The TV came on. It was Abrahams, smiling sweetly. "Hello my boy. You did well with your homework. Good descriptions. I especially liked the last one – the way you described the creases in the jeans just under the leatherboy's bulge. I hope you enjoyed writing it. Now, we're moving on to something else today. I'll be along to see you very soon." He waved and disappeared.
Half an hour later he was sat opposite the boy. "Now, Jamie, your tests are finished. You might have been wondering what they were all about, and now I can tell you." He leaned back in the chair.
"Boys like you who are beginning to explore their sexuality don't yet know what the things are that will ultimately give them the most sexual pleasure. I'm talking about what kinds of things they will like having done to them – or doing to others – or what their fetishes might be.
"The staff here are very skilled at finding those things out. You see, even if you don't know what they are, they're still there in your mind, in embryonic form, ready to develop into full-blown fetishes and turn-ons. We simply identify them, then encourage them, feed them. What might have only developed into a slight sexual interest, we can make blossom into something so powerful that it can grip you and control you. That's what we're looking for here. Things that can take away, overpower, your self-control completely.
"With you, Jamie, we know that leather can do that, and being restrained – although being helpless infuriates you as well as turns you on – and even being tickled. You never used to have any interest in other boys, and yet now even looking at Aaron or Alan or some of the others gets you hard instantly. We also know that you have urges sometimes to do those things to other boys – to tickle them, edge them, make them cum – often in devious ways you'd never have thought of before. You love to see a boy struggling, helpless, hooded, gagged, suffering."
He crossed his legs. "So far we've kept you horny with those shorts, we've teased you and edged you, used leather hoods on you and the feel of the bikers' gear, and restraints and helplessness to make you associate those things with the urgent need to cum. And it's been very effective indeed. Even just being restrained, with nothing else being done to you, makes you hard in seconds – although you still struggle and fight delightfully. That's all fine. But there's one thing that we need to develop still more."
Abrahams leaned forward in the chair. "Frustration. Yes, those leather teasing shorts have kept you horny, but we want you even more frustrated than that. And to do that we're going to keep you horny without using the shorts. To do that we're going to use the fact that you resent us. That you hate us. That you both hate and love what we do to you. You've had one punishment session so far. But that was when you were very horny, and with an orgasm that you enjoyed a great deal – if not the tickle torture that came straight after it. With future punishments you will not have the help either of being horny, or of an orgasm. Quite the reverse, in fact."
Abrahams grinned. "We're going to get you horny with the videos and the games, and in other ways too, but we're also going to force you not to let yourself cum even though you're perfectly free to do so. You'll be able to wank yourself off whenever you want to." He raised a finger. "But here's the thing – and you must understand this very clearly indeed, Jamie: if at any time you do make yourself cum, you will be taken immediately to the tickling room and tortured. And I mean tortured . You won't be in the least bit horny, and you'll just have had an orgasm so you'll be hypersensitive. And it won't just be for five minutes this time, either."
He stood up. The grin on his face was now pure evil. "Someone will be along soon to remove your shorts. I wonder how long you'll last, Jamie. Just remember – don't allow yourself to cum or we will torture you out of your mind."
It felt strange to be naked in his room. He'd got used to the weight of the shorts, and although the rubber spikes had driven him to distraction, he kind of missed them – it felt good to be horny all the time. He remembered watching that boy Phil fighting to stop Axel from making him lose it, using the sports shorts that turned him on so irresistibly. He was in a similar situation to that now, except that he was going to have to fight with himself not to give in and wank himself off. His next milking was five days away, and the unfair fuckers would undoubtedly use the very things that turned him on most to make him lose it before then. He groaned; he hated to admit it, but he found that thought disturbingly sexy.
Since the guard had taken the shorts, Jamie had been lying on the bed. His cock was soft and he was bored. In the absence of anything else to do he fired up the Xbox and played the tickling game for a while, but stopped when he realised he was already getting dangerously horny. He switched it off. "Nope – must not get horny."
The TV came on. More porn videos. He watched for a while then closed his eyes so that he couldn't see them. But there was sound with them now, and the volume increased. The room was filled with boys screaming in ticklishness, or struggling and swearing while muscular guys wrestled them to the ground and held them helpless with their shiny leatherclad arms and booted legs, or the yells of pleasure as boys were brought to slow, carefully-controlled, intense orgasms.
Then the video of Jamie's chloroformed milking came on.
Jamie squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his ears, but it made little difference. His cock was hard and demanding release. "No! I fucking WON'T!"
How he got through the next hour without wanking himself senseless he had no idea.
Abrahams appeared in his room later. If the man was disappointed that Jamie hadn't broken, he didn't show it. "I have another story for you to do a report on, like last time. I'll come by to pick it up in three hours. Please make sure you've finished it by then, or you'll have another appointment with Alan. Do it here at the desk please, where we can keep an eye on you." He smiled unpleasantly, then went away.
Jamie dragged himself over to the desk, sat down and pulled the chair up. The leather seat was cold on his bare skin. He looked at the book – this one was just a single story, and not very long. It described the kidnapping of a boy. The lad was taken to a dungeon where he was tickled and edged.
The thought of kidnapping made Jamie's cock jerk. He picked up the pen.
He dropped it in surprise – there'd been a mechanical clunk, and he'd felt the chair move slightly. Frowning, he tried to push it back to have a look, but he found that it was locked in place. A whirring came from beneath the desk as something went between his knees and slowly pushed them apart. He couldn't get out of the chair, and the desk was too close to his stomach for him to be able to reach under it to find out what was going on.
What the fuck? Nothing else happened, and there was little he could do about it anyway, so he sighed and got started on the story.
The kidnapping was horny – the description of the masked, leather-clad guys getting the boy helpless and into the van were graphic and detailed. Once inside the van they held him helpless while a complicated, specially-made, heavy leather hood was forced over his struggling head and strapped tightly in place. The hood had many cunning features designed to make the victim feel controlled, and the function and effect of each one was described in meticulous detail. The kidnappers took a very round-about route, kept playing with him to break his concentration on where the van was going, and used lots of other interesting tricks to keep him disorientated and frustrated. Jamie's cock was straining between his legs.
He'd just started the second chapter when he almost jumped out of his skin as something touched his cock. It felt like a feather – very soft, very light. It traced up and down the shaft, and then explored his hairless balls. He tried to close his knees together to stop it, but whatever the things were that had separated them, they were keeping his legs apart.
Either the bastards had cut a hole in the wall or they were remote-controlling this somehow. He swore, but he knew that he had to finish the story or he'd get taken to see Alan again. He really wished he could have some time with that sexy skinhead boy that was not about being fucking tortured. He sighed and forced himself to continue with his work.
The feather was back on his cock. It tickled and teased up and down, and then moved to the head.
The story had got him as horny as fuck, and this feather had been making it worse. But now it was on his cock head, tickling the glans. It made him need to cum very badly indeed.
He gasped as the edge of the soft feather flicked over his most sensitive spot, right at the tip. Oh fuck, If it carried on doing that it would make him lose it.
But it didn't. It only stroked over the tip every now and then – the rest of the time it worked on the shaft, the glans, and his balls.
He could not concentrate; he'd read the same sentence three times so far. Every time he started to write, the feather touched his cock tip and made him completely forget what he was doing.
It continued like this for some time.
Eventually the feather stopped, the knee-spreaders retracted and the chair unlocked. He pushed back from the desk and his hand jerked towards his aching cock but, with a huge effort of will, he forced himself not to touch it.
The door opened and Abrahams was back. "Finished?"
Jamie was breathing hard. "No. You made fucking sure I wouldn't finish it, didn't you?"
Abrahams just laughed quietly. He raised his eyebrows. "Did we tie your hands? Did the pen not work? You were perfectly free to write." He picked up the few notes Jamie had done and looked them over, shaking his head in disapproval. "This is far from complete. I told you that if it wasn't finished, you would be punished. Someone will come for you shortly and take you to see Alan."
Jamie swore and broke the pen in two.
The punishment had been bad. Alan had concentrated on the boy's armpits, sides, and the soles of his feet. But, unbearable and excruciating as it had been, it still hadn't made him need to cum any less. For some reason he hadn't been hooded this time, and watching the good-looking blond skinhead in his tight, bulging bleachers working on him had just made everything worse.
Jamie lay on the bed in his room naked, every muscle aching from struggling and with a throat sore from screaming and begging Alan to stop, but no less horny than he had been before he'd been taken there.
As he lay on the leather bed, propped up by the leather pillow, he badly needed to touch his aching cock, but although he couldn't see them, he knew there were CCTV cameras all over this room. If he made himself cum the perverts would know. He would not give the bastards that satisfaction.
But he was so fucking horny . It wasn't fair. He got off the bed and sat in the chair. The TV started up and showed him videos of a boy being tickled by two masked guys. The first was using a feather to tickle his balls, the second was using one on his cock.
Jamie whimpered. He didn't know whether he wanted to be the victim in that video, or the guys using the feathers on him. He was so horny right now that he wanted to be all of them. Mesmerised, he watched the boy being tickled – and before he could stop himself he was jerking his cock, and spunk was shooting everywhere.
Abrahams must have known that he would break, because within seconds the door burst open and the two guards grabbed him. They dragged him to the tickling room where Alan was waiting. On the way they passed the doctor in the corridor. He was smiling in smug satisfaction.
Standing by the tickling frame, Alan had a huge erection in his tight jeans, and he was smiling, too.
* * *
The punishment was the worst yet. Jamie had just cum, and his body was ultra-sensitive. He writhed in his restraints and screamed hysterically as Alan's fingers found every one of his most defenceless spots and worked on them hard. It was the absolute opposite of light, erotic tickling.
* * *
At last it was over. He was back in his room, exhausted, hoarse, and not in the least bit horny.
That didn't last for long, though – with nothing else to do he fired the Xbox up and took his fury out on the cute young victim in the tickling game. Before very soon Jamie's cock was hard again. After an hour he switched to 'Leatherboy' and constructed a new vision of sex. Heavy bike boots; tight black leather jeans with a big, clearly-defined bulge; a studded belt; leather biker jacket with the collar turned up; heavy, tight, leather gauntlets; studded wristbands; and a black leather mask. He pressed the animate key and sat back, watching the way the light reflected off the creases in the shiny leather as the boy walked about. Oh fuck, that was so sexy. Jamie needed to cum again.
A little later Aaron and Darren came in. They smiled at him through their leather masks. Jamie suddenly realised that his creation on the Leatherboy game had been Aaron.
Darren stood behind him, grabbed the boy's arms and held them behind the back of the chair, while Aaron parted Jamie's knees and stood between them. The feel of the biker's cold leather jeans on the insides of his legs made Jamie gasp. "It's our little cocky boy. The one with the sensitive end."
Oh shit, thought Jamie, that biker's voice was so fucking sexy .
Aaron leaned forward, raised one leather-gloved hand with the finger and thumb close together, and made the same opening-and-closing movement that he had done before. His finger and thumb never got further than a quarter-inch apart.
Jamie felt a wave of need go through him. He'd never yet been allowed to experience being made to cum by Aaron doing that and he wanted it more than anything in the entire fucking world.
The biker straightened up, and looked around the room. He pulled a single sheet of tissue from the box by the bed, returned to stand between Jamie's legs, held the tissue up and very carefully tore a small strip off that was about 2 inches long and half an inch wide. He threw away the rest of the tissue and held the strip at one end. His leather jeans creaked as he crouched down.
Jamie's cock was standing up vertically. Aaron carefully held the base of it to keep it still, then very slowly lowered his hand until the free end of the strip was less than a quarter of an inch away from the end of Jamie's cock.
The boy was watching it, hypnotised.
Slowly the biker lowered the strip and stroked the end just once, directly over the urethra of the boy's cock.
Jamie let out a yell of lust and struggled in Darren's grip, but the leather arms held him tighter.
"You like that, don't you… Oh, you let yourself go every time I milk you, Jamie. You really do. You thrust and writhe and the spunk pumps out of your cock while I do this – " he made the motion again with his thumb and finger, "just on the very tip of your cock. That really makes you lose it, doesn't it? You cum and cum all over my smooth, slippery leather gauntlets."
He dragged the end of the tissue over the hard cock again.
Jamie convulsed. Just one more stroke like that would do it.
But Aaron waited until the boy had backed off from the edge. "Do you want to cum? Do you want me to do that now? Make you cum?"
The tissue stroked once more. "I could do this all day. Drive you insane. He made the motion again. "Imagine what those fingers would feel like on your cock, just doing that."
Jamie was delirious. Oh fuck he needed to CUM!
Aaron stood up, and Darren released Jamie's arms. The boy's hand shot towards his cock, but again he stopped it. "NO! Fuckers! I know what you're trying to do! I will NOT cum!"
Aaron's brown eyes smiled.
Jamie wondered what the biker looked like. He just knew that he was fucking gorgeous under that leather mask.
Aaron shrugged. "Ok. No problem." He ran a gloved hand teasingly over the boy's thigh, then they turned and left.
The TV came on. A boy being wanked hard and fast by a leather-gloved hand.
Jamie moaned in frustration.
"A bit of exercise for you today, Jamie," said Abrahams. "You're going to the gym."
Jamie was taken to a different part of the complex this time: a large space filled with exercise machines, weights, and pads on the floor. About a dozen boys were using the equipment or doing Taekwondo on the mats. This was the first time he'd seen any other inmates since he'd been here, and the oldest ones looked to be about or eighteen or nineteen. Every one of the boys was wearing shorts that appeared to be identical to the ones with the rubber spikes. They were moaning as they exercised – and wearing those things, Jamie could understand why. His own shorts had been taken off and he was the only one who was completely naked.
The guards led him to one of the floor mats. "You're gonna do some wrestling. Wait here."
Wrestling? He'd never wrestled in his life.
A minute later a muscular boy stepped onto the mat. He was wearing exactly the same gear as Jamie's creation in the Xbox game – right down to the studded belt around his tight leather jeans and the upturned collar of his black leather jacket. The jacket was open enough to show the tops of some beautiful pecs.
Jamie groaned.
"This is Damien," said the guard. "You're going to be wrestling him today."
"But he's older and bigger and stronger than me. And I'm naked – he's in leathers. That's not fair!" He protested.
The guard laughed. "No, it's not, is it…" He stepped off the mat. "Begin."
Jamie's cock had risen to full erection the moment he'd seen the boy. They circled each other, then Damien grabbed Jamie, forced him to the ground, and sat astride his chest, pinning his arms to the floor under his shiny leather jeans.
Damien grinned down at him. "You're not very good at this, are you? Ok, I'll go easy on you."
They stood up again. Jamie didn't know the first thing about wrestling, but he had to do something, so he reached out and grabbed the boy's right arm, and got it behind his back. Damien let him. Then he spun around and pulled Jamie close to his body in a bear-hug.
As he did so, Jamie's cock was pushed in between the boy's thighs. For a brief moment there was leather touching all the front of his body, leather arms behind him, his face was pushed into the upturned collar of the leather jacket and there was leather enclosing his hard cock. It was only for a moment, but it was more than enough. Jamie shuddered and came, his spunk landing all over Damien's leather legs.
The guards laughed, then took Jamie to see Alan again.
It had been five days since the wrestling and the ensuing punishment. He hadn't cum since then, and he'd been in the teasing shorts all the fucking time. For a horny teenager this is not sustainable. His balls felt so heavy – they ached with the need to cum – and it had been almost impossible to get to sleep for the last five nights.
The door opened. "You've been summoned to the office," the guard told him. "Follow me."
The same guy was sat behind his desk again, as he had been on the day Jamie had arrived here.
"Jamie. Good to see you again. Sit."
Jamie sat.
"You've finished all the tests, the orientation and the training. We can control you very effectively now. We know exactly how to make you do whatever we want you to, and we know how to punish you in the way that is the most unbearable to you. With a single finger tip we can make you cum, make you beg, or make you scream."
Jamie felt extremely humiliated, but the fact was that this bastard was correct. He forced himself to stay silent.
"Now, a facility like this is expensive to run. Have you ever wondered where the cash comes from? No, I don't suppose you have. Well, I'll tell you. There are many guys in the world who admire boys like you. Many who want to give them pleasure, and many who want to make them suffer.
"We offer a service here. Every one of our boys has a file, and in this file is listed everything about him: his weaknesses, his turn-ons, his triggers, his fetishes – everything." He held up a folder. "This is your file, Jamie. A client looks through all the files, and chooses the boy he fancies the most, and whom he thinks would be the most compatible with his own fetishes and turn-ons. Then he books a day here to play with that boy. He is free to do whatever he wants with him – or to him. Of course we keep constant supervision, and the client is not permitted to hurt the boy in any way. All our facilities are at his disposal," he gave Jamie a meaningful stare, "including the torture rooms. Of course the cost of a service like this is high, but this facility requires a great deal of money to run and there are many, many guys willing and able to pay." He smiled. "Here," he passed Jamie his file, "have a read."
Jamie's eyes gradually widened. The further he read, the more he felt used, defenceless, and unbelievably vulnerable. Everything was in here, including things that he hadn't even guessed they knew about him. There were even things he hadn't known about himself , for fuck sake. He swallowed, and closed the file. From just reading that, his cock was rock-hard.
"You see? The client will study every word of that carefully, and will know exactly how to control you. How to turn you on, how to extract your spunk whether you want him to or not, how to make you squirm and beg, how to make you suffer.
"The reason you're here to see me today is that a client has booked a day with you. Tomorrow. Now don't worry, all you need to do is just be yourself. Good luck." He nodded at the guard, who pulled Jamie to his feet and led him away.
Jamie didn't get much sleep that night – partly from worrying about tomorrow, partly because he still hadn't cum – in a few hours it would be six days since his last milking – and partly because the shorts were teasing and tickling his cock everywhere but the one spot he wanted them to.
The guards came for him, removed his shorts, and took him to a private suite. The room had assorted equipment in it – including, he saw with horror, a tickling frame.
When the client appeared he was masked and, Jamie was not surprised to see, in full black leather. He got the impression that the guy was quite a bit older than the rest of people here, but even so he looked to be in good shape.
"Oh fuck. You are beautiful," the guy said as he walked around Jamie, inspecting him. "A cute, horny boy who hasn't cum for six days. Oh fuck yes ." The bulge at the guy's crotch was rapidly getting larger.
"I'm Colin, and I'm going to tease you very slowly all over your fit young body, Jamie, until you're begging me to let you cum. But I'm not going to let you cum. Oooh no. Not for a very, very long time. I've read your file very carefully indeed – especially the part about the tip of your cock. That is perfect. Mine is just like that, too – it's one of the main reasons I chose you. It's going to be so easy to control you. So easy to make you suffer.
He turned Jamie so that the boy was facing away from him, and pulled him close to his body. "You feel that, Jamie? Black leather . One of your biggest weaknesses, isn't it… Apart from being tickle tortured, that is." He chuckled. "I'm going to use a lot of black leather on you before today is over."
* * *
At first Jamie resisted everything the guy did to him, but there were two problems with that: first, his struggling, swearing and fighting seemed to turn Colin on; and second, it turned Jamie on. So he kept on doing it.
Jamie started to tremble when Colin put him onto the tickling frame – it was identical to the one Alan tortured him on during the punishment sessions – but Colin didn't torture him. He stroked the boy all over his body slowly and sensuously. Oh, Jamie spent most of the time laughing hysterically or screaming for him to stop, but the way he was doing it was still turning the boy on. Colin must have read the file very thoroughly indeed, because he used a strip of tissue paper just like Aaron had done to stroke over Jamie's cock-tip now and then. Just often enough to keep him desperate to cum.
Colin was skilled. Jamie had no idea where he'd got those skills, but the guy used them on him for the entire day. There was no punishment tickling, but Jamie suffered every bit as much. His balls had already been blue before the day had begun, but now the spunk in them was bursting to be released. And apart from what Colin was doing to him, every touch of the guy's leather jacket or jeans on his naked skin made it worse.
Feathers caressed his armpits unbearably, stroked over his body and legs, along his cock, around his balls; soft leather fingertips tickled the soles of his feet; they lightly teased the backs of his knees, traced slowly up the insides of his thighs; and always, every few minutes, used the strip of tissue to tickle the very tip of his cock.
Jamie thought he was going to explode. Every time he begged to be allowed to cum, Colin groaned in satisfaction and squeezed his bulging cock through his leathers. The guy had three orgasms over the course of the day: the first time by accident – he creamed his jeans at the boy's reactions while he was tickling the inside walls of Jamie's urethra with a very soft, pointed, camel-hair paintbrush; the second time he wanked himself off so that his spunk landed on Jamie's chest and stomach; and the third time was when he made the boy suck him off.
When there was only five minutes to go before the end of the booked day, Colin pulled on a pair of tight leather gloves, and milked him.
Spunk exploded out of Jamie's cock and he convulsed in his restraints. He came and came and came.
Abrahams looked pleased. "You're doing very well, Jamie. You're our star boy. Every one of the clients who have been with you has been delighted – and you've got more bookings. We're making some money out of you, my boy, and we're going to make a lot more." He picked up the teasing shorts. "Now, put those back on. You have a few days' rest. Build that spunk up in your balls. We have some nice new videos for you to watch."
After locking the shorts onto him, Abrahams left.
As they always did, the shorts quickly made sure that he got fully hard and stayed that way.
He played some games, and got hornier still. A guard came in at some point to bring him dinner. He put the tray down, and made Jamie kneel in front of him. "Lick my jeans," he ordered.
None of the guards had ever made Jamie do that before, but he looked at the guy's legs and immediately fell to his knees. He knew that the guards were not permitted to get their cocks out when they were with an inmate, so he put his arms around him and licked the prominent leather bulge. Oh, that felt good. He explored it with his tongue – the front, the top, under it, and around the sides. It continued to get bigger, and as it did so the cock inside formed a separate bulge above the guy's balls, stretching the black leather out. Jamie licked it and scratched the head with his teeth. He brought a hand around and squeezed the shaft with his fingers at the same time.
The guard grunted and rammed the boy's head into his crotch. "Faster! Harder!" He was thrusting his hips.
Jamie applied more pressure to the solid cock and speeded up the work on the head.
The guard's knees wobbled, and he almost fell over as he came. When he'd recovered he ruffled the boy's blond hair. "Nice."
As the guy left, Jamie looked up, frowning. The door to his room was always kept locked – but he hadn't heard the familiar click this time. He waited as long as he could, then decided to try it. He hoped they weren't watching him, but he thought there was no reason why they should be at the moment. He turned the handle and pulled. It opened.
* * *
He knew many parts of the complex by now, but he'd never seen outside it. He also had no idea where the doors to freedom were. Silently, on bare feet, he padded down the corridor and headed for the kitchens – he knew where they were, and surely there must be a door there for delivering food.
He was worried he might have to hide quickly if he saw someone, but happily there was nobody about as he made his way along the grey corridors.
In the kitchen there was indeed a door to outside – and it opened! As quietly as he could he went out, closing it carefully behind him. The first thing that struck him was the heat and the humidity: it was tropical. He wondered where the hell this place was.
A stretch of lawn led to the edge of what appeared to be a dense forest. He ran to the cover of the trees. Running while wearing the shorts was not a good idea – the little rubber spikes were going crazy inside the metal front. But he gritted his teeth and continued into the relative darkness.
He could hear the sound of an ocean somewhere not far away. The forest floor was mainly soft with last year's leaves, but being barefoot he had to keep an eye out for sharp stones and twigs. He headed towards the sound of the sea.
Suddenly the air was rent with the urgent wail of alarms from the building. They'd realised he was missing. He froze and looked round desperately. Where the fuck could he go to hide?
Very slowly, so as not to excite the rubber spikes too much, he padded forwards, a bit further into the trees. The spikes tickled his cock.
He froze again at the sound of voices not far away.
"You two – go right. You, with me."
There were footsteps in the forest behind him.
Pressing himself against the trunk of a tree, he squinted through the low branches. A couple of times he saw guards pass, but they didn't seem to be coming in his direction.
He stayed where he was, all his senses on high alert, listening to the occasional twig cracking underfoot as the guards combed the forest around him, but he could no longer see any of them.
Then a man came into view; he stood on the lawn for a moment searching the tree line, then started walking directly towards Jamie. The boy knew that if he stayed where he was, he'd be found.
Jamie looked around desperately for somewhere better to hide. There was a large bush a few yards away – and it had a bit of a hollow centre. He reckoned that if he could squeeze in there and pull the leaves closed behind him, they would just about cover him completely. He'd wait there until the guards gave up and then he'd go towards the sound of the sea and try to find a way to get out of here.
He crouched down and began to shuffle forwards as silently as he could towards the bush, his cock still rock-hard thanks to the damned shorts.
He had no idea what caused it – whether it had been the running over the lawn, the crouching, or the shuffling forwards that had dislodged one of them – but just then a single spike slipped leisurely over the very tip of his cock.
The soft rubber prong stroked slowly, directly over his urethra, and slipped off the other side. An intense spike of lust crashed through him and a loud, involuntary groan of need escaped his lips. It had been impossible for him to stop it.
"OVER HERE!" They'd heard him.
The footsteps quickly closed in and a few seconds later he was surrounded by combat boots. Above the SWAT-type uniforms, eyes were gazing down at him through black balaclavas.
The guards dragged him – kicking, yelling, and cursing those fucking shorts – back to the facility.
The guy behind the desk – he'd learned that his name was Mr. Michaels – looked at him.
"Why did you try to escape, Jamie? Where did you think you would go?" He considered for a moment, then stood up. "Come with me." He led Jamie out of the office, down a short corridor and into a small lift. The doors closed and the lift went up.
Jamie gasped: they were stood in a small, circular, concrete observation tower. The complex was beneath them, and in every direction Jamie looked, all he could see were trees – and beyond the trees, ocean.
"We are on a very small island in the absolute middle of nowhere. You see, there was nowhere at all for you to go unless you can swim two hundred miles. This used to be a fort, but we did a little… remodelling."
Jamie watched the sun setting over the tropical blue sea.
Michaels turned to him. "Why did you want to escape, Jamie?"
He opened his mouth to shout, 'because you're all perverts!' But he didn't. Instead he closed it again. He was silent for a while. He shook his head. "I don't really know. I suppose it was a reflex."
Michaels looked into the boy's eyes. "Imagine you're back home in England, Jamie. You spend all day dossing around doing nothing, and at night you sleep rough on cardboard in back alleys. You have a wank, you go to sleep, and you do it all again next day. How does that compare to being here?"
Jamie said nothing. He hated to admit it, but the man was right. After a long while, he nodded. "I suppose so," he said at last, quietly.
"Yes, you're making us money. But you get to experience sex of a variety and an intensity that most other boys can only dream of – if they could even imagine it in the first place."
Jamie tried to image being back in London now. How would he feel? Would he miss his life here? Being strapped down, teased, edged, with leather and sexy bikers and horny skinheads? Yes he fucking would.
He looked up at Michaels, and sighed. "You're right."
The man thought for a moment. "Ok. Well, you're not going anywhere, Jamie. We're going to continue keeping you horny, strapping you down, making you need to cum. Bikers in leather and skinheads in tight jeans are going to continue working on you, torturing you, and milking you. You are going to continue making us a great deal of cash, boy, with our clients. There is nothing you can do about any of this. As you should be aware by now, you can fight us but you can't win. We have the means to control you utterly – and we enjoy doing it."
Michaels paused, and then a slight smile appeared on his lips. "But, I think we can make one or two changes. How about if I instruct Dr Abrahams not to put you to sleep before you're milked by Aaron every week? If we only use knocking you out as a punishment? All the other times you'll be awake to enjoy it. And talking of Aaron, I understand that you particularly like him. I know that he likes you – a lot. How about if I arranged for you to have some private time with him now and again, as a reward, if you're a good boy?"
Jamie blinked. Aaron liked him a lot? Really? He started to breathe hard. The thought of actually experiencing being milked by Aaron was the one thing he wanted more than anything else – and the possibility of some one-on-one time with the unbelievably sexy biker was more than he could have wished for in his wildest dreams.
"That –" Jamie swallowed. "That would be perfect, sir," he said. "Thank you."
"Ok. And as you've seen most of the complex now, and you know about it, there seems little point in keeping your door locked. You may explore the facility if you like. And you may even go for walks outside on the island if you're accompanied by a guard. But," he pointed a finger at the boy, "with privilege there comes responsibility. Any infractions of the rules or bad behaviour and those privileges can be revoked very quickly, and permanently – and there is still the torture room. You understand?"
Jamie nodded. "I understand, sir."
After a pause, Michaels smiled properly. "All right then. Now, I was intending to send you to Alan for a particularly severe punishment, but in view of our new agreement, I'm going to reward you instead."
Michaels took Jamie down in the lift again.
When Jamie got back to his room the guards were waiting for him. They took him to the milking room and secured him to the table. Unlike last time, though, he was strapped down on his back, his legs bent so that his knees were almost touching his chest and his feet restrained to a horizontal post higher up. His cock had been pushed back between his thighs.
This time Dr Abrahams was absent.
Aaron and Darren stood each side of the table. "Kneeling with your cock pushed back seemed to be very effective on you," smiled Aaron, "so we think this position might be even more difficult for you to deal with."
Jamie groaned. He watched the two bikers as Darren began to stroke his gloved hands over the boy's body, occasionally gagging him and letting Jamie lick the leather gauntlet or suck one of the fingers, while Aaron started to play with the desperately hard cock. They edged the boy for over an hour, their eyes smiling sadistically through the holes in the leather masks. Jamie was hoarse with begging by the end of it, as he always was. His thighs were fairly close together because of the position of his feet, fastened a few inches apart above him, and his cock had naturally stayed where it was while Aaron had been working on it, but now the biker slid a leather-gauntleted hand along Jamie's stomach and thrust it between the tops of his thighs to force the cock even further back. He held it there in a vice-like grip.
Then Darren lubed a gloved middle finger and inserted it slowly into Jamie's arsehole.
The boy gasped as the cool leather gauntlet went between his legs, the fingers curling into the creases at the sides of his balls, and then he gasped again as Darren's finger went in. The bikers' leather hands holding him and invading him at the same time felt so fucking horny he could scream.
Aaron's lubed finger and thumb made gentle contact with the head – the first time it had been touched at all this session.
The boy closed his eyes and moaned.
Slowly, Aaron began to stroke the very tip.
Oh fuck fuck fuck! Jamie's eyes were shut tight and his face was scrunched up – he was so close to cumming he could taste it.
But Aaron didn't let him cum immediately. One gauntleted hand was holding Jamie's cock immobile, sticking out horizontally behind him, and the other was teasing the very tip, stopping frequently, keeping Jamie a hair's breadth away from orgasm. The biker had worked on this cock so many times now that he could control the boy with exquisite precision.
Jamie was beside himself with the need to cum – it was so bad that he just knew that he was going to go completely insane.
At last Aaron said, "gonna make you cum , boy." This time, he didn't stop. Using exactly the same finger-and-thumb motion that he always did, right on the very tip of the boy's cock, he pushed him over the edge.
Jamie felt the point of no return approach – and then it was here.
It started…
He felt his spunk rush through the tubes inside him and barrel out of his cock. He felt it punching its way up the shaft, through the urethra, past the two little bumps, and coating the irresistibly milking leather fingers, making them even more slippery. Those fingers, centred and pressing as they were directly on the urethra, caused the force of the spunk bursting past that supremely sensitive spot to make his ejaculation even more intense. And every contraction of his sphincter gripped the leather finger in his arse, and completed the bikers' total control of the boy.
Jamie was holding his breath, his entire body convulsing in the tight restraints as his muscles ejected his spunk uncontrollably. It was the most intense orgasm he'd ever had, his cock bucking and jerking in the tight grip of the gloved hand between his thighs – those thighs squeezing and releasing the leather gauntlet between them rhythmically and madly. As he came, he was staring with wide eyes at the gorgeous, sexy, hot, hot, hot masked leather biker who was milking him. He eventually gave voice to a long, animal scream of ecstasy.
Fuck, he had never ever cum like that before. It had been off the fucking scale .
Aaron leaned over him. He took the boy's head in his hands, and then he slowly kissed Jamie through the leather mask.
Jamie stared into the biker's beautiful brown eyes as he melted into the kiss.
Things could not get better than this.
* * *
Jamie had gone back to his room – without being escorted this time – and, as instructed, had locked the shorts back on. An hour later the inescapable videos came back on, and they'd been working on him for six hours. Even after that incredible milking, they had had got him as horny as fuck again quickly.
Abrahams was on the TV. It was clear that the man didn't approve of the new arrangements. He no longer made any pretence of hiding his sadism. "We've made a slight adjustment to your shorts, Jamie boy." He held up a small black box. "I have a box here, and there's a little button on it. See what happens when I press it."
Jamie threw his head back and gasped. Just like out in the forest when it had forced him to give his position away, something inside the shorts had slid across the very tip of his cock. But this time, though, it wasn't an accidentally-misplaced rubber prong – it was a device purpose-designed by the good doctor to be as devastatingly effective on him as possible. It sent an unbearably intense spike of need through him.
"I can do that to you whenever I want." Abrahams was practically salivating. "I hope I remember never to do it more than once at a time, though – because you know what will happen to you if you cum." His expression became sour. "You may have fewer restrictions than before your little chat to Mr Michaels, but it is still my job to keep you as horny as fuck – and if you cum you will be meeting Alan again. And I've had a quiet word with him. I think you'll find that he will not be so gentle with you from now on." He gave Jamie a particularly evil smile. "Now, why don't you watch some nice television? Or play a game? A little later you can try wrestling that hunky leatherboy Damien again."
Jamie fumed. Oh fuck he hated that man. He lay on the bed and tried to clear his mind. After a long time his cock began to think about softening.
The new device inside the shorts moved.
Jamie yelled and grabbed the metal front. In spite of the new privileges he was as fucking helpless against these people as ever.
He yelled at the ceiling. "FUUUUUCK!"
* * *
He was allowed to go outside now, if he was accompanied by a guard, so he went and found one. They walked along the tree line, then through the forest to the sea. The edge of the land fell precipitously into the foaming water beneath, and Jamie sat down on a large rock. The guard found another one.
Jamie stared out across the ocean for a long time. In the distance a couple of palm trees swayed gently by the blue water. He thought about what had happened to him over the past months.
He had been abducted and held against his will in the middle of nowhere, in a facility purpose-made for the sexual torture of teenage boys. He was forced on a daily basis to undergo the most perverted and disgusting things at the hands of perverts, and he seemed to have become the pet plaything of – and to receive special treatment from – the sadistic resident doctor. His fit teenage body, his cute good looks, and his greatest weaknesses were also used to make the bastards money.
His eyes travelled to the masked guard on the other rock. Jamie licked his lips. That guard's leather was hypnotic.
As his cock stiffened inside the shorts he felt the little rubber spikes get to work on him. The leather of the guard's jeans was stretched tight above his combat boots, darker creases behind the knees and around the crotch, and bright highlights on the tops of his thighs and bulge. The bulge was big and round, and the shape of the guy's soft cock was just visible under the shiny leather.
He slid off the rock, knelt between the guard's legs and stroked his fingertips over the black hide. The guard looked down at him.
He took the bulge between his teeth and worked on it. It began to grow immediately. He closed his eyes, smelling and feeling the black leather lovingly. He went to work on the bulge in front of him.
Abducted, detained against his will, tortured, his weaknesses nurtured so that they could be used against him, pimped out to guys whose faces he was never permitted to see.
It was disgusting. They were perverts.
He smiled.
And all of that was perfectly fine with him.