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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 05

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By lthr_jock

Clark drove home, his persistently hard cock a distraction as he drove. As he drove, his free hand wandered down to caress his cock and he could feel it leaking, and the need to cum became more and more urgent. He pulled over into a handy layby and nipped out of the car into the bushes. Pulling his cock out, he only had to jerk it 3 or 4 times before exploding all over the leaves of the bush. Blushing furiously, he tucked his cock away and returned to his car for the drive home.

Once back, he quickly grabbed a shower and changed into some sweats, then logged onto his computer. The first thing he did was send Vickers a message. “Hey, great bit of kit again. Thanks. Hope to see those pics soon.”   He then started to browse some of the sites he had found previously and soon found himself stroking his cock again.

After a couple of days, Vickers sent him an email. “Pics have been posted on my site. I have a ton more here, but too large to send by email.” He had added a URL and Clark clicked on it. Vickers’ site was all to sell his bespoke metal bondage gear. He checked around it, and under the heading “Yoke” he found a set of pictures in an album entitled “Samuel.” Vickers had photo-shopped a generic looking head onto Clarks shoulders and then blurred it slightly. He had also photo-shopped several backgrounds in. The photos looked amazing, and Clark tried to make copies but the site wouldn’t let him. He snarled in frustration and fired an email off to Vickers about it.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 04

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By lthr_jock

Vickers linked up his camera to a long data cable and took a couple of test shots. Then he slipped on his Bluetooth headset so he could talk to the restrained prison warder.

“OK, Mr Clark, here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll tell you to strike a pose, you move into it and I’ll take some snaps? OK?” Clark grunted and nodded. Vickers chatted happily away as he started to snap photographs, enjoying the sights of this muscled guy hooded and in inescapable metal bondage. He loved the way Clark kept flexing his hands as though he could somehow break free. He could see Clark was breathing easily as his chest was rising and falling, and the sweat beading on his chest showed that he was heating up. Vickers grinned – one of the reasons for using the heavy hood was that he knew it would help Clark heat up faster.

By now he had snapped Clark from all angles. “You know, Mr Clark, it occurs to me that’s a terribly formal name for someone in a slave yoke. I really need to call you something else. Hmm how about your first name? No – too easy to identify you. Wait I know – your middle name is perfect – Samuel is a good slave name – what do you think?” Clark tried to reply but the tight leather strapped and locked around his head prevented him do anything but grunt.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 03

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By lthr_jock

Several weeks passed. Clark found himself surfing more and more and built up quite a collection of photographs of men in severe steel bondage. At night, he often lay in bed, thinking of how it had felt to be helpless in restraint – and of Vickers and his threat (promise?) of a longer test next time. He still approached his work in the same way, though several times he found himself ruminatively running his hands over the sets of prisoner transport chains and wishing they were heavier. On one of these occasions he caught Morrison watching him, and vented his frustration by slamming his baton across the back of Morrison’s knees several times as he escorted him back to his cell.

He had almost given up on Vickers, when he received an email from Arcturus35. It was short, with an attachment. “Interested?” The attachment was a picture of a metal yoke laid out on what Clark recognised as Vickers’ carpet. Clark had seen yokes before, but they did not interest him. The originals were basically a carved wooden bar that went across the back of someone’s neck. Chains or leather straps then secured their neck and hands to the yoke, with the hands stretched out at least 1 foot from the neck. The idea was to keep the person helpless, while still able to move around – and in some cases be used to drag carts or ploughs. Modern versions all seemed to be made of very thin steel. To Clark, they looked more cosmetic than anything else and not for a collector like himself.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 02

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By lthr_jock

Clark looked up in shock as Vickers looked down at him grinning. “What — what the fuck?” He tried to pull free of the scavenger’s daughter, but it was solid and secure and even his impressive muscles were unable to make any headway against them.

Vickers laughed. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He headed out of the room and Clark heard the door lock behind him. Clark had no idea what Vickers had planned, so he continued to struggle despite his so-far futile efforts. He shook himself violently from side to side, but all he succeeded in doing was tipping himself over and he sprawled helplessly across the floor. He started to yell and bellow for assistance.

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Story

Busman’s Holiday – Part 01

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By lthr_jock

Clark walked down the cell block, glaring at the inmates who were still out of the cells his presence usually enough to send then scurrying out of his way. He could best be described as a bull of a man – 6-foot-4, barrel chested and with thick arms and legs from repeated workouts. Although he was in his 40s he was still in remarkably good condition with hardly any fat on his body. He kept his hair neatly trimmed though not shaved like some of his colleagues did. The inmates new better than to cross him – he knew where all of the security cameras were and he was able to inflict pain swiftly and violently when he decided to.

Clark was definitely an old school prison guard. He didn’t believe in all the modern crap about rehabilitation – as far as Clark was concerned, prison should be true punishment. If it was up to him, inmates would be in distinctive prison garb, doing hard labour and be in shackles all the time. His mind drifted to the collection of iron restraints he had in his cellar at home – if only he was allowed to use those on the inmates, he would have a much easier time!

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Story

Undercover – Chapter 7

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By lthr_jock

When Jim arrived at Inferno, he used his key to let himself in and headed straight to the bar area. As part of his strategy of getting into Steve’s inner circle, Jim had let himself be convinced to work behind the bar a couple of nights a week. So far he hadn’t found out anything, but there was still time. As he arrived he nodded to the other two bar staff, who were dressed like himself and both also heavily muscled, making their Fred Perry shirts strain over their barrel chests. As he started to sort his section of the bar out, he chatted with the two others.

As they passed to and fro behind his position, their bodies rubbed against him and he could feel his cock swelling down the leg of his bleachers and he grinned. One guy stood behind Jim and pressed up close so he could feel the man’s bulge press hard against the arse-zip in Jim’s bleachers. Instead of moving away, he chuckled and pushed back. The man laughed and went back to his own section of the bar. Jim turned to call to him and realised he didn’t know the guys name – actually he didn’t know the name of any of the staff here. That was weird. Brow furrowed, he tried to remember. Try as he might he couldn’t think of a single name. Meditatively he took a long gulp of his orange juice and almost immediately realised that it didn’t matter and went back to his work.

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Story

Undercover – Chapter 6

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By lthr_jock

As the police patrol car drove slowly past the end of the alley, the police officer in the passenger seat swept his torch down the darkened alley revealing nothing but half-empty rubbish bins and discarded McDonalds boxes blowing around in the wind and rain. The patrol car moved on and the alley remained still, the only sound being the falling rain, the distant sound of a window banging in the wind and the low rattle of the rubbish being blown away from the street.

After a few minutes, there was movement as four figures stood up from their hiding places — three from behind bins, the fourth from a darkened doorway. Without speaking, the four padded forward to the entrance of the alley and looked cautiously out into the road. After checking in each direction, the lead figure made a series of gestures with his hand and all four men ran into the lit street, swiftly moving along the pavement until they reached the door of a jewellery shop. Two took crouching positions either side of the door where they had a clear view of the street. The other two unstrapped packs from their back, one taking out a screwdriver and removing the cover of the alarm box by the door, the other pulling out a laptop and booting it up.

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Story

Undercover – Chapter 5

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By lthr_jock

Jim kept his head down and moved along the road as fast as possible, eyes fixed on the pavement, only glancing up to try to see a street sign and to avoid walking into people. Even so, he attracted attention very quickly as people noticed the collar and wristbands standing out starkly against his skin. Worse, his cock was being kept solid down his right leg by the cock-ring was a noticeable bulge in the bleachers and he heard several shocked comments.

After what seemed like an age, he got to the end of the road to where he could see a street-sign. Ignoring the road name, he looked quickly at the post-code on the sign — NE9 — bloody hell, he was miles from home. He shoved his hands into his pockets and found nothing inside. Without money he couldn’t even get a tube, bus or taxi. Jim shivered at the predicament he was in, chose a roughly south westerly direction and kept walking.

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