Busman’s Holiday – Part 14

By lthr_jock

Clark settled the leather uniform cap on his head and looked at himself in the mirror. The 8-sided cap was a leather version of the one he wore at work, and it settled snugly onto his head, pressing his gelled hair tightly against his scalp. His torso was covered with a tailored white leather shirt, complete with breast pockets, epaulettes and a name embroidered on the left chest. The black leather tie snugged it in place around his neck. His legs were in gleaming black combat trousers that clung to his muscles and showed off his thick thighs and heavy calves. His feet were in highly glossed combat boots that peeped out from under the leather trousers. Holding the trousers in place was a thick duty belt complete with baton, pepper spray and handcuffs.

Clark pulled on the final items – a pair of thin leather gloves that completed the ensemble. Three weeks ago when he had asked what kind of uniform he would be wearing, he had never imagined it would be one quite like this – an almost exact leather copy of what he wore to work.  He checked the cap was properly in place and then headed back out into the studio. Waiting for him was Greg and Carl and their photographer, Michael. By now, Clark knew what was expected of him so he walked with confidence into the brightly lit area and waited for the instructions from the three men.

Clark had been there all day and this was the fifth set of clothing he had put on. When Greg first told him what the deal was, he was worried but once Greg assured him that his face would never be seen he had agreed to do it. As a result, he had been locked in chastity for three weeks and he couldn’t wait for the shoot to be finished so that he could get released.   Clark took his direction from the men who were largely invisible behind the lights. After nearly an hour, the heat of the lamps was making him sweat in the leather and it was with a sense of relief that he finally heard Greg say, “OK, that’s our lot. Thanks, Clarkie.” He removed the cap and wiped his forehead as he walked past the lighting to find Greg and Carl hunched over a computer screen reviewing the shots. As with the ones taken earlier, Michael had been very careful to avoid including has face, taking shots from the side and behind, screening it with shadows or having bright light behind his face. Clark was impressed by Michael’s work – and had to admit he looked damn good in the leather.

Greg stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “A good day’s work, Clarkie.” He pulled a key out of his pocket. “And I guess you want this now.” Clark nodded and reached out for the key only to have Greg to snatch his hand away with a cheeky grin. “You sure, Clarkie?”

“Yes, damn it, give me the damn key, Sir.”

Greg grinned as Clark called him Sir without prompting and handed the key over. He and Carl had got what they wanted – a full day photo shoot with “Samuel” modelling their clothes. The cost of the uniform Clark was currently wearing was nothing compared to the amount they were expecting to sell by using such a fine, and currently notorious, model. “Now, Clarkie, remember the last part of the deal – you must make sure you get home before making a mess everywhere.” Clark blushed and headed back into the dressing room. He could hardly wait and without taking the uniform off, he unzipped his fly, pulled out his cuffed cock and unlocked it. He slid it off his cock, which almost immediately sprang to full length and he realised how hard to was going to be to resist immediately starting to wank.

Clark stripped off the uniform. Every time his cock touched the leather, he could feel it jump and he realised just how close he was to cumming. He stopped several times, taking deep breaths and trying to will his cock to go down. He was virtually shaking with strain by the time he got the uniform off and had got close to cumming several times. Clark stepped into the shower and deliberately turned it on cold in the hope that the water would settle his cock down. Even that did little to help – three weeks without an ejaculation had him highly aroused. Clark soaped himself down to remove the sweat of the photo shoot from him. He tried to do as little as possible around his crotch, but the lightest touch made his cock spring to full erection again. Each time he stopped until the cold water made his cock start to droop again, but he knew he could not keep going like this too long. He just hoped he would be able to get home before losing control.

He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to start to dry off. As he towelled himself down, the soft terry cloth rubbed against his cock and it once again sprang to full mast. Clark groaned and stopped. He tried to will it to go down, but it seemed to have a mind of its own and stood rock hard in front of him. Carefully he continued to dry himself, making sure the towel didn’t go anywhere near his crotch. Soon, his hairy muscled body was dry – except for his crotch, which was still damp as he did not dare try and dry it.

Clark stepped towards the locker his clothes were in and realised the door was open. He looked inside and saw that the clothes he had arrived in were gone. In their place was a glossy black tracksuit with a double white stripe down the outside of the arms and legs. He picked it up and saw a large red and white Adidas logo on it as well as Chile 62 the back as well as Chile 62 on the front. As the material brushed against his skin, he felt his cock quivering. The light, shiny material was slick in his hands and clearly his cock enjoyed the feeling. Clark heard a noise behind him and saw Greg and Carl stood in the entrance to the dressing room, both with big grins.

“Come on guys, this isn’t fair.”

“Fair?” Greg laughed. “No one said this was going to be fair, Clarkie. No, what this is about is whether you have got the grit and determination. Isn’t that right, Carl.”

“Yup. Fraid so, Clarkie. Of course, if you fail you know what the penalty is.” Clark nodded, he was fully aware of what he had agreed to. He took a deep breath and started to pull the Chile 62 suit on. He started with the jacket. As the slick material slid over his muscles, he could feel a tightening in his balls, his cock somehow getting even harder. He paused several times, but managed to get the jacket on, though he didn’t risk zipping it up preferring to leave it hanging loose. He paused, taking several deep breaths and trying to calm himself before pulling the trousers on. Almost immediately he realised he was in trouble. As he bent over to pull them on, the loose jacket rubbed against the tip of his cock and he felt it spasm. He jerked upright in surprise, but then the trousers in his hands rubbed against his cock and the feeling of that slick material was too much.

With a yell, Clark started to cum, spurting white fluid across the dressing room floor. He reached down with both hands, making sure he would now enjoy this release and pulling hard on his cock as he continued to cum. He looked up in shame as the two men applauded “Damn, Clarkie, that’s a lot of cum.” Clark blushed and reached for his towel to clean it up. His cock was still half hard as he did so. Greg walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright then, Clarkie. Forfeit time.”

Greg led Clark back out through the studio and into the main shop. In the centre of the shop, amid racks of leather clothing, was a human figure. As they got closer, Clark could see that it was a leather suit – a heavy, thick leather suit that dripped with zips, straps and laces. It could nearly stand up on its own and Clark realised that anyone inside the suit would hardly be able to move.

“Right then, Clarkie. We have a function this evening which will have a lot of prospective clients here. Normally they would be able to look at the bondage suit as you see it now. Tonight, you’re going to be modelling it. So, let’s get going.”

Greg and Carl started to unstrap and unzip the thick leather and then carried it over to Clark. They started with the trousers. The leather was far thicker than the uniform leather and when they helped him into them it was quite loose. Then they tightened laces down the outside of both legs which caused it to clench tightly against his muscles. They then used straps to make it even tighter. His cock was fully erect again and he could feel it pressing against the solid leather codpiece in the front of the trousers. As the two men went to grab the jacket, Clark took an experimental step. The leather resisted his attempt to move and he realised that just wearing this item was an experience in bondage.

As they put the jacket on him, the weight of it reminded him of the leather strait jacket. The thickness of the leather made his arms feel heavy and stiff and they forced him to stand slightly ape-like with them away from the body. Similar to the trousers, the jacket was initially loose, but as the lacing was tightened he felt it press against him. The waist of the jacket had a series of thick straps and as Greg and Carl secured them he felt them squeezing his waist almost like a corset.

Eventually the two men were satisfied and Clark experimentally moved around. He still had a surprising amount of mobility, but they were not finished yet. Several straps were hanging down from the jacket and Carl secured them to the trousers, finishing off with two crotch straps that solidly linked the two items together. They gently pushed Clark onto a chair and laced combat boots on to his feet. They then grabbed his hands and slid fist mitts on to them which were then padlocked in place.

Finally, Greg pulled a thick leather hood over Clark’s head. Almost immediately sound was deadened and as Greg pulled the rear zip down, it tightened around Clarks head. Lacing at the back tightened it and it was finally secured with three straps that Greg padlocked shut. The final item was a heavy leather posture collar which he tightly locked around Clarks neck holding his head securely in place.

“How’s that feel, Clarkie?” As Clark opened his mouth to reply, Greg pushed a familiar cock gag into his mouth, locking it to the hood. Clark was now completely covered in thick restrictive leather, the only human thing showing being his eyes. That lasted only a few seconds as Greg placed a blindfold over Clarks hood and then secured it behind his head.

Greg and Carl took a step back and grinned at each other. The manly, muscled man they had met several weeks ago was now completely covered in leather, his well muscled form covered in the thick black material. It made a massive difference seeing the suit over Clarks form and both men knew Clark would be the centre of attention. All they had to do now was to secure him in place. Greg grabbed a ring on the front of Clark’s posture collar and led him to the central podium. Once there, he secured thick steel shackles around his ankles and locked them to a ring in the floor. He then took similar shackles and used them to secure Clarks hands in front of him. Clark was then ready for the final item needed to hold him in place.

While Carl unzipped the arse on Clarks suit, Greg screwed a metal pole in place between Clark’s legs. He fixed a dildo to the top of the pole and liberally rubbed lube over it, before ratchetting it upwards.

Clark had no idea what was going on until he felt something pressing at the lips of his arse. He could feel something cold against him and he tried to grunt a question into the gag as whatever it was started to push inside him. He tried to move, but his shackles held him in place and he couldn’t do anything to prevent the dildo pushing inside him. It seemed to go on for ages, until finally stopping. Clark was breathing with deep shuddering breaths into the gag as Greg secured the dildo fully inside him. Clark could now not move – to all intents and purposes he was now a leather covered mannequin just waiting for the event to start.

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Metal would like to thank the author, lthr_jock, for this story.




5 thoughts on “Busman’s Holiday – Part 14”

  1. wowwiowowow…cant wait to hear what happens next , i always take a deep breath before i read this. wish it was a film.

  2. Sam Coleridge called for “That willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith.” By this he meant that the reader will accept a work on its own terms, temporarily giving over to the author’s vision of the world long enough to appreciate it.

    I think that has happened to me when reading “Busman’s Holiday.”

    From a reasonably tame beginning, I felt that each episode possessed just enough credibility to somehow make me suspend disbelief. At times, this suspension seemed to ring so true as to have some actual experiences involved. There was just enough of this mix to bring me back, time and again and to start identifying with the guy who needs to have his identity protected, while at the same time getting drawn deeper and deeper into a new consciousness. Nice foil for the reader.

    This is a clever and engaging piece of writing. Thanks, LTHRJock!


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