Date: Sat, 1 Apr 2017 22:23:06 -0700
From: Timmy Elliot <east.meets.west.te@gmail.com>
Subject: "East meets West" -- part 5 (gay/young-friends and gay/interracial)

The following story is a psychological work involving a consentual gay
sexual relationship that evolves between a 12 year old American and a
14 year old Chinese boy.  The work is entirely fictional, so any
similarity of names, characters, or events is entirely accidental.
Incidental mentions of superheroes are registereted trademarks of
Marvel and DC.

If you are offended by any aspect of this genre, please stop reading
now!

I would absolutely love comments, criticisms, and story suggestions
from anyone who reads this work!  And please, if you enjoy being able
to read this, won't you consider donating to Nifty to keep this great
service available for all?

                              -----

Upon hearing Timmy say he needed a shower, Elliot got to his feet,
freeing Timmy's legs.  It was only then that it dawned on Timmy that
he'd been trapped under the older boy the whole time. It made him feel
like his words were a magic phrase that unlocked shackles he'd never
noticed before.

Despite being free, Timmy made no attempt to get up at first, and
instead laid on his back, looking up at Elliot's body in awe.  He'd
always been aware of how much taller his Chinese friend was, but from
this perspective, he now seemed like a giant.  In an instant, he
recalled the Captain America comic book he'd read where his hero faced
a giant who utterly towered over him, and it felt thrilling to find
himself in that position for real.  Now from this angle he could see
Elliot's ballsack, which, like everything else on the older boy, was
bigger and fuller than Timmy could ever imagine growing up to have.

Even though Timmy's cock had curled up and fallen asleep after his
orgasm, Elliot's still managed to stay hard after all he'd done.  His
shaft's stiffness had flagged only enough so that it visibly bobbed up
and down along with Elliot's heartbeat.  Timmy's hand went almost
instinctively to his own cock, flicking its limpness back and forth
between his fingers, hoping against hope he could stimulate it again.

"C'mon," Elliot said, offering Timmy a hand up.  He knew seeing Timmy
in the shower would be much more exciting than anything they could do
here, and was impatient to get started.

As Timmy stood up, a remnant of Elliot's cum on Timmy's neck that had
gone uncleaned started to trickle down his chest.  Elliot quickly
stooped to pick up the Captain America tee shirt and dabbed the
rivulet that had by now made it down to Timmy's lower belly, stopping
it just before it could drip to the floor.  Instead of withdrawing his
hand, Elliot moved the wadded up shirt onto Timmy's cock, and
squeezed, rubbing the wetted red white and blue fabric against his
boycock.  Even though it had deflated, Timmy's cock was still
painfully sensitive, and as the fabric of his t-shirt scraped across
his cockhead, Timmy gasped in pain; he even stood on his tiptoes, as
if trying to climb away from the touch.  Elliot closed his fingers
tighter around the boycock that was underneath the fabric, causing
Timmy to arch his back.

"Please..." Timmy whimpered as the pain from his sensitivized cockhead
melded with pleasure.  Even he wasn't sure whether he was begging for
it to stop, or begging for more of it.  The touches made his cockhead
hurt, and his body instinctively moved away from it, and yet it felt
so GOOD.  It was the first time Timmy had felt something that hurt
that he wanted anyway.

Elliot's grasp closed tighter still, just to the point where Timmy's
tiny balls felt a tinge of pain.  Timmy arched his back in an attempt
to stand higher on his tiptoes, but it did no good.  With the entirity
of Timmy's small equipment easily closed within one hand, Elliot
twisted his wrist left and right, scraping fabric against sensitized
skin and causing Timmy to howl.

"I can't... you're..." Timmy blubbered, filled with excitement but
also dread at what Elliot might do next.

"You can't do anything," Elliot completed the first sentence.  "I'm in
control."  Elliot's cock had now surged back to full hardness as he
felt flushed with power.

"Yessss..." Timmy said in a low wail.  In that instant he knew: he
liked the way this hurt!  "I can't do anything," he echoed.  A smile
crossed his lips at the same time it crossed Elliot's.  Both boys
understood, in the same instant, that they where doing what they were
meant to do.

But now Elliot surprised Timmy by letting go and pulling the t-shirt
away.  Cold air rushed back around Timmy's soft cock, where before
Elliot's strong hand and the fabric of his t-shirt had been keeping it
warm.

"Let's go," Elliot said, now nudging Timmy towards the stairway that
led to the upstairs bathroom.  Timmy led the way, but felt the need to
stop and turn around to see his friend following behind him.  He loved
watching Elliot's still-swollen cock swinging heavily back and forth
between his legs as he walked.  Elliot caught up and nudged his friend
along; soon the two boys were running up the stairs in a burst of
anticipation.

They arrived at the large bathroom and were greeted by something that
took them by surprise: seeing themselves together in the reflection of
the large bathroom mirror.  What they were doing became instantly so
much more real now that they could see each other together.  Now they
could compare, and everything they'd learned about each other's bodies
became even more apparent.  Timmy switched his gaze between his own
cock and Elliot's, back and forth; he felt so tiny and insignificant
himself, and yet so proud that he could nevertheless have a friend
with such a superior physique.

The differences between white and Chinese cocks were by now almost
engrained.  Timmy was certain that Chinese were longer, thicker, had
more skin, had veins around, and stayed hard forever.  Meanwhile Timmy
had apparently been born with the exact opposite of that, and there
was no way to change it.  Just like the pain he'd felt in his cockhead
and balls had become pleasure, the punishing inadequacies he felt when
comparing himself to Elliot turned into longing.

"I wish I could feel... that feeling... again..." Timmy said to no one
in particular as he flicked his puny, unresponsive penis between his
fingers.

"You can.  I'll show you," Elliot responded cryptically, motioning
Timmy over to the shower.  Timmy took the cue and turned the shower
on, but Elliot reached in past him and turned the dial from hot all
the way to cold.  "Get in now," Elliot ordered.

Timmy's eyes opened up as big as saucers, because he knew the water
would be painfully cold.  He didn't want to get in.  But, no... he
did!  Even if it made him freeze to death, he wanted to do what Elliot
had told him to, and he hoped that it had something with how he could
get that wonderful feeling again.  Timmy took a deep breath and lept
into the stream of cold water, which splashed powerfully against his
boycock and belly.  The arctic-like shock made him yelp out loud, and
just as he did, he felt his whole lower region tense, then go numb,
then become gripped by pleasure.  Yes, there was that feeling again!

This time, though, the feeling was duller and more spread out in his
belly, it was less intense, and it didn't start at his penis like
before.  And yet it felt good, right down to his core.  What had
started out as stabing pain of cold water turned into ecstasy.  It
made him feel like he had a knot of weakness and helplessness inside,
and the muscles he used to pee were pushing and pulling against
something, as if to try to force the knot out.  The pleasure he felt
while failing at that struggle told him the weakness and helplessness
inside him were GOOD.  Timmy's body hunched over in the cold water,
and his legs bowed out as he tried to steady himself.  He looked down
at his cock, and not only had it remained soft, it was shrinking so
small in the cold water that it almost seemed to be disappearing into
his body.

Now Elliot pushed Timmy out of the water stream to the corner of the
shower, and lept into the cold water himself.  Timmy could tell from
the suddenly tensed muscles and deep moaning that the same reaction
was now happening to his friend.  He looked down at Elliot's cock just
in time to see yet another spurt of creamy white fluid shoot out of
the tip, only to glop down on the shower floor and get washed away.

"Oh my god, how did you do it again?" Timmy asked in total shock.

"Chinese cocks can go forever!" Elliot said triumphantly, but in truth
he'd only come to appreciate that his own stamina was unique now that
he had a chance to compare himself to an American boy.  Timmy let out
a defeated moan.  Like the painful rubbing of his cockhead that turned
to pleasure, like the stabbing blast of cold water that turned into an
orgasm, Elliot's words hurt a part of ego that made the rest of Timmy
want to be hurt even worse.  He looked back and forth between his cock
-- puny and nob-like -- and Elliot's long, thick, vein-wrapped shaft
still standing tall despite the onslaught of cold water that had
shrunken Timmy.

Elliot pulled Timmy forward by the hips, bringing him back into the
stabbing cold water, and pressed his cock against Timmy so hard it
pinched his balls.  Being pulled back into the cold water hurt Timmy's
skin and promptly gave him another orgasm.  And although this one was
very mild, the excitement was re-inforced by feeling the warm, slick
skin of Elliot's hard shaft grinding against his tiny knob.  In utter
defeat, Timmy's legs collapsed and he knelt on the shower floor, cold
water splashing all over him.

Now Elliot turned the dial from cold back to warm, bruskly lifted
Timmy to his feet, and pressed the smaller boy flat against the wall
of the shower.  The warm water was like a rescue blanket, soothing
Timmy's shivering muscles.  Elliot ground his groin against Timmy's
more and more insistently as the two boys looked down.  Crushed
between their bellies, they could see Elliot's veiny shaft and, when
the alignment was right, Timmy's small penis smothered under it.
Elliot slowly, seductively swung his hips from side to side, rolling
his manhood back and forth over Timmy's boyhood, as if it was a steam
roller driving forward and backwards to flatten a small speedbump.
Each time Elliot's cock rolled over Timmy's, it dragged the young
boy's hypersensitive cockhead against his belly, and he yelped in
pained pleasure.  With each yelp, the pleasure of the pain added is
desire for more pain.  Timmy was starting to like how Elliot was
hurting him.

Now, Elliot carefully recentered his shaft over Timmy's and started
started to lunge his hips up and down, up and down.  With each
vertical thrust he pushed his body harder into Timmy's until it was
not just their penises that were sliding past each other, but their
entire belly.  As their skin caught and latched, Timmy was lifted
almost off his feet as the thrust slid him up the slick shower wall,
then dropped back down.  Warm water lubricated their skin and made it
sensually shiny.  Elliot's thrusts were now becoming more insistent,
more aggressive, and less controlled.  Eventually one particularly
clumsy thrust drove his Chinese shaft much too hard into Timmy's
American balls so hard that the young boy shrieked in pain.  It hurt
too much.

Elliot's eyes opened up in wounded horror, realizing that he might
have injured friend, and he backed away quickly; Timmy fell to his
knees, clutching his balls.  Unsteady on his knees, he fell forward
and was stopped when his face planted right into Elliot's groin.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident," Elliot explained.  He'd already
prepared the earnest words of apology, but by the time they left his
lips, the animal in him had been rewakened by the feeling of Timmy's
face against his manhood.  He held his shaft by the base and started
slapping Timmy's face with it, one blow to the left cheek, then one
blow to the right cheek.  The loud, meaty thuds echoed off the walls
of the shower, and Timmy's face started to sting from the repeated
blows.

"No!" Timmy blubbered, water sputtering from his lips.  Elliot could
hear the shock in Timmy's voice, but there was no fright.  He knew he
could could his onslaught, even when Timmy begged again.

"You can't stop me," Elliot teased.  Now after each slap, Elliot let
his cockhead trace across Timmy's narrow, trembling lips.  The next
time Timmy opened his mouth to whimper, Elliot seized the opportunity
and poked his cockhead in.  Timmy instinctively sputtered and lurched
back, but Elliot cupped the young boy's head in his hand and guided
him back.  The struggle that ensued only drove Elliot to new heights
of longing, and at last he succeeded in breeching Timmy's defenses and
pushing his cockhead into that waiting mouth.

This was a day of firsts for Timmy to be sure, but also a first for
Elliot: it was the first time he felt someone else's warm, wet mouth
close around his manhood, and it was better than anything he ever
could have imagined!

"You like the taste of that?" Elliot taunted.  He felt Timmy nod his
head in agreement, and knew that the struggle was over.  Elliot took
his hand off the little boy's head and stood there as Timmy willingly,
clumsily, hungrily, obediently sucked, using suction to bring more and
more of Elliot's shaft into his mouth.

"You like my penis, don't you?"

Timmy's mouth was much too full to answer, but now his own penis
answered the question.  After being deflated and dormant for so long,
it was starting to stiffen again.

"American boys love to suck Chinese penises!" Elliot teased.  Now
teasing Timmy wasn't enough -- Elliot wanted to tease all of Timmy's
countrymen at once.  With those words Timmy's boycock sprang up, and
Elliot knew he'd found his mark.

"You're all born with such little ones you have to worship us
instead," feeling victorious enough to roar.

Timmy nodded and whimpered in agreement, pulling in as much as he
could of Elliot's manhood, but only making it halfway down the shaft
before he started to gag.

"I'm too big for you," Elliot crowed, and when he saw Timmy's boycock
stiffen all the way, he yanked his cock out.

"You're too weak."

"Please, I want it," Timmy begged, lunging forward to try to take
Elliot's cock in his mouth again.  Elliot parried the lunge and pushed
Timmy back until he crumpled on the shower floor, water raining down
over his boyish body.

"Your little pee pee is hard again, why not pay it some attention?"
Elliot suggested.  Timmy's hand went to work, flicking and rubbing his
boycock obediently.

"But I want yours!"

In truth, Elliot wanted Timmy's warm wet mouth back in action on his
shaft too, but for the time being, he was enjoying something newer,
more powerful, and even more thrilling: pushing Timmy down.

"Play with yours and tell me how it feels!" Elliot barked, starting to
stroke his own cock as he looked down at the boy sprawled at his feet.

"It feels so tiny!" the American boy wailed.

"It IS tiny.  It's all you'll ever have," Elliot fired a salvo into
the last of Timmy's crumbling armor.

"I'll always be small.  I'll always be weak."

"You're American," Elliot explained, as a desire surged in him to push
down everyone at once.

At that moment, Timmy was overcome by defeat, arousal, and exhaustion,
and despite the clumsy, inexperienced self-stimulation he was giving
his boycock, it overwhelmed him and an orgasm gripped his body once
again.  Elliot could see it taking hold and deftly threw the shower
dial all the way back to cold, raising the orgasm to a nearly
crippling level of intensity.

"Americans are nothing.  Chinese are..." Timmy blurted out just as the
orgasm reached peak intensity and took away his power of speech.  The
thought continued in his head: "Chinese are masters."

Just like Elliot, now Timmy needed this to damage more than just him... he
wanted to make everyone to feel it.  The realization of that was a
thousand times more searing than the pain he felt when his boycock was
rubbed by his t-shirt, and the acceptance of it a thousand times more
pleasurable.  The body-arching, skin tingling orgasm that gripped him
was proof that what he was feeling was absolutely, unquestionably true
and always would be.  The fact that Elliot had guided him there was
proof beyond certainty that Elliot was his master, that Chinese were
masters and Americans were weaklings.

Timmy had broken.

It was the happiest day of his life.

(No, that's not the end -- it's just the beginning! Stay tuned, and
please send comments to east.meets.west.te@gmail.com.  And please do
consider donating to Nifty!)