The Telemachus Story Archive

Absolute Power
By Hooder
Email: hooder@ntlworld.com



Absolute Power

Boris and Jamie couldn’t have been more different. One was thirty-four years old and built like a brick shithouse - six foot three inches of solid muscle, with tree-trunk thighs that strained his Levis. There were tattoos both on his shaved head and on his bulging arms beneath the leather shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his biceps. Heavy motorcycle boots were on his feet and his biker jacket was lying where he’d thrown it on the kitchen table. He did not look happy.

The other was a cute nineteen-year old emo – a small, thin lad with a boyish smile and shaggy, thick black hair which had been razored in a long ragged fringe across eyes that usually looked like they would be more at home on a frightened rabbit. He was standing with his arms behind his back.

Boris was furious. “I’ve told you over and over again: do not use my fucking computer, boy.” He yelled.

Jamie looked down to avoid Boris’s stare. “I’m sorry, Sir,” he mumbled.

“What? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

Jamie looked up reluctantly. “Sir. I’m sorry Sir. It won’t happen again, Sir.”

“Damn right it won’t happen again. Punishment frame. Now.” Boris pointed to the door.

Jamie looked like he was about to cry. “No, please Sir. Not that.”

“NOW!”

Jamie knew he had no choice. Reluctantly he dragged himself out of the kitchen.

Boris strapped his boy tightly into the sturdy frame. It was designed to hold him helpless however hard he struggled, and in the most vulnerable position possible for the punishment he always inflicted on him; it had all been carefully thought out.

Boris’s hands came up and he started to tickle torture Jamie. He always loved to watch the enormous, powerful muscles bulging as the huge biker strained against the restraints to escape the one thing he was defenseless against.

Please Sir, STOP!” He yelled in desperation as he writhed under the emo boy’s hands, “I’ll do anything. I’m sorry. I’ll never touch your computer again. I promise. Please! STOP! I can’t take it!”

“You know the rules, Jamie. Half an hour.”

Smiling sadistically, Boris dug his fingers into Jamie’s muscular sides even harder.