The Telemachus Story Archive

Weekend Slave
By Hooder

Weekend Slave

Rick was a fairly experienced slave, but he’d never done anything like this before.

He’d met Anders in the club last Saturday night. The big, muscular guy had looked like a god – his shiny black leather tight over solid thighs; hard cock straining the codpiece of his jeans out into a mouthwatering bulge. His leather Sam Browne belt, leather tie, leather bike jacket and polished black leather jackboots had made Rick go weak at the knees. But the thing that really got to him was that the guy was wearing a leather mask as well, and not a square inch of his face was visible. He’d never seen anyone wear a mask in a club before.

Rick had offered himself, with respectfully-lowered eyes, and they’d talked, during which the guy had told him exactly what his requirements were.

Anders was going to be away on business in Belgium for most of the week, but they arranged things for the following weekend. Rick had been ordered not to cum at all before then, and from Friday afternoon until Sunday night he was going to be Anders’ slave.

He usually wanked at least once a day, and it had been difficult not doing so at all for the week, but he’d given his word. He’d been thinking about the sexy leather guy constantly, and by the time Friday came round Rick was a very horny boy indeed.

The arrangements for getting to Anders’ place had been strange: a car would be sent to pick the boy up. It would be here at 1pm Friday. He was to bring nothing with him other than the clothes he was wearing, and Anders had specifically told him not to bring his watch.

Friday finally came. Rick had been looking through the window for the past fifteen minutes, and now, on the empty street below him, a black cab was drawing to a stop outside his door. It was 1 o’clock to the second. He raced down the stairs.

As he approached the car the back door opened smoothly – seemingly by itself. He ducked his head and climbed in. There was nobody else inside – all he could see was the back of the driver’s head through the glass partition.

“Hi”, he said, “I’m Rick.” The driver did not respond. Thinking the man hadn’t heard, he was about to repeat the introduction when the door closed by itself and shut with a quiet clunk. The cab moved off from the kerb.

Ok, he thought. Sitting back in the deep leather seat, he stretched out and watched as the world went smoothly past outside. They were approaching the outskirts of town when he noticed something strange: a dark area had appeared at the bottom of the window. As he watched, its edge rose slowly. He leaned close and peered at it. The window was apparently made of two thicknesses of glass, and the space between them was gradually filling with what looked like black ink. He saw that the other windows – including the partition behind the driver - were doing the same thing. Slowly the level rose until there was only a thin strip at the top through which the clouds in the blue sky were visible – then that, too, was gone. All the windows were black and opaque. He couldn’t see a thing through them in any direction.

Suddenly he felt unsure about this. The feeling of being in a moving cab and not being able to see out was a bit claustrophobic. He tapped on the glass partition but there was no response from the driver. The door release handle wouldn’t push down – he was locked in.

A couple of small lights had come on inside the passenger compartment and he looked around. There were none of the usual adverts or notices in the cab, but on the bottom of the folded seat in front of him was a plain white A4 sheet with a single line of text in its centre. It was in small Times Roman, and he had to lean forward to read it. It said: “I will not cum unless I have your permission.” That was all. There was nothing else to read anywhere, and so with no other options, he sat back again and let the cab take him wherever it was going. This guy Anders must have a bit of cash, he thought; not all cabs had trick windows like that, for a start.

After a while he became aware that the claustrophobic feeling was gradually transforming into something else: he realised that the thought of blacked-out windows so that he couldn’t see where he was being taken was actually dead horny. He looked down and saw that he had a hard-on in his jeans. He really wanted to have wank now, but he knew that he couldn’t. If there was one thing Anders had made clear that he was very particular about when they’d talked in the club, it was about when – and how – he could cum. It would be a very bad idea to cum on the way to his house.

Rick had no idea where they were. He raised his wrist to see the time, but then remembered he’d been told not to wear a watch. His arm flopped back onto his thigh. Ten, twenty minutes so far? He didn’t know. He’d been proccupied with other things and he hadn’t been trying to keep track of the time.

He closed his eyes but his mind was buzzing too much to doze, and his hard cock wouldn’t have let him sleep anyway. He almost never wore underpants, but on this occasion he wished he had - the feel of his jeans against his thighs, balls and cock seemed to be intent on making him want to wank more and more, and at this precise moment he could do without that.

The cab drove on. Either they were going round in large circles or they must be in a different county by now. How much longer?

Eventually, after some tighter turns, the cab slowed, crunched over gravel, stopped, and then reversed. It came to rest at last and Rick heard the driver get out. Footsteps, and then the passenger door opened. For a brief moment Rick saw a featureless black wall beyond the door – and then that was obscured by the shape of the driver leaning in. Rick just had time to notice that his face was concealed by a black balaclava before he reached forward with a leather hood and quickly pulled it over Rick’s head, plunging him into total blackness. The speed and efficiency with which he did this made Rick guess that it probably wasn’t the first time he’d done it.

The driver guided Rick out of the cab, and quickly secured his wrists behind his back with a plastic tie. Without a word, he led the boy forward.

Hoods were things that Rick was well used to – he loved being hooded. This one felt horny, and smelled intensely of leather. With his cock even harder in his jeans, he walked blindly, guided by the driver’s hand on his back.

Soon they came to a stop. The driver removed the boy’s hood, then left, closing the door behind him.

Rick looked around. He was in a room that was as utterly featureless as the black wall had been, except that this room was white. All of it. In fact, in the even illumination, it was difficult to see where the floor and the walls, or the walls and the ceiling, met. Anders stood facing him, wearing exactly the same gear as when they’d met in the club. The sight of him made the boy’s cock jerk.


Kneeling in front of a black leather god in a perfectly white room made him think of scenes of heaven or strange other dimensions in science-fiction films.

“When did you last cum?”

“Saturday afternoon, Sir.” Rick kept his eyes downcast, centred on the man’s leather boots.

“Good. Now, what is the rule?”

The rule? What rule? “I’m sorry, Sir… the rule?”

“Yes, the rule. What is the rule?”

Rick thought furiously. Had the man told him a rule when they’d been in the club? He couldn’t remember one. Then an image of the notice on the seat in the cab came into his mind. “The rule is that I will not cum unless I have your permission, Sir.”

“You will not cum unless you have my permission.” Anders enunciated every word slowly and clearly. “That is indeed the rule. Do you understand it?”

Rick nodded his head. “Yes, Sir. I understand it.”

“Good. Because if you break that rule you will be taken back to your flat immediately and I will make very sure that the other Masters know that you failed your duty as a slave. It will severely undermine your reputation and you will probably not be considered again by many of them. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, Sir! I understand.” He realised he would have to be very careful.

“However,” Anders’ voice was softer now, “if you obey that rule until Sunday evening, I will have a gift for you.”

Rick wondered what the gift might be.

“Ok. Do you have any questions?”

Rick hesitated, then he said, “Sir, I am not allowed to let myself cum. I like to think I have good willpower, but I do have weaknesses, and you could probably make me lose it if you really tried.”

Although the leather mask hid Ander’s face, Rick could tell he was smiling. He so wanted to see this guy’s face – he just knew the man was fucking gorgeous.

“Well, you’re just going to have to control yourself then, aren’t you…? ”

“Yes Sir. Sorry Sir.”

“Anything else?”

“No Sir!”

“So – do you want to be my slave for the weekend?”

“Yes Sir! I want that very much, Sir!”

Anders nodded. He locked a thin black leather collar around Rick’s neck, then blindfolded him. “Get up.”

He led him out of the room, up two flights of stairs and through another doorway. He removed the blindfold.

Rick looked around, impressed. He was standing in a very well-equipped playroom. The walls and floor were covered in black rubber, and on smoked glass shelves, a huge assortment of restraint devices glinted in the light. In the centre of the room was a St. Andrews cross with leather straps dangling from it, and other items of heavy equipment stood against the walls.

Anders cut the plastic tie around Rick’s wrists. “Strip.”

The leather guy put him on the cross and tightened the straps over his arms and legs. He stood in front of the boy and slowly pulled on a pair of skintight, thin cop gloves, flexing his fingers as he worked them into the tight leather. Then he walked behind the cross, reached around Rick’s waist and began to stroke the boy’s body.

Rick gasped. He had never in his life met anyone with such a light touch – the guy’s fingers were hardly making contact at all: it felt like being carressed by mist. The fingers moved gently over his chest, his arms, his stomach, and his legs. Rick had never thought of his legs as being particularly erogenous, but the feel of the leather fingers gliding over his knees, calves and thighs was sending electric currents of pleasure through him. A pearly drop of precum appeared – and the guy hadn’t even touched his cock yet.

Anders inserted one hand under the crossing of the wooden beams and began to work on the insides of the boy’s thighs. The hand traced lightly over the golden skin, the fingers teasing and tickling slowly upwards. When they got to his balls they paused, then began to caress them so lightly that Rick was sure they were only touching the hairs and not even the skin. The guy’s other hand enclosed the steel-hard cock – again hardly making any contact at all – and with silky softness stroked up the shaft and over the head.

Rick closed his eyes and moaned; this was getting to him big time. He’d been horny from the week of celibacy anyway;then the blacked-out car and the hood had made it even worse; and what Anders was doing to him now was fucking wonderful. For the first time it occurred to him that this weekend may not be as easy to survive as he’d thought. He realised that he was beginning to thrust his hips, trying to fuck the leather-gloved hand, but the fingers never allowed more than the lightest contact. He stopped himself and tried to remain motionless, but the continuing teasing of his balls and cock made staying still not an option.

After fifteen excruciating minutes of this, Anders straightened up and walked round to stand in front of the boy. Rick knew that a slave should really look at nothing other than his Master’s boots, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from fixingon the guy’s crotch. Thejeans themselves were thick, shiny black horsehide, stretched over solid thigh muscles, but the codpiece was much thinner leather, and showed in meticulous detail the shape and ridges of what was under it. The hard cock was pushing the leather out at least five inches from the guy’s body, and the head, forced against leather that was unable to stretch any further, made a shiny, smooth, curved mound at the apex of the codpiece. The leather was so thin and shiny that the ridged shape of the cock head was clear and unmistakable.

Anders smiled beneath the mask. It was as if he’d read Rick’s mind. “It’s Ok, you don’t have to stare at my boots. Feel free to look at whatever you want.” He raised his right hand and stroked a single fingertip over his shiny black cock head. Rick gasped as the cock jerked under the leather, making the creases at the sides move and glint under the lights.

“You getting horny yet, boy?”

Rick groaned. “Yes, Sir! Oh fuck yes Sir!”

The man gripped the shiny leather bulge between a finger and thumb, and squeezed gently. The cock bucked again, repeatedly. He stepped forward and brushed the huge bulge back and forth across the tip of the boy’s cock, which left thin trails of precum on the shiny black surface. Rick moaned at the touch, his eyes riveted to the codpiece.

Anders stepped back a little, and pulled the codpiece off. The man’s cock sprang out, stiff and hard. Rick gasped – it was enormous. Thick, veined and solid, it looked big enough to belong to a horse. He gripped it with one leather-gloved hand while the other teased the boy. Still stroking up and down Rick’s desperate cock with the lightest touch, he wanked himself off slowly with long, firm, leisurely strokes directly in front of the boy. After a minute his hand speeded up, and with a groan of pleasure Anders came. His hot spunk squirted onto Rick’s cock and balls, running over them wet and warm, and making the guy’s leather fingers glide smoothly on the film of spunk.

The sight of the sexy leather guy cumming was intensely frustrating. Rick let out a loud, tortured moan, his eyes wide open as he watched the spunk arcing out onto his cock.

Anders wiped himself, re-attached the codpiece and pulled another sheet out of the box of tissues. “Better clean you up...” He squatted down, then stroked just the edge of the tissue slowly along the shaft and over the engorged cock head. This brought another moan from the boy – the touch of the tissue was infuriatingly, maddeningly horny. It wasn’t doing much to mop up the spunk either, and it was clear that the sadistic bastard knew this very well. He changed the tissue frequently, but only ever used the very edge.

It took a very long time to get rid of all the spunk this way, but the man was in no hurry at all. Rick was beside himself by the time it was done.

Anders left the room, allowing Rick to calm down a little. A few minutes later he returned, and released the boy from the cross. “Kneel.”

He took a different leather hood and pulled it over Rick’s head. This one was made of much thicker leather. He fastened the straps tight and locked it on at the collar. “Ok. Go and explore the house. Be careful, and watch out for the stairs.” He’d had to speak loudly, and close to the boy, as the thick leather pads built into the sides of this hood made effective earplugs. He could hear very little indeed.

Rick hadn’t been able to see when he’d been brought up to the playroom; he knew he was on the second floor, but he had no idea of the layout of the house. Anders turned him around twice, then he was gone.

Blind, in silence and with his hands stretched out in front of him, he felt his way to a wall, and followed it until he came to the door. Outside the playroom, and still following the wall, he came to another door, and opened that one. He walked slowly forward until his legs made contact with something. He felt with his hands – it was a bed, covered in leather. Keeping in mind where the door was, he explored the room, but it seemed to be just an ordinary bedroom as far as he could tell.

He closed the door and continued his exploration outside. Beyond the bedroom door was a dead end, so he backtracked. He remembered that the stairs were here somewhere, so he went carefully until he found them. Holding onto the rail he started downwards slowly, counting them.

He’d got to fourteen when he jumped as something brushed the head of his cock. What the fuck was that? He felt around with his hands but there was nothing there. He was about to continue down when it happened again. A feather, or something equally soft. After a moment it was back, tickling and teasing the end of his cock. Oh fuck, that felt so horny.

He stood there, holding onto the rail, his thighs trembling as the feather carressed and stroked up and down his desperate cock. He felt a drop of precum ooze out. Then the feather was gone.

After a few moments he continued to the bottom of the stairs. He was on the first floor now, so he must be on a landing, he thought. Again following the wall with his hands, he found another – larger – bedroom, the bathroom, and what could have been an office; there was a computer on a desk and what felt like an old-fashioned telephone with a dial.

He continued exploring, again following the wall. He almost jumped out of his skin as arms were suddenly around him. The arms pulled him back against a leatherclad body and the tightly-gloved fingers found his nipples. They began to squeeze - gently at first - but, encouraged by Rick’s moans of pleasure, grdually more forcefully. Rick hissed in erotic pain as they squeezed and twisted, sending waves of lust through his body.

The arms were gone. Rick waited, but nothing further happened so he resumed his exploration.

He came to more stairs, and went down the steps slowly, his nipples still glowing and his skin tingling with the anticipation of something else touching him at any moment, but nothing did. His foot hit the floor where he’d been expecting another step. At the same moment a leather-gloved hand enlosed his balls, and another began to stroke his cock lightly. He shut his eyes under the hood and threw his head back in ecstasy as the fingers teased up and down the shaft of his horny cock. Then, once again, they were gone.

The first room he found seemed to be completely empty – that must be the white room he’d been in earlier. Further along he came to what was probably a living room, and then, further still, what seemed to be another. He was exploring this one when his hands felt what was obviously a table.

“Lie on the table.” Anders’ voice was close to him.

The surface was hard and cool. He lay down and felt Anders position his arms by his sides and his feet slightly apart. Then he felt fingertips tickling his balls, and he let out an urgent groan as a warm, wet mouth came down on his cock. It pushed down quickly, but returned very, very slowly indeed, the tongue teasing the tip of the head. It repeated this action over and over, bringing Rick to the edge quickly. He felt that he was going to cum any second – but the guy knew exactly what he was doing: each time the boy was on the point of shooting, he stopped, leaving the desperately needy cock untouched. Rick groaned in frustration.

The worst thing about this was that, apart from the hood, Rick wasn’t restrained. Each time the guy’s mouth got him close to the edge he had to fight himself not to give in to his reflexes and finish himself off. His hips thrust and his hands thumped the table.

After what seemed like hours Anders told him to get off the table. The guy bent him over the side, spread his legs wide with his booted foot, and told him to grip the far edge with his hands. He waited in this position, listening, but unable to hear what Anders was doing.

A hand touched his arse. Fingers and thumb spread his cheeks, and the tip of the first finger began to tease the sphincter. The finger was removed, then came back, colder. Lube. It pushed gently, and slid smoothly in.

“Mmmm….” Rick purred; that felt wonderful. Anders’ other hand went between the boy’s legs and enclosed his cock, pulling it downwards between his thighs and milking it with rotating, slow, and infuriatingly light strokes up and down the full length, while the finger fucked him.

Oh god. Rick needed to cum so badly. He wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. At that moment, what Anders was doing to him felt more horny than anything he could remember. He knew that if he came now, it would be one of the most devastatingly intense orgasms he’d ever had. He needed that so fucking badly - cumming right now would be worth any cost. He was actually on the point of letting go of the table and finishing himself off – a couple of strokes would be all that it would take…

The finger moved in and out of his arse hole and the other hand stroked his cock. Down the shaft, over the precum-lubed head, round a couple of times, then back all the way up again.

Rick broke. His hand shot down to his cock -

- But Anders grabbed it before it got there. “Don’t try that again, “Anders said. “Next time I’ll let you do it – and you know what that will mean.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m just so fucking horny.”

The guy chuckled. “I know you are,” he said quietly.

Rick heard Anders lift a telephone handset.

“We’re about ready for dinner, I think.” He paused, listening. “Ok. Thanks.” He replaced the receiver, and talked to Rick: “Follow me.”

He led the boy into the dining room. Once inside and the door was closed, he removed the hood.

Rick looked around. The room was large and expensively furnished. Anders indicated a chair at one end of the solid oak dining table. Once the boy had sat and positioned himself, Anders squatted down and adjusted something under the table, then sat down himself opposite Rick. He pressed a button set into the table top.

Rick gasped as something brushed his cock. There was a pause, and it happened again. Every five seconds or so something very soft stroked over his cock and balls.

“Keep your hands above the table and sit quite still.”

The door opened and the driver – who Rick realised now was clearly more than that – brought dinner in on a large silver tray. The man was still wearing the black balaclava. He held the tray with one hand and served the food to them with the other. It was Lobster Thermidore. Rick had never had that – and it was delicious. Wine was poured, and then the driver left them alone again.

It is not easy to concentrate on a wonderful dinner with a feather stroking your cock and balls every few seconds, but Rick did his best. By the time they’d finished the dessert (fresh strawberries and cream), Rick was pleasantly full – and still unbelievably horny. His cock was hard and dripping, and he longed to feel under the table to see what the thing was that had been brushing over him. They sat drinking cognac for a while. And every few seconds that soft thing brushed over his cock.

Rick was temporarily hooded again as he was led back into the other room. Light returned as the leather was removed. They were in a large living room. As in the dining room, the blinds on the windows were closed. A huge plasma TV hung on one wall, and beneath it a matt black – and extremely expensive-looking – hifi system stood at the side of a computer. Two enormous speaker columns stood in the corners of the room, and a black leather 3-seater settee faced the screen. He saw the table against the other wall where he’d been lying before dinner.

“Tell me, is there a film you would really like to see?”

The question was unexpected, but Rick didn’t have to think for very long. “Yes Sir! I’ve been trying to get the latest Star Wars. I missed it when it was in the cinemas and it’s not out on DVD yet. I would love to see that!”

Anders tapped a few keys on the computer and very shortly the copyright notice at the start of the film was on the huge screen. He let it run until the first frame of the main title, and then paused it. “That the one?”

“Yes Sir! Oh thank you Sir!” Rick was grinning like a little kid; if nothing else at all happened this weekend, it would have been worth it just for this! He watched the reflections move on the guy’s tight black leather jeans as he sat at the right-hand end of the settee.

“Come and sit down.”

Rick sat next to him.

“Lie down. Put your legs over mine.”

Rick lay down. Anders bent the boy’s legs and moved his feet onto the arm of the settee, then adjusted his position slightly until he had the boy’s cock exactly where he wanted it. “Can you see the screen Ok from there?”

Rick nodded enthusiastically. “Yes thank you Sir!”

“Good. I’ll put the film on in a few minutes.”

Rick closed his eyes and smiled as the guy’s fingers went to work on him again. The man’s touch was something else – it was so infuriatingly light. Rick had never experienced a touch like that before. The hands stroked over his calves, knees, thighs, his perineum and his balls, but didn’t touch his cock. But even that was making him need to cum. He found himself moving his hips, luxuriating in the soft caresses of the man’s hands.

Eventually Anders stopped. He reached down and picked something up from the floor at the side of the settee. It was another leather hood. This one was very thin, very long, and looked to be very loose. He pulled it over the boy’s head, then settled down and started the film.

Rick groaned as he realised that he couldn’t see the film, only hear it. He really really wanted to see this – he’d been furious when he’d had to miss it in the cinemas: his mum had suddenly pissed off to Australia to see her dying sister and he’d been left to look after his baby brother all fucking day every fucking day. He gritted his teeth and swore as the title music filled the room from the huge speakers.

Then the hands returned. The leather-gloved fingers stroked the shaft of his cock and reached between his thighs to tickle his balls. The guy wasn’t trying to edge him this time – it was as if his hands were doing it automatically while he was absorbed in the film. They kept the boy not too close to cumming, but very horny indeed.

Rick listened to the soundtrack of the film, trying to picture what was happening, but it didn’t work. Without the images the dialogue made little sense most of the time. It was madly frustrating: if it weren’t for this fucking hood he would be able to watch the film properly. His hands were balled into fists as he lay there, involuntary gasps being drawn from him every time Anders’ fingers touched the head of his cock.

The arm of the guy’s leather jacket slowly brushing against the inside of his thigh felt wonderful, and occasionally he could feel that amazing bulge on the back of his leg. He wondered what would happen to someone finally if they were kept this horny and never allowed to cum. He also wondered what would happen if he took the hood off – Anders hadn’t explicitly told him not to, and he so badly wanted to see this film…

Slowly he moved a hand up to his head. He gripped the top of the hood…

Anders paused the film, grabbed his wrists and cuffed them behind his back. Then he started the movie again and sat back as if nothing had happened.

Rick swore to himself. This guy was an absolute bastard.

“Oh wow...” Anders muttered; something in the film had impressed him very much.

Rick seethed. This hood was made of the lightest, thinnest leather possible – it was no thicker than paper – and yet it was blindfolding him as effectively as a two-foot thickness of solid lead would have done. It taunted him as it lay across his eyes; it was so loose that some light entered from the bottom of it - most of the time he could actually see the grain of the leather surface over his eyes. He’d tried tilting his head to get a view of the screen under the bottom edge, but it was so loose that his head moved inside it and the hood itself stayed still. He couldn’t see the screen however hard he tried. This was giving new meaning to the word ‘frustration’.

Oh god he was horny. He had no choice but to lie there with the guy tickling his balls and his raging cock gently while the film he most wanted to watch played unseen on a huge plasma screen a few feet away from him.

The final credits were rolling and Anders turned the film off. He removed the boy’s hood. “Did you enjoy that?”

Rick growled. “Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Listen, you don’t need to call me ‘Sir’ all the time. I’m not your usual type of Master, and it doesn’t do a lot for me. Ok?”

“Ok S… Ok.”

“Right. Time for bed.”

He blindfolded Rick again, took him back upstairs, and locked him in the bathroom for a while. After that he guided the sightless boy into the top bedroom and put him to bed in a half-hood which left his mouth uncovered, a leather straitjacket, and a pair of leather shorts with cotton wool in the front. There was going to be no way the boy could cum tonight. “Sleep well,” he said, and locked the door.

After breakfast in the dining room, Anders announced that they would be going for a walk in the woods. The guy had brought two items with him: a smallish butt-plug, which he inserted into Rick’s arse; and a strange-looking device, which he proceeded to fit onto the boy. First he tightened a leather strap high around Rick’s left thigh. Attached to this strap was a flexible black rubber tube, with a small orange valve on it. The end of the tube flared out into a kind of rubber sleeve. He stroked the boy’s semi-hard cock until it was stiff, and worked the sleeve over the head, which the rubber was designed to grip. He positioned the tube so that the valve was at Rick’s waist, and ran the rest of the tube down the inside of his left leg, holding it in place with more straps. The tube ended by his ankle.

Anders held out a pair of loose, shiny black rubber trackie bottoms. “Put these on, carefully.”

Rick did so, a small moan of pleasure escaping his lips as the buttplug moved inside him and as the cool rubber trackies slid up his bare skin, and then watched as the guy inserted something that looked like a rubber insole into his left trainer. A short tube sticking out of the top connected with the long one running up his leg.

“Put your trainers on.”

As he pushed his left foot in, Rick heard a small hiss of air come from the little valve at his waist.

Anders looked the boy over, positioning the valve so that it poked out just above the waistband, then turned the knob, closing the valve. There was no other visible evidence of the device under the loose trackies. “Good. Now walk around.”

The boy was frowning, not sure what the thing was intended to do, but as soon as he took a step the frown turned into realisation. “Oh fuck...”

As he walked, the changing pressure on his foot on the insole pumped the air in the tube, causing the rubber sheath to suck, and to move up and down over the head of his cock. It was gently masturbating him – and it felt amazingly horny. Involuntarily, his cock gave a jerk, which made his arse grip the buttplug sharply.

Seemingly satisfied, Anders opened the small valve. He blindfolded the boy and guided him out the back of the house. As they walked, there was a quiet, rhythmic hiss of air from the valve. The sheath on his cock head remained motionless, but with each step the loose rubber trackies sliding over his bare skin and the movement of the buttplug inside him felt amazing.

A gate leading into a wood stood at the end of the back garden; Anders led him through, and into the trees. Once they were surrounded on all sides, he took off Rick’s blindfold and closed the valve at his waist. “Right. Now listen very carefully, boy. You will walk exactly level with me, at exactly the same speed, and you will time your foosteps to mine exactly. You will keep your hands behind your back, and you will NOT cum. If you do, you know what the consequences will be. If you feel that you’re close to cumming, you will tell me – but you will not stop walking. Do you understand this?”

Rick nodded his head. “Yes Sir!” He looked apologetic. “Sorry. Yes. I understand.” Calling this guy ‘sir’ was automatic.

They began to walk. With every step Rick took, the rubber sheath now sucked and moved on the head of his cock. It felt indescribably horny. At the same time the buttplug moved in his arse, and the folds and creases of the rubber trackies teased his legs, thighs and balls. The outside air kept the thin black rubber cool, and he could feel its shiny smoothness with each step. Watching Anders in his leather jacket, jack boots and skintight leather jeans by his side only made it worse. The guy’s cock was fully erect again under the thin codpiece, stretching it into a huge triangular bulge between his thighs. Every now again again it jerked under the leather, sending shivers of lust through the boy. He watched the guy’s feet too, keeping pace with him exactly. By the time they’d gone fifty yards Rick was very close to cumming.

“Please Si… Please, I’m very close.”

Anders just nodded. He reduced their speed a little, but didn’t stop.

The rubber sheath sucked and stroked, seemingly determined to make the boy lose it. He was very close indeed now, and was just about to plead again when Anders stopped. Rick breathed a sigh of relief – but it was short-lived.

“Put your hand on my bulge – very lightly.”

A surge of pure need coursed through him as Rick touched the leather. He so badly wanted to squeeze it, lick it, suck it…

“Stroke your open palm over my cock head.”

Rick closed his eyes for a moment at the feel of the smooth leather bulge caressing his skin. Oh fuuuck….

“Now feel my cock.”

The hard cock under the thin leather was the most horny thing Rick had ever felt. His fingers slowly ran up the length of the thick shaft – curved with the tension of being restrained by the codpiece - over the ridge of the head, across the glans, and over the piss-slit. The thinness of the leather let him feel every tiny detail. He squeezed it and felt its warm, hard resilience bewteen his fingers. He moaned quietly: he wanted that cock so badly.

“You want me to fuck you with that cock, don’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

Rick nodded. “Oh shit yesssss…..” He groaned.

Anders smiled under his mask. “If you’re a good boy, I might.”

They walked on again, slowly, until they came to two silver birch trees about ten feet apart. Anders pointed to one of them. “Sit down with your back against that.” Anders sat as well and leaned back against the other one. “Put your feet straight out.” He positioned the soles of his booted feet flat against those of the boy. After gazing at Rick for a few moments, he pushed his right foot sharply against the boy’s trainer.

“Aaarrgh….!” Rick gasped as the rubber sheath rode over his cock head.

Anders pushed again – and again. Four fast movements. He was watching Rick’s face intently.

Every time the guy pumped the trainer the sheath milked his cock, and made it jerk. And every time it jerked the buttplug in his arse fucked him.

“I’m close again...”

“I know.” Anders brought his right hand up to his crotch. He traced over the bulge of his rock-hard cock. He squeezed the shaft, cupped the end, and rolled his hand. Every few seconds he gave the trainer a couple of pumps.

Rick was on the edge. The sight of the masked leather hunk playing with that bulge, the feel of the rubber sheath riding up and down over his cock head and of the buttplug moving in and out with each contraction of his sphincter – it was all making him need to cum urgently. Repeatedly, he had to stop himself from grabbing his cock and making himself cum.

Anders stretched luxuriously, unzipped his leather jacket and slowly took it off. Rick was salivating: the guy’s pecs and washboard stomach became visible in minute detail under the tight, thin leather shirt. It was short-sleeved, and a barbed-wire tattoo on each bicep accentuated the man’s muscular arms. Anders lay back again against the tree and ran his fingertips over his leathers – slowly and teasingly. While doing this he kept on pressing his boot against Rick’s trainer and causing the rubber sheath to work on his cock.

“Please stop – I’m close to cumming.”

Rick could see the guy smile under the leather mask. The boot continued to press rhythmically, though slower now. It was keeping the boy very close to the edge indeed, and Rick had to keep looking away to stop himself from cumming at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of him.

Anders moved his foot away. “Ok, I’ll give you a rest.” He closed his eyes and seemed to doze. Rick felt his body gradually relaxing. He breathed in the scent of the forest and gazed at the dappled light coming through the leaves above. It was a beautiful spot, and it was a beautiful day.

Half an hour later Anders stood up, put his jacket back on, and took the blindfold out of his pocket. “Stay where you are,” he said, fitting the blindfold over the boy’s eyes. “I’ll be back in a short while.”

Rick heard the guy walk away. His hands were free and theoretically he could have removed the blindfold, but he didn’t. A few minutes later he heard him return.

“Stand up.”

Anders lowered Rick’s trackies, opened the little valve and carefully removed the rubber sheath. Rick’s cock was still hard, and quickly got even harder at the man’s touch. Then the hands were gone, leaving it hanging out in the warm air.

Nothing happened for a while, and then, suddenly, he felt something soft brushing the head. Rick gasped at a sudden, sharp pain. Another came, and then a third.

Anders chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing that’ll hurt you.” He pulled the boy’s blindfold off and Rick looked down to see the nettle leaf in Anders’ gloved hand. “Give it a few minutes and you’ll start to feel it...” He moved the rubber sheath out of the way and pulled Rick’s trackies back up. “Let’s go back.”

They walked until they were close to the edge of the wood, then Anders put the blindfold back on him and led him across the garden and into the house. By the time they were inside again Rick could feel something between warmth and an ache developing on the end of his cock.

Later still, after he had stripped, been handed some short-legged shiny black shorts to put on, and had been hooded again, the ache had turned into a full-fledged tingling. It felt like a small army of ants walking over the head of his cock. He wanted to rub it – and the urge was becoming more and more urgent. His hands were cuffed behind his back and he was allowed to wander around the house again. The shorts were loose-fitting, very thin and lightweight, and the shiny black material slid smoothly over his cock whenever he moved. It was, he knew perfectly well, designed to make the tingling worse, and to make the need for a firm touch on his cock increasingly urgent.

After a while Anders guided him back up the stairs and into the playroom. He stood waiting, listening to sounds of things being moved across the floor.

“Put your hands on top of your head, interlace your fingers. Good. Now part your feet. A bit wider. Good. Now you will stay in exactly that position and you will not move.”

Rick waited, staring into the black leather of the hood.

Anders lay down on the floor and inched his way carefully between the boy’s feet. He had a long, curved feather in his hand. Slowly he reached up and inserted it up the left leg of Rick’s shorts. Accurately avoiding touching either the shorts or the boy’s thigh, he directed the tip of the feather onto Rick’s balls.

When it made contact, Rick convulsed – both from the unexpectedness of it and from how much it tickled.

Do not move!”

Rick brought himself back under control and gritted his teeth as the feather danced slowly over his balls. Then he felt the leather arm of Anders’ jacket against the inside of his leg. His rock-hard cock was pushing the shorts out in front of him. The shiny shorts felt sexy, and the way they were holding his cock in place felt even sexier. The feather worked its way up the length of his shaft and began to tickle the lower, accessible, part of the head. Wherever it touched, the nettle-tingling became acutely worse and, when he just couldn’t stop himself from moving, the cool surface of the shorts sliding against his skin only heightened the horny feelings. He was fighting to keep still, but he couldn’t – he needed to rub his cock more than anything else in the world. And he needed to cum more than anything else in the world.

From the sounds Rick could hear through the hood he guessed that Anders had just cum again himself while doing that to him.

After a while Anders moved away. He pulled the boy’s shorts off and fastened his wrists together behind his back with a length of chain between them. Then he sat down on the floor, leaning against one of the wooden posts and with his parted legs out in front of him. “Sit down, facing me,” he said.

Naked now apart from the hood, Rick carefully sat on the floor. Anders pulled him closer, parting the boy’s legs and placing them either side of him so that Rick would feel his leather-clad body all along the insides of his thighs and calves.

“Now lie back down.”

When he had done so, Anders pulled him slightly closer until Rick’s balls were pressing against his leather codpiece. Using two feathers now, he began to run them both over just the head of the boy’s cock. The touch was gossamer-light.

Rick moaned into the hood. He was so fucking horny. The tingling of the nettle stings was unbearable – it was driving him crazy - the feathers were making it so much worse that he thought he would go mad. He was lying on the chain that connected his wrists, so he couldn’t reach his cock, and the feel of the gorgeous man between his legs – the black leather jacket, jeans, and that bulge against his balls… He needed to cum more than he had ever needed anything in his life before. “Please...please make me cum...”

“You want me to make you cum?”

“Oh fuck yes! PLEASE!”

“But it’s only Saturday afternoon – and you’ve got all day tomorrow to get through yet. If you’re a good boy I’ll make you cum tomorrow evening before you go home.”

Rick shook his head in desperation. There was no way he was going to survive the rest of today and another full day of this. “Pleeeeease….”

Anders didn’t reply. Instead, he settled down for a prolonged session of gentle, infuriating, precise and maddening work on the boy’s cock head with the feathers.

It went on for a very, very long time.

Later, Rick was sitting on the settee by the side of Anders, but now wishing that he was hooded again. He was in the leather straitjacket, feet with a leg-spreader bar between them, watching non-stop porn on the enormous screen. And this was quality porn: high-definition videos of helpless boys being edged out of their minds; hunks in black leather; athletic studs in shorts fucking each other; hooded guys being tortured in all kinds of erotic ways. Rick tried to look away but he was so horny that it was imossible not to watch – and Anders was teasing his cock with leather-gloved fingers slowly and lightly all the fucking time.

When Anders finally switched it off and said that it was time for dinner, Rick closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

The arrangements were the same as yesterday, with the mechanical thing brushing his cock under the table. Rick couldn’t remember the last time he had been so hard for so long.

The evening was spent in the playroom. Anders strapped him tightly into the dentist chair and spent the entire evening doing just one single thing to him: holding his cock with one leather-gloved hand and tickling his frenulum with the point of a tiny, soft, camel-hair paintbrush – and every few minutes holding a pad soaked with poppers over the airholes of the hood. He had never in his wildest nightmares imagined that it was possible to need to cum so badly, or for so long. When the tight leather hood was finally unstrapped and removed, Anders was very careful indeed not to free his hands until cuffs had been put on, so that they could be pulled together behind his back before he could reach his cock. He knew that Rick was more animal than human at that point; he would have done anything to achieve orgasm.

Bedtime was a repeat of last time: the straitjacket, the half-hood and the softly-padded leather shorts.

“Special treat for you tomorrow,” said Anders enigmatically as he locked the door.

After breakfast Anders spent the morning experimenting on the boy. He tried many different diloes (every one with gratifying success); restrained Rick in different positions while testing a variety of implements (mostly soft and all infuriating) on his cock; sucked him; stroked and teased him; tickled him; put clamps on his nipples and worked on the tips of them between leather-gloved fingers. Rick lost count of the times he very nearly came, but when Anders eventually stopped, the boy still had not been permitted to cum.

Now, Rick was strapped down tightly to the gurney. “Right, I have things to prepare. Don’t go away.” He left the playroom.

Rick lay on the gurney, precum dripping from his rock-hard cock, the head of which was tingling insanely from the nettle. He struggled in the restraints – mostly just to feel them holding him helpless. He sighed in happiness.

It was over an hour and a half before the man returned. He sat down on the chair at the side of the gurney. “Now, I have guests here this afternoon. I’m going to take you downstairs shortly. You will be hooded, but you know the layout of the living room and dining room by now. You will treat my guests with the utmost respect. You will do whatever any of them asks you to do. If nobody is talking to you, you will stand quietly wherever you are. I will be there all the time, and I’ll make sure no harm comes to you. Do you understand this?”

Rick nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh, and while they’re here you’ll address me and the guests as ‘sir’ - not in the military, “Sir, yes Sir!” way, but just respectfully. Ok?”

“Yes, sir.”

Anders smiled under his mask. “Good boy. And remember the rule.”

“Oh, I remember it well, sir.”

Anders sorted through a cupboard and produced yet another hood. This one looked a lot more business-like than any the boy had seen so far. Heavy-weight black leather, big, and with straps all over it. A large padlock hung open from the neck. It took almost ten minutes to put on: lacing up the back made the hood itself fit very snugly indeed, and a complicated arrangement of wide external straps pressed tightly over his eyes, mouth, ears, under his jaw, and around the neck. The padlock snapped closed with an irrevocable click. When it was on and all the adjustments had been made, Rick felt more controlled, helpless, and leather-horny than he could ever remember. This hood felt fucking amazing, and he desperately wanted one exactly like it.

Anders cuffed his wrists behind his back and guided him down the stairs. As they approached the ground floor Rick could hear voices chatting, and the clinking of glasses. They turned into the living room.

There was the sound of collective appreciation as they entered. Anders let go of the boy. A few seconds later Rick felt hands on his naked body. Fingers stroked his nipples, his chest, his back, thighs, arse, legs – but nobody touched his hard cock. Leather brushed against his skin occasionally and hands ran over his hooded head. One covered the two air-holes for a few seconds, causing him to gasp for air before it was removed. Their voices were muffled, but audible through the leather.

“Nice body...”

“Gorgeous balls...”

“Good muscles...”

“I think we have a horny boy here...”

Rick felt as if he were in a cattle-market. But that was fine – at least the comments were complimentary.

He could feel and hear people walking around him, circling him. A finger found his arse hole and worked its way inside. It explored, then started to fuck him gently. His balls were stroked. And his thighs. And then his cock: fingers traced up and down the length of it. He knew this wasn’t Anders - the touch was nothing like as light and infuriating – but it was still making him need to cum. Someone knelt down in front of him and he felt a warm mouth enclose his cock. It took the full length right down to the balls, and started to suck slowly. He wasn’t far off the edge, and he wondered what he should do if he felt himself getting very close to cumming – after all, he had to obey Anders’ rule at all costs. But the mouth was gone before he got to that point.

Several pairs of leather-jacketed arms took him and bent him over. They held him there. Someone was behind him. He felt a cold finger insert some lube, and then the end of a cock pushing against the hole. It slipped inside and he closed his eyes in pleasure under the hood. Whoever it was began to fuck him – at first slowly, and then with increasing speed. The cock wasn’t the biggest, but it felt wonderful. The arms held him immobile while the cock pistoned into him. With a moan the man came and Rick could feel the condom inside him ballooning with spunk.

Over the next few hours he was fucked by two other guys; sucked almost to orgasm by three more (he suspected Anders was telling them when to stop, as the timing was maddeningly accurate); he was force-fed poppers through the air holes of the hood; had his nipples – still sensitive from Anders’ work on them this morning – squeezed and rolled; and had his arse soundly beaten by what felt like a paddle. In between these episodes his body was teased and stroked all over. One guy had an amazing way of working on his balls – for some reason his fingers were ice cold, and they felt wonderful as they slid over the sensitive skin.

At one point he’d spent a while on all fours acting as a table for guests to put their drinks or their booted feet on, fingers occasionally reaching underneath to tease his cock. Another time he’d been tickled expertly and unpredictably by someone in what felt like a leather motorcycle suit. Apart from anything else, Rick found the thought that he couldn’t see them – and would never know who they were – profoundly horny.

The afternoon wore on, and eventually the guests left, one by one. Rick heard Anders saying goodbye to them at the front door. Finally the boy felt hands he recognised. They pulled him into an embrace. “Well done,” said Anders. “You were perfect.” The arms gave him a squeeze, then removed the complicated hood. Anders was smiling at him under his leather mask.

“Come and sit down.” Rick joined Anders on the black leather settee. It was good to take the weight off his feet – it felt like he’d been standing for hours. The guy pulled him close. “Soon be time for you to go.” He played with Rick’s cock very gently, stroking teasingly over the frenulum with just the tip of one finger. “Still want to cum?”

Rick closed his eyes very slowly. “Oh... fuck... yes...” He groaned.

Anders chuckled. “And so you shall. In a few minutes, when you’ve had a rest.” He stretched out, and crossed his booted ankles, making his bulge strain the leather of the codpiece in a way that caused Rick’s mouth to go dry.

They sat there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

“There is a frame in front of you. Bend over it.”

They were back in the playroom. Rick blindly felt the wooden construction and lowered himself onto its padded surface. His wrists and ankles were cuffed to the legs, and leather straps were tightened over him. By the time it was all done he couldn’t move an inch. His cock was sticking out into empty air and his arse felt very vulnerable.

Anders’ leather-gloved hand gently enclosed his cock. “You do not have my permission to cum,” he said.

The hand began to move very slowly up and down the length of his cock. Rick was so unbelievably horny that he knew there would be no way he’d be able to stop himself from losing it if the guy gripped any harder, moved his hand any faster, or worked on the head. But the hand just continued to stroke slowly and lightly. Even so, Rick could feel himself getting closer and closer.

He knew very well that the usual descriptions in stories of trying to stop yourself from cumming were quite wrong: it wasn’t a question of being able to fight it right up to the moment of the actual orgasm; of managing to hold out until the very last instant and then suddenly, against your will, losing the battle – it didn’t work like that. Nobody had ever been made to cum against their will. What did happen was that there came a point – usually quite some time earlier – when your mind dismissed your previous determination not to allow yourself to cum, and instead began to drive you actively to seek orgasm. From that point on, you would do anything to achieve it. That’s why skillful edging – bringing you so close to that overpoweringly compelling objective of orgasm, and then, sadistically, witholding it - was so devastatingly effective. Rick knew that what he had to avoid was getting to that point where the compulsion to cum became irresistible. Once there, nothing on earth would be able to stop him from reaching orgasm if the stimulus continued.

And the stimulus continued. There was nothing Rick could do about it; he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it at all. He was restrained helpless, and he was hooded – both of which turned him on like crazy - and a muscular leather god whom he fancied like fuck and with an enormous bulge was standing behind him stroking his leather-gloved hand slowly up and down his cock. It was as if every bit of this scenario had been designed specifically to make it impossible for him to control himself.

Rick shook himself. Think of something else. Think of doing the laundry. But the feel of the fingers on his cock, the leather jeans and jacket of Anders behind him and his whispering in his ear, fight it… don’t cum...” ensured that he couldn’t concentrate on anything else for more than a second at a time.

He was so close to losing it – but then the hand left his cock. Sweat was running down his face under the leather hood. He let out a groan that was half relief that he hadn’t cum, and half frustration that he hadn’t cum.

Something touched his arse hole. A cold finger inserted lube, and spread it around inside him. The tingling on his cock came back in a wave – worse now than it had ever been – he desperately needed to rub it. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of the leather codpiece being unfastened. He imagined that huge cock behind him, closed his eyes and held his breath in anticipation.

It rested against his outer sphincter for a couple of seconds, then gently but firmly pushed its way in. Rick had taken some big cocks in his life but never one as huge as this. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too painful. His arse stretched around it as it slipped smoothly inside on the film of lube, and Rick inhaled the poppers coming through the hood deeply as pure pleasure coursed through him. Anders began to fuck him slowly and deliberately.

If the boy had thought he’d needed to cum before, it was a hundred times worse now. He’d longed for that cock ever since he’d first set eyes on it, and the feeling of it inside him at last was making him desperate. Drool ran down from his mouth and a constant, rhythmic moan came from him, muffled by the leather hood, as he fucked empty air in time with Anders’ thrusts; but the only stimulation on the one part of his body that was crying out for it most of all - his cock - was the infuriating nettle-tingling.

Anders was getting close – Rick could feel the hard cock inside him getting even harder. Then the hand was back. The fingertips tickled the head with that unbelievably light touch exactly where the nettle leaf had stung it. They stroked and teased with sadistic gentleness. Rick was losing his mind. He was just about to scream when the grip got tighter and the thumb positioned itself on the frenulum.

“You have my permission to cum.”

Anders’ hips banged against Rick’s arse cheeks as the guy thrust deeply and hard. At the same time his leather-gloved hand milked the boy’s cock. Seconds later they were both cumming. Anders groaned deeply as his controlled fucking resulted in a sublimely satisfying climax - and Rick was yelling manically into the hood as his spunk squirted uncontrollably and volcanically all over Anders’ milking fingers. It was the longest - and certainly the most intense - orgasm the boy had ever had.

Rick’s face was red, his hair was plastered to his head and creases from the tight hood showed on his face. But he was beaming.

Under the leather mask, so was Anders. They lay on the bed in the room next to the playroom, side by side, the boy gently licking Anders’ leather jacket. His hand was stroking the man’s now-quiescent bulge.

“So, have you enjoyed the weekend?”

Rick turned his head to look up at the man “Oh fuck yes. Thank you.”

Anders gave him a squeeze. “So have I. Very much. And you managed not to break the rule.”

“I did. Though we both know you could have made me fail any time you wanted.”

Anders chuckled. He turned to face the boy. “Now, I said that I would give you a gift if you succeeded.”

Rick had forgotten about that.

“Tell me, is there anything you would particularly like?”

Rick didn’t even have to think about it. “I would like to see your face.”

Anders chuckled again. “I’m afraid that’s not on offer. I’m sorry. Nobody ever sees my face. Period. I like it that way. It turns me on that you want to see me but you can’t.”

Rick sighed in disappointment. He thought for a moment. “Well, there is one thing, but it might be too much to ask.”

“Try me.”

“That complicated hood. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever worn.”

Anders smiled beneath the mask. “It’s yours.”

An hour later Rick was back inside the black cab. He waited until the door had closed and lifted his hood off his head. The windows were still blacked out, but he sat back, happy, as the cab moved off.

For a while he tried to commit to memory the turns it took, having half an idea that he would try to trace the journey later – but it was impossible. He had no idea where he was – he could have been a mile away from his flat or a hundred miles away from it.

Eventually the liquid in the windows began to sink and clear glass appeared above it. He recognised the part of town he was in. A few minutes later the cab drew up outside his flatbut the door didn’t open. Instead a little drawer slid out in the lower part of the partition behind the driver. In it was a USB memory stick. Rick picked it up and turned it over. There was nothing written on it. The drawer closed and the cab door opened. He started to get out. But before he did, he looked round at the back of the driver’s head. “Thank you,” he said. The driver nodded, still looking straight ahead. It was impossible to see his face.

The moment Rick was outside, the door closed and the cab moved away down the street. As he watched it go, he held the hood in his hands, his fingers stroking the shiny black leather. It had been a wonderful weekend, but he desperately wanted to see Anders again.

He lay down on the bed. He looked at the hood in his hands for a while then pulledit slowly over his head. He felt for the lacing at the back and tightened it, then fastened all the straps, one by one. The hood clung to his face, enveloping him in sexy leather blackness. He pulled his jeans down and took his hard cock in his hand. He would get to his other experiences of the last couple of days very soon – but right now, on the screen of his imagination he intended to re-live just one of them: being fucked and milked by that amazing, beautiful leather god Anders.

It was late in the evening when he sat down at the computer. His mind was still full of the amazing weekend, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to concenrate on emails. He sighed, and was just about to switch the machine off when his eyes came to rest on the memory stick; he’d forgotten all about that.

He plugged it into the computer and waited for it to load. An icon came up on the screen with the title “watchme”. He double-clicked it.

After a few seconds he found himself looking at the opening sequence of the Star Wars film.

Rick grinned. This time, he’d be able to see the bloody thing.