Title: Restricted Freedom
Universe: Tokio Hotel (Real Person Fiction).
Theme/Topic: Total Power Exchange, a close examination.
Characters: Bill and Tom focused.
Warnings/Spoilers: Incest, BDSM, punishment, spanking, total power exchange.
Word Count: WIP - constantly expanding.
Time: WIP - the clock is still ticking, people.
Summary: To both Bill and Tom, control is key; it's how they work together. Bill takes it, without or without permission, over everything from clothes to food to songs to bedtime. Tom gives it, freely and wholehearted to his brother - what Bill thinks is best for him is best; whether it is girls, outfits, where they eat or sleep. How they have sex. He is not Master, he is not Sir. He is Bill, and Tom loves him.
Dedication: Nobody in particular - for a anon kink meme prompt which requested this:
I'd love Tom to be fully mentally under Bill's control.
They'd look outside like we see them, but behind the scenes Bill controls everything in Tom's life and Tom is happy about that. You can choose how far or in which things you want to focus on in this fic, but basically total control over everything (like Tom's looks, clothes, using bathroom, everything). Bill also controls Tom's relationships and sex life (chooses Tom's gf's, random sex partners...) and in their own not-so-platonic relationship. Tom is happy to give all his control to Bill and it makes him feel safe. Sometimes Bill plays with Tom's OCD (messes things up, re-arrange things like Tom's need to color match) and it causes Tom anxiety, but in the end they are really happy together like this.
This is not about an abusive relationship, but very loving and caring one.here for list of distribution places. Previous Chapter can be found here.
Denied and Frustrated
“Don’t speak to me in that voice, Tom.” Bill’s voice is stern but Tom doesn’t care. They had been really getting into it – Tom had already jacked Bill off and they had been kissing and making out. Bill had reached for the lube but then he’d held back, tried to torment Tom even more with yet more kisses and licks and he’d reached down for Tom’s nipples, trying to play with them, and that’s just not fucking fair on a guy when it’s been so long already.
He snarls up at Bill who glares back at him and they’re in a stalemate. Tom needs to come, and Bill won’t let him, Bill needs him to submit and he won’t do it. The tension builds and Tom tries to speak to Bill through their bond but the only thing he find is a wall of anger that he doesn’t dare try to challenge.
He breaks first, as they both knew he would.
He’s whining faster than he thought possible, his voice needy and high. “Five fucking days, Bill - it hurts and I - fuck!” His dick twitches, and he’s had it up to here with being a good boy and doing what he’s told because for the last five days he’s been good, even handjobbed Bill off a time or two, and it’s gotten him precisely jackshit in the orgasm department. He leans back, reaches down for his cock because Bill’s taken his hands away to put them on his hips – the better to scold Tom. Fuck the rules, he’s aching and hard and he needs to come and you know what, screw Bill as well because he’s a grown man nearly and should be allowed to raise his own pleasure -
But Bill isn’t having that at all, and there’s a hand on his face, pulling him to look at his Bill’s dark eyes and - “Remove your hand. Now.” Bill sounds pissed but Tom doesn’t care.
“Fuck you.” He’s tired, his cock aches and he needs to come so fuck Bill with a rusty screwdriver, he’s going to do it.
Then there’s a hand on his nipple, wrenching it around and another on his ear, pulling that up too and it’s not sexy, it fucking hurts and he’s almost sobbing with the pain mixing with the frustration and it hurts, goddamnit - he’s begging Bill to let go immediately.
So much for being able to take the punishment.
The hand on his chest pulls his skin tight, and Tom struggles to follow it as Bill pulls up and away from his body. His left hand goes to Bill’s wrist, his right clutches his dick in reflexive pain, holding onto it like a comfort thing but there’s no comfort to be found there. He’s always been oversensitive and something like this is hell on earth for him – too much pain, way too fast.
But Bill is relentless and unmerciful as he pulls Tom’s head down to the pillow by his ear at the same time he forces Tom to arch up from the pull on his chest. Tom closes his eyes but tears leak out without his permission anyway.
As the first tears hit the pillow, Bill’s hand on his ear slowly releases and he speaks. “Let go.” Bill’s voice is calm and cold and Tom sobs again as he lets his hand drop off his cock because that’s the most obvious cause for Bill’s anger right now. Beneath his other hand, Bill’s pulse is strong and quick, and Tom senses anger and frustration in the beat. “And the other one. Flat on the bedspread. Now. Both of them.”
He’s got both hands pressed to the bedspread before he even knows what’s going on, his cock bobbing up from his groin, angry red and twitching - he was so close and he vaguely entertains the notion that Bill will let him come anyway and Bill’s hand is already there…But his fingers are flicking against the crown and oh holy mother of God, that hurts please stop Bill - let go, don’t....
Tom cries out in pain from Bill’s agonising flick and there’s nothing left to say but cry from all the conflicting emotions coursing through him He’s weeping in frustration and not a little bit of pain and a lot of desperation because he’s been on edge for five days and he just wants to come down from the tension high he’s on right now.
But Bill still has something to say. “I said no. What part of that didn’t you understand?” and his hand is still on Tom’s tormented chest but it’s gradually releasing the tight grip, and Tom’s crying doesn’t abate one little bit.
“Please - oh - Bill!”
“I said no. I told you to wait. Why didn’t you?” Bill’s fingers are now just stroking his chest, softly brushing over the reddened, abused skin of his nipple but it’s not as soothing as it should be because all he can think about is what he’s just done. “Hmmm? Answer me, Tom.”
“Because it hurts. I’m so desperate, please - just once...” Tom is pleading, and he knows it’s useless but Bill is still not letting him come and he just needs it. Not want; it’s kind of gone beyond mere want right now.
“No, Tom.” Bill looks determined and there’s anger behind his eyes, anger and sadness and disappointment. and Tom feels like crying all over again. He’s just fucked up in front of Bill, done the worst thing he possibly could have done and now he’s got to pay for it.
Bill reaches down, checks on the chastity device but Tom didn’t get anywhere near close enough to removing it. “How long have you had this on?” He asks and Tom struggles to articulate what he knows the answer to be; the pain in his chest is nothing compared to the pain from his dick and it’s making his brain jumpy and difficult to focus.
“Five days?” he eventually gets out and even though it sounds more like a question than the answer it is, Bill nods.
“Then you can have another three for trying to remove it... and a week for jacking yourself off when I said no.”
Tom throws his head, groans out loud, and reaches for a pillow to smother his face in. Ten whole days. He’ll go fucking insane, he knows it, because him and chastity are like fire and ice – sparks fly and he always ends up crying and begging Bill for mercy. He drums his feet under the duvet in frustration as he screams into the pillow. But Bill doesn’t like that because it’s being rude and he gets a smack to his thigh for his pains. The sharp sting hurts, pulling him out of his own head for a moment and he pushes the pillow down to stare at Bill, tears still making his sight hazy and Bill is just a cockblocking blur beside him. He waits for Bill’s next words with a sense of dread.
“Ten days with that on for your troubles, and an enema every three days.”
“No- Bill - please, I can’t-” He can’t take an enema that often and not be allowed to come, he’ll go mental by the sixth day and Bill knows it. There’s another smack to his thigh but he doesn’t care - he won’t do it and there’s nothing Bill can do to make him-
He gets another slap to his thigh and Bill grabs his chin, pulling him round to face him properly. His voice is low and severe, and Tom knows he means business now. As if he didn’t before. “Let me make one thing very clear, Tom. I said... ten days. I can very easily make it twenty. Or a month.”
Fuck Bill. Fuck the chastity fucker. Fuck the rules. Tom can’t think of anything he’d like to do more than jack off right now and he’d love to tell Bill to get the hell off his case but he can’t. That’s what he wants to say but he knows that Bill won’t let him, won’t allow him to get out from under the rules and regulations that have been growing and developing for years now. If he tries to protest, he’ll end up with his cock in the cage and wearing a plug all day as well and then he really will be in trouble. Bill is usually fair and generous but this isn’t anywhere near fair or generous and he grabs hold of the pillow, pushes his face into it and tries to bite out his frustration.
It doesn’t work.
“Don’t be so silly next time, Tom.” Bill sighs, runs a hand down Tom’s side. “You were such a good boy tonight. What changed?”
Tom shrugs because he doesn’t know why he stopped being able to take it and tried to seize control but Bill pinches his side as a warning. He likes an answer when he poses a question and Tom raises the pillow just enough to be heard. “I don’t know.” He answers.
“You were so good - I was going to let you come. Why did you disobey me?”
“Dunno,” Tom mutters, allowing Bill to take the pillow from his face but rolling to face the wall opposite, his back to his brother. He can’t look at Bill at the moment, doesn’t want to let Bill see the frustrated expression he has because in the mood Bill is in now, he’ll take it for insolence and there’s a harsh punishment for that behaviour – one he doesn’t want now. “Guess I was just too close.”
“Tell me next time. Let me know what you’re feeling.”
He did let Bill know exactly how he felt – what the fuck else could a hand reaching for his dick be? - but Bill obviously doesn’t care and Tom ignores the fact that he himself didn’t use the right words to let Bill know to stop. He tries not to use those words as a general rule anyway – the ones Bill taught him to use right at the beginning when they started doing this – the ones that would stop everything in its tracks – because it means weakness. It means…
It means throwing the towel in.
And he did it anyway, by ignoring Bill and trying to touch his own dick. He broke the three core rules to their relationship by doing that; smashed right through, and left them shattered in the dust.
Rule, the first: Listen to Bill. Tom should trust that Bill knows what’s best for him, whether it’s about sex, food, clothes, music, or girls. Bill knows what he needs and what he doesn’t and he should believe in that. If Bill didn’t want him to come then, he should have just accepted it for what it was and not tried to go around his instruction.
Rule, the second: Don’t disobey. Bill lays out rules for his Tom’s benefit and Tom should remember that and not disobey. It will only end in disaster. As exemplified by the last ten minutes.
Rule, the third: Accept punishment without complaint; don’t try to avoid it. When Bill lays down the law and decides on a punishment for him, Tom should accept what he has done wrong and apologise. He should also take his punishment properly and not try to get out of it. Bill doesn’t like to punish him anymore than Tom likes to receive it and trying to get out of it just hurts them both more in the end.
There are more rules, some outright and explicit in their details, others more subtle and difficult to describe but they all relate back in some way to listening to Bill, not being disobedient and taking the punishment without complaint.
Tom’s never managed to break all three in less than an hour before, and he senses his punishment is going to be all the harsher for it. A very large part of him is shouting that he deserves it but another part is demanding his cock be satisfied tonight.
Shut up, he tells that part of himself, sighing as his dick bounces mournfully between his thighs, neglected and hurting.
He feels Bill climb into the bed beside him, pushing the duvet out the way and then reaching under them to get to Tom’s boxers, pulling them up from his ankles. “Lift up,” Bill commands and Tom does so, sulkily and the soft cool material is soon back where it belongs, around his hips. His pyjama trousers follow the same way and when he’s fully clothed below the waist, Bill pats him right on the dick and says, “You brought this on yourself.”
“Did not,” Tom mutters but he knows it’s true. Bill probably would have let him come tonight if Tom had held back a little more, been a little better in control of himself for just a few more minutes.
There’s a warning hand on his backside and Tom tenses. Bill has never been above using his own hand to punish Tom when he needs to, never been above making him bend over the end of a bed or a chair and using the belt or the paddle and they both know it.
“Don’t be rude, Tom.” Bill cautions him and Tom sighs into the pillow, feeling his cock throb angrily under the material of his boxers and pyjamas but not willing to risk even the slightest push with his hand. Bill’s voice tells him that another transgression, however small will mean a serious spanking or even a session with the belt. “Your first enema will be tomorrow.”
“Yes, Bill.” He acquiesces without a fight.
“Now go to sleep.” There’s an arm over his waist and Bill settles against his back and Tom hugs his pillow and tries to ignore his aching dick.
He wishes Bill would let him come.