By Steellock

When Matt got back to the barracks that night he found that many of the troop had beaten him in and were lounging around chatting and joking. They quizzed Matt on where he had been. but he just shrugged his shoulders and said that he had been out walking.

He went over to his bunk, took off his jacket and realised that he could hardly raise his arms; the feeling was like after a really heavy new workout regime! He also realised that he was still hard. His dick was wet with juice; Matt was surprised that there was no stain coming though his jeans. He had to be really careful or the ribbing from last week would start again. He swiftly looked around but relaxed when he saw that Wayne was not in the room.

Also the frustration at not being able to release his feelings built up overnight. Some of the guys had no problem in releasing the pressure, wanking off either in the barrack when the Sarge was not there, or in the showers. Matt had never felt comfortable with this kind of public display and always wore shorts or a jock strap even when wandering through to the latrines. He would have to make sure he released the built up feelings before leaving the store next week. Then he sat up – that had been a reflex thought. His body must have made the decision to go back. When Jim had asked the question earlier, Matt had suddenly felt unsure. Was this normal? Perhaps he was being stupid. He felt sore and ached. He thought of the previous night:

“Perhaps” he had muttered. Then, dragging his eyes off the scene in front of him, he had jogged out of the door. He always seemed to be leaving in a hurry!

As the next week progressed, the stiffness left as it always did after exercise. He felt good. Looking back he remembered the detail and felt ashamed. He had panicked, really lost control at the end. Surely the pain had not been that bad? Why had he shouted out? Had Jim really said that it was a good performance or had he been joking? Doubts crowded in. He had to go back and see.

On Wednesday he went to see the Sarge and booked the Saturday and Sunday night out, claiming that he was headed back home for the weekend. A letter had come and his mother was not well…

First thing Saturday morning he shoved a change of clothes into a small backpack. The squad mates were all out at breakfast, and he was alone. He opened the trunk from under his bed and pulled out a pair of boots. Matt had not been sure why he packed them originally, a pair of tall red DMs that had 14 pairs of lace holes, white laces were already threaded through the bottom sets. Pulling up the legs of the loose camouflage trousers he had slipped on earlier, he pulled them on, for the first time in years. He remembered wearing them as a youngster when he had tried to join one of the local gangs but had never felt right with the casual violence that group had used. He didn’t mind a fight and could hold his own, but that gang had taken things a lot further, seeming to delight in putting the opposing gang members in hospital. Matt had not gone back after they had been raided one Saturday, and he had just escaped being pulled in with the others.

He laced them up tight and pulled on a white Tee shirt and his denim jacket. He shouldered his pack and then shot out of the door. Following his earlier route he headed down to the docks and walked, his head spinning with conflict – desire for the attention, the excitement and the promise of the future against caution and a little fear. Then he stopped, pulled his shoulders back and made his mind up. He was going through with it. Jogging the rest of the way, his boots thumping on the road, he pushed at the door. It was locked! He checked his watch; he was early!

He saw a flash of movement through the spy-glass and heard the door locks rattle and it opened. Jim looked out and then opened the door wide. His thick arm shot out and he grabbed Matt by the front of his jacket. He yanked Matt through the door and slammed it shut. He towed Matt through the store and into the big back room then sat him down with a jerk onto the padded bench.

“Decision time,” he said. “No-one runs away from me like that.” Matt could see that Jim was annoyed.

Shaking Matt by the jacket, he went on: “If you want my time for training then you need to earn it. You need to start paying your way in the store.”

“What do you mean?” asked Matt.

“Think about the cellar demo three weeks ago. Are you ready to walk out in front of that crowd naked? You need to be used to being the focus of attention, used to people seeing you as an object, not a marine or a person.”

Matt realised Jim was right – the thought of walking out in front of any crowd naked but for some leather straps was alien to him. In front of the squad was even worse. He had a lot to learn and get used to it.

“I told the Sarge that I was out of town till Monday morning,” he said, “so yes I’m up for it. One year, every weekend. You get me ready, and I’ll work in the store.”

Then another thought struck him – “But I can’t, someone might recognise me,” he said, shaking his head from side to side. Jim grinned, “Not if they cant see your face,” he said. Matt thought back – no, the guys except Jess he had seen both times had either being wearing a hood or had their faces hidden. Perhaps that was not a coincidence.

“You haven’t got any tattoos or marks, have you?” said Jim. “Nothing to make you stand out? Lets get started now! Strip but leave the boots on, they look good!”

Releasing the front of Matt’s jacket, he headed back through into the store.

The voice, firm and commanding like his Sarge, had Matt pulling off his jacket straight away. He slipped his tee shirt over his head and then looked down at this camo pants – they should go over the boots, he thought, as he undid the wide webbing belt and yanked them down.

Jim’s head appeared round the door. “Get those shorts off and wriggle into these,” he said and lobbed a pair of leather shorts at Matt, who shot out a hand and caught them. They were heavy and had straps round the legs and zips down the front – in fact they were the same ones worn by the boy two weeks ago! He worked his boots through the legs and began to pull them up. They were tight, and he just got them up around his sturdy thighs. Then he saw the hole at the front, and there was a big flap of leather hanging down, zips up each side. His tackle obviously had to go through the hole and hang out at the front. Trouble is, it had leapt to attention as he was pulling the tight pants up his legs. He sat down and began to focus his mind and squeeze his dick, willing it to go down. After a couple of minutes pressing hard, he felt the pressure go and his dick drooped. He pushed his balls through first, squeezing them past the circle of leather one after the other, then stuffed his flaccid dick through. That done, he could pull them up the last bit and felt the tight leather form itself around his butt. Jim came back in and saw how far he had got. He pulled the straps tight around Matt’s thighs and one after the other buckled them up. He took a pair of small padlocks from his pocket and slipped them through locking posts and snapped them shut.

“That’s to keep busy hands out,” he said. “Lets get you in place and see how you handle standing for a while. There’s no one in yet apart from Jess, and he’s looking forward to it!”

Matt went through the door and saw Jess standing near his counter with a wide grin on his face. “Didn’t take you long to join the team! You’ll not run out of the door this afternoon,” he said and laughed.

Jim led him over to a wooden pillar, and Matt realised that it was where the boy had been standing two weeks ago. He was going to be set up the same way!

As they went by the rack of leather restraints, Jim pulled down a complex set of belts in wide, black leather. “Stand still,” he said and stood Matt near a mirrored wall at the back of the store. Matt could see him undo the buckle on a wide collar and then felt it placed around his neck. It tightened, but not too far, and then Jim threaded the tail through the buckle and strapped it closed. As before, he pulled a padlock from his pocket and snapped it shut. Matt could then feel the rest of the straps hanging down his back. Jim then grabbed his left arm and pulled it behind his back and pressed his wrist into a leather cuff. Not too bad, thought Matt, it was down by his waist. The other hand followed, and both were tightly strapped in.

Leading Matt over to the post, Jim felt round his back and pulled down a zip that opened Matt’s arse to the air. “This is to keep you still.” He pushed Matt back, and he felt a cold piece of steel go between his legs into the shorts. Jim came back around the front and reached down. He closed his big hand around Matt’s package and yanked it upwards, he then squeezed the end of the steel bar through the hole in front of the shorts. It had a round, thick loop of steel on the end. Jim pulled out a key from his pocket and undid a screw on one side. The front of the ring pivoted open. He began to massage Matt’s balls, pulling them down by ringing the sack with his thumb and forefinger and pulling downwards. This was new to Matt, and he began to squirm.

“You will get used to this,” Jim said. “Remember what you want, your hero had his balls through something like this, didn’t he?”

Matt thought back – yes indeed he remembered the guy’s balls held down by a steel ring ready for their treatment. He relaxed and began to enjoy the sensation as Jim stretched the ballsack then pushed it back against the back of the ring and swung the front shut. It was a tight fit, and Matt could feel the steady wrench downwards on his balls. Looking up, he realised that he was still facing the mirror and could see what was going on. Jim tightened the bolt and stepped back, then lifted the flap of leather that had been hanging down and pulled up the zips on each side. As the leather pouch tightened over Matt’s now stiffening dick, he roughly pushed it into place and carried on zipping all the way up. The tops of the zips had loops of leather at the ends. A belt was then slipped through the loops from both sides and Jim yanked, pulling it tight around Matt’s hard, muscular waist. He slipped both ends of the belt over a steel post at the front of the shorts, and out came another padlock.

Jess walked over carrying an old-fashioned leg iron. It was about 18 inches wide and with a loop on each end. He opened both ends on hinges and placed one around Matt’s right boot. That side swung shut and Jess then pulled Matt’s left leg away and fitted it into the other loop. That too swung shut and Jess tightened up a nut in the centre, clamping them together. He grinned at Matt again. “Told you that you were not running out today,” he said.

Matt felt a whole series of new feelings. He was standing, legs clamped about 18 inches apart by a steel bar around his tightly laced high boots, tight leather shorts cool on his skin. The steel bar passed between his legs and the thick ring pulled down hard on his balls. His dick was crushed upwards into the pouch on the front of the shorts. To cap it all, his hands were locked behind his back and he could feel the weight of his arms starting to pull on his neck.

He looked at himself in the mirror and felt his caged dick get even harder. He could see the way the position emphasised his physique. Shoulders back, his muscular chest was pushed out. His six pack rippled down into the black shorts. The way his legs were spread helped to make the muscles in his thighs and calves stand out. Then he noticed that his tits were hard and stood out. “Never felt that before,” he thought. A thought passed his mind. “My face!” he said, turning to Jim.

Jim walked over to the shelf that held a wide range of leather and rubber hoods. He turned to Mat and asked, “You ever worn one of these?”

Matt shook his head – how would he have done that, he thought? I had not even been here till two weeks ago!

“I’ll leave you some light then,” said Jim and lifted one down. The face of the hood was rigid leather and was studded with steel. Matt could see where the eyes would be by panels of leather with small holes, there was a rigid nose with a pair of grommets underneath that would let air through and a zip across below that where the mouth would be. It had laces down the back and also a thick strap that went from the top of the head down the back to a collar with three straps on each side that buckled shut.

“It’s called a Sci Fi Hood,” said Jim, “supposed to be scary! You’ll love it.”

He loosened the lacing and pulled it over Matt’s head, working it down till suddenly he could feel it slip into place over his face and he could see through panels of small holes in front of each eye. He felt the lacings begin to tighten, and the hood gripped his head more and more. As the laces were tightened Matt felt the sound level drop from outside but could suddenly hear his own breathing. Then his head was moved to and fro as the buckles on each side were closed, pulling the leather tight around his head, and finally he felt the last strap closed around his neck, pushing his head even higher as the collar fitted over the one he was already wearing.

“You OK?” he heard. It was muffled but clear. Looking in the mirror through the pin hole eye covers, he saw Jim’s head close to his. He pushed his jaw down and said, “Yes, I can breathe fine and talk.”

“Hey, not for long!” answered Jim and pulled the zip across his mouth. As it closed, the slight gap Matt felt his jaw pulled up and his mouth closed. Then he saw in the mirror another padlock! This one went through the end of the zip over his mouth and through a steel loop on the side of the hood.

“Don’t want just anyone talking with you, do we?” said Jim and laughed. “Given enough encouragement you might give too much away. Don’t worry, you will be getting good training today as well as just standing around.”

Matt wondered what he meant then looked to one side and saw the display racks around him. They were full of various clamps and chains. Also what looked like cloths pegs but in black. He could not really see what they were for.

He watched Jim walk around him, obviously enjoying the view. Then he felt a wrench and his hands were pulled up his back! “Fuck, not his shoulders again!” Higher and higher they went until he could feel his shoulder blades with his left fingers. “Ahhh,” he said, which came out more like ‘MMmmmm!”

“Right,” said Jim. “Your job today is to keep the customers happy for the day. They will want to try a few things out before they buy. Some of them just like to try the stock out and see how much they can make you squirm. Often the stronger your reaction, the more chance they will buy it! You get two kinds of pain today, first your arms like last week. You will find the stress will build nicely. It’s not as intense as last time, but you will be here much longer and you don’t get to choose when it stops. However, the customers will take your mind off it. Distraction is a key thing to learn. With that you can go much closer to the edge. We are going to use that a lot.”

“Jess will keep a general eye out. If you are in real trouble, put your toes together! He will ignore you waving your head around, as you will do a lot of that. Doors open in five minutes.”

Matt was stumped. What had he done now! He remembered the warm-up sessions he had seen the boy take last week. He had not seen the rest of the day as he lay on the table in his hogtie!

He explored what he could move and how much. He lifted one foot. It came up about two inches before the ankle bar started to twist and dig into his leg through his boots. He shuffled his feet around to get his toes together; yes he could do that. Looking in the mirror, he saw Jess looking at him and quickly moved them back straight. Jess nodded.

With his balls clamped to the post, there was no way could he move forward or backwards. He could bend over, but that made his arms pull even more. That was it!

It was midday. Last week he had left as the sun set and the store was starting to fill. How long was he going to be here?

 

To be continued …