Danny was loving this game. He’d discovered 2ndWorld a few days ago and in it he could explore, build stuff, and meet people – well, their avatars, at least. It took him a week to learn how everything worked, during which time he also designed his own avatar (it had started off looking like him, but he’d got a bit carried away and it had ended up being rather more what he wished he looked like). He was a biker in real life, and had a healthy fetish for leather, so his avatar was a hunky guy with long hair and tight black gear. For the first week after he’d made it, even seeing it on the screen got him hard. He very much doubted whether the sexy guys he met actually looked anything like their avatars either, but that didn’t seem to matter.
Danny was a programmer, so it had been a trivial matter for him to learn the game’s scripting system, and he was soon building bondage frames, tables and other devices for having virtual sex on – and by the time he’d been playing the game for two months he had a castle with a dungeon, and several regular slaves whom he played with and fucked in assorted positions. He loved wanking off while he was watching it on the screen.
This was all very well, but Danny was a sub himself, and he longed for it to be him who was strapped down and being abused. The problem was that there weren’t many tops in 2ndWorld, and everybody he fancied seemed to be sub.
Until he met Carlton.
Carlton was gorgeous: big, muscular, always wore black leathers, and every inch a top. He was excellent at roleplay – something Danny hadn’t been very good at – but with Carlton guiding him, it didn’t take long for him to learn how to do it. They began playing with each other once a week or so, then a bit more often, and finally it was almost every evening. Danny was wanking himself silly watching the two leatherboys on the screen, and loving every minute of it.
During their sex sessions there would be frequent breaks, during which they just chatted; Danny learned that Carlton actually lived in Holland, and was a biker himself. The guy also had a wonderfully devious mind, and came up with lots of interesting ideas for devices he could use on the boy, but he wasn’t a scripter. Danny, however, was – in his daytime job he developed code for a game company – and on Carlton’s orders, he designed bondage tables with magnetic restraints, a hood that turned his screen black when it was put onto him so that he really couldn’t see what was going on, and other ingenious devices. They played together almost every day, but Carlton could never do Monday nights, and that gave Danny time to turn Carlton’s ideas into actual items that the guy could use on him.
Gradually, Carlton took more and more control over the boy’s virtual life: first by restricting what he was allowed to do to other guys in the game, and later by stopping him from playing with anyone else at all. Danny was perfectly happy with this – he lived for Carlton and would do anything the hunky top told him to do.
Shortly after Danny had finished making an edging table, where Carlton could control, by means of buttons on the screen, exactly how close the boy’s avatar was to orgasm when he was working on his cock – and thereby allowed him to prevent the boy from cumming – things spilled over into real life.
“I want you to stop wanking – and I mean in real life.” Carlton told him one night. “From now on you will cum only when you’re online with me. I want you as horny as fuck when I’m with you, and I want to control your orgasms really, not just in 2ndW.”
The thought of being controlled even more deeply like this made Danny hot with need. That was perfect! He agreed immediately. The rule was: whenever Carlton made Danny’s avatar cum in the game, Danny could wank himself off in real life as it was happening. And those were the only times the boy was allowed orgasm.
At first, Carlton made Danny’s avatar cum at the end of each session. Then every other one. As time went on, more and more sessions would end without the boy getting relief. Soon Danny was only cumming once a week, and then every two weeks. Right now, Danny hadn’t cum for twenty-one days, and he was bursting.
“I’m horny all the fucking time, Carlton,” he typed. “I’ve got blue balls. Please let me cum tonight.”
“I know you are, but not tonight, boy. I’ve got something very special lined up for you. It will happen very soon, but not just yet. I want you screaming to be allowed to cum when I do it. And don’t you fucking dare wank before then. I know you well now, and I can tell by the way you type exactly how horny you are.”
“I know you fucking can. It’s not fair. How long? I walk around with a permanent erection. I need to cum.”
“Just a few more days, boy. Saturday. You’ll cum on Saturday night. I want you here at 8pm. You can do it. Do it for me. You want to go on seeing me, don’t you?”
“Oh fuck you know I do.” The thought of losing Carlton was horrifying.
“Well then, four more days. Do NOT cum before then.” Carlton’s avatar went grey – he’d gone offline.
“Thanks, Mark.” Danny took the beer bottle and looked around for a couple of seats. The pub was busy and the only table that wasn’t fully occupied already had Baz sitting at it. Baz was a skinhead. He was slim and wiry, but solid muscle. He got on fine with Mark, but for some reason he’d always been a pain in the arse with Danny. The guy was full of himself and always seemed to want to score points over the boy. But there was nowhere else to sit.
Mark chuckled when he saw the seating situation. “Just try to ignore him.” They sat down. “Hi Baz. How’s things?”
Baz was wearing what he’d always been wearing whenever Danny had seen him: a tight white tank top with an open, olive-green MA1 bomber jacket over it, and skintight bleached jeans with turn-ups over his highly-polished cherry red Dr Martens. He had the usual skinhead buzz-cut, a sharp nose and a thin face. Danny privately called him the Ferret.
Baz nodded. “Hi Mark. Things are good ta.” His smile for Mark lost some of its warmth when he acknowledged Danny.
Danny sat silently while the other two chatted about trivia for a while, but then the conversation ran out. Mark took a drink, then turned to Danny. “You’re looking full of life. How’s Carlton?”
When he’d first met the amazingly hunky guy on 2ndWorld, Danny had been bursting to tell Mark everything about him, and he’d eagerly kept his friend updated about his developing relationship with him. Mark was fascinated – and encouraging – he’d even made suggestions before now. Danny wouldn’t normally have talked about it in front of Baz, but he was so fucking horny at the moment that his hard cock took over the conversation. He leaned towards Mark and lowered his voice to an urgent whisper. “I am so fucking horny you would not believe. Carlton’s controlling my orgasms as well now. I mean in real life. I’m not allowed to wank myself off unless he makes me cum in a session online.”
Mark raised his eyebrows and grinned. “Wow,” his voice was low too. “Chastity. So when was the last time he let you shoot?”
“Three fucking weeks ago. And he says he’s gonna do something special Saturday night. I gotta be online at 8 o’clock and I can’t cum before then.”
Mark chuckled. “Your balls must be bright blue.”
“Fucking tell me about it.” He took a gulp of beer.
“You’ve got willpower, I’ll say that. Not sure I could go for three weeks.”
“I don’t know how I’m gonna last three more days . Even just thinking about him in those leathers makes me need to cum.” Danny reached under the table and adjusted his hard cock in his jeans.
Thursday.
There was a crisis at work on Thursday – one of the servers had gone down – and that distracted Danny sufficiently until he got home, but his session with Carlton that evening was not easy to deal with. To be fair, the guy didn’t edge him, but he’d bought some new leathers and he showed them to the boy. They were skintight and bulged in all the right places. By the time they logged off Danny was drooling.
Friday.
Friday was worse: he couldn’t concentrate at work and images of Carlton kept appearing between his eyes and the code he was working on. It was OK – nobody else noticed his distraction – but he didn’t get much done.
When he logged on to the game that evening it was into a space with featureless white walls. Carlton was already there and had built temporary screens to hide the dungeon. “I’m decorating for tomorrow and I don’t want you to see it until then,” he said. Then he immediately teleported them both to another location. “This place belongs to a friend of mine. We’ll use it tonight.”
The devices that Danny had built were all back at the castle, so without them the session was relatively vanilla, but even just being tied up and seeing that gorgeous leather hunk standing over him was enough to make Danny desperate to cum. The session was shorter than usual, though, and somehow he got through it.
“You all ready for tomorrow? I want you online in the dungeon, at exactly 8pm. No earlier, no later.”
“Yes Sir!” Danny knew when to be formal with Carlton and when he could just chat normally. This had been an order.
“How horny are you?”
“A fucking feather on my dick would make me shoot.”
“Excellent. Ok. I’m going to be here earlier getting things ready, but you do NOT appear until exactly 8. Clear?”
“Clear, Sir. I can’t wait. See you tomorrow!”
“Ah yes, speaking of seeing, that reminds me - put the hood on when you arrive – before you do anything else. I want you blind to start with.”
“Understood. Sir!”
Saturday.
Saturday was impossible. Danny’s cock was hard when he woke up and it stayed that way. He had to get through the whole day somehow, and it was not going to be easy. He considered going out for a ride on the bike, but he knew that even touching his leather gear right now – let alone squeezing into his tight, sexy leather jeans – would very probably end up with spunk everywhere, so he decided against that. Instead he put boxers and a loose pair of jeans on; this was almost unheard of – he always wore tight jeans, commando, cos it felt so horny, but that would have been extremely inadvisable too.
He hated shopping, and he needed lots of stuff, so he forced himself to amble slowly around several supermarkets and heave carrier bags home. That had got rid of most of the morning. The afternoon presented problems: he had nothing to do. He read for a while, then watched some mindless TV, but couldn’t concentrate; the long shower he took just seemed to make him even more horny. So he cleaned his flat. It didn’t need it but he did it anyway. He kept looking at the clock and the hours dragged by. It was half-past six now. Another hour and a half to get through somehow. At five past seven, as he was wiping down the coffee machine, the doorbell rang. He put the cleaning cloth away and padded down the hall.
The first thing he saw when he opened the door was something black and shiny coming towards him. That was the last thing he saw for a while too, because the hood came down over his head. By the time he’d got himself together to start to struggle, more hands had cuffed his wrists behind his back and had strapped his feet together. He heard the front door close, then he was carried bodily by two guys into the flat and dumped onto the bed.
Danny had been yelling and fighting, but to no effect. Hands pulled his jeans and boxers down to his tied ankles, then, while someone was pinning him to the bed, he felt more hands between his naked thighs and on his already-hard cock. Leather-gloved fingers wrapped around it and began to milk it.
“NO! FUCK OFF! DON’T! DON’T!”
He pulled at the cuffs behind his back, struggled and tried to kick, but it was no good – he couldn’t see who was doing what or how to fight them, and the guy holding his shoulders to the bed was strong. He tried to curl up tight to get the milking hands off him, but they followed him, the fingers sliding up and down his cock shaft and over the head.
No! He mustn’t cum! He’d managed to control himself for three weeks and the big session with Carlton was in an hour! He fought like fuck with everything he’d got.
It took seconds. Before he knew what was happening he was yelling and his body was bucking on the sheets as he felt his carefully-saved spunk shooting out helplessly into the milking hand.
They waited until he’d recovered, then they started on him again. It didn’t take much longer this time either, and soon he was thrashing on the bed again as fresh spunk joined the pools that were already there.
They left him for ten minutes, during which he heard his fridge being opened and the clink of bottles, then they came back and did him again. This time they held him with his legs bent tightly to his chest, pulled his cock back between his thighs and milked it like that. Danny struggled like fuck, but he still lost it.
Another ten minutes, and the bastards worked on him for a fourth time, holding him down on the bed again. It took a lot longer, but they wouldn’t stop – and when he felt a finger in his arse, skintight jeans and a bulge against his legs and a hot, wet mouth sucking his aching cockhead, he came again - yelling. It was almost a dry orgasm; his balls were drained.
The guy pinning him down let him go, the hands were removed. There was a quiet chuckle from one of them, then he heard them leave, closing the front door behind them.
Danny lay there fuming, his cock and balls aching. Who the fuck had they been? And how was he going to get out of this? He was still hooded, and his wrists were cuffed behind his back with a zip tie. He curled up as tight as he could and tried to work his wrists down over his jeans and feet to get them to the front. He didn’t think he was going to be able to do it, but then he managed to get one heel under the zip tie and pushed as hard as he could. It broke. He pulled off the hood and looked at it – it was a cheap PVC thing with an old rip at the back. He threw it down and rubbed his sore wrists.
Then he looked at the clock: 7:56. Shit. By the time the computer had booted up and the program had loaded it was a minute before eight. He felt empty. He’d let Carlton down. Shit shit shit.
The dungeon appeared, but before he could see what changes the guy had made to it, he remembered to put the hood on. His screen went black.
“Hello boy. I’ve got a lot planned for you tonight. You ready? I’ve got a new device for you. It’s an anti- edging table. Got a friend to help me with the scripting. Instead of you trying to cum and me not letting you, on this one I’m gonna try to make you cum and you gotta fight to stop me. You like that? I hope you’re as horny as fuck cos I’m gonna make it very difficult for ya.”
Danny groaned. He didn’t feel in the least bit horny. Not one bit.
“Yes, Sir,” he typed.
There was a long pause, then Carlton typed: “You little cunt. You’ve fucking cum, haven’t you?”
Danny knew that the guy wouldn’t believe a word of it if he told him what had just happened. He sat back, then slowly pressed the key to disconnect.
His mind was replaying what had happened to him on the bed tonight. The feeling of being held down. Of really being helpless. Of being milked by guys he couldn’t see while he was fighting blindly with everything he’d got to stop it. He’d let guys tie him up many times before, but this was the first time restraints had actually been working against him – he’d really been struggling to stop what they were doing to him, he’d been totally powerless to do anything about it – and he’d fucking loved it. Thinking about it now, he realised that it was blowing his mind; it had been the hottest thing that had ever happened to him – and it was a fuck sight better than anything he’d done in that virtual world.
But who the hell had those guys been? Who’d organised it? He knew it could only be one person: the fucking Ferret. He must have overheard his conversation with Mark and then got a mate to help him to milk Danny just to ruin his fun.
Despite everything that had happened to it this evening, Danny’s cock was getting hard again.
Mark wasn’t in the pub tonight, but Baz was. He was wearing the same gear as always. There were a few empty seats, but Danny went over to the skinhead’s table. For the first time, he realised that, back-end-of-a-bus ugly as the Ferret was, he was hot. In fact he was as sexy as fuck. He wondered why he’d never noticed before. He plonked himself down. “Hi Baz.”
Baz was smirking. “How’s your online boyfriend? Have a good time with him Saturday?”
Danny looked at him. “Oh, that didn’t happen.” He took a swig of beer. “Some guys broke into my flat and milked my balls dry before we could start.”
“Yeah? Broke into your flat? Oh dear. Couldn’t ya stop yerself from cummin’, then?” Baz was having difficulty keeping a straight face.
“I could have done, but I chose not to because it was fun. I decided to let it happen. I can control myself perfectly well when I want to.”
“Can you now?”
“Oh yeah. No problem,” he lied. “In fact I’ve got a bit of a rep for that. A lot of guys have tried to make me cum in the past and failed miserably.” He took another sip of his beer. “Takes a real expert to make me lose it when I really don’t want to.”
“Is that a fact?” The smirk was still on the ferret face.
What was it about this guy? Danny wondered. Baz was as ugly as sin and yet, slouching back there with his thumbs hooked in the pockets of those skintight bleached jeans, Danny was finding him incredibly hot. He didn’t understand it – he’d never considered the guy especially sexy before. But the thought that Baz had milked him helplessly against his will while he’d been held down and hooded, was doing something to him. And it was making his cock very hard indeed.
“Piss-easy to make you lose it. Don’t matter whether you want to or not.”
Danny smiled. “I don’t think so.” He noticed then that he wasn’t the only one with an erection: there was now a very distinct bulge in Baz’s jeans.
“I know a lot about you, boy. Leather and bein’ helpless turn you on like fuck.”
“Well,” Danny paused. “Yeah. So what?”
“I know how to use fetishes on a guy.” Baz gazed at him for a while. “Ok, Mr Self-Control, tell you what. I’ll be round at your place tomorrow at 7. Just me.” A slow smile started on his face. “In tight, black leathers. You’ll be naked. I’ll fucking get you helpless and milk your cock, boy. And there won’t be a fucking thing you can do to stop me. I’ll get your fucking spunk outta you. Fight it all you fuckin’ want.”
Danny almost came in his jeans when he heard that, but managed to look like he was considering it for a while. “Ok, man,” he said finally, “you’re on. But you’ll fail. No way will you make me cum.”
Baz nodded, knowingly. He spread his legs and looked down at his crotch – the shape of his rock-hard cock was clear under the worn, skintight denim. “You got a thing for tight jeans, don't cha? Like these?” He stroked one fingertip slowly over the bulge. It jerked once.
Danny didn’t say anything.
Baz chuckled. Then he leaned forward again and whispered: “Imagine what that’s gonna look like in black leather. When there’s leather all over ya and this hard fuckin bulge is pushing into your face and you’re strugglin’ to get the fucking hood off so you can lick it and my gloved hand is between yer fucking legs milking yer cock you’ll lose every bit of that fucking self control, believe me.” He sat back, smirking again. “I’m gonna get your fucking spunk tomorrow, Danny boy. And like last time there’ll be fuck all left for your precious Carlton. And when I’ve done that I’m gonna fuck your arse. ”
Danny swallowed. This was exciting him more than anything had done for a very long time. He managed to control his voice, which was in danger of squeaking. “OK, we will see. But prepare to be very embarrassed.”
If anything, this Saturday had been even more impossible to get through than the other one had. All day he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about being wrestled into helplessness and milked by the Ferret, and by the time 7 o’clock came and he was standing naked, waiting for the doorbell to ring, he was desperate.
Baz was indeed on his own. The smirk on his face was even bigger than usual as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him with his foot. He stood looking at Danny, his hands on his hips.
Danny gaped. He’d never seen the Ferret in leather before and fuck, he looked hot. His leather jacket was ripped, the collar turned up and the arms were pushed up to the elbows; he’d changed the DMs for combat boots; and his leather jeans were as skintight as his bleachers had been. They were highly polished, and they were bulging already. On his hands were tight leather cop gloves.
Danny swallowed, imagining those leather fingers around his cock. Then found his voice. “Never seen you in leather before. Didn’t know you were into it.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, boy.” His eyes lowered to Danny’s full erection. You’ve been thinking about me already by the look of it.” He chuckled. “So, you’re gonna stop me from milking that, are ya?” He moved to the shelves. “Let’s see what might be useful…” His fingers dragged slowly over Danny’s bondage gear and he took a couple of straps, a pair of wrist cuffs, and the boy’s leather hood. He dropped them onto the floor at the side of the bed, then turned to face him. “I think we’ll do the first one without restraints. Won’t need them until the second or third time I get your spunk.” His eyes returned to the hard cock between Danny’s thighs.
Danny felt suddenly self-conscious and started to move his hands to hide it, but then Baz launched himself at him. Danny was by no means a wimp, but the Ferret’s wiry body was solid muscle and he was strong . He grabbed him and wrestled him onto the bed. Danny put up a fight but he was no match for Baz, and very soon he was lying underneath, with the ferret face laughing at him. His arms were trapped uselessly under him and there was a gloved hand already around his cock. Baz’s leathers felt so fucking sexy against his naked body and he could feel the skinhead’s hard bulge pressing into his thigh. It had taken ten seconds and Danny was already helpless. He’d have to do better than this.
Then, with a start, he realised that he was cumming. Danny threw back his head as he shot his load into the milking hand.
The Ferret’s eyes hadn’t left his own and the grin increased as he felt the boy cumming. “So, Mr Self Control,” he smirked when Danny had finally finished, “you liked that and decided to let me do it, I suppose.”
Danny’s face was red. “Yeah. Just that one. Believe me, there will be no more.”
“Uh-huh.” Baz climbed off, wiped his glove on the sheet, then picked up the things he’d put on the floor. “Ok,” he said, suddenly jumping back onto the bed and reaching for Danny, “Time to get you fuckin helpless…”
Now Danny really did struggle. He kicked and punched and swore for all he was worth, but Baz was stronger. He used his weight and his muscles to get the boy’s wrists cuffed to the top corners of the bed, then grabbed the kicking legs and strapped them together. “Could spreadeagle you completely but it’ll be fun to watch ya tryin’ to struggle.” He got on top again, his head towards Danny’s feet, and slowly lowered his crotch towards the boy’s face.
Danny tried to stop himself, but the sight of that cock bulge coming towards him in those skintight leather jeans was too much. He tried to raise his head to lick it. But he couldn’t quite reach it. Baz laughed at his efforts, and kept it just far enough away that the boy couldn’t get to it.
He jumped off the bed, picked up the hood, and inspected it, raising his eyebrows. “I’m impressed. It’s a good one. Heavy. And no eye holes. Nice.” He approached the boy with it.
Danny shook his head. “No, I want to look at you.”
“I bet you fuckin’ do.” The hood came down and was strapped on.
Again Baz lay on top and this time he thrust his bulging cock down hard into Danny’s hooded face.
The bulge in his leather jeans covered Danny’s nose and mouth, pressing the hood tight to his skin. This was so frustrating – he wanted to see it, feel it, lick it, bite it – but the hood prevented all of that. He could feel the pressure of it, the hardness, but it wasn’t that actual beautiful bulge itself. Then he realised he couldn’t breathe. His struggling increased and he tried to turn his head to break the seal so that he could get air.
A moment before he would have started to panic the pressure was gone. He heard Baz turn round on the bed, then the bulge was replaced with a hand clamped over his mouth. This time the hood’s nose holes weren’t covered so he could still breathe. The Ferret’s booted feet were locked around his ankles, preventing him from kicking, and Baz’s other hand enclosed the boy‘s cock again and started to milk it for the second time.
“Now concentrate, Mr Self Control. Only a fuckin’ expert can make you cum when you don’t want to. Remember? So fuckin’ prove it.”
Danny fought. He struggled, tried to turn over, or to curl up – anything to get that hand off his cock. They bounced around on the bed, but he couldn’t get away from the skinhead’s hand however he moved.
“Yeah….!” His leather-gloved fingers started to slip and slide on the spunk as it pumped out of Danny’s cock for the second time. The skinhead continued to milk him until the boy had collapsed back onto the bed.
He knelt astride Danny, looking down at him and squeezing his own cock through his leather jeans. “Shit, boy, this is fuckin’ turnin me on.”
Baz got off the bed and helped himself to beer from the fridge in the kitchen. He sat with his feet up on the coffee table in the living room while he waited for Danny to recover, thumbing through a motorcycle magazine with one hand while playing with his cock with the other.
He was back. “Let’s get that nasty hood off ya so you can see.”
Danny blinked in the light, then Baz lifted him bodily off the bed and put him on the floor. “Fuckin kneel.”
With his ankles strapped together he struggled to his knees. Baz stood in front of him, hands on his hips.
“Do ya like me in leathers? Or do you like those tight fuckin’ bleachers better?”
Danny thought for a moment. “Uh – difficult. With the bleachers I want to make you cum in them. The leather jeans I want to lick. Feel. Touch.”
Baz laughed. “You wanna make me cum in my bleachers? You think you fucking could?”
“Oh yeah. Get you hogtied, and hold a little vibrator right on your cockhead through those thin, worn, skintight jeans. You’d cum.”
“Show me where you’d put it.”
Danny reached forward, looking at the clearly-defined bulge in the leather jeans and traced his finger over the head of the Ferret’s cock. It came to rest just on the underside of the ridge. He felt the cock jerk under the black leather when he touched it.
Baz let out a long sigh. “Oh fuck. Yeah, just there, boy. You’re right - those bleachers are so fuckin’ worn and thin I can feel every-fuckin-thing through em. If I was hogtied in those I wouldn’t be able to fucking’ stop you. Just one bloody fingertip strokin just there would make me fuckin lose it. A vibrator would make me cream those jeans in fuckin seconds.”
Danny blinked. He could make this skinhead cum so easily? His sore cock was getting hard again at the thought of tying this guy up and milking him in his bleachers.
Baz looked down at him. It was as if he’d read his mind. “In your fuckin dreams boy. You ain’t gonna tie me up. You ain’t gonna milk my fuckin cock. And you ain’t ever gonna make me cum in my fuckin bleachers. Or in these leathers.” He ran a finger teasingly over the head of his cock bulge “Though it would be so fuckin easy if I let ya. A few strokes with your hand grippin my cock through that leather and I’d be shootin’ my fuckin’ spunk.”
Danny had to hand it to this skinhead – he was prickteasing the shit out of him, and he was good at it; Danny was rock hard again.
“Kneel up.”
Danny had been sitting back on his heels; now he straightened up.
“Feel my leather jeans. Slowly.”
Danny touched his palms to the tight leather thighs. He teased his fingertips over the shiny leather and moved them upwards to the bulging cock. He tickled the shiny round bulge of the balls and ran a finger up the shaft of the cock, which seemed to be stretching the leather out to him, as if pleading to be gripped, sucked, and wanked. The finger traced over the head, and stroked the thin leather over the sexy skinhead’s frenulum.
“STOP!” Hands knocked Danny’s away. “Fuck that was close. Nearly made me cum, boy. Lower down.”
Danny put his hands back, but on the boots and the Ferret’s calves. The jeans were so tight that there wasn’t a single crease in the leather anywhere. He could feel the solid muscles under it.
“Stand up.”
Danny stood, his cock – fully hard again – waving in the air.
Holding Danny’s cock by the base, Baz positioned it between the tops of his thighs, then closed them tightly around it, enveloping it in black leather. He pushed Danny’s face into his leather jacket and moved the boy’s arms so they were embracing him. He pulled the naked body until it was pressing tightly up against him. “Fuck those tight black leather jeans,” he whispered.
Danny knew that if he did, he’d cum again, and he had no intention of doing that. “Fuck off. I’m not cumming again for you.”
“Oh yes you fuckin’ are…” Baz wrestled him to the floor, then lay on top of the boy, grabbed his hard cock and forced it back between his leather thighs again. Then, pinning his arms and upper body down, he squeezed his thighs as tightly as he could around the boy’s cock and started to thrust his hips.
Danny yelled. “Get off me you cunt! You’re not going to make me fucking cum this time!”
But the hot skinhead was on top of him, those tight leather jeans were milking him and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt himself getting closer and gave a mighty thrust to get out from under the Ferret. He almost made it – they toppled and he nearly managed to push Baz off him – but the skinhead’s strength won: his strong arms slowly pushed the boy’s shoulders back onto the floor.
Danny could feel the leather on his legs, on his chest, and the tight leather thighs around his cock, milking it. With a scream of frustration and rage, he felt himself cumming. Again. The skinhead didn’t stop until he’d completely collapsed and was still.
The ferret face grinned at him. “Lost it again? Leather really does do it for you, dunnit?”
Danny was panting hard under him, but he still managed a “Fuck off you bastard.”
Baz didn’t even bother to tie the boy up this time when he left him for a beer. He flopped down into the armchair and his hand immediately went to his cock. Oh fuck, he needed to cum. What he was doing to this boy was something else. He’d never done this sort of thing before – he was all about fucking, spitting, fisting, and sucking. But making this kid lose it while he was fighting against it was so fucking horny. He didn’t understand it.
When he got back to the bedroom Danny was sitting on the bed looking at him. “Ok,” the boy said, “I’ve got a challenge for you. You think you’re so good at making me lose it. How about this? We lie 69, and work on each other. Whoever makes the other one cum first wins.”
Baz appeared to be considering this. Then he got on the bed, pulled the boy down so he was lying in front of him, put one arm through both of Danny’s, holding them behind his back, and clamped his booted feet around the boy’s ankles. Danny could feel leathers all down him and the hard cock bulge pushing into his arse. Baz’s head moved close to Danny’s ear and he whispered. “I’ve got a better idea. If you can stop me from making you cum again, I’ll do this to you any time you want. Every fuckin day, if you want.” He moved his lips even closer. “And, I’ll let you hogtie me and make me cum in those skintight, sexy bleachers whenever you feel like it.”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck yes! Danny would give anything for that. A hot skinhead to work on him in leather – or for him to milk in those bleachers – whenever he wanted. Yes fucking please! “You have got yourself a fucking deal, mate.”
He felt the head nod. “Ok then,” Baz whispered.
Leather-gloved fingers gently wrapped around his cock. Danny didn’t struggle, didn’t try to get them off. His cock was hard, but he felt drained. He was sure there was no more spunk in his balls. He would not cum. Behind his back, his fingers found the side of the bulge that was pressing into him. They tried, but they couldn’t quite reach the smooth leather cock head.
Baz began to work on the boy. Slowly and gently. His leather fingers slid over the hard cock and around the head, teasing more than anything else. His leather-jeaned legs were gripping the boy’s naked ones tightly between them, holding him helpless. And he whispered into Danny’s ear.
“Imagine you’ve got me in those fuckin’ skintight bleachers, boy. I’m hogtied. Fuckin’ helpless. Strugglin like fuck. Your hand’s between my tight denim thighs, tickling my balls and teasing my fuckin’ cock slowly, getting me closer and closer to cumming, but slowly, so that I can feel myself losing it bit by fuckin’ bit and know that there’s fuck-all I can do to stop you. And then ya suddenly grip just my cockhead through those bleachers and work on it fast so that I can’t stop myself from shooting my spunk helplessly into those fucking prickteasing skintight jeans… your hand is sliding on the spunk, milkin’ me in those slippery tight bleachers, my fuckin’ cock jerkin’ under it as ya make this horny fuckin’ skinhead cum…”
Danny was imagining. Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck.
He began to struggle. This must not be allowed to happen. If he didn’t cum, the Ferret had said that he could do all that to him, whenever he wanted. The leather-gloved fingers were working on his cock faster and faster now – but this time he must not cum!
His mind, however, had other ideas. His imagination was providing full-colour, meticulously detailed images of his hands running over that tight, round denim arse. He could fucking see the bleached jeans stretching as he pulled the cockhead forward with two fingers behind it, his thumb stroking over the ridge at the front, right on the frenulum, to get the skinhead to the very edge. And in his mind he could feel the Ferret suddenly struggling and convulsing, his spunk soaking the jeans under Danny’s hands as the boy made him shoot slowly and helplessly in those fucking sexy skintight skinhead jeans…
No! Danny was cumming. For the fourth fucking time. He was incandescent with rage. His fingertips found the bulging leather cock behind him and he tried to milk the bastard at the same time.
“No you fuckin don’t.” The bulge moved back out of reach.
The boy was still cumming, and the leather fingers were still wanking his cock. They were right on his sweet spot, too. He gritted his teeth and swore in fury as what little spunk he had left jetted feebly out of his cock into the irresistibly milking hand.
As well as keeping his fingers moving on the boy’s cock, Baz was also desperately trying to stop himself from cumming in his leather jeans from the boy’s attempt to bring him off. He succeeded – just – but that had been fucking close.
When Danny’s orgasm was over, Baz lay back and got himself together. Gradually he felt himself backing off from the edge. He breathed in relief.
“You fucking bastard.” The boy’s voice was barely a whisper. “I want what you said so fucking much.”
“What? For me to get ya helpless and milk yer spunk outta you whenever you want? To make me cum in my tight, sexy bleachers?”
“Danny closed his eyes in despair. “Yes. Oh fuck yes.”
Baz leaned up on one elbow. “Well, you came, so that ain’t gonna happen, is it?”
He listened to the boy breathing, his face in the pillow. He thought about tonight. His cock was still as hard as a rock in his leather jeans and he very badly needed to cum. Fuck, he thought, he hadn’t been this fucking horny for a long time and he was gonna do something about it. He rolled the boy face down, unzipped his leather jeans and got his cock out, spat on it and pushed it firmly into Danny’s arse. He wanted to fuck him long and hard, but far too soon he was shooting his spunk into the boy.
When it was over he collapsed on top of Danny and whispered in his ear. “I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen, boy. You’re gonna stop wanking – not for some character on a fuckin’ computer screen, but for a real fuckin’ skinhead. A skin who knows exactly how to use leather and restraints on a boy.”
Danny turned his head sideways on the pillow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you little cunt, that from now on you cum when I make ya cum. And only when I make ya cum. And I’ll do that to ya whenever I feel like it. Might be every night, might not be for days at a time. You never gonna know.” Baz was thinking furiously, making up the rules. “And the longer you hold out when I’m milkin ya, the sooner I’ll be back to do it again. You down for that?”
Danny raised his head off the pillow and looked at the Ferret. “Oh fuck yes! You mean that?”
“And if ya ever do manage to control yerself so I can’t make ya fuckin cum, you can do what the fuck you want to me. In leather or in those bleachers. Tie me up. Suck me off. Make me cum in my jeans. Whatever ya want.”
Danny could not believe it. He put his arms around the leather skin and hugged him.
“Where have you been, you fucker? We need to talk.”
“No, Carlton, we don’t. Thank you – we’ve had a lot of fun but I’m leaving 2ndWorld. So thanks again, and goodbye.”
“What? Why? This is everything to me.”
“Everything to you? Well maybe you should get a life.”
He logged off, then hit the Close My Account button.
It had been a week since his last session with the Ferret, and he was as horny as fuck. Baz just turned up when he wanted; Danny never knew when he was going to appear. And when he did, he tied the boy up or strapped him down, used his fetishes for leather and skintight jeans to get him screamingly horny, milked him until his balls were dry, and then fucked the arse off him.
One day Danny was going to succeed in controlling himself and not let the bastard get his spunk, and when that day came he was going to do what he most wanted to do in all the world: milk that sexy skinhead senseless in those fucking horny, prickteasing jeans. In the meantime, he would just have to fight to stop the bastard as best he could. He wasn’t getting any better at it, though.
He smiled; but that was perfectly OK as well.