The Telemachus Story Archive

By Hooder


"Have you seen him yet?" Asked Brian.

"Who?" Donny wasn't really listening; he was busy trying to adjust his cock to a less frustrating position in the chastity shorts.

"The new guy. The one who's standing in for James while he's on holiday.

James - the Mansion's perverted, rubber-clad German butler and Master Jeff's right-hand man - was away for six weeks visiting his homeland and, whispered the boys in the dorm at night, no doubt researching new and even more unbearable ways to increase a horny boy's burning need for orgasm and to use that need to torture the boy insane.

"No. Who is he?" Donny sighed in defeat; he couldn't get his aching cock into any position that made him want to rub it less. Oh to be able to grab it, and to wank himself senseless...

They call him 'Studs'".

A shiver ran through Donny at the word. He looked up sharply, and blinked. "Studs? What's he look like?" No, the chances of that were too small to think about - but still a dreadful sense of foreboding gripped him.

Brian thrust his hips, his cock hard in his own leather shorts. "Oh fuck I'm so bloody horny. I hate these fucking shorts. You can almost cum, but not quite..."

Donny asked again, his voice level, and quiet, "What does he look like?"

Brian frowned. "Well, he's about six foot, blue eyes, blond hair, and wears a lot of leather. Very good-looking guy. Sexy."

Donny closed his eyes slowly. "Studded leather?"

"Yeah - studs all over. On his jacket and on his jeans. Why? D'ya know him?"

Donny felt the foreboding blossom into the beginnings of panic. "Gloves?"

Brian nodded. "Long black leather gauntlets, covered with studs."

Oh no. Please. Not him. The boy swallowed. "Oh yeah, I know him," he whispered. "I know him. I knew him four years ago, when I first moved to London..."

Donny was eighteen. It was his second week in the big city, having moved from living with his parents in York, and he'd been invited to his first leather party.

He'd never seen anything like it before. The whole house, it seemed, was done out in camouflage netting, chains, and leather. There were even boots hanging from the ceiling. Slaves clad in only brief leather shorts or jockstraps waited on the guests, and elaborate restraint devices stood around for the use of anyone who wished.

He spent the first hour exploring the labyrinthine interior of the house; there were passageways and rooms everywhere. In several there were boys, strapped down to beds, gagged and blindfolded - presumably also for the use of the invited guests. On an impulse, and feeling very nervous, Donny played with one boy's cock for a few minutes, tossing him off quickly and inexpertly, until the lad shot his load into Donny's hand. He wiped it on the bed, leaving a sticky white stain. Donny found the fact that the boy was blindfolded and had no idea who had made him cum, extremely horny. He wished it was he who was in that position.

There were more boys in adjacent rooms, and he was inspecting one of them when he heard footsteps approaching down the corridor. For some reason he suddenly felt guilty about being there, and looked round in panic for somewhere to hide. A large fire screen stood in a corner, and he concealed himself behind it.

A figure paused at the doorway, then entered quietly and locked the door behind him. From behind the screen, Donny saw a guy in a black-visored crash helmet, and wearing studded biker leathers. The heavy chrome studs covered one arm of his leather jacket, both the shoulders, the lapels, and collar; a double line of them ran down the outside of the legs of his black leather jeans; there were studs on the back pockets, and his bulging crotch was completely covered with them. There were even studs on his high leather boots. On his hands were long black leather gauntlets - also studded - and he was carrying a small bag, which he put on the bed. From it he took a wide leather blindfold, which he secured over the boy's face on top of the one he was already wearing, and then he inspected the lad's gag, making sure it would be effective . Satisfied that the boy could see nothing, and could make no noise, he removed his crash helmet.

The biker was extremely good looking, with clear blue eyes and golden blond hair. Donny's cock hardened in his tight, shiny pvc jeans (he had no leather yet and these were the closest he'd got) and he played absently with it through his jeans as he watched.

The biker opened his leather jacket and Donny saw that there was a small black box attached to the belt of his leather jeans. He adjusted a knob on the box, and knelt on the bed between the boy's spread legs. Wordlessly, he raised his hands, and a smile of anticipation settled onto his face. Slowly, he lowered one hand and gripped the helpless boy's balls gently. The lad groaned in surprise and pleasure at the touch. Then the biker lowered his other hand and stroked a single finger lightly along the length of the lad's hard cock shaft.

Instantly the boy convulsed. He yelled into the gag and struggled against his restraints. Open-mouthed, Donny watched, realizing that the studs on the gauntlets were delivering painful electric shocks to the boy's genitals. This was fiendish.

The biker stroked his gauntleted hands over the boy's balls, cock shaft and inner thighs, carefully avoiding the sensitive cock head. His victim's convulsions made him bounce up and down on the bed, and that evil smile never left his face. It apparently needed both hands in contact with skin to produce the pain, as when only one was touching, the boy collapsed back onto the bed, gasping and sweating.

After a while the biker removed both hands, then pulled off the studded codpiece from his leather jeans. His cock - thick and hard, stabbed out into the air. He stroked it slowly with his right hand for a while, then unplugged a thin cable from that gauntlet and removed the studded glove, throwing it to the side. It landed on the edge of the bed, then slid onto the floor. He switched off the box, and with infinite care, he wrapped the leather fingers of his left hand over the boy's bare cock head, positioning one metal stud right in the piss-slit and others in contact with the flange. Keeping that hand there, he rotated the control on the box to a higher setting, and switched it on.

The boy shrieked into the gag. His muscular body stiffened, and he fought the restraints with every ounce of his strength. He writhed and twisted, trying to get away from that studded hand on his cockhead but the biker followed his movements easily, keeping it precisely in position. Suddenly, great fountains of white spunk shot out of his cock, landing all over the biker's leather jeans.

The biker kept his hand there, waiting for the boy's orgasm to finish. Donny waited for him to remove it, collect his things and leave - but instead, once the boy had cum, the biker turned the electrical box UP yet another notch and started to wank himself, keeping the studded gauntlet exactly where it was, on the now hypersensitive cockhead.

The helpless boy screamed and writhed, begged and pleaded, but very little noise actually escaped the gag. His muscles strained and flexed, he fought and struggled, the pain on his cock head now totally unbearable.

The biker was wanking himself, and Donny prayed for him to cum, so that he would stop torturing the boy - but the leatherclad fiend was enjoying the suffering of the blindfolded, gagged, helpless boy too much. The evil smile on his face had now given way to a grin of pure sadism, and his hand kept slowing on his cock, to make it last longer....

He adjusted the electrical box yet again, and the boy's screams went up an octave.The sadistic expression on the biker's face was now mixed with intense concentration as he watched his victim suffering under the electricity shooting into his cockhead from the studded leather gauntlet.

Donny was horrified at both the torture and also the fact that as he watched it, he was cumming in his pvc jeans. He'd never seen anyone tortured before, and it was the pure sadism, the practised skill and the ease with which the biker was causing the boy so much intense pain that was turning him on so much. That and the fact that the good looking guy looked so incredibly sexy in that studded black leather.

Finally, the biker came. His body spasmed a few times as his spunk jetted out and ran down over the boy's heaving stomach, but he made no sound. He removed his hand from the lad's cock, and turned the electrical box off. The victim lay panting and moaning into the gag. The biker re-attached his studded codpiece, put his crash helmet back on, pulled the black visor down, and then removed the blindfold he'd fitted over the existing one. He leaned close to the boy's head and whispered his first words since entering the room: "And you have no idea who did this to you, do you, boy..." He turned and left the room.

Donny stood up. His legs ached from squatting for so long in one position behind the screen, and as he did so his cooling spunk ran down the inside of his pvc jeans. Slowly, he approached the spreadeagled boy - and then he saw the single studded leather gauntlet lying on the floor. The one the biker had removed so he could wank himself. He'd forgotten it - and that meant he'd be back! He picked it up, ran to the door and out into the corridor... and collided head-on with the biker.

The biker froze. Donny could see the wheels turning in his head - this boy had run out of the room seconds after he'd... so he must have been hiding in there all the time. In which case he'd seen everything.

Holding him by the chin, the biker moved Donny's head from side to side slowly as if committing his face to memory. "I will remember you, boy." He paused for a moment, took the gauntlet out of Donny's hand, then turned and walked off down the corridor.

That had been four years ago. Donny was twenty-two years old now, and considerably more experienced. But he still looked the same - and that worried him a lot.

"Did you tell anybody?" Asked Brian

"No. I went back to the party. A bit later on there was talk of something having happened in one of the rooms, and someone said they'd seen 'Studs' go down that way a while ago. But he'd gone by then."

"Are you going to say anything to Master Jeff?"

"I don't know. Should I?"

"Well," said Brian, "he sounds dangerous - if it's the same guy, and if what you saw was what really happened - no I'm not doubting you Donny, but it might have been arranged, or... oh I don't know, you know as well as I do how scenes can be set up sometimes. They're not always what they seem to be."

Donny nodded glumly. He didn't have any evidence. Perhaps it wasn't the same guy. Perhaps it had been arranged. Perhaps Studs wouldn't remember him. No doubt he would find out soon.

Still cursing the leather chastity shorts, the two boys tried to get to sleep.

* * *

Master Jeff introduced Studs formally the next morning before breakfast. "Boys, I'd like you to meet Adrian. Well, Adrian is his name, but you may call him 'Studs'. I shall expect you to give him every bit as much respect as you do James. In James's absence, he is in charge of discipline, of organising the entertainment evenings, and of keeping you boys just the way I like: nice and horny."

Studs stood up and looked along the line of boys who were stood to attention facing him. Donny breathed a silent sigh of relief as the blond man's gaze swept slowly over him without hesitating. "I'd like to thank Master Jeff for inviting me to stand in for James, and I assure you that my required standards are every bit as exacting as his. You boys and I will get to know each other very well, very soon." He sat down again, leaned towards Chris, the Mansion's head slave and whispered to him, nodding his head towards the line of boys as he did so. Chris nodded in understanding, and then signalled for the boys to sit and begin breakfast.

At the end of the meal, when it was customary for any general orders or notifications to be given, Chris clapped his hands for silence. "Brian, Colin and Donny, you will report to Studs' office immediately after breakfast."

Donny swallowed, and his insides turned upside down. What was this all about? Still, it wasn't just him Studs wanted to see...

James' - now Studs' - office was in the west wing, next to one of the biggest playrooms. The three boys, wearing only their regulation black rubber stim shorts, waited nervously outside as Brian knocked on the door. A red light lit up on the doorframe, with the word 'WAIT' on it. Five minutes later they were still there, getting more worried by the second. Finally the red light changed to the green "ENTER', and a soft buzzer sounded. In single file, they went in to meet Studs.

The man was still wearing his full studded leather gear, and was sitting behind the desk drinking a cup of coffee. The boys waited silently until he finished it and put it down on the desk beside his studded leather gauntlets.

"Good morning boys. I've called you here because according to my records you three are currently the longest no-cummers. Is that right?"

Brian spoke: "Yes, Sir. We're due for milking today Sir." James kept the boys on a strict rotation - they were milked every twelve days. This, he reasoned, was often enough to keep their balls functioning at maximum, tormenting capacity, while making the periods between milkings as unbearably prolonged as possible. And indeed it did just that. By the end of the period, after twelve days not only of not cumming, but also the five sessions of teasing and tormenting at James' or one of the senior slaves' hands each day - not to mention the rubber stim shorts they had to wear, whose internal soft rubber spikes were designed to tickle their cock and balls with every tiny movement they made - the boys were, as intended, half insane with the need to cum.

"Excellent. Now - discipline, as you know, is a very important part of life here at the Mansion; and to enforce discipline, punishment is necessary. But punishment only works best if you know what it's like, don't you agree?"

"Yes Sir!" The three boys had no option but to reply in the affirmative, and they did so in unison.

"You're all very familiar with James' methods of punishment, but you're not familiar with mine. And so, begrinning with you three, I'm afraid you're going to have to experience it - just a taste, so that you will know to avoid it. One by one he unlocked the three boys' chastity shorts. "Take off your shorts, boys."

The lads removed their shorts and Studs strapped Brian to the punishment horse in the corner of the room. This device was used by James to administer 'private' punishments (as opposed to ones which were carried out before the gaze of the other boys in the main dungeon). It consisted of a short, padded horizontal board on sturdy legs. The end of the board had a V-shaped notch cut in it, and the victim was bent over onto the board, his arms, legs and thighs strapped to its wooden legs, his stomach and torso to the board, and with his cock and balls in the notch, which kept them pointing downwards away from his body. James had found this position ideal for arse beating, for prostate stimulation, and for cum-denial punishment, at which he was a supreme expert.

Satisfied that Brian was strapped in securely, Studs produced a device from behind his desk. It was a studded wooden paddle - not particularly large or heavy, but with five rows of metal studs on one surface. From the handle ran a wire, which he plugged into a box, Another wire from the box ended in a carbon-fibre cockring, and Studs fitted this around Brian's cock and balls.

"Now, gentlemen, please observe." He adjusted a dial on the box, and gently touched Brian's arse with the paddle. Brian's body stiffened, and he screamed.

"Brian, if you make a sound next time, your milking today will be cancelled and you will go on double teasing sessions until the next one, in twelve days' time. Do you understand?"

Brian almost sobbed. Another twelve days without cumming plus double tormenting sessions was the worst thing he could think of right now. He was so horny that even his position on the horse, with his cock held back made him need to cum so badly he could hardly think about anything else. "Yes, sir..." he managed to croak.

"Good." Once again Studs touched the cheeks of his arse with the electric paddle, and again Brian screamed. He couldn't stop himself as unbearable, searing pain shot through his arse.

Studs chuckled. "Don't worry Brian, I won't cancel your milking for that. I just wanted to show the other two how effective this instrument is. Now, please feel free to make as much noise as you want." With that he raised the paddle and gave Brian ten hard strokes across both cheeks. Each one brought a scream from the helpless boy, intermingled with constant sobbing and pleading. At the end of the punishment, Brian had difficulty standing.

"Next - you, Donny." Trembling, Donny walked across to the horse and allowed himself to be strapped down.

"There are several different instruments which can be attached to this box," Studs explained to the others conversationally. "I'll demonstrate a different one for you." He disconnected the paddle and attached what looked like a feather - it was shaped like one, but was made of some very thin metallic material. It bent and waved in his hand as he held it up for them to see. "So fragile, so delicate. But watch..." He changed the setting on the electrical box, and then carefully he applied the tip of the metal feather to the back of Donny's balls, holding it there. For a moment nothing happened, and then Donny groaned. The groan became more urgent, then turned into a yell, a scream, and finally a shriek. He struggled and fought against the straps holding him down, but they held him immobile.

I can either keep this in one place, or move it about, for different effects..." Studs was clearly enjoying himself, as the massive bulge in his studded leather codpiece jeans testified. He stroked the metal feather around, over the sides and bottom of Donny's balls, all the time watching the boy's writhing and listening to his desperate screaming with a satisfied grin on his face.

Donny's knees gave way when he was released from the horse, and the others helped him to stand. He never ever wanted to experience anything like that again in his life.

"Colin, your turn I believe." When the boy was strapped down, Studs picked up one of the leather gauntlets from the desk. "Another variation." He plugged the gauntlet in, and made a further adjustment to the box. "This is one of my favourites," he said, holding the studded glove up. "It can give extreme pleasure, or extreme pain..." He turned to Colin, "...which is what it's going to do now."

Gently, he ran a finger and thumb down the length of Colin's steel-hard cock shaft, stopping short of the head. Instantly, the boy screamed - a high, keening sound that was quite dreadful to hear. The fingers then held the boy's cock tightly for a moment, the metal studs conducting the sizzling electrical energy into the sensitive nerves, and Colin's tormented screaming became even louder. Studs removed his hand, and then, briefly, held just the cock head between his fingers. Colin's body bounced in the straps, his head banging on the padded table, an animal screech of pure agony escaping his lips.

Studs switched the box off, removed the gauntlet, and unstrapped the shaking boy. He was incapable of standing, and had to be gently placed on the floor.

The biker waited until Colin had recovered a little, then smiled at the three. "So, you see my punishments may not be the same as James', but I think you'll agree that they are just as effective, and to be avoided. Yes?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Excellent. Now - I require an amusement. Over there you will find three pairs of jeans. Each has your name on. Put them on please. There are some trainers there for you as well."

The boys took the jeans and struggled into them - the denim was thin, faded and worn, but stretchy. They were also a size or two smaller than what they usually wore. When the last one had managed to get the zip done up, and they'd put on the white trainers, Studs looked at them, playing with his cock. The jeans were skintight on the boys, clinging smoothly and without a single wrinkle to their thighs and legs below their muscular bodies and firm, slim waists. The feel of the denim against their naked skin was making their cocks harden quickly and, as he watched, the stretchy denim was moving outwards visibly between their legs, accommodating the growing hardness of the cocks inside. Colin's hand strayed towards his frustrated bulge.

"COLIN! Get your hand away!"

Colin jumped in fright, and put his hands behind his back.

"Mmm... I love tight jeans," said Studs. "All three of you are going to follow me into the playroom in a moment. We're going to play a game." He looked along the line of the three boys, then his gaze came to rest on Colin. "Erm... Colin, I think. Yes." He fixed the boy with his blue eyes. "Colin, your part in this game is simple: you will not allow yourself to cum. No matter what happens, how horny you get, whatever the other two boys do to you, you will not cum. If you cum at any time while you are in the playroom, I will strap you to this horse and use the gauntlet on the head of your cock until you can't scream any more, after which I will use the metal feather on your balls, and finally give you twenty strokes with the electric paddle. Do you understand that?"

Colin was white-faced and open-mouthed. Even the thought of that made him feel sick. "Y-yes sir."

"I can't hear you, boy."

"Yes Sir! I understand Sir. I must not cum, Sir!"

"Good." He turned to the other two boys. "Now your part in the game is equally easy to understand. You will make Colin cum. You will do whatever is necessary to make him cum in his jeans. If you fail, you will each receive exactly the same punishment. You may not use any of the equipment in the playroom, and your cocks will stay inside those sexy, tight jeans - but you may discuss strategies in here, now, if you wish. Any questions?"

Donny and Brian shook their heads. "No Sir!" It was crystal clear. They would not - could not go through that torture. They looked at Colin and very slight, predatory smiles came to their lips. It was two against one, and they knew exactly what each other's weaknesses were.

Brian leaned towards Donny and began to whisper something to him.

"Out loud, if you please."

Brian coughed. "Sorry Sir!" He looked at Colin, but spoke to Donny. "We'll get him on the floor. You sit astride his chest and arms to hold him down, and I'll squeeze his balls, gradually more and more, and work on his cock." His smile became evil."When he's close, I'll say 'now', and you roll his nipples hard between your thumb and finger. Really hurt him. That always makes him cum."

Colin's cock jerked between his legs. Having his balls slowly squeezed turned him on like fuck - but his nipples were the key - if they worked on them like that when he was close it would make him lose control in seconds. If only he wasn't so fucking horny! Even hearing the two others planning how to get him helpless and make him cum was turning him on like crazy. But the thought of what Studs would do to him if he came was terrifying.

Donny was very glad that it was Colin and not he who was the victim - Donny had an intense fetish for skintight jeans - and the ones Studs had given him to wear felt so horny, he just prayed that he could last out until this was finished without cumming himself.

"All done?" Asked Studs.

"Yes Sir!"

"Ok - into the playroom." The boys followed the man into the playroom - a large space with rubber-covered floor and walls, and equipment placed around the edges. The door closed behind them. Studs sat down and made himself comfortable. "Ok boys, go to it."

In just the stretchy, skintight jeans and trainers, the three boys circled each other slowly for a while, Colin trying not to let himself get between the other two. Then Donny moved in quickly, feinting, and while Colin's attention was on him, Brian rugby-tackled Colin suddenly, pulling the boy to the floor.

Donny and Colin scrambled around for a moment, and Donny was in the process of getting his leg across Colin's body to sit on him, when Brian suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth, gagging him, and pulled him back hard against his body with his other hand, trapping one of Donny's arms behind him.

Now freed from the boy's weight on him, Colin jumped up, his hands going for Donny - who yelled into the gagging hand and instantly curled up into a very tight ball, to make his cock unreachable. He only had one hand free to fight his attacker off with, and Colin grabbed it. This meant that Colin too had only one hand to work on the boy.

All the boys at the Mansion knew each other well - their turn-ons, weaknesses and fetishes - and these three boys knew each other's better than most, as they'd been good friends for a long time, and discussed things with each other a lot. Colin knew exactly what to do to Donny to make him cum.

Slowly, he worked his hand between Donny's thighs from behind, intending to grip the boy's hard, precum-oozing cock with his fingers and toss him off like that - He'd learnt that technique as being one which made it impossible for the victim to get his cock away from a milking hand no matter how he moved or what position he got himself into; and it was also perfect for Donny - feeling something gripped between his thighs made him want to cum, and if that something was also a hand that was working on the head of his cock, he stood no chance.

But Donny had had no intention of cumming - the punishment would be just too severe. He had very muscular thighs, and he clamped them together like a vice to keep the invading hand out.

Colin pushed harder, moving his fingers and relentlessly trying to work his flattened hand in between the boy's tight-jeaned thighs - but he was finding it much more difficult that he'd imagined possible. He felt his fingertips touch Donny's balls, and he tickled them for a moment. The boy yelled into the gagging hand, and fought to free his hands, but Brian and Colin had an unbreakable grip on them.

Colin's fingers felt unbelievably sexy on his balls, tickling them lightly through the thin denim - but he could, albeit with difficulty, handle that. If he let that hand get any further through, though, he knew he'd lose it in seconds. But he could keep that hand where it was.

Colin had come to the same conclusion. He had to get his hand onto Donny's cock - and preferably without parting the boy's legs - he could probably force the lad's legs apart with his own, but he didn't want to do that because he knew that it was the feeling of rape that would make Donny cum most easily, and allowing him to stay curled up would make that feeling of rape more intense. So he continued to push, continued to work his fingers, millimeter by millimeter deeper between the struggling, desperately horny boy's tight-jeaned thighs.

Squinting between Donny's thighs and his stomach, Colin could see the hard, bulging outline of the boy's cock, and that the tip of his middle finger was very close to it - only half an inch separated his fingernail from the thin, precum-soaked denim covering the sensitive cock-head. He gritted his teeth as he worked his hand further in.

Donny could feel the hand getting closer despite all his efforts to stop it. He tried to move, to twist away from it, but the other two were holding him so he couldn't move enough. He screwed up his face as he squeezed his thighs together even harder to keep Colin's fingers from touching his cock.

Colin moved his middle finger experimentally, and felt the incredibly light - but unmistakable - scratch of his fingernail over denim. He'd made contact. Although it was impossible for Colin to get his hand any further in, his fingernail was just touching the head of the boy's cock - and there was nowhere Donny could move to get away from it. He'd got him.

Donny's body stiffened as he felt the unbelievably horny touch of that finger on his cock. He screamed into the gagging hand: "NOOOO!!!!!" But there was no way he could escape from that gently scratching fingernail.

Colin moved his finger forwards and back, forwards and back, and the nail scratched lightly over the tip of Donny's desperately horny cock bulge. He kept it very slow - there was no need to rush - the more time the boy had to feel himself helplessly losing control, the better.

Donny struggled and fought, screaming obscenities into Brian's hand - but it got him nowhere. He was gagged and held helpless; he was hard and horny in skintight jeans; and there was a hand between his thighs, working on the very tip of his cock-head through skintight, faded denim - in short, every one of Donny's most intense fetishes and turn-ons were being exploited.

He screwed up his face under the hand in concentration. He MUST NOT CUM! He imagined being strapped down to the horse, with that fiendish, agonising studded gauntlet torturing his cock head - but he stood no chance against the hand gagging him and the helplessness and the fingernail working so gently and slowly on his cockhead. He felt himself losing control... With a scream of frustration he willed himself not to cum - but the boys knew exactly what his weaknesses were. At that moment he heard a quiet chuckle from Colin - the lad knew he'd got him, that it was only a matter of time before Donny came, and that there was fuck-all the boy could do about it.

The fingertip continued to work on the one spot Donny could not resist, neither speeding up nor slowing down - and Donny Felt the unmistakable, slow beginning of orgasm. He was hyperventilating - he knew he was going to lose it, and that it was going to be a shattering orgasm - but he knew that somehow, somehow he had to stop himself. The thought of the punishment at the hands of that sadistic bastard Studs was terrifying. He tried to remember what it had felt like when that electrified metal feather had touched his naked balls - and he never ever wanted to experience that again. But as one part of his mind remembered that awful pain and resolved to avoid it at all costs by not cumming, another part - the part where his fetishes and turn-ons lived - was being coaxed and encouraged by the feeling of that relentless, teasingly gentle, inescapable fingertip forced between his thighs and working on the head of his cock through the sexy, thin, faded denim jeans.

The two parts of his mind fought each other to the death as he struggled madly under the boys' hands, and for a timeless moment of supreme, ecstatic intensity the battle was exactly equal - suspended on a knife edge, able to go either way. But Colin's fingertip continued to do its irresistible work, the nail scratching so slowly and so lightly over the denim-covered cock-head. It had all the time in the world, and Colin knew that Donny couldn't hold out much longer, that it was impossible for a horny boy to fight against his fetishes and win - and that it would make him cum despite anything he could do to stop himself.

With a scream of frustration and pure fury, Donny came. Twelve days' worth of pent-up, creamy white spunk erupted from his cock and forced its way through the denim of his jeans, running down over the bulge of his balls and between his legs. His cock throbbed rhythmically, moving inside the tight denim and pushing hard against Colin's finger with each pulse, and his entire body convulsed as he succumbed to one of the most intense orgasms of his life. The milking fingertip, buried deep in the warm, wet denim, continued to work on his helplessly jerking, ejaculating cock until he was completely dry.

"Ok boys, release him," said Studs. He was wiping his own cock dry of spunk with a paper towel after having wanked himself off while watching the show.

The lads disentangled themselves, and Donny lay in the floor, exhausted. He looked up, humiliated, terrified at the prospect of the promised punishment, and not understanding what had happened, or why.

Studs laughed at Donny's expression. "You didn't think I'd remembered you, did you...?"

Donny's face went red. "N-no, Sir."

"Well of course I did. I remembered you the moment I saw you - which was yesterday, by the way, as you were going into the small dungeon in the east wing." He laughed again. "I'm afraid this was all planned. I talked to Brian and Colin yesterday and told them what I wanted to happen, and to go along with the pretense that Colin was going to be the victim today." He bowed his head to the other two boys, "excellent acting there. Well done." He looked at Donny again. "I wanted you to cum in the most humiliating way possible, and while you were terrified of the consequences of cumming, so that you were really doing everything you could to stop yourself."

"But - but why, Sir?"

"Because the thing that turns me on more than anything else is seeing boys being forced to cum against their will - really against their will. When I saw you, and remembered what had happened at that party, I knew you'd remember me, and that you'd be very worried about it; that you would think I'd punish you all the more severely because of that. By the way, that that boy at the party was there just for me. His Master had asked me to be there and to do exactly what I did to him because the boy wanted it . That's how it was. I'm not into torturing boys who don't want it or don't deserve it as punishment." He smiled at them, and the smile was not unfriendly. "It was a little game. Did you enjoy your orgasm?"

"Oh fuck yes, Sir! It was the most intense I've ever had."

"Good - because you know it's going to be twelve days before your next."

There was a silence in the room for a few moments, and then Donny asked, nervously, "What about the..."

"The punishment? The demonstration was real enough, and all the boys will have that over the next day or so - but your punishment was only a threat. Don't worry, I've switched the electrical box off for the time being."

Donny's head fell back onto the floor in relief.

"Now, Studs finished reattaching his leather codpiece and settled back in the chair. "I am going to want some more entertainment of this kind shortly, and the punishment for cumming will be more realistic - twenty-four days before your next milking."

The boys swallowed. Not that. Please, not that. The standard twelve day period was unbearable enough - twice that was unthinkable. They'd go insane.

"So, Donny," Studs fixed the boy with a steady gaze, a sideways smile on his lips. "Tell me exactly what Colin and Brian can't resist. Tell me their biggest, most irresistible weaknesses and fetishes - what can be done to them to make them cum however hard they try to fight it."

Donny glanced at Brian and Colin, who were looking very frightened indeed. He sat up, thought for a moment, then smiled slowly. Revenge was so sweet. "Oh, I can tell you exactly what you want to know."

He gazed at Brian. Brian looked back, aware that Donny knew precisely what his triggers were. His expression told Donny that if he said a single word...

Donny's smile was even broader now. "First, Brian. He's got lots of turn-ons, and I'll get to those in a moment - but there is one in particular that will get him every time. And there is absolutely no way he can fight it..."