Sunday, 27 December 2015

Fiction: Officer Safety #1

Author's note:

I love hearing your horny feedback and who enjoy and have similar interests.  Lots of ways to get in touch.  Start with for my Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Bdsmlr feeds.  You can also text/WhatsApp me at +447942999885 if you want, or skype:uk.cop, or

This work of fiction is free to be distributed in the public domain provided the original author and paragraph above is included.

The annual chore that was officer safety refresher was finally heading towards its conclusion.  It was a necessary evil with holding the skill set of a public order trained resource.  Two days of running around a 45,000ft training facility, complete with its own firearms range, mock town, cells and gym.  Fortunately we ran one of the best national facilities available. 

Whilst I maintained a high level of physical fitness for my upper 40s, the shield I'd been using was beginning to feel far heavier than it actually was, and my arms and fists were sore.  Six foot two; but some of the younger guys were now referring to me as 'old timer'.  I got my own back.  Handcuff, and take down training meant the 'old timer' was often sitting on top of them applying the restraints, whilst they mock struggled.

Nonetheless I still had sweat running down my back.  The uniform consisted of flame resistant top and pants, heavy black leather boots, leather gloves, silk balaclava, riot helmet with face shield, ballistic protection vest, and hard armour strapped to shoulders arms, thighs and lower legs.  All that with belt equipment, baton, six pairs of plastic cuffs, radio, pepper, and med kit.  I also wore a jock and hard groin protector, just in case a knee or other projectile was aimed between my legs.

I was looking forward to getting out of my kit, into a hot shower, and then lounging around in baggies for three days leave to let my muscles recover before returning to the day to day of front line policing supervision – and there was less than 30 minutes until the course's scheduled finish time.

Twelve participants, four of which were women, two male and one female training instructors.  Four from my area, and the rest I mostly recognised from either working with previously or just seeing around.  A few nice pieces of eye candy to look at during breaks and instructional sections; although being a boss (both occupationally and in the bedroom) meant a level of detachment was required.  My personal situation was also common knowledge, and I knew at least two of the women present (including the instructor) were out lesbians at work.

The male and female instructor I knew well – they'd been in the role for a number of years, and were experts in their field.  You could always count on them to offer advice when there had been a tricky violent situation to deal with; and to give you the appropriate words and phrases to use when examined on the stand to justify your actions.

John was a power house of a man.  Whilst smaller in stature to myself, his dark looks and lean body made him an ideal person to play and support the rugby team.  Not overly muscular, his dark no 2 dark crop and wide shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, fantastic shapely butt and powerful legs.  I knew he took care of himself and watched his diet, as I'd seen him on numerous occasions supplementing his protein intake and in the gym. 

We'd worked with each other a number of times, and had 'bonded' a number of years earlier when a particular technique regularly used just point blank didn't work on me now matter how much he tried.  He'd always remembered and used me as an example since then.  I'd thought a number of times when he was face down on the mats how good that butt would taste and how much of a pig he'd be hooded and strapped in my sling; but alas, I'd seen him at a number of events with his wife and kid, so eye candy was as far as that was ever likely to go.

The 'newbie' instructor, as John had referred to him had caught my eye.  Owen was his name I'd discovered.  He sported dark brown hair which was shaven and sculpted into a perfect flat top, clean shaven and square jawed, with a mouth I just wanted to abuse instantly.  The standard red training school T-shirt was strained by his massive biceps and wide chest.  This guy was definitely a muscle boy, that was for sure.  Prone on the floor, I was pretty sure he cold flex his ass cheeks and open bottles of beer that way.  The issued black jogging pants were drawn in to his narrow waist, and then ballooned to his thick legs.

This new eye candy had most definitely improved the two days of sweating, running, control and restraint.  I could look at him all day, and he was certainly reserved a place in my fantasies.  I'd enjoyed seeing him geared up, demonstrating techniques, and his massive arms double cuffed behind his back.  I wondered if he realised I'd also visualised him padlocked inside my cage.

But for now, the refresher was over for another year, and all the paperwork was complete.  Many of the other students were in a rush to get away –  it's amazing what an extra few hours in the day will give you.  Getting out of their kit where they were standing, or in corridors or otherwise, sweaty kit everywhere.

I needed to discuss one or two little 'concerns' with John, so I caught up with him before my next key priority – a hot shower, a clean set of clothes –and a decent meal.  It was obvious he was just as keen to get an early finish and home to family.

“We're the last course in tonight – Sarah and I are heading off, and newbie is gonna lock up.  Still sailed through boss”.

“I dunno for how much longer! Catch you later, enjoy the rest of your night.”

With that, I picked up my kit bag and headed to the showers, walking through the main open training area to the shower and locker area.  Dumping my belt onto the floor, I just wanted out my sweaty kit and into the shower as quickly as possible.  Removing the straps on my torso body armour, it was the first to hit the floor.  Next, I removed the velcro around my shoulder and forearm armour, and sat to remove the thigh and shin guards.  Down to just my dark blue riot coveralls, already I felt a lot better, despite my muscles being sore.

Peeling down the zips and removing the top, my body hair was matted with my own sweat, and the fresh air was cool relief on my body.  Looking back at myself in the mirror, I mentally made note that I wasn't doing too bad for a guy of 48.  I kept my head shaven, even though these days my dark hair was more what you might describe as DILF grey anyway.  My wide shoulders narrowed down to my waist and the dense covering across my chest started dark, then went grey.  Fitter than the average 48 year old, my arms, chest and abs were still defined enough to make generate jealous looks in the gym.

My scuffed boots were the next thing to free myself of – I kept them clean but there was little point in a high shine to these, since they were more about practicality than impression.  I preferred them high leg, to give my ankles and lower shins more protection anyway, and as a traditionalist – it was laces for me all the way.  Releasing my feet felt like a blessing in itself, the thick wool socks would certainly have soaked up my sweat, and perhaps some petrol fumes over the preceding days.  Just dumping the boots and socks where I stood, I would sort out my kit after I was refreshed.

Unbuckling my wide leather belt, there was a pungent smell of leather, and stepping out of the uniform felt fantastic, the cold air hitting my legs and ass.  Releasing my cock and balls from the groin protection jock was heaven, and finally I was ready for the hot water.

It was one of those times when a hot shower feels like something else.  The large communal shower was hot, and all mine to enjoy.  Leaning prone position against the wall of the shower, I let the hot water run across my back as if it were to drain away the ache in my muscles for a few moments.  Such simple pleasures sometimes.

Re running through the events and knowledge of the last few days, I felt like energy was once again starting to return to my muscles.  The smell of sweat was slowly being replaced with the smell of vanilla soap, and my focus shifted to allow myself the thought of the newbie trainer prone and restrained.  Blood once again started rushing to my cock; but it wasn't really the place or time until I got home.

I rustling noise brought me to back to reality from the changing room and opening my eyes, I was greeted by the 'newbie' in all his muscular form.  Still in his trainer's uniform, now with jacket on; I had forgotten we were the only ones left in the building.  Brushing thoughts to one side, I tried to distract from my growing member, and finished my ritual shower.

He sat on one of the benches, in my clear view.

“So newbie, thanks for your input over the last few days.  How are you finding fitting into the team here?”

“Pretty good Sir.  The work is enjoyable and it's a friendly bunch of people”.

“No formalities here, it's Geoff, unless you prefer Sir of course”.

“Sir's good.”  He looked me right in the eye, then dropped his gaze.  Oh God, he couldn't have looked more submissive if he wanted to.  Trying to clear my thoughts of a submissive muscle boy in cuffed and on his knees, I turned off the shower, and walked back towards where he was now sitting, and all my kit was dumped.

“Good to have you with us.  Hell of an impressive body on you”.

“Sir, thank you sir”. That was just too many Sirs to be automatic – that was purposefully inserted.  Towelling myself down, he glanced up and across my torso.  “You've been a physically strong team member yourself over the last days Sir, and now I see why”.

“I'm an active boss.  Show me more of the body...”

Towel still wrapped around me, I wanted to see what the reaction would be after the compliments on my physical fitness and constant use of submissive language.  I need not have worried.

“Sir, Yes Sir, pleasure Sir”.

First was the work issued waterproof, stretched tight over his back and biceps.  Down to the work issued red t-shirt, pecs straining inside and the outline of two nipples which I'd never noticed previously.  With one fluid motion, he lifted this over his head to reveal a fine hairless muscle boy chest.  I stepped closer to view from behind and in front.

Toned delts and a well defined back, led way to a fantastic set of abs, opening up into a wide set of pecs and bicep/triceps which were equally as impressive.

From my vantage point, it was quite obvious that the now bulge in my own towel was equally being matched by a bulge in the front of this tracksuit.  His eyes were lowered, staring at my towel.  I raised by eyebrows, and said “very impressive boy....   and?”

Reaching down, he pulled the string of his tracksuit, and kicked off his training shoes, and pulled them down round his ankles and kicked them off.  He was wearing a white jock, which was now strained with his hard cock head sticking out the front.

“Good.  Very impressive from all angles”.  The legs were equally as impressive as the torso, with muscle separation evident and well defined calves.  From behind, the two hard butt cheeks were as good as I thought they might have looked during earlier training. 

I traced my fingers across one powerful leg, across an ass cheek and up the centre of his ass crack, around to the six pack, up the chest and over and nipple to his neck and finally to his lips.  The lips parted purposefully and his tongue started licking my finger.  Pushing it further into his mouth, it went inside willingly.

Still in my towel, I planted my lips on his and probed into his mouth.  He kissed back just as hard, even passively taking my tongue inside him.

“Down on your knees”

Without a further order, he dropped down and looked up at me for further instruction.  It seemed perhaps the fantasies I'd been thinking of were about to come true after all.  This beautiful hard muscle boy was passively on his knees just as I'd imagined.

With one hand, I dropped my towel to the floor.  He instinctively opened his mouth and started to lean forward, but I wasn't going to allow him that pleasure yet, even if I was ready for his mouth.

Taking the wide leather belt out of my uniform, I fastened it round his neck, fashioning the muscle boy an instant collar and leash.  Damn, it made him look even hotter.  Next, I snapped a cuff round his wrist behind his back, and then double cuffed him.

Fully erect and hard to my 7 inches, I returned to present my meat towards his mouth. 

“Let me hear you beg muscle boy”.

“Sir, please let me suck you off Sir, swallow your load and use me as your fuck boy”.

This boy already had me rock hard and thinking of all the fantasies I was going to make come true with him.  I rammed my meat the full length straight into his throat.  Expecting a gag reflex, I was even more surprised when he took the full length without faltering.  A few full withdrawals and then full length back into his throat finally elicited that response, and I pulled him on harder using the belt-collar.

Pulling fully out, I presented him with the head to service.  His tongue darted across the glans and he made good progress stimulating me, getting closer and closer towards nirvana.  He greedily licked the pre cum which had built up, I could feel every stroke of his tongue.  Despite his hands being cuffed behind his back – this boy had either a talented, or well trained mouth.  I could see his cock straining against the jock he was wearing – but there was no way he was getting relief yet...  if ever...

He took my swollen cock head into his mouth and throat, working every inch and increasing the pace to pleasure me.  Soon I could hold back no longer, and with a final hard pull on his collar and the hand on the back of his neck, my balls tightened and I unloaded my jizz into his throat. 

It felt like I came gallons, my fantasies and his oral talents had made sure I was fully fired up for the occasion.  Far from struggling or coughing under the load, I saw his Adam’s Apple gulp down the liquid, which made me produce even more.

As my breathing returned to normal, he licked every inch clean to make sure none of the precious liquid was wasted, even applying more pressure to the glans to milk out every drop as his reward.

The sexy as hell image of this muscle hunk cuffed and collared on his knees still had me turned on, and I was sure I wasn't finished using him yet.  The sore muscles from earlier had strangely seemed to have gone away for a while.

Of course, the training school had a full cell, and this boy was going to look so good cuffed and in leg restraints with a boss riding him... 

“So boy, fucked in cell here, or cell in your bosses playroom tonight?”

“Sir, BOTH, Sir”

I took my boot socks from the pile of my kit still unpacked, and knotted them together.  Planting the knot between his lips, I pulled them tight around the back of his neck and tied them. This improvised gag was a good start.  There were some other tools I noticed in the gym earlier I could put to good use too.

For now, I pulled my silk balaclava onto his head the wrong way, to limit his vision, and then pulled my riot helmet over the top.  A bit of improvisation is always a good thing until I could fasten and padlock him into a leather hood later and use his mouth again and again....

With that, I packed my kit into my bag, along with his clothes, and planning how I was going to use the cell...  damn... I was hard again....

Monday, 28 September 2015

Fiction: "Muscles" Part #2

Author's note:

I love hearing your horny feedback and who enjoy and have similar interests.  Lots of ways to get in touch.  Start with for my Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Bdsmlr feeds.  You can also text/WhatsApp me at +447942999885 if you want, or skype:uk.cop, or

This work of fiction is free to be distributed in the public domain provided the original author and paragraph above is included.

With his hand on the back of my neck, he half pushed, half led me back outside his ‘gym’, and to the first door on the left. The smell hit me as I stepped over the threshold. It was unmistakeable – the pungent smell of rubber. 

“Put on what I’ve laid out for you, then kneel; I’ll be back and you can warm up.”

With that, the door closed behind me, and I was alone. 

Taking in my surroundings, the side room in the barn must have been at least 15 feet by 10, with racks down the left and right full of rubber kit. To my right was a high rail from which hung down what looked like various rubber full body suits, wetsuits, waders and boots lined the floor beneath them. To the left was a lower rack where I could see more waterproofs, harnesses of various sorts and straps, hoods and masks, and yet more boots. On top of the racks were open storage cupboards with more hoods. Some of the kit looked well used; muddy and worn – and other gleamed and were well looked after. The smell and sight of what I saw kept me horny, looking down noticing my hard on was oozing pre-cum.

In the middle of the room there was a plain bench, on which there appeared as mass of rubber. I guess this was my ‘training wear’. I lifted the rubber bundle – the rubber felt a substantial thickness; and opening it out it appeared to be a one piece rubber suit. Telling the inside from out was easy - as the outside was highly polished and gleaming. There were attached boots, and the arms ended in what looked like heavy rubber gauntlets. It appeared there was a partial rear entry zip, which lead up to the shoulder level, and then the suit tapered out to an open face hood which looked like it was designed to be pulled up over the head.

Working out how to best get into the suit, I decided that seated was the best way to go. Unzipping the rear entry zip it seemed to stretch right from crotch round the suit to almost the shoulders. Still naked, I wondered how easily it would be to get into the suit, but I actually had no problems in sliding both my legs down into the boots of the suit, which seemed a good fit. The boots were cold at first touch, but seemed a reasonable fit and were comfortable enough. Sliding and smoothing down the rubber up my legs, I pulled the torso up over my cock, balls and butt, and decided it was probably easiest to push my head through into the open face hood then put my arms into the sleeves like I was being put into a straightjacket. Warm up he’d said… I was already getting that way struggling to get into the skin tight suit. The neck of the suit snapped shut and I adjusted the hood to the right position.

I pushed my arm into the suitable hole, and with a bit of struggling, one hand pushed its way into the fingertips of the rubber gauntlet. Making sure the rubber was stretched across my chest, I pushed my other hand into the remaining arm hole. As I explored the hands in the suit a little more, try as I might, I wasn’t able to separate my fingers in the gloves. It struck me that even though I was able to see fingers from the outside of the suit, from the inside, they felt more like I had pushed both my hands into some kind of rigid fist mitts, as I could no longer feel sensation or manipulate anything with my hands.

I certainly wasn’t able to reach behind me to pull up the rest of the zip to the suit, no matter how hard I tried. Inside, I was warm and getting warmer, but could still feel the cool outside air across part of my back. I tried again with no luck, as there was just no way of gripping anything. 

Completely stuck, there wasn’t much more I could do; so complied with my next instruction, and dropped to my knees.

I don’t know how long I waited. A few minutes perhaps. I was trying not to think of what Sir’s training was going to involve – nervous and excited at the same time. Trouble was, that just got me even hornier. I could feel my cock pushing against the tight front of the rubber suit, but the mitts of the suit meant I would only be able to rub myself at best.

I was brought back to reality by the sound of the heavy door opening and footsteps approaching. 

Sir approached me from behind, but I kept facing forward.

“Thought you might have a problem with your zip if you were a good boy. Let me make sure you’re correctly dressed. Just a few finishing touches. Up.”

As I stood up, there were sounds of movement behind me. Next, I felt cold rubber encase my head, and my vision became limited. 

“Open wide boy”

As the hood moved into position, something was pushing against my lips. Whatever it was, it felt large; and I couldn’t do anything but open wide and take it into my mouth. It was circular and stuffed my mouth open, but my tongue didn’t get the opportunity to explore it more before it was pushed into position by my boss. It extended into my mouth to the back of my tongue, pushing it down and there wasn’t going to be any way to talk with this in place.

I could feel straps or laces being tightened behind my head, I couldn’t tell which; all I knew is that it got tighter and the rubber pushed against my face, and the gag further into my throat. Sir tightened each lace or strap, and then when he was happy, I felt him fastening the hood’s collar around my neck, and the unmistakeable click of a padlock.

The hood had a few pepper pot eye holes, so I had some limited vision. It gave me the first opportunity to see my muscle boss since he’d left me in the room. Now he was wearing what appeared a full black leather uniform. I was only able to see his torso, which looked magnificent with his muscles inside the tight fitting black leather. I assumed the rest of the uniform was complete, but found that I didn’t have enough movement in my neck to look down to see what else he was wearing. If I didn’t find his presence intimidating and horny beforehand, this took it to an entire new level. I already wanted to spit shine every inch of his uniform… and more.

Next, I felt him run his rough hand down the back of my exposed back, and slowly unzip round my butt and my hard cock and balls were exposed. He pulled my nuts back, which only went to turn me on more, and my already hard cock felt like it was going to explode. Next, my nuts and cock felt like they were pushed through something cold and metallic and something felt like it was being put around my waist and buckle fastened tighter. Again, there was more cold, steel sensation on my cock, and what sounded like another click – whatever it was, my cock felt and sounded like it was locked up for his pleasure and not mine. 

Moving round to my butt, I suddenly felt very exposed, and felt my hole being fingered and examined. Next, something very cold and wet was pushing to gain entry. Trying to relax, whatever it was felt substantial and very cold. He pushed as I relaxed, and felt like it was going to split me in two, before it finally went past its widest part and my hole snapped shut against the invading object. I’d had some large plugs inside me from past masters, but it felt like the shape of this was somehow different and larger.

With the plug in its final place, I felt a tickle between my ass and now locked up nuts, and the plug felt like it was being pushed on, and then something was being fastened behind my waist. Another click. Even if I couldn’t feel my fingers properly in the suit, it seemed my boss didn’t want me to play with myself for a while. I was getting used to the plug too – little did he know I’d been fantasising about him filling my hole after gym sessions.

The back zip was then finally slowly closed, and I was completely sealed in. I could already feel the sweat down my legs.

“Time to warm up boy”. 

Taken by the collar, and with my limited vision, he pulled me back out of the room, and back into the ‘gym’ area. He indicated towards a stationary bike and told me to get on. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought, being unable to see that well, and enclosed in rubber. Sitting on the bike seemed to push the plug inside me even further; pushing against my prostrate and making me even harder again inside my metal and rubber prison.

Extending my arms onto the handlebars, I was just able to curl them round to form a grip. No sooner had I done so when Sir took a length of rubber strapping and wrapped it round my fist and the grip; forcing me to keep my hands gripping the bike. The hand was also suitably wrapped. I caught a glimpse that he was wearing padded leather jeans, with a codpiece on the front, and white stripe down the leg. Shining knee length leather boots completed his look.

Next, it felt like straps were being looped around my ankles and feet, again ensuring that I was securely fastened to the equipment. 

“Fifteen minutes should be enough. Keep over 50rpm. Start pedalling”.

With a few adjustments to the bike’s front display, he programmed the time, and I started pedalling as told. Slowing increasing the pace, each revolution made the plug inside me twitch slightly, and I could feel the chastity device under the rubber suit pushing against my still raging hard on. 

After the first few minutes, I felt the resistance increase on the pedals. It wasn’t unachievable, although did take me a while to acclimatise to the new effort. I seemed to be able to breath enough for the effort levels through the gag. Suddenly, I felt a pulse in my butt rising in intensity from mild to strong. It came as a surprise, and I let a moan out into the gag.

“Keep over 50rpm boy, one of my training methods”

Concentrating hard, I pushed hard against the pedals, again returning to over 50rpm. Now, the shocking reduced to a level which felt like I was being slowly fucked – a pleasant sensation even if I did wish it was “Muscles” who had me bent over and was forcing himself inside me. 

I could look down enough to see the rpm and time left, and already I was almost 8 minutes through my warmup. Again, I maintained the pace for a while, before the resistance increased again. This time it seemed to have increased by a large amount, and with no option to stand in the pedals, it was hard work. Zap zap zap zap, once again, the intensity and pain levels increased in my ass, the electro firing. I moaned and grunted into the gag, feeling the sweat on my face and inside the suit. I got about a minute of shocks before I managed to his the pace again. I could see how his training methods were going to be effective.

The resistance didn’t get any higher and the minutes ticked up, as the sweat increased within my workout ‘uniform’. Before I knew any more, 15 minutes had passed, the resistance dropped, and the warm up was over. I caught my breath before whatever was coming next, and after a moment or two, the straps holding my feet in place were loosened, and the rubber straps over my fists released, and I was ordered of the bike.

“Good lad, now off the bike and over to the mirrors”. 

Over next to the mirrors were sets of free weights and a set of barbells. 

“Down on your knees.”

Compliant, I dropped to my knees, a foot or so from the mirror. I could see the boss go behind me looking for something, and then saw him return with a heavy metal rigid spreader bar for my ankles. As each was locked into place, it made me focus on my balance and tense my core muscles to avoid toppling over. Having selected an appropriate barbell, he stood in front of me, giving me a view of the full leathers. I wished I could have taken in the scent and taken care of the toe upwards, but the hood and gag made that impossible. 

“Bicep curls, three sets twenty.”

Gripping the bar in the mitts of the suit wasn’t an issue, and I found the curls fairly easy this time round. I managed each set fairly quickly and I got a break between them where the boss reached down and stroked my head. He seemed pleased with my technique and strength levels, and other than the rigid cuffs, there were no needs for punishments this time round. Shame was I was starting to enjoy my ass being stimulated.

By this point, I could feel the heat inside the rubber suit, sweat running down my face and by now it must have been collecting in the suit. Sir was still standing in front of me, those full leathers were looking better and better to taste every second.

Next came side lateral shoulder raises with two dumbbells. The weights were perhaps a little heavier than normally would have picked, and by the end of the first twenty, fatigue was hitting quickly.

“30 seconds, do it again”. The plug again started twitching in my ass, a gentle, rhythmic thrust, pleasure stimulation rather than pain.

The second set was far harder. About twelve before I fatigued to the point I needed to catch my breath.

Wham, the voltage increased to the level of pain in my ass, I let out a moan into the gag keeping me quiet. 

“Keep up the rest of the set boy”. I was starting to understand how this worked. But at the same time, I wanted to please this piece of beefcake in front of me, and not disappoint him. The last rep almost killed me, and I groaned into the gag, but the second set was over. Again, the pleasant stimulation returned. I wasn’t sure, but I was almost certain that my cock was still pushing against its metal chastity. I was desperate to jerk off, heightened by the constant stimulation of my hole; and to find out what was behind “Muscles” leathers. I had the impression that would happen before long, but I had no option in the matter.

The third set was steady and controlled, and surprisingly easy considering my struggles with the past set, and no change in weight. I did have to split them into two sets of ten, but I only paused for about ten seconds and there was no ‘encouragement’.

“You must be thirsty by now boy” came the voice from above. Ankles still in the metal spreader bar, my hands were finally free of weight, but working my arms and shoulders so hard meant they were trembling and sore. Despite the spit which was lubricating my gag-stuffed mouth, I needed more fluids.

The pepper pot holes in the hood were still restricting my vision, and now with the added sweat, I managed to see gloved hands unzipping the codpiece, and Sirs meat and bull balls drop free. Cut, thick and a seemed a good length even not fully hard although it was hard to evaluate in the hood. 

Sir looked like he was adjusting himself, and putting something on, but I couldn’t see fully. There was pulling on the front of my hood and the gag seemed to move around, and then the realisation of the thirst comment hit me. I cried out and moaned into the gag as best as I could “no no no”, but to no avail. I cried out as by butt once again became painful, and I felt warm liquid hit the back of my throat.

With the gag rammed so far inside my mouth, and a thirst from hell, I took gulps of the hot boss piss. I guess this training was going to improve my skills in not only building in body. I wasn’t something I would normally do; but on this occasion, all I could do was describe it as honour to be serving him, and as the stream continued, I lifted my hands placed them on his fully leathered butt, and pulled him closer. I wanted to taste him even closer, but the gag wasn’t going to let me get anywhere near. I could feel my cock pushing against its bounds inside the chastity and rubber suit. If I’d have been able to touch it, I would have cum right then and there.

Draining every last drop, I must have pleased him, as again he softly patted the side of my hood. I don’t know why, but I had an urge to take his gloved fingers into my mouth and such on each one of them.

Returning behind me, he released my ankles from the spreader bar and left the rubber strap restraints locked around my ankles.

There was pressure to the back of my neck, and a click, and the collar of my hood was loosened, unlaced and in one motion, the gag pulled out my mouth and the hood lifted off. I blinked and breathed unrestricted air, and flashed Sir a quick smile. I wasn’t going to be punished again, even if I did enjoy every one I’d had so far. The codpiece was back on, but I wanted to explore what was beneath with my tongue. 

“SIR Thank you SIR”

“Push ups down to my boots. Spit shine”

This didn’t worry me. Push ups I could do by the dozen, and spit shining every inch of his leathers was something I already wanted to do – more of a reward than a punishment. 

Each rep, I flexed my biceps and chest down and my tongue made contact with his boot leather. I guessed they were some form of motorcycle cop boots, toecaps were smooth and then raised to almost his knees. I’d been wanting to taste them as soon as I’d been aware he was wearing them, and made sure I gave long tongue strokes from the tip upwards during each rep. 

My form and ‘work’ must have met the requirements, as there were no punishments this time, and I completed all my sets with the sweat running down my face. After the sets were over, I kept up my work. The taste and smell was intoxicating. Every inch was gleaming with my spit when I was finished to my satisfaction.

I looked up for approval to notice Sir looking down at me, smile on his face, stroking his cock through the leather codpiece front of his jeans. I think it was the first time I’d really seen him smile.

“Last exercise before cool down – full sit ups. Tongue to leather”.

Again, Sir was busy getting something; and then I saw a full posture collar heading towards the neck of my suit. Fastened tight and padlocked shut, two more padlocks saw my wrists locked to the collar, and Sir moved to my ankles, and enclosed each in a rigid cuff about twelve inches wide.

Performing a full sit up in the position of hands and legs restrained certainly ensured correct posture. Focusing on squeezing my abs during the lift I soon got into a rhythm. Sir stood in front of me in his full leathers, and at the top of each movement, I slid my tongue over the leather I could reach, treating his leathers the same I way I had treated his boots.

I wondered how many others received his training. 

Again, I didn’t find the three sets too difficult, even with the plug stuffed inside me. After the last repetition, I remaining sitting and moved specifically to the now zipped padded codpiece and the contents. Sir’s training was certainly effective on me, and considering this was the last exercise, I’d enjoyed every moment – even including the punishments. 

Evidently, I think Sir was enjoying it too by the bulge in his codpiece and the hardness I could feel with my tongue through the leather. I don’t know there the leathers were from, but they tasted good, and I worked my tongue as hard as I could from the base to the tip, through the codpiece. Looking up at the bosses face for any reaction, I was pleased to see a nod to go on. He unlocked my wrists from my collar, and I immediately placed them across his butt to get more leverage. His ass cheeks were firm and taught, and I hoped at some point I’d get to serve between them.

I ran my tongue across every inch of the leather, breathing in the heady scent of hot boss inside tight leather, and enjoying the sound of my locked on rubber suit and the unique sound of creaking leather at every of boss’ movements. I was sure I could taste salt and musk from previous boys, which just added to my horniness. I must have doing a reasonable job, as I could feel Sir’s hardness through the padded leather codpiece. It created a U-shape and highlighted boss’ well-endowed crotch even better. Using my still fist mitted hands to add extra leverage, I pushed hard with my tongue at what felt like the base of Sir’s huge cock and then licked with all the pressure I was able to the tip of his head. While my arms and shoulders were tired from the physical training, every cell of me now wanted to serve him and swallow down his boss protein.

Still without the use of my hands, I managed to use my tongue to work the zip at the top of the codpiece into my mouth. With some manipulation, I pulled down and round the zip, and the codpiece fell away to reveal the bosses semi hardening cock and massive bull balls. Shaven hairless, it made him look even more massive, his cock head already moist and oozing a drop of pre cum. 

Using my tongue, I licked around each of his huge nuts, before lapping across them and taking them into my mouth, his cock head pushing against the front of my forehead through the hood. Boss let out a low, deep groan of pleasure, so I gave hit nuts a good deal of attention. 

The plug which was stuffing my ass started pulsing again – a reward perhaps?

His cock was now at full attention, veiny and the huge head ready for draining. I didn’t know if I could take the full length of it, but the urge to pleasure my boss was a powerful motivator. Starting at the base of the shaft, I worked my tongue up its length, and reaching the tip, I greedily licked off the sticky build up, enjoying the salty sex taste. Opening wide, I longed to swallow him down and thank him for his training. Slowly taking it in my mouth, I worked as much as I could manage into my throat, and pleasured him as much as I was able. His size filled me.

I could feel my own cock was rock hard inside the metal prison I was locked inside. Even trying to pleasure myself was pointless, he had complete control of my body and only with his permission was I going to cum – no matter how much I was desperate to.

Getting into a rhythm, I worked my tongue more as he half pulled away and then slammed his meat back into my throat, causing me to gag. Both of his hands went around the back of my head and forcibly pushed the entire length of his meat into my throat more. It was still clear he was in charge. Pulling me by the collar so I once again had the head exposed, I served every inch, before once again his cock rammed into my throat. 

The thrusts became more forceful, with his hot inches sliding down my throat, hard as a rock, still pulling me by my collar. The plug was pulsating in my ass to the same beat, making me feel like there was a thrust inside me each time I pushed inside my throat. It was driving me crazy to feel him inside me, and making even more frustratingly horny.

With some final thrusts, his hardness reached its climax, and with a deep moan, the boss unloaded his seed into my willing mouth. His hot load hit the back of my throat, and it was all I could do to take every drop. There seemed to be gallons, and I tried to pull away; but my boss’ hands on my collar meant I was going nowhere, and it was clear that was part of my training session. I gulped every drop, and then cleaned his head, sucking out any remaining.

I received a pat on the head – evidently my training session had gone well.

“Good lad – very hot”.

I smiled inside the hood. My muscles were on fire, but I’d enjoyed every bit of the training, and especially the last section. I was still hard inside my chastity, but rubbing myself with the fist mitts on made no difference. Whatever chastity it was, I was powerless to cum myself. 

“Boss is very happy with your performance. We need to get some protein inside you within the next few hours for recovery.” I wondered and hoped if that meant lean chicken, a protein shake, or more boss attention… 

“So here’s the options. We call it a night for now, and we continue your training a different day. Or we train legs tomorrow morning and you serve me tonight and stay in my cell overnight. Drop your head for the latter or you beg me for release now”

There were no plans for this evening or tomorrow, and I was enjoying every minute of his presence. There really wasn’t any question. I dropped my head and looked at his boots.

The wedge gag was forced back into my mouth, and buckled and locked shut.

This was going to be a fun way to grow.

Saturday, 18 April 2015

Fiction: "Muscles" Part #1

Author's note:

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This work of fiction is free to be distributed in the public domain provided the original author and paragraph above is included.

No matter how hard I tried, I’d reached a plateau in my training.  Spending some time working with a personal trainer in my gym had helped, but I was just feeling like I wasn’t growing any more.  Hitting the gym almost daily I’d made gains, and I was watching my diet; but I just needed something to take me to the next level.  Getting to know the same faces at the gym provided encouragement, and everyone had their own opinion.  Faces had come and gone, and that’s where I noticed him first.
Standing what must have been six four, a good few inches over my six foot frame, I guessed he’d joined the gym a few months ago.  Perhaps not what you’d call pretty, perhaps early 50s, a square jawed face, well weathered by life’s experience.  His massive neck widened to a broad back, which looked like it had great definition in the traps and lats, then narrowed down to his waist and then what looked like an impressive set of hams and quads. 
He looked tough; someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, and always have on your side.  He worked hard too.  He always worked out in cotton sweats or nylon trackies, and a t shirt.  Sometimes I wish he’d worn shorts or a muscle vest as I’d have liked to have got a better look. I reckoned his chest must have been at least 52 inch, with some great definition in his biceps and forearms.
We’d had little interaction other than a nod to each other of acknowledgement as we passed each other on the way in or out of the changing rooms.  In my head I just called him “Muscles”... it just seemed appropriate.  Mostly he seemed to be training and finishing up as I arrived at the gym.
I was up to 100kgs which isn’t a bad weight for someone who’s six feet tall.  My calves and hams were well developed – I never seemed to have any problems in training my legs.  It was the chest, back and abs which were really the problem areas, along with my biceps and triceps.  Lat pulldowns galore, so my shoulders were okay, but just couldn’t get my chest above 46”.
I’d finished my leg workout for the day, and returning to the changing rooms, I was completely spent.  Sitting on a bench and trying to get my breath back, one of the other guys who trained regularly there was getting ready to head out, and we passed our normal pleasantries.  John and I got on to talking about a new protein powder company which was doing some good mail order deals, and then on to back and abs training. 
With just two of us in the changing rooms, who should walk in but “Muscles” himself.  I acknowledged him with a nod and a smile, and continued my conversation with John about training.  John had his own suggestions about arm training, and I was interested in his opinion.  John had good bicep and triceps definition; and great genetics.
Stripping down to my black jock, I’d recovered enough to hit the showers, and John headed out.  My changing bench gave me a good view of “Muscles” from behind, and I finally got the opportunity to check out the torso without coverings.  Already in his nylon trackies, he was bent over looking for something in his kit bag.  Shirtless, his back was every bit as impressive as I’d hoped it might be.  I wondered if I’d ever be able to duplicate the definition he had, even if I did the same training.  In the bright light of the changing rooms, I could admire his musculature, and also he was nicer eye candy than I expected.
Turning round, he caught me looking.
“You train hard, you’re here all the time”.  Wow, ‘it’ speaks after all.
“Aye boss, if only I could work on my torso a bit more”.  It just felt like “boss” rather than “buddy” or “mate” was somehow more appropriate.
“Well, you’re looking good now, but better with some more chest definition”.  A compliment.  I think I must have blushed it coming from someone so big.
“Abs, back and arms are my weakness areas, no matter how hard I try”.
He might just have been looking at my abs, but you know, I swear he looked at my jock.
“If you ever want some special training, then let me know”. He said and raised an eyebrow.
Was that a come on?  Nah, probably not; but I figured any exposure to the guy and his training methods was going to be a good thing.  The fact that I would have happily eaten dinner off his abs was just an extra bonus.
“Anytime boss, I’d like that”.  I knew it would unlikely amount to anything anyway – it was just one of those things which is said and not really meant.
“I’m only a member here for a while as I’m equipping my own training room at home.  Come round Sat afternoon I’ll show you the ropes”.  It was Thursday night so that was plenty of time for recovery, and my Saturday was free. 
“Sure, boss.  Thanks”.  We exchanged numbers, and he told me where he lived.  It wasn’t too far from the gym it seemed. 
Saturday morning arrived, and out of common courtesy, I sent a text message to the number he’d given me, just to test the water and see if the offer had indeed been genuine.
“Hi boss, happy for your training tips if you still have some time this afternoon.  Thanks”
Less than five minutes passed before a response arrived.
“Still free to train you.  3pm?”
“3pm fine.  Will see you then”.  It was 1pm.  Donning a black jock, my trackies and a vest, I downed a protein shake and was ready to go with time to kill.  Mapping reported 20 minutes from home to his place.  It couldn’t show me the exact location; but close enough to find my way from there.
Looking forward to a good hard session, I left in good time and headed to the address he’d given me.  There was a row of normal looking semi detached houses, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find the number he’d given me.  Running through my head that I’d been taken a ride, I texted him, suspecting I might not receive a response.
“Look for 33, follow farm road behind and just keep driving about half a mile.”  Aha, that might explain it – it’s off the road.  Driving along the well maintained concrete track, I came close to some farm buildings, and a large house as he’d described. 
My phone beeped, a text message “barn”
At the opposite side of a concreted yard area stood the barn.  I grabbed my gym bag and headed towards the open door.  Inside it was a breeze blocked entrance corridor with a number of doors off. 
“In here”  came a familiar voice from another door straight ahead.  Following the voice, the other door lead to a large high ceiling and what looked like fully equipped gym area, with plenty of machines, free weights and floor space.  “Muscles” certainly took his training seriously if this was anything to go by.
There he was, all six four of him.  Shirtless, in a pair of MMA style tight shorts, he looked huge, and suddenly very very handsome. 
“Hi.  Nice to see you.  Right; let’s see what we’ve got to work with then and see what you’re capable of.  Just down to your jock so I can take a better look”.  It wasn’t a strange request; he was massive; knew his stuff; and wanted to see the areas which needed improvement.  The only problem was my thinking about how good his shorts looked had made my jock tighter than before to say the least.  Worst still; I enjoyed his direct, naturally dominant approach; and just felt the need to please him.
My vest came off, followed by my shoes and trackies, so I was just down to my jock.  I’d succeeded a little in not quite being so obvious by thinking of every female politician I could remember.  He stood behind me, running his hands across my neck and back, across my shoulders and then indicated for me to lift my arm to the side.
“We certainly need some more work there; but that’s at least easy to train”.
Tracing my pecs, chest, and down to my abs, there was a disapproving frown.
“Let’s see if we can’t work those to exhaustion today”
I was concentrating on how big I was going to look, and not the fact that he had his hands all over me.
“So should we start your training in something a little more suitable from your Recon profile then?”  If there was any ambiguity previously, there definitely wasn’t now.  He ran his hands along the band of my jock and down my butt cheeks.  I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.  Instant hard on.  Seems perhaps I was going to get to taste those shorts after all.
“Yes thank you SIR”.
With one hand, he pulled down on my jock, and my 8 cut inches sprang to attention.
“You’re gonna be my little toy tonight boy.  Now, out and into the first door on the left and put on the suit I’ve laid out for you”