From the windowsill the sound of Judas Priest was coming out of a bright yellow crash helmet that someone had fitted with a radio. The room smelled of stale coffee, neatsfoot oil, wet leather, and boys. Apollo Couriers had ten bikers on their books but there were only five of them in at the moment; they were lounging on the chairs, chatting, reading magazines, or on their phones. The lads looked up when the door opened.
“Hi. You the new guy?” A dark-haired biker smiled.
Fuck, thought Joey, now that’s a hunk. “Yep. I’m Joey.”
“Welcome to Apollo. I’m Rick. Wanna coffee?”
Joey joined him on one of the settees. The coffee was awful. On the other side of the room a mobile rang; one of the lads checked it, picked up his helmet, nodded to the others and went out. Another delivery.
This wasn’t the first couriers Joey had worked for, but it was the first one where the interview had consisted of walking into the office, being asked what bike he’d got and how long he’d been riding, having his driving licence glanced at, being told to unzip his bike suit and turn around slowly while being inspected in silence for fifteen seconds by the owner Maurice, and then being told that he’d got the job. That had been it. It seemed that apart from actually being able to ride a motorcycle the only qualification necessary was to be very hunky or very cute, and to look hot in leathers. Joey knew that Apollo’s rates were substantially higher than other companies, but he also knew that they did good business and had an extremely solid client base.
On the wall above him and Rick was a large map of the city. It had been divided into slices like a pie chart, with a rider’s name assigned to each. Joey’s was to the south south west, in the direction of his home, and so it was an area he knew well.
He looked around at the other bikers with wide eyes: every one was drop-dead gorgeous. “So is it just deliveries, or do we have to do… extra stuff as well?”
Rick smiled. “Oh it’s just deliveries, usually. Though if the client asks – and if you want to – you can do whatever you like. Just don’t put the extra cash through the books.”
Joey nodded. The lads were all in their late teens or early twenties, and stunning: some were just cute, the others had muscles to die for as well as being good-looking. It was swelteringly warm in the room and everybody had their bike suits unzipped to the waist and hanging around their hips.
He lowered his voice. “Is everybody here gay?”
Rick chuckled. “Nah. Only Simon over there.” He pointed to a boy with a blond mohican sitting by the window. “Oh, and Bob – he’s out on a job. The rest of us are straight. But money is money. Maurice keeps this room warm so that we’ll unzip our leathers – he likes to look at us.” He pointed to a CCTV camera fixed to the ceiling. “You gay then?”
Joey smiled. “I think so. I don’t really know. So why just good-looking guys?”
Rick grinned. “Maurice started Apollo so he could be surrounded by hot guys in bike gear. He’s gay, and he’s into leather in a big way.”
“Ah.” Another mobile rang. Simon picked up his helmet and walked to the door. He winked at Joey on the way out.
Ten minutes later it was Joey’s phone. He checked the text that had been sent from the dispatch room – a delivery to the Wayford Docks area. He put his helmet on. “Thanks, Rick. See you later.”
The woman at reception smiled. “Apollo?”
“Yes.” Joey nodded and held out the brown envelope.
“You need to take it to Mr Evans. First floor. The lift’s over there but believe me it’s a lot quicker to take the stairs.”
Joey thanked her.
At the top, he knocked on the only door there was.
“Come in.”
Joey had been expecting the usual sparse kind of office, but this looked more like a flat. Instead of bare walls with charts and whiteboards, there was wallpaper and pictures. It was like a living room. At a desk by the window a guy in a khaki pullover, combat trousers and boots spun his chair round and smiled. “Apollo?”
“Yeah. Hello.”
“Hi. I’m Mike.” He got up. I was just about to make a coffee. Want one?”
“Why not? Thanks.”
Mike took the brown envelope from Joey and dropped it into the waste bin on his way to what the boy assumed was a kitchen. Joey looked at it lying at the bottom of the bin, frowned for a moment, then chuckled to himself. Right…
“Come through.”
The second room wasn’t a kitchen. It did have a sink and a small counter with a coffee-making machine on it at one side, but there the resemblance ended; the main feature was a large bed. Mike poured the coffee.
“So, you’re the new boy.”
“That’s me. I’m Joey.”
Mike looked at him appraisingly, nodding slowly. “Nice. Very nice. Fuck, you look good in those leathers. You up for a bit of a play?”
It was very difficult not to notice the erection inside Mike’s combats.
Despite his eighteen years, Joey had yet to have sex with anybody at all. Oh, he’d fantasised about it often enough, but it had just never happened. He thought he was gay, at least mostly, as his wanking thoughts were usually about guys (or, occasionally, girls) in leather, but now he had to make a decision. Mike was attractive enough, and he looked good in his combat gear, so that wasn’t a problem; the question was that if he refused, would that jeopardise his job with Apollo? Rick had said that the lads only did extra-curricular stuff if they wanted to, but he wondered, was that reality? He decided that for now he’d go with it and see what happened.
He laughed, slightly embarrassed. “This is my first day,” he replied.
“That’s no problem. No problem at all.” Mike stood up. “Come here.”
Joey put his coffee down and moved closer to the guy. Mike embraced him, running his hands over the leather bike suit. Mike smiled. “You feel good. Nice body. And you are soooo cute. Mmm…” He pulled Joey onto the bed and kissed him hard.
Mike’s hands were all over the boy, but gradually they homed in on his crotch. As they squeezed and stroked, Joey felt his cock beginning to get hard. After a while Mike said, “let’s have this off you.” He pulled the long zip of Joey’s bike suit down slowly. “Ah. Good to see that you go commando under your leathers.” He removed the bike boots, helped him out of his one-piece and turned him over.
“I’ve never been fucked before,” Joey said.
“Really? Well don’t worry. Just relax.” Mike rolled a condom onto his cock and lubed it.
Joey had wondered if it would hurt, but after the first few seconds it didn’t. So this was what it felt like to be fucked, he thought. He smiled - it felt good. Mike was fairly gentle, using long slow strokes for a while, but the closer he got to cumming the faster and more powerful the thrusts became. Joey’s cock was rubbing against the bed sheet.
Ten minutes later they were lying side by side and both were smiling. “Fuck, that was nice,” said Joey, “but I need to cum now.”
“Oh I know you do. That’s where these come in.” Mike pressed a button on the headboard and four short metal posts rose at the corners of the bed. “Lie on your back.” Mike jumped off and cuffed Joey’s wrists and ankles to the posts.
“Ah. Er, never been tied up before either,” Joey’s chuckle was slightly nervous.
Mike just smiled. He knelt on the bed and went to work on the boy. Joey was expecting him to wank him or to suck him off, but he didn’t; instead his fingers explored everywhere but his hard cock – his balls, his inner thighs and perineum, his stomach were all teased, tickled and stroked sensuously – but not once did he touch the cock itself. Joey began to moan and to move on the bed.
“Mmm… I need to cum.”
Mike didn’t reply; he just continued to tickle all around the horny cock.
“Work on my cock. Please…”
Mike said nothing, his fingers continuing to tease everywhere but there.
“I think you’d better make me cum before I explode.”
“Oh, you won’t be cumming for a while yet, Joey. Gotta get you a lot more horny before that.”
“Fuck, I can’t get any more horny!”
“Oh, I think you’ll find that you can.”
For fifteen minutes Mike did nothing more than he had been doing, and Joey was getting desperate. His voice was suddenly louder. “Please! Rub my cock! Make me fucking cum!”
Mike opened a drawer and took out a gag. He pushed it between Joey’s teeth and strapped it in place. From the same drawer he picked up a long white feather, which he twirled in his fingers.
The gag felt huge in his mouth. It completely prevented him from forming words, and he suddenly realised that he wouldn’t be able to let Mike know if anything was wrong. That was worrying, but at the same time it made him feel even more helpless – and that, he found, was horny.
The gag muffled the boy’s yell to an urgent ‘mmmpphhh’ as the tip of the feather touched his cock for the first time. It stroked up and down the shaft. Mike settled into a more comfortable position and concentrated on the increasingly desperate boy in front of him. He teased the feather over Joey’s cock slowly, avoiding the head for now, stopping each time just before the ridge.
“Hmm. Nice, but could be better,” said Mike. This time the drawer produced a second feather and a long, narrow leather strip, which he wound tightly around the base of the boy’s genitals like a cock ring, and tied it off. When he’d finished, the cock was harder than ever, and it was sticking out like a flagpole. He went back to tickling the shaft, and used the other feather on the now tightly-stretched skin of Joey’s balls.
Joey had never felt anything like this before in his life. That thing the guy had wound around him made his cock feel huge, and it made it so fucking sensitive he couldn’t believe it. The feathers tickled like fuck – especially the one on his balls - but at the same time it was the most horny thing he’d ever felt in his life. He moaned and spluttered into the gag as Mike worked on him. His cock was crying out for much firmer pressure. If only the guy would fucking rub it. Just once – that would be enough, just a rub. Please. He really really needed that.
After a long time Mike put the feathers down. Despite the fact that precum was coating the head of Joey’s cock, he poured a big blob of lube onto just a single finger and thumb, held it up for a moment, smiling, and then lowered his hand and spread it onto the angry purple glans carefully and slowly.
Joey’s whole body went rigid; his cock felt unbelievably sensitive after all the feather teasing and tickling, and this was the first time the head had been touched at all. The tips of Mike’s finger and thumb gliding slowly over it in the lube now made his need to cum so acute that he didn’t know what to do. He yelled into the gag, but all that came out were muffled noises.
The fingers stroked over and around the tip of his cock, occasionally working on the frenulum, but never for very long at a time. It seemed as if the guy knew at any moment how close the boy was to cumming, because he always stopped just too soon. Every time he did this, Joey bucked up and down on the bed frantically trying to fuck the guy’s fingers, trying desperately to get enough friction to cum.
He lost count of the number of times he was brought almost to the point of cumming but then denied orgasm – there were a lot - and every time it happened it seemed to be worse than the last. He thought he was going to go mad.
Eventually Mike stopped, leaving the boy again hysterically humping the bed, his rock-hard cock flailing in the air. He got up, took a camera out of the cupboard under the sink and spent a few minutes taking photos of the naked biker from different angles. Then he poured himself another coffee and stood there sipping it while he looked at the helpless boy.
When Mike took the gag off and released him from the bed Joey still hadn’t cum. It had been well over ten minutes since the teasing had stopped, but he was still as horny as fuck.
“Put your gear back on.” He smiled.
Joey assumed that was all that Mike wanted to do, and he was disappointed – he’d hoped that the guy would have brought him off. But when he was dressed again, Mike told him to get back onto the bed. He hogtied him, took a few more photos of him, and then knelt behind him.
“You still want to cum?” He reached down and found Joey’s cock between his bent thighs, worked it into a more accessible position under the tight black leather, and then gripped it gently. He began to stroke up and down over it slowly and lightly.
“Fuck yeah.”
“Good.” The hand continued to wank it lazily, moving up the leather-covered cock millimetre by millimetre towards the head. When his fingers eventually got there they teased over the glans, found the frenulum and stroked it softly.
Joey was shaking his head. “No – stop or I’ll cum in my leathers!”
Mike smiled. “Nah, you can stop yourself if you try. I’m hardly touching you. Willpower, Joey, willpower.”
One of Mike’s fingers had pushed the leather under the head of his cock, and every time he moved it even slightly it sent shivers of need through the boy.
After another few seconds Joey shook his head again. “Oh fuck this feels too horny, being tied up like this. Please stop – I will cum.”
“Well, fight it then. It’s your cock, control it. Don’t let yourself cum, boy, otherwise you’ll have to ride back squelching in spunk.” His fingers were still stroking over the head, but they’d slowed down even more, and every few seconds they stopped altogether.
Joey had always gone commando on the bike because he loved the feel of being naked under the bike suit, and the thought of the ride back with cold, sticky spunk all over the inside of his leathers was not appealing at all. But at the moment he had very little control of himself – that gentle, slow stroking over his cock head was impossible to fight. And he was absolutely sure that the bastard knew it. But every time the fingers stopped, his determination not to cum reasserted itself.
He felt himself getting dangerously close again and he started to struggle. There is not much you can do when you’re hogtied, but Joey did whatever he could to get that hand off his cock. He bounced around on the bed, but whatever he did, however hard he tried, he couldn’t get away from those fingers. They teased and stroked over the tip of his cock through the leather, and Joey felt himself getting dangerously close to cumming.
“Nooo!” Get off you bastard!”
“Fight it. Stop me! Fight it!” Immediately Mike’s fingers gripped harder and slid over the cock with short, fast strokes fully intended to make the boy lose control of himself.
He did. With a loud, sharp yell that changed quickly into a long, drawn-out moan of pleasure, Joey came. As he thrust his hips, pushing his cock into the guy’s fingers, he could feel every pulse as his spunk erupted into the bike suit.
“Fuck fuck fuck!”
Mike continued to milk the madly jerking cock, slowing as the boy gradually relaxed.
Joey lay there panting. Oh fuck, that had been an amazing orgasm. When he could speak again, he looked up at the guy. “Bastard. Why did you make me cum in my leathers?”
One corner of the guy’s mouth rose. “Just something I like to do to boys now and then.”
“You’re evil.”
“I know.”
Joey closed his eyes. “Oh fuck that was weird – it felt so horny fighting to stop you but not being able to.”
Mike just smiled knowingly. He released Joey’s restraints and the boy sat up. There were wet sounds from his crotch.
Joey looked down. “Shit, there’s loads of spunk in there.”
“You should have stopped me from making you cum.”
Joey chuckled. “You made fucking sure I couldn’t.”
“No, I just made it… difficult for you. If you ever fancy another go – if you think you can resist me – there are things here that will make it even harder for you.” He reached over to the headboard and pressed buttons.
Joey’s mouth fell open as motors whirred. The wardrobe opened out into a restraint frame, and shelves full of ropes, cuffs, gags, butt plugs, blindfolds and leather hoods came out of a wall.
“Jesus.” Joey’s eyes were wide. The place was an Aladdin’s cave.
Mike laughed, following the boy’s stupefied gaze. “All of those are designed to keep a horny boy helpless and make him need to cum.”
“So I fucking see.”
“You’d better be getting back.” Mike led the way to the door. In the office he smiled at the biker and handed him a white envelope. “I’m expecting another delivery next week. I hope it’s you.”
Joey picked up his helmet. “I’m gonna make sure it is.” He looked at Mike and grinned. “And I won’t be so fucking easy next time.”
Mike smiled. “Won’t you? Right...” he said.
The boy took the lift down, and while he was inside he opened the white envelope. Inside was £200 in twenties. He smiled, and zipped it into his top pocket.
Fuck – it was his first day and already he’d had sex for the first time in his life, been tied up for the first time, and he’d become a rent boy. The smile turned into a grin.
He was going to enjoy this job.