The Telemachus Story Archive

The One Hundred
Part 3 - 21-30
By Hooder
Email: ukhooder@gmail.com

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21-30

Christian was spread-eagled vertically to a frame. He stared at the figure who had entered the room. The guy was wearing the sexiest, shiniest, tightest black leather he’d ever seen. From his boots up to his leather full-face mask, it all fit him like a second skin. His cock jerked at the sight – and then he groaned. Leather. Another of his weaknesses. This was going to be unbearable.

James, although closely observing and ready at any moment to give the signal to stop, was not going to be administering this session. Peters was himself an experienced edger and, having been told in detail about the boy’s change of breathing when approaching orgasm, was confident he could do the job. And this was going to be all about the touch of black leather – something at which Peters was an expert.

He looked at the boy, smiling gently behind the mask. “Cold, black leather makes you need to cum, doesn’t it…? Well boy, I’m going to use it on you to make you want to cum very, very badly indeed. But you won’t be able to cum however much you need to... We’ve put you in this position so that you can see that leather very clearly.” He opened a cool box by the wall and took out a pair of heavy horsehide leather jeans. “Look carefully at these jeans, boy. Imagine what they’re going to feel like stroking over your bare skin. Over your legs, your balls, over your cock...” He held them in front of the boy’s face, being careful not to let them touch him anywhere. “Smell the leather. Lick it.”

Christian did so, his cock jerking at the touch of the cold leather against his lips and tongue.

Peters took one of the legs of the jeans. Very carefully he held it between the spread thighs, making sure it didn’t touch the naked skin, kept it there for a moment so that Christian could see it, and then pushed the end of the leg up, deep into the crevice between the boy’s balls and the inside of his thigh.

Christian threw back his head and moaned. “Oh fuuuuck...” he whispered. A pearl of precum appeared on the tip of his cock.

Without removing it, he pressed and stroked the jeans against the inside of the boy’s leg.

Christian pulled at the restraints, trying to close his legs so that he could squeeze the leather between them – that would certainly have made him cum – but he couldn’t. As always, he was being controlled perfectly.

Knowing that the leg of the leather jeans had warmed up almost to body temperature now and so was less effective, Peters turned them round. Using just the end of the other leg, he stroked it repeatedly from the base to the head of the boy’s cock, caressing it with leather.

Christian’s eyes were fixed on it. He saw every tiny movement of the shiny black leather, and it got to him like nothing had done so far. The smooth black horsehide stroked over the bare glans of his cock. His breathing became faster and more shallow – he was going to cum…

“Twenty-one.”

“NOOOOOO!!! PLEASE!!!! PLEASE LET ME CUM!!!!” This was the first time so far that the boy had pleaded. James nodded to Master Peters in approval – he had stopped at exactly the right moment.

Peters waited for the boy to recover, then took another pair of jeans from the cool box. He opened the legs and placed them on the boys stomach so that his cock was poking out between them under the crotch, and they were hanging from it. He threaded the legs between Christian’s thighs, wrapped them around his hips and tied the ends around his waist, over the top of the jeans. It formed a kind of shiny black harness. From the cool box Peters then took a black leather gauntlet with a stiff cuff. He stood behind the boy, reached through between his thighs and gripped his cock gently with cool leather fingers. The gauntlet cuff stroked and pressed against his perineum and the back of his balls.

Immediately Christian’s breathing changed. The sight of the leather gauntlet, and the feel of it going between his thighs from behind had very nearly made him cum. It was one of James’ favourite ways to milk boys who had a leather fetish. The victim would be held by the two senior slaves, wearing their leather uniforms, while James would thrust his gauntleted hand between the boy’s legs from behind, enclose his balls in a leather grip, and use his other gauntleted hand from the front to milk him irresistably. It caused a feeling of intense invasion – almost like rape. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his legs and squeezing the leather gauntlet tightly between the tops of his thighs, and that only intensified the feeling. He could never hold out for longer than a few seconds however hard he tried when James milked him like that.

“Twenty-two.”

“Close,” said James.

“Indeed. We’ll let him go off the boil, I think.” Peters had withdrawn his hand, and was putting the gauntlet back into the cool box while they allowed the boy to recover for a couple of minutes.

This time Peters was more careful. The gloved hand slowly inserted itself between the boy’s thighs, waited, then the fingers gripped the cock. Christian was at the start of the shallow breathing, but after a few seconds, during which Peters had not moved a millimeter, he slowly relaxed again. Peters was delighted to find that, with his hand positioned there, simply by stroking the cock head slowly and then stopping, he was able to keep the boy at the start of the shallow breathing indefinitely. Now and again he dared to take him a little closer… and soon he could get him to the breath-holding stage with ease.

“Twenty-three.”

“Twenty-four.”

“Twenty-five.”

Christian sagged in the restraints. This was worse than anything he had experienced before. There were no words to describe how horny he was, how badly he needed to cum. Every touch sent waves of ecstasy through his body – and the feel of the cool black leather on his skin… Oh fuck.

Successful as that had been, the leather had warmed up now and needed changing. Peters unwrapped the jeans from around the boy’s hips and opened the cool box again. He handed a leather jacket to James. “If you would…?”

While James pressed the cold, shiny leather jacket across the boy’s back and arse, stroked it down his legs from behind, and pushed it between the tops of his thighs, Peters held more leather jeans over Christian’s chest, allowing the dangling legs to brush repeatedly along his cock. He wrapped more leather around the boy’s head, pressing it tight across his face with one hand and pushing it between his teeth with his fingers while he stroked the legs of the jeans along the length of the boy’s cock with the other. He whispered close to Christian’s ear. “You can’t fight black leather, boy. If I wanted it to, it could make you cum, so easily…”

“Twenty-six.”

Twenty-seven to thirty were achieved by the simple expedient of enclosing the boy’s cock completely in leather and just holding it there, letting the feel of the cold leather on his cock do the work. The build-up was slow, but unstoppable. At the right moment the leather was removed and everyone watched as the boy tore at the restraints and screamed his frustration. At these moments James’ hand went to his own cock and massaged it through his rubber jeans.

“Thirty.”

Christian could hardly stand. Even when he was being released from the frame, his hand fought to get to his cock, to finish himself off.

This was total and absolute torture.


“I believe you like good Scotch whisky.”

“I do.”

“Well try this. It’s a 30-year old Glengoyne. Was a present a while ago – I’ve been waiting for someone to share it with who’d appreciate it.”

“That’s an expensive one. I think I’ve only had a Glengoyne once before. Thank you!”

Master Doug was in his thirties, fit, and with a well-defined body, but the poor man’s face was like the back end of a bus. The first thing you thought of when you saw him was comic-book gangster. That was unfortunate because he was a friendly, happy guy. When he spoke, his voice made you think that it was coming from someone else – it was quiet and sexy and not at all what you’d been expecting. He had about 20 regular boys who came for his expertise in psychology and hypnosis - in a previous life he’d been a stage hypnotist.

“So,” said Jeff, sipping the whisky respectfully – it was as smooth as silk, “any ideas on how you’d like to do this?”

“Well, it’s a shame I don’t know the subject better. If I did, I could possibly get him into a deep enough trance to stop him being able to cum at all – then we could do what the hell we liked to him. But I don’t know him, so I’m not going to try that. In fact I don’t think hypnosis is the way to go at all here. Plain, simple psychology is what we need, I think. Now, tell me in as much detail as you can about our boy...”

“James would be the one to tell you that.”

James told Doug everything he could think of about Christian. Occasionally Doug interrupted to get clarification about something, or asked questions James hadn’t thought of. He asked particularly about Christian’s ideal type – both physically and character. Eventually Doug sat back and pondered.

“Ok,” he said at last, “here’s what we’ll do...”

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