Friendship
Monday morning, in the school hallways. I’m walking faster than usual to my classroom; I overslept. My jeans are rubbing against my butt. My butt is still sore. I smiled to myself, quietly I cherish this feeling.
I walk into the classroom. Matteo, Ricardo, and Ryan are sitting in their seats in the back row. They’re rowdy. I walk to my seat, right in front of them. I dread the inevitable taunting I usually get hurled at me. Especially now, after what happened on Saturday. But nothing like that happens.
“Morning,” Matteo gives me a condescending nod.
“Good morning, Matteo… Ricardo, Ryan.”
I smile to myself as I catch myself wanting to call Matteo “Sir.” But this isn’t the Matteo I met in the store.
“Hey, man,” says Ryan. Ricardo acknowledges my greeting with a nod.
Do I suddenly belong now?
When I sit down a little too quickly in the hard chair, I feel a sharp pain in my butt.
“Ouch,” I say out loud.
I hear Ricardo chuckling behind me.
I feel uncomfortable and a little horny at the same time at the thought that he’s the one who caused the sensitivity in my butt.
Jeroen is the last to walk in. He is, contrary to me, greeted with mocking remarks from Matteo and his buddies:
“Were you jerking off, that you’re so late?”
Jeroen doesn’t say a word.
“His right hand is the only one that wants anything to do with him,” Ricardo says in a sneering tone.
The boys fall silent the moment Mr. Elbers steps into the classroom.
The bell rings for coffee break. Everyone rushes out of the classroom. In the hallway, Ryan trips Jeroen.
Lars storms over to him. “Leave that kid alone.” He reaches out his hand to Jeroen and helps him up. Jeroen looks up gratefully at his rescuer.
Ryan just looks a little sheepish.
Matteo laughs out loud.
#
The school week is almost over. I’m lying in bed, thinking about the store, about Matteo. The Matteo at school isn’t the same Matteo from the store. The Matteo at school is still a bully. The Matteo from the store was sexy, super-hot, commanding.
Matteo and his entourage at school had changed a tiny bit since the weekend, at least they were less hostile. But still nothing like my Masters at the shop.
I brought back the memory of Saturday as I gripped my cock.
In my mind, I kneel before Matteo again. “Taste me, Luuk,” I hear him say in a sultry tone. The memory of the sweet, milky taste of his cum returns to my mouth. His cock in my mouth…
“Aaaah...”
I feel empty. Will Matteo ever be the way he is in the shop?
I’ve been jerking off like this a lot this week. The satisfaction is getting thinner and thinner. I long for my Masters.
#
The little alley, Gassteeg, is once again quieter than the rest of the city. All the sounds from outside the alley sound muffled and distant. The bell rings as I walk into “The Second Chance.”
I stand frozen in place when I see Lars at the counter, talking to the Goth boy.
“Thank you, Karol,” says Lars, “it was a good session with Jeroen.”
Karol - apparently that’s the Goth boy’s name - takes a leather bracelet from Lars and puts it away in one of the cabinets behind him.
Lars turns to leave the store. When he sees me, a friendly smile spreads across his face; friendlier than I’ve ever seen him look at me at school. “Hi, Luuk.”
Before I can say anything back, he’s already left the store.
The Goth boy is leaning over a book on the counter.
Stunned, I walk over to him, “Is he also…?”
Karol doesn’t look up from his book and remains silent. Long enough to make me feel uncomfortable.
“He’s a customer, yes,” Karol finally says, “and has been a customer of ours a little longer than you’ve been.”
Karol slowly closes the book he was leafing through and looks at me now.
“Just like you, he’s learning,” Karol says, “only… he’s a little further along.”
I look at the door through which Lars has just disappeared.
“He’s learning what it means to lead someone,” Karol says. “Just as you’re learning what it means to submit.”
The Goth boy looks at me intently. “He is a Master.”
The word lingers; I feel my stomach clench.
I try to picture Lars in front of me. Not like at school, but as he might be here. I can’t quite manage it. At the word “Master,” my thoughts automatically turn to Matteo.
I don’t know what to say.
Karol hands me my pants. “These pants will let you find who you’re looking for,” he says, “But if the other person isn’t looking for anything, it stays here.”
I look at him questioningly. He looks back with an expression that makes it clear he thinks there’s nothing more to explain.
“Have a good session,” he wishes me.
#
I walk to the back, toward the fitting rooms, with my leather pants in my hands. On the way, I welcome the scent of sandalwood and leather once again.
I push the curtain of the fitting booth aside. I’m back in the claustrophobic booth where I stood a week ago.
I take off my jeans and underwear to put my leather pants back on. The leather caresses my skin exactly as I remember it. My cock goes stiff immediately. I zip them up and fasten the button. I can still do that. I know that unbuttoning the pants is up to my Masters. And that idea makes me so hot. The pants give me that feeling of confidence again. I look fantastic in the mirror.
With that feeling, I step out of the fitting room. Let my Masters come.
I wait for a while. I know now what to expect from my Masters. I can’t wait to kneel before them again. Especially Matteo. The wait seems to last an eternity now. The magic will still work, won’t it?
Then Matteo appears before me. Calm, tough, radiant. His jeans are even tighter than I remember. A bulge is visible in his crotch.
“Did you miss me, boy?”
“Yes, Sir, very much.”
Ricardo and Ryan appear behind Matteo; they stand slightly behind him with their arms crossed.
“The little slut missed us…” says Ricardo.
“He must have jerked off a lot while thinking of us.”
“That’s true, Sirs,” I say.
Matteo grabs my chin, forcing me to look him straight in the eye. “That’s good, kid, but next time you save something for us.” He smiles, “Are you up for it?”
I swallow.
“Should I warm up your ass?”
I nod yes, without saying a word.
Matteo sits down on a chair. “Come,” he whispers, almost inaudibly.
I stand in front of him. My Master undoes my pants button, unzips them, and slides the pants down over my ass. He lays me across his lap.
“Count.”
“One, Sir.”
“Two, Sir.”
“Three, Sir.”
Matteo does exactly what he promised. He doesn’t hit too hard, not too soft either. Just hard enough to make my buttocks glow pleasantly.
“Twenty-five, Sir.”
“That’s enough.” Matteo strokes my warm cheeks with his hand. “Your ass is warmed up.”
I’m allowed to settle between Matteo’s legs. He unzips his fly. The scent that’s released isn’t that of a freshly showered man; it’s heavier, rawer, and lingers, deep in my throat. Sweat, piss. The scent of a man who’s worked all day in tight pants. His masculine scents are intense, delicious, enchanting.
He pulls his cock and balls out of his pants and leans back lazily. This time, he gives me free rein to explore his cock at my own pace.
I don’t touch it at first. I look at and smell the massive thing. Matteo’s cock isn’t even hard, but it’s already awe-inspiring. The thick cock hangs down in a lazy arc. The veins are visible; only the tip of his glans is visible beneath the foreskin. His balls hang behind it, tight and full. Matteo apparently shaved them a few days ago; the first stubble is already visible.
My throat tightens briefly as I stare at the mighty organ; everything in me wants to surrender. My mouth waters.
“Go ahead and hold it,” Matteo says invitingly. His deep voice pulls me back.
Carefully, I slide my hand around it. Warm satin. I wrap my fingers around the shaft. Soft, warm, and alive; a new sensation, yet familiar. I take my time to feel it. It’s barely perceptible, but I feel more blood flowing in. Feel how his beautiful cock grows heavier.
Matteo sighs almost inaudibly.
I stroke him gently.
“My dick isn’t made of porcelain, you know.”
I swallow; afraid I’m doing it wrong. I jerk him off harder.
Matteo growls softly. A sign that I’m doing it right.
“Lick my balls.”
“Yes, Master.”
Before I devote myself to Matteo’s balls, I see him make a gesture to Ricardo. I enjoy Matteo’s balls, but when I feel Ricardo start fingering my boyhole, I pause for a moment. I let it happen. I move again, my tongue, my mouth, while behind me Ricardo’s fingers open my boypussy.
I can’t resist licking up along the shaft.
“Good, take him in your mouth.”
I look up into Matteo’s eyes as I suck him off.
Matteo grabs my head with both hands and holds me in place. Ricardo thrusts his cock into my boyhole. I want to scream, but I can’t; Matteo’s cock is deep in my throat. I’m being penetrated from both sides by my Masters. They hold me still like this for what feels like an eternity. Enough time to get used to their fullness.
I feel my body relax. That’s also the moment Ricardo starts fucking me. Long, slow thrusts. I’m sucking Matteo now to Ricardo’s rhythm. And even though Ricardo sets the pace, it still feels like everything is under Matteo’s control.
I’m getting into a horny frenzy. Ricardo knows how to fuck a boy’s ass. I get even hornier when he spanks my butt with every thrust.
“What a submissive little slut,” Ryan says. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him pull his cock out of his pants and jerk off to the show.
“A beautiful little slut,” Matteo growls, thrusting his cock deep into my throat.
When he cums in my throat, I can’t hold back anymore. My orgasm makes my asshole clench tightly around Ricardo’s cock, and he grunts loudly as he shoots his load into my ass.
The Masters pull out and zip up their tight jeans again.
“You’re getting better and better,” Matteo says before he and the guys walk away.
I’m lying on the floor, my pants still around my ankles, the taste of Matteo in my mouth, Ricardo’s cum still dripping from my ass. I can now take the pants off myself without any trouble.
I crawl to the fitting room. As I pick up my own pants, I feel inexplicably energetic, clean, and fresh again. Fortunately, the taste of Matteo hasn’t disappeared yet.
On my way back to the exit, I pick up the leather pants. They’re spotless again, too.
The Goth guy gives me a smile when I hand the pants back to him, as if he knows how good my session was.
#
When I let myself fall a little too hard into the school bench, I’m reminded again that I got fucked hard in the ass a few days ago. I let out an involuntary moan. It’s not an unpleasant memory.
“Had a good weekend?” Ricardo asks from behind me. A little teasing but not really mean.
“Better than you can imagine,” I say.
Class has already started when Matteo walks in. With cool nonchalance, he accepts the reprimand for being late. On his way to his seat next to Ricardo, he briefly places his hand on my shoulder. He pauses for a moment. He looks at me, unusually for him, with a hint of surprise as if he himself doesn’t understand why he did what he did.
But in a split second, I saw something of Matteo, my Master from the store. His calmness, his authority. Even his raw musk announces itself for a moment in my nostrils… The taste of his cum lingers on my tongue again for only a second.
During the break, Lars comes over to me. “Matteo and his buddies are different… they bully a lot less.” He looks at me conspiratorially. “Are those the guys you have fun with at the shop?” He winks at me. “What games do you play with them at the shop?”
I feel my face getting hot.
“It’s not them… the guys I meet at the store,” I say curtly. Lars probably knows exactly what I’m doing at the store.
But Lars shrugs. “Still, I see a change.”
I look at him. For the first time, I see it - something in his demeanor, the way he looks at me. Not as a fellow student, but as someone who knows how things work. Someone who’s in control.
“You’ve changed too,” I say.
Lars nods in agreement. “We need to talk.”
“But not here,” I say.
“Come by my place tonight.”
“Is that an order?” I ask with a laugh.
Lars blushes, “Uh… that’s not what I meant at all.”
#
I am a little nervous when I go to Lars’s place that evening. When I ring the doorbell, the door opens quickly. Lars is standing in the doorway. He looks at me sternly.
“Come in.” His tone is neutral, not stern. I must have just imagined the sternness.
“My parents are out tonight, so we can talk freely,” he says as we walk into the living room. He points to a chair. “Have a seat.”
Once I’m seated, I blurt it out. “You were in that vintage shop on Gassteeg, too.” Damn it, why am I stating the obvious? Of course he was there - we saw each other there.
Lars gives a weak smile, “Yeah. The Second Chance.”
“That one, yeah…” I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should ask, “Did you also…”
“Yeah,” Lars says dryly. “I did there, too.” He smiles a little teasingly.
I feel my face getting hot. “I mean…”
“I know what you mean,” Lars says calmly, “we’re alike, just different sides of the same coin.”
“You’re the Master.”
"And you? The other side?"
“A slut…” I say, “but…”
"Not my slut," he adds.
"Exactly."
"That’s okay." He shrugs. “We can be friends; that’s fine with me.”
"I’d like that."
Lars sighs, “You know, I could use someone who understands this.” He looks sadly ahead. “It feels like the ‘real’ world is getting duller and duller, like the color in it is slowly fading.”
I don’t really notice it yet, but the store is indeed different from the ordinary world. “In the store, Matteo isn’t such a jerk.”
Lars laughs out loud. “Matteo, that bully?” he asks.
I feel embarrassed. “In the store, he’s a damn hot Master.” Why am I turned on by such a jerk of a guy?
“That’s possible in the shop, yeah,” says Lars. “Want a drink?” he asks, as if we’re just talking about homework.
“A beer would be nice.”
Lars takes two beers out of the fridge, opens them with his keychain, hands one bottle to me, and puts the other to his own lips. He sits down across from me. Standing with his legs wide apart, not on purpose, mind you. It’s just how he sits. I ought to be falling for him now. He’s tough, wears leather, and he’s a Master. But strangely enough, I feel nothing. To me, he’s just a nice guy.
We chat about this and that, our plans for further studies. Lars wants to study business administration. I’m not sure yet.
Then I decide to ask anyway. “What’s your experience with ‘The Second Chance’?”
It’s a very personal question; I must have gone too far.
But Lars doesn’t bat an eye and answers calmly. “At ‘The Second Chance,’ I meet Jeroen.”
“That shy boy from my class?”
“Yes, him. He has submissive fantasies… just like you… But he doesn’t dare do anything with them yet.” Lars leans back, “Not yet.”
He leans forward and looks me straight in the eye, “Just like Matteo isn’t nearly ready to be your Master.”
I swallow hard. Could that really be possible? Matteo, the real one, that bully, that jerk? My Master?
“But in the store, he’s…” I hesitate to say the M word.
Lars waits patiently for a moment and then finishes my sentence, “Your perfect Master.”
“That’s true,” I say, a little embarrassed.
Lars sees my hesitation, “There’s nothing wrong with a perfect Master.”
He smiles briefly, “And I should know.”
“Tooting your own horn?” I ask, not at all that serious.
“Another beer?” he asks.
I nod.
Lars comes back with two bottles. He sits down with his legs spread wide again. He takes a sip of his beer and stares at the label on the bottle for a moment. He seems to drift off into his own thoughts for a moment.
“You know what I find most bizarre about that store?”
He leans back, his voice calm. “Not the start of a session. But the moment Jeroen stops thinking. That he’s no longer trying to control the situation, but that he’s just… there. On his knees, at my feet. Completely in the moment.”
I say nothing. I hardly dare to breathe.
“At that point,” Lars says, looking at me again, “I can do whatever I want with him. And the best part is, he wants that too. He’s literally waiting for it.”
I feel the heat rush straight to my groin. It’s not Lars; it’s that image. Jeroen, that shy boy from my class, kneeling at his Master’s boots. It hits me like a bomb because it’s exactly what I feel with Matteo. I’m instantly turned on, and I know I can’t hide it.
I shift a little in my seat, hoping Lars won’t notice.
Of course, Lars sees it. His gaze drops briefly to my jeans and then calmly returns to my face. He doesn’t laugh at me; he doesn’t even look surprised. He just takes another sip.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and I look at the floor.
“It’s fine,” he says dryly. “You don’t have to tell me the details, Luuk. I can tell just by looking at you.”
He sets his bottle down. “But realize one thing: Matteo is only nineteen too. Outside that store, he’s still a guy who acts tough. At ‘The Second Chance,’ he’s your Master, okay. But outside…”
“he’s just like your Jeroen, and he knows nothing about the Second Chance,” I add.
#
Later that week, I lie awake at night. I can’t get Matteo out of my head. The real Matteo. Too many inexplicable things have happened. Did I see something of my Master in him? I must know.
The next day, I go back to “The Second Chance.”
I storm into the shop. The Goth boy is sitting where he always sits, once again engrossed in his book. As if nothing ever changes here.
I don’t wait for him to notice me. “He’s changing, Karol. Today in the hall… he didn’t yell at me. He grabbed my arm when I stumbled. It wasn’t a shove; it was a grip. He looked at me and I saw that he… he was there for a moment. The Matteo I meet here in the shop. My Master.”
Karol looks up from his book. Not at all surprised, as if he’s observing a process that’s going exactly according to plan. “Yes.”
“That’s it? Yes?” I ask, indignant.
“What did you expect?” He turns a page. “You wondered if he was changing. He is changing.”
“But how?”
The Goth boy shrugs. “Not relevant.”
I look at the fitting room door. “Does this mean the store won’t be needed anymore in the end?”
Karol looks at me, a little wearily. “Maybe. But remember: a good Master is much more demanding than a bully. Are you ready for that version of Matteo?”
“I’m already submitting to Matteo here,” I say. I hear the pride in my voice.
The Goth boy sighs. “The real Matteo will never be entirely what you envision as your perfect Master.”
“So, the magic doesn’t work?”
Karol stares at me intently. “The magic certainly does work.”
“But?”
“But are you ready to obey the real Matteo once he becomes your Master?”
I pause for a moment. “I don’t know.”
“That’s an honest answer.” Karol closes his book. “Most people say yes.”
“And?”
“They mean it. At that moment.” He stands up and walks past the racks of leather belts and patches, his fingers briefly touching the leather. “But the store filters. The real world doesn’t.”
“What does it filter, then?”
Karol turns around. “Doubt. Uncertainty. Bad days.” He looks me straight in the eye. “Here, Matteo is always your Master.” He nods toward the door. “Outside this door, he’s just a nineteen-year-old boy.”
I think of that grip in the hall. He was not the bully who wanted to hurt me, but the man who makes me feel warm.
“I saw him today,” I whisper. “My Master. Just for a moment.”
“Yes,” Karol says. “Just for a moment.”
He walks back to his stool. Picks up his book again. “That’s going to happen more often.”
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