Busman’s Holiday – Part 16

By lthr_jock

Clark had driven back from work with a raging hard-on, his thought constantly returning to the humiliation of the scene in the Governor’s Office – and just how aroused it had made him. Just thinking about it made his cock rise, and he roughly kneaded it with one hand as he drove. He kept glancing at the heavy bag on his passenger seat and he couldn’t wait to get home to put it on again. As he drove in he saw Andy opposite and waved a greeting to him. Andy headed over to chat, but Clark put his phone to his ear and mimed that he would talk to Andy later. With a sigh of relief, Clark saw Andy walk back to his garden.

Once inside, Clark went straight to his computer, powered it up and downloaded the software to control the restraints. He idly flicked through the menu system and realised that it was fairly straightforward. Once it was downloaded he took it through the setup process and it registered his restraints on the system.

Clark had thought long and hard about what to wear. He had decided that it was time to try out the rubber Dainese suit he had bought weeks before and he grabbed the suit and headed into the bathroom. He grabbed a bottle of lube and generously lubed the inside of the suit and then rubbed some over himself, making his hair matted against his muscles.

He shivered as he pushed his legs into the suit, which pulled up remarkably easily. He was soon covered in jet black rubber from the waist down and his cock was already making an impressive bulge in the rubber. He pulled the suit up over his heavy torso and then struggled for the first time as he tried to get his arms inside the rubber. After a lot of swearing and sweating he managed it and zipped the suit up. Clark looked at himself in the mirror – a muscled body covered in gleaming black rubber except for the stylised Dainese logo on his chest. The rubber left nothing to the imagination and outlined every muscle.

He headed back into the bedroom and started to put the restraints on. He had a moment of concern, but his arousal was in charge of his brain by this time, so he keyed in 30 minutes. The muzzle, collar and belt tightened around him and he felt the mechanisms within the restraints as they locked.

Clark lay back on the bed – a difficult process as the restraints wouldn’t allow him to lie flat. He ended up lying with his torso propped up on his pillows. His cock was swollen in the rubber and he reached down to stroke it. The chalet cuff made this difficult but that just seemed to make Clark harder and it wasn’t long before he was grunting into the gag as he came inside the rubber suit.

Clark lay back on the bed, his head filled with the guilt that follows cumming. It had been a long day and before he could do anything else, he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke up, he could see that the sun had gone down – and he was still restrained. Something had gone wrong. Clark wriggled to the edge of the bed and shuffled over to his PC. He clumsily opened up his phone to see that the countdown on the restraints read 175. 175? How the hell was that possible? As he looked it counted down to 174. Clark realised that he must have pressed an extra zero when he was putting the time in and he groaned – he had nearly 3 hours to go. His muscles were already cramped from being kept in the same position for so long and he needed to get out. Clark tried to alter the time on the phone, but the software wouldn’t allow it.

He fumed to himself – what the hell was he going to do? He had an idea and sat down at the computer. Opening up Skype, he dialled Vickers. At the other end, Vickers grinned as the call came in. He sat down, composed himself and turned his camera on. As the screen opened up, he was delighted to see the restrained and rubbered Clark in front of him.

“Hey Mr Clark. Oh, I see Samuel has called instead. You enjoying yourself?”

A series of muffled grunts were all he could hear from Clark as the muzzle successfully stopped him speaking. Clark reached for the keyboard, but the restraints wouldn’t let him reach it when seated, so he had to stand and lean over towards the PC, giving Vickers a great close-up of the muzzle.

“I put the wrong time in. How to you change the timer?”

“The wrong time?” Vickers made a big deal of looking concerned. “You can’t change it with your access level. How much longer have you got to go?”

“170 minutes”

“Nearly three hours? Well that doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I already been here for 2 hours.”

“Oh. Oh I see. Well I can head across if you like. My phone has a higher access level so I should be able to free you. I won’t be able to get there for a couple of hours though.”

Vickers had to choke down a laugh as he typed the last. The sight of the red-faced and restrained Clark was turning him on hugely. The fact that the big man was clearly desperate for release was an added bonus.

“Cant you get here earlier?”

“I’m sorry, Samuel, but I have an appointment.”

“Break it.”

“Break an appointment? Well I could – but it will cost you.” Vickers grinned evilly at the screen. “And I charge for visits anyway.”

“I don’t care I’ll pay.”

“Fine. I’ll cancel the call and get there as soon as I can. How do I get into your house?”

“Spare key is in fake rock in garden.”

Vickers nodded, despite knowing exactly where it was. “I’ll get there soon as I can. Bye!” He terminated Skype, but continued watching Clark through the webcam. He chuckled as the big man clumsily stood and shuffled back towards the bed. He then watched with surprise as Clark stopped, picked up his phone and stood in front of his mirror. He took a couple of photos of himself and then sat on the bed, clearly sending the photos to someone. Vickers waited for his phone to ring – but nothing happened. Who was Clark sending them to?

Vickers took his time leaving the house and drove slowly across to Clarks house. He found the spare key and used it to get inside.

“Mr Clark? You still here?”

He laughed as all he could hear from upstairs was a muffled grunting. He headed upstairs and into the bedroom, where Clark had just managed to stand up. He couldn’t tell what Clark was saying, but judging by the glare he was getting it wasn’t polite.

“Hey there! Wow nice suit Samuel – you’ll have to tell me how you came to be wearing that.” Clark just glared at him. “Right, let’s get that gear off you. Where’s your phone?” Clark pointed as best he could to the bed. Vickers picked his phone up and got Clark to input the PIN code. “Ok, I just need to sync my phone with yours and we’ll get you sorted.”

Actually Vickers didn’t need to do that at all – he could release Clark at any time and in fact could have done so remotely. He just wanted to make it clear to the man how much control he had over him. He also wanted to see who Clark had sent those photos to.

He stepped away from Clark and thumbed through his messages. He quickly found the message, which said, “Looks like I got myself in trouble” and had the 2 photos attached. Vickers looked at the recipient – it was Greg. He coloured with anger and turned away in case Clark noticed. Greg had responded “Wow, Clarkie, have to show me that kit sometime. See you Friday?”

Vickers was livid. He had done so much for Clark and this was how he was repaid. Now Clark would be made to pay – and the payment would be a serious one. He keyed in the release code on his phone and saw Clark relax as the restraints slacked. The big man slipped his hands out of the chalet cuffs and then removed his muzzle. “Thanks, Vickers, I couldn’t have lasted the whole time.”

“It’s fine. I’ll contact you about payment.”

“Wait – you want a beer?”

“No.” Vickers stormed out of the house and drove home like a maniac contemplating what the payment would entail. Halfway back he received a text message and he thumbed it open to see who it was from. The display name was Cellblock and he grinned. He knew exactly how Clark could start to pay off his debt. When he got home, he started downloading images of Clark onto a thumb drive. He included all the personal videos and images he had taken. Clark was going to pay.




One week later, Vickers arranged to meet Clark at a local bar. As Clark walked in, Vickers took a long look. Clark’s workout routines were doing him a massive amount of good and he looked huge. He was wearing a pair of tight denims, cowboy boots and a white wife-beater short under a glossy leather jacket. Vickers recognised the jacket as one of Gary and Carl’s and wondered what Clark had paid for it.

Clark waved at Vickers and strode over to sit beside him. He signalled the barmaid for a beer and turned to Vickers. “What’s up? Isn’t this place a little vanilla for you?” He chuckled and smiled to the barmaid as his beer arrived.

Vickers turned to him with a thin-lipped smile. “This isn’t about fun, this is about business.” He slid a package covered in brown paper across the table to Clark. “You currently owe me a lot of money Mr Clark and it’s time you paid off some of your debt.”

“With this?” Clark picked up the package. It felt and looked like a book. “You want me to read a book?”

“No, Mr Clark, I want you to deliver a book.”

“Deliver? Where to?”

“I think you can guess that, Mr Clark, once I tell you the name of the person you have to deliver to.” Vickers paused. “Morrison.”

Clark blanched. “You want me to smuggle something into the prison? You are out of your fucking mind, Vickers.” As his voice rose, Vickers shushed him and put his hand on Clark’s arm. “Let me make something absolutely clear, Mr Clark. You currently owe me in excess of £20,000. You have taken part in several demonstrations of bondage kit and fetish gear, and I have the photographs to prove it. The item you are delivering contains no weapons or illegal drugs and will not assist Morrison in any kind of escape.”

Vickers paused, letting Clark consider.

“Doing this will get rid of half of your debt. It is a simple task.”

Clark gulped down his beer, his mind working furiously. He knew that Vickers had him over a barrel. “You promise me that Morrison can’t use this to hurt any of the prisoner?” Vickers nodded. “And it won’t help him escape?” Vickers nodded again. “I have no interest in seeing Morrison on the streets either, Mr Clark. Now do we have a deal?”

Clark nodded. Vickers smiled. “Good. Now here’s the arrangement.”




Three days later, Morrison nonchalantly walked down to the shower room. It was quiet as it was near the end of the day and he headed along to an area that wasn’t covered by cameras. Another prisoner walked in but turned around again rapidly as Morrison scowled at them. He looked up as he heard booted feet approaching and then cursed under his breath as Clark walked around the corner.

He immediately pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, and went to leave. He knew damn well his contact wouldn’t speak to him while Clark was in the area. To his surprise, Clark stood in front of him and blocked his exit with a hand against his chest.

“Aww, come on Clark, I ain’t doing nothing wrong.” As he spoke he looked at the guard. In different circumstances, Morrison would enjoy scrapping with Clark, as the two men were virtually the same size. “I need to get back to me cell for lockdown.”

Clark looked embarrassed for some reason, and without speaking he pulled a package out from behind his back and thrust it at Morrison. “What? Mr Clark, that’s not mine.”

“Just take it, Morrison.” Clark spun and walked away. Morrison stood there for a moment with his mouth gaping – Clark was his contact? How the hell had Vickers managed that?

Morrison slipped the package into the small of his back and made sure his shirt covered it. He headed back to his cell as fast as possible and hid the package. He could hardly wait until he had some time to check the contents.

Some hours later, Morrison removed the book from the packaging. “Think Yourself Fit,” he read. “Yeah, coz that’ll work.” Ignoring the content of the book, he teased away at the spine of the book until he opened one end, revealing a cavity inside it. Turning it upside down, he poured out the steroid pills he had been expecting. What he didn’t expect was the thumb-drive that slapped into the palm of his hand. “Vickers, what the fuck is this?”




It wasn’t until the next afternoon that Morrison managed to get time on the computers. They were strictly monitored and restricted as to what could be done on them – but Vickers had provided Morrison with several workarounds months ago which allowed him to email and surf pretty much as he pleased. He made sure no one was watching and then put in the thumb drive.

As he started to go through the pictures on the thumb drive he smiled. He loved this kind of porn and he surreptitiously reached down to stroke his cock. He loved the look of “Samuel,” but something about him tickled at the back of Morrison’s brain, something about him was familiar.

As he looked at the pictures of Samuel pulling the plough it struck him that Samuel looked remarkably like him. If he was more heavily built, and didn’t have all that body hair he would look almost the same. As he saw Samuel’s physique develop, it occurred to him that they were even more similar.

As a result, by the time he saw the first of the video files a part of him already knew what he would see. Somehow he had realised that Officer Clark was Samuel – and now, in front of him, was the evidence of that. An evil smile curled across his face as he looked at the pictures of the warden he hated.

He paused his surfing to send a couple of emails. One was to a friend and contained a copy of everything on the thumb drive. The second was to Vickers and simply read “Got the files. Good work. Get him to have a full body shave.”



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


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