The Telemachus Story Archive

Teaching Tony
By Hooder

Teaching Tony

Although Tony had been shagging Mrs Wilson two or three times a week for the best part of a month now, he still couldn't get used to hearing his clock ticking through the wall in his own bedroom next door. He lay in post-coital silence, his head nestling between her ample breasts as she gently stroked his hair, the condom inside her full of his spunk, and thought yet again how wonderful this arrangement was.

When she and her husband Bradley had moved into the house next to his, Susan (or Mrs Wilson as he'd originally known her - he still had difficulty calling her Susan) had imediately set about seducing the cute, muscular teenage boy next door - much to Tony's astonishment. At 40-something, she wasn't exactly the type Tony usually went for, but fuck was she good in bed.

When she'd first come on to him, Tony had been worried that her husband would find out - but Susan had carefully explained that her relationship with Bradley was slightly unusual: in spite of her sophisticated middle-aged look, she said, she was Bradley's Mistress - and he was her slave. Tony had had a bit of trouble getting his head around this to start with, until he'd being invited to witness a 'punishment' session in which Bradley (wearing a leather hood and a slave collar) had been strapped to a beam and beaten with a paddle - and at the end of which, Susan had insisted that Tony fuck her in full view of the man. After that, the boy had become more confident about his own relationship with the woman.

The entire arrangement was perfectly satisfactory to Tony - he got as much sex as he wanted, almost whenever he wanted it - and her husband had no say in the matter whatsoever.

The only one who had a problem, in fact, was Susan: Tony was a nineteen-year old boy; he was permanently horny (which suited her fine) and his balls were always full of spunk. He normally jacked off two or three times a day, and whenever he fucked her he came in seconds flat. This was, as far as Susan was concerned, something that needed attention.

She twirled a finger through his spiky blond hair. "Tony," she said gently, "that was great. But we need to make it last longer." She raised his head, thinking again how beautiful he was, and smiled into his blue eyes. "I've got an idea that might help..."

Initially, Tony hadn't been too keen on Susan's suggestion - she'd said she was going to hand the boy over to Bradley, and that the man would teach him how to prolong the sex act: how to hold back from cumming so quickly. Tony sulked. He didn't see why there was a problem - it felt fine for him - and Susan had to explain that a woman needs more prolonged stimulation to achieve climax.

Although Tony was physically beautiful, he wasn't in fact terribly bright, and it wasn't until Susan gave him the choice of either complying with her wishes or finding someone else to fuck that it sank in that unless he agreed, he was going to lose this extremely pleasant arrangement. "Yeah, Ok," he said.

*               *               *

"You will teach the little bastard how to stop himself from cumming as soon as I look at him. I don't give a flying fuck how you do it, but do it. Understand?"

"Yes Ma'am." Bradley Wilson allowed himself a small smile. From the very first time that gorgeous boy from next door had fucked Susan he had been seething inside. Bradley had had designs on Tony from the first day he'd seen him - and then the little bastard had been snatched from under his nose by Susan. To hear them rutting like animals in the next room filled him with jealousy on two counts: that someone else was having sex with his wife, and that who she was having it with was that muscular, cute blond boy that he had wanted so badly.

But now he had a chance to settle the score. Madame wanted the boy taught - and Bradley knew just how to do it.

*               *               *

"Now, you're going to have to wear this for a week, and then there'll be a training session next Saturday."

"Huh? What the fuck's this?" Tony turned over the hard leather-and-metal device in his hands. It looked like a cross between a pair of leather underpants and a safe.

"It's a male chastity device. The first stage of the treatment is to go for a week without cumming. This will help you do to that."

Tony blinked. "A week without cumming? You mean without fucking anybody?"

"And also without jacking off."

This was unacceptable. In fact Tony thought it was impossible. He usually jacked off two or three times a day. Still, he thought, humour the man. Bradley had no control over what Tony did when he was on his own. "Yeah ok then. How's it work?"

"Best thing is if you jack off first - it'll be easier to fit if you're soft."

"Huh. Ok." As usual, Tony had a hard-on. He started to unfasten his jeans, and Bradley left him to it. "Give me a yell when you're through." The man went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, but the kettle hadn't even had a chance to get warm before Tony called. Bradley shook his head in wonder.

Carefully, Bradley pushed Tony's cock and balls through the stiff leather back-plate and secured them there with the small captive strap so it would be impossible for the boy to pull them out again. Next, the metal cage was fitted over his genitals, and locked tightly with three special triangular-headed screws. Finally, the whole thing was strapped around his waist immovably with a small but high-security padlock.

"There," smiled Bradley. "You can wash everything, and pee with no problem.

"Ok," said Tony, fastening his tight jeans again. The bulge produced by the device was startling. He liked it. The full realization of what the thing was going to do to him had not hit him yet - and wouldn't for about three hours.

But Bradley knew. And he smiled as he said goodbye to the boy. He placed the special screwdriver and the key in a very safe place.

*               *               *

The first inkling of what he'd let himself in for filtered through Tony's cute but thick head later that evening. He'd been lounging on the settee watching TV, and he suddenly realized that he was horny. Usually under such circumstances, he'd simply pull his jeans down and have a quick wank - but he remembered that he wasn't supposed to. So he just shifted his position and changed the channel.

Five minutes later he had to shift position again. His cock was demanding attention but he was determined not to give in to it.

Oh shit he was horny. Instead of making him not want to masturbate, this device seemed to be having the opposite effect: the strap around his cock and balls was making him more horny than ever - and the tip of his hard cock kept just touching the metal cage occasionally, sending shivers of erotic pleasure into him. He got up, made some coffee, and walked about.

It was no good - he was going to have to cum. Oh well, he thought, Bradley needn't know about it, and to show willing, he'd simply cut down on the number of times he jacked off. That would have to be enough for Bradley. He unzipped his jeans and peeled them down, then settled back in the settee for a wank.

Tony stared at the device in puzzlement. There was no way he could actually get to his cock with his hand. How the fuck was he going to jack off? He tried wrapping his hand around the metal cage and pulling it up and down, but that did no good. The mesh of the cage was too fine to allow the insertion of anything through it, and it appeared not to be possible to pull the fucking thing off. He sat back and thought. The only way was going to be to get the whole device off. He got up and hunted for a screwdriver.

The fucking screws had special three-cornered heads and wouldn't turn with an ordinary screwdriver. He tried a cross-head one, but that didn't work either.

Half an hour later he finally realized that without the keys, he was not going to be able to cum. And he had to have this thing on for a week? Today was Saturday, and he wasn't going to get it off until next Saturday. Oh fuck.

He didn't get much sleep that night. His cock was permanently erect, and his balls felt like they were slowly filling up with spunk. He tossed and turned and swore. His head was filled with horny thoughts, but he could do nothing about them at all.

The next day started off ok - apart from his normal early-morning hard-on, which went down when he had a shower, things were all right until about mid-afternoon. Then he sprang a raging erection and was suddenly desperate to fuck anything that moved. In an attempt to take his mind off it he went out on his motorbike - but the vibration of the engine between his thighs and the fact that town was seemingly full of sexy chicks today only served to make things worse. He went home and collapsed on the bed, beating his fists into the mattress in impotent rage.

It was not easy getting through the rest of the day, but he managed it somehow.

Monday was worse - he finally broke at 9pm that evening. At a run, he went next door and leaned on the doorbell. There was no-one at home.

Tony attacked the chastity device with every tool and implement he could lay his hands on - but nothing would even begin to unfasten it. He couldn't get the thing off - and he couldn't get to his cock. His entire crotch was swimming in leaked pre-cum, and he was desperate.

At midnight he heard the Wilsons arrive home, and within two minutes he was knocking at the door.

"Hello Tony," smiled Bradley.

"You gotta take this off me. I need to cum. Please."

"I'm sorry, but it has to stay on until Saturday. You agreed to that."

"But I didn't know.... oh please Bradley. Please. Let me jack off."

"I'm sorry Tony - Susan is calling me. I have to go." He closed the door.

Tony swore. Five more days. He would go mad.

He didn't go mad, but by Saturday morning he was more animal than human. He'd had practically no sleep for two nights, and a permanent erection for most of the week. His thoughts were constantly on sex, and he needed to cum more than anything else in the world. His balls felt so full of spunk that they almost hurt. He was desperate as he rang the bell next door.

"It's open. Come on in - I'm in the kitchen."

Tony let himself in and went through to the back of the house. Bradley was standing facing him, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of a pair of the tightest black leather jeans Tony had ever seen. They hugged him like a second skin all the way down his legs to the black leather bike boots buckled to his feet. He had a bullet-belt around his hips, and his gym-worked pecs bulged beneath a tight shiny black teeshirt. Tony could clearly see the man's nipples under the thin material.

"Hiya Tony," Bradley smiled. "Come over here and lick my boots."

Tony's jaw dropped. "Fuck off," he laughed.

Bradley ran the fingers of his right hand slowly over what Tony now saw was a rock-hard erection under the thin leather of his shiny black jeans. The man's cock jumped as his finger reached the tip. "Are you horny, Tony?"

I'm straight."

"Yes I know you're straight - that's not what I asked you. Are you horny? Would you like to cum? Would you like to wrap your hand around that horny young boy-cock of yours and give it a good hard wanking? You've got a week's worth of spunk in those balls - would you like to get rid of it?"

Bradley's soft, teasing voice, along with what he was saying, addressed the boy's most desperate needs directly - and, straight though he was - Tony felt himself responding. He was so unbelievably horny that he was actually finding the sight of Bradley in those skintight jeans, blatantly playing with his hard cock through the shiny leather, a turn-on.

"You know I'm horny," he said.

"Well, the first step on the road to orgasm is licking my boots. If you're not ready to do that yet, fine. Come back when you are." He turned round and put the kettle on.

Tony thought about it. Licking a guy's boots was deeply symbolic. To do that was to submit totally; and that was something that didn't come easily to a straight boy - not even to one as horny as he was at the moment. No. He was not going to do that.

Bradley turned around again, and this time he wasn't smiling. "Do you really want another week with that thing on?" He asked, pointing to Tony's bulging crotch with his head. "And without fucking Mada... Susan?"

Tony stood there in an agony of indecision: his cock was aching for release, and he knew there was no way in hell he could stand another hour - let alone another week - without cumming.

Slowly, he walked forward, knelt down, and began licking.

*               *               *

"Where's Susan?"

"She's visiting friends for the weekend," replied Bradley, guiding the boy upstairs and locking the front door on the way past. "She wanted to leave us alone here for the training session."

"What's going to happen?"

"I'm going to teach you to control your orgasms."


"Well, the first step was to get you horny and wanting to cum." He looked at the boy and raised an eyebrow. "You are horny aren't you?"

"Oh fuck am I horny. Yes."

"Good." Bradley opened the bedroom door and stood back to let Tony enter.

"Fucking shit. What's all this?"

"This is equipment which is going to help in your training."

In the centre of the room was a leather sling suspended from chains attached to hooks in the ceiling beams. To one side of it was a strange-looking device: it appeared to be a small, leather-covered table with two low 'arms' at one end, and restraint points in many places; and on the right, near to the wall, were two long chains dangling from the ceiling, each with a leather wrist-cuff on the end. Tony didn't like the look of this stuff at all.

Bradley had been expecting the boy's concern. "It's nothing to worry about. Most of it is simply to stop you from jacking off at the first available opportunity - because that would spoil everything and we'd have to start again. If you cum - at any time unless I give you permission - we go back to square one: another week in the device."

Tony had been running his hands over the hard, thick leather of the sling, but now he looked up at the man. Then he nodded.

"Right then. Let's get started. Strip, and we'll get that device off you."

*               *               *

Bradley raised the boy's wrists to head height and locked them into the shackles hanging from the chains, then spread his legs wide and cuffed his ankles to the steel rings in the floor. Only then, when Tony was restrained so that he couldn't touch himself, did Bradley very gently remove the chastity device, being careful not to touch the boy's hard, precum-covered cock even once. Released from its metal prison it waved in the air like a snake - the angry purple head searching for something to rub against.

He stood back and drank in the sight of the muscular blond boy chained helplessly before him. Fuck, the boy was gorgeous. For Bradley, this was dream come true - and he intended to make this little bastard suffer greatly.

Much as Bradley would have loved to hear the boy yell and curse, for practical reasons he would need to be silenced, otherwise the whole street would be knocking on the door to see what was going on - so he pushed a cock-shaped leather gag between the boy's teeth and strapped it tightly behind his head.

It was also going to be necessary to hood him - this time not for reasons of practicality, but intentonally to make it harder for the boy to cope with the torture that Bradley was going to inflict on him: the black leather over his eyes, blindfolding him, would make everything he felt much more intense; it would allow his imagination to picture sexy girls if he wanted to; it would make the boy feel totally, absolutely helpless - and so more horny - and therefore make him a lot more susceptible to the things Bradley was going to do to him.

Tony struggled and fought, shaking his head violently from side to side and yelling into the gag as Bradley, with a sadistic grin, pulled the black leather hood slowly down over his head. It was very large and loose, with a pointed top, and shaped so that at the bottom the folds of leather fitted over the boy's shoulders. Thin Velcro straps fastened it under his armpits. He'd decided on this hood in preference to smaller, tighter ones because Tony would be able to turn and move his head inside it, and Bradley knew from experience that when you needed to see, this made it intensely frustrating.

Having got the boy prepared, Bradley pulled up a small stool and sat down, Tony's cock at his eye-level. He picked up a single soft down feather and, reaching up, ran it lightly over Tony's left nipple.

Inside the leather hood, Tony had had no idea what to expect, or when - and the gentle stroke brought forth a yell of surprise. The feather teased over one nipple, traced slowly across his pecs, and then worked on the other. The soft touch made his nipples and skin tingle, and caused his cock to jerk in the air. Then the feather was gone.

He waited, holding his breath, not knowing what was coming. Being unable to see anything was hell - if he could have watched the feather approaching his armpit, he could have steeled himself against it, but when it touched, tickled there and then ran down his side, he convulsed. Tony was not especially ticklish normally - but he'd never been chained up helpless before, unable to stop it - and this fucking hood was making him completely defenceless against it. He struggled in his restraints, throwing his head about to try to dislodge the hood, but it stayed exactly where it was, his head thrashing about impotently inside the leather.

It was not Bradley's intention to tickle the boy - although that flick on his armpit had been too much to resist - what he wanted to do was sensitise Tony: turn the volume up on his nervous system. Using two soft feathers now - one in each hand - he ran them slowly and unpredictably over all of the boy's muscular body. A touch on his navel; then a stroke across the back of his right thigh; a caress on his left elbow; then along his back; a brush across his left calf.... Bradley worked slowly, with long pauses between each touch, so that the boy didn't know where or when the next contact was coming.

For Tony it was like the Chinese water torture - after each stroke his body tensed, waiting for the next, but being completely unable to predict it - and when it came it was devastating. He tried to control his reactions and keep silent, but at each touch he involuntarily gasped or yelled into the muffling gag. His whole body was tingling with anticipation, and he felt more sensitive, more alive, than he had ever done before.

Thick strings of precum slowly oozed from the tip of his cock head, stretching languidly before detaching and dropping to the floor between his spread legs. His cock was desperate, but the bastard hadn't even touched it yet. Tony was sure he was going to go mad with the need to cum.

For what seemed like hours Bradley kept working on him like this, stroking every inch of his body with the feathers - every inch, that is, except his cock, balls, and inner thighs. These he was meticulously careful to avoid touching. At long last Bradley put the feathers down, and pulled on a slick black rubber glove which he'd taken out of a small cooling cabinet by his side. With infinite precision, he cupped the boy's balls with the gloved hand and gently massaged them. Then, from underneath, he squeezed the solid root of Tony's cock where it began inside his body.

Tony screamed as the cool smooth rubber enclosed his balls, and the fingers stroked over and around them gently. He began thrusting his hips madly. Never in his life had he felt anything that made him want to cum as much as this. He yelled and pulled against his restraints, but the man followed his every movement, gently moving his cold rubber-gloved fingers around the spunk-filled balls all the time.

After a while he released them and, having waited a few seconds for Tony to calm down, picked up a long feather and slowly stroked it from the base of the boy's rock-hard cock up the underside of the shaft, stopping short of the head. This caused renewed hip-thrusting, and a fresh spurt of pre-cum oozed from the tip of Tony's cock. Bradley repeated the action, the soft feather gliding up the sensitive shaft maddeningly lightly, maddeningly slowly.

Pleased with the reaction the feather had caused, Bradley pushed the stool out of the way and squatted down between Tony's legs. Peering upwards, he very carefully stroked the tip up the inside of the boy's leg until it was as high as it could go - between the hanging ball sac and the skin of his thigh - then, after running it backwards and forwards along that crease, he made the point of the curved feather travel in circles: along one crease, over the back of Tony's balls, forward along the other crease, over the front of the balls, and repeat.

Tony could not keep still. The tickling, teasing feather was driving him insane - he needed to cum. He would have given anything for just one firm grip on his cock, one rub over the cockhead. This was pure torture. He yelled himself hoarse begging Bradley to make him cum, but his pleas were muffled into silence by the gag and the leather hood over his head.

How long this went on for Tony had no idea. Every second seemed like an eternity. The man was a sadist: he was doing everything he possibly could to make the already desperately horny boy need to cum more and more - but at the same time denied him even a single firm rub of his cock.

Eventually it stopped. Tony, blinded by the black leather over his eyes, waited in helpless darkness - his body alive with anticipation of the next unbearable touch - but nothing happened.

Bradley put down the feather, stretched, squeezed his own cock through his leather jeans, and decided it was time to move on. Taking no chances at all, he fastened a collar around the boy's neck, then lowered his wrist chains one at a time, and attached handcuffs which he fastened behind Tony's back once his wrists had been relased from the shackles. A short chain connected the cuffs to the back of the collar, preventing the boy from getting his hands around to the front however hard he might try, and also making him easier to handle if he decided to fight.

After releasing Tony's ankles from the floor chains, he guided the boy to the sling and got him positioned ready to slide back onto it. Next, he attached individual wrist cuffs above the handcuffs, and ran a rope from each to pulleys at the head end of the sling. Holding the free ends of the ropes in one hand, Bradley removed Tony's handcuffs with the other, and immediately put tension on the ropes, to control the youth's hands while he helped lift him onto the thick black leather sling. Tony slid back into place, and Bradley secured his wrists to restraint points above his head, well out of reach of the hood. After placing Tony's feet in the wide leather support loops, he fastened the two thick straps across the boy's stomach and chest. Finally he reached over and removed the collar and chain.

Tony was lying horizontally in the sling, his wrists manacled above his head, his legs - bent at the knees - wide apart on either side of the main support chains, with his arse exposed and vulnerable. His cock was lying against his stomach in a pool of pre-cum until Bradley positioned a thin rope around the base and pulled it until the horny dick was standing vertically upwards. He tied the rope off to the sides of the sling, stood back and nodded in satisfaction: the boy was ready for stage two.

To a straight boy, his arsehole - even more so than his cock - is sacrosanct. It is a decidedly no-go area for anyone other than a girl who he's having sex with - and even then it's often an edgy area. In Tony's case, it was even worse: he had never had it so much as touched by another human being since he'd been out of nappies. Bradley intended to exploit that taboo bigtime.

He began by working on the boy's balls again - this time with his fingers. He teased and tickled gently all over them, massaged them, stroked them, and ran his fingertips lightly over the boy's inner thighs.

Tony was making incoherent noises under the hood, and trying everything to get some friction against the rope holding his cock. The sensations were driving him mad again. Under the black leather his universe was beginning to contract, focussing gradually on his genitals. Nothing else existed: just his cock, his balls, and those unbearable tickling fingers. Then, suddenly, the teasing stopped. Tony held his breath, waiting... waiting...

... And then his universe exploded as the tip of a feather began to tickle the very centre of his arsehole. He had never felt anything like that before in his life: it was as if his very soul was being assaulted.

Bradley saw the boy convulse, heard the yell as the tip of the feather made contact with the centre of the pink hole, and smiled sadistically. YEAH! He'd been hoping for an intense reaction from this. Very few boys have ever had their arseholes actually tickled - even those who are into arse play - and it usually comes as something of a shock to them at just how intense it can be. Carefully pulling the boy's cheeks even further apart with the fingers of one hand, he danced the tip of the feather around the ring and then into the hole itself, fucking the boy with the feather.

Tony was beside himself - he was bucking around in the sling, struggling and yelling fit to bust. His mind was in a turmoil of mixed feelings and emotions: there was a guy - a guy - playing with his arsehole; it tickled like fuck; and it was turning him on like crazy. He didn't know whether to threaten and curse because he wanted it to stop, or to beg and plead for it to continue forever. He could feel rivers of pre-cum running down the shaft of his cock and he needed to cum! Oh fuck he needed to cum!!

But not enough for Bradley. Holding the horny end of a second feather between his teeth, he made it tickle up and down Tony's cock shaft at the same time as he worked on his arsehole.

At this added stimulus. Tony lost it completely. He began to hyperventilate, the leather of the hood ballooning out and then clinging to his face as he gasped for air; he struggled and fought his restraints with every ounce of his strength, making the sling rock and swing, and he screamed continuously into the gag.

Bradley watched the helpless boy struggling, his sexy young body covered with a sheen of sweat as his well-defined muscles flexed and strained, fighting to escape the unbearable torture - and made it worse by stroking the feather faster up and down the boy's engorged cock shaft, while continuing to tickle his sensitive arsehole.

Suddenly Bradley dropped the feathers and grabbed the chains of the sling for support - his eyes staring at this drop-dead gorgeous, insanely horny blond youth he'd got strapped helplessly into the sling - as he came in his jeans. His spunk jetted out into the tight leather and ran down his thigh, and his knees buckled. He hung from the chains, half-kneeling, as the final spasms died. That had been one of the best orgasms of his life.

After a clean-up and a cup of tea, Bradley was ready to begin stage three. In the ten minutes or so since the man had stopped working on him, Tony had calmed down and had got himself under control again - although his cock was still as hard as steel, and small noises of frustration were audible from under the hood.

Using handcuffs and ropes to ensure the boy couldn't touch his cock at any time, he took him down from the sling and got him positioned on the strange-looking table with low arms at the side. This was a device Madame had made him construct for his own cum-control torture, and was specifically designed to facilitate the most feindishly intense sexual frustration on a male.

Standing back once more, Bradley looked at the boy. He was lying face-down across the low table, kneeling on the low leather-padded 'arms' which jutted out at one end of it. His legs were strapped tightly to the arms, his thighs to the angled uprights, there were two strong leather straps holding his upper body down to the table, another one - even tighter - across his pelvis, and his arms were held immobile inside plastic tubes which were attached to the front uprights. A small padded shelf with an oval hole in it extended from the front of the table, and his head was resting on this. There was no need to fix his head in place - he was free to put it wherever it was most comfortable - and it was the only part of his body he could move more than a millimeter in any direction.

Bradley decided that there was no longer any need for the hood either - so he unfastened the Velcro straps and pulled the leather off the boy's head, smiling as the beautiful blue eyes came into view. They were currently fixed on the man with a look that would have killed him if it had been possible. Tony's spiky blond hair was tousled and damp with sweat. He looked good enough to eat.

"I'm going to have to make your cock soft for a minute so I can fix a small attachment and get it in the right place. I'm going to spray some cold water on it. Won't take long." He took a spray bottle from the cooler and doused the boy's rigid dick with it - bringing a gasp of complaint from the helpless youth. But immediately his cock began to lose its hardness.

When it was soft enough, Bradley pulled it backwards between the boy's thighs, and rotated a small bar which pressed against the base of the shaft and held it in place. Now it was sticking out between his thighs, at a slight downward angle.

That done, Bradley began teasing Tony's balls again very lightly, and within seconds the boy's cock was back to full rigidity - its angry head thrusting back towards the man.

It had taken several design stages to get this horse right, with Bradley having to test each one at the hands of his Mistress - and he knew from bitter experience that this current design was lethal. With the horny youth's cock held back in that position, and unable to move a muscle, Bradley knew that the boy was more sensitive and vulnerable to cum-frustration torture than in any other position: the slightest stimulation anywhere on his genitals would make him need to cum very very badly indeed.

Thus far, Bradley had been meticulously careful not to touch the boy's cock head with anything. He'd worked on his thighs, his balls, his perineum and his arsehole - but never once had that horny, desperate cock head been played with. Now, in that supremely exposed and sensitive position, it was going to be.

Pulling up the stool and sitting down once again to work, Bradley spent the next fifteen minutes teasing and tickling all the places he'd already worked on. He stroked the soft skin of the boy's inner thighs; he caressed the round, spunk-laden balls with his fingertips; he tickled deep into the creases between the lad's balls and thighs with a stiff, pointed feather; he pulled on the second cool black rubber glove, wrapped his hand around the cock shaft and worked on it with slow, gentle strokes; he tickled the exposed arsehole with feathers and fingers.

Then lubing his middle rubber-gloved finger well, he gently and slowly pushed it into the boy's hole.

Tony went ballistic. He had never had anything up his arse before, and the instant he felt the man's finger begin to slip inside him he started struggling and screaming curses into the leather gag. Bradley just smiled, and continued what he was doing. When the man's finger made contact with Tony's prostate and began gently massaging it, however, the boy's yells suddenly became surprised, urgent moans of pleasure. These built up until he was screaming again - but this time to be allowed to cum.

For Tony, today was a catalogue of new sexual experiences - feelings he had had no idea existed - he had never dreamed they could be so intense or so excruciatingly horny. The boy didn't even know he had a prostate gland, and the fact that stroking it could produce such a mind-bendingly compelling need to cum was a shock from which it was going to take him a long time to recover.

But there was worse to come. Much worse. Carefully removing his finger, Bradley took two leather thongs. The first he wrapped round and round the base of the boy's cock shaft and his balls like a cock strap, tying it firmly. Then he soaked the second in lube until it was very slippery, hooked it around the ridge of the cockhead, and proceeded to see-saw it back and forth very slowly.

In spite of everything Bradley had done to him so far, Tony had never been allowed to get very close to orgasm - but this instantly took him to the edge. The thong around his cock and balls felt amazingly horny - it seemed to separate everything and thrust his genitals even further out into Bradley's hands. If only those hands would wrap themselves around his cock and jack it off. His entire being longed for a firm grip on his cock.

And the thong sliding across his cock head ridge was the most intense thing yet - he knew that if the man kept this up for another few seconds, he would shoot his spunk without question.

He could feel his balls beginning to contract; his whole nervous system was getting ready for it - as the feelings built up in him he held his breath and screwed his eyes tightly shut in preparation for the shattering orgasm that was coming.

But Bradley knew exactly what he was doing. He stopped moving the thong.

Tony SCREAMED in frustration. He KNEW he was going to go mad. He couldn't stand another second of this torture. With every muscle in his body he fought the restraints holding him down - but the thick leather straps were much stronger than he was, and they kept him helpless and vulnerable as Bradley began to move the thong again: backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, the slippery leather sliding slowly over one of the most sensitive spots on his young body.

Bradley's cock was straining again inside his leather jeans as he concentrated on the boy's cock. "So," he whispered to himself, "fuck my Mistress would you? You prickteasing, sexy little bastard. I'll make you fucking suffer. Want to cum, do you? You don't fucking know what it feels like yet to really want to cum. But you're gonna find out, you beautiful sexy gorgeous boy..."

Tony was making too much noise to hear him - once again the man had stopped when he was on the very brink of cumming, and the lad was screaming himself hoarse at the unendurable frustration. He had to cum. He had to cum. He HAD to fucking CUM!!!

Bradley put the thong down and, lubing his rubber-gloved fingers well, applied them with feather-lightness to the one part of the youth's anatomy that was longing to be touched more than any other - but had yet to be: the supremely sensitive cock head itself.

Tony almost fainted. This was worse than anything. He pushed back, trying to thrust his cock into Bradley's hand, to rub hard against something - anything - but the sadist just gently caressed the tip of the boy's cock head, his smooth, black, shiny rubber-gloved fingertips, hardly touching, sliding on a film of lube over the stretched, glossy, precum-runny skin of the boy's desperately horny cock.

Bradley was on the point of cumming himself - so he got up, stood by the side of the helpless boy's head and slowly unzipped his leather jeans. His cock sprang out, and he massaged the head slowly with his right hand, inches from the lad's face. "Do you want to cum, Tony?"

Tony yelled into the gag and nodded his head violently.

"It feels nice to cum. Do you wish I would wrap my hand around your cock like this...?" He enclosed his cock with his hand. "It's best if you grip it really tightly..."

Tony stared transfixed at the man's fingers as they tightened around the throbbing shaft.

"... and pump it really fast and hard..." He began to jack himself off in front of Tony's widely-staring eyes.

Tony groaned and whimpered. The sight of a hand holding a cock hard and pumping up and down was too much for him in his present condition. Bradley was a fucking sadist.

After five strokes, Bradley came. He threw his head back with a shout of ecstasy, and spunk arced in the air, splattering onto Tony's face. Five, six, seven spurts of hot thick spunk landed on the boy's gagged face and ran down his skin. Under other circumstances Tony would have been outraged, disgusted, sickened even - but now he closed his eyes and roared with the frustration of not being able to do exactly the same thing.

Breathing hard, Bradley zipped himself up. "Now boy," he whispered,"do you want to cum?"

Tony's wild eyes, along with his desperate nodding and moaning, answered for him.

"Well," smiled the man, "I'm gonna make you want to cum even more." Retrieving the leather hood from where he'd dropped it earlier, he turned it inside out and forced it once again over the squirming boy's head. This time he also fastened a collar around his neck and buckled it tight. The collar pulled the leather so that it was stretched over the boy's head, making it more difficult for him to breathe, and - because the hood was now inside out - the smooth, shiny black leather was pressed tight across his face, blindfolding him completely and making him feel even more helpless.

Sitting down once more, Bradley went to work again on the youth's exposed and vulnerble genitals. Using fingers, feathers, Q-tips, the corner of a single sheet of Kleenex tissue, small soft brushes, leather gloves, slippery rubber gloves covered in oil - Bradley tortured the youth mercilessly. He teased and tickled his inner thighs, balls, perineum and arsehole; he licked the very tip of the head of the frantic boy's cock with his tongue; he enclosed the throbbing cock and balls completely in slippery rubber-gloved fingers, stroking up and down the shaft infuriatingly slowly and running lube-smooth fingertips over his cock head; he did everything he could possibly think of to make that helpless, horny boy want to cum - and he did it for a long time.

Tony was long past the point where he couldn't take any more - but there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. The only choice he had was to lie there strapped down tightly hooded and helpless, and suffer the tortures of hell which Bradley was enthusiastically and sadistically administering. Apart from the physical sensations - which were so intensely horny he thought he was constantly on the point of passing out - his mind was also working against him. On the screen of his imagination he pictured the most erotic scenes his brain could come up with - and again, there was nothing he could do to stop this. He was continuously aware of the gag, the straps holding him down, and the smooth black leather of the hood pressing tight across his face, blindfolding him, enclosing him in his own world of horny, sex-filled frustration and making him feel more controlled and defenceless than he had ever felt in his life. For hours, there had been only one thing he wanted - one thing more than anything else in the world, and for which he would have gladly given up all his possessions: he wanted, he NEEDED to cum. He had not had the slightest idea that a boy could need something so very, very badly that everything else was utterly inconsequential. Every touch on his cock, on his balls, on his thighs, his arsehole - anywhere on his body - only made that need more urgent. He was an animal: a sex-mad, single-minded animal intent on only that one thing - to cum.

Bradley was enjoying himself immensely. Ever since he'd layed eyes on that beautiful, sexy youth from next door he'd fantasized about having sex with him - and when Madame had got her claws on him and they'd started fucking like rabbits while all he could do was listen from the other side of the door, his fantasies had evolved from merely having sex with the boy, to extreme punishment. And now here he was - strapped down and suffering the most intense sexual frustration Bradley could devise. Oh yes, Bradley was having fun.

The man took Tony once more to the very edge of orgasm, and then removed his hands, leaving him poised on the brink of the unattainable yet again. He must have done that thirty or forty times so far. "Ok - I'm going to have a cup of tea and let you calm down a bit, and then we'll have the test."

His words filtered slowly through the sex-crazed fog in the boy's mind, but by the time they registered, Bradley had gone downstairs. Test? What test?

*               *               *

Ten minutes later the man was back. Tony's cock was still as rock-hard and dripping precum as it had been all afternoon, but his mind was a little clearer now after the break.

Bradley sat down on the stool again and adjusted his own cock inside his jeans. This was the bit he'd been looking forward to most of all. He knew that Susan fancied the blond boy so much that she had absolutely no intention of not seeing him again, whether or not Bradley's 'training' was successful - but Tony didn't know that. And it was time for the lie.

"Now then, so far I've got you horny. I think you'd agree with that, eh?"

Bradley chuckled at the lack of response. "Ok. Now, the whole point of all this is that Susan asked me to train you not to cum so easily. Like I said, so far I've got you horny and used to the feeling of being close to cumming but not doing so. But up to now, I've helped you. Now, it's time for you to practise exercising a bit of control on your own. I'm going to bring you slowly up to the point of orgasm, but this time I'm not going to stop. What you have to do is to control yourself, and NOT cum. Now it's very important that you understand this properly, because if you cum before I say you can, you won't be fucking Susan any more."

Tony went ballistic at this. In his present state he'd cum if the fucker so much as blew on his cock. He yelled and screamed into the gag and shook his head wildly.

"Now I know you're very horny, and you don't think you can do it, but believe me you can - and you're going to have to if you want to feel your hard, horny cock sliding in and out of her warm, wet cunt again. If you want to kiss her and stroke her hair and bury your face between those breasts; if you want to feel her hot wet lips sucking your hard horny cock again..."

Oh fuck, thought Tony, I'm almost cumming right now. Bradley's words were having exactly the effect he wanted - and the bastard was gently stroking the boy's cock shaft as he talked.

"So - you ready? Just remember - you MUST NOT CUM."

All boys have a certain spot on their cock - or a technique of masturbation - which will make them cum efficiently and, usually, involuntarily. With some, it's hard pumping of the shaft; with others it's gentle work on the tip of the cock head, or a swirling, rotational movement, or gently stroking the upper surface of the shaft - different males have different triggers - but Bradley had discovered very early on that in this boy's case, it was a thumb moving in gentle circles on the spot where his cock shaft meets the head - right on the ridge. That was Tony's biggest weakness - and it was that very weakness that Bradley went for now. Slowly and lightly, he rubbed his thumb around and around over that supremely sensitive place, while gently stroking his fingers over the boy's balls with the other hand.

He wanted to bring the boy up to the brink very, very slowly, so that he could feel it happening, feel orgasm approaching gradually, and try to fight against it with every ounce of his concentration. This wasn't so that the boy could improve his control - he intended to make the little fucker cum good and proper anyway - it was to punish the bastard, pure and simple. Bradley intended to make the boy lose control, and he wanted him to feel it happening slowly and irrevocably, and to know that there was not a fucking thing he could do to prevent it.

Bradley's thumb worked slowly on Tony's cock, sliding on the copious film of pre-cum. Around and around it stroked, right on the very spot that was the boy's nemesis.

Inside the black leather, Tony's eyes were screwed up in concentration. He must not cum. Must not cum. MUST NOT CUM.

Tony's balls were perfectly spherical now - tightly contracted under the base of his cock, the light sprinkling of golden hairs wet and glistening with the precum that had run slowly down the shaft and covered them before dripping into a pool on the floor. His foreskin was pulled back, forming a tight collar around the base of the head. Very gently, Bradley gripped the top of the shaft with a single finger and thumb and pulled upwards. Lubricated by the precum, the foreskin released its hold and slipped up towards the tip of his cock, moving faster than the man's fingers. It slid over the end of the youth's cock and formed a puckered ring over the tip.

Tony gasped at the mind-shatteringly horny feeling and tried to thrust his hips, but the tight, thick leather straps over his pelvis and thighs were designed to make the torture worse by stopping the slightest movement of his cock and balls, and preventing him from getting relief that way. Tony nearly screamed in frustration.

Slowly, Bradley reversed direction, causing the foreskin to slide down once again to its former position. His thumb's rubbing over that special spot at the top of each stroke, together with the movement of the foreskin over the unbearably sensitive glans worked together to bring the boy slightly nearer to orgasm with each sadistically slow stroke.

Tony was going insane: he knew that if he came, he would never be allowed to fuck Susan again - but he could feel himself getting closer with each movement of that bastard's fingers. He fought for breath inside the leather hood, and struggled to escape - but it was no good. He could do nothing but will himself not to cum.

Bradley's fingers continued their slow, devilish work. He knew exactly what he was doing to the boy. He knew that Tony could feel himself gradually getting closer to orgasm and could do nothing about it. But he wanted the boy to fight against it - if he just gave up and allowed himself to cum, Bradley would be disappointed. He wanted the youth to fight and struggle and feel himself losing, his control slipping away bit by bit. And so he gripped even more lightly, moved his finger and thumb even more slowly, letting the foreskin do the work of jacking the horny boy off, sliding up and down over the desperate cock head. He could have tickled and teased the boy's balls at the same time, or worked on his exposed arsehole - either of these things would have made him cum instantly - but he didn't; he wanted his cock head to be the only thing that Tony could feel. Nothing else.

Tony was beginning to panic. Surely he could do this - it was only a matter of mind control - all he had to do was to stop himself from cumming. That's all. But he couldn't! Each tiny movement of Bradley's fingers was getting him closer and closer in spite of everything he could do to stop it. He was helpless. He was gagged, hooded, strapped down, exposed, vulnerable, defenceless - there was no way he could fight back, and there was no way he could make himself less horny. His cock was in Bradley's hands, and the bastard was slowly tossing him off, using the foreskin to slide over his cock head in a way that the boy had no defence against. The fucker was milking him and there was fuck all he could do about it. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!!!!

Bradley smiled gently. He knew it was only a matter of time. He knew there was no way the boy could hold out against this. Every time his thumb rubbed over that spot, and the foreskin slid genty over the cock head, Tony was brought a tiny step nearer to losing control. The man watched the lad's strong muscles flexing, his body tensing, as he fought against the restraints. The big muscles of his lower back were straining to move his cock away from those slowly but relentlessly jacking fingers. For the third time, Bradley came in his leather jeans.

He didn't allow it to interrupt his movements though, and he kept up exactly the same slow, frustrating rhythm:












Suddenly the boy's cock stiffened even more, and Bradley knew that he was on the very edge of cumming: one more stroke would do it. He froze for a couple of seconds, and then - as slowly as was humanly possible - he raised his fingers again. The foreskin slid slowly up....

Inside the leather hood, Tony had been holding his breath. He knew he was on the very brink of shooting, but he knew he MUST NOT! He felt his cock stiffen, and then Bradley's fingers - and his universe - stopped in mid-heartbeat. For what seemed an eternity he was held poised on the edge. He knew it was too late - but he hadn't started to cum yet.

And then, as if he knew, Bradley moved his hand. Just once, slowly. The boy felt his foreskin begin to slide one final time up across his hypersensitive cock head - and that was the trigger that broke him. With a roar of frustration, he thrashed in his retraints, able to control the boiling spunk in his balls no longer - and despite everything he could do to stop it, he felt the first spasm of orgasm.

Bradley found it amazing to watch: every muscle of this strong, powerful, athletic boy's body was struggling and straining against the straps which held him down; his hooded head was thrashing from side to side; and yet his cock and balls were motionless, held immobile by the carefully designed restraints across his upper thighs and his pelvis. But as the boy started to cum, his cock - now stiffer than it had ever been - seemed to take on a life of its own: it started to dance and buck in Bradley's hand. But the man gently held it still, and continued the same slow movements of his fingers over the top of the shaft:





The thick white spunk barrelled out of the boy's cock in powerful bursts, flying through the air and covering the shiny black leather of Bradley's crotch as he carried on milking the youth slowly and methodically. Five - six - seven - eight - nine - ten - eleven - twelve - thirteen - fourteen - fifteen times it pumped out its spunk before even beginning to slow down. The man's fingers slipped and slid on the creamy white semen as it ran down Tony's cock, extracting every last drop from the boy with the same slow strokes.

Tony was in ecstasy - never in his life had he experienced an orgasm as intense or as long as this. It went on and on. Bradley's continued slow milking seemed to prolong the whole thing; he could feel his spunk jetting out of his cock, and each pulse brought a wave of heavenly pleasure and relief the like of which he'd never felt. Time after time his muscles contracted and shot more and more spunk out. He wanted it never to stop.

Then, as the shattering ejaculation began to die, he gasped as he felt Bradley's lubed finger pushing up into his arsehole. The fingertip found the boy's prostate and began to massage it - and the orgasm seemed to begin again! The muscles renewed their pumping, and Tony screamed in ecstasy as his cock tried to deliver more spunk, although there wasn't any left. With a final yell of pure animal lust, he passed out.

When Tony came to, he was lying on the bed, staring up into Susan's eyes. They were both naked, and she was gently playing with his balls.

"Hello," she smiled. "I got back just as you were cumming. You've been unconscious for about ten minutes."

Tony frowned, not understanding. He'd lost, hadn't he?

"Bradley tells me he told you a little fib to make it more... interesting. Don't worry, our arrangement is still ok - although there will be some minor changes. I'll tell you about them later. Right now it's time to see if your training worked. Fuck me."

*               *               *

Tony picked up the phone knowing exactly who would be on the other end. "Hello?"

"Hello Tony. Madame wants you in one hour. Get round here now."

"Yes SIR!" Tony's cock got instantly hard at the sound of Bradley's voice - something that had started to happen a month ago after the infamous 'training' session. He replaced the receiver and went straight round to his neighbours' house.

"You know the drill, boy. I think the hogtie today."

Tony nodded, stripped, and lay down on the padded floor mat as Bradley expertly roped his hands and feet together behind his back and hooded him. He'd even got to like the hood, and his cock jerked as the man pulled the black leather down over his head and shoulders, fastening the Velcro straps under his armpits and then the collar tight around his neck.

Tony was ambivalent about being jacked off every time before he was allowed to fuck Susan: on the one hand it was fucking humiliating, and also he really wanted to do her while he was at his horniest - but on the other hand, it certainly did prolong his sex with Susan: after Bradley made him cum he could usually go at it for 20 minutes with her before he shot his load.

And Bradley was so fucking expert at it. Each time, Tony was determined not to allow himself to cum at the man's hands - he only had to hold out for 45 minutes after all - but so far he had not succeeded: the man was a human milking machine and knew just how to work on the boy in the most irresistable ways.

But this time would be different. As Bradley began to tickle and tease the boy's balls and slowly wank him off, Tony vowed that this time he would hold out and get to fuck Susan the way he wanted to.

Bradley's fingertips slid up and down the horny boy's cock. He glanced at his watch: two minutes to go. He placed his thumb on the spot at the bottom of the youth's cock head and rubbed it gently.

With a yell of frustration, Tony came - his spunk shooting helplessly into the man's hand.

Bradley smiled in satisfaction: the day you can hold out against me, mate, will be the day your training is complete. And I intend to make sure that doesn't happen for a LONG time...