of the
opposite sex, sometimes even to have children.

But this clearly wasn't about sex. The white man's urge to submit to black
men was not driven by anything sexual. On the contrary: it defied a
straight man's sexuality. According to the information available to Tom,
the urge was so strong and deep-rooted, and simultaneously well-hidden,
that it was unfathomable to the white man and yet perfectly capable of
messing up that man's image of himself overriding his sexuality - or
hijacking it. As a rule, this did not create a sexual attraction towards
black men but instead disabled the resistance that would normally kick in
when a straight man was approached by another man.

Unlike white men, black men tended to be more aware of this hidden
hierarchy, which enabled them to use it to the white man's detriment. A gay
black man could therefore fulfil any fantasy he may have of making a
straight white man submit to him sexually, or indeed otherwise. This
thought made Tom smile. He had always loved happy endings that involved
disadvantaged people getting their just desserts and maybe even
more. Blacks and gays tended to get a raw deal, so there was something
quite consoling about the idea that a gay black man could flick a switch
and take and enjoy any of the straight white males that took his fancy, all
of whom would normally be unavailable.

When it came to straight black men, things got even more interesting. It
appeared that all straight men got a sexual kick out of being the
alpha. This could occur through acknowledgement and admiration from women,
who were the potential prize. But it could also occur when a man's alpha
status was affirmed and honoured by other aspiring alpha males, i.e. the
competitors. One article that discussed this included a photo showing the
winner of a wrestling match, roaring and punching the air, his foot planted
firmly on the chest of his beaten opponent who lay at his feet. Tom could
relate to this: he would get a sexual kick out of doing that, basking in
his status as alpha. A complete absence of women to witness the scene would
be regrettable but would do nothing to diminish the sensation.

The article concluded that the alpha male had always instrumentalised other
straight men in order to assert his alpha status. Black men were more than
happy to draw on their inherent privilege to demonstrate their physical and
sexual supremacy over white men, to take a white man and strip him of any
aspirations he may have of being an alpha, humiliate him and coerce him
into sexual submission simply in order to rob him of his sexual identity
and, if desired, turn him into a sexual slave - to hold him hostage.

Tom was intrigued. The idea that you would do this simply because you could
was plausible, and he could definitely relate to it. Once again Will came
to mind. Tom scanned his mind and his groin to detect any sexual attraction
for Will, the kind he felt towards girls: to no avail. However, the thought
of having Will obey him greatly appealed to him, as did the thought of
holding Will's sexuality in his hand as something that was Tom's to dispose
of at a whim. Would Tom actually want to do something sexual with Will - or
rather: to him? There was an unmistakable attraction, but it wasn't
sexual. It was the thought of Will being so different, of being Tom's
opposite, that made the thought of taking control over Will so enticing,
including on a sexual level. The fact that this wasn't driven by anything
sexual but by something else, which was able to seek expression through a
sexual channel, confirmed the alpha theory: Tom was an alpha and he would
make Will acknowledge this.

There was more. The physical and sexual advantages of black men were put
down to genetics. However, a degree of this superiority could be shared at
the black man's discretion. When a white man consumed a black man's sweat
or sperm, he could benefit, to a limited extent, from the very substance
(or substances) that put the black man at such an advantage. Tom shook his
head and frowned as he read this, but he read on, simply because he liked
the theory far too much to dismiss it offhand. After reading everything he
could find on this issue, he concluded that the appeal of such a theory was
possibly greater than the need to ascertain the truth behind it. There was
no shortage of accounts both by black and white men, claiming that many a
white man had excelled physically and sexually after regular consumption of
a black man's sweat or sperm. Did the people writing this believe what they
were claiming? Was it merely a placebo effect? Was it a story for gay men
to get off on? Or was there something in it? And did that even matter?
Probably not, Tom thought.

He texted his cousin, Hugh. He had forever looked up to his cousin, who was
now in his mid-twenties, and they had always got on well, despite the age
difference. He knew that Hugh was well read, and he needed to bounce a few
ideas off someone. There were some things he felt less uncomfortable
discussing with his cousin than with his parents. He asked Hugh if they
could meet and talk. Hugh asked if there was anything wrong, and Tom
assured him that all was well. He just had some things in his head and
wanted to swap ideas. That was all Tom was prepared to disclose at this
point, so they arranged for Tom to go over to Hugh's the following day
after school.



On Friday morning Tom got to school just as the bell was ringing. When he
made his way through the main entrance and into the central concourse,
where his locker was located, he immediately spotted Will through the
crowd. He wasn't looking for him; Will just stood out, at least to Tom. It
may be his blond, Nordic looks, but Will wasn't the only blond boy. Will
was undoubtedly attractive, although he wasn't the only attractive boy, and
Tom wasn't really receptive to how good-looking boys were or weren't. Tom
saw that Will was making his way through the crowd, and he looked away
before Will noticed him, which he eventually did. Will often wondered if
others noticed Tom when he entered a space, the way Will did. He didn't
mean the girls, or the handful of crafty boys who would pretend not to be
watching the other boys in the changing rooms. Did other straight boys
constantly find their attention drawn towards Tom, no matter what he was
doing? Will stopped for a moment and watched Tom through the crowd as he
made his way toward his locker and deposited his rucksack. Will made his
way toward him, wanting to ask him if they could meet again after
school. But when he was close enough to see the hair on Tom's muscular arm
as it slammed the locker door shut, he decided against it. He didn't want
Tom to get the wrong idea. After all, in Tom's situation Will would get the
wrong idea, he was sure of that. He walked on past Tom, glad Tom hadn't
noticed him, or so he thought. Tom was fully aware of Will's presence and
had a sudden desire to hold on to him, maybe even intimidate him. He turned
and looked at him from behind.

"Well if it's not Mister First World War Mastermind!"

Will stopped and turned around quickly, blushing. He had wanted to walk
past Tom, but now he was glad that Tom had stopped him. He was even quite
chuffed that Tom had noticed him.

For the first time, Tom realised that it might not be such a good thing
after all that you could see Will blush so easily. There was something so
endearing about it, something so intimate about a defenceless white boy
exposing something so private and revealing so much of his
vulnerability. Will's exposure symbolised the power that Tom had over him,
and Tom felt the stimulation this caused in his groin, once again
confirming his alpha status. But this amounted to Will surrendering
something personal and intimate to Tom, and this put Tom at a loss, so much
so that he feared that Will would pick up on this. Admittedly, Will could
not see the black boy blushing. But Will's blushing wasn't the only way for
Tom to detect the power he had over the boy, so how could he be sure that
Will wouldn't find a way of reading Tom?

Will, on the other hand, was so busy trying to think of something to say
that he didn't notice that anything was amiss.

"Where are you off to?" he asked Tom.

"To French. Like you," Tom answered, frowning.

"Er... yeah," Tim mumbled, blushing again.

"What triggered the First World War?" Tom asked suddenly.

"The assassination of Franz Ferdinand, emperor of Austro-Hungary," Will
answered, glowing at the prospect of pleasing Tom. "He was killed in
Sarajevo."

"Bugger," Tom laughed. "I was going to spank you right here in front of all
these people, but you've saved yourself from that. You're getting good."

"Anything to avoid a spanking," Will laughed nervously. Would Tom really
spank him right here?

The two started making their way to the classroom. Will saw a couple of
people look at the two of them, presumably because people weren't used to
seeing the two boys together. Will felt pride in the fact that people would
think that he was friends with Tom.

"The Perfect," Tom said suddenly.

"What's perfect?" Will asked.

"The Perfect, the tense in French. Le passé composé, mon cher."

"Oh, that. Are they going to be testing us on that today?" Will asked,
looking at Tom anxiously.

"Not today. Next week, I reckon... so you need to know it. Have you
memorised the Mrs Vandertramp verbs?"

"Mrs who?"

"OK, so you haven't. The verbs that take 'être' in the perfect
tense. The first letters of the verbs spell 'Mrs Vandertramp'. They're
usually verbs of movement, and you can put them in pairs of
opposites. Come-go. Leave-arrive. Be born-die. Just remember a homeless
Dutch woman moving verbs around in pairs."

"Tramp... a homeless person. 'Van der' is Dutch. Verbs of movement in
pairs..."

Will turned to look at Tom, who was grinning at him. Damn. Tom liked
him. Will didn't know how he'd done it, but Tom actually seemed to be
making friends with him. Will fantasised about being Tom's best friend,
about everyone knowing that he and Tom were inseparable.

"I need to have another look at that," Will said, trying to stick to the
subject in hand. He was distracted by a couple of older boys automatically
moving aside to let Tom pass. Tom definitely had something in his aura, and
Will even felt that he could smell it. It was the first time he had noticed
the personal scent of another boy or man, at least consciously. Tom's scent
was unmistakable. Will liked it, and that confused him.

He looked back at Tom, who was giving a nod of greeting to someone.

"Sorry. What were we talking about?"

"The Mrs Vandertramp verbs. You wanted to look at..."

"Right. What are you doing after school, Tom?" Bollocks, he hadn't wanted
to ask that.

"I'm meeting my cousin," Tom answered, wondering for just a moment whether
he could or should take Will with him.

Of course, thought Will; how could someone as popular as Tom not have
plans? It was Friday, after all.

When they arrived at the door to the classroom, Tom stepped aside to let
Will through first. Will automatically accepted the gesture but just as
quickly regretted it. There was something about the way Tom let him pass
first that suggested that Tom was being protective of him, the stronger boy
being gallant. Will felt uncomfortable about that, all the more so because
something inside him made him think that Tom most probably could be his
protector. He imagined letting Tom through the door first, but it would
inevitably have been for a different reason: as a mark of respect for this
formidable boy.

Tom followed Will into the room. He liked the fact that Will always wore
shorts. It seemed fitting that a pair of handsome legs like Will's should
be on display, and he admired the fact that Will liked showing them. As
Will walked in front of him, he admired the powerful musculature that was
evidence of Will being on the school football team. He had legs like Frank
Lampard, Tom thought, but the hair on Will's legs was more blond.

The two boys made their way across the classroom. Will wished that he could
sit next to Tom, but once again he didn't want Tom to get the wrong
idea. Tom would have liked to sit next to Will, too; he knew that he need
do no more than suggest it. But as he followed Will across the classroom,
still admiring the blond hair on the footballer boy's muscular legs, he
decided that it would be more prudent to sit elsewhere and observe Will
unseen. Maybe the French teacher would make him squirm the way the history
teacher had done.

As the French lesson progressed, Tom studied the back of Will's neck. He
saw Will's powerful triceps and the light dusting of blond hair on them. As
Will moved around on his seat, his shorts moved up and down his thighs,
sometimes revealing a little more of his legs. At one point he sat with his
legs spread open, which made his entire left thigh visible from where Tom
was sitting. Never in living memory had Tom waited for a chance to get a
good look at a boy's legs, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that
Will's legs were his business. Was anyone else looking at the muscular,
suntanned thigh? The sun streamed in through the window, reflecting in the
blond hair that covered the entire length of Will's left leg. Tom would
have liked to run his fingers through that blond hair. He wondered how
different it would feel to the coarse black hair on his own legs. Maybe he
should have sat next to Will after all. It was better that he hadn't, Tom
concluded. If he had been next to him now, he would have been tempted to
open his own legs and make his right leg touch Will's left leg,
accidentally-on-purpose, just to see what it felt like, to see how much of
the blond boy's leg he could touch with his. If he tried to make their legs
touch along their entire length, Will would be bound to notice. He would
probably find it weird. Tom would definitely find it weird if another boy
tried something like that with him, although he was sure that in his case
no one would dare.

Tom's mind wandered to a vision of sitting Will down on his lap, Will
wearing shorts, very short ones. As they talked, Will's face close to his
and nodding in obedience as he listened, Tom ran his hand up and down
Will's thighs, playing with the beautiful blond hair and grasping the
muscles. Tom would have instructed Will to put those shorts on as he always
had to wear them and display his legs in Tom's presence. That was one of
the rules Tom had imposed on his boy...

"Boy?!" Tom whispered to himself, coming out of his daydream. Will was
not... but he didn't want to follow that train of thought. He had shocked
himself by thinking of Will as his boy, but that didn't mean he was
prepared to go to the other extreme and abandon the idea of making Will his
boy. Tom looked back at Will and his blond thigh, the image of him putting
Will on his lap was proving persistent. Putting Will on his lap could lead
to putting him over his lap in order to spank him, to watch as he left one
red handprint after another on the blond footballer's bottom until it was
crimson and sore. Would he also spank the backs of his thighs or just
concentrate on his bottom? How would Will take it? Would he want to know
why he was being spanked. Tom could tell him that he was spanking him
because he wanted to, no other reason. And Will let him do it, because Tom
had taught him that his bottom and the rest of his body was Tom's property,
which Will accepted. Tom felt aroused. This was getting confusing. He
wouldn't have minded being gay or bi. He would have enjoyed forcing people
to accept it. But he wasn't. He just knew that he wanted Will. He wanted to
make him his, to own him and protect him. He looked again at the sunlit
hair on Will's thigh. Damn. He really needed to talk to Hugh.

"And do all the verbs take 'avoir' in the Perfect? Let's see... Will?"

Tom's mind was dragged back to the lesson when he heard the teacher address
Will. Tom knew all there was to know about the Perfect, but he wasn't going
to miss seeing someone make Will squirm, especially in those shorts.