The Telemachus Story Archive

The One Hundred
Part 7 - 61-70
By Hooder
Email: ukhooder@gmail.com

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61-70

Master Jeff smiled to himself. He could think of worse ways of spending an evening than sitting in a dungeon sipping a good malt while watching boys being tormented out of their minds. This boy was proving to be particularly satisfying, and this malt was particularly good.

A few feet away from him Christian was strapped to a recliner chair. Held in his right hand was a control button. Once again there was a vibrator on his cock, but this time there were also electrodes on his balls.

Master Guy – a short, intense guy - pointed to it. “You, my boy, are going to edge yourself this time. When I switch the computer on, that vibrator will start. But at the same time, the current to the electrodes on your balls will start as well. It’ll begin very low, but gradually increase. You can stop everything by pressing that button in your hand. Half a minute later, the whole thing will start again. Do you understand?”

Christian nodded. “Yes Sir.”

“The first time, I’ll have to calibrate the computer by hand, so your balls will get more painful rather suddenly – but after that it’ll be automatic and things should be a lot smoother.” Master Guy made a final adjustment to the vibrator. Ok, I think it’s all ready.” He pressed a key on the laptop.

“Mmmm...” Christian closed his eyes in pleasure as the vibrator started to buzz. He could feel the current in his balls but it was quite bearable; however, as the vibrator got him slowly more and more close to cumming, the electrodes gradually became a little more painful.

The vibrator buzzed on the head of his cock…

He could feel orgasm getting nearer…

His breathing began to get faster…

He was almost there…

Suddenly the pain in his balls shot up to an unbearable level. He yelled, and stabbed at the button. Everything stopped.

“Sixty-one.”

“Good. The computer has the setting. It’ll raise the current in your balls more smoothly now. Enjoy.”

After a few moments the buzzing began again. Christian felt himself starting once more on the road to orgasm. This time the pain in his balls increased slightly faster, but more smoothly. He was getting close, but the pain was stronger – and earlier – than it had been before.

He was so close. If he could bear the pain he could actually cum! He gritted his teeth as his breathing became more shallow…

“Argh! Shit!” It was just too much – he could’t do it. He thumped the button again and gasped in relief as the pain in his balls stopped. But so did the vibrator. He had been so fucking close, and he had stopped it himself. He made fists in rage. Next time, he would bear it, and he would fucking CUM!

“Sixty-two.”

The sequence began again. He was determined to beat this machine, to overcome the pain, and to get the orgasm he needed so fucking badly. Gradually he got closer again. The vibrator was sending waves of ecstasy through him, but the pain in his balls was getting worse again. He screwed up his face as he approached the edge. This time he would NOT press that fucking button.

With a scream made up of pain, frustration and pure fury, he hammered at the button. It was fucking impossible.

“Sixty-three.”

Every time, he vowed to himself that this time he would bear it. Not matter what. He needed to cum so badly that it was worth any pain.

But every time, he pressed the button. He just could not take it.

Jeff, James, and Guy watched, Guy keeping a close eye on the computer screen, as time after time Christian stabbed the button just before he could cum.

“Seventy.”

There were tears of frustration in Christian’s eyes. This session had been more humiliating than any of the others: he had nobody to blame but himself this time. His cock jerked as Guy carefully removed the vibrator.


They’d put the straitjacket and the hood on him again in the van, but this time not the shorts. Instead he wore nothing below the waist at all. His cock, which was permanently hard now, stabbed the air between his thighs as if angrily searching for something to rub against as he sat, strapped immobile, in the metal chair.

“I think everything’s ready,” said Master William, handing Jeff a glass with an inch of amber liquid in it. “The boys are in their kit, and waiting.”

“Excellent.” Master Jeff took a sip. “Laphroiag. Wonderful. Thank you.” It was, in truth, Jeff’s favourite of the peaty island malts.

* * *

Christian was lying on a padded wooden plank. Earlier it had been vertical, while hands had wrapped rubber strips tightly around him and the plank, mummifying his entire body except for his genitals and his head, but then they’d lowered it to the horizontal and placed it on two low stands. He was incapable of moving a single millimeter in any direction.

This time, when they took the hood off him, Christian found himself not in a playroom, but in a private gymnasium, and looking at three hunky lads working out on exercise machines. His mouth went dry. They were all naked apart from shiny black Adidas shorts with white stripes down the sides. He closed his eyes in defeat and moaned. “Oh fuck no…..”

Sports kit – and especially shorts - had been Christian’s biggest fetish for as long as he could remember. He only had to see guys in them and he got hard instantly. And these shorts were black and shiny. He needed to feel them, bury his face in them, feel hard horny cocks through them… As he watched the lads, he felt the power of his old fetish grabbing hold of him. This was going to be unbearable.

James had pulled across a wooden block and had sat down on it level with Christian’s crotch. The protruding cock and balls contrasted starkly with the black rubber strips, and already a thin stream or precum was running down it.

Christian watched the three guys’ muscles flexing as they worked out with weights. A sheen of perspiration covered their skin. They all had close-cropped hair, and their bodies shone with health.

James’ fingers had started their devilish work. They stroked the shaft and drew small circles lightly over his cock-head. The boy felt his body beginning to gear up for another orgasm that it would inevitably be denied.

The three lads were very obviously getting turned on – whether by their working out, by seeing each other working out or by being watched by a terminally-horny, helpless boy with an overpowering fetish for shorts, was not clear – but they were all hard, their cocks pushing their shorts out into bulges that Christian ached to touch.

One of them put his weights down, stroked his hands over his arms, and stood up. He walked leisurely over to the mummified boy and stood for a moment looking down at him. He ran his hands slowly over his shorts, accentuating the shape of the heavy erect cock under them. Then he stood touching the head end of the plank and very slowly lowered his crotch onto Christian’s face.

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