The Telemachus Story Archive

To Be A Slave
By Hooder (Illustrated by Hooder)
Email: hooder@ntlworld.com



To Be a Slave

Mike had been at the party for about ten minutes when he first set eyes on Master Paul. Paul was Mike's fantasies incarnate: tall, goodlooking, muscular, experienced, and wore black leather like he'd been born in it. To Mike, he was was sex on legs - and from that first moment the boy was determined that he was going to become one of the man's slaves.

Mike was totally shameless about using his lithe young body and cute boyish charm to turn the man on blind. And it was working: Paul seemed very interested in the young punk - at least he had a hard-on in his shiny, form-fitting leather jeans.

They talked for ages, and towards the end of the evening, smiling indulgently at Mike's clearly desperate wish to become his slave, Paul arranged an interview with him for the following day.

Sitting in a book-lined study in Paul's palatial house Mike was asked a lot of questions: why did he want to be a slave? Why a slave to Paul? What was his experience? What were his turn-ons, turn-offs, fetishes, fantasies, financial and work situation? The list was long.

The boy answered as well and as honestly as he could, trying to keep his eyes down as he imagined protocol required, but he was constantly distracted by this sexy, gorgeous leatherman sitting in the other amchair; Paul turned Mike on like crazy.

"I have a number of slaves, and the standards I demand of them are high." Paul regarded the punk over the rim of his coffee cup. "What I suggest is that you come downstairs with me now, and we'll see how you do. Ok?"

Mike's cock jumped in his jeans. He was going to have a session with this beautiful man! Now! "Yes, Sir," He replied, bowing his head slightly and trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Downstairs, in a very well-equipped playroom, Master Paul sat down in a leather chair. He planted his feet on the ground, and pointed at them. "On your knees, boy, and lick those boots".

Mike obeyed instantly, and set about giving those immaculate leather boots the most thorough licking they'd ever had.

And then it happened - Master Paul reached down and gently gripped the hard bulge of the boy's cock between his fingers. Mike opened his mouth and, with a mortified expression on his face, shot his load into his jeans there and then.

Paul stayed in that position for a moment, saying nothing, until Mike had finished cumming, then stood up. "Well," he said, trying his best to hide a smile, "if you want to be a slave of mine you are going to have to learn a little self-control, I think."

"Y-yes Sir!" Mike was so ashamed he could hardly speak. He'd always cum easily, but he'd never lost control of himself like this before. He hung his head. "I'm so sorry, Sir."

Paul ran his hand through the boy's dark mohican. "Oh don't worry about it - I know someone who has both the facilities and the expertise to work on that for you. I'll make the necessary arrangements, if you like."

Mike looked up pleadingly at the beautiful leather-clad man towering over him. "Oh yes please, Sir! Yes please!"

* * *

That had been two days ago. Mike sat up gingerly - his head still throbbed from the drug he'd been given, presumably so that he wouldn't know where he was or how he'd got here. He was lying on a gurney in a huge playroom, and still wearing the the gear he'd been in before his abduction: bleached jeans, leather jacket and bike boots. At first he'd thought he was outside - the floor appeared to be sand, and the whole place was lit so brightly it looked like daylight. Standing on the ground were two large devices. One looked like something out of a mad dentist's surgery, with a metal arm reminiscent of some kind of drill, and with a control panel at the side; the other was more vertical, with iron restraints, and a small metal plate set at an angle at the front. He didn't have time for much more investigation as the door opened and a figure entered.

"Ah, I see you're awake. Good."

Mike's cock jumped in his jeans. The figure was a vision of shiny black perversion: over the skintight latex one-piece suit he wore a leather jacket, tall black leather boots, and long rubber gloves. His head was completely covered by a rubber mask, through which only his eyes were visible.

"My name is Master Jeremy - but you may call me 'Sir'.

"Yes Sir," replied Mike respectfully.

"Paul has asked me to work with you on your lack of self-control, as I'm something of a specialist at this sort of thing. We will be using these two machines. You'll get to know both of them very well." He walked over to the mad dentist contraption. "This one will test and record your progress. The other will train you. For now, let's concentrate on this first one. Come here and have a good look at it."

Mike climbed down off the gurney and stood by Jeremy's side as he explained how it worked.

"You lie back over these padded supports, and the steel cuffs will keep you in position so that you can't move or get away from this..." he pointed to the metal arm. "This will be positioned directly over your crotch, and the end piece will rotate. You see it has a blunt point. It's designed to work through jeans - which is why you are still wearing your gear. The point will press gently against your cock head and revolve. It will make you cum. It's quite impossible to resist - and, being a constant, repeatable stimulus, the time it takes to make you cum can be used to monitor your progress quite well. After each training session you will be strapped down on here and the machine will be switched on. When you can hold out for five minutes without letting it make you cum, your training will be complete. There is a timer on the wall over there," he pointed to a large clock face with a red second hand on it, "it's connected to the machine. Any questions so far?"

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Mike looked at the machine and touched the pointed tip with his finger - it seemed harmless enough, and he was sure he could resist a mechanical device like that quite easily. "No Sir, thank you Sir," he replied brightly.

"Very well - let's begin. Get on."

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Mike climbed onto the device and lay back. When his arms and legs were in the right places, Master Jeremy pressed one of the buttons on the control panel and the metal restraints closed around the punk's limbs and stomach with a click. His cock was already erect from being in the presence of such a horny-looking masked guy, and Jeremy moved Mike's cock to one side under his jeans to present a better target for the stimulator. He swung the arm across and positioned the point of the metal cone carefully right on the centre of the boy's cock head.When he was satisfied with the placement, he went to the control panel and pressed another button. A motor began to whirr quietly, and the tip began to rotate.

 

The stimulator was cone-shaped, but with the pointed end skewed to one side, and when it began to turn, the point traced out a circle which went from the tip of his cock to the flange of the head, and back. The moment it began to move, Mike let out a gasp of surprise: it felt unbelievably erotic. Within seconds he felt himself nearing orgasm, but was determined that he was not going to humiliate himself again by cumming so soon. He struggled in the restraints, trying to move his cock away from the stimulator, but the restraints had been carefully designed to make that quite impossible. The point turned, running over the thin denim of his jeans and stimulating his sensitive cock head with mechanical precision. This device had been designed to make victims cum, and it was irresistable. Struggling in the restraints, and shaking his head violently, Mike yelled "NOOOO!!!!" But his cock erupted inside his tight bleachers and the denim turned dark and shiny as his spunk pumped out uncontrollably from the relentless milking of the machine.

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Jeremy turned it off and looked at the timer on the wall. "Hmmm... thirty-one seconds. Looks like we have a lot of work to do..."

It was later. Mike had been allowed to rest and recover, had been given a meal and had used the bathroom (under supervision so that he couldn't wank in there). The constant presence of Jeremy in that hot, hot rubber - and imagining running his hands over the man's shiny black body and licking his gear - had got Mike horny again. Although Mike had no idea what Jeremy looked like under the mask, the man was at least as sexy as Master Paul, and the fact that he was anonymous was a turn-on itself for the boy.

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"Ok. Time for your first training session." He led the now-naked Mike to the second device. This looked like something out of a medieval dungeon: there was a vertical post to which were welded a series of iron bands. It was obvious how the restraints functioned, and Mike knew that once fastened inside that thing he would be very helpless indeed. He wondered exactly what Master Jeremy had planned, and how this 'training' would work.

Jeremy secured him into it - the boy's arms were held down by his sides, and the iron bands went around his neck, stomach and pelvis, holding him completely immobile. His legs were spread wide. For the life of him Mike couldn't figure out what the training would consist of, or what the little metal plate at the front was for.

Jeremy was clearly enjoying the fact that the punk had no idea what was going to happen to him, and was smiling under his mask as he fastened the restraints tightly around the boy's body.

When he was satisfied that Mike was secure, Jeremy attached a separate device to the back of the platform the boy was standing on - it was a long, thin, smooth metal buttplug, slightly curved, and was attached to a rod which disappeared into a box at the base. He loosened a knob and raised the plug, inserting it gently into the helpless punk, and positioning it very carefully. The feel of it sliding smoothly inside him made Mike's cock harden.

"Ah - we have to start with your cock soft," said the man. He produced a pump bottle and sprayed ice-cold water onto the offending member, making Mike gasp. But his cock softened immediately. Jeremy put the bottle down and turned the thinner arm with the metal plate so that it was directly above Mike's cock. "Good, that seems in order," said Jeremy. "I'll see you in an hour." With a final check on the buttplug and the metal plate, he pressed a button on the side of the machine and left the room.

Mike wondered what was going to happen. Then he felt a slight tinging inside him. The buttplug was electric! The intensity gragually increased and the boy closed his eyes with pleasure: it was positioned exactly on his prostate. As the current continued to rise, so did his cock. This felt fantasic. He could get used to this. With his eyes tightly shut, Mike moaned in ecstasy.

Suddenly Mike yelled. "AAARRGGHH!" The pain was excruciating. Snapping open his eyes, he saw that the head of his now-erect cock was touching the metal plate - which was also electrified. He fought to escape the restraints but they held him fast. But the pain didn't last long - the moment his cock had made contact with the electrode, the current in the butt plug had stopped, and his cock quickly lost its erection. It continued to soften.

After a pause of a few seconds, the butt plug started again. A low tingling at first, but as before it slowly increased in intensity until he began to get hard once more. Knowing now what to expect, he tried with all his might to stop himself from getting turned on, but his will had no control over his reaction to the stimulation on his prostate, and his cock rose slowly, getting harder and harder. And there was nothing he could do about it.

"Fight it, boy," whispered Jeremy's voice. He must be watching - and was talking through a loudspeaker somewhere in the room "Control your cock. Don't get hard..."

Mike heard a taunting, sadistic tone in the voice - as if the man knew that the boy was helpless to fight it, that his cock would get hard and that there was nothing the punk could do about it - and was enjoying the fact.

Mike concentrated with everything he'd got. He willed himself to ignore the beautiful, sexy feelings in his arse, and to keep his cock soft - but he couldn't. A few seconds later he was yelling in pain again as electricity zapped through his sensitive cock.

The cycle repeated. Sweating, he looked at the timer on the wall: four minutes gone. Fifty-six minutes to go...

He thought he might be able to get used to the feeling on his prostate, but the devils who had designed this machine had made it so that the kind of stimulation kept changing - and, as they'd intended, every time it did, it broke his self-control completely.

The pure fiendishness of this device - his helplessness to overcome it, despite the simplicity of its design; and the fact that it worked automatically on a response he was incapable of controlling however hard he tried - turned him on like fuck. Each time he got zapped he vowed that next time he would control himself. He would NOT get hard. But he did. There was absolutely nothing he could do to stop himself. And each time his cock touched that plate the pain was unbearable.

By the end of the hour Mike was drenched in sweat, and his muscles ached from struggling to escape. He was also as horny as fuck. Quite apart from the pain, repeatedly being brought close to orgasm and then denied release had been pure torture. This machine, he thought, would have been perfect for the Inquisition - if they'd had electricity then.

Jeremy reappeared, carrying the boy's bleachers, and released him. "Put those on and get onto the other machine."

Mike wanted to protest - he was so horny at the moment that he didn't think he'd last long on it - but he knew better than to question a Master. He squeezed into his jeans and got onto the milker. Jeremy positioned the cone, and looked at the helpless boy. "You know, the intensity of the shocking plate in the training device gets higher each session. Next time it's going to be a lot worse. It really is in your interest not to cum too quickly on this." He switched the machine on.

The cone began to rotate over Mike's cock head, pressing gently into the thin denim. Mike screwed up his eyes in concentration. He would fight this thing.

Jeremy's mouth curled into a sadistic smile under his rubber mask as he watched the boy writhing in his restraints and trying desperately to fight the machine - and when, seconds later, Mike screamed and shot his spunk into his jeans again, Jeremy's himself came. He loved nothing better than seeing a sexy boy helpless to stop himself from shooting. He looked at the timer. "Twenty-eight seconds this time. You're going the wrong way, my boy."

The second training session was a lot worse than the first had been. The voltage on the shocking plate was much higher, and brought screams of pain from Mike every time his cock touched it. In addition to the butt plug working on his prostate, another device with a revolving feather was tickling his balls and inner thighs. It was so fucking unfair , he thought. But that only served to turn him on more - and there was still nothing at all he cold do to stop his cock from getting hard every time.

By the end of this hour, he was spending as much time being zapped as he was not being zapped - and his cock was no longer going very soft between cycles. He was almost delerious with both pain and pleasure; the two seemed to overlap now and he was no longer sure which was which. When the sixy minutes were up and the machine stopped, Mike wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. He did both.

With his tight bleachers on again, and strapped down to the milking machine, Mike was trembling. "It's unfair...." he whispered.

Jeremy positioned Mike's cock to one side again, so that there would be only a single, thin layer of denim protecting his sensitive cock head from the point of the cone, and switched it on. "Unfair? Yes, it is, isn't it..."

Mike tried not to look at Jeremy, who was gently massaging his own cock through his latex one-piece as he stared at the boy, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the sexy man. The cone did its work, and the boy came again - this time after just twenty seconds.

"You're not doing too well, are you? Perhaps the stronger shock next time will help. But that will be tomorrow."

Mike had no idea what time it was, but it must be late - he realized he felt tired now. Jeremy led him to a bedroom, and after supervising him in the bathroom, secured him spread eagled to the bed. "Sleep well, boy, and we'll continue your training in the morning."

Mike's cock was stabbing the air - he was as horny as fuck, and he didn't get much sleep.

After breakfast next morning Jeremy took him to a different room. This one was bare except for a large padded mat on the floor. "Are you any good at wrestling?"

Mike smiled; although he hadn't done it for a while, he'd been one of his school's best wrestlers - and the thought of rolling around on the floor with this rubber hunk appealed greatly. "Not bad, " he said. He had no doubts at all that he could take this man in a fair fight.

He should have known it wouldn't be fair.

"Strip."

Mike stripped out of his gear and stood naked with a hard-on in front of Jeremy.

"Now, instead of the training machine, I thought we could have a fun fight today instead. The purpose is to get you horny, so that resisting the milking machine is difficult for you."

The unfair tactics - and the blatant honesty about that unfairness - turned Mike on like crazy. He found it infuriatingly frustrating, especially as there was not a thing he could do about it. Well, Master Jeremy might get a shock when they started to wrestle.

Jeremy picked up a leather hood and held it up. "This will make things much more interesting for you. You won't be able to see to fight." Although the mask hid his face, the smile in his voice was unmistakable.

"You bastard!" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he waited in fear for Master Jeremy's reaction. But the man's only reaction was a broadening of the smile under the mask. "A bastard? Hehe - you have no idea, my boy. Come here and turn round away from me."

Mike did as he was ordered, standing unresisting as the black leather came down over his head, cutting off all sight. He heard the click of a lock after the straps were tightened, and knew that although his hands were free he wouldn't be able to get the hood off. He moved his head experimentally, but the leather over his face followed his movements, blindfolding him completely. He felt disorientated and very vulnerable.

Suddenly Jeremy launched himself at the punk, knocking him down onto the padded mat. Not having seen the attack coming, Mike had not been prepared for it, and landed on his back with an "Ooof!" The man was sitting on his chest, and pinning the boy's arms down with his own. His rubber crotch slid over Mike's hard cock, carressing it.

Then Jeremy was gone. Mike sat up, listening intently, but the thick leather made hearing difficult and he couldn't decide where the man was. He got up onto all fours, preparing to stand up.

A rubber-gloved hand enclosed his cock and began to slide up and down on a film of lube. Simultaneously Jeremy's other hand slid deftly between his thighs from behind, the fingers cupping his balls gently. The unexpectedness of this made him reflexively fall to his side and curl up into a foetal position to try to protect his genitals, his hands clawing at the rubber man's to get it off his cock, but it was several seconds before he succeeded in pulling the man's hand off - seconds during which the milking fingers had got him perilously close to cumming.

Jeremy was gone again. Mike realized that trying to fight was hopeless when he couldn't see a fucking thing, so he put both hands over his crotch and curled up tighter into a ball to protect himself.

But Jeremy knew how to deal with boys who did this. He clamped a hand over Mike's hooded mouth, a rubber finger carefully positioned to seal the two air holes in the hood and, holding the boy's struggling head firmly in his grip, simply waited. Mike ran out of air quickly, and started to panic. He brought his hands up to force Jeremy's away, but by the time they got there the man's hands were no longer at his head. One went straight to his cock, milking quickly and rubbing a thumb over the cock head; and the other slipped inside the boy's arse hole.

That very nearly made Mike cum - but he twisted out of reach just in time. He went back into the tight foetal position, but this time with his head pressed tight against his knees to make access to the hood's air holes more difficult.

Jeremy smiled, quickly placed his stiff fingers on Mike's sides, and probed deeply.

Mike screamed - he was extremely ticklish. Jeremy tickled the boy hard and mercilessly, his fingers getting at all of Mike's most vulnerable spots from unexpected directions. Unable to see them coming, Mike was helpless to escape the torment, and writhed about on the mat, laughing hysterically. Wherever he moved, Jeremy's hand found his cock and continued to tease and milk it. Although Mike was in no physical restraint other than the hood, he was as helpless under the tickling fingers as if he'd been tied up. Whenever he moved to protect one ticklish spot it would make another one - or his cock - accessible to Jeremy's rubber-gloved hands. He had never felt so humiliated - or as controlled - in his life. He had never realized that such a simple thing as not being able to see could make a boy so horrendously vulnerable and helpless. That thought by itself was almost making him cum.

But Jeremy was being careful not to make him cum. It would be so easy to make him shoot, but he wanted the boy horny for the testing machine.

Eventually Jeremy stopped, and handed Mike his bleachers. "Put them on," he said.

Mike groaned, knowing what was coming, but obeyed.

The pointed cone began to rotate over the head of his cock. This time he was intensely horny from the wrestling, and he was still hooded. The machine made him cum in fourteen seconds.

Jeremy had taken Mike into a different enormous room now - good grief this place was huge, the boy thought. Unlike the last one, this room was darker, and seemed to be designed to resemble an Incan temple. There were ornate pillars and mosaic floors, and lots of fiendish-looking devices the purposes of which Mike could only - shudderingly - guess at. There was something that looked like a rack over to one side.

Mike was strapped into a different frame now - this was a circular frame with restraints for a straight spread eagle - and he was wearing some other jeans Jeremy had given him. These were shiny black PVC - and the thinnest material he had ever seen. They moulded to his shape like rubber.

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A sheen of sweat was visible on his bare chest as he watched Jeremy pull up a stool and sit down in front of him. The man was holding two stiff feathers.Mike's cock was rock-hard and the outline was so meticulously revealed under the thin, skintight PVC jeans that it was possible to see the veins on the shaft. Thin as these jeans were, though, he was sure he wouldn't be able to feel the touch of a feather through them - if that's what the man was intending to do.

Wrong. As Jeremy traced the tip of one feather up the inside of Mike's thigh, the boy gasped in surprise. It felt amazing. Not quite as tickly as it would have been on his bare skin, but a hundred times more erotic. Over the next thirty minutes the man did nothing more than use the feathers on the insides of the boy's thighs - not once did he touch the lad's balls or hard cock with them.

The first minute was wonderful. The second began to get frustrating, and by the third minute Mike was thrusting his hips trying to cum. It went on and on, and there was nothing the boy could do to stop it. He longed to feel something on his cock, rubbing it, but the feathers never went there. Just his inner thighs.

By the time the thirty minutes was up Mike was delerious. He would never have believed that this could have got him so desperately horny - but he would have promised the man anything just for a rub on his cock.

And then the feathers began working on his balls. The punk thought he would go insane. Gently, slowly, they carressed, tickled and teased over the shiny black PVC-covered bulge, reaching right through to his perineum and occasionally working on his arsehole from behind. Mike pumped his hips, trying to get friction on his cock, but that was impossible. He was sobbing in frustration and need.

Jeremy's cock was as hard as steel in his black rubber, forcing the latex out into a huge bulge between his thighs. Every now and then he would pause from working on Mike and massage that bulge. Twice Mike saw the man cum from making the helpless boy suffer so much - and that only made Mike more desperate to cum himself.

But if Mike had thought things were bad so far, he changed his mind when the feathers reached his cock. They carefully avoided the head altogether, and worked only on the shaft, teasing and tickling up and down and round and round so lightly... Far from being protection, the thin, sensitive PVC jeans made the teasing much more sexy and erotic than it would have been even on his bare skin.

"PLEASE SIR!" He could keep silent no longer. "PLEASE - I HAVE to cum. Pleeeeeease make me cum."

Jeremy stroked the tip of one feather lightly - just once - over the boy's cock head. It was the first time he'd touched it since this session had begun, and the intensity of the feeling brought a howl of animal lust from Mike. "You want to cum? Just imagine what it would feel like if I gripped your cock between my finger and thumb - like this -" he gripped his own cock through the rubber in just the way he was describing, " and rubbed up and down hard and fast," his fingers began milking his own cock. "Oh fuck that feels so good." He closed his eyes and threw his head back in ecstasy. "Oh shit... Oh fuck I'm gonna cummmmmmm....." Mike watched as his cock bucked between his fingers under the shiny black rubber, each separate gob of spunk visibly stretching the rubber as it shot out of his cock before running down the shaft onto his balls. The man's knees twitched together and apart in the throes of orgasm.

Mike let out a long, desperate groan of frustration. He needed to cum so fucking badly.

Jeremy stood up, released Mike and secured him to the milking machine immediately. Taking no notice whatever of the boy's protests, he switched it on.

The pointed cone revolved on the thin sensitive PVC, and Mike screamed as he came. "Oh FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!!!! His whole body tensed and vibrated like a guitar string as he experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

The timer had stopped at nine seconds.

Jeremy released Mike. "I don't think there's any point in going any further. I'll give Master Paul your results and no doubt he'll be in touch with you." The man left Mike to get dressed, then returned with the the leather blindfolding hood, which he put over the boy's head for the return journey in the back of the van.

* * *

They were sat in the study again, Master Paul sipping cognac from a crystal goblet and reading the report on Mike from Jeremy.

After a long while Paul sighed, and shook his head slowly. "This is not good."

Mike wanted to explain how the 'training' had not been training at all, that in fact Jeremy had done every unfair thing he could to make sure the boy failed the tests, but he knew it would make no difference so he just sat there glumly.

"As I said before, Mike, I expect very high standards of my slaves." He looked at the report again and shook his head once more.

Mike was on the verge of tears.

"Go wait in the next room while I make a phone call."

Mike got up and walked disconsolately into the lounge, closing the door behind him. He sat down in one of the armchairs and thought. If Paul wouldn't have him as a slave, was there any chance that Master Jeremy would? There was something incredibly sexy about the man - both about the way he looked in that hot rubber and leather and mask, and also about his unfair, devious, frustrating methods. In fact the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that it was Jeremy he wanted to be worked on by - and for a very long time.

Back in the study, Paul picked up the telephone and dialled a number.

"Jeremy? Hi - it's Paul. How's things?"

"Hi Paul. Fine thanks. Did you get my report on Mike?"

"Yes, that's what I'm calling about. What do you think?"

"Hopeless. You have the figures there. I used the electric trainer on him a number of times, but it seemed to have no effect at all. That boy just cannot control himself. In fact if you look at the numbers you'll see that his performance got worse, not better. I tried my best to improve his score, but no good."

"Hmm. Well he's no good to me like that, and I don't have the time to train him over a longer period."

Paul thought for a moment. "Would you be interested in him?"

There was a short pause, the Jeremy said: "well I'm not really looking for a slave at present."

"He's a very cute boy, and I know you like cute boys, Jeremy..."

"Yes, he is cute, I'll give him that - but I don't know what use he'd be to me."

Before Paul could reply, Jeremy continued: "still, I suppose I could take him off your hands."

"Could you? I know he's desperate to be someone's slave..."

"Well as I said, I'm not sure what I could do with him, but as a favour to you, Paul, I'd be willing to take him on."

"Are you sure?"

"Well no, not really, but yeah, tell him I'll take him on."

"I appreciate that, Jeremy. He's basically very eager to please. I'm sure you could do something with him."

"Hmmm."

"Thanks mate - I won't forget this. I owe you one. I'll make the arrangements. Take care of yourself."

"No problem Paul. All the best."

Paul replaced the receiver...

.. As did Jeremy. He punched the air and yelled "YESSSS!!!!!"

It had worked. Not only had he made Paul grateful to him, but he had also got himself the cutest, sexiest punk boy he'd seen for a very long time. 'Not sure what use he'd be to me...'? "Oh Jeremy, you should have been a fucking actor!" He laughed. He was going to have the time of his life using that punk's uncontrollable need to cum to torture him out of his mind. He squeezed his cock as he thought of inventing ever more unbearable ways to tease that beautiful punk boy. Oh yes, Mike would most certainly be of use to him.

And he knew the punk would love every fucking second of it.

Looking very pleased with himself, he pulled a sheet of paper towards him and sucked the end of the pencil thoughtfully. Now, he thought, how could he really drive that boy insane...?

With a flash of inspiration that was pure evil, he smiled and began to sketch...