By Hooder
Email: ukhooder@gmail.com

THE WILL

Jed couldn’t remember the last time he’d received a real, physical letter – apart from ASBOs, final demands and court summonses. The envelope was heavy, expensive, and cream-coloured. He tore it open and pulled out the single sheet. There was a fancy coat of arms at the top, and under it: “Wacklow, Futtle and Crun, solicitors”. For a moment he thought it was yet another problem, but as he read the letter, his face took on an expression of complete bewilderment.

A beneficiary? Of a will? Him? He read it again – and he had not the slightest fucking idea who Paul Oakes, of Somerfield Hall, Colingham, was. He’d never heard of him. Somerfield Hall was the big place in acres of its own grounds a couple of miles to the north of the city – he passed the gated entrance on his bike every time he went into town – but he’d never had any dealings with the guy who lived there. This was very strange. A ‘substantial amount of money’? He could do with some of that at the moment.

* * *

Jed parked his small motorbike next to a much bigger one outside the impressive front door. A liveried servant looked the boy up and down with distaste, then returned the letter to him. It seemed to be in order. “If you would follow me, please, Sir...” He held the door open. Jed stared: fuck, there were actual suits of armour standing by the walls. The servant led the way up an impressive staircase, along carpeted corridors, and towards the open door of a study – but before they got there Jed was directed into a side room. Two guys in black balaclavas stood there waiting. They searched the boy thoroughly.

One of them nodded. “No phone. No watch.”

Satisfied, the servant took Jed into the study, then retreated and closed the door quietly behind him.

The curtains were closed, but by the dim light of a couple of small floor lamps Jed could see that there were three winged armchairs arranged in a row, facing a large desk, on the far side of which sat an elderly man in a suit. Two of the armchairs were occupied; Jed thumped down in the third and parked his leg over one of the arms, his black leather New Rock boot waving slowly in the air. The room smelled dusty, as of ancient books.

“Ah, Mr. Davis. Pleased to see you.” The solicitor’s expression suggested that he was anything but pleased by the look of the boy. He glanced at a sheaf of papers in front of him, then removed his glasses and lay them on desk. “This is a somewhat… unusual reading of a will,” he intoned, “but I have detailed instructions from our client Mr Oakes on how it must be conducted.” He reached forward and pressed a button on the desk. There was a whirring noise and a white screen descended from the ceiling behind him. “Mr Oakes has entrusted a recording to me. He wishes me to set it playing, and then to retire and leave you all to watch it in private. To be frank, gentlemen, having already seen the recording, I am happy to do so.” Without any further ado, he pressed a second button and the lighting got even dimmer; then he started the player running, picked up his glasses and left.

After a brief flicker, the image of a guy appeared on the screen, sitting at the same desk in this room. He looked to be in his thirties, and wore a leather biker jacket over a white tee shirt. He gave an attractive smile into the camera.

“Hello everyone. Thank you for coming. My name is Paul Oakes. You’re undoubtedly wondering why I’ve got the three of you here. None of you knows me, but believe me, I know each of you. I know you all very well. And one of you will shortly be better off. Substantially better off.” He paused. “I have one million pounds to give to you.”

Jaws dropped and the three figures in the chairs looked at each other. In the dim light their faces weren’t clear, but Jed could see that the other two were wearing leather; they appeared to be bikers.

On the screen, Paul smiled. “First, I should tell you that I am dead. I won’t go into the gory details but I’ve been given three months, or thereabouts. They tell me it’ll be relatively painless, but there’s no treatment and I have no intention of spending what little time I have left in a hospital. And I wanted to do something interesting with my money. Secondly, I am gay. Not only am I gay, but I have several very fun fetishes – and one of them is leather.”

There was stunned silence from the chairs.

“Now, let me introduce you to each other. Two of you are bikers. The other one isn’t.”

The image on the screen changed. A house door opened, and a good-looking guy with long black hair emerged, carrying a silver crash-helmet in one hand. A tight leather racing suit clung to a body that was slim, but firm. Jed stared – the biker was fucking sexy. He couldn’t see too well in the dim light, but he thought he was the one who was sitting in the end chair – although it looked like he was in leather jeans and jacket now rather than a racing suit. On the screen, the biker opened the garage door and went in. A few moments later he reappeared on a large and sexy black motorbike. Jed recognised it as the one he’d parked his own bike next to outside. He closed the garage door, and got back onto the machine. As his booted foot put the bike into gear and he was about to set off, the picture froze.

“This is Robert,” Paul’s voice continued. “Twenty-four years old, computer analyst, compulsive biker, mainly straight, but has been known to come to his senses occasionally.” He grinned. The same frozen frame was apparently being displayed for him as he was recording this, because he let out a long, slow sigh of lust.

In the chair, Robert was squirming.

The picture stayed on the screen for a few seconds, then changed again.

This time a big, muscular guy with close-cropped hair and in a short-sleeved leather shirt with a Sam Browne belt, very heavy black leather jeans and high boots was attaching straps to a restraint frame in a playroom.

“Scott. He’s not a biker, but his life revolves around leather. He’s twenty-five, a PE instructor, gay, and works out every day – look at those fucking muscles… And he is very top.”

In the centre chair, Scott let out a deep-voiced grunt of surprise – that was his playroom.

The video ran on for a moment, then changed again. A small and extremely cute teenager with shaggy blond hair was sat on a park bench eating a sandwich and throwing bits to a group of pigeons that were pecking around him on the ground. His thin leather jacket was open, showing his slim waist under a clinging black tee shirt. His jeans were shiny black PVC, and they were skintight. Heavy New Rock boots were over those, and there was a studded leather belt around his hips. The picture froze again.

“Jed. Eighteen years old, blond, blue-eyed, and gorgeous – and he knows it. Lives in a council flat, occasionally does odd jobs when he feels like it, but mainly he lives on money he gets from selling his body.

“So fucking what?” Said Jed with a yawn.

The picture now showed Paul Oakes again, sat behind the desk. He was beaming at the camera. “So, now you’ve met the other players in my little game. Ah yes, my little game. That’s why you’re all here.” He paused teasingly.

“The game is all about cumming. Or not cumming.“ He breathed a sigh of pleasure. “And cumming is a subject you three boys know all about, isn’t it?…” Even though it was a recording, Paul’s eyes looked out from the screen, scanning the three armchairs as if he could see their occupants. “The game is quite simple: the time starts at mid-day today, and ends in twenty-four and a half hours, at mid-day thirty tomorrow.” Paul smiled slowly. “In that time, you three boys are going to make each other cum.”

There was uproar. Robert jumped up, his fists balled. “What the fuck is this? If he thinks I’m gonna -”

With excellent timing Paul said loudly and slowly, from the screen: “One million pounds...”

The uproar died abruptly and, and after a moment, Robert sat down again.

“Now, it took me a very long time indeed to select you three guys. I got it down to twelve, and then winnowed it down to you three. Over the last few months I have been watching each of you very closely, and I have to confess that I’ve done some slightly illegal things: cameras in your bedrooms, for a start; and I’ve investigated your lives – especially your sex lives – in graphic detail. I know everything there is to know about your sexual preferences, deviations, perversions, turn-ons and fetishes.”

There were murmurs again from the chairs. “What?” , “What the fuck…?” “Fucking cameras…?”

“Like me, all of you have a very healthy fetish for black and shiny gear.” He paused for a moment, then looked straight at the end chair. “Even if you think nobody else knows about it, Robert.”

Robert swallowed, but didn’t say anything.

“But in addition to that, each of you has a major, secret, sexual weakness – something that turns you on very much, makes it much more difficult for you to control yourself. Each of you has one, and they are all different.” He smiled knowingly. “You think that nobody else in the world knows about this little weakness of yours. Well I do, and I have chosen you three very carefully indeed because of them. That’s the main reason it took me so long to choose you.”

They waited in dreadful silence for Paul to elaborate, but he didn’t, and when he started talking again without saying more about those weaknesses, each of them breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Paul resumed. “Now, the game. Let me tell you the rules of the game. Picture, if you will, an empty box. At mid-day today, £244 and a few pence will be put into that box. Then, every two hours – on the hour – the amount in the box will be doubled. At 2 o’clock this afternoon it will have just over £488; at 6pm tonight it’ll have got to £1,953; at midnight £15,625; at 6 o’clock tomorrow morning there’ll be £125,000 in it; two hours later, at 8 AM, a quarter of a million; and at mid-day tomorrow there will be exactly one million pounds in it.

The first boy who cums will get nothing. The second boy who cums will get nothing. The last boy to cum will get whatever is in the box when he cums. To get the full million, the last boy must cum after midday tomorrow and before midday thirty.” Paul leaned forward to emphasise what he said next: “And in every case, it must be by someone else’s hand. Wanking yourself off at 12:01 tomorrow is not going to do it.

“For those of you who might not be fully clear about this, let me say it another way. One: You must all be made to cum by one or more of the others before twelve thirty tomorrow afternoon. Two: in order to get any money at all, you’ve got to make sure that you’re the last one who cums. Three: the longer the last one holds out without cumming, the more money he’ll get when he does.” Paul sat back. “There are no clocks in this house, no TVs, phones or radios, and you have no watches.”

The outraged murmurs had stopped; everybody was trying to understand how this worked.

“You are three fucking sexy guys - and, although I won’t actually witness it, thinking about what I am going to make you do to each other is going to provide me with a great deal of pleasure between now and my death. I don’t know whether your individual weaknesses will be discovered, and used against you to make you cum early while you’re doing everything you can to stop yourself, but just thinking about that possibility is making me hard right now.”

There were murmurs of outrage from the armchairs, and they were threatening to turn louder, but on the screen Paul chuckled. “Remember – one million pounds. One of you is going to be very rich, very soon.”

The murmurs died again.

“There is now nobody else on the premises apart from you three, but you’re being watched on cameras, of course – by some friends of mine. They will be responsible for handing out the prize money tomorrow afternoon.

“One more thing. In front of you on the desk you’ll find a small circular pad. It’s a sensor to detect when you cum. Stick it on your skin behind your ear please. Once it’s on, it will also detect if you remove it. If you do, you’ll be disqualified.

“Ok. That’s it. Have fun. Feel free to look around – there’s a room on this floor full of equipment you might find useful, you never know. Help yourself to food or drink from the kitchen or the bars, I’m sure you’ll find them – do whatever you want. You are the three sexiest boys I’ve seen for a long time. I fancy each one of you like fuck, and I’m going to have some wonderful wanks thinking of you forcing each other to shoot your spunk helplessly. And whoever wins it, enjoy the money.” He looked at an off-screen clock. “The game will begin at any moment. Have fun, boys.”

Scott was bristling at being called a ‘boy’ but he let it go.

Paul smiled at the camera for a few seconds and then the screen went white. The player clicked off.

The lights in the room brightened and the curtains opened on motors. The three guys looked at each other – now that Jed could see them properly he let out a breath: they were even more sexy than they’d appeared on the screen – especially that biker Robert. Suddenly, from hidden speakers came the ‘Ker-ching’ of an old-style cash register. Paul’s game had begun.

Jed and Scott picked their cum sensors up, looked at them, peeled off the backing layer, then stuck them behind an ear – but Robert threw his back onto the table. He jumped to his feet and headed for the door. “Fuck this! I’m outta here,” he snarled.

“Excellent...” It was a fair impression of Mr. Burns and it came from the middle chair, from Scott the PE instructor.

“Huh?”

“Well with you gone, Robert, it means that I’ve only got Jed to worry about – and I don’t think he’ll be a problem.” He sat back in the chair smiling, and quietly flexing his muscles.

Jed was about to say, “No way you’ll make me fucking cum, mate,” but he didn’t get the chance.

Scott continued: “I think you should be on your way, Robert. Nice meeting you.”

The biker stopped. If he left now he’d have no chance of getting anything at all. He went back to his chair and sat down again, hard. “Fuck that. I’m going nowhere. Deal with it.” He picked his sensor off the table and pressed it behind his ear.

Scott sat forward in his chair, the shiny black leather over his solid thighs reflecting highlights from the windows.

Jed stared. He doubted very much that Scott had an erection – he’d been as distracted, confused and cursing, as the rest of them - but the bulge in the guy’s jeans was unbelievable! It was enormous: it looked like he’d stuffed a large grapefruit in there. The black leather was tight and shiny and Jed badly wanted to touch it.

“Okay,” Said Scott. He looked over at the blond boy. “Well, Jed, I think you and me should make Robert cream his jeans. Get him out of the equation. I’ll hold him down, you milk him. What d’ya say?”

A corner of Jed’s mouth lifted in a sneaky grin. “Sounds like an idea to me.” The thought of making that gorgeous biker cum while the muscular Scott was holding him helpless, was giving the boy the beginnings of a hard-on.

Robert snarled. “Hey fuckers, you tryin’ to gang up on me? Jed and me could get you, leather man. Make you shoot your load. No problem.” He gave Jed a quick smile. “Yeah?”

Scott turned away in disgust.

The biker winked at Jed and tilted his head and his eyes towards the door. “I’m gonna have a look round. See you both later.” He got up and walked out, his leathers creaking.

Once Robert was out of earshot, Scott’s face took on a cunning expression.“We could get him. You and me.”

“Yeah, we could.” He had an idea. “How about summat to drink?” Asked Jed.

Scott’s face lit up. “Yeah. The fucker must have loads.”

“Ok. Go get some beer. I’m gonna have a pee, then I’ll see you downstairs and we’ll plan how we’re gonna get Robert.”

“Fuck yeah.” Scott jumped up and went in search of alcohol. Jed followed the leatherguy’s eye-watering bulge across the room and then listened to his booted feet going down the stairs. He stood up, went to the door and looked down the corridor. There was no sign of anyone.

Jed thought to himself. Each of the two other guys presented a problem: although Scott wasn’t bad-looking, he didn’t really fancy him, but that bulge was so fucking horny. And the guy was a PE instructor, for fuck’s sake: he had muscles like they were going out of fashion – he’d be able to hold Jed down and make him cum without raising a sweat. Robert the biker, on the other hand, was fucking gorgeous; Jed had got the beginnings of a hard-on just looking at him earlier. He’d have to stay away from that one. From both of them. But he couldn’t – unless they did each other, he’d have to make at least one of them shoot. Somehow. He shook his head: this was going to be fucking impossible.

The house was huge. Just on this one floor alone there were more rooms and corridors than he’d ever seen. He decided to go get something to eat and think about all this some more, try to come up with some kind of plan.

He found the kitchen downstairs, at the back of the house. He hadn’t seen either of the other two, and he helped himself to a slice of cold pizza and a cup of tea. He was sat by the window drinking it when he heard footsteps.

Robert came into the kitchen. “Hi Jed, seen anything of Scott?”

The boy shook his head. “No.”

Robert sat down opposite him, his gaze on the teenager’s legs. “Those jeans PVC?”

Jed looked down at his thighs. “Yeah.”

“They are fucking sexy.”

“I know. That’s why I wear them.”

Robert smiled and tilted his head. “You’re a prickteasing little bastard aren’t you?”

Jed nodded. “Yep.”

“Why not leather? You like leather, according to Mr Oakes.”

“Can’t afford leather.” He was trying not to look at the sexy biker.

Robert got up and made tea. “Want some more?”

“Yeah, please.”

The biker brought them over and sat down again. “So, what do you think about Scott?”

“He’s dangerous. Powerful guy.”

Robert nodded. “Yeah. I think the only way we’re going to get him is by surprising him.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Yet.” He drank some tea, then looked at the boy again. “So what’s your weakness then?”

“What’s yours?”

Robert laughed. “Yeah, we’re not exactly gonna tell each other, are we...” He gazed at the shape of Jed’s cock, which was clearly visible under the teenager’s shiny jeans. “You’ve got nothing on under those.”

Jed smirked but didn’t reply.

“And you’re getting a hard-on in there.”

Jed adjusted himself. “Fuck off. Just got a decent bulge, that’s all.” His cock was, in fact, getting harder by the second with this sexy biker sat there looking at him.

“Yeah right.” An evil smile appeared on his face. “You like bikers? Is that your weakness? I think this biker could make you cum very easily... ”

He got up. “Stay away from me.” He started to walk to the door.

“I don’t think so.” He got up too, grinning wickedly. “You’re hard. I could make you cum right now, boy.”

Jed suddenly legged it out of the kitchen – and Robert followed. The teenager was fast, and bounded up the stairs, the biker not far behind him. He shot down a long corridor, turned left at the end, and found himself in a large, empty room. And there didn’t seem to be any other way out. “Shit!” He waited for Robert to appear behind him, knowing with dreadful certainty that he wouldn’t last five seconds if that gorgeous biker got hold of him - he knew he’d cum on the spot.

But there was no sign of Robert. Jed waited, hiding behind the door and holding his breath, listening. His heart was racing and his cock pushing the front of his tight PVC jeans out. He swore to himself silently, willing it to go soft. He wished he’d put some underpants on today, but he hadn’t – he loved the feeling of going commando in these tight, thin jeans.

After a few minutes Robert still hadn’t materialised so he cautiously looked out. There was nobody there. Very slowly he tiptoed to where the long corridor met this one and looked around the corner. Still nobody.

A door was open halfway along – he’d run past it on the way here. He walked quietly up to it and put his head around the door frame. And stared. The walls and ceiling were covered in black leather, the floor was rubber, and the room was full of stainless steel equipment the like of which he’d never seen before but whose purposes were very clear. There were stocks; a table with leather restraints attached to it - at least it looked like a table, but it was currently vertical; frames on the walls – also with restraints; a cage; a hoist; another leather-covered table, this one with a hole in the middle of it; a dentist chair with straps; chains hanging from the ceiling; an ‘A’-shaped frame; a St. Andrew’s cross. Along the walls were shelves and hooks bearing all kinds of leather devices, and there was a small fridge in one corner. “Fucking hell!” He breathed.

“It’s called a playroom,” said Robert, appearing from behind the cross. Jed hadn’t noticed him in the dark. “Any of this could hold a struggling, cute blond boy helpless while a biker in tight leather jeans forced him to cum. Very slowly...” Robert waggled his leather-gloved fingers.

Jed legged it again. This time, Robert didn’t follow – but as he ran at random down the labyrinthine passageways, the boy heard evil laugher coming from that room. The image of the biker in his leathers standing there amongst all of that equipment, waggling his fingers, was bright in the boy’s mind – and a very sudden, massive hard-on had appeared in his PVCs. Then it struck him that Robert had also had a stonking erection.

Jed had no idea what to do or where to go. He hadn’t seen Scott for ages – the guy could be anywhere, ready to jump out at him, hold him helpless and milk him. It was hopeless. He decided the best thing to do was to explore the house more, so at least he’d know where to run. Slowing down to a quiet walk, he began to move through the house more systematically.

Scott was at that moment climbing the stairs quietly. There had been no sign of the other two, but he wasn’t especially worried: he knew that he could take Robert on without too much trouble, and the kid would be no problem at all.

He passed an open door and looked in. Wow, he thought – a playroom. He went in and started to look around. This was one very well-equipped playroom indeed. There was a table in the centre of the room, stainless steel, with leather straps hanging from it. It was vertical at the moment, but he saw that it was movable. The pivoting system was interesting: electric, by the look of it, and it seemed to be controlled from a panel near the --

Suddenly the lights went out. Scott yelled in surprise and jerked upright, but before he’d completed the action he felt the click of the padlock at the back of the leather hood that had just been pulled over his head. “FUCKERS!” He yelled. He lashed out blindly but his fists hit nothing.

“Where are you, you bastards?” He stood, legs bent, muscles tensed, ready to fight, but there was no reply. He listened, but he couldn’t hear anything through the thick leather. At any moment he expected to feel arms grabbing for his, or a strap going around his legs – but there was nothing. Then he did hear something – was it quiet, leather-muffled laughter?

Nothing happened. He felt for the lock at the back of the hood, found it, pulled hard at it, wrenched it. But it was far stronger than he was. He tried tearing at the hood, but he knew there was no way he was going to get it off.

He stood there, fuming, wondering what he could do. This room, with all its restraints lying about was, he decided, the most dangerous place possible for him to be with this hood on: anybody - even the kid - could get him totally helpless if he was clever about it. Feeling with his hands he searched for the door, expecting to be tackled at any time. But he wasn’t. It took him a while, but eventually he found it. Following the wall he went back the way he’d come, towards – he hoped – the stairs. There would be some kind of implement in the kitchen he could use to get this thing off his head.

He gasped and almost fell as his left foot made contact with nothing. He was at the top of the stairs. Very carefully, and as silently as he could, he walked down them. Why had the guy who’d got the hood on him not tried to make him cum there and then, he wondered. Whoever it had been – and he guessed it had been the biker, Robert – was playing with him. The fucker. As soon as he got this off he intended to find him and milk the bastard there and then.

Again he tried to get it off, but he couldn’t. And as he took the stairs one at a time, the crotch of his leather jeans was getting even bigger. It was changing shape: the bulge was enlarging and becoming more roundly pointed, the black leather stretching as the huge cock under it got harder.

Jed was still exploring the house. It had taken him a long time to do the ground floor, and he’d found a second staircase. Now he was starting on a more detailed survey of the first floor. He recognised the corridor that led to the study where they’d all seen the video, so he looked down other ones. The whole place was like a maze, he thought.

Just then he heard quiet footsteps, and immediately he was on his guard. They seemed to be coming from the front stairs. He walked forward silently and looked down over the bannister rail – and stared in surprise as he saw Scott feeling his way slowly down. A leather hood was locked on over his head! Robert must have done that. Where was he going? Jed bet that he was trying to find something to remove the hood with. The kitchen. There were knives there. That must not be allowed to happen. Hooded, the muscular guy was much less dangerous. Quickly, Jed bounded down the stairs past Scott, and headed for the back of the house. As he’d passed him the boy had seen that the big guy’s bulge was twice the size that it had been - he had a massive hard-on in his leather jeans. Could it be that this big, strong top was secretly into being hooded?

In the kitchen Jed searched all the drawers and cupboards, and cleared them of anything that Scott could possibly use to remove the hood. He put everything into a bag and hid it in a bin outside the back door.

He’d just got inside again when a zombie-like figure appeared in the kitchen doorway, its arms were stretched out in front of it, and it had a featureless, black leather head. Jed froze, and kept absolutely silent.

Scott lurched inside and felt around. He found a drawer and cursed: there was nothing of use inside – the only things he could feel were drying cloths. One by one he went through the others. Then he tried the cupboards, searching everywhere. Finally he let out a muffled roar of frustration - there was nothing at all he could use. He tore in rage at the hood.

“You can’t get it off, can you...” Said Jed tauntingly, keeping the kitchen table between them. “Can’t see a fucking thing… I’m looking straight at a pair of scissors that could cut that hood off easily,” he lied. He chuckled, and moved slowly around towards the door. “But you don’t know where they are, do you… Can’t see them because you’re hooded...”

“Bastard!” Scott was fuming – but his leather jeans were bursting with hard cock. “Please. Please Jed. Help me to get this off. We can get Robert together. I’ll help you.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He thought about trying to make the guy cum right now, but his arms were still free and there was nothing lying around to tie him up with – assuming even that he could. Then he had an idea. “Tell you what - I’m going upstairs now. If you can find me I’ll take it off for you.” He left the kitchen and walked towards the stairs, leaving the leather guy shouting impotently after him.

He stopped at the bottom of the staircase and waited for Scott to come after him, then went up the stairs slowly, staying ahead and keeping one eye out for Robert – he had no idea where the biker was now. Scott followed him blindly, running his hand along the wall as he did so.

Jed led him down the corridor and towards the playroom. His idea was to get the guy more thoroughly restrained, and make him cum. That would be one very dangerous opponent down and then he could concentrate on the sexy biker.

Scott was walking very slowly down the corridor towards him, his muscular thighs moving the huge leather bulge from side to side with each cautious step. Jed checked that Robert wasn’t still in the playroom, and then ducked inside. He took a long leather strap off a shelf, along with a pair of handcuffs, and waited.

Scott went past the doorway. Jed knocked the buckle of the strap in his hand against the metal table with a loud clink. A moment later Scott reappeared, felt around for the doorway and came slowly into the room. Jed guessed he had no idea where he was. Framed in the doorway, his muscles looked even more impressive, Jed thought. That was one powerful guy.

“You in here, Jed?” Scott’s voice was muffled under the thick leather. He was feeling around and his fingers found some kind of frame.

A hand on his crotch. The hand squeezed his cock bulge. It jerked in response. He lashed out but the hand had gone. Where was the bastard? He turned, hitting the air with his fists. The fingers came from nowhere, giving his cock a quick squeeze, encouraging it. He twisted and lashed out again. Then he held his breath and listened. Nothing. He knew that he was fully hard now – he could feel his erection straining against the tight leather of his jeans all along the top of his thigh. Fingers darted in, squeezed the head briefly and then were gone again. He felt his cock give another jerk. This wasn’t fucking fair – he’d worked out every day for years so that he was big and powerful – but his muscles were useless because he couldn’t fucking see. He cursed the fucking hood. A hand again, this time from behind, teasing between his thighs. Reflexively, Scott clamped his legs together to trap the hand but it had gone. Another one came from the front at the same time though, and gripped his steel-hard cock, milking it with short, fast strokes for a moment. Then it was gone again. “Fucking cunts!”

Jed was watching him very carefully, darting in and out silently to tease the big guy’s bulge. The size of it was making his eyes water and he found the sight unbelievably horny. He wanted to feel it properly and at leisure, to lick it, and more than anything else he wanted to slide his naked cock over that sexy black leather bulge. He waited until Scott was about to bump into the table, then teased him quickly between the tops of his thighs again to make him close his legs together, and threw the strap around the leather guy’s boots. He got the end through the buckle, and pulled it tight.

Scott stumbled as his legs were pulled together and he lashed out, but as Jed was staying low, he missed.

Jed felt the tongue of the buckle slip into a hole. Immediately he got the cuffs, waited until an arm came within range, and clicked a cuff onto the wrist.

“CUNT!” Scott flailed from side to side, the empty cuff flying through the air and narrowly missing the teenager. Unsteadily, he started to bend down to get the belt off, but a touch of Jed’s hand on the top of his hooded head made him straighten up again quickly.

A figure appeared in the doorway. Robert. Seeing what was going on, he raised his finger to hip lips and sneaked forward. Then he caught Jed’s eye, pointed to Scott’s erection, then to Jed’s hand, and made a grabbing motion.

Jed nodded. Staying as low as possible, he reached out and grabbed the guy’s massive cock again through his leather jeans.

Both of Scott’s hands came down, and before the big guy could realise what was happening Robert grabbed the empty cuff and forced it around the other wrist. It clicked, and the leather guy was now handcuffed as well.

At Robert’s silent suggestion, and avoiding the still-flailing arms, they pushed the muscular guy up against the metal table, and then fastened a couple of leather straps around it to keep him there. Once that was done they took their time and used ropes to pull Scott’s wrists and ankles close enough to the table’s cuffs to get them buckled in.

They stood back and gave each other a high five – Scott was hooded and helpless.

With difficulty, Jed forced the zip of the guy’s leather jeans down. A truly enormous cock sprang out. It was long, wide, and as hard as steel.

“Fucking shit! Look at the size of that!” Said Jed. Both boys were staring at the huge cock. “Jesus.”

“Now that is impressive. I didn’t know they made them as big as that,” Robert chuckled. “And I’ll tell you something else - I think our leather top likes being helpless. I think that’s his weakness. Let’s restrain him a bit more, shall we?” After a short exploration he found the control panel for the table and made it revolve to horizontal.

For the next ten minutes they added more and more leather straps. Over his arms, his elbows, his chest, stomach, his thighs, his knees, his legs and his feet. By the time they’d finished he was incapable of moving an inch. And as each new strap had gone on, Scott’s cock had seemed to get even harder and even bigger.

Jed couldn’t take his eyes off that huge cock. “Shall I do it, or d’ya want to do it?” He asked.

“You do it. I’ll watch. And make it slow. Make the bastard suffer.”

“Ok.” The teenager took the head of Scott’s massive cock between a finger and thumb and started to work on it very slowly. “Need lube,” he said. There was no precum yet.

Robert found lube and poured some onto the glossy head. Jed went back to work on it while the biker moved closer, bent down and whispered into the leatherguy’s ear.

“We’ve got you fucking helpless, and we’re gonna make you cum. Struggle if you want but those muscles are going to do you no good now. Those straps are even stronger than you are.”

Jed continued to slide his finger and thumb over the lube-slippery head, no faster than before. Precum was now oozing out of it.

Scott was shaking his head. “No! You fuckers! Nooooo!”

Robert went to the head end of the table and suddenly clamped his hands tight over Scott’s hooded eyes and mouth, cutting off his air.

The cock jerked urgently and Robert smiled. It was becoming more and more obvious that being restrained helpless was Scott’s weakness.

Jed could feel that the guy was very close, so he took his fingers away. Scott let out a muffled moan of frustration and thrust his pelvis madly. After a few moments the boy resumed working on the cock, his fingers now sliding slowly and teasingly in the lube and precum as the big guy gasped for air under Robert’s gagging hands, which were still pressing the leather hood tight to his face.

The teenager was enjoying this. To have such a powerful hunk so horny and under his control was wonderful. He started to stroke the bull balls lightly as well, to make things even worse for him. The sight of them hanging there below that horse cock was mesmerising. He couldn’t wait any longer. His hand was moving even more slowly than before, but this time it didn’t stop – and suddenly Scott’s body tensed and he held his breath.

There was absolute silence for a couple of heartbeats and then, with a scream that was part acute pleasure and part rage, Scott came. His spunk shot out, showering Jed’s milking hand, running down it and dripping onto the table top between his thighs.

He was writhing in the straps, his huge muscles tensing under the black leather. “You fucking bastards!”

Hidden speakers came to life above them. “First to cum: Scott.” So the sensors were working, apparently, thought Jed.

Jed milked the last drops out of the still-jerking cock, listening for more from the speakers, but they were silent. When Scott had come down, and was breathing normally again, Robert produced a key and removed the hood.

Scott looked up at them, staring daggers. “You fuckers,” he said.

“Now be nice, or we’ll leave you here. Think you can get free from all those straps?” Jed smiled.

Scott’s head dropped back in resignation until it rested against the padded table, and he sighed. His cock was visibly softening, but it didn’t seem to be getting that much smaller. “Ok. I lost that one. Which one of you wanked me off? He looked at their hands and noticed the spunk on Jed’s. He smiled ruefully. “You did, Jed. Well, it was a good one.” He sighed again. “All right, I promise I’ll be good. Get me off this thing please.”

Jed and Robert looked at each other, then set about releasing him.

“So,” said Robert, “it’s just you and me now, boy.”

“Seems so.” Jed hid his erection behind a hand. He also noticed that Robert was doing exactly the same thing.

Robert sighed. I’m hungry. Why don’t we all go downstairs and have a proper meal and a rest? Call a truce for half an hour.”

Jed was not convinced that the biker would keep to any truce, but the idea of something to eat did appeal.

“You don’t trust me. That’s Ok. I don’t trust you either.” He laughed. “But we still have lots of time – and the longer I leave it before I make you cum the better.”

They went downstairs and into the kitchen. “Where’s all the knives?”

“Ah,” said Jed, opening the back door. He rummaged in the bin and took out the bag. “I hid them from Scott.”

“You’re a proper little bastard, you know that?” Said Scott.

“It was horny watching you staggering about. Knowing that you couldn’t see a fucking thing, and how badly you wanted to.”

Scott chuckled. “It was horny from the inside too, mate, I can tell you.” In truth, it had been fucking wonderful, he thought.

*

Jed looked at his wrist and then remembered they had no watches. “I wonder what time it is.”

It was dark outside, so it must be late evening. Jed had spent the afternoon hiding from the biker and getting to know the layout of the house better. He’d ended up in the kitchen.

Robert was chopping some onions again. The meal they’d had earlier had been quick, but good. Robert enjoyed cooking, it seemed. He looked up at Scott. “So is that the weakness that Oakes was talking about then? You’re a top but you secretly fantasise about being got helpless?”

Scott looked away for a moment, then back at them. “Yeah.”

“Nice one.” He turned to Jed. “What’s yours, sexy boy?”

Jed just smiled.

Scott looked at Robert. “Even though I’ve already lost, it seems I can still help one of you to get the other one. Hold him down.” He looked from one boy to the other. “Now, which one will I help, I wonder...”

Robert looked up from the onions. “I don’t think I need help, thanks. I can make blue-eyed blond boys cum easily enough on my own.” He gave Jed a sexy smile.

“How about you, Jed? Robert’s bigger than you are. Stronger. You think you could take him?”

Jed wasn’t at all sure. It would call for subterfuge of some kind. “What kind of deal did you have in mind?”

Scott thought for a moment, then smiled. “Ten thousand. There must be much more than that in the pot by now.” He gestured to the darkness outside the window. “It’s late already.”

Jed considered this. He wanted every penny of whatever he could get. He needed it. “Thanks, but I’ll take my chances.”

Scott scratched his head. “Ok. Well I’ll just hang about and watch then. I’ll be around if anyone needs muscle.”

An owl hooted outside. Robert smiled – he’d read somewhere that in the UK at least, all Little Owls hooted on the note of B flat for some reason. He thought that was cute. Scott had insisted on tidying the kitchen up after the meal – the other two had been for leaving it as it was.

They’d gone their separate ways after dinner. Robert had visited the playroom again and taken a couple of things from there. He was now padding quietly along a corridor he hadn’t come across before, on the first floor. At the end of it was another staircase – it was narrower and not as thickly carpeted. Probably used to be the servants’ stairs, he guessed. There was a door at the top, and he was about to open it when a sound from below stopped him. He bent down to look along the corridor and saw Jed go into a room on the right. Slowly and silently Robert came down the stairs and poked his head around the door frame.

It was a bedroom, though it looked like it hadn’t been used for a long time. The boy was stood looking out of the window into the dark outside. He jerked as he saw Robert’s reflection in the glass and turned round quickly.

Robert smiled and walked into the room. He closed the door slowly behind his back. “Hello, Jed. I think it’s time to milk you...” He walked forwards leisurely, showing the boy the two straps and the pair of handcuffs he was holding.

Jed’s eyes opened wide in panic and his eyes darted around, looking for escape.

“There’s nowhere to run, sexy boy. I’ve got you.” Robert was getting closer. Suddenly he dropped the restraints on the floor and made a dive for Jed.

Jed darted to the side, avoiding the biker’s hands by inches. He made a run for the door and grabbed the knob – but fumbled it and the fucking thing wouldn’t work. He wrenched it around further and it clicked open.

But Robert was behind him. He grabbed the boy around the waist and pulled him away from the door, down to the floor, his other hand reaching for the cuffs. His fingers closed around them.

Jed fought like a demon. The biker’s leather jacket and jeans felt unbelievably horny and his beautiful eyes were inches from his face. Fuck, he even smelled sexy. He felt a very rapidly-growing erection in his PVC jeans.

Robert was conscious of the very same thing in his own leathers as they rolled around on the floor. Every now and then the boy let out a yell followed by a short burst of laughter and frenzied kicking. For his size, the teenager was strong, but Robert was stronger. He grabbed a wrist and forced it behind Jed’s back, then managed to get one of the cuffs locked onto it. The other wrist followed after another bout of fighting, and then Robert strapped the boy’s ankles and knees together tightly.

He knelt there astride Jed’s hips, panting. “Got you.” For a moment he just gazed down at the beautiful boy beneath him – God, he was sexy, he thought. Jed was snarling up at him. The teenager’s cock was rock-hard under his tight, shiny jeans which, from Robert’s position, coincided almost perfectly with the hard, pointed leather bulge of his own. He remembered the strange laughing when they’d been fighting – and experimentally he tickled the teenager’s shiny thighs.

Jed screamed, struggling to get away from the fingers.

Robert smiled slowly. “Jed, boy – you wouldn’t by any chance be... ticklish… would you?”

Jed said nothing. His mouth was clamped shut around a snarl of fury.

“I think you are. I think that’s your weakness. Being tickled turns you on, doesn’t it...”

He stood up and glanced around at the room. This called for better facilities. He hoisted the boy to his feet, then grabbed him and lifted him over a shoulder. Staggering slightly under the weight of the struggling teenager for a moment, he pulled the door open and headed for the playroom.

Robert stood looking around, then saw what he wanted: the edging table. It was a steel table with a thin, padded top and a hole in the centre of it. He lay the boy on it, removed his New Rocks and PVC jeans (with difficulty: he had to keep moving the straps around his legs), then – being very careful to make sure that Jed had no chance of escaping while he did it – he strapped him face down with his cock and balls sticking through the hole. The boy’s feet were parted, and his wrists were beyond his head, a couple of feet either side of it. There was a wide, elliptical hole in the end for his face to rest in, and a strap that went over his head to hold it down.

Robert stepped back, surveying his handiwork. “Oh yes,” he said. He gave his cock a squeeze through his jeans. The boy’s blond hair looked sexy against the black leather table and he really really wanted to kiss the back of his neck gently. With a start he realised he was far too close to cumming, so he turned around and distracted himself by looking along the playroom shelves. He selected a few items and approached the boy again, listening to the curses and pleading that were coming from the table.

“Please, Robert. I need that money. I’ve got nothing. Please don’t do this.”

Slowly and sensuously, the biker lowered himself onto Jed. The boy still had his leather jacket on, but below that he was naked and he could feel the leather jeans as they made contact with his skin. He breathed out in pleasure.

Robert slipped his hands under the open jacket and teased his fingertips up into the boy’s armpits. The teenager screamed in ticklishness and desperately tried to close his elbows tight to his sides. The leather creaked, but he only succeeded in trapping the biker’s hands there – and the fingers waggled slowly.

“Does tickling on its own make you cum?” Robert asked.

Jed tried to control himself enough to reply. “No.”

“Perfect...” He slid his hands down and dug his fingers into the teenager’s sides hard, prodding and moving them about. Jed screamed and writhed under him, making the leather jeans slide over his naked skin. The fingers went further under the jacket again, moving slowly up the side of the ribcage, exploring between the ribs, reaching under to tickle the pecs and abs. The boy was going berserk, wrenching at the restraints and desperately doing everything he could to get away from the unbearable torture as Robert found ever more ticklish spots, pushing his fingers in and kneading the muscles. He found a pair of particularly unbearable spots halfway between Jed’s navel and his hip bones, so he kept his hands there and used his fingers on those spots, probing for a moment, stopping, and then repeating.

Jed screamed even more loudly every time he did this, but his cock, sticking down through the hole, was rigid and dripping precum. The boy had spoken the truth: tickling didn’t make him cum – but it made him need to cum more than anything else in the world.

Jed was humping the table madly, so Robert stopped to let him calm down.

The biker knelt up and worked on the insides of Jed’s thighs and the backs of his knees for a while, causing even more screaming. It seemed that the boy was so wound up that anywhere he touched him now made him yell and hump the hole in the table. He jumped off, took the two feathers he’d collected from the shelves, and began to tickle the boy’s bare soles. There were more desperate screams but the violently struggling feet couldn’t get away from the unbearable feathers, and within a few seconds Jed was humping the table again. He tried raking his fingernails over the soles. This made Jed shriek even louder, so he grabbed a foot to hold it still, and did it again. The foot twisted and fought violently as he tickled the soles, the arches, the heel, and in between the toes mercilessly. He did it for a long time.

Robert had had no idea that tickle torturing someone could turn him on like this - he’d never done it with anyone before – but the effect it was having on this gorgeous, helpless boy was making the biker need to cum almost as much as it was Jed.

“You really are ticklish, Jed. And it turns you on like fuck, doesn’t it...”

The feathers were no longer touching him and he was moaning through the hole around his head. “No… Please Robert. Please...”

“Tell me, is that your big weakness? Being tickled?”

Jed was silent for a while, then he panted, “yes.”

Robert smiled. “Are your cock and balls ticklish as well?”

This time Jed didn’t reply.

“Well there’s one way to find out.”

Robert lay on the padded mat beneath the table, adjusted his hard cock in his jeans – it slipped easily against the tight leather on a film of precum - and gazed up at the defenceless genitalia above him. It looked so inviting: as if it were begging to be played with, tickled, teased, milked. He took one of the feathers and stroked the pointed tip lightly over the boy’s balls.

He was rewarded with a scream and a lot of useless struggling. Jed’s cock jerked urgently at every touch of the feather. So did Robert’s.

The biker looked up at the boy’s face through the head hole. His eyes were pleading, he was running his tongue over his lips in worry, his blue eyes were staring, and a little blond hair was visible at the top of the hole. Fuck, thought Robert, you are insanely gorgeous.

He took the other feather and used it on the hard cock as well. Slowly he ran it up and down the shaft, over the head. It was difficult to target it accurately as it kept on jerking about so much, so he dropped one of the feathers and held the cock at its base to keep it still. He went back to working on it.

Jed’s eyes were tightly closed – he was trying not to look at the sexy biker underneath him, but he couldn’t stop himself for long.

“What’s this then? I heard the yells a mile away.”

Robert’s head turned - Scott stood framed in the playroom doorway.

“Ah, I see. You’re making it last.” He chuckled, and walked over to the table. “I think I can make it worse for him...” He lay down on top of Jed, taking is weight with his arms, one of the boy’s legs between his own.

Jed gasped at the feel of the leather between his thighs and at the huge cock bulge pushing against them.

“Tickle him - hard,” said Robert.

Scott raised his eyebrows. “Tickle him? Is that his thing then?”

“Oh yes, that’s his thing.”

Scott knelt up, his knee tight up against Jed’s perineum, and stroked his fingertips lightly over the boy’s leather jacket. Then suddenly he pushed his hands up under it and they were all over him, the fingers digging into his sides, ribs, armpits and hips.

Scott wasn’t as good at tickling as Robert, but even so Jed couldn’t take this. A beautiful sexy biker in tight, bulging leather jeans was edging him unbearably from underneath, and a big, muscular top in black leather and with an enormous cock bulge, was tickling him from above. It was too much. He felt himself getting ready to cum and he knew with certainty that he could do nothing to stop it.

Under the table Robert was working slowly on the precum-covered cock head. He knew how much all of this must be blowing the boy’s mind, and the way this unbearably horny sexual torture they were subjecting him to was making him struggle and fight and scream helplessly, was making Robert need to cum very badly indeed. He ran the feather in small circles over the glans and tickled the frenulum in ways that he tried to make as fucking unbearable as possible. Working on this beautiful, sexy, blond teenage boy was turning him on like never before. He saw the cock above him stiffen suddenly and knew that Jed was on the very edge of cumming. With utter sadism he stopped – and watched as he humped the table and screamed, out of his mind with the need to cum, but unable to.

That was a mistake. The violence of the boy’s frustration when he took the feather away, making it impossible for Jed to cum, and knowing that he’d been within a millisecond of orgasm, had got Robert to the edge as well – and then, as the biker shifted his left leg under the table, the feel of his leather jeans sliding across his cock pushed him over. He’d been about to tickle the feather over Jed’s cock head again, but suddenly Robert let out a loud, sharp groan. His fingers dropped the feather, and with alarm he realised that he was cumming in his jeans. Involuntarily he gripped his cock and squeezed it as his body jerked on the padded mat, his spunk erupting into the leather, his eyes staring at the blond boy’s face above him.

The speakers crackled to life. “Second to cum: Robert.”

Jed was still so close to cumming that it was a moment before he realised what that meant. Then he stared in amazement and shouted: “YES!”

The biker closed his eyes and swore.

“You?” Asked Scott, surprised. He stopped tickling Jed.

Robert threw down the other feather and climbed out from under the table. “Yes, fucking me.”

“Why? You’d got him right on the edge.”

“I know.” He looked at Jed, then bent over him. Slowly he lowered his head, closed his eyes as he smelled the blond hair. Then he brushed his lips over the back of the boy’s neck, and kissed it gently. He sighed in pleasure.

Scott opened his mouth in understanding. “Ah. You like teenage boys, I take it.”

Robert didn’t reply. He kissed Jed’s neck again, then stood up and went in search of a tissue or two to clean himself up with.

“If you must know, I like cute blond boys. And this one is the most sexy, beautiful boy I’ve seen for a very long time.” He was wiping his cock and the inside of his leather jeans. He zipped himself back up, still looking at the helpless Jed.

Scott smiled. “So,” he said, “Jed’s won this – or at least he will have done if one of us makes him cum. The way I see it, if neither of us does, he loses as well.” His eyes narrowed theatrically. “Jed – what’s it worth to make you cum?”

“Oh fuck off Scott,” said Robert. “Always on the make. Don’t worry Jed, I’ll make you cum.”

Scott laughed. “I wasn’t being serious. This whole thing has been a hoot. I’ve had a ball. I haven’t lost anything and I’m happy. The cash would have been nice, but there you go.”

Robert looked out through the small barred window. Dawn was breaking. He turned his head back to Jed, still lying on the table. “Might be an idea to leave it until later; you’ll get more cash that way.”

“Will you let me out of this please?”

“Oh yeah.” Scott climbed off the boy and helped Robert to unfasten the cuffs and straps.

Jed stood up, his cock – still hard – waving in front of him. He put his jeans and New Rocks back on, then sat down on the table. He patted it. “That thing is a fiendish instrument of torture. Fuck – being edged on that is unbe-fucking-lievable.”

Robert smiled. “Well, I’ll be happy to make you cum on it later if you want.”

Jed grinned, and Robert’s legs went weak. “Much as I’d like that, I think being naked, sandwiched between you two in your leathers, being tickled by Scott while I’m kissing Robert and he’s wanking me off – that’s what I want.”

“No problem,” said Scott.

“Oh, we can most certainly do that.” Robert was getting hard again at the thought.

*

It was full daylight outside now. Jed turned from the window and sat down with the others again at the kitchen table. They’d just had bacon and eggs, toast and coffee.

“How much longer do you want to leave it?” Asked Robert.

Jed frowned. “I wish to fuck we had our watches. What time d’you think it is?”

Scott looked out the window again and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been ages since dawn,” he said through a long, drawn-out yawn.

“Don’t start that or we’ll all go to sleep.” Robert chuckled.

“Come on then, let’s do it,” said Jed. “Don’t want to risk leaving it too late.”

“Ok. Where do you want to do it? Here?”

Jed looked around. “As good as anywhere.”

“Could we go up to the playroom?” Asked Scott.

“We could. Why?”

He looked slightly embarrassed. “Could I ask you a favour?”

Robert frowned. “Sure. What?”

“Could you lock that hood back on me while we do the boy please?”

The other two laughed. “Of course. You like the feel of the leather?”

“Well yeah, but I’ll really want to see what’s going on, and it would be horny if I can’t...”

Robert smiled. “Sure thing Scott. No problem.”

They went up to the playroom. Jed stripped while Robert locked the hood on Scott, and then they got the teenager tightly pressed between them. Jed gasped as the cool black leather made contact all over his bare skin and he stared into the biker’s eyes. Robert stared into his. They kissed.

Robert reached down and took the boy’s cock in his hand, and Scott started to tickle the teenager. Instantly Robert felt the boy convulse, and his cock stiffen. Very slowly he stroked it, trying to make it last as long for Jed as he could. But all this was more than the boy could take. He couldn’t hold out: Scott’s fingers were in his sides, in his armpits, tickling unbearably, he was kissing the most beautiful biker in the world, there was sexy black leather sliding all over his body, and Robert was wanking him off. And he could feel the other two’s hard cocks under their jeans – Robert’s pressing into his groin, and Scott’s enormous bulge between the cheeks of his arse. He began to fuck Robert’s hand, and he started to cum - far too soon. Jed’s body convulsed between them as he shot his spunk into the biker’s milking fingers.

“Last to cum: Jed,” announced the speakers.

The boy collapsed into the arms of the other two guys.

After a few seconds’ pause, the speakers came to life again. “In five minutes we will call you again. When that happens, please make your way up to the second floor. The stairs are at the end of corridor C.”

Corridor C? Robert hadn’t noticed any name signs on them. They took the hood off Scott, and after five minutes the announcement came. “The reward has been prepared. Please make your way to the second floor. Follow the signs to the end of corridor C.”

When they went out of the playroom they saw that there were indeed signs – well, they’d probably been there all the time but they hadn’t been lit up until now. There was a blue letter ‘C’ at the top of the wall of a corridor that crossed this one further down. It was where Jed had turned left into the dead-end room earlier when he’d been trying to escape from Robert. There was an arrow under the letter, pointing to the right, and when they got there, Robert recognised the narrow staircase at the end. They climbed it.

As they approached the top, the lock clicked and the door sprang ajar.

They found themselves in a bare room with a desk in the middle. On one side of the desk was a computer, and in the centre was a black wooden box.

They gathered around the desk, and jumped as the computer suddenly came to life. On it they saw Paul Oakes.

“Congratulations to whoever it was who was the last one to cum. I don’t know how much cash there is in there because I have no idea what the time is – I’m dead. But my friends were under instructions to sort it out for me. I trust them, and I think the proper amount will be in there. Whatever it is, you’ve earned it. Enjoy it. The box will unlock in a couple of minutes. First I want to say something.

“You probably hated the idea of all this at the start, but I really hope you had fun. I hope you got to know each other, and what each of your weaknesses are. I selected you three very carefully, and I think you will have had a horny time.”

He leaned forward. “Now, this house is not going to be used for a long time, but keeping it maintained is in my will. Spencer, the servant you met when you first arrived, lives here in a separate flat, and looks after the place. He will stay, but he keeps very much to himself. You, the three of you, are welcome to use this house whenever you want. You are welcome to live here if you want. I would like to think that you’ll want to see each other again, and play with each other. You’re very welcome to do it in this house if you wish. The cameras will all be removed by tomorrow.

“Lastly, I want thank you all. You have no idea how much pleasure I’ve had imagining you working on each other, knowing your weaknesses.”

Paul sat back in his chair. “Now, time to get your reward. Have fun.”

The computer screen went dark and the black box clicked. The three boys looked at each other. “Well go on then!” Said Robert.

Jed opened the lid slowly. Inside were three pieces of paper, some keys, and a wrist watch. The watch read 11:22. Jed lifted the papers out. He was looking at a bank draft for £500,000.

Jed’s eyes opened in wonder. Half a million pounds! Slowly he slid it to the side and looked at the other two papers. Each was a draft for £10,000. The first had Robert’s name on it, the second Scott’s. Jed handed them theirs and their mouths opened simultaneously.

There were also three keys to the house. Each had one of their names on it.

Back down in the kitchen they were still looking at the drafts. Robert had to explain to Jed what a bank draft was. After a long time they put them carefully into their pockets.

“So. We’re done,” said Scott.

Robert smiled. “For the moment. But there is a lot of equipment up in that room.”

Jed smiled as well. “Seems a shame not to use it. There’s loads of restraints to get a muscly leatherguy helpless...”

“Or to hold a cute boy still while we tickle the fuck outta him...” Grinned Scott.

“And I have a beautiful blond boy to do whatever I like to,” added Robert.

“Well let’s get started!” Scott stood up and headed for the door. “The first one there gets worked on!” He broke into a run.

There was a race for the stairs.