The Telemachus Story Archive

By Hooder


“That is soooo creepy.”

Dylan looked up from his physics text. Across the table, Debbie’s face was a picture of disgust as she slowly turned the pages of what appeared to be an SM porn mag. She stopped at a photograph of a hunky guy in full black leather gear, tied to a complicated frame, and with a very obvious bulge between his thighs.

“I mean, like, what sort of creep gets off on something like leather or bondage, for fuck’s sake?”

Todd frowned. “Oh I don’t know – a bit of experimentation in the bedroom can be fun.” Debbie looked up. “I would imagine,” he added.

“Fetishes are a symptom of severe psychological problems,” she said. “And who would want to get tied up, for fuck’s sake? Or go with a guy who got off on what you were wearing, and not you? It’s creepy. People like that are weird. They need treatment, the poor bastards.” She closed the mag and threw it into the bin by the next table, then she collected her tablet and books and shoved them into her bag. “See y’all later. You going to the bonfire bash tomorrow?”

“I’d forgotten – is it the fifth tomorrow?”

“Sure is. Fireworks and explosions. You gotta be there.”

Dylan drained his coffee. “Yep. We’ll be there.”

“See you then.” She swept off, heading down the corridor to B Block, leaving the two boys alone in the cafeteria.

“I do wish she’d say what she felt, and not beat around the bush so much.”

Dylan grunted, but he wasn’t smiling. “It makes you think, though.”

“Oh don’t worry about it – it’s only her opinion.” The two boys sat in silence for a while.

“Can I ask you something?”, said Dylan.

Todd smiled. “Of course you can.”

“Do you like leather?”

Todd took a sip of his coffee then put it down on the table. “Yes, actually I do.”

Dylan nodded. “Me too. In fact I think about it a lot.” There was a long pause. “Have you ever been tied up or done anything kinky with anyone?”

Todd puffed out his cheeks and looked sideways. “Well,” he said after a few moments, “I’ve experimented once or twice...”

“Which way round?”

Todd frowned. “What d’you mean? Have I -”

“I mean have you tied someone up or been tied up yourself?”

“Both, but mostly I’ve done the tying up. Several people, in fact.”

“Girls or boys?”

Todd made a sound between a cough and a laugh. “Well, boys actually.”

“What do you do to them when you’ve got them tied up?”

“This is a bit...”

“Please, tell me. I wank thinking about bondage and leather.”

Todd was silent for a while before he replied. “Well, if you really want to know, I like edging boys.”

Dylan frowned. “Edging? What’s that?”

“It’s making a boy need to cum – very badly - but not letting him cum.”

Dylan thought about that. “Is that possible? If you want to cum, you cum, don’t you.”

Todd chuckled again. “Erm… not necessarily, no. Edging is keeping a boy on the edge of cumming, but making sure that he can’t actually cum.”

Dylan was frowning even more deeply now. “You can stop someone from cumming when they want to? I don’t see how that is possible. How do you do that? - And why?”

“Why? Because it feels amazing for the victim, and because it turns me on to make a horny boy suffer like that.”

Dylan considered this. “Suffer? Why should he suffer?”

“Because it feels so good, and you need to cum so badly, that it’s fucking frustrating when you can’t.”

“So how do you do it? How do you stop someone from cumming?”

Todd began to collect his books from the table. “Look, this isn’t really the best place to describe my sex life...” He stopped, with his hand inside his backpack – he had just noticed the steel-hard erection pushing Dylan’s tight jeans out into an eye-watering bulge between his thighs. Dylan noticed him staring, and followed his gaze to his own crotch. With an mortified start, he covered his groin with his hands. His face was going very red.

“Tell me,” smiled Todd, “have you ever actually had sex with anybody – apart from your right hand?”

Too embarrased to speak, Dylan eventually shook his head.

Todd smiled. “I see.” He thought for a while. “Perhaps you should find out what leather feels like, and exactly how that cock of yours actually works. If you want, I could arrange a demonstration...”

Dylan was pretty sure he would regret this, but at the moment his cock was running the show. He nodded. “That would be cool.”

Yes, thought Todd, it very probably might be.

* * *

“I can’t see anything.”

The two boys were in the bedroom of a friend of Todd’s, and Todd was strapping a leather hood in place on Dylan’s head. “That’s the idea. That’s why it’s got no eyeholes.”

“I know that,” came his muffled voice from inside, “but what I mean is why do I have to wear it?”

“So that you can’t see anything.” Todd smiled.

“That is a circular argument and you’re deliberately being obtuse.” A quiet groan of pleasure came from under the leather. “But it feels good...”

Todd patted his friend on the shoulder. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. Come on.” He led the naked Dylan out of the bedroom and into the playroom next door.

“The floor’s cold – what is it, rubber?”

“Yes it’s rubber. Now shut up or I’ll gag you as well.”

Todd’s friend Guy, who owned the house, was sat on a stool in a corner of the playroom – he was keeping very quiet, and watching the proceedings with an amused smile on his face. Dylan had no idea there was anyone else in the room; nor, in fact, what kind of room it was. Todd thought that if he’d been able to see the restraint table, the hoist, the cell, the sling, the manacles, straps and hoods on the shelves, Dylan would either have fainted with fright or cum on the spot. He wasn’t altogether sure which.

“Ok – there’s a table in front of you. I want you to lie on it, face down.”

The table in question was a large one, padded with black leather on the top surface. As Todd guided his friend onto it, he positioned the boy’s semi-hard cock and his balls so they fitted through a hole. Reaching underneath he pulled them through gently but firmly.

“What’s that? A hole?”

“Yes, it’s a hole. Now keep still.” One by one, he took the leather straps Guy silently handed him, pulled them through the restraint points along the table, and tightened them over Dylan’s body. Soon the boy was immobilised, pressed tightly into the black leather surface and unable to move an inch in any direction.

Todd reached up and unclipped a chain hanging from the hoist above Dylan. He attached it to a substantial hook at the corner of the table. There were hooks at each corner, and he clipped chains to those as well. Satsfied that everything was secure, he placed his finger over a button. “We’re going for a short ride, so don’t panic.” The hoist whirred into action and raised the table slowly from its four supporting legs.


Todd ignored the startled wail and unlocked the legs from the floor, stacking them out of the way at the side of the room. The table was now some five feet off the ground. He looked over at Guy and raised his eyebrows. Guy motioned upwards with his hand, and Todd raised the table a little more until Guy held his palm flat towards him. Guy nodded.

A couple of comfortable reclining chairs with adjustable arm- and head-rests stood off to one side, and Todd positioned them under the table. He sat down in one and quietly took the two feathers Guy was holding out to him. Getting himself comfortable in the chair, he moved the headrest until it supported him looking slightly upwards directly at the restrained teenager’s cock. He noticed that since the leather straps had gone on, that cock was now substantially firmer. With his elbows on the raised armrests, his hands were at the ideal height to use the feathers on the exposed cock and balls. Using just one feather, he proceeded to do just that. Remembering what he’d learned from Guy when first he’d experienced it from the receiving end; then while he had watched while Guy worked on another victim, and later, when he had helped to drive boys out of their minds on this very table, he began just on Dylan’s balls.

When the soft feather first made contact with the boy’s sensitive scrotum, Dylan had almost jumped out of his skin. “Ah! Fuck! What’s that? It tickles!”

“I know it tickles. That’s part of the fun. Don’t worry, you’ll soon have other things to think about than the tickling.”

The feather stroked slowly and teasingly along the side of Dylan’s balls. It traced along the rounded contours, caressing and gliding over the golden hairs; it nuzzled into the creases at the very tops of the boy’s inner thighs; the pointed, soft tip kissed the perineum and flicked playfully and unpredictably all over the naked and vullerable balls.

Throughout all of this, Dylan had been moaning with pleasure - occasionally laughing with ticklishness - and his cock had been getting steadily harder and harder. Slowly but inevitably it had enlarged until now it was fully erect, stabbing the air at a forty-five degree angle in front of Todd’s eyes.

Guy moved quietly closer and stood by Dylan’s side. The hood the boy was wearing had been chosen not just to blindfold him, but also so that he wouldn’t be able to hear small sounds – because Guy was wearing full leathers, and he hadn’t wanted the boy to hear any creaking. Now, he raised a leather-jacketed arm, extended his gloved hand out flat, and, above the table, placed it against the inside of the teenager’s leg, the leather fingertips tickling his inner thigh.

A sudden shock went through Dylan’s body. “AAGH! What the fuck?”

Todd chuckled. “It’s leather. Feel good?”

Dylan was already too horny to worry about very much at all, but that initial shock had been intense; he’d thought that he had been alone in the room with Todd. The fact that there was someone else there as well to work on him sent a shiver of horniness through him. And the leather against his legs felt unbelievably sexy…

While Guy stroked his leathers over Dylan from above, Todd was still working on the boy’s balls under the table. But now he took the second feather in his other hand and, while continuing to tickle the balls, used it to stroke up the shaft of the straining cock. Single strokes, up only the shaft, never touching the cock head, repeated and repeated…

With each stroke, the cock jerked. There was, Todd thought to himself, something amazingly satisfying about watching a disembodied cock responding so perfectly to just light touches from a soft feather. He could do this all day.

Under the hood, Dylan was in a black leather world of his own. He had no idea what this room looked like, nor to whom the other arm belonged – presumably to Todd’s friend who lived here – but he didn’t care. He was strapped down to a padded table, he couldn’t see a fucking thing, there was black leather between his legs, stroking his thighs (he could feel the zip fastener of the leather jacket occasionally, and for some reason that turned him on as well) – and his cock and balls were sticking through a hole and being tickled by feathers wielded by someone who knew exactly what he was doing. He was helpless, and his cock had never felt so indescribably vulnerable. It felt fucking amazing. The only sex Dylan had ever had in his entire life had been wanking. He’d never fucked anyone, never had a blowjob, never so much as had his cock touched by any other living person since his mother used to bathe him when he was tiny, and so what he was experiencing now was not, to him, just the deep end of sex, it was something that, until this moment, had been completely unimaginable to him. The feelings that the feather was producing on the shaft of his cock were – he literally had no words to describe them. Waves of pure pleasure, lust, urgency, and animal craving shot through him like electric sparks. And now a new feeling was making its presence felt: he wanted to cum.

From beneath the table, it was as if Todd was reading his mind. “Feels good, doesn’t it...” he said. The feathers continued working on his balls and cock shaft. “Now, you wanted to know about cumming. You’re probably feeling that you’d like to cum. That right?”

“Mmmm.. Yes. Please.”

Guy was using both leather-jacketed arms now, stroking the boy’s legs and feet.

“Well the first thing you should know is that there is wanting to cum, and there is needing to cum, and that they are two very different things. Right now you want to cum. But let’s move on...” He stroked the tip of the feather across and around the boy’s cock-head. This was the first time it had been touched since Dylan had been on the table, and the resulting yell of lust was music to Todd’s ears. He went back to working just on the shaft.

“No! No! Go back to the head!”

“Mmmm? The head? You like that?” He flicked the feather once over the cock head again and the table rocked with the boy’s reaction.

“Yes! Please! Work on the head!”`

“You want to cum?”

“Oh fuck yes! I need to cum! Now!”

“Ok, so cum. You said that if a guy needs to cum, he cums. Should be no problem for you.”

Todd took the feather and placed it, not moving, against the boy’s cock head. Carefully, he held it there, completely stationary. The leather straps holding Dylan down had been designed severely to limit the victim’s movement generally, but two particularly tight ones over the pelvic area were specifically intended to make even the slightest motion of his cock impossible. Dylan could feel the feather resting lightly against his ultra-sensitive cock head, but he could do nothing to get any friction from it. That edging table was – as it had been designed to be – unbearably and insanely frustrating.

“Todd! Please! I need to cum. I really need to cum!”

Guy took another leather jacket from a hook and lay it over the boy’s body, getting the sleeves into the V formed by his upper thighs, then joined Todd under the table, taking the vacant chair. He had his own pair of feathers.

“No you don’t,”replied Todd. “You might think you do, but believe me, you don’t know yet what really needing to cum feels like. But you will...”

Together, Todd and Guy set to work on the boy. By unspoken agreement, Guy – the more expert of the two - worked on the cock, while Todd concentrated on the balls. Guy had been edging boys for a very long time, it had been his speciality for many years, and over that long career he had developed what was almost a sixth sense: he knew instinctively how close a victim was to cumming at any given time. He used that skill now, teasing the desperate cock with the infuriatingly soft feathers, stroking them so maddeningly lightly – hardly touching – over the boy’s rock-hard erection, stopping each time he felt orgasm was near, waiting a while, then starting again.

Sweat was running down Dylan’s face under the hood. Time and time again he felt orgasm approaching. His body prepared for a monumental orgasm – his heart rate increased, his blood pressure spiked – endorphins gathered in the wings, ready to flood his brain with ecstasy: he knew that this time he would cum – only to have it snatched from him at the last second as the bastard down below removed all stimulation just a split second too soon, and he was left flailing helplessly, unable to achieve that longed-for state of bliss that was orgasm. And then the bastards would start again. He would go mad. He knew it. He couldn’t stand one more of these unbearable cycles. It was pure, unadulterated torture . But at the same time it felt so mind-fuckingly good.

The feathers worked on his cock and on his balls...

it got worse and worse. Dylan lost all track of time. He didn’t know whether he’d been on the table for ten minutes or ten hours.

The feathers stroked, teased, and tickled...

In the rare and brief moments that he had the opportunity to think coherently, he realised that being able to cum was not in fact something that was under his control at all. He’d never even considered that possibility before, but now it was being driven home to him with a sledgehammer.

The feathers caressed his cock, encouraging him to cum, making that need more and more intense, more and more urgent…

He hadn’t imagined that it was possible to need orgasm so badly; that the need could be so compelling, so mind-bogglingly urgent. When his cock was being worked on he was incapable of thinking about anything at all other than achieving that single thing that his body and his nervous system needed more than anything else in the world:to cum.

Again, the feathers were going to make him cum.. but again, they stopped just too soon…

He screamed with frustration, begged and pleaded...

And everything had been designed to make his suffering as intense as possible – the table and his position on it, with his desperate cock separated from him and so accessible; the sheer impossibility of getting away from the unbearable stimulation; or of increasing it enough to enable him to cum, or of controlling it in any way; the feel of the leather between his legs, turning him on even more; the leather of the hood pressing tight over his face, blindfolding him, making him feel so helpless… And the fact that Todd and the other guy were so expertly - and so effortlessly - making him suffer this unendurable, delicious and exquisite torture. Every one of these things got to him in a way that was the most horny thing he had ever experienced – or could ever imagine experiencing.

The devilish feathers teased and tormented his desperate, horny cock...

And it went on.

And on.

And there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it...

* * *

Guy ducked out of the chair and stood up. He put on a black leather mask, and removed the hood from Dylan’s head, then took a step backwards so that the boy could see him. “Hi. I’m Guy.”

“Oh fuck...” Dylan groaned. His blond hair was matted with sweat, but his eyes were open wide as he looked Guy up and down. Leather jacket with the collar turned up; black leather mask; skintight, bulging leather jeans; fuck-off biker boots; and black leather gloves. Not an inch of skin visible, but what Dylan saw was a vision of pure sexual perversion straight out of his darkest wank fantasies. “Oh fuuuuuuuuck...”

Standing on a block, Guy climbed onto the table and lay down on top of Dylan, pressing his leathers all over the boy’s naked skin. His boots even wrapped round the boy’s feet, the buckles digging into the backs of his legs. He took his gloved hands and pulled Dylan’s head back, gagging and blindfolding him with the black leather. “Now,” he said, to Todd.

Below the table, Todd put one of the feathers down, and concentrated on the remaining one. He applied it to the boy’s cock, running it in circles over the engorged head.

Within seconds Dylan was on the very edge of cumming again. Every muscle was tensed, and he stopped breathing. For a couple of heartbeats, Todd froze his hand, and then used the tip of the feather just on the piss-slit of the boy’s cock. He stroked it back and forth over the two little bumps, hardly touching at all. Back and forth, back and forth…

A slow, low whine escaped from around the gagging leather glove, as the pointed end of the feather worked gently but irresistably on the very tip of his cock – he was held, poised on the very brink of orgasm. Time slowed to a crawl, almost stopped completely for the boy. The stimulation of the feather was tiny, but it was relentless, and it was cumulative. Dylan’s entire consciousness was focussed on the very tip of his cock: that one square millimeter where the feather was stroking, back and forth - and finally, after what seemed like eternity, there came a point when that almost imperceptible movement of the soft feather over the now supremely hypersensitive piss-slit pushed him gently, but with unbelievable force, over the edge.

The dam burst. Dylan screamed into Guy’s leather-gloved, gagging hand, and fought the restraints with every ounce of energy he had as he started to cum. Thick, hot gobs of boy-spunk pumped out of his cock, saturating the feather immediately. Todd dropped it and took the tip of the bucking cock into his mouth. He held the head between his lips as his hot, wet tongue milked the spunk out of the thrashing boy. He swallowed as fast as he could but he couldn’t keep up, and spunk ran down his face.

Guy’s leather-gloved hands were clamped tight over Dylan’s eyes and mouth as the boy’s body continued to jerk madly and uncontrollably beneath him. It went on for what seemed like ages, but finally the thrashing decreased, the flow of spunk slowed, then stopped. Todd sucked the last drops of spunk out of the spent cock gently, then released it. Guy turned Dylan’s head and gently kissed him through the leather mask. Dylan looked at the black leather face, then closed his eyes and returned the kiss. He would, he thought, be seeing a lot more of Guy in the near future. He was in love with this leatherboy, and he had just had an experience he would remember for the rest of his life.

* * *

“So why are you two looking so smug?” Debbie had to shout over the noise of the crackling bonfire. They were standing in the grounds, warming themselves while they waited for the firework display to start. She peered over the top of her make-up mirror for a moment before going back to applying a particularly unsuitable shade of lipstick.

Dylan raised his eyebrows, trying for innocence, but didn’t quite make it.

“Boy stuff. You wouldn’t understand,” said Todd.

Debbie smirked. “You know nothing about boys. You may be boys but you know nothing about them. Trust me. It takes a girl to know how boys work.”

Todd glanced at Dylan and they both fought to stop themselves from laughing.

Debbie put the makeup back into her bag and squinted at them. A green fingernail glinted in the firelight as it wagged from one to the other. “Wait a minute.. are you two an item?”

“No, as it happens we’re not.”

Debbie didn’t look convinced. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in.”

A waiter appeared with a tray of drinks, and they each took a glass.

Just then the fireworks began.

Debbie looked up to the top of the bonfire where a wooden effigy was in flames. “A toast,” she said. “To guys!”

“To guys!” Agreed Todd.

Dylan luxuriated in the feel of the new black leather biker jacket he’d been given.

“To Guy...”