I applied for a single dorm room even before I was accepted to the college. Not that I was anti-social, quite the opposite, but I was appalled by the idea of sharing a bedroom with a stranger.
Still, it seemed I was out of luck. With only days left before the semester started, I had to accept a double. To make matters worse, neither of my parents had the time to drive me. This meant spending 8 hours on a train and not bringing more luggage than I could carry.
By the time I'd arrived, picked up my keys and found my room, it was already quite late. I was tired, hungry and in a very bad mood. All I could think of was getting to bed as soon as possible. I had even forgotten the whole roommate thing.
That, however, I was reminded of the very instant I swung open the door. One of the beds was located less than a meter from the door. The first I saw of my roommate was his bed covers being quickly rearranged. He had obviously been fapping when I interrupted him.
None of what happened next was planned. Nor would I say it's representative for how I usually act. But being tired, hungry and annoyed can change anyone.
I let the door close behind me. He was staring at me and I at him. His face was bright red, which was hardly surprising in this situation.
None of us said anything for a few seconds.
"Hi, I'm -" he started.
"Were you fucking wanking?!" I interrupted, unloading all my built-up frustration onto my new roommate.
"I was... Ehm..." he hesitated. "Uhm, no I mean -"
"It's not a difficult question," I shouted at him. "Were you or were you not stroking your meat?"
His evening had not gone the way he had anticipated. Now he seemed confused and embarrassed.
I was steaming, allowing myself to keep unloading my frustrations.
"Well, were you?"
"I..." he whimpered. "Yes..."
"What was that?" I kept shouting. "I can't hear you."
"Y... yes," he said.
"Yes what?"
"Eh, yes I was... I was masturbating."
His face was even redder than before and he was cringingly holding on to the edge of the duvet.
The shouting had helped and I felt calmer. As I was thinking of a way out of this awkward situation, I realized that I was actually quite curious as to how far I would be able to take this. I decided not to pull back, but to instead continue and see where it led.
"So, are you gonna finish?" I asked, not shouting anymore, but trying for my most dominant tone.
He stared at me, face still bright red.
"No, I ..." he stuttered. "No, I'm ... eh ... I'm good."
"Finish," I said sternly, fixing my eyes on him. "Finish what you started so we can get this over with."
He looked nervous, bordering on scared. I kept my eyes fixed on him and did my best to maintain a stern and serious face.
Nothing happened for quite some time. He gulped nervously, and one of his hands slowly let go of the duvet and disappeared down under, towards his groin.
Not being able to find any other way out, he had decided to do as he was told. And I could see he started to slowly tug on his dick.
I've never really been dominant before. And I don't think I'm intimidating enough to dominate anyone like this in any other situation.
But for a freshman college kid, who probably moved out from parents' only days ago, it doesn't take much. Add to that, having just been caught red-handed and then yelled at by a stranger, that'll put you in a vulnerable situation.
He wasn't looking at me anymore, instead he tried to focus on the task at hand. I did my best to keep up the appearance as the dominant man in the room. It must have worked because he really did seem to put in the effort.
After a few minutes, I started to get bored watching his hand bobbing under the duvet. I grabbed it and yanked it off him. Too quick for him to try and stop me, but he was quick to cover his junk with his hands.
"I did not," I talked slowly and with my most dominant voice, "tell you to stop."
He looked up at me again. Now he seemed desperate, almost pleading.
"You have one minute to get it done," I was making it up as I went. "Or you'll wish you had."
My empty threat had worked. Reluctant at first, he started to pick up his wanking again. He struggled to get hard, but once he got it up he soon got his pace back up.
I had no idea how long he kept at it. Neither did he, for all I knew, so it hardly mattered. It did, however, seem like he was having some progress. He might even have started to enjoy it.
If I wanted to torment him further, now was the time. And no matter if he enjoyed it or not, I knew I did.
"Time's up!"
He was close and it was obvious that he wasn't planning to stop. This didn't surprise me in the least. However, I think my retribution surprised him.
Before he could see it coming, I whacked my fist square in his balls. I knew he would protect himself from a second blow, so I decided to go all-in on the first.
He groaned at first then whimpered.
"You had your chance," I told him. "Now go to sleep."
His dick had gone soft instantly after my fist hit his ballsack. He was clutching his aching nuts, as to comfort and protect them.
I paid him no attention, took off my jacket and opened up my bag to get my bed linen. After I made my bed I went to brush my teeth. When I got back he was back under his duvet sleeping. Or, more likely, pretending to sleep.
Feeling quite pleased with how the evening had turned out, I stripped down to my boxer briefs and got in bed. It had been fun and I was curious how far I could continue my ad-hoc experiment. Maybe sharing a room would be so bad after all.
*
Something woke me up a few hours later. Turns out my roommate was at it again. To be honest, I was surprised that he'd be up for it again so soon. Guess his raging teenage hormones kept him from getting any sleep and this was the only solution he knew of.
That's when I decided: if he was going to wake me up at night, I'll be using him as my toy from now on.
I listened quietly for a while. My plan was to let him get close before I interrupted him. It was difficult to tell exactly how close he was, but I decided to get up.
He looked terrified and stopped immediately. I pulled off his duvet and he instinctively hurdled up towards the corner and covered his junk with his hands.
"That's it," I said. "From now on, as long as you share a room with me, you don't get to cum unless I tell you to. Is that clear?"
He didn't reply.
"Is that clear?" I repeated.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Good. Now get soft and go back to sleep."
He gulped and looked down to where his hands were desperately trying to conceal his boner. He knew as well as I that it wouldn't go soft on it's own anytime soon.
"You better get it down quick or I'll have to force it down."
I looked at him and he looked back at me in panic.
"Put your hands behind your head."
He didn't obey but kept trying to conceal his boner with his hands.
"Now don't make this harder than it has to be. Put your hands behind your head or I swear I'll make sure you'll regret it."
After a short moment of hesitation, he did as he was told. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, so he probably had a pretty good idea of what was coming.
This time I managed to get two rapid blows to his balls, one with each fist. His reaction was almost identical to last time.
I dropped his duvet on the floor and got back to bed.
"If you wake me again, trust me, you'll be sorry."
My threat had worked and I slept until 11 the next day. When I woke up his bed was empty.
At first, I thought he had pulled up and left altogether, but I soon realized that he was just out. Most likely, he was emptying his nuts somewhere. I finished unpacking and went for a stroll around campus.
