Friday 3 June 2022

Fiction: Ride Out, Locked In #1

“Not a problem, I’ll get it from the basement”.

“Aye, I’ve been thinking of getting some of that muck-off stuff for my visor for a while”

An early Friday finish on a summer’s day meant the luxury of a few hours blast out on the motorcycle with a work colleague. We’d chatted about our love for bikes, and this was our second ride out together. He was easy on the eyes too – a six foot two skinhead, shaved head with goatee. He was well built and previously into his bodybuilding – which he still maintained, with broad shoulders and muscled arms. Tanned and lean, I’d often found myself checking him out at work – from the broadness of his chest right down to his solid legs and tight bubble butt. He was a nice guy with it, and of course I had no problems sharing his company on or off the job.

It was just an added bonus to see him in full bike leathers. Here he was standing in my kitchen, in his black Dianese race leathers, which just seemed to make his butt look even more toned and attractive. Black SIDI boots finished off his kit. It really was a pleasure to enjoy the view from behind when he was ‘lead bike’ when we were out.

My basement was also my well-equipped playroom, and although he was aware of my lifestyle and didn’t seem to have a problem with it, it wasn’t something we’d ever needed to discuss. We just hadn’t discussed relationships or partners.

“Nice place, and even bigger with another floor under as well” he noted.

“Yeah, useful for storage”

“hahaha ... is that where you keep your gimps...” he joked, grinning.

“Well, yeah... actually.... it’s also my playroom” I flashed his smile back at him to serve him right for being cocky.

“No way!” That’d teach him.

“Everything I need to keep a guy under control, haha” I joked back.

“Let me see then....” he grinned.

“Well, don’t know if someone so narrow minded as you could cope… ” reverse psychology…

“Come on, course...”

“Oh well, just warning you if you’re the naïve it might damage our friendship...”

“Fuck off!” he cursed with a smile. He’d had his warning, I was just worried I’d be the stuff of gossip at work come Monday.

Still both in our leathers, he followed me down the wooden steps into the basement. It extends the majority of the house, lined with bricks, which are blacked out. There are plenty of alcoves and recesses which I’ve filled with a mixture of attachment points, cells and cages, with barred and solid metal doors. You might say any scene catered for. With areas of high ceiling, there are plenty of heavy 19th century manacles hanging down for attachment, and a hanging strap cage.

Then there’s all the normal facilities like a urinal, bed, bondage bench, St. Andrew’s Cross, and shelves of uniforms, leathers, and every type of hood, ass and cock toy you could think of collected over the years.

“Wow” was his first exclamation... “you’re well into this stuff”.

“Well, I’ve collected lots over the years, and I’m fairly into it.” I busied myself looking for the visor cleaning spray we’d talked about earlier, but kept him in view out the corner of my eye.

He walked up and down the racks of kit, running his fingers across some of it, the sound of his leathers creaking as he walked up and down. I suspected part of him saw this as teasing me. I was enjoying his company regardless. He seemed to be especially interested by the heavier items on my storage shelves.

“Can I try some of it?”

“Yeah, if you want” my head down looking inside a large storage box. “I might even let you out too, ha”.

Finding the cleaning spray, I turned to observe him checking out the shelves of kit again. A prisoner escort belt came off the shelf, with two attached handcuffs.

“Dunno if that will fit round your leathers, but we can try”. He handed me the belt. “So this round your waist, and it buckles shut around your back.... then your hands just snap into the cuffs; or if you want extra restriction, you can cross your arms over your chest”. As suggested crossed his hands, and presented me with his wrists. Wrapping one cuff round his wrist, I clicked the ratchet shut, then similarly fastened the other, immobilising him. My cock started to harden in my tight leathers at the sight of him in full leathers, yet securely restrained. The tan coloured belt fastened around his waist even seemed to highlight the shape of his butt.

“Where are these from?”

“They are ex-prison issue escort cuffs as used on difficult customers. Nice and secure. During play some guys also like them as if they’re on tight, stops them from playing with themselves.”

“Well, I can still manage, ha.” he moved the belt round slightly, and cupped his leathered crotch in his hand and gave it a stroke.

“True, but not if I do this...” I unbuckled it, pulling his still cuffed hands back to his sides, and then fastened it far tighter. “Now you can’t”. Trying to prove me wrong, he tried again, struggling and pulling, the sound of his leathers creaking while he did so, his arms crossed and pinned to his sides this time.

I let him struggle and test the restraint for a while “don’t be hurting yourself; just let me know when you want out and I’ll take it off”. He was still wearing his full one piece leathers, zipped up to just below the neck, so must have been getting warm from the valiant struggling he was doing. I thought he probably had about a 46-48 inch chest and 34 waist, the wideness of his shoulders giving a pleasing visual to his narrow waist. He looked good restrained and struggling, and I was hoping he’d not noticed the fact that my leathers had become a lot tighter.

“Okay, I give up boss”. Keys in my hand, I unbuckled the back of the belt, before reaching and unlocking each of the cuffs in turn.

“There ya go. You look warm if you want a drink.”

“Yeah, Coke, Sprite, something? Can I try something else?”

“Knock yourself out, I’ll get drinks.”

Returning to the kitchen, I took two cans of Coke from the fridge. I needed the distraction from my hard on – he looked good enough restrained to rape on sight, and I could feel the moistness of precum inside my leathers. I was getting warm too, so unzipped the leather jacket from my jeans and took it off.

Back in the basement, I handed over a can.

“Thanks – and for letting me try on your kit.”

“Welcome, not often a straight boy gets the chance, ha ha. What else do you want to try?”

“All of it boss” he grinned back. “How about that, that, and that, in there” He pointed at the strap cage, and in the direction of the shelving units.

“Which ones?” directing me to his first selection... “Right, this piece is your pretty much top of the range black leather straightjacket. Custom made for me, basically it’s the same as you’d be strapped into if you were a mental patient, but with more added straps around the sides and front, and made out of padded leather. I should warn you it’s quite a heavy trip. What else?”

Next, he pointed to a heavy duty hood with extra padding. “Okay, so that’s pretty much the heaviest head trip you could have chosen, not sure if it would be too heavy for you.”

“I’ll cope, and you’ll look after me boss” His face was only a few inches from mine.

“Once you’re inside the hood, these straps fasten and you’re completely cut off from the outside world. They can be padlocked too, and your hearing will be restricted… and was there something else you wanted to try at the same time?”

He pointed directly to the heavy metal Carrera max security chastity belt. I’d left the stainless steel butt plug attached. “Well, that’s a serious bit of kit for you to choose. It’s metal, designed to enclose your cock and balls, and locks at the waist front and back, so there’s no playing with yourself even if out of restraint. I can remove the plug if you want to try it on; and you’d have to trust me to remove it…”

“Hoped you might consider training me, boss.” Still close to my face, he looked down giving the impression of looking very subservient. I took hold of the zip on the chest of his leathers, and pulled his face further towards my own. This was partly a test to see his reaction, and if he was serious or not. He leaned forwards more, and our lips touched. It was a passionate, all out kiss, and he’d passed the test. Our tongues intertwined and as we continued kissing my moved my hand down to his ass and pulled it towards my crotch.

“Then if you really want training, the bikes can wait; strip naked and get down on your knees”