Vickers placed a small set of steps behind Clark and went up the couple of steps he needed to so that he could talk to the restrained male.
“OK, Samuel, so here’s the plan. You can still move your hands inside the rubber, so when you want a drink just make a fist with your left hand. Try it now.” He looked down and saw Clark make a fist and then release it to once again show his hand splayed out between the two sheets of rubber.
“Good. Now you’re going to be here for quite a while – so if you absolutely HAVE to get out I want you to clench your right hand. Do it now so I know you’ve understood me.” He looked down and confirmed the movement. “Excellent. Oh – one thing. If you insist on leaving before the end of the show, you don’t get any money taken off your debt.” Vickers chuckled at the outraged grunts from inside the rubber. “Now, now, Samuel, that’s no way to talk to the man who isn’t chained in a rubber vac rack. So, make a fist if you understand.” After a short pause, the man did so. “Good. Now, I just need to polish you up.” He looked up and saw that some other stall holders were wandering around before the official opening and were already paying his display some attention.
Vickers got out the rubber gloss and started spraying it over Clarks restrained form. He could see Clark shudder – as much as he could – as the spray chilled the rubber and he then went over it with a clean duster. His light strokes soon turned the already gleaming rubber into a shiny, almost iridescent surface that reflected the lights set up around the hall. He heard a murmur of appreciation from behind him and looked over his shoulder to see that the group of fellow exhibitors was growing. He paid some attention to Clark’s crotch. The mans already hard cock was pointing straight up his towards his navel and a few delicate rubs with the cloth made it stand out even more. He noticed Clark’s right hand briefly clench and then relax as the big man gave in to the situation. Clark’s cock looked even bigger outlined and defined by the rubber and Vickers looked forward to a time when he would be able to get his mouth around it.
He then went around to Clark’s back and did the same, ending up with a beautiful view of his back. All the rubber was now gleaming and both Clark and the restraints were clearly outlined. He stepped back and there was a small round of applause from the exhibitors. Several stepped forward to speak to him and two went forward to Clark, walking around the man and commenting that it was good to see a “decent” size man in restraint for a change. Any further discussion was interrupted by the bell indicating that the hall was now open for business.
The next eight hours were manic for Vickers. Clark’s masculine, muscular body had exactly the desired effect – it drew people from all over the hall and he was constantly surrounded by interested, excited people. There must have been hundreds of photos and selfies taken with “Samuel” and their interest didn’t stop there. The orders for Vickers’ designs went through the roof and it was all he could do to remember to check on Clark every 15 minutes to make sure he didn’t need a drink or the vac rack didn’t need topping up.
Several times during the day, Vickers looked up to see people enjoying themselves by stroking Clark’s vulnerable body, rubbing his muscles through the gleaming black rubber – and some more adventurous souls who were slapping his solid muscled arse cheeks and teasing his rock-hard cock. At one point a cheer went up as it was obvious that the helpless man had cum inside the rubber, the tightness of it being enough to show the spasming of his cock.
Vickers expected that Clark would opt out after no more than an hour. To his surprise, his right hand remained relaxed, though the left hand often made a fist as Clark asked for more fluid. Each time, Vickers linked a squeezy bottle to the tube sticking out of Clarks mouth and grinned as he imagined Clark working the rubber cock in his mouth to suck the fluid down. The fluid was basically orange squash – again infused with some drugs to increase Clark’s sensation and pleasure.
As the exhibition closed for the day, Vickers put up the curtain around the display and lowered Clark back to the floor. He unzipped Clark, revealing the reddened, sweaty man under the rubber. Clark was running with sweat and opening the rubber bag let out a hot burst of air smelling of the ripe man inside. Clark blinked at the light and looked away, giving Vickers time to admire his chiselled physique, hair matted all over it and his crotch still bearing the obvious signs that Clark had cum during the day.
Vickers unlocked Clark’s collar and belt and released his wrists. He handed the sweaty man a towel, a 2 litre bottle of water and helped him to a sitting position. Clark gulped the water down and started to towel his matted hair. As he looked down he could see the pools of sweat around where he was sat and noticed that his crotch hair was still smeared with cum. Flushing he rubbed it off and hoped Vickers had not noticed. Vickers smiled to himself and released Clark all the way. Clark started to stand up and lurched as his legs nearly buckled. Vickers got his shoulder under Clarks Arm and helped Clark to his feet, enjoying the feel of the older, bigger man’s body up against his own.
“Careful – your muscles are probably tired from being in one position.” Once he was sure Clark was OK, he grabbed the bag with Clark’s clothes in and handed it to the prison guard. Clark towelled down as much as he could and slipped his clothes on. He was still over-heated and sweating, so almost immediately his clothes showed dark patches as he began to sweat through it. He looked down ruefully.
“Damn, I should have just brought that rubber gear down to wear.” Vickers stopped in amazement “You brought that with you?” Clark blushed, “Well, you know, I thought I might as well.” He turned away. “OK, I’m heading for the shower. Same time tomorrow?” Vickers nodded and watched Clark head out through the curtain.
All around Clark, the exhibition was closing down for the night. Clark hunched his shoulders and didn’t look up as he quickly headed for the exit. Back in his room, he chugged down another 3 glasses of water and then took a long cool shower. He had slightly reddened marks around his wrists, ankles, waist and neck from the restraints but they didn’t show up too much. As he touched them in the shower he thought back on the experience of the day and very quickly he spattered cum all over the shower door.
Clark came out of the shower and collapsed on the bed. Although he hadn’t done anything all day, he was exhausted and he decided to close his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them, the room was dark and he realised he had slept for several hours. He could hear the faint pulse of music and he realised the party must have started. Clark had no desire to go to the party, so pulled on a rugby shirt and jogging trousers and headed down to the restaurant. To his surprise he had missed dinner and the receptionist informed him he could get some food in the bar. Clark headed in, finding it virtually empty and settled himself at the bar where he could get a good view of the TV which was showing a rugby match. He ordered a plate of fish and chips and a lager and settled down to watch the match.
Half an hour later, he was tucking into his food and had just ordered his second pint. He looked up to see the two rugby players he had seen at dinner last night sit down beside him. Both were already looking at the TV. The closest caught his eye: “What’s the score?”
“Wasps are leading 24 -15. But Saracens are playing a good defence.” The man thanked him and ordered 2 beers and the three men returned their attention to the match.
As happens with any group of men enjoying a shared sport, the three of them started talking and by the time the match finished Clark was buying a round for Greg and Carl. Clark was relieved to find someone normal to talk to and the three carried on talking and drinking until Carl gave out a huge yawn. He checked his watch “Damn, I’m knackered. I’m heading up to bed.” Greg looked disappointed “No! What about the party?” “Sorry, Greg, I’m just too knackered.” Carl made his goodbyes and headed upstairs. Clark looked away, vaguely uncomfortable. He took a gulp of lager and then said “The party? You were going to the party?”
“Yeah of course. We’ve been working all day and I wanted to unwind.” Greg looked up to see Clark’s quizzical look. “Greg and I make bespoke leather wear. We were running a stall all day. Damn, I really wanted to get some gear on and go to the party.” Greg quieted down, clearly a bit annoyed.
“I’ll go with you.” Clark surprised himself by the statement. Greg looked up. “Really?”
“Yeah, you know, it’s not really my thing but you seem like a decent bloke and we’ve had a laugh.”
Greg laughed out loud, lifted his glass in salute before draining it. “You, sir, are a gentleman and a scholar.” He paused and looked at Clark, a question in his gaze. “You have leathers with you?” “Well, no, but..” Before Clark could finish, Greg interrupted him “No problems, we got tons of stock upstairs. I’m sure we can get you geared up.” Greg stood up “Drink up, Clarkie, let’s get some skin o you.” Clark downed the rest of his pint and headed to the lifts with Greg. “What about Carl? Won’t he be pissed off?” “Why? We’re just going to a party – unless you were planning to seduce me?” Clark started to gabble a denial until he heard guffawing with laughter and realised he was being wound up. “Seriously, Clarkie, he’ll be fine with it.”
Greg led Clark to a room on the third floor and opened the door. “ Hey, Carl, are you decent? Clarkie is with me?” Clark heard Carl “Yeah I’m in the bathroom.” Greg nodded and opened the door “Great – Clarkie says he’ll go down to the party with me. He’s just come up to borrow some kit.” Greg led Clark into the room. It was a larger one than his – and it needed to be. The room had boxes everywhere, most of them open and showing the dark, deep gleam of leather inside. Three coat racks took up half the room and they were covered with hangers, each one holding a leather jacket of some description. The room was full of the redolent smell of new leather and even the bed had a few items scattered across it. Carl stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing except a pair of tight leather shorts and Clark got a good look at the man’s body and as he expected, Carl was heavily built with the sort of muscle that suits a rugby forward. Carl stepped forwards “I’ll get Clarkie sorted out, you go and get changed, Greg.”
Greg grabbed some heavy leather items out of the wardrobe and headed for the bathroom and Carl walked up to Clark. “So, what did you have in mind? Or do you just want something basic.” “B..Basic I think,” Clark stammered. “Your first time in leather eh?” Clark thought back to the hood Vickers had locked on him and decided not to mention it. Instead he nodded. “Thought so. I’ll keep it simple then – shirt, trousers, jacket and boots. Sit down and ee’ll see what we can find.” Carl started to sort through the boxes, taking items out and discarding them while Clark sat nervously on the edge of the bed.
His weight on the bed disturbed one of the items on there and it slid towards the floor. Clark grabbed for it, but only caught half of it and grunts at its’ weight. Carl looked up at the crash “Sorry, sorry,” said Clark and put the item back. He looked at it, but still couldn’t work out what it was. “What is that anyway?” Carl was walking towards him with a pair of leather trousers over one arm, and a hanger with a thick stitched leather jacket on the other. “Nothing you would be interested in. It’s a leather straitjacket.” Clark looked at him, eyes wide “A straitjacket? You mean, like the medical things?” “Similar, yes.” Carl put the other items on the bed and lifted the straitjacket up. From this position, Clark could see how the straps and buckles worked down the back and how the long arms could be used to control the person in it.
“Or am I wrong? Maybe Clarkie likes the idea?” Clark started shaking his head until he saw that Carl was looking down at where Clark’s erection was clearly visible in his jogging trousers. “I’m sure Greg wouldn’t mind…HEY GREG.” “WHAT?” “BEST GET OUT HERE.” Greg stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot, a tight leather shirt pulled over his torso and his legs covered in a skin tight pair of leather jeans. “Greg, Clarkie likes the idea of the SJ. What do you think?” Greg grinned and stepped forwards to where Clark was still sat on the bed, looking embarrassed and trying not to meet the eye of either man. “Clarkie, Clarkie, Clarkie. It’s always the quiet ones.” Greg paused. “Well, I guess we can let you give it a test run – though there are some rules. First, I’m not going to be running up and down all night. So if you go for this, you’re in it till I come back to the room. Second, I have a reputation, so once this goes on, you call me Sir or you will be punished. Do we have a deal?”
Clark paused. He didn’t know if he could trust this guy — but the smell and look of the straitjacket was definitely working on him.
Greg and Carl didn’t move, just looked at him.
“Yes … Sir.” The two men grinned. Greg looked at the items Carl had selected and said – you’d best get something else. Shorts, chaps and boots.” Greg held up the jacket. “Right stand up, boi, strip and put your hands out.” Clark stood, pulled his clothes off and Greg started to pull the heavy leather over Clark’s arms.
“One thing..” Greg carried on pulling the jacket over Clarks arms, until his hands reached the ends and Clark realised they were reinforced with thick, solid leather that would not allow him to grab anything. He seemed to be ignoring Clark.
“One thing…Sir.” Greg paused. “What’s that?” “I need to have my face covered – I can’t be recognised.” Greg nodded “No problems – I have something for that.”
Greg pulled the jacket fully on to Clark. He realised the collar on it was of thicker leather and Greg strapped it shut around his neck. He then worked his way down the back, doing up each strap. Clark felt the heavy leather tightening around him. It was different from rubber – heavier, more binding. He felt his cock rising as his upper body was slowly restrained. Greg got down to Clarks waist, then went back up to the collar, tightening each strap. “How’s that feel?” “Pretty good.” Greg grimaced and slapped Clark’s arse. “Pretty good..Sir!” “Much better, boi.”
Carl came forward with a pair of leather chap shorts. They slid them up Clark’s legs and zipped them in place, following them with a pair of leather chaps that clung tightly to his muscled legs. Greg then took the two straps hanging down from the bottom of the jacket, ran them either side of Clark’s crotch and secured them to the back of the jacket. He then tightened them twice, making Clark grunt. “Sit down on the bed.” Clark sat down and as Greg continued to work on the jacket, Carl rolled white socks onto Clark’s feet over the chaps and then slid his feet into heavy 20 hole Ranger boots. Carl laced the boots in place, while Greg folded Clarks arms across his front and then secured them behind him. He then, as before, tightened the strap twice so that Clarks arms were tightly pulled in front of him and secured in place. He then leant over Carl to secure a leather strap around Clarks arms to ensure he could not escape. He stepped away and came back with a complex handful of leather straps. “Open your mouth.” Clark did so and a thick familiar shape was slid inside. This one was connected to a thick leather plate that covered all of his face below the nose and extended under his chin. The effect was to hold his mouth securely in place. Greg moved quickly and expertly to secure straps over Clark’s head and behind it. “Try to speak. “ “YYSSSSHH, SSRR,” was the best Clark could manage. Greg laughed “The muzzle suits you, boi. Nearly done, Carl.” “Yeah, you get yourself ready.”
While Greg went back to the bathroom, Carl finished lacing the knee high boots on. He then took heavy iron boot shackles with about 18” of chain between them and locked them over Clark’s boots. Using his strength he pulled Clark to his feet, spun him around and then pushed him face down on the bed. Scrambling on top of him, he secured each strap of the straitjacket with a padlock. Clark grunted and struggled, but could do nothing. Carl laughed, got off Clark and then helped him to his feet. “ Don’t worry – Greg and I only have sex with each other. Although, Clarkie, I have to say, you make a horny leather boi. Check yourself out.”
Carl led Clark to a full length mirror. The boots were heavy and shiny, the leather chaps showed off his muscles beautifully and the chap shorts were showing a hefty bulge as he showed his excitement. His upper body was completely restrained by the heavy leather straitjacket which held him securely in place and the muzzle made of thick leather that prevented his speech – and hid his identity. Carl turned him half around so that he could see the zip up the crack of his arse. “If we knew you better, I’d find something to shove up there – maybe next convention.” He smacked Clark’s arse, the slap against the leather almost echoing around the room. Greg’s laugh indicated his return to the room. His uniform was now complete with leather tie. Jacket, peaked cap and jackboots. He had a thick leather belt on and various bondage items hang from it and he carried a riding crop in one leather gloved hand. Putting on a pair of reflective shades he looked Clark up and down. “ Well, boi, I’d say you’re ready for the party.” Grabbing a leash, he clipped it to a ring in the front of the jackets collar and jerked on it to pull Clark closer to him. “Let’s go.” And with that, they headed for the door.
Click for next part
Click for previous part
Click to start at Part 1
Metal would like to thank the author, lthr_jock, for this story.