By lthr_jock

PC Jim Maxwell paced nervously up and down. He was in his Inspectors office and had now been waiting for Inspector Turner for 15 minutes. Three weeks out of Hendon and already summoned to the office. He had no idea why, but he was sure he had done something wrong. He racked his brain but couldn’t think of anything. Since joining, he’d done everything right and had received no criticisms from his Sergeant. Sure, it had been easier for him that for some of the other recruits — at 27, he was older than them and the 9 years he’d served in the army had got him used to the sort of discipline required in the police.

Even so he was worried. He ran his fingers nervously through his hair — while not long, it was no longer in the tight military cut he was used too. His 6ft frame moved lightly across the floor, despite the weight of his muscles.

Always a big man, he had already found the usefulness of his size in dealing with awkward situations.

“Ah good, you’re here, Maxwell.”

As the Inspector entered the room, reflexes brought Jim to attention. The Inspector smiled.

“At ease, Maxwell.”

“Sorry, Sir. Army reflex.”

“No problems, son. Take a seat.”

The Inspector waited for Jim to get settled and opened the personnel file that he’d brought in with him. After a few moments reflection he closed the file again and faced Jim.

“Maxwell, I’ve called you in here as there’s a job I’d like you to do for me. Now, I know you’re very new and normally this kind of task wouldn’t be given to someone still working their probation. However, we’ve tried all the normal avenues and got nowhere. We need someone unknown who can go undercover.”

Jim started with surprise. “Undercover, Sir? But that requires…”

“Extensive training and experience. Yes I know. The problem is that we suspect that someone on the inside is giving information about our undercover operatives. So we need a new face, someone who can handle himself, but is unknown to anyone working the normal police channels. In point of fact — you. Your record in the army is impeccable and you passed the training with a very high mark indeed. I’m confident that you could do this. It won’t be a long assignment. I would imagine it will all be over in 4-6 weeks. Are you interested? I’m sure I don’t need to point out how good this would look on your record.”

Jim thought for a moment, before nodding and asking for more details.

“Great. I knew you were the right man for the job. The background is this: for some months now we’ve been aware of criminal activities centring on a nightclub in Soho called Inferno. It seems to be connected to a string of robberies as well as suspected links to money laundering and the selling of low-level narcotics. The club has been raided several times, as well as the home of the owner, but we have found nothing. Two undercover policemen have been sent in, but were spotted immediately, which led me to suspect that we have an informer inside the force. What we want you to do, is infiltrate the club, see what’s going on there and get us some stronger information on what’s going on and who’s behind it.”

“Sounds straightforward enough, Sir. I can pass myself off as a club guest and gain access that way.”

“Yes, but there’s a wrinkle, which is why you’ll need to go completely undercover. Inferno is a gay club, so we’ll need to set you up with a new identity and background. Is that a problem?”

Jim squirmed a little in his chair. This “wrinkle” made the job much more difficult — but it would do his career good to have this on his record, and it never hurts to have a senior officer owing you a favour. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d have to actually do anything, just go in and observe.

“No problems, Sir. When do I start?”

“As soon as possible.” Turner opened a drawer in his desk and brought out a thick document folder. “In here are details of your background, supporting documentation, driving license, fake ID and the address of your flat in Balham. As I see you’re a bike rider, we’ve provided you with a bike rather than a car. The folder also contains details about the club, its owner and the staff. Your name is Ben Davies and you’ve just moved into town from your home in Plymouth. Your parents died recently, leaving you the money which bought you the flat and which you’re living on until you get a job. All the background information is there, and you need to memorise it as soon as possible. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“One last thing. You’ll need new clothes.” The Inspector handed over a business card. “Go here and ask for Kyle. He’s expecting you. He’ll get you kitted out and advise you on what to wear to Inferno.”

The inspector stood up and leaned forward to shake Jims’ hand. Realising he was being dismissed, Jim, stood as well.

“Good luck, Maxwell. The folder contains details of how you will report in, as well as a mobile phone with an emergency number on it. There’s a GPS chip in the phone that will allow us to track your location.”

The Inspector looked at his watch. “I have another meeting to attend now. Kyle is expecting you at 14:00.”

With that, the Inspector ushered Jim out of his office. Jim checked his watch and looked at the address on the card. It was 12:30 already, which gave him very little time. He headed down to the locker room, to get changed out of his uniform. He had just enough time to pop back to his bedsit and change into something suitably un-noticeable. Selecting a pair of old jeans, t-shirt and trainers, he slipped into an old sweatshirt and pulled an old Arsenal baseball cap on. Satisfied he wasn’t noticeable, he headed out.

The address that Turner had given him was a warehouse just off Clapham High Street. Jim looked around the front and could see no way it. Looking around the side, he spotted a discrete door with an entry phone beside it. He pressed the bell and stood close to the door, trying to look inconspicuous.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Ji… Ben Davies. I understand you’re expecting me.”

“Ah, Mr… Davies. Yes, come on in and head up the stairs.”

With a buzz, the door unlocked and Jim walked inside. Instead of a warehouse, he found himself at the foot of a well decorated staircase. He headed up and onto a small landing with another security door. The door opened, revealing a man just taller than Jim, with cropped black hair and wearing jeans and a T-shirt which was tight enough to display his impressive musculature. Jim stared in surprise – if this was Kyle, he had been expecting someone far more effeminate.

“Hi, I’m Kyle.” Kyle held out his hand, “Come on inside”

Kyle led Jim into a small reception area with two changing room doors off it. Pictures on the wall showed various models — all male — wearing clothes which varied from formal suits, to swimwear. Kyle waved Jim to a chair.

“Right, Officer … sorry, I mean Mr. Davies,” he grinned mischievously. “I understand we need to clothe you for a work assignment. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Ok, and I understand you will be expected to go to a club called Inferno and to fit in?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

Kyle laughed. “Oh no, not at all, though you may end up wearing clothes that you really don’t expect to.”

Before Jim could ask what he meant by that, Kyle stood up and pulled a tape measure and PDA out of his pocket.

“Right, time to get some measurements. Take off your sweatshirt, please.”

In brisk, efficient style, Kyle measured Jim and noted the measurements down in the PDA. He then headed through the staff door, coming back a couple of minutes later with a handful of clothes. “Try these on for starters.”

For the next hour, Jim tried on several sets of clothes, including suits, sports gear and leisure wear. To his surprise, none of it seemed “gay” to him, although he had to admit that the cut was a lot tighter than he would have normally picked. By this time, several bags and suit covers were full of clothes, and he was wondering how he was going to get them all to his new flat.

Kyle saw his look. “Don’t worry, all of this will be couriered over to your flat by 5pm. Right, now we need to get something for Inferno. Go into the changing room and I’ll bring something through for you.”

Jim went into the changing room and stripped out of the bleached jeans, Fred Perry shirt and boots that he had been wearing. Kyle tapped on the door. “I’ll leave it out here. Oh, and you’ll need to remove your underwear for this.”

After Jim heard Kyle move away he opened the door and grabbed the pile of clothes lying there. Looking at the armful in shock he raised his voice “Are you sure this is the right stuff?”

Kyle’s voice came from around the corner. “Yes. I know it’s unusual, but you’ll get used to it.”

Jim shrugged, removed his pants and began pulling on the strange attire. First was a jockstrap made of black leather. This was followed by a tight pair of chaps that showed his leg muscles off as he zipped them around his legs. He then added socks and a pair of knee-high glossed boots. He then shrugged into a leather tank top, only realising when he pulled it on, that its low-scooped front left most of his chest exposed, including his nipples. The last item was a thick leather wristband, which he buckled around his left wrist. For the first time feeling less than confident, he headed out of the changing room.

Kyle was waiting for him. “Well, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever been dressed like that. Turn around and let me take a look.” Jim did so, as he had for all the other clothes, realising a little too late that the chaps and jock left his arse almost completely on view. Kyle didn’t seem to react.

“Yes, I think that’s fine. One small alteration, though.” Deftly, he unbuckled the wristband and re-secured it around Jim’s right wrist. “Is that important?”

“Definitely. You may have the build of a Top, but your lack of confidence will make it obvious you’re not. Might as well go in looking right. OK, well I think we’re finished here. Change out of that into something less … indiscrete, and I’ll pack it up with the other things. I’ll add some other things as well for you. Wouldn’t want you to have to wear the same things on every visit, would we?”

“Guess not, and thanks.” Jim hastily changed out of the leather, opting for a combination of jeans, white T-shirt and black leather jacket. Thanking Kyle again, he headed out for his new flat in Balham.

 

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This story originally appeared on Eckie AKA Bondagefan, and it is being re-posted here with the author’s permission.

 

Copyright © 2007 and 2015 by lthr_jock.

 

All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

 

This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use and other adult themes.

 

Metal would like to thank lthr_jock for granting permission for this story, which has previously appeared on other websites, to be re-posted here.