By Jamie
A good friend Gary and I made a pilgrimage to New York City back in December of 1993. I was showing him the sights on Christopher St and we ended up at The Leather Man. On prominent display was a heavy steel dog cage in the middle of the store. I was showing this cage to Gary when I heard a voice behind me, “Do you like that?”
“Oh yes, it is very impressive.” I replied.
In an authoritative voice I was commanded, “Get in!”
I did.
By lthr_jock
Jim woke up the next day in his new bed. He lay there, arms crossed behind his head and wondered how he had got into the situation he found himself in last night. He had no idea how long he had been suspended in the frame – but by the time he had been released, he was dripping with sweat, his muscles were cramping and his cock was desperate for release. He could vaguely remember hands touching his muscles, fondling his crotch, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember what happened next or how he got home.
His muscles still ached from his bondage yesterday, so he levered himself out of bed and took a long, hot shower to try and get the kinks out. Sitting down to some breakfast, he crunched his way through a bowl of cereal while typing out his first days report for the Inspector. He discretely omitted details about the events in Inferno, instead mentioning that he had made contact with the club owner. Sending the email, he sat back to plan his day.
By lthr_jock
Jim stood in front of the apartment block in Balham and checked for the third time that he had the address right. He had heard stories about the accommodation provided for undercover work — rat-infested havens for disease and cockroaches, but this was something else entirely. His flat seemed to be the penthouse of a newly developed block called Ascension Point. He entered the plush lobby and using the key Turner had provided him, called the lift. As he looked around, he could see state of the art security cameras and among the tasteful decor were the logos of the alarm and security firms.
By the time the smooth, silent lift had reached the penthouse flat, he had started to relax. For some reason, he’d fallen on his feet with this assignment. The flat itself was luxurious — the main room was as large as his whole flat and decorated very tastefully. Off the main room, he soon found bedroom, small personal gym, bathroom, kitchen and a steam room. In each the furnishings were obviously high quality and the walls were adorned with tasteful paintings. Alongside the bedroom he found a final corridor with a locked door. As Jim was sorting through the keys, he heard a chime from the front door and went to see what it was. Further exploration could be left for later.
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.
By lthr_jock
Paul was running. Running hard and fast. He tried to remember how long he’d been running, but all he could remember was the fun. From time to time a tube was slipped inside his mouth and he drank, a familiar taste filling his mouth. But apart from that there was just the running. So he ran.
Jay looked up as PJ crossed to him. The gym was empty except for the naked figure of Paul running on a treadmill. The monitors were all flashing images at him at a frightening speed.
“How’s he doing?”
“Just broken three hours.”
“Any signs of fatigue?”
“No, the process seems to have worked well with him. I think we can go to the final phase.”
By lthr_jock
Despite running, Paul still arrived at work late. Chris and Pete were already behind the bar, dressed exactly as he was. Paul moved to take his usual spot beside them, but Carl intercepted him.
“A bit late, weren’t you, Paul?”
“Yes, sorry about that – won’t happen again.”
“No, I know it won’t – you certainly won’t make that kind of mistake again. Follow me.”
With that Carl moved off into the club, and Paul followed behind him. As he did, so he waved at Chris and Pete. To his surprise, he got no response, the two of them staring straight ahead, a glassy expression in their eyes. He stopped to check if they were OK, but a sharp order from Carl made him leave them behind as he ran to catch up.
Carl had stopped in one of the more secluded areas of the club, close to the cage that Paul had spent some time in. He stood beside some thick chains that were hanging from the ceiling and had in his hands two 3-foot long steel bars that had shackles hanging from them.
“Ok, Paul, take off your jacket and kneel down here with your hands behind your back.”
By slavebladeboi
Next, I relaxed a bit. I couldn’t move apart from wriggling my fingers and blinking but I managed to relax, somehow. I was tied face down on the black leather covered bench. Upper arms, wrists, thighs and ankles were strapped tightly to the four legs whilst my lower back and neck were strapped to either end of the flat surface.
My master was standing behind me beginning to relax as well. His still erect cock deep inside me was very slowly starting to reduce in size. Seconds before he had let out a loud roar as he pumped his hot spunk so far into me I thought I’d almost be able to taste it. But now he gently ran his fingers along the welts he had made across me before strapping me down and thrusting into me with such a passion it was all those thick leather straps could do to keep me in position.
By lthr_jock
“1683, wake up.”
Paul’s eyes snapped open, and immediately he could see his muscular form still in its thick, skin-tight red rubber in the mirror placed in front of him. He was boiling hot, the sweat pooling in the rubber suit and making him uncomfortable, his muscles aching from the position he had been strapped into. Drool was running freely around the ball gag, so he reckoned he’d been secured like this for some time. From what he could see, he had been strapped on all fours onto some kind of device. His stomach lay on something solid, with his mitted hands secured in front of him to the base of the device. His legs (ankles still strapped to his thighs) were similarly secured, but his knees were held apart by the device leaving his arse open and exposed.
His eyes bulged as he swore and struggled, his mountainous muscles heaving against the black leather restraints. Wrenching against the straps, he could hear them creaking and groaning, until a rubbered form behind him stepped forward and secured a wide leather belt around his waist, securing Paul tightly to the device. Now he couldn’t get enough leverage to affect anything other than a helpless writhing motion. He glared up at the figure in black rubber as he rubbed his hands all over Paul’s quivering flanks.
“Time for your last lesson here, boi.”