By lthr_jock

“How long has he been in there?” Gordon looked down at the leather clad figure suspended in the air in front of him. He resisted the temptation to stroke Mike’s leathered form and instead turned to the smaller man beside him and reached out with his gloved hand to cup Tom’s chin.

“Two and a half hours. He’s cum three times so far.” Tom looked up at Gordon, his chin held softly but firmly by the taller man. He sniffed deeply, enjoying the smell of the leather. “Are you really not going to fuck him? I mean, he’s gorgeous.”

Gordon smiled and released Tom’s chin. He walked around Mike before replying. “No. This isn’t about that. If I was to do that, the whole thing would fall apart. No. This is about control.” He paused and returned to Tom’s side. “And power. You understand power, don’t you Tom?”

Tom nodded and looked down at himself. His short, muscular frame was naked and locked in a set of heavy slave chains. His ankles were shackled with 6 inches of chain between them. His throat was circled by a thick band of steel, and his wrists were secured tightly in front of him. He was wearing his own shackles, the shackles he usually locked on other men and at the moment he understood the concept of control perfectly.

“I see that, but what are you getting out of it?” Gordon sighed – Tom still had so much to learn. He stepped closer to the smaller man and grabbed the chain linking his collar and wrist shackles and used it to pull Tom close to him. Leaning down he kissed Tom long and hard before releasing him. “I,” he paused again, “I, Tom, am enjoying controlling a copper – and a straight copper at that.”

He turned away, took something from a wall and stepped back. “But you’re right – I need to fuck as well.” Before Tom could ask anything else, Gordon pushed a heavy rubber ball gag into his mouth and strapped it tightly in place. He then pushed the normally dominant man into a corner, where he bent him forwards over a bench. Tom submissively lay there as Gordon unbuttoned his trousers. Tom felt the soft fleshiness of Gordon’s cock against his hole as the taller man leant over him. “So, Tom, do you want to help me out with that?” Tom nodded and grunted into the gag and was rewarded as Gordon pushed deep inside him and began to steadily fuck him. As he did, Gordon looked across the room at the bound form of Mike. He smiled as he imagined fucking the policeman, and he wondered what Mike was thinking.

***

Mike, inside the cocoon of leather, could only hear faint noises outside as the padded hood pressed tight around his ears. He could feel the tension of the leather holding him in place, the warmth of his sweat and the stickiness around his crotch from where he had cum. He had done so three times, so he knew he had been in there for a couple of hours, but he had no way to measure the passing of time. The only thing he could clearly hear was the thunder of his own pulse in his ears.

Not for the first time, he wondered why he was allowing this to happen, why he was abasing himself to these men. As he thought back on what had been done to him, on the clothes he had to wear and the people he had to defer to, he felt his cock rising again. He let himself go, spiralling down into the pleasure of the situation until he bucked in the leather and came again.

Mike then drifted off to sleep. He had no idea how much time had passed before he awoke to the familiar pressure of the floor beneath him and he realised that he had been lowered. He could feel hands unbuckling the straps on his head and he closed his eyes as the hood was removed. He gingerly opened them to see Tom looking down on him, the lights in the room dimmed so they didn’t blind him.

“So, Mikey, did you have fun?”

Mike nodded. “Yes, Master Tom, thank you.”

Tom grinned and began the long job of un-strapping Mike from the gear. He then handed Mike a bottle of water and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. Mike headed in and spent some time under a hot shower, cleaning himself off and enjoying the feel of the hot water against his aching muscles. He took his time, and then towelled down, the marks from the straightjacket and hood still visible on his skin. He ran his hand over his shaved head, still amazed at the change he had submitted to and then wrapped a towel around himself and headed back out. He found his clothes on a chair outside the bathroom – this time with the bleachers that had been missing at the gym – and he quickly got dressed.

Lacing the boots up took some time and when he was done he headed downstairs to find Tom sat watching television. Tom nodded towards the kitchen. “There’s sandwiches and a pot of coffee in there. Help yourself.” Mike did so, realising he was ravenously hungry. He collected a cup of coffee and a sandwich that looked to contain ham and salad and returned. He was unsure what to do – did Tom expect him to sit on the floor? Tom laughed and moved to one side “No worries – you can sit on the sofa. Here, thought you’d like to see what you looked like.” On his TV, Tom pulled up a suite of pictures of Mike in the straitjacket and suspension, interspersed with a couple of short videos of him writhing helplessly. Mike gulped down the food without looking down. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, and he could feel his cock getting hard again. By the time he finished his coffee and sandwich, he was making a noticeable bulge in his bleachers. Tom looked at his watch. “Right, time for me to go. We’ll talk again, Mikey.” As Mike stood up, Tom noticed the bulge and laughed again. “Gordon was right. You ARE a horny little fucker.”

Mike went to sit down again, but Tom stopped him. “Sorry – out you go.” Mike was glad he was parked in a garage so that no one had the chance to see his bulge as he got into his car. As he started to navigate his way home, he kept thinking about what had happened, and each time his tired cock swelled again. He grunted in discomfort and adjusted it each time. As he drove past his local supermarket, he remembered he was short of a few things so without thinking he pulled in and went inside.

He wandered around the shop only half aware of the people around him, grabbing what he needed and putting it in a basket. He was jerked back to reality by the sound of something clattering to the floor behind him. He spun around to see a woman pushing her child behind her, the milk she had dropped ignored on the floor. The woman was staring at someone behind Mike with distaste and she backed away. Mike looked around to see who it was, but there was no one there. Puzzled, he turned back, but the woman had gone. Shrugging, he carried on shopping until he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror – with his shaved head, skin-tight bleachers secured with a Union Jack belt buckle and tucked into knee-high red Ranger boots and a leather MA1 jacket with Union Jack patches on both shoulders. he looked like the typical skinhead thug. Mike stepped back, shocked at the realisation of what the woman must have been thinking. What the hell was he doing? He was appalled – and at the same time aroused as he felt his cock swelling again. With confusion, he headed for the checkout, paid and got home as fast as he could.

***

The next few weeks passed quickly – Mike was busy at work and he got into a routine at the gym that he enjoyed. Tom re-assessed Mike and upped his weights and he was now doing a much harder set – still lots of cardio, but an increase in weight training as well and he was starting to feel it as his upper body swelled. The changes were enough to make his clothes tighter – so the fetish gear he was forced to wear felt even more restrictive. Twice he came home to find parcels were waiting for him with neighbours. Each time he found that “he” had ordered more gear and it joined his now impressive supply of kit. Each night he followed Gordon’s rules and restrained himself to the bed – but now he used more chains and restraints and had got adept at using the time locks he had been provided with. He also made use of the hoods, muzzles and harnesses he was now provided with and spent hours each night helplessly restrained. Virtually every night he managed to cum without touching his cock as just the thought of submitting like this was enough to get him off.

It had caused a couple of tricky conversations with Dave. He used to socialise with Dave regularly, and he was terrified that if he invited his friend around Dave would look into the bedroom and see the changes that had been made. He was also concerned about Gordon’s first rule – although he had stopped using his furniture, Dave would think it bizarre if he knelt on the floor. As a result, he rebuffed his friend’s suggestions. Dave also kept asking questions about why Mike had shaved his head. Mike was keeping it shaved smooth and using wax on it every day so it shone, and while other people at work had accepted it, Dave hadn’t. Mike kept making excuses but he could tell Dave wasn’t satisfied.

Mike spoke to Gordon a couple of times, but had not met up with him. As time passed he was getting more frustrated – the longer he went, the more he wanted another session. He saw Tom at the gym and as the weeks passed he hoped that Tom would restrain him again. Several times he and Tom were the only people in the gym, and Mike would deliberately strip down to lycra or spandex shirt and shorts rather than the more discrete tracksuits he normally wore. Tom ignored this and just commented on Mike’s workout. After nearly six weeks, Mike was frustrated and on the way home from work he was running through the way he would restrain himself overnight. He had decided that he would spend the night in the cage under the bed and was thinking about what gear he would lock on. His cock was tenting his bleachers as he opened the door to his flat and walked in.

He stopped short. Gordon was sat in a chair in a full leather uniform, his booted feet up on the table, reading a newspaper. Without looking up he said, “Mikey. Clothes on the bed. You have five minutes.” Without thinking, Mike headed into the bedroom and stripped off his clothes eagerly. His cock was hard already as he grabbed the mass of leather straps and buckles that was lying there. He was familiar with this – a full body slave harness. He had struggled with it on the first couple of times he put it on, but had it worked out now and soon his torso was criss-crossed with black leather straps. He pulled his cock through the crotch ring and secured the final strap. He checked himself in the mirror. His toned muscles looked good bulging between the leather straps and his cock was hard in front of him. He grabbed the next item – a leather hood and pulled it on. It zipped up at the back and had pinprick eyes and an open mouth. He secured it in place with the final item – a thick leather collar – and then went back into the main room, where he knelt down opposite Gordon.

Gordon ignored him for a minute or so and then folded his paper and put it down on the sofa. “Come here.” He pointed at a position on the floor beside his legs. Mike moved to there and knelt still as Gordon attached padlocks to every buckle and locked it in place. “Very good. Now time to start some training. By the door you will find a bag. Get it.”

Mike turned and saw a carrier bag by the door. He started to stand to get it, but Gordon snapped “STOP! On your knees, boy.”

Mike went to all fours and crawled over to the door. He then paused unsure of how to carry the bag back. He gently picked up the handles with his teeth and carried it back to beside Gordon.

“Good lad. Now, inside you will find boot-cleaning gear. Clean my boots.”

Mike opened the bag. Inside he could see brushes, cloths and a tin of parade wax. Mike was used to spit-shining boots and could get a good gleam on them – so he reached in the bag, took out the tin of polish and started work.

Mike had never cleaned a pair of boots while someone was wearing them before, so he had a couple of false starts to get into the right position. Once he did, he soon got into the rhythm of it – spit into the wax, rub the cloth in to make a paste then smear across the boot leather, rubbing it in and at the same time massaging the flesh beneath. As he proceeded, he could hear small grunts of pleasure from Gordon and he smiled as he was obviously doing a good job. Gordon noticed the smile. “IF you have time to smile, you’re clearly not working hard enough.” As Mike bent back to his work, Gordon reached around his head and pushed a ball gag into Mike’s mouth. Now he had to use the drool generated by the gag to mix with the polish. As a result, he took longer with each swipe on the cloth and rubbed it deeper and longer into the leather. By the time he had finished both boots, he was drooling like an animal and ropes of it had fallen down across his chest, stomach and erect cock. He then grabbed the brush and started buffing the boot leather, making light brisk strokes across it to make it gleam. Finally, he took the soft cloth and stroked each boot until they shone like mirrors. Mike leaned forward and could see his reflection in the boot – hooded, gagged and heavily collared. The sight made his groan and he felt precum dripping from his cock.

Gordon looked critically down at the boots. “Good job, Mikey – but you have to learn to control yourself. Can’t have you making a mess in public, can we?”

Mike looked up and grunted a question at Gordon, who just grinned and ran his leathered hand over Mike’s hooded head. “You’ll find out more on Saturday. Now, let’s get you ready for bed.”

Gordon stood up and headed for the bedroom. Mike knew better than to walk after him, so crawled across the floor behind the leather-clad man. By the time he got there, Gordon had already got some items out – he clearly knew his way around.

“Stand up.”

Mike did so, and Gordon strapped thick straps over Mike’s biceps, padlocking them in place. He then pushed fist mitts over Mike’s hands and locked them on, linking them with a heavy padlock. He then stepped behind Mike and ran a length of chain between the bicep straps. He then tightened it, pulled Mike’s arms back and towards each other until the padlock between the fist mitts prevented any more movement. Gordon then pushed Mike onto the bed and onto his front. He locked leather ankle straps on and then padlocked them together. He then used the end of the chain linking Mike’s biceps to pull his ankles up behind his back into a hog tie. Gordon rolled Mike over onto his side and pulled a gas mask down over the helpless policeman’s head.

“So, Mikey, how does that feel?” Gordon didn’t wait for a reply, just looked down at Mike’s tumescent cock that was leaking precum onto the rubber sheet of the bed. “Don’t bother, I can see you’re having fun. So that’s you settled for the night. Oh, one thing, I texted PC Dave Stensland and told him you need a lift in the morning. He’ll be around at 6 a.m.” Ignoring the yells and shouts coming from the gagged and gas-masked man, Gordon moved Mike’s alarm clock so he would be able to read it. “Time to see how good you are, Mr Houdini.” With a laugh, he left the room.

Mike yelled into the gag and writhed as much as he could – but the restraints were tight and he could do little to get free. He then realised his fingers were trapped in leather mitts, so even if the restraints hadn’t been padlocked on, he would be unable to free himself. He looked up at the clock – 19:27. Still plenty of time, but Mike could not see how he could possibly get out of the restraints. He wriggled onto his front and winced as his erect cock caught under him. He could now see that the tube on the gas mask was running over the edge of the bed. He humped his way over to the edge and looked down to see that it ended in an opaque jar. He had no idea what was in it and no way to stop inhaling the fumes from whatever it was. He tried to move again, but the rubber sheet under him was slippery and it took several minutes before he could back onto his side facing the clock.

Mike laughed to himself – he had been thinking that he wanted something to happen, but he hadn’t imagined this. If he couldn’t get free in just over 10 hours, then his partner would find him and his secret would be out. Mike shook his head as his vision blurred – he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. He swore incoherently into the gag as he realised that Gordon had put something in the jar that would make him fall asleep. He tried to roll over, but the rubber sheet was already sweaty and he couldn’t get any purchase on it. Finally he managed to flip himself over, but as he did his eyes closed and Mike fell asleep.

Gordon waited in the next room. He had heard the grunting and thrashing around and peered around the door to make sure Mike was alright. Now the policeman was lying asleep, his breathing deep and regular. Gordon walked into the room and, leaving the gas mask in place, removed Mike from the hogtie. Once he was sure Mike had enough of the gas, he removed the gas mask and the gag and then finally he took off the mitts, replacing them with locked wrist restraints. Leaving the keys on the bed, he left.

***

Mike blinked as he came around. He had a pounding headache and it took him a while to orient himself. His biceps were still locked behind him and his ankles still locked together. His hands were still in front of him – but now the mitts were gone and they were padlocked together by a pair of wrist restraints. He rolled over – difficult in the pool of sweat on the rubber sheets – and looked at the alarm clock: 05:45. He had very little time. Mike sat up as best as he could and looked around. He saw the keys on the sheet and dived for them. He quickly found that the slicked sheets were difficult to move over, but he managed to get to them. He then started to fumble with them on the padlock around his wrists. He was lucky and he got it on the first try, so he turned his attention to the wrist restraints. They too came off fairly quickly.

Mike checked the clock – still 12 minutes to go and then started to try and reach around to the padlock securing his biceps together behind him. After several minutes of futilely trying to reach it, he groaned at his own stupidity and instead tried the small padlocks on the straps. There were lots of small keys, but he managed to find the ones for the straps and got them removed, letting his arms move freely. He winced as they cramped, but couldn’t wait, so he carried on working on the slave harness. He only had to get a few of straps unlocked and he was able to slide the harness off over his head, though his once again rock hard cock made getting the cock ring difficult to get off.

Mike heard a car horn and sneaked a peek out of the window to see Dave’s car in the middle of the road. Mike grabbed at the keys and desperately tried to find the one that fitted the collar. He heard the car horn again, and then his front door bell rang. Mike tried another key and then dropped them. Scrabbling around, he grabbed them as his doorbell rang a second time. Mike desperately tried key after key. He’d forgotten which ones he’d tried before so was having to work out which one of 10 keys was the right one. He just had to hope that Dave hadn’t brought the spare key to the flat with him.

“Mike, you alright?”

Damn – it seems he had and Dave had let himself in.

“Err…one sec Dave. I’ll be there in a sec.” He tried the last key, and to his relief it slipped into the lock and turned. He ripped off the collar and hood and ran for the bedroom door as he heard Dave approaching.

“Come on, Mike, we’re going to be late.”

Mike grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist and then stepped into the hall and put his finger up to his lips.

“Oh – you have someone in there?”

Mike nodded and led Dave back to the front room. “Just give me a sec to get my stuff.

“You mean that stuff there?” Dave pointed at Mike’s kit bag that was by the settee and the pile of clothes on it.

“Err yes. I thought I’d do that so she didn’t get woken up.”

Dave nodded “OK, but fucking hurry up. I don’t want to be late because you’re getting your end away.”

Mike grabbed the clothes and slipped into the bathroom, where he leant against the wall, gasping with relief. He took a few seconds to get himself together and then quickly he showered. He ran his hands over his head – he would need to shave it this evening, but he didn’t have the time for now. He grabbed the clothing Gordon had left out for him and pulled on a jockstrap, a pair of combat trousers and DMs. He finished off with a green T-shirt and a black MA1. He headed outside. “Sorry about that – right let’s go.”

Dave looked at what he was wearing. “Damn, Mike, we’re going to have to get someone to take you shopping. You look like a right thug.”

With that the two men headed off to work. On the way there, Mike received a text message.

“Hope you had fun. You see, all you need to do is trust me, and everything will be alright. See you on Saturday. G”

 

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Metal would like to thank the author, lthr_jock, for this story. If you enjoyed it be sure to leave a comment in the comments section!