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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 14

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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.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 13

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By lthr_jock

For the second time in 24 hours, Clark found himself being led out of the hotel room on a chain leash, with Greg at the other end. This time, though, his body was on display as his muscles bulged around the leather slave harness. He nearly tripped as Greg yanked on the chain, but remembered how to walk in the boots and hurried down the corridor after him. The unfamiliar feel of the rail plug in his arse made him feel as if he needed to shit and as he walked he could feel the rubber tail lashing to and fro behind him. The thought of what he must look like made him blush and he was grateful for the dog hood that was covering his features.

Greg reached the lift and pressed the button calling for it. While they waited, he pushed Clark back against a wall and pressed against him, his black uniform leathers cold against Clark’s naked flesh.

“So, Clarkie, here’s the deal. You are displaying some of my goods and so you will do whatever I tell you to. Disobey and you will be punished, obey and maybe I can convince Vickers to reduce your debt. Understand?”

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 12

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By lthr_jock

Without thinking, Clark stood up which made Greg curse angrily and use his crop on Clark’s leathered arse. Clark reflexively knelt down again and flushed bright red as Vickers laughed. Greg glared down at him and paused before looking back up at Vickers.

“Hold on, did you just call him Samuel?”

Vickers grinned an evil little smile and nodded. Greg let out a roar of laughter which made several people close by look up from their own conversations.

“You mean to tell me that the man I have been pestering you about for 2 months is right here kneeling at my feet.”

Vickers joined in the laugher. “Yes – and from the look of it Samuel has had quite the evening.”

Greg chuckled and stroked Clarks hair, ignoring the increasingly urgent grunts that were coming from the restrained man.

“Damn. I’ve wanted to get him into some of my gear for ages. See – I was right – it suits him.”

“I never doubted it would.”

“MPPPHHH!”

Greg didn’t look down, just rapped the tip of his crop against the faceplate of Clark’s muzzle. “Quiet, boi, your betters are talking.”

Clark ignored this and continued to grunt into the gag. Greg frowned at him and with one hand behind Clarks head, used the other one to pinch his nose shut. Clark then realised how secure he was trussed up as he struggled vainly within the straitjacket, his booted feet slipping on the floor. He could get some air in past the gag in his mouth, but his struggles increased his need for air and Gregs control over his nose meant that he couldn’t get it. He struggled harder and harder until Greg released his grip. He gasped air in through his nose, coughing and spluttering around the drool in his mouth. Greg knelt down so that he could hear him whisper.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 11

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By lthr_jock

Clark reacted with shock as they headed towards the door – surely Greg didn’t mean to parade him in public like this. He held back and the leash tightened. Without looking around, Greg yanked on it and Clark felt his upper half jerk forward. He tried to brace himself but something made him lose his balance and he staggered forward. Greg turned as Carl burst out laughing. “Greg, you were right. Those boots work a treat.”

Clark looked down with confusion – the boots looked just like the heavy boots he had seen skinheads wearing in the street. But for some reason they felt slippery and unstable under his feet and he had to concentrate to keep his balance on them. Carl picked up another pair of the boots and turned them around so Clark could see the soles. Instead of a normal heel, they had a 2” heel on them and instead of a thick rubber tread they were smooth. “You see, the heel puts your balance off and the slippery sole makes it easy to pull you further off balance. We call them the Slave-maker.” Greg frowned and Carl continued “Ok, the name is a work in progress, but lucky you, you get to road test them for us.”

Greg yanked on the leash again and Clark stepped carefully towards the door. He was having to concentrate on where he was stepping and was taking steps so small that the boot shackles were almost irrelevant. Before he realised it, they were at the lifts. Greg stood there, tapping his crop against his boot with impatience. He turned to face Clark with a wicked grin on his face “You know what, let’s take the stairs.” Clark tried to complain but the gag filled his mouth stopping him and he could do little except hobble along behind Greg as the leather clad man tugged him towards the stairs.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 10

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By lthr_jock

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.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 09

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By lthr_jock

As Clark walked out of the house, Vickers marvelled at the sight of the prison guard wearing head to toe rubber. He knew that the additives he had put in the man’s drink would increase his arousal, but he never anticipated that they would make him so relaxed and open-minded. Talking to Clark it was clearly the same man, just a man with his inhibitions lowered. Vickers watched Clark drive away, then was back onto his computer to review the film he now had of Clark putting on the rubber. He pulled out his cock and stroked it at the sight of the tall, muscled man covering up with the gleaming black rubber. He grinned with pleasure and added the film to his private collection of films of Clark that he had taken since Clark had first come over to collect the Scavenger’s Daughter. Vickers had been very careful with those files – they had been shared with a very few select friends, each time with dire warnings not to share them with anyone else.

 

***

 

Clark drove home, enjoying the way the rubber moved and stretched with every movement of his body. He was also aware of the sounds that it made as he moved and the strong smell of the rubber – a smell which got stronger as his body heated the rubber up. It was a warm day and although the sun was low on the horizon, it was still enough to make him sweat. He could feel the trickles of it down his body under the rubber and even that served to arouse him. He reached down with his left hand and stroked the bulge of his cock, which was still rock hard under the rubber. Clark loved the feel of the pressure through the rubber without the direct contact and he could feel pre-cum leaking out of his cock.

Clark pulled up short – his reverie had almost made him drive through a red light. He carried on stroking his cock with one hand until a shout disturbed him. He looked to the right and saw the familiar shape of a pickup truck. Leaning out of the window was the same guy that had seen him driving around in slave chains a few weeks before.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 08

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By lthr_jock

Clark stared straight ahead at the clock – not that he had much choice. The collar of the helmet was rigidly locked in place, and the helmet was so tight around his head that he couldn’t move inside it. Vickers had left the room in darkness except for the spotlight on the box and a smaller one illuminating a clock face opposite Clark. Apart from closing his eyes, Clark had no choice but to watch the clock slowly counting down the minutes.

The hands of the clock seemed to move like someone wading through tar. By the time Clark had been in there for 15 minutes, it felt like far longer. Already he knew he was in trouble. With his arms locked behind him, his muscles were cramping painfully. His heavy biceps and shoulders worked against him and made the bondage more secure. He tried to move, but he could do little but twitch inside the box. The chains restraining his chest and waist were heavy and solid, and he couldn’t move them an inch. His legs were locked securely in place, and their positioning meant that his back and arse were forced further into the rubber of the chair. He couldn’t even wiggle his arse, as the rubber tube that had been pushed up inside him was also solidly in place.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 07

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By lthr_jock

Clark usually woke slowly, but on this occasion he was suddenly jerked awake as his body clenched in pain. He sat up suddenly, his legs, back and chest feeling like he had completed a massive workout on the previous day. This was combined with his back torso and legs being covered with a decent level of sunburn which gave him a whole different kind of pain. Clark got up, and went into the bathroom to look at himself. He looked a mess – his whole body a bright shade of red with white patches marking where the yoke had been locked onto him. Every movement made his muscles ache and he marvelled he hadn’t torn something.

The thick steel collar stood out against his reddened skin and Clark was amazed he had worn it all night. As he thought about the day before, he grinned to himself and admitted the whole thing had been arousing. A pain in his cock growing from dull to sharp reminded him that he was still wearing the cock cuff and that his growing excitement was being restricted. Clark headed back into the bedroom, found the key to the cuff and took it off. Sprawled back on his bed, it only took a few strokes to get his cock to full height and as he went back over the events of the day before, it didn’t take long before Clark climaxed, thick ropes of creamy cum spurting over his crotch and waist.

Clark lay there for a few seconds, unaware that this had all been filmed via webcam. He hadn’t cum that hard for a long time. He headed back into the bathroom and had a long shower, only realising them that he hadn’t removed the collar. “Damn, this thing seems to suit me.” He chuckled to himself and then headed back into the bathroom.

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