A long way above him, the Arctic wind was howling. He’d almost got disorientated as he’d run from the helicopter through the blinding snow, and if he hadn’t actually stumbled over the service hatch he’d never have found it. Now, many floors deeper and past several booby traps, Jason was standing outside the room that was the reason for all of this skulduggery. Ten minutes on his own with the computer that was inside, and it would send all of its data to MI6 in London in a burst transmission, and they would know everything they needed about the shady ‘Organisation’. If he did it right, these people would never know they’d been compromised. All he’d have to do then would be to get out of the place alive.
The circular, vault-like door was set into the side of the stone passageway hewn out of the rock, and Jason had no idea how he was going to get inside. There was what appeared to be a straightforward electronic combination lock in the centre. He moved closer and ran a fingertip lightly over the button panel, looking for worn keys that would give him a clue to the required code. As he studied it, something cold and hard pressed gently to the side of his head. Shit, shit, shit; they were good – he hadn’t heard them approaching.
“Hands behind your back. Slowly.” A thick foreign accent.
A second pair of hands cuffed his wrists, and the last thing he saw before the cloth hood was dropped over his head was the soft green glow of the numbers on the lock’s display.
* * *
He wasn’t taken into the computer room; instead he was marched down the passageway, through another door, along unseen corridors, and finally into a room that was warmer, and had closer acoustics. By the time the hood was removed, he’d been stripped, and strapped down to a cold steel table. He looked around nervously. The evenly lit room was tiled in white, and the two guys who had brought him here were leaving.
Some minutes later the door opened again, and Jason stared at the figure who entered – the man was clad from head to toe in shiny black leather.
“Jason Kent.” The voice was quiet, and gloating.
Jason sneered. “Adrian Smallcock.”
The man growled through gritted teeth. “It’s pronounced Smollock. ” He walked closer, looking down at his victim, and his voice returned to its previous honeyed tones. “But you can call me Adrian. What on earth is MI6 thinking, sending a teenage boy to do a man’s work?”
Jason ignored the jibe. “Why the kinky black leather, Smallcock?”
“Well, when I heard that they were sending the boy wonder instead of a more… formidable adversary, I was pleased. It would allow me not only to make MI6’s latest protégé disappear, but it would also give me the opportunity of making that disappearance very slow and very interesting. Wearing this gear will help me to do that more effectively. It makes me feel sadistic. The things I am going to do to you are some of my very favourites, and most of them are interestingly enhanced by sadism.”
Jason tried his best to hide his mounting terror. “So you’re going to torture me to death.”
Adrian drew in a shocked breath. “No, no – I would not torture a fit, eighteen-year old boy like you to death. You think I’m inhuman? No. That would be a waste. I am simply going to make you want to cum.”
“Cum?” Jason was confused. Compared to what the fiend could do to him, making him cum would be infinitely preferable.
“No, not cum. Want to cum.”
Ok, Jason thought. That still sounded better than the application of red-hot pincers. But he wasn’t the slightest bit horny right now – in fact sex of any kind was the last thing on his mind, and this was clearly a perverted man, not a sexy girl with big boobs. “Knock yourself out,” he said, looking away and feigning disinterest.
The leather mask crinkled slightly as the man smiled slowly under it. The white-edged eye holes had tapered curves going up at their sides, giving the thing an unsettlingly demonic leer. It did indeed look sadistic, and gave the impression that it could gain great pleasure from focusing very intently and very precisely on causing suffering.
Adrian looked down at the figure strapped to the table. His organisation’s operations provided him with subjects – usually for interrogation – on a fairly regular basis, but this was by far the sexiest boy he’d had here for a very long time. Firmly-muscled body, blond, blue eyes, and cute. Very cute. Jason was fucking gorgeous, he thought. Just looking at him made his cock hard in his leathers. He bent down and began to kiss and lick the naked boy’s pecs. He moaned quietly in pleasure as his lips and tongue glided over the soft, hairless, golden skin. From the pecs he moved to the abs, then up to the side of the boy’s neck (oh fuck, he loved boys’ necks), across his face to his mouth – a gentle kiss even though the lips were pressed resolutely together. He ran his face through the golden hair and inhaled the beautiful scent of boy.
At first Jason had screwed his face up in repulsion, but after those muscles had begun to ache he’d relaxed them. His arms were strapped away from his sides and he couldn’t close them; right now the man was licking deep in an armpit. It tickled like hell – but it also felt a bit erogenous.
“Mmm,” said Adrian, straightening up, “you taste delicious.” He took what looked like a thin, black rubber tube from the table and tightened it around the base of Jason’s soft cock, and then fitted a smaller one just under the ridge. He plugged leads into them, and picked up a box.
Jason was getting worried again. In his mind nothing good could come from electricity where cocks were concerned.
The man looked into his eyes through the leather mask, and began to turn a control knob up very slowly.
“ARGH!” Jason had reacted by instinct when he’d felt something, but in fact there was no pain. After a moment he relaxed slightly as he felt slow, rhythmic pulses traveling up his cock. It was not unpleasant. In fact it was quite nice.
The man nodded to himself and put the control box back onto the table. “I’ll see you shortly.” He turned and left the room.
The pulses continued doing their thing for a while, and then they changed: now, instead of pulses, there was a wonderful tingling on the head of his cock and part way down the shaft. This stayed for a while, before the pulses returned and the cycle began again.
To his horror, Jason realised that he was getting hard. Slowly but surely his cock rose, and, despite his best efforts, there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop it. His cock continued to get harder until, a few minutes later, he was full erect. And he also realised that he was beginning to feel horny.
* * *
When the leatherclad figure returned, Jason expected this to decline rapidly – but it didn’t. And the guy didn’t seem quite so repellent to him. His leather jacket and jeans, boots – even the mask – by some strange alchemy looked slightly exciting – more so because Jason was strapped down helpless. He didn’t understand it; he was not in the least bit into guys, bondage, leather or kinky sex. But he was, inexplicably, finding it all disturbingly interesting. That’s just because you’re horny, he told himself, but whether that was true or not, it was certainly a fact.
Adrian picked something else up from the table, lubed it, and disappeared under the table. Jason’s eyes opened wide and he gasped as he felt something cool touch the ring of his arse. There must be a hole in the table, he thought. He clenched everything as hard as he could to keep it out, but the thing was being pushed gently but firmly in, and soon enough the boy felt his sphincter close after the widest part. It was a weird feeling: it made him feel as if he wanted to crap.
Adrian stood up, looking at the boy’s cock. Jason could tell he was smiling under the black mask.
Jason glanced down, and he was mortified to see that not only was it as hard as steel, but that there was also a traitorous drop of precum on the tip. He also became aware that it was exceedingly difficult to keep still – the pulses and tingling on his cock, together with the fullness in his arse (which had now transformed into a very pleasurable feeling indeed) were conspiring to make him move in his restraints like a slut. He put a stop to that immediately, but he felt his face going red as he realised that he was enjoying the feeling of helplessness, the straps tight over his limbs and body, and the things that Adrian was doing to him.
The electrodes on his cock were removed, and Adrian’s leather jeans creaked as he sat down on a stool at the side of the table. He pulled on a pair of skintight, thin leather gloves, leaned forward and peered at the boy’s cock. “Hmm. When I first saw your cock I thought it’s not very big, is it, but clearly you’re a grower not a shower. That is very respectable equipment for a teenage boy.” He held it with one hand and began to rub his thumb over the head very gently, and very lightly, using the drop of precum as lube.
Jason had never had anyone touch his naked cock before, and at the first contact he stifled a gasp at the unfamiliar feeling. But there was no pain involved – at least not yet – so he forced himself to relax. And oh fuck, what Adrian was doing felt good. He realised that he’d started writhing on the table again, and brought himself under control, but it didn’t last; every stroke over his cockhead sent waves of horny pleasure into him.
Adrian turned for a moment and picked up a leather thong. He wrapped it tightly around the base of the boy’s cock and balls, and tied it off. Then he went back to teasing the increasingly interested cock.
Jason sighed: whatever this fucking guy did to him seemed to turn him on. The thong seemed to make his cock feel even bigger and more sensitive than it had been already. It felt like it was isolated, and it felt unbelievably vulnerable.
When the hand enveloped his cock completely and gripped it, Jason immediately began thrusting his hips to fuck it – the leather of the glove felt surprisingly horny – but the very tight, wide strap over his pelvis had obviously been positioned for the purpose, because it made it impossible to hump anything like far enough to fuck the hand. He moaned.
“Do you need to cum yet?”
“Oh fuck yes. Please!” The words had left his lips before he could stop them.
Adrian gave a quiet chuckle. “No, believe me you don’t know what needing to cum is like. Not yet. But you will find out, pretty boy, you will find out.” He hand went back to teasing the cock, and he brought the other up to tickle Jason’s balls at the same time.
It wasn’t fair. Jason was not into this sort of thing in the slightest. If you’d told him an hour ago that being strapped down – that having a dildo in his arse, electrics, or the gloved hand of a pervert guy in full black leather on his cock – would have him pleading to be allowed to cum, he’d have laughed in your face. But here he was, writhing like a slut in heat.
Adrian poured lube onto the palm of his hand, spread it around with his fingers, and gripped the boy’s cock again. He began to slide his hand up and down it very slowly.
Jason threw his head back and struggled in the restraints. God, that slippery leather hand felt un-fucking-believable. Suddenly his need to cum was off the scale. “Please. Do it faster. Harder. I need to cum. I really need to cum.”
“Do you?” There was another chuckle. He reached down, and a moment later, electricity began to tickle the boy’s prostate.
This was something else Jason had never experienced before. He knew about prostates, but he’d had no idea what they could feel like when stimulated. It was like something was trying to make him cum, but from the inside. His eyes defocused and he let out a long, low, moan – both of pleasure, and need. He was going to cum!
The hand on his cock stopped, and just held it gently, motionless.
No! This was too much. Jason fought the strap across his hips, trying to fuck the hand. He had to fuck it. He had to cum. The leather enclosing his cock – black, shiny, slippery – taunted him. Even though it wasn’t moving, it was the most excruciatingly horny thing he’d ever felt, and he knew without any doubt that if it started sliding up and down his cock again, he would cum in seconds flat.
But the hand didn’t move, and he couldn’t cum. He would never have believed that it was possible for a boy to need orgasm so desperately. Without caring that he was doing it, and in a hoarse, urgent whisper, he pleaded, “oh fuck. Fuck. I gotta cum. Please. Please let me cum.”
Adrian gazed down at him, smiling in satisfaction under the leather mask, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he turned the electric dildo down and removed his hand from the boy’s cock. He watched for a minute as he allowed Jason gradually to calm down, and his muscles to relax. Then he picked up a feather, and turned the dildo up again.
Jason moaned as the plug in his arse began to work on him again – then his moans became yells as Adrian started to run the edge of the feather lightly over his cockhead. He didn’t know which was worse: the leather glove holding his cock, or the feather tickling it; either way, he was back to pleading again immediately. His cock jerked and his pelvis tried to thrust as the soft feather teased over the shaft, ridge and head. The need to cum was a physical thing – an urgent, compelling need that encompassed his entire body. Every bit of him from his fingertips to his toes was tingling with need. That feather was the most evil, insidious thing: it was making him need to cum more urgently with every touch, but at the same time it provided nothing like enough friction for him to be able to do so. His cock – oh fuck, his cock felt enormous, and on the very edge of the best, most intense orgasm he would have ever experienced in his young life. It had to happen! NOW!
Adrian unzipped his leather jeans, got his cock out, and started to wank himself while getting off big time on the boy’s unbearable need. This was what he lived for. He continued to tease Jason with the feather, concentrating intensely to make that need even worse. Very soon there came a stifled grunt, Adrian’s co-ordination faltered and the feather’s movements became erratic as he came. His legs went weak, and spunk arced through the air, most of it landing on Jason’s thigh.
Seeing Adrian cumming when he needed orgasm so badly himself, was more than Jason could take. The edge of the feather, jerking madly in Adrian’s fingers, flicking over the very tip of his cock; the straps holding him down helpless to the table; the dildo sending waves of irresistible encouragement through him; even the sight of Adrian’s shiny black leathers and the sadistic expression of the mask, with the grey eyes open wide and focussed so manically on the desperate cockhead as if to gather in every last bit of his suffering – all of this suddenly seemed perfect, and the most horny things he’d ever experienced. “Please – kiss me. Hard,” he whispered.
With his cock still in his hand, Adrian leaned over and crushed his lips to Jason’s. They kissed – and, with nothing now touching Jason’s cock at all, the boy came.
His cock jerked once, the head waving in the air as a single gob of spunk erupted – but then, with all further stimulus being withheld, it immediately slowed to a thick trickle which was inhumanely unsatisfying. He was cumming, but he wasn’t. At that moment, more than anything in the world Jason needed that slippery leather hand to grip it and wank it fast. But the hand was not there. Trying to thrust his hips against the tight strap as hard as he could, he wailed in desperation. The frustration was unbearable.
Gradually even the trickle stopped, leaving a vast reservoir of spunk still in his balls. The initial, acute need for ejaculation had gone, but the chronic ache for the relief of orgasm was, if anything, even worse. Jason lay on the table, whimpering.
Adrian sighed in satisfaction. “I’ll be back soon.” He turned and left the room.
The dildo was still switched on, and Jason lay there moaning as spikes and waves of pleasure reminded him every second how much his body needed relief.
It was half an hour before Adrian returned.
* * *
Jason discovered that the steel table to which he was strapped down had articulated arms. So far they’d been positioned so that his hands were twelve inches or so away from his sides, but now he jumped as they began to move. When they stopped, his arms were pressed against his sides.
Without speaking, Adrian picked up two electric toothbrushes. He moved closer, concentrating, and switched them on. Then he pushed them slowly deep into the boy’s closed armpits.
Jason screamed. Oh fuck that tickled! Reflexively, he pressed his arms even tighter to his body, but that only made it worse: it made the things tickle even more intensely. He couldn’t get away from them and they were driving him insane.
Adrian moved them up and down, rotated them. Every movement brought new shrieks of ticklishness.
The strange thing was that Jason’s intense horniness, along with the electric dildo that was still working on his prostate, gave even this unbearable tickling a compelling eroticism. Under other circumstances he’d have simply been screaming with ticklishness, but now – although he was indeed doing that – he was also aware that it was renewing his need to cum.
After what seemed an eternity Adrian pulled them out, and applied them to the boy’s inner thighs and to his balls. This was every bit as bad. The leather straps creaked as Jason struggled to get away from the unbearable tickling. Or to make it tickle even more – his brain was so confused at the moment that he didn’t know what he wanted. Except to be able to cum. His cock was waving in the air, jerking every few seconds.
After a while Adrian put the toothbrushes down, picked up the lube and spread it over Jason’s body from the top of his chest down to his feet. Then he climbed onto the table, and, being very careful not to allow anything at all to touch the desperate cock, lowered himself onto the boy.
Jason groaned as he felt the cool black leather jacket and jeans make contact, and begin sliding over his skin on the film of lube. His cock was now being pushed downwards by Adrian’s leather crotch – which felt amazing – but it was only touching the very base of it. Having another guy, in full leather lying on top of him should have felt kinky, perverted, and repulsive. And it did – but at the same time it felt wonderfully horny.
Jason had long ago given up trying to analyse his feelings about what was being done to him; now, encouraged by his horniness and that damned dildo, he went with it. In fact it was more than that – he was getting into it. A lot.
When Adrian’s face came towards him to kiss him, Jason raised his head to meet it, and licked the leather of the mask before it reached his lips. Adrian paused, allowing him to do that for a few seconds, then kissed the boy. Unlike the last time, which had been aggressive, this kiss was gentle, and slow. And Jason responded in kind.
Adrian straightened up to a kneeling position astride Jason’s waist, lowered his hands, and jabbed stiff fingers hard into the boy’s sides. He probed and moved the fingers sadistically.
Jason shrieked. The toothbrushes had been bad enough, but this was tickling of a different kind, and of an entirely different order. This was pure torture. His body bounced in the restraints as Adrian found ever-more unbearably responsive spots: above the hip bones, just below the bottom ribs, further forward, further back. The smooth leather-gloved fingers slid in the film of lube, driving the boy to distraction.
After the sides came the ribs, the fingertips sliding between them, then the sides of his pecs. They worked themselves into the closed armpits in spite of Jason’s desperate struggling to keep them out, and once there they tickled madly. Every new spot the hands landed on seemed to be worse and more ticklish than the last.
Then they moved down the table and worked on the thighs, the muscle just above and to the sides of the knees, and the calf. Quickly, Adrian hopped off onto the floor and began on Jason’s feet. Unsatisfied that his leather-gloved fingers were too smooth to elicit the suffering he required, he slipped on some pointed metal talons from the table and raked them down the boy’s soles.
Jason was in purgatory. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t even begin to take it. He wanted to pass out – and he undoubtedly would have done so had not the dildo been keeping him close to cumming all the fucking time. As it was, he was in a confused mind-swirl of simultaneously needing it to stop NOW, and also revelling in an unspeakably intense fire of horniness.
The fingers left his feet. Adrian removed the metal spikes and set about tickling Jason all over his body manically and sadistically. Armpits, sides, ribs – the stiff, slippery gloved fingers raking up and down them through the lube – abs, thighs, balls, knees, everywhere. Jason squirmed, writhed and struggled under the onslaught.
Eventually it stopped. Adrian smiled as he saw that Jason had pissed himself at some point, though how he’d managed that with such a hard cock he didn’t know. He got his own cock out again, and had another wank as his left hand probed into the boy’s side once more, hard. The screams were music to his ears.
* * *
Jason had lost track of how long he’d been in the installation. The two guards had arrived at intervals between the torture sessions and had fed him or had dragged him to the bathroom, being very careful not to allow anything to touch his cock. He’d slept, restrained in a cell. He felt bruised, and exhausted, but the single thing he could not get out of his mind was sex. Every waking minute when he wasn’t suffering on the table under Adrian’s hands, his mind was on sex. And not the kind of sex he usually thought about, which involved burying his face between girls’ big boobs. No, it was conjuring up images of being got helpless in some way or other and being edged or tickled mercilessly. It was always guys who’d got him, and they were always stronger than he was, always in shiny black leather, and always masked. No matter if he were on the table, or eating, or in the bathroom, or trying to get to sleep, he always, always needed to cum. So far, apart from that one ruined orgasm in the first session, he hadn’t cum once. His balls were so full that they ached.
* * *
“Put those on.” Adrian indicated the pile of gear he’d put on the table. He had already locked some kind of ring around Jason’s balls, and now stood watching as the boy picked up a pair of leather jeans. They were, as Jason found when he tried to put them on, very tight indeed. It took him a few minutes, lying on the floor, to get them pulled up properly, and he gasped as they slid over his hard cock. When he stood up he saw that it was pushing the black leather out into a huge bulge between his thighs. He ran his hands over them; the leather felt cool, smooth, and disturbingly sexy.
Next came a heavy black leather jacket. He pulled it on over his naked torso and did the chrome zip up until Adrian told him to stop. It was about halfway, and still showed the valley between his naked pecs. Boots followed – chunky bike boots with quick fasteners down their outsides. Adrian was about to tell him how they worked, but Jason had already figured it out.
The guy looked at him for a while. “Oh fuck,” he whispered, “you look fucking amazing in leather.” He squeezed his hard cock through his jeans.
He handed a black leather mask to the boy. “Now this.”
Jason turned it over in his hands, then pulled it over his head and fastened the rear zip. Unlike Adrian’s, this one only covered the top half of his face, leaving visible what Adrian thought of as his cock-sucking lips.
Adrian pulled a screen away to reveal a full-length mirror, and Jason gasped as he saw his reflection: fuck, he looked hot. He had a leather bomber jacket at home – that was the only leather he’d ever worn – but it looked nothing like this. He fucking oozed perverted leather sex.
“Now,” Adrian turned the boy around to face him. “There is a device around your balls. If I have any problem with you – any problem at all – I will press this button.” He showed the remote control in his hand. “And believe me, Jason, you do not want me to press this button unless you enjoy extreme pain. Remember that.”
He pocketed the remote, and pressed another button on the table. A few moments later the door opened and the two guards came in, with a struggling captive between them. As Jason watched, they got their victim onto the table, strapped him down, and left.
Adrian looked at Jason. “Make him suffer.”
Initially, Jason had no idea what to do, but then he smiled: of course he did. He knew exactly what to do.
It worked even better than he’d expected; to his surprise he turned out to be a natural. And he realised that using edging to make a victim suffer turned him on like fuck. His own cock was almost bursting out of his leather jeans as he worked on the victim’s desperate cockhead.
Jason was concentrating intently, using a finger and thumb to keep the victim as close to cumming as he thought possible, when he felt a hand reach around his waist. It unzipped him, and carefully extracted his cock from his jeans. Leather-gloved fingers held the base gently, and then started slowly wanking him, but only on the bottom two inches of the shaft.
Jason gasped, and a moan of pure lust came from him. He immediately found that he wanted to make the guy suffer even more acutely. He speeded his fingers up slightly, bringing the helpless victim even closer to cumming than he had dared before.
He knew that one more stroke would probably make the victim cum, so he let go of the cock. The yell of frustration that followed echoed around the room. And Jason experienced a wave of intense sadistic pleasure. At the same moment the hand around his own cock quickly moved upwards onto his cockhead and began to milk him. His body shook, and with a long, urgent groan, for the first time since he’d been at the installation, he came – properly this time. His legs almost gave out under him, and he gripped the metal table for support as his spunk shot out of his cock in powerful bursts. It continued until his balls were finally dry. That had been the best – and the longest – orgasm he could ever remember.
Adrian took over working on the victim while Jason collapsed on the stool. His mind was in a whirl. That had been something else. In the last hour he’d met a part of himself that he’d never suspected had existed: he had been sadistic , and he’d loved it. He’d intentionally made that victim’s need to cum as compelling, as urgent, as acute as possible – and then, equally intentionally, he’d denied all stimulus at the very last moment so that the frustration and need would be as intense and as unbearable as they could be. And he had fucking loved doing that.
He ran his hands over his leather jacket and jeans – even though he’d just cum, they still felt unbelievably sexy. The black leather shone in the overhead lights, it smelled wonderful, and it felt so horny under his fingers that his cock was beginning to get hard again.
Jason sat there, thinking about this new world of sex that had opened up to him. He looked over at Adrian, who was still working on the helpless victim’s cock, and realised that he was a very, very sexy guy indeed. He stood up, walked over, and put an arm around Adrian’s waist. His fingers ran over the hard bulge in the tight leather jeans. He found the shape of the head, and began to stroke it.
It didn’t take long. With a guttural moan of extreme pleasure, Adrian came in his jeans. He turned, and hugged the boy.
* * *
It was later. The victim had been taken away and Jason was alone in the white room. When the door opened this time, he stared. It was Adrian, still in full leathers, but without the mask. He was in his thirties, with dark hair, grey eyes and a sexy smile. He beckoned to the boy, and led him out of the room, down some passageways to a door in a corridor. Inside was a comfortable living room.
“So. You’ve been here a while now. I don’t usually have this talk with guys who are brought here – or in your case, who come here on their own – but,” he hesitated, trying to find the right words, “there’s something special about you. I… like you. And, you are a very fast learner.” A corner of his mouth lifted. Jason smiled at how much even that had lit Adrian’s face up. “And I fancy you like fuck . You have no idea.”
Jason thought he felt himself going slightly red.
“So, a proposition. How would you like to stay here, Jason? To join me? You probably wouldn’t approve of what my organisation does – though if you knew why, you may well not disapprove quite so much – but you don’t need to know all of that unless you want to. Suffice it to say that guys are brought here for interrogation. There are other departments here where that sort of thing is done in the more… traditional ways, but myself, I don’t use pain. Just the kind of things I’ve done to you – and it’s every bit as effective as the other departments.” He looked into Jason’s eyes. “I’m very sure that MI6 could get along perfectly fine without you. So, what do you say?”
Jason thought for a while, then he frowned. As he stared at the floor, his mind replayed all of those things that had been done to him. He remembered the intense pleasure he’d experienced from the edging, even from the tickling. But he had been captured by guards, brought struggling to that white room, and kept here against his will. He’d been strapped down, edged and tickle-tortured by a perverted and clearly gay man, fucked by an electric dildo… He remembered every bit of the repulsion he’d felt and the suffering he’d undergone at the hands of this pervert. He looked up at Adrian.
“I am not gay, Smallcock. If you think I’m going to stay here voluntarily and help you make helpless people suffer, then you’re wrong, and you can go fuck yourself.”
Those were the words that ran through Jason’s mind at that moment. They were the words that he could have said. But they were not the words he did say.
Instead, he smiled, nodded, and said, “Oh yes.”