For as long as anyone could remember, the King’s Arms had been the place to go for the local leather guys. It was ancient and a bit the worse for wear, but it had an atmosphere that people liked.
Derek and Paul were both old-school tops, and they’d known each other for years. Halfway through a discussion about a boy they’d both had the misfortune of working on, a figure loomed over their table, holding a pint. They looked up the man was big, and his leathers were straining to contain Schwarzenegger-class muscles. A chair back was blocking Paul’s view of the guy’s bulge at the moment, but if it was on the same scale as his body, he guessed it was going to be impressive.
“Hello,” said Derek.
“Hi. Can I join ya?”
They smiled and nodded. Paul had been right: as the guy moved the chair, a truly massive cock bulge came into view. They stared his jeans were loose at the crotch they had to be and the way the bulge stayed in place as the black leather slid over it when he sat down was hypnotic. It was enormous.
The guy put his pint on the table. “I’m Scott. Moved down here from Edinburgh last week. I was told this is the place to meet other tops.”
“Scott from Edinburgh? Appropriate name,” smiled Paul. “Yep, it’s about the only place in town for leather. I’m Paul, this is Derek.”
“Pleased to meet you.” He looked the two up and down. “You both tops?”
Paul nodded. “We are.”
“So, what’s your specialities?”
“Specialities?” Asked Derek.
“Yeah, what’s your main things? What are you best at doing to subs?”
Derek looked at Paul and raised his eyebrows. “Well, the usual things, I suppose.”
“Right.” Scott nodded, clearly unimpressed. “I’m a master edger.”
“Certainly am. Don’t get any better than me.”
Derek smiled. “Is that right?”
“Yep. Had a stable of slaves back in Scotland, and new ones came from miles around. I’m well-known up there. Good rep.”
“That’s good,” said Paul. He nodded politely.
“I always think a top should be expert at one thing do everything else as well, of course but there should be one thing he’s better at than anybody else. With me, that’s edging. Like I say, I’m the master. I can have a guy begging in ten minutes. Less. Subs, tops, doesn’t matter. I can do anybody. I’m the best there fucking is.” He took a loud slurp of his beer.
“Really?” Paul looked at Derek. They were both liking this guy less by the second.
“Yep.” Scott sat back. “So, I’m looking for victims. Guys who wanna get edged by the best. You two know any?”
Paul scratched his nose. “Well, we know a great many guys. Most subs like being edged, of course -”
“Nah, I want challenges! Guys who fucking think they can resist it! I wanna get known around here. I was the best up north, and I’m gonna be the best down here.”
“Well,” Paul said again, “we can ask around. See if anybody’s up for that.”
“Oh, they will be. Once I’ve worked on a few and word gets around they’ll be queuing round the fucking block to get edged by me. I’ll be hiring a secretary to take the bookings. So you do that.”
He finished his beer and got up. “Nice meeting ya.” With a curt nod, he left.
“Jesus,” said Paul when he’d gone. “What a dick.”
Derek smiled. “Yeah, and the balls didn’t look too bad either in those jeans.”
“I meant what a pillock.”
Derek laughed. “I know what you meant. And I agree; a classic plonker. Can’t have that kind of thing. Methinks he needs taking down a peg. Any ideas?”
Everybody fancied the arse off Brodie. He was 23, 6ft, slim, blue-eyed with spiky blond hair; he had a body to die for and wore skintight leather like he’d been born in it. Unusually for such a good-looking boy, he wasn’t in the slightest bit arrogant, and he was a thoroughly nice guy. Quite apart from fancying him, everybody liked him a lot. He was neither a top nor a sub; he just loved any kind of sex either way around - involving bondage and leather. Tops had tried to make him one of their slaves; subs had begged him to make them one of his he’d just smiled and shaken his head (before having sex with them anyway).
Paul told him about the arrogant guy from Edinburgh, who thought he was God’s gift to edging. “The man needs to be taught a fucking lesson and you, Brodie boy, are our secret weapon. Of all the guys I’ve known, you’ve got the best self-control I’ve ever seen. I’ve worked on your cock for bloody hours and all you did was lie there with that sexy fucking smile on your face, enjoying it, you bastard. What we’d like you to do is make a deal with him: if he cant make you beg for orgasm in half an hour, I’ll tie him up and make him beg to be allowed to cum.” Apart from being good at many other things in a playroom, Paul was, himself, an experienced edger.
Brodie had thought about this for a moment, then he’d grinned. “Ok, Paul. Set it up.”
Brodie was restrained naked on the bondage table, smiling as usual.
Paul inclined his head towards Derek who was sitting next to him. “This should be good. I don’t think our Scottish friend is going to find it so easy.” He glanced at Scott, who was getting the lube from a shelf. Paul still couldn’t believe that huge cock bulge between his thighs. “I’m gonna work on that horse cock and make the bastard beg,” he said through gritted teeth.
Scott pulled a stool to the side of the table and sat down. He looked at Brodie. “Hmm,” he growled, “good-looking boy. Nice body. Nice cock. You’ll be begging me to let you cum very soon.”
Brodie’s smile broadened a little but he didn’t say anything.
Scott pressed one of the many buttons on his watch, then took the boy’s soft cock in one leather-gloved hand and started to stroke it slowly. It began to harden. Before long it was fully erect. Scott held it by the base, pulling it slightly towards him, and used the fingers of his other hand to tease the glans. “You’re getting horny, boy, aren’t you… Very horny,” he said.
The fingers glided across the boy’s cock head.
“You’re starting to want to cum aren’t you… I know you are. You can’t fight it…”
Brodie licked his lips.
“Wanting to cum… that need to cum… Getting worse, isn’t it…” His fingertips continued to tease over the glans on the film of lube.
A small frown had appeared on Brodie’s face.
“Still getting worse, isn’t it, that need to cum…” He poured more lube onto the cock and his fingertips slid through it.
Brodie had started moving slightly, and there was a tiny humping of his hips.
“You want to cum don’t you… But I’m not gonna let you… Want me to make you cum, boy?” His other hand squeezed slightly more around the base of Brodie’s cock.
There was a very quiet whisper. “Yes please.”
“Didn’t hear that. If you want me to let you cum, beg me.”
Brodie said nothing.
“But you need to cum… Feel that leather sliding slowly over your cock head? Getting you so fucking horny, isn’t it… You need to cum so badly you can’t stand it.”
“Oh fuck.” The boy’s voice was no longer a whisper.
“Yeah, that need to cum’s getting worse and worse isn’t it… Worse and worse …”
“Make me cum!”
“Beg me, boy.” The fingers glided over Brodie’s horny cock head.
Now, there was no hesitation. “For fuck’s sake make me cum! Please!”
“Are you begging me?”
“YES! I’ m beg ging you! Make me cuuuum! ”
“You got it, boy.” Scott took the whole of Brodie’s cock in his leather-gloved hand and rubbed it properly. Spunk spurted.
The man wiped his gloved hand, checked his watch, and looked at Paul. “Three and a half minutes. Slightly less.”
Paul looked at Derek. “I don’t fucking believe it.”
“I thought you had good self-control!” Said Paul.
Brodie shook his head slowly. “I have. I don’t understand it. When he first started playing with my cock it was fine. But then he said I was horny and I needed to cum, and his fingers were sliding over my cock in all the right places and I did need to.”
Paul thought for a while, then he nodded slowly.
After the episode with Brodie, Scott was even more insufferable than he had been before. He appeared in the Kings Arms every night and could be heard bragging about how he’d made the local un-edgeable boy beg in less than three and a half minutes.
An elderly leather guy with gray hair was seen talking to Scott later. Shortly afterwards they left together.
The following evening Paul put his beer down on the pub table and stood up. He looked over at the big guy, sitting a couple of tables away. “Scott,” he called.
The guy looked up, and the general chatter in the room died down.
“I think I can speak for everybody here, that we’re very impressed with your edging ability that demonstration on young Brodie was amazing. It’s not easy to make that boy beg.”
“I reckon we’d all like the opportunity to see you do that to him again. To see a master at work. A lot of us could learn from you, Scott. If you’re willing…? We could use Derek’s playroom again.”
Scott chuckled in false modesty. “Well. If you think you could learn something from me. I’m always happy to show guys my talents, point them in the right direction.” He sat up straight. “Sure. Yes, I’d be pleased to show everyone.” This, he realised, would be the perfect opportunity to spread his fame in this neck of the woods.
As he had been the previous time, Brodie was strapped to the table. Most of the local tops had been invited and stood around in the playroom watching; a few of them had their boys with them. It wasn’t a large room, but they were crowded around the edge, leaving as much space for the demonstration as possible. Scott was positively strutting as he approached the boy and pulled the stool to the table.
“I will make this boy beg me to let him cum in… oh, shall we say three minutes?” He announced to the onlookers.
Everyone looked impressed.
“Start the clock!” Scott blew theatrically onto the fingers of a lubed, leather-gloved hand, flexed them, and wrapped them around Brodie’s cock.
The cock grew more quickly than it had done the first time. Scott smiled to himself that would be because now Brodie knew what the man was capable of doing to him. When it was fully hard, the fingers began to slide over the shiny glans. “You starting to get horny yet, boy?” Said Scott. “You’re starting to want to cum, aren’t you… The need is getting stronger, isn’t it…”
Brodie was lying there impassively, smiling up at the man.
“You want to cum, don’t you… That need to cum is getting worse, isn’t it…”
The boy’s cock was as hard as a rock, but he wasn’t showing any signs of needing to cum at the moment.
“It’s steadily getting worse. That need is getting stronger by the second, isn’t it… The one thing you want more than anything is for me to let you cum… It’s getting worse and worse isn’t it…”
Scott adjusted his position on the stool, and it was suddenly clear that the guy had a raging erection of his own. His cock was enormous anyway, but now it was thrusting against his jeans as if it wanted to escape. The black leather was stretched to bursting point and the shape of the huge, rigid cock was very obvious to all. Judging by the guy’s attempts to hide it, it appeared that this was not a usual occurrence.
Slightly flustered, but continuing anyway, Scott leaned closer to Brodie’s ear. “You need to cum, don’t you… You need to cum so badly it hurts… That black leather sliding over your cock head is making you need to cum more and more, isn’t it… it’s getting worse and worse and worse… You can’t stand it. You have to cum.”
Brodie gazed up at the man.
“There’s only one way I’m gonna let you cum: if you beg me.”
As soon as he’d said the word ‘beg’, something very strange happened. He let go of the boy, stood up facing the crowd of guys, his arms moved behind his back and locked themselves in place there, and he began to squirm. His legs bent, and his knees closed tightly together. “Oh fuck,” he muttered. “Oh fuck. Fuck!”
The assembled tops and also Brodie, with a wide grin on his boyish face - watched him.
Scott seemed to be doing everything he could to make his leather jeans rub over his cock.
“Pl- please…” He muttered.
There was silence in the room.
“Fuck. Please,” Scott said again. He was finding it very difficult to talk.
“Oh fuck. I gotta cum!”
Another five seconds went by. Scott’s knees bent even more, and his thighs were repeatedly squeezing together, which pushed his cock out - and then moving wide apart, which slid it to the side. It looked ridiculous, but it was making the massive bulge move inside his leather jeans in a way that the onlookers found so horny that many of them had started to play with their own cocks as they watched.
“Please. Make me cum!”
“Beg,” said Brodie from the table.
“Shit. Yes. Fuck! I beg. I’m begging you. Let me fucking CUM!! ”
A man stepped forward from the crowd of onlookers. It was the guy with the gray hair. After a pause, he said, quietly, “It’s getting worse and worse, isn’t it, Scott…”
At these words Scott’s movements increased abruptly. He couldn’t reach his cock, so he was desperately trying to make his jeans bring him off. But although the head was rubbing against the leather with every movement, he couldn’t cum. His arm muscles strained as he struggled to get his hands to his cock, but it was as if they were handcuffed behind his back.
“That need’s getting stronger and stronger, isn’t it, Scott… It’s getting worse and worse…” the gray-haired man said again.
Now, Scott’s movements made it look for all the world like there was an invisible guy stood behind him with one hand between his thighs working on his balls, the other reaching around him and wanking him. Scott’s knees opened and closed, his hips thrust, and his cock rubbed against the inside of his leather jeans, doing its own thing to make everything worse.
The crowd were cheering and applauding as he fought to make himself cum.
Finally, after everyone had watched this for another full minute, the gray-haired top said loudly, over the noise of the crowd, “You may cum, Scott.”
Scott’s hips gave a huge thrust forward and everyone stared as his cock erupted inside his jeans. The enormous thing jerked and bucked as he came, each gob of spunk visible as it squirted out into the black leather that was now pressed tight over the end of his desperate cock. At the same time his face began to redden. It continued to do so as he stood there - his body shaking, cock jerking, legs moving, until his orgasm began slowly to subside. His head hung in abject shame. Not until the very last drop of spunk had soaked into the leather or had run down onto his balls and thighs were the intangible restraints released and he was he able to bring his arms forward. He ran out of the playroom to the resounding whoops and mocking cheers of the crowd.
Paul stood up. “Gentlemen, a few of us saw, the first time Scott worked on Brodie, a virtuoso demonstration of how to break the will of a boy. Scott made Brodie beg in minutes flat. But it seemed strange to me. He’d broken Brodie far too easily I’ve played with that boy and believe me he is not easy to break.” There was some laughter and chuckling at this.
“Something wasn’t right. And then it struck me the bastard was using hypnosis. And so I had a word with this gentlemen. Let me introduce you to an old friend of mine.” He put an arm around the shoulder of the gray-haired man. “John Desmond Master hypnotherapist and stage hypnotist for over 20 years. He’d watched that first session too, and it was his opinion that Scott had used hypnotic suggestion to accomplish that feat of will-breaking. Put simply, he’d cheated. And John very kindly agreed to show our Scottish friend that that kind of thing is not required around here. Hypnosis has its place, and can be a lot of fun, but not when it’s masquerading as something else.” He slapped John Desmond on the back. “Well done mate.”
There was enthusiastic applause, and a lot more whoops.
Paul and Derek sat at their usual table in the Kings Arms. John Desmond was there too, as was Brodie who was, as usual, smiling.
“Well, that went superbly well. Thank you both,” said Paul.
John grinned. “It was a pleasure.” He looked at Brodie. “Oh, I’d better… Look at me please, my boy.”
Brodie looked at him.
“Rhubarb,” said John, clearly.
Brodie frowned. “What?”
John chuckled. “I’ve just removed the block I put on you yesterday. You have your normal functioning back now.”
Brodie still looked blank.
“You can feel the need to cum again.”
“Oh! Right! Thank you.”
“It would have returned anyway in a day or so, but it’s done now.”
Brodie nodded. He was beaming.
Paul frowned. “How did you deal with Scott?” He asked John.
“Just a chat outside in the car park, actually. A few suggestions, a couple of post-hypnotic ones, that’s about it. Only took five minutes. I told him not to remember our chat, though he will have done by now I should think.”
“Excellent.” He looked around the pub. “It’s busy tonight.”
“It is,” said Paul. “But if you look very carefully you’ll see there is no sign of a certain guy from Edinburgh.”
Derek frowned deeply, scanning the crowd. “You know, Paul,” he said in mock-surprise, “I think you’re right.”