The Telemachus Story Archive

The One Hundred
Part 8 - 71-80
By Hooder
Email: ukhooder@gmail.com

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71-80

“Seventy-one.”

James, although being incredibly careful now, had almost been caught out by that and only just managed to stop in time.

Christian screamed in frustration, making the boy’s shorts flutter. Those shiny black shorts covering his face, the feel of the hard cock inside them, pressing against his mouth and his nose, together with the teasing and tickling that the bastard James was doing – all this was working directly on his deepest, most overpoweringly intense weaknesses. He tried to beat his fists on the plank in rage, but he had been made incapable of even that small movement. Christian was in both his personal heaven and hell at the same time. He had never, ever believed it was possible to need to cum so badly.

The lad straddled the plank, facing Christian’s head this time, and pulled one of his shorts legs up so that his cock sprang out. Christian’s own cock was a very respectable size, but this was substantially bigger than his: it was long and heavy. He held Christian’s head immobile in his hands and moved his hips slowly forward until the boy could just lick the tip of his cock. Christian fought to get to it, to take it all into his mouth, but the guy only allowed him to touch the end of it – and then only just, with the very tip of his tongue.

James’s teasing fingers needed to do almost nothing to bring the boy to the edge again.

Christian was almost panicking to get to the guy’s cock. In his present condition, the sight of it sticking out of those shiny black shorts was too much for him. He didn’t care about anything else – more than anything in the world he needed to suck that cock, to feel it inside his mouth. James’ teasing fingers only made that need more urgent than ever.

“Seventy-two.”

The other two lads had come over. They stood either side of the one with his cock out, their bulging crotches directly in Christian’s line of sight. Three sexy guys in shiny black shorts. Christian was almost delerious with need. They ran their hands over their shorts teasingly and began to stroke and caress his skin with their fingertips.

The one in the middle pushed his hips forward again until his cock slid into Christian’s open and ravenous mouth. The boy’s lips closed around it and he began to suck.

“Seventy-three.”

Christian had a short coughing fit - his co-ordination interfered with by the ecstatic pleasure of imminent orgasm and the unbearable frustration of its denial - but the second it had passed he was working on the lad’s cock again. He used hips lips and tongue with manic enthusiasm to bring the guy to a shuddering climax. It was so violent that even though he was swallowing as fast as he could, spunk still overflowed and ran down his face onto the rubber strips.

“Seventy-four.”

James was hardly having to do any teasing at all now. He was getting concerned that the boy may be able to cum without any stimulation from him whatsoever. That would not be good. He whispered to the three guys to back off for a few moments, to let Christian cool down a little. The lad straddling the plank got off and joined the other two who had padded over to positions behind the boy’s head, out of his line of sight.

Christian closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Oh fuck, he wasn’t going to get through this. Those boys in those shorts were too much for him. It was unfair. It was fiendishly unfair to leave this until the last visit. Bastards. “BASTARDS!” He yelled at the top of his voice.

James nodded, and the two lads who hadn’t cum yet, returned. They stood massaging themselves through their shorts, making the shiny black material move and slide over their cocks. Christian watched like a rabbit in headlights – he was incapable of looking away.

The one on the left gripped his cock through his shiny shorts and started to wank himself off slowly. Gradually his pace increased until his knees bent and he threw his head back in the throes of orgasm. Spunk ran down the inside of the shorts and onto the floor. “Yeeeeeah,” he growled.

“Seventy-five.”

The next three edgings were done while the lads were kissing each other, their hands roaming over each other’s bodies. They had clearly been briefed very well about Christian’s fetishes, as they used their shorts to tease him all the time: stroking their fingers over them, licking them, groping each other’s cocks through them. Each time, James worked on the helpless boy, a grin of pure sadism on his face and the codpiece of his rubber jeans stretched almost to bursting by his own erection.

There was one lad who hadn’t cum yet. He was a muscular hunk, his six-pack well-defined below beautiful pecs. A sprinkling of hair covered them and a slightly darker line ran down from between them to his navel. As the first one had done, he straddled the boy now. Another of the lads did likewise, immediately behind him. This one inserted his hand between the first one’s thighs, and up the leg of his loose shorts. Christian moaned as he saw the moving outline of the lad’s cock as the hand pushed it from side to side under the shorts. Then the bulge changed shape as the hand gripped the shaft and started to wank it teasingly slowly.

“Seventy-nine.”

Christian’s body was on fire. Every nerve cried out for orgasm. The feeling when James removed his fingers, leaving him on the very brink of ejaculation, was indescribable. He had never known frustration like this before in his life.

The shiny black shorts bellowed in and out as the hand inside them worked on the muscular lad’s cock, each backward stroke leaving the shape of his cock-head clearly outlined by the shiny black material. He suddenly pushed his hips forward and forced his cock-head into Christian’s mouth. The boy began to suck it wildly through the shorts as the hand inside them continued to wank the shaft. Suddenly the lad’s thighs trembled and he arched his back as he came. The hand continued milking him as his spunk soaked through the black material. Christian sucked and licked every drop as fast as it appeared. Excess spunk ran down the inside of the shorts and dripped onto the boy’s rubber-encased body.

“Eighty.”

Christian lost consciousness.


James had considered it too dangerous for Christian to wear his shorts for the ride back to the Mansion – even the light brushing of the material over his hypersensitive cock might make him cum, and that was most certainly not to be risked.

The van parked in the back garage and, blindfolded by the hood and in the leather straitjacket, he was walked back into the Mansion.

It was just eleven thirty, and so Christian had half an hour until the finale of the event. With his hands shackled to a belt so that he couldn’t get to his cock, he was spoon-fed a light meal and taken to the bathroom. Then he was allowed to sit in the lounge. James, with his usual cunning, had arranged for videos of previous edging sessions at the Mansion to be played on the enormous flat-screen TV for his entertainment while he rested.

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