Addiction
In the city center, I see them standing there, the tough guys. Ryan and Ricardo are laughing, roughhousing with each other. Matteo watches it all with a superior indifference. He’s leaning against a wall, arms crossed, one leg tucked up.
When Ryan sees me, he briefly releases Ricardo from his hold. Ricardo, in turn, stares at me intensely for a moment. Was that a longing, horny look I saw there? I look at the boys. Matteo greets me with a minuscule nod. I don’t return the greeting but quicken my pace to get out of their sight as fast as possible.
It’s going to get harder and harder to run into the guys in real life. In the “Second Chance,” I kneel before the ideal version of them. I kiss their feet, lick their asses, worship their cocks and balls. Here, in the open world, the “real” world, they’re just three macho guys. Here, I barely dare to look at them.
Seeing the guys in real life almost hurts. I’m going to “Second Chance” more often, not just for the hot sessions, but also to ease this pain; even though I know the sessions only make the pain outside worse. Still, I can’t stop myself.
I’m ashamed of my own cowardice. Maybe Matteo should give me another good spanking on my bare ass to punish me for it. I get hard again at the thought.
I push the horny feeling away. This leads to nowhere; it’s pointless. The sweet, rich scent of freshly baked stroopwafels distracts me. As I join the line at the stroopwafel stand, Jeroen greets me.
“Hi, Luuk.”
The boy is usually very introverted; it’s not like him to start a conversation.
“Hey Jeroen,” I say, grateful for another distraction.
There’s a long silence between us. Still, I can tell Jeroen wants to ask me something but can't quite get it out.
“How are you?” I try.
“Fine.”
"Just 'Fine'?" My voice comes out a little too skeptical.
Jeroen looks uncomfortable, is silent again for a moment, but then clears his throat.
“You’re friends with Lars, aren’t you?” His voice is soft and uncertain.
“We know each other. We have a beer together from time to time,” I say.
It’s Jeroen’s turn to order; he orders a giant stroopwafel. I decide to order one as well, when it’s my turn to order, after him.
“Why don’t you come with me to the park,” I say, “so we can eat our stroopwafels in peace.”
Jeroen nods, and we walk together to the nearby park, where we sit down on a bench. We quietly enjoy our stroopwafels.
“Why did you ask about Lars?”
Jeroen blushes slightly and pauses for a moment before answering. “Lars is really nice to me… one of the few.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “He protects me from Matteo’s gang.”
“And?”
Again, Jeroen is silent for a long time. “I wonder why.”
“Because he’s just a good guy, you think?” I ask.
“I wonder if he’d want to be friends.”
I think about what Lars said in the store about Jeroen. “I think Lars would really like that.”
“Do you think so?” Jeroen asks hopefully.
“I’m sure of it.”
Jeroen is silent but is clearly pleased with my answer.
“Does Matteo still bully you a lot?” he asks after a while.
I feel a smile spreading across my face. “It’s gotten a lot better lately.”
Jeroen nods. “He seems different these past few days,” he says, looking me straight in the eye. “I enjoy talking to you for a bit.” He looks away again and then asks softly, “Would you like to put in a good word for me with Lars?”
“I don’t think you need that; Lars likes you. But I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, Luuk. See you Monday.”
I stay seated on the bench for a moment after Jeroen leaves and consider whether I still want to go to “The Second Chance” for a session. Why don’t I just tell the real Matteo what I want? I could kick myself. No, of course I can’t do that; I’d get a whole different kind of beating than a hot spanking on my ass. Guess I’ll just go back to the store then…
#
“Did you have a good session?” Karol asks as I hand my leather pants back to him. My ass cheeks are still burning fiercely from the firm punishment Matteo gave me because I didn’t dare greet the real Matteo. The punishment for my cowardice. The punishment I craved myself.
That’s kind of the problem: Matteo set my ass on fire, exactly as I wanted. The guys fucked me hard from both sides; exactly how I like it. The taste of Matteo’s cum still lingers in my mouth, exactly as I want it. I am the director of these sessions. The sessions are hot. Definitely. Really hot. But still, after every session, they become a little emptier, more predictable.
“It was good,” I say flatly.
Karol looks at me questioningly.
I don’t know what to say.
“When was the last time a session surprised you?” he asks.
The doorbell rings. Lars walks in. “Hey Luuk!” he calls out cheerfully. “Did you just finish your session, or do you still have to go?”
I rub my butt and pull an exaggeratedly pained face. “Matteo just gave me a merciless spanking.”
“You must have needed it,” Lars laughs.
“That’s true,” I say, gritting my teeth. “By the way, I ran into Jeroen downtown today.”
“Oh?” Lars is immediately interested.
“He wants me to put in a good word for him with you… So here goes.”
“What does he want?”
“He says he wants to be friends with you.”
Lars’s eyes lit up. “I came here for a session, but to be honest, I have something else to do right now.”
He walks over to Karol, “Sorry, Karol, I’ve changed my mind. No session with Jeroen today.”
Karol flashes a broad smile. “No problem at all.” He puts away the leather bracelet he’d already picked out for Lars. “Go catch up with your guy,” he adds.
“Thanks, Luuk,” Lars says before heading out the door again.
The heat in my ass feels good, but it can’t possibly fill the emptiness I feel.
#
Monday morning. Coffee break. Matteo, Ricardo, and Ryan are hanging out in their usual spot in the hallway. The younger boys walk past nervously. They expect a hateful, snide remark, waiting for the leg-tripping, the head-butting. But nothing happens. The potential victims walk on, glance back briefly, then speed up.
I stay put.
Matteo and his boys are calm. Tough and commanding, sure. But calm.
He sees me. Looks me straight in the eye. Not aggressively, but dominantly and intensely. His gaze holds me captive. But fear makes me look away anyway. This is way too hot.
My ass is still sore from the spanking I got from the store-Matteo. Matteo’s real hand… What would that feel like? A deep longing settles in my gut.
As I look away, my gaze meets Lars’s. He saw this too. Jeroen is standing next to him. I’ve never seen that kid look so happy and in love.
Lars looks at me questioningly. There seems to be a hint of reproach in his gaze. But before anything can be said, Jeroen is already rushing toward me. “Luuk! Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” I say with feigned cheerfulness, “but my ‘good word’ wasn’t needed at all.”
“No,” says Lars, “it was needed. I’m glad you told me.” He looks down at Jeroen with love in his eyes. I feel a sour taste in my mouth.
Lars glances briefly in Matteo’s direction and then back at me. “We need to talk,” he says, “soon.”
#
Lars opens the door right after I ring the bell. As if he’d been waiting. He’s wearing his leather pants. They look cool on him. As time passes, he seems to grow increasingly confident.
His room is as always: tidy, bright, orderly. Jeroen is sitting on the couch, his legs tucked under him, a mug of tea in his hands. He’s beaming. He’s been doing that a lot lately, but tonight it’s almost distracting.
“Luuk!” he says happily. “Lars already told me you were coming.”
“Yeah.” I sit down. “Here I am.”
Lars sets a mug down in front of me without asking if I want tea. I don’t want tea, but I take it anyway.
Lars glances at Jeroen. “Give us a moment.”
Jeroen nods and sets his mug down. He stands up.
"No," I say.
They both look at me.
It takes some effort to stand my ground, but I do it anyway. “He can stay.”
Lars looks at me for a moment. “Are you sure?”
I don’t answer.
He leans back. “All right then, it’s your decision.”
Jeroen sits back down. He tucks his legs under him again, picks up his mug, says nothing. But I can tell he understands this is a personal matter.
I realize I’ve maneuvered myself into a difficult position. Does Jeroen already know that Lars and I are aware of his submissive fantasies? But I’m fed up. I don’t want to hide from Lars or Jeroen anymore.
“Jeroen,” Lars says, “Luuk knows about you.”
Jeroen looks at Lars questioningly.
“Luuk knows that I’m a Master… and that you’re a sub.”
“Oh?” Jeroen says softly and blushes.
I want to reassure Jeroen as quickly as possible. “I’m a sub too,” I decide to turn it up a notch, “a slut, I want to submit to a Master.”
Jeroen smiles at first but then looks worriedly at Lars.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Lars says a bit authoritatively, “Luuk and I are just friends. I’m your Master and only yours.”
Jeroen looks relieved.
“Great, then I don’t have to pretend either.” Jeroen lowers his eyes to Lars, “Sir.”
Jeroen clearly wants to ask me something, but remains silent and looks questioningly at Lars, his Master.
“You may speak freely,” he says briefly.
“Thank you, Sir.”
I can’t help it; I feel admiration and joy for what Lars and Jeroen now share.
“What did you want to ask me, Jeroen?”
“Why didn’t you want Lars as your Master, since you’re a sub anyway? You knew about Lars before I did.”
“Lars is a very good friend. And I have no doubt that he’s a good Master… But then again,” I shrug, “sometimes the chemistry just isn’t there.”
Jeroen looks at me as if he can’t believe me. “Is there anyone with whom that chemistry is there?”
“I think that’s why I’m here with Lars tonight.” I hesitate to continue.
Lars gives me an encouraging nod.
“Matteo,” I say, “I’d like to kneel for Matteo.”
Jeroen now looks at me as if he’s seen a ghost. “Matteo? That bully?”
“Yes, him,” I say, a little embarrassed.
“He’s bullying a lot less now,” Lars says, “there’s really been an improvement.”
“Matteo…” says Jeroen, “I can’t imagine that…”
Before he can finish his sentence, Lars warns him, “Jeroen,” he says in a deep voice.
“Yes, sir.” Jeroen lowers his eyes.
It looks cute.
“I understand your point, Jeroen,” I say, “unfortunately, we often don’t have a say in what our desires are.”
Jeroen nods understandingly.
“I think Matteo has his own desires too,” Lars said, “He looked at you in a very dominant way, earlier today.”
I nod.
“That wasn’t bullying, Luuk, that was an invitation from him to you.”
I swallow.
“And yet you decided to look away. To turn down the invitation.”
“I didn’t dare,” I say honestly.
“I understand that,” says Jeroen, “Matteo may have changed,” he turns his gaze to Lars, “but he’s still nowhere near where my Master is.”
I sigh and look at Lars, “What do you think I should have done?”
“At the very least, don’t look away.”
“Do you think it’s safe for me to kneel for him now? Like Jeroen is doing for you right now?”
“You do have a point,” Lars says gently, “Matteo needs a little nudge in the right direction.”
“And how did you plan to give him that nudge?” I ask.
Lars leans back, “I have an idea.”
Jeroen and I look at him questioningly. There is no answer.
“Of course, he’s not going to tell us what his idea is,” says Jeroen, a little indignant.
“No,” says Lars with a slightly mischievous smile.
“Jeroen. Get us some beer.”
“Yes, sir.” Jeroen gets up and walks to the kitchen.
“He accepted his role in a flash,” I say once he’s out of the room.
“That’s the magic of ‘The Second Chance’ at work.”
“Still, Jeroen had a point. Why on earth didn’t I choose you as my Master? You’re good at this.”
“Thank you,” Lars says with a smile, “But you were right, the chemistry isn’t there.”
When Jeroen comes back in, he hands us a beer and sits down at his Master’s feet.
Later, I bike home. The evening air is cool. I think about Matteo’s look in the hallway. About what Lars said. An invitation.
I shouldn’t have looked away.
#
It’s Friday night. I’m at ‘The Second Chance’ and I’m horny. I’ve jerked off a lot these past few nights, but it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. I can’t think of anything better to do than go to the ‘The Second Chance’.
Karol is sitting where he always sits, behind the counter, engrossed in that book of his.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, without looking up, as I walk toward him.
“I, uh… I wanted my, uh… pants.”
Karol slams the book shut and looks up. “It’s Friday night.”
“And?”
“That’s when eighteen-year-old guys go out. With their friends.”
“I want my leather pants.”
“Are you sure?” The Goth boy stares at me intently, as if he’s looking right through my soul.
“Of course you can have your leather pants. But I might have something else for you.”
“Oh?” I ask sheepishly.
“A pair of leather pants.”
“And how is that different?”
“These aren’t magical.” He grabs a pair of leather pants and tosses them onto the counter. “With these, you have to use your own magic.”
I stare at the pants on the counter; they do look nice.
“Try them on.” It sounds like an order, and I must admit, it turns me on.
When I come back wearing the pants, Karol nods approvingly. “You’re a handsome guy. They look good on you.”
He makes a dismissive gesture. “And now get out of my store. Go cause some trouble out there.”
I walk out into the fresh air. The leather pants I’m wearing may not be magical, but they certainly feel good. I notice girls, but guys as well, turning their heads to look at me.
The bar is already full. Loud music and a lot of buzz. Some students seem already to be drunk. I’m startled for a moment when Jeroen suddenly throws his arms around my neck and gives me a kiss. “Luuk!” he shouts in my ear, “So good to see you here.” Without asking me anything, he drags me over to the table where Lars is sitting, who greets me cheerfully, “You look good, man!” He shoves a beer into my hands. We catch up a bit, as best we can over the noise of the bar.
Jeroen is already back on the dance floor. The guy has undergone a complete transformation in a short time. He’s cheerful and confident.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to him,” I say to Lars, “but it’s impressive.”
“He’s really doing it all on his own,” says Lars.
“Don’t be so modest - you’re absolutely making that boy happy.”
“Are you happy?”
“Oh well.” I shrug.
“You deserve to be happy.” Lars stands up, “Another beer?”
Fortunately, Lars drops the subject and treats me to quite a few beers. I feel guilty that he’s paying for everything, but Lars waves it off. “You helped me. I’m helping you.”
There’s only so many beers you can drink before your bladder has something to say about it. So, after a while, I excuse myself and head up the stairs to the restrooms. In the hallway upstairs, the noise from the bar has become a muffled background sound.
The restroom is empty when I walk in. Except for one guy. Him. Matteo. Even though I really need to pee, I immediately turn around.
“Come here,” Matteo says in a deep voice.
The commanding tone feels warm in my lower gut. I walk to the other end of the trough. I unzip my fly.
“Come closer.”
This was crazy. Yet I obey.
I’m standing right next to Matteo. I hear his stream of piss clattering hard against the zinc of the trough. I stare straight ahead, not daring to look.
“Why did you run away?”
“I was scared.”
“Hhhmm.” There’s no judgment in his voice.
I have no idea what to make of it.
Matteo’s stream of piss seems to go on forever. “You can look. I know you want to.”
I force myself to look. It is indeed the same gorgeous cock as the one I see in the store. Even though it’s not hard, it still looks mighty. The strong stream of piss just keeps going; I can’t possibly look away.
After a while, the stream finally slows to a trickle. Matteo shakes his cock a few times firmly to shake off the last drops and tucks it away again.
“Glad you like my dick,” says Matteo, “I know what you want.”
I feel uneasy. This is the real Matteo. Can I really trust him?
He looks at me defiantly. “Do you dare to ask me?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue. I want to suck your dick, Matteo. But my voice fails me; fear clamps my throat shut.
He waits a moment and then says matter-of-factly, “So you don’t dare to ask.” Then he walks over to the washing sink to wash his hands.
I’m angry at myself. I feel like I’ve missed an opportunity. I curse myself. Coward!
“It looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Lars says when I come back downstairs.
“Almost,” I say, “Matteo.”
I sigh. “Man, I’m horny. I messed it up.”
“Just go find him,” Lars says.
I do just that for the rest of the evening, but Matteo seems to have vanished.
#
The birds are already chirping when I come home, drunk and horny. With some effort, I haul myself into bed. I want to jerk off. I can’t. For a moment, I feel nausea rising, which disappears again when I let go of my cock. A little later, I try again, but the nausea comes back. I give up. My head is still spinning. Slowly, I drift off into a restless sleep, into the darkness.
Images flash by. I see Jeroen sitting at Lars’s feet, beaming with happiness. I smell the bar’s restroom. Cleaning fluid mixed with the scent of men’s piss. I’m standing next to Matteo, who’s shaking the last drops off his cock. I kneel beside him. Matteo turns a quarter turn, offering his cock, right in front of my mouth. I open my mouth. Darkness. I’m glad you like my cock; I hear echoing in the distance.
I’m standing in the store, but there seem to be no walls. No boundaries. Just the mirrors and beyond… emptiness.
In the mirrors, I see that I’m naked.
It’s Matteo’s voice. Only it doesn’t sound through my ears, but in my head.
“I was scared.”
There is silence.
“Sir,” I add.
I feel his approval reverberating through my body.
For a moment, I don’t know what to say.
“That the ‘real’ Matteo will beat me up… Sir.”
I swallow. I believe him. “Then don’t you mind… what I want, Sir?”
At that moment, Matteo materializes before me. Tall, stern, dominant.
There is an icy, long moment of silence.
I no longer have a will of my own; my body kneels before him. But I don’t want it any other way either. I kiss his sneakers. Again, my body moves on its own. I get a hard-on—that much is definitely me.
“I didn’t mean it that way, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir, I am Your slut.”
My body sticks its ass in the air. My cock is ready to explode.
Matteo whips my bare ass with a riding crop.
Matteo relentlessly continues to punish my ass, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
The answer is an even harder slap on my ass.
Tears well up in my eyes. “Sir! Matteo! Please!”
Matteo wipes the sweat from his forehead.
“Yes, Sir.” Matteo is right, of course.
Matteo, the mirrors, Karol. They all fade away. Darkness. Fire… in my buttocks.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
