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.

Beside his front door he found a video-entry phone and he activated it to see a man standing on the doorstep.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Sir. I have a delivery for…” the man scrutinised his clipboard “..Mr Davies?”

“That’s right, come on up.” After a few seconds fumbling Jim worked out which button activated the outside door. He then realised that the courier would need the key for the lift, but as he opened his door, he saw from the indicator that the lift was already heading down to the ground floor. Clearly the courier had been here before and had his own key.

After a few minutes, the lift returned and the doors opened to reveal the courier surrounded by boxes and bags. Jim moved to help him and together they moved everything through into the main room.

“I’ll just go and get the rest, Sir.”

“There’s more?”

“Oh yes, Sir. Another full load at least.”

Jim was stunned. Kyle must have added more than “a few” items to the list. Jim wondered again why this job had received such a large budget.

The courier returned with another full load and then insisted on unpacking everything and putting it away in the bedroom. Clearly the man knew his way around the apartment and Jim wondered whether he was a police employee of some kind. He couldn’t think of any subtle way to ask and so pottered around in the kitchen while the guy worked on. He popped out to see if they guy wanted a coffee, just in time to see him open the front door to leave. The courier smiled and waved, “See you soon, Mr. Davies,” and then Jim found himself alone in the apartment.

He spent the next couple of hours familiarising himself with the apartment, including the spa bath, the kitchen equipment and the 42″ flat screen TV. As the sky faded outside, he thought he’d better get ready to start his job properly and so he decided to get ready to head out to Inferno.

He headed into the walk-in wardrobe to find the clothing that Kyle had selected and stopped in surprise. The wardrobe was full, and one side of it was devoted to clothing made out of leather, lycra or rubber interspersed with what looked like uniforms. Below the hanging clothing were several sets of boots in various shapes and size. Kyle hadn’t been joking. He really didn’t want Jim going out in the same clothes twice!

A little taken aback, Jim sorted through the clothes until he found the ones he’d tried on earlier and pulled them on. Grabbing a long leather duster to go over the top, he put his wallet and keys in his pocket and headed out. Inferno was less than a mile away, so Jim decided to walk.

Inferno itself looked innocent from the outside, an innocuous door in an alley between a newsagents and a betting shop. As he approached the door, he could hear the bass thump of music from inside. Steeling himself, Jim pushed the door open and walked in. Inside was a small foyer, with a cloakroom attendant and two other doors. One clearly led to a toilet and changing area, the other into the club proper.

The tall, well built attendant looked up from the newspaper he was reading and grinned a welcome. “Hi. First time here?”

“Umm … yes.”

“Ok no problems. Welcome to Inferno. I just need to get you to sign the book as a guest.” As Jim did so, he continued, “That’ll be £5 for the evening, unless you’ll be coming regularly, in which case it’s £30 for the year.”

“I’ll stick with just this evening for the moment.”

“No problems. Can I take your coat?” Jim handed the duster over and the attendant openly appraised him. “Nice. I can see you’ll fit right in here. Go on through. It’s quiet at the moment but it should pick up in an hour or so.”

Jim muttered something that he hoped sounded polite and went through the door into the club proper. Inside, the dull bass beat became a roar as he was exposed to the full-force of the music pounding through the club. The area beyond the door was dimly lit, the only well-lit area being the bar, which he stumbled towards. Apart from himself, there were only a couple of people in the club, including the bartender who turned to greet him.

Forcing himself to remain calm, he ordered a beer and stood at the bar, slowly scanning the room. The few others in the room stood apart, not talking to each other and looking around in a manner similar to himself. He tried to be surreptitious as he looked at them. Jim was surprised as he had expected to see the typical mincing queers in here. Instead, the guys looked … well … normal. They were a range of body types and ages, some muscular, one overweight but still filling out his leathers quite well. As he looked around he became aware of movement behind him and out of the corner of his eye he saw the familiar pattern of a uniform shirt. Reflexes kicked in and he surged to his feet, standing to attention. The man behind him chuckled and put his hand on Jim’s shoulder.

“At ease, soldier. We don’t tend to be that formal here, not on a first visit anyway.”

Jim turned to see a man in his mid thirties, about 6 ft 3 tall and wearing a tight police uniform over his impressively bulky muscle. As Jim looked closer, he could see that the entire uniform was made of leather — the shirt of soft white leather, the black tie, skin-tight trousers. The uniform included insignia, the only thing differing from the standard uniform being the boots, which in this case were knee-high glossed leather.

“Well, I see you’re not shy about staring,” the stranger grinned.

Jim babbled an apology, “Sorry, I just haven’t seen a uniform like that before … umm … looks great.”

“Thanks, I’m Steve.”

“J … Ben.”

“Well, J-Ben, welcome to my club. Dave, another beer for J-Ben.”

The bartender nodded to Steve and brought the beer. Steve sat down on a stool beside Jim, and the two men began to talk. To Jim’s surprise the conversation flowed easily and ranged from politics to motorbikes. The one thing they didn’t talk about was sex, which put him at his ease. He had expected to be having to fend off advances all evening, but this bar was constantly challenging his expectations.

As they talked, Dave kept replenishing Jim’s beer and the bar slowly filled up.

The level of the music increased too, and the two men found themselves leaning closer so they could hear each other. Occasionally, Steve would turn to greet someone as they came in and give Jim a chance to scan the crowd. Jim was aware that making contact with Steve was a great step forward in his mission and he didn’t want to lose contact with him. Eventually though, he had to go to the loo, and when he came back, to his disappointment Steve wasn’t there.

He waved the bartender over who explained that Steve had to go and sort some business out and would be back soon. He had told Dave to keep Jim’s drinks coming though, so Jim soon had another beer. He was feeling pleasantly buzzed now and decided to switch to water as he needed to keep his mind on the job.

He slowly scanned the room, more curious than anything else and was surprised by the variety of clothing being worn — leather, rubber, uniforms, sports gear, leather and rubber versions of uniforms, skinhead gear. In fact, virtually everything that Kyle had provided him with.

Then he saw Steve beckoning to him and he worked his way across the crowded bar towards him. As he pushed through, he was aware of hands brushing against him and one squeezing his butt. He didn’t react, just headed over to Steve.

Steve grinned as he approached.

“So, J-Ben, enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, I am. Thanks, Steve. Great club.”

“Good, glad you like it. So…” Steve paused, “…are you ready to make your first visit here more memorable?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Just a bit of fun.” Steve held up a pair of leather wrist restraints. “For a start, I think you should probably be wearing these.”

Jim hardly hesitated as he held his hands out to Steve. Steve quickly unbuckled Jim’s wristband and then strapped the wrist restraints tightly on. Then he padlocked them shut and secured them together with a larger padlock so that Jim’s hands were crossed in front of him.

“Much better. Now you really look like a boy. Follow me.”

Jim followed Steve through the crowded club. To his surprise he wasn’t nervous. He realised that he trusted Steve, that Steve wouldn’t hurt him or do anything that Jim didn’t want to happen. A small part of his brain was telling him that letting Steve lock his hands together was unwise, but he ignored that. Steve took Jim to a quieter corner of the bar, where a heavy metal frame stood out from the wall. Picking up a bottle of beer he put it to Jim’s lips and tilted it until Jim swigged the whole bottle. His head now felt decidedly fuzzy.

Steve grabbed Jim’s secured wrists and locked them to a heavy chain. Pulling on the other end of it, Jim’s wrists were raised to the top of the metal frame until his arms were stretched up and his muscled torso displayed through the tight leather vest. This happened so fast that he hardly had time to yell. He went to ask Steve what was going on, but Steve pressed his gloved hand over Jim’s mouth.

“Ssshh. You know you’ll enjoy this, why else come to this bar?”

Jim immediately calmed down as the words penetrated his beer-addled brain.

“But just to make sure … open wide.”

Jim opened his mouth as Steve pushed a red rubber ball inside it. The leather straps attached to the ball were secured tightly behind Jim’s head, and now all he could do was grunt at Steve as the club owner rubbed his hands over Jims bulging pecs.

“Now this is nice. Hmm, Ben, you really are a hot piece of muscle.”

With that, Steve pulled out a thick leather collar and strapped it around Jim’s neck. Locking it on, he tugged at the D-Ring on the front, pulling Jim close to his face.

“Oh, yes, I’m going to keep you.”

Kneeling down in front of Jim, he removed Jim’s boots, and then unzipped his chaps. Letting them fall to the floor, he rubbed his hands up and down Jim’s legs, resting them on his upper thigh.

“Very nice, though the hair will have to go.”

He replaced Jim’s boots and secured ankle shackles on each of Jim’s feet. Then kicking them wide, he locked them to the sides of the frame. Jim was now stretched out and helpless, and naked except for his leather tank-top and jockstrap.

“Yes, I think you’ll make a fine addition to the stable.”

Jim hung there, hardly comprehending what had been just said. Instead he felt happy, proud, and judging by the bulge within his jockstrap, highly aroused.

He had never been treated this way before, never been aroused by a man and yet he found himself eager to submit to the man standing in front of him.

Steve moved close to Jim, pressing against him, letting Jim feel his leather uniform against his own leather and flesh. He ran his gloved hands up and down Jim’s back, letting them rest on the tight globes of Jims arse.

“Oh yes, a good addition indeed. I think we’ll have to start your training in the very near future.”

He let go of Jim’s arse.

“But not tonight. I don’t want to freak you out. I think just hanging there for a while should give you enough of a taste of what’s in store.”

With that, he pressed some buttons on the wall, and Jim felt the frame rise into the air. Once it was about 10ft up, Steve pressed another button and the frame moved out away from the wall. Jim realised that he could now be seen by the whole club and the cheers of appreciative patrons showed that he had been spotted. Two spotlights clicked on to highlight his helpless body.

Jim hung there, feeling horny in a way he’d never felt before and completely on display to the club. His beer-fuddled mind was confused by the lights and he could only vaguely remember why he was in the club in the first place. As he tried to deal with his increasingly engorged cock by thrusting his hips to and fro, he heard appreciative yells from the floor below. The lights began heating him up so sweat began running down his muscles, the drool running around the gag joining it and he briefly wondered what the hell the Inspector would think of this as an undercover role.

 

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This story originally appeared on Eckie’s bondage website, and it is being re-posted here with the original author’s permission.

 

Copyright © 2008 and 2015 by lthr_jock.

 

All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

 

This story is erotic gay fiction and is for mature audiences only. It may contain supernatural themes, sex scenes, violence, coarse language, drug use and other adult themes.

 

Metal would like to thank lthr_jock for granting permission for this story, which has previously appeared on other websites, to be re-posted here.