Andrew looked up from his book and raised his eyebrows as Jim came down the stairs and into the living room. “I see you’ve pulled out all the stops tonight.”
Jim grinned. “Yes Sir. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
Andrew nodded slowly. Jim looked gorgeous; he was wearing skin-tight faded jeans (very obviously with nothing on underneath), a studded belt, combat boots, and his leather jacket.
Jim had been Andrew’s slave for the best part of four years. In the early days it had been a usual Master/Slave sort of thing: Andrew had imposed strict rules - including that Jim wasn’t allowed to sit on the furniture, and that he had to be wearing a collar at all times – but inevitably, over time, things had gradually changed.
“So where are you off to?”
“The Black Knight.”
Andrew nodded again. The Black Knight was a brand-new club in town – it had only just opened, and it was supposed to be the place for picking up hot leather guys.
“You meeting someone there?”
“Yes Sir. Boy called Martin,” grinned Jim. “Oh fuck he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Nineteen, athletic, slim, blue eyes and the most beautiful cock-sucking lips you’ve ever seen.”
Jim surfed the websites daily, and every weekend he arranged to meet a different boy of his dreams.
“Uh-huh. When you meeting him?”
“Seven, Sir.”
Andrew glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty. He turned the page of his book. “Well, have a great time.”
“Thank you Sir!”
Jim was halfway out of the door when, without looking up from his book, Andrew said: “On second thoughts, get the handcuffs.”
“Wha-? No! Please Sir!”
Andrew looked up. “Now.”
Jim looked as if he was about to cry. He swallowed. “Yes, Sir.” He turned and climbed the stairs.
* * *
“Turn around.” Andrew cuffed Jim’s wrists behind his back, then sat him across his knees and tied his ankles together tightly with a rope. “When was the last time you came?”
“Last Saturday, Sir.”
Seven days. Andrew smiled to himself. “So it’s going to be difficult for you then...”
“Ohplease, Sir. Don’t.”
He smiled again as he saw that the boy was already rock-hard in his tight jeans. Gently, he ran his fingertips along the bulging shaft. He felt the cock jerk under the skintight, thin denim. Andrew knew every one of Jim’s turn-ons intimately.
He teased the rock-hard bulge of the boy’s cock, feeling it respond to every little movement of his fingers. “Mmm. You like having your cock worked on through jeans, don’t you… Especially just there... “He stroked a single fingertip over the ridge.
Jim’s eyes were screwed tightly shut in concentration as he willed himself not to get close – and not under any circumstances, to cum.
“Hard, horny boy-cock under skintight jeans...” He caressed the entire length lightly. “Can’t get your hands to it, can you… Can’t stop me...”
Andrew knew that although this was getting the boy incredibly horny, it was not going to make him cum, but he wasn’t worried. His fingers moved slowly up to the head of the horny boy’s cock. Jim was uncut, and the head was very sensitive. Lightly, his fingertips teased around the end. “And then there’s the head...”
“No! Please Sir, not there...”
Andrew laughed quietly. He pinched and rolled the thin denim between his finger and thumb, just beyond the end of the cock head, the sides of his fingers grazing the very tip and causing the stretchy jeans to slide and rub over the glans. “I could make those tight, sexy jeans milk you, boy...”
Jim was moaning and beginning to struggle in the handcuffs.
Andrew pushed his other hand up under his leather jacket, found a nipple, and began to squeeze it slowly through his tee shirt. Another of the boy’s weaknesses.
“No! Please Sir! If you do that I’ll cum!”
“Will you? So don’t let yourself cum. It’s up to you. Stop yourself. Save it for Martin...” He gripped the bulging cock firmly now, his hand sliding along its full length, pulling the stretchy denim slowly up and down with it. “But you can’t fight it, can you...”
“Please! SIR! Noooooooooo!”
Suddenly Andrew’s hand speeded up; he milked the boy hard and fast, and rolled the nipple between his fingers.
Jim came - the bulge in his faded jeans jerking madly under Andrew’s irresistibly milking hand. The boy’s body bounced up and down as his cock pumped his spunk helplessly into his tight, faded jeans.
When Jim had recovered, Andrew lifted him off his knees, untied the rope and released the handcuffs.
The enormous spunk stain was wet and already beginning to get cold. The bastard. He’d been saving himself all fucking week and the cunt had made him cum just before he was due to meet the boy of his dreams. What the fuck was he going to do now?
Even as those thoughts passed through his mind, his cock was beginning to get hard again. He’d really been trying not to let himself cum – he really had - but he’d been helpless to stop himself. Oh well, he had time – just – to put his other jeans on. He wouldn’t have as much spunk for Martin but he would still manage. Already his cock was half-hard again.
“No,” said Andrew slowly, looking down at the denim bulge. The boy wasn’t completely drained yet. “Take your jeans down.”
“Sir?”
“Take them down.”
Frowning, Jim did as he was ordered.
Andrew reached behind his chair and produced wrist and ankle cuffs. He buckled them onto the boy and secured him in a tight hog-tie on the carpet. Then, to Jim’s horror, he picked up a pair of shiny black leather jeans. Andrew held them up for the boy to see, then knelt down over him, brandishing them like a weapon.
“Oh no. No. No, Sir. Please. Not leather. Please. Don’t use those on me...” His cock jerked back to full erection just at the sight of the shiny black leather.
Andrew forced one the cold leather legs between the boy’s thighs right at the top, gripped the now fully-hard cock through it and began to wank him off, his thumb rubbing over the frenulum through the leather with each stroke. With his free hand he clamped the other shiny leg down tightly over the struggling boy’s eyes and mouth.
Jim was doing everything he could to get away but the hog-tie held him helpless. He knew that if he came again he would be useless tonight. But the black leather was pressing tight over his face. He found himself licking it, and he could feel it between his thighs and around his cock as the bastard Andrew used the leather jeans to make him lose control for the second time.
“Don’t cum, boy. Think of Martin. Don’t let yourself cum...”
With a yell of fury he came again, his spunk running down over the leather between his thighs and around his balls.
Jim lay exhausted on the floor. He’d lost all interest in going to a club – even if he were to, he knew it would be pointless: he’d be completely useless for the next few hours.
Unlike in the early days of their relationship, when they had been monogamous, Andrew now had sex with whatever guys he wanted, whenever he wanted – and that was often. In theory, Jim was free to go with other guys too – but in fact Andrew made sure that he couldn’t. Whenever Jim was due to meet someone, he milked him dry first, so that it ruined his ability to perform, and completely removed the boy’s interest in meeting anyone at all.
Sometimes, like tonight, it was a simple, quick process – other times it was intentionally much more frustrating, more prolonged, more complicated, with Jim strapped down in their playroom, struggling and fighting to stop himself from being forced to cum while Andrew made use of every unfair trick, slowly and leisurely exploiting every one of the boy’s weaknesses – all of which he knew so devastatingly well. However much of a fight he put up, he could never ever fucking stop Andrew from making him cum. It simply wasn’t possible.
In all the time they’d been together, Jim had only once succeeded in holding out against Andrew and had actually got to meet a boy. That had been a long time ago, when Andrew had still been learning all those techniques that Jim was incapable of resisting. Now, the bastard knew every one – and the boy had absolutely no chance. Andrew made quite sure of that.
In that way Andrew made it impossible for Jim to have sex with anyone else – ever.
He removed the boy’s cuffs. “I’ve got a guy coming round later. Get upstairs.”
* * *
In the playroom, Jim was lying in the cage. He was strapped into a leather straitjacket and a tight leather hood, and his feet were cuffed together. From there he would hear every detail of Andrew and tonight’s boy having sex a few feet away but - however much he wanted to - he wouldn’t be able to see it. Jim had lost count of the number of times the bastard had done that to him – it turned Andrew on to know that Jim so desperately wanted to watch, but couldn’t. And Andrew often had guys round; he’d undoubtedly have several more here this week.
Jim knew he wouldn’t be allowed to cum again until next weekend. Every time Andrew had a guy in the playroom he’d be lying here in the cell, hooded and helpless, listening to them, getting more and more frustrated, more and more horny.
After a whole week of this - and of surfing the websites, finding the most hunky guys, the most drop-dead gorgeous boys, exchanging testosterone-fuelled, detailed messages about what they were going to do to each other, arranging to meet – after a week of that, when Jim was as horny as fuck, he’d have to fight to stop the bastard Andrew from ruining that for him as well.
It was so fucking unfair.
And that was exactly what Jim wanted. It was what turned him on like nothing else. His cock was helpless in Andrew’s hands – he had no defence against him at all. He knew that the man could make him lose it with a single finger whenever he wanted, however desperately Jim fought against it there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop him from making him cum. Jim got hard just thinking about that.
Footsteps coming up the stairs. Andrew and tonight’s boy. His cock was hard as he struggled in the straitjacket and tried to get the hood off so that he could see. But of course he couldn’t.
He smiled under the leather. If ever there was a perfect relationship, this had got to be it.