The Telemachus Story Archive

The Art Of Frustration
By Hooder
Email: hooder@ntlworld.com



The Art of Frustration

 

I'd fancied Darren since the first time I'd seen him - he was a hunk. He was also a prickteaser: when I'd made my interest known to him he'd looked me up and down slowly, smiling that sexy smile of his, and instead of saying 'come on then' and leading me back to his place, he'd sucked his teeth for a while and then said, "ask me again next Saturday, David."

I'd done just that, and after another sexy smile, had got the reply, "Next Saturday."

Ok, one more time and that's it, I'd thought. He'd smiled again as he'd seen me approach him, and before I could say anything, he handed me a piece of paper. "Seven pm, there." He pointed to the paper in my hand. "Don't be late. Oh, and wear some jeans that feel horny."

I'd nodded, and by the time I'd got to the door of the bar I had a full-scale hard-on. I was finally going to have sex with that hunky, sexy guy.

 

* * *

It's fucking ridiculous - I'm hardly what you'd call inexperienced, but I'm nervous! I raise my hand to ring the doorbell again but someone's bounding down the stairs the other side of the door. The door opens and there he is, looking amazing. Bike boots, leather jeans, and a denim cut-off with studs and badges, over his black leather bike jacket. "Hi Darren," I say.

"Hiya David. Come on up." He closes the door behind me and leads to up the stairs to his bedroom. I watch the highlights moving in the shiny black leather stretched tightly over his round arse as he climbs the stairs in front of me. I follow the stitching of the seam as it separates his cheeks and heads down to a perineum and then up to a bulge of cock and balls which, from my present position, I can only imagine. Boy, am I going to enjoy playing with Darren.

We enter the bedroom and he closes the door. It's a large, and very male, room - I see a motorbike tyre standing against a wall; magazines scattered over a table; a restraint frame standing to one side, and a large double bed with restraint points dotted around it.

He puts his leather-jacketed arms around me, pulls me to him and kisses me hard on the mouth. I can feel his cock-bulge pressing into mine, and my knees going weak as I lose myself in that kiss. Too soon he pulls away, smiling that sexy smile, and leads me to the bed. Gently he pushes me onto it, then bends down and kisses me again - slowly this time. Our lips stick together a little when he lifts his head, as if even they don't want the kiss to end. He gazes into my eyes for a while, then says, "I fancied something a bit different with you - a threesome."

I frown. What's this?

He's still smiling. "Meet Billy." He turns towards the door and shouts the name.

The door opens immediately and Billy comes in. I stare, and then swallow. Fuck me, he is gorgeous. Where Darren is a hunk, Billy is most definitely a boy. About 5'6", blue-eyed, with a shaggy mop of blond hair and a swimmer's build, he is one of cutest and most rape-able boys I've ever seen. He's wearing skintight faded jeans, his hard cock clearly outlined under the thin denim; a tight white teeshirt; and trainers. There's a thin, studded leather collar around his neck, and leather cuffs around his wrists and ankles.

"I thought I'd like to work on both of you at once. Billy's gonna get tickle-tortured, cum-controlled, and then milked - and I think that those are exactly the kind of things that you like, David..."

He's right there. My mind races, switching between images of getting the boy Billy helpless, and then tickling the fuck outta him; and Darren tied up, with me edging his cock to the point of insanity before milking it torturously slowly to an earth-shattering orgasm.

Billy jumps onto the bed by my side, then holds me and kisses me, pulling my right hand down and placing it on the hot bulge of his cock. The denim feels tight and warm beneath my fingers, and as I squeeze his cock I feel a pulse of response. My own cock is almost bursting.

After a while I feel hands pulling mine gently but firmly off the boy, and behind my back. There is a double 'click' and I realise I've been cuffed. I turn and see Darren smiling at me. "Just relax," he says. Then he pulls a leather strap around my booted ankles and buckles it tight.

At a wave of Darren's hand, Billy climbs over me and gets off the bed. Darren takes him over by the door and clips a lead to his collar. As if that's a signal, Billy sinks to his knees and buries his face in Darren's crotch, licking the shiny black leather lovingly. The boys' hands are curled around Darren's legs, his fingers running up and down the insides of Darren's thighs, and now he pulls his shaggy blond head back for a moment to see his target more clearly, then extends his tongue fully and runs the very tip slowly and repeatedly up the full length of Darren's bulging cock from the very base to the tip - each time swirling his tongue around the shiny leather-covered cockhead and gently running his teeth over it - and causing Darren to groan with increasingly urgent pleasure - before going back to the base to begin again.

The sight of sexy, hunky Darren in full leather and that cute, fuckable boy Billy in those skintight faded jeans - together - is blowing my mind. Two guys I fancy like fuck, albeit in different ways, both wearing gear for which I have intense fetishes, and both into the very things I'm into; Have I died and gone to heaven?

Darren pulls Billy to his feet. "Put your hands on top of your head and keep them there."

"Oh no, please...." Billy whimpers. Being told to put his hands there must mean something to him. He interlaces his fingers on his head, and grits his teeth.

Darren extends one finger of his right hand, slowly moves it up towards the boy's armpit. Billy's eyes are wide, staring fixatedly at the approaching finger. He begins to shake his head slowly, and his body starts to tremble. I watch in fascination at this odd response. Then I understand. As Darren's fingertip makes contact with the skin in the centre of the boy's armpit and begins to slide gently downwards, Billy loses it. He parts his hands and clamps his elbows to his sides, doubling up and jerking around to get away from the tickling finger. He is giggling hysterically, and ends up on the floor, curled into a tight ball.

Darren looks at me. "He is the most ticklish boy I've ever known. And he can't stand being tickled. Which is why I like doing it to him so much." He returns his attention to Billy, who is now slowly uncurling, and looking up pleadingly.

"I'm going to tie this boy up, so that he can't get away from it, blindfold him so that he can't see when it's coming, and then I'm going to tickle his sides, his knees, his feet, his armpits, his stomach, his ribs, his lips, his thighs, his balls - and his cock. I'm going to tickle him until he can't beg me to stop any more, and then I'm going to tickle him to orgasm. I'm gonna make him cum in his tight, sexy, faded jeans. And when he's cum... then the REAL torture starts."

Billy curls up tightly again at this, moaning and shaking his head. My cock is as hard as steel inside my leather jeans. Darren had told me to wear some jeans that feel horny, and I've chosen the one pair that most certainly do that; the leather of these jeans feels so incredibly sexy that before now they've been known to milk me as I've been walking down the street.

Darren comes over to me and, as if he'd just read my mind, runs his fingers lightly up my leg and onto my cock bulge. "That leather's amazing. Bet it feels sexy from the inside."

"Oh yeah," I say.

"Good..." He winks at me, then goes over to Billy and sets about tying him up for the tickling. He pulls the boy's arms up and clips the leather cuffs to the upper rings of the restraint frame, then fastens his ankle cuffs to the lower ones. Billy is spreadeagled, accessible from the front and the back, and looking intensely vulnerable. Although he is still shaking his head in fear, and looks as if he's about to cry, his cock is even harder than it was before, and there is a small spot of precum turning the faded denim dark at the tip of his cockhead.

Darren takes a leather blindfold and forces it onto the suddenly-struggling boy, making sure he can't see a thing, and strapping it tightly behind his head. Satisfied that Billy is suitably helpless, he comes back to me and kneels astride my chest, his fingers gently squeezing my cock through my jeans. "I feel fucking sadistic today. I'm gonna tickle that boy slowly, methodically and as unbearably as I fucking can. He's gonna beg me to stop, and he's gonna beg me to let him cum. But I'm not gonna do either of those for a very, very long time. After I've driven him mad spreadeagled over there I'm gonna bring him back here, and hogtie him next to you on the bed. He knows that if he lets himself cum, it makes him even more ticklish than he is already, and that if he cums then I'll really go to town on him - and that's the worst kind of torture he can possibly imagine. Believe me, he is terrified of that. And you know what I'll do? I'll tickle his balls very lightly with one hand, and rub his cockhead slowly through his jeans with the other - because that is the one thing the sexy little bugger can't resist. Having that done to him through his tight jeans while he's hogtied and fighting against it makes him cum in seconds. He can't do a fucking thing to stop himself. I'll milk his cock here next to you until he loses it and creams his jeans. Then I'll tickle the fucker until he pisses himself.

The thought of watching that is making my cock so hard it hurts. But so far Darren hasn't said anything about what he's going to do with me. I'm usually top - and I thought I was going to be tonight, although we hadn't discussed roles - but I'm handcuffed and my legs are strapped together. This isn't quite how I'd imagined it was going to go.

Darren reaches over to the drawer in the bedside table and takes something out. It's a leather mask or hood of some kind. He holds it up for me to see. It's a hood - no eyeholes. It's just a simple head-and-neck-shaped leather bag with a zip running down the back. He undoes the zip and spreads the hood open. The inside is black shiny leather, supple and very soft.

My first thought it that the hood is for the boy, but he's already blindfolded. Is it for me, then? Is he going to play with me before he starts on Billy?

Darren leans over to the drawer again and takes out a bottle of mink oil. He pours a large amount into the hood, and spreads it around with his fingers, covering the area inside the front of the hood particularly thickly. He makes sure the two very small breathing holes are clear of the oil, then replaces the bottle in the drawer. He leans down and gives me a soft kiss, then pulls the hood onto my head, closing the zip.

The soft, oily leather moulds around my face, making contact with every millimeter of my skin. The mink oil makes it stick to my face, and increases the already intense feeling of helplessness. I can't remember anything ever feeling so sexy, and I decide I'm going to get one of these hoods for myself - and some of that oil. I feel my legs being bent, and then the leather strap being connected to my wrist cuffs. I'm hogtied. Hogtied, hooded, and indescribably horny.

I feel Darren get off the bed, and I hear him moving about in the room, then silence. I wait with baited breath for that hunky guy's touch on my helpless body.

Instead, there's a sudden scream of hysterical laughter. "No! No! Hahahahahaheeeeeeeeeeee......... Please! No! Not there!!" The words become indistinguishable as they turn into a long wailing shriek. Darren is tickling him - and by the sound of it, in exactly the ways he said he was going to.

"NO! NOT MY THIGHS!!! PLEEEEEEEASE! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! I CAN'T STAND IT!!!!!!"

"AAAAAAAAARRRRGHHHHH!!! HEEEE HEHEHEHEHEHE P-P-P-P-PLEEEEASE, NOT MY SIDES!!! NOT TH - AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

"Oh God no - please. PLEASE! STOP!! PLEASE STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING!! PLEEASE!!!! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!!"

I want to see. I want to see that cute boy struggling, fighting his restraints and screaming in helpless hysterics as the muscular, leather-clad Darren sadistically tickles him slowly and mercilessly, knowing it is the one thing the boy can't stand, and carefully making the torture as unbearable as possible. I want to see. Oh god I want to see!

But all I can see and feel is soft black leather, clinging to my face and blindfolding me. My cock is being caressed by my leather jeans with every movement I make and I've been close to cumming for several minutes. I'm so horny that I find myself opening and closing my knees in an attempt to bring myself off.

Darren must have seen me, as suddenly I feel hands on my legs, strapping my knees together tightly. Another rope or strap is tied to my cuffs and then to the side of the bed. Now I can't even roll over, or move my legs sufficiently to get enough friction from my leather jeans to make myself cum. The bastard. As he goes back to working on the boy I swear at him, and I swear at this fucking hood. Billy resumes screaming and laughing, begging for it to end, begging Darren to make him cum. I move my head violently against the bed, trying to dislodge the hood, to get that leather from over my eyes so that I can see that sexy guy working on that cute boy - but the hood doesn't move an inch. Its purpose is to blindfold a victim completely - to make it impossible for him to see what's going on however much he needs to or however hard he tries - and unless I can get it off, it will continue to deny me the one thing I want most of all at this moment: to watch Billy being tickled by Darren. On the backs of my eyelids I see images of Billy's cock jerking in urgent need inside the bulging denim of his skintight, faded jeans as Darren mercilessly tickle-tortures him; his own cock - steel-hardened by working on that gorgeous, helpless, vulnerable and excruciatingly ticklish boy - stretching the shiny leather of his jeans to bursting point between his thighs.

BUT I CAN'T FUCKING SEE IT!!

"Now, let's tickle those balls, shall we...?" Darren says. A moan and a sob from the boy. A quiet buzzing starts - a vibrator? An electric toothbrush? Or something even more unfair? Whatever it is seems to be extremely effective, as the boy lets out an ululating shriek of pure ticklishness. It goes on and on, occasionally interspersed with desperate pleading for it to stop, and begging to be brought off. I can hear him pulling against the restraints, banging against the bottom ones with his trainers.

It goes on and on.

Eventually the screaming stops and I hear Billy's restraints being unfastened. A moment later I feel the bed move, and hear the sound of tight-jeaned legs rubbing together as the boy is pushed onto the bed next to me. Then the creak of leather as Darren ties him up. I can hear Billy breathing heavily - he is facing me.

Darren begins a running commentary, as if he's thinking out loud - no doubt mostly for my benefit: "Oh fuck I love to see a boy hogtied. A boy who's desperate to cum, with his hard, horny cock stretching his jeans out like that. Oh fuck. Get his hands behind his back.... Yeah, feet strapped together... knees strapped together... then his feet up to his wrists like..... that. And there we go. One cute, sexy, ticklish teenager with a fetish for being tossed off in his jeans, hogtied, blindfolded and helpless - and he's gonna do every fucking thing he can to stop himself from cumming because he knows what I'm gonna do to him if he does."

Billy groans. It starts as a sound of pure hopelessness, but then, to my surprise, begins to take on a quality of determination. In the end the unspoken 'fuck you' in it is unmistakable.

"Mmmm..." whispers Darren, "those jeans feel soooooooo sexy. Can't keep my fingers out can you...? Stroking lightly up and down the insides of your thighs... Why are you struggling? Does that tickle? Or is it that it's making you more and more horny? Not gonna be easy to stop me making you cum if you're too horny, is it...?"

They're moving more forcefully on the bed now, I can hear Darren's leathers creaking as he manhandles the helpless boy into a more accessible position.

"Wanna get my fingers on your balls, so I can tickle them. It's no good squeezing your thighs together like that, it's not gonna stop me getting my hand through....." a grunt of exertion, "... like that!"

Billy moans again, but this time it's a sound of lust - a low groan of pleasure mixed with sharp intakes of breath as darren's fingers on his balls both make him need to cum, but also tickle like crazy.

"Now, where's the head of that horny boy-cock? Ah, got it. Gonna milk it through those tight, sexy jeans... "

Billy is swearing now, and the bed is rattling against the wall as the boy tries to get his desperate cock away from Darren's hands. A booted foot knocks against my knee. Billy is fighting with everything he's got, but Darren isn't even raising a sweat. His voice is level, taunting. "That's exactly what you can't resist isn't it? One hand tickling your balls, between your thighs so you can't get away from it, and the other on the head of your cock. Just the head, that's all we need to make you lose it, isn't it? Can you feel my fingers sliding over it? Over those tight, faded jeans? Milking you slowly? And you're fucking helpless to do anything about it. You can feel yourself getting closer, boy, can't you? But there's fuck all you can do about it." I hear him bend down to whisper into Billy's ear. "I'm gonna toss you off in your jeans, boy..." And then, "But whatever you do, don't let me make you cum - cos you know what's gonna happen if you do..."

I am beside myself. On the bed next to me, not three feet away, are two of the sexiest guys I've ever seen - a muscled hunk in shiny black leather raping the cock of a cute, kissable blond boy in skintight, faded jeans. I would pay a very great deal to see that on a DVD - but to be here, while it's happening feet away from me and not to be able to see it because of a fucking leather hood is making me seethe with a fury I've never known before. In a rage of frustration I bang my head against the bed to dislodge the hood, to tear it; I pull with every ounce of my strength against the cuffs and the leather straps so that I can get my hands free to rip that fucking hood off my head - but I remain helpless and blindfolded by the soft, oily, clinging black leather. I can hear the soundtrack of my ultimate fantasy, but I can't see a fucking thing! I moan and beg Darren to take the hood off me, but he ignores my pleading completely.

Darren's voice is gentle, teasing. "Oh fuck, it feels so good to work on a horny boy's cock, tickling it and teasing it through his jeans, slowly getting him closer and closer to the point where he's gonna lose control and shoot his spunk helplessly into that sexy, skintight faded denim..."

I hear him bend down closer and whisper again, "Gonna rape your cock, boy. Yeah, that's it, fight against it... But I'm gonna make you lose it and cum....."

The bastard Darren must have known exactly what he was going to do when he told me to wear some jeans that made me feel horny. As I lie here hogtied, on my side, the leather is caressing my cock gently. I can feel it stretched tight over my thighs and legs and, because of my position, pulling up into my groin at the sides of my balls, separating the bulge from my thighs. My cock is lying along my thigh, and although I can't see it, I can feel that the bulge it's making is enormous. I am desperate for it to be stroked, rubbed, milked...

"Ok, enough teasing. Time to make you shoot, boy." Suddenly the bed is shaking, Billy is yelling at the top of his voice "FUCK OFF YOU BASTARD!!" And Darren is grunting with the strain of following the boy's movements, keeping his fingers on that cockhead no matter what, milking it in the way that he knows Billy can't resist.

I yell obscenities at Darren, and scream in frustration, cursing the hood and trying everything I can think of to get the bloody thing off my head so that I can see that beautiful boy being forcibly milked in his jeans - but nothing I do has the slightest effect either on the hood or on the sadistic leather-clad bastard next to me. A moment later the air is rent as Billy screams at the top of his voice: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! OH FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!"

"Got you. Yeah... squirt it all out into those jeans - all that hot boy spunk. Can't stop it, can you? There's fuck-all you can do about it..."

The bed is now rocking rhythmically as Billy thrusts his hips, cumming helplessly under the irresistible stroking of Darren's milking fingers. I am crying with exasperation inside the leather hood. What has happened next to me on this bed is something I have dreamt about for as long as I can remember: an incredibly sexy guy in full black leathers force-milking a cute blond teenager in his skintight jeans. Raping his cock.

AND I COULDN'T SEE A FUCKING BIT OF IT.

Suddenly I jump as fingers close around my bulging cock and a voice whispers in my ear: "can you stop yourself from cumming, David?" The fingers grip the leather of my jeans and begin to slide it up and down my desperately horny cock. Three seconds later my spunk is pumping out, hitting the leather, running over my balls, down my thighs and I am yelling in ecstasy as he milks me. The fingers continue, not slowing at all until every last drop of my spunk has been extracted and I collapse back onto the bed in exhaustion.

Movement again as Darren repositions Billy on the bed, spreadeagling him, I think, and then the sound of a gag being forcibly applied. What follows is the pure torturing of a boy. I can't see, but I can almost feel Darren's fingers flying over the helpless youth's body as he tickles as unbearably, as mercilessly and as sadistically as he can. There is a constant, keening shriek from Billy, and abrupt jerks of the bed as the leather-clad bastard's fingers find a yet more responsive spot on his helpless victim's body.

Finally, after a particularly desperate scream, Billy falls silent. Darren stops, and gets off the bed. "He's fainted. He sometimes does when it's intense. Oh, and when you get off the bed, don't go this way - he's pissed himself as well."

Later, more movement, and the sound of Darren talking quietly to the boy. All I hear for certain is Billy saying, "Yes, I'm fine, thanks," and adding "you bastard," good-naturedly under his breath. I can only assume that these two do this sort of thing on a regular basis.

I hear Darren moving about the room, doing things, and then, later still, he unties me and removes my hood. I blink in the light, and look at the thing hanging from his hand. So innocuous - just a piece of shaped, double-thickness black leather with a zip in it - and yet it had stopped me from experiencing one of the most horny sights I would have witnessed in my entire life. I feel like taking it from him and tearing it into shreds.

Darren sees my expressions and seems to know exactly what I'm thinking. He looks at the hood, then holds it in front of me. "Such a small thing - and with such great power... Just think, it has seen things you can only dream about." He winks at me, goes to a cupboard and takes a carrier bag, carefully rolls the hood up and places it into the bag. Then he gives it to me. "There, it's yours." He smiles then. "Hooding you through all of that was a bit unfair of me, wasn't it..." He opens his hand and places a small object into mine. "You got a card reader on your computer?"

I nod. "Yeah, why?"

"That's a recording of it all. Enjoy."

I grin, and thank him.

He stands away from the bed. "Time for you to go, David. I have a boy to look after."

Clutching the bag, and not knowing what to say, I leave.

 

* * *

I am at home now, lying on the bed. I take the hood out of the bag - it's still rolled up from when Darren gave it to me. I put it on, zip it up. Most of the mink oil has soaked into the leather now, but there is still enough to cause the hood to cling to my face again. Instantly I get hard. Once again I try with all my might to see through the leather over my eyes, but of course I fail. Someone could break into my room right now and kidnap me, I think, and I would never know who they are. My cock gets even harder in my jeans. I think about that beautiful boy Billy, about his blond hair, his sexy body and those skintight faded jeans. Images of Darren, in those bike boots and shiny black leather jeans - his muscular chest showing under the leather jacket and denim cut-off - appear in my mind. I take the hood off and pop the memory card into the reader, then get my cock out and, playing with it slowly, press the "play" button to watch one of the most horny sessions of my life.

Darren is sitting astride me, holding the hood. He pours on the oil, and pulls the hood over my head, zips it up. Then he gets off, and walks towards the boy. He pauses, looks directly at the camera. His image gets bigger as he nears the lens, then something black comes down over the camera. The sounds continues, but from that point onwards I can see nothing but a black computer screen.