Pete waited in the car, just another business meeting, to view the property, nothing more, nothing less. He knew the chances of landing anything were slim, he’d met Mark the previous week to discuss possibilities, but it still seemed a long shot. It’s just another chance to look around and see what it might be worth on the market. Then again, he thought, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and sometimes you just had to take a risk.

After ten minutes of waiting, a text came through to say that all the workers had left, so the coast was clear to look through the workshop and fabrication areas.

Pete strode across the street as ever in industrial areas it was dead quiet post-work, Mark met him at the door. He could see that Mark was in good shape, not tall, only 5’ 9” so Pete was a couple of inches taller than he was, but solid, plainly a guy who spent a fair bit of time in the gym as he’d suggested when he and Pete first met. In fact, this time, he made quite a different impression on Pete as he stood on the top of the steps looking down at him. His jeans were plainly tight, hugging his well-developed and powerful thighs. The tight-fitting shirt and jersey showed off his lean but solid torso, making Pete think about the extra weight he was carrying now and that he ought to spend some more time in the gym.

The first few rooms were simple to look at and take in for Pete, a reception area, couple of offices, staff toilets, a meeting room and finally a room for staff to take breaks in or eat their lunch in. He gave them each a cursory look over an failed to notice that this slightly pissed Mark off, he was proud of this property and business and expected a little more interest to be taken by the guy trying to value it. Mark also looked at Pete from behind, his appraisal the opposite of Pete’s of him. He saw a bigger guy than him, someone who didn’t take care of himself and had let himself go to seed a little. Mark thought it a little pathetic that Pete didn’t care enough about himself to keep in shape,

They then moved into the workshop, and Pete was impressed. It was pristine. For a working area, it was spotless. “Jeepers, you could eat your dinner off the floor. It’s so clean,” he said,

“Well, you have to keep things up to scratch and make sure others keep their standards up, don’t you,” Mark responded.

Pete missed the hint.

As they moved into one of the specialist fabrication areas, Pete could see it was pristine, almost like a laboratory. “This seems on a different level, Mark.”

“It is,” Mark said, “With the level of care we put into this more specialist fabrication, we just can’t afford to have any sparks or minuscule bits of metal get into the atmosphere here, so we can effectively hermetically seal this room, so no air or sound gets in or out.”

Pete’s eyes scanned around the room and looked at the specialist rowing parts on one workbench and then over to three frames on the largest table in the room. What the fuck? He’d seen this sort of frame before.

His gaze stayed on them for a long time. In fact, he was staring at the frames, and Mark was watching avidly, intrigued. As Pete moved closer to the bench, his focus remained completely on the frames. He just had to see if his suspicions were true. Mark was watching him closely, and he’s not even thought about putting the frames away that he’d been working. Even the guys who did the fabrication didn’t have a clue what they were working on. It was only when he put them together and added the various other bits of fixings to them that their real use became clear to those in the know. Somehow, Pete seemed aware of what they really are.

Pete was now standing next to the bench and holding one of the frames. He looked and could see the openings and closures that he expected. Fuck, this was really what he thought it was.

He couldn’t help himself. “Wow, I didn’t realize how diversified you were here,” Pete said.

“So you know what they are then,” Mark said. “Most people wouldn’t have a clue unless, of course, you’re really into the scene.”

A fishing question, Pete thought, but he started this if he needed to back out, he could. Mark thought he wasn’t giving too much away, and it was worth a punt. If he needed to, he could make up some sort of excuse, and he was good at that.

The fact that Mark had referred to the scene relaxed Pete a little, there was only one thing he could be referring to, and that was BDSM, that’s all it could be, and if it was that, then the comment suggested that Mark was into the scene too, so a safe place to talk was Pete’s guess. Now he thought it was worth the risk.

Mark was thinking the self-same thing if Pete answered this in the right way, then they both knew what they were talking about, and it was always nice to meet a kindred spirit and someone you could discuss your passion with. Pete had only found that freedom with a few people over the years, the occasional pro-Domme, and that was about it.

“You must be a real aficionado to recognize it from over there,” Mark said. “So I’m guessing you’ve had more than a few subs locked in one of these over the years, or have you just seen them on the net?”

Pete took a deep breath, this really was dodgy ground, but he’s becoming turned on at just the thought of this piece of equipment. “Mainly seen them on the web,” he said. “But I have seen them close up too.”

Pete didn’t want to give too much away.

Mark thought about it and thought it was worth risking the question. “So, you’re a switch then, rather than a Dom?”

Pete took in another deep breath. Oh fuck it, he thought. “Well, no, not so much…I guess I’m a more of a sub, which is why I’ve seen some bondage items like these close up.”

He waited with his breath held for Mark’s response. Pete was really out on a limb now.

“Well, these really are pretty stunning in terms of how they restrain subs, I’ve worked on the design over the years, and they are as effective as anything I’ve seen on the market. The length of all the arms can be changed really easily to fit any size of sub.”

‘What even bigger subs or are these just for petite girls,” Pete asked.

Pete was doing his own fishing now.

“No, absolutely any size of sub,” Mark said. “For bigger subs, I add a chest board into the central hole so that there is a platform to rest on. Would you like to see it with the collar, cuffs, and restraints on? It’s been designed to look innocuous until the final additions have been made, then there’s no mistaking what it is.”

“I’d love to see it if you have time, Mark.”

‘Hell, yeah, just be good to be able to show them off,” Mark said. “I’m so proud of them, and it’s not something I can usually chat with anyone, especially here as I don’t know any people locally in the scene.”

Mark was just enjoying the chat. He walked over to a padlocked cupboard, opened it, and dragged out a large locked chest from the bottom.

“Give me a hand lifting this onto the bench, will you, Pete.”

Pete held one end, and they lifted it up onto the workbench. Mark then unlocked the padlock and opened it up to a treasure trove of collars and cuffs.

“What do you think?” Mark asked.

“Fuck, they look top quality. Do you make these too?”

“No, I import these. You just can’t make them for the same price,” Mark said. “But the frames need to be way stronger than anything you can buy in from China and have to be precision made to allow for different sub-shapes and sizes. Pass me that collar, the biggest, thickest one will you, and then get the bigger sets of the leg and arm cuffs, two sets of each, and we can get this bad boy set up.”

Pete could hear the excitement in Marks’ voice, and he shared it.

All of a sudden, instead of two businessmen chatting about a property, now it was two people working on their hobby together.

“Use the little padlocks to connect the wrist cuffs to the ends of the arms and then the elbow ones further down at the next joint, then do the neck collar,” Mark said. “I’ll do the leg ones, the leg pads, and the chest pad.”

Mark picked out a leather-covered pad about ten inches square into the bottom of which he fitted a two-inch wide stainless steel rod that rotated and locked into place. The other end of that he put into a circular T-piece on the bottom central rail, and he lifted a pinout to change the position back two places. Pete had locked the cuffs into place and then was fitting the collar onto the top of the bar close to the front of the frame, which rose up at the front and had a curved top for the collar to rest in and locks onto. By now, Mark had all the leg cuffs locked in place.

“See what I mean, it’s a serious setup. Once a sub is in this, they feel as safe as possible,” Mark said with pride.

“Don’t you mean as ‘vulnerable’ as possible?” Pete smiled as he said it.

“I thought that was the same thing to a sub?” now Mark was smiling.

“Touché, you got me there.”

“Feel free to jump up onto the bench and try it out for size.”

It was a risk, but what the hell, Mark thought, sometimes subs just cannot resist.

“You serious?” Now Pete sounded nervous but definitely also interested.

“Sure, I am. Customers say it feels bloody amazing to be in. The last sub said she felt utterly helpless but absolutely safe.”

Would Pete take the bait, would he bite?

“Shit, I don’t know, it’s a bit weird. We only just met, for fuck’s sake,” Pete said.

Pete really was thinking it looked cool, and he’d always enjoyed being in bondage, and this looked such an amazing setup.

“No worries, it’s up to you, but I’d better get this packed away if you don’t fancy trying it out.”

Mark thought the gentle threat of removal of the frame might have an effect.

Pete shook his head, fuck. He wouldn’t get this chance again in a hurry. “Oh, fuck it, alright, I’ll give it a go, it does look cool, but I guess in for a penny in for a pound.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mark said.

Now Mark was getting hard, and he’d always been a bit of a chubby chaser. He loved being in charge of bigger, heavier-set guys, guys who when they were younger might have bullied or controlled a smaller guy like Mark. Pete certainly fitted that bill. The power exchange of a small guy getting a much bigger guy in a helpless position was always a huge turn-on for him, and as for the guy, the bigger, the better.

With Pete, he was getting an ex-rugby player who was solid and now carrying 30 kg more than his playing weight, just as Mark preferred. When he’d first met him, the vague thought of how Pete would look undressed had crossed his mind, but then chatting to him, Mark had figured he was more likely a Dom or even potentially vanilla. His gaydar had been off, this time, that’s for sure.

Pete awkwardly got onto the bench. He rested his chest on the leather pad, his lower legs on the two pads coming out in a V-shape from the back of the stockade. Then Mark opened the collar, and Pete put his neck into it, resting on the short bar that cradled his neck. As Mark fastened the collar tightly, Pete felt the true level of restraint kicking in now. He couldn’t move his upper body at all. Mark then fastened Pete’s elbows and wrists into cuffs, all individually padlocked to the frame, then the same with his upper calves and ankles with the cuffs straight over his jeans. Mark stood back to admire the stockade and then wondered how far he could take this.

“How does it feel to you, Pete?” he asked, just needing the right sign that Pete was getting into this, at least a little bit. That was all the encouragement he craved.

However, Pete was into this more than just a little bit. “Fuck, it’s amazing, it’s complete control, I can’t move anything, this would be amazing in a scene, and I can see endless possibilities. How much do these cost?”

“Two grand with all the additions and a few more I’ve not shown you. Do you want to see those? They’re seriously cool.”

“Sure, you want to let me out first?” Pete wasn’t worried but figured it made sense.

“Well, why don’t I just quickly get them out, and you can have a look from the right point of view, and then you’ll get a real feel for it.”

It was worth a shot, Mark thought.

Pete said nothing, just waiting, as that’s all he could do; the feeling of utter helplessness was getting to him, but in a good way, he was getting very hard in his silky undies and heading closer to the submissive territory.

Mark lifted a hefty piece of machinery onto the bench right in front of Pete’s mouth, and it looked like some sort of heavy machine gun topped with an eight-inch black dildo. It made the whole bench rock as he let it settle. Mark carefully lined the dildo up straight in front of Pete’s face, the tip only three inches away from the man’s mouth. He adjusted the level of the machine so that should it extend the dildo forward, it would go directly into Pete’s mouth. Pete looked straight ahead at this dildo. This view was amazing.

“See how adjustable it is, and now I can lock it in position on the frame so that once it starts, it ain’t moving at all,” Mark said.

Mark locked the back of the fucking machine onto the forward arms of the frame, just as he’d described.

“Just so you get an understanding for how it would look and feel, it’s so cool when it’s all set up, makes quite a sight,” he added.

Mark then lifted a second fucking machine behind Pete and again adjusted it, so it lined up with Pete’s ass, even though he still had his jeans on. This time, just to see if he might get Pete more turned on, he lined the dildo up with the seam of Pete’s jeans, and he raised the angle of the machine. He made sure it pressed directly onto Pete’s jeans, pressing into them just a bit. Just a bit of pressure he thought would do the job. He didn’t want to go too far but figured that Pete would complain if he went too far from his comfort zone.

Instead of complaining, Pete let out a small quiet moan, he just couldn’t help it, it simply slipped out. That was all the evidence Mark needed, he’d never have guessed Pete was a sub until he’d actually admitted it. Now that he had, Mark knew how a sub’s mind works. He just had to press the right buttons one, by one, carefully. That’s what made him a good Dom or possibly a great one.

Beyond Pete’s vision, Mark bit the wrapping of the cap of a fresh bottle of Jungle Juice platinum poppers and cracked the lid. “I’ve got some poppers here if you fancy a quick sniff?” As he said it, he held them just a few inches under Pete’s nostrils, knowing that Pete could still say no if he wanted to.

All he said was, “I really shouldn’t.”

Pete knew this could quickly get out of hand, but then again, it already was getting out of hand, and it felt so good. However, Pete got the very first whiff of the poppers, felt his head get just a little lighter in the way that he truly loved, and once again, he couldn’t really help himself. He breathed in deeply. Mark took the hint and pressed the next button, and he put them directly to one of Pete’s nostrils. Straight away, Pete breathed in, but not in a subtle way, and he breathed in heavily. Mark knew just what to do. He moved the poppers to Pete’s other nostril and closed the first nostril with one of his fingers, and counted out loud to five. Pete obeyed and simply breathed in hard for the full slow count.

“Now, hold it…hold it until I say.”

It was the first real command Mark had issued, but Pete was going along so far, quite compliant indeed. Mark placed the open bottle of poppers on the bench under Pete’s nose.

Mark thought he’d make the most of this opportunity, and he stood back as Pete was getting more desperate for breath and took a few photos of Pete in the stockade with the open poppers facing the camera so clearly identifiable as Jungle Juice. Pete made a pretty picture, even though he was still fully clothed. Even if Pete wanted to back out now, the photo would give Mark some leverage. He was ready for the next stage. He thought, don’t rush it, take your time.

“OK, breathe now, Pete, or should I say ‘boi.’”

Pete breathed in a said, “Whichever name you think is appropriate, Sir.”

He knew how to be respectful to his superiors in this sort of scene, and now he was flying with the poppers, not even considering where this would all end. He didn’t give a fuck, just living for the moment. Mark smiled; this was going so well, far better than he’d thought it would when he’d initially suggested Pete get into the stockade.

“‘Boi’ it is then, let’s see what we have here. Are you happy to continue boi?”

“Yes, sir, I’m happy to continue,” Pete said meekly.

“Now make sure you mean that, once we start, who knows where it will end. Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir, I’m sure, this just feels so good. I want it to continue, please.”

“Good boy, that’s what I thought, let’s just get you some more poppers on board, and then we can get on.”

“Thank you, sir…thank you so much.”

Mark carried out the same process but giving Pete four long sets of poppers, all while he stroked Pete’s back firmly with his other hand. As Pete moaned with pleasure, Mark reached under Pete’s legs and gripped his package through his jeans.

“As I thought boi, small but hard…small but hard…although I’m guessing that those poppers will make your tiny dicklette soft in no time, won’t they?”

Pete felt humiliated but happy. “Yes, sir, they usually do.”

“Well, that’s right for a boi like you, just a small, shriveled clitty dick. Why would you need anything else for what you do? Isn’t that right, boi.”

“Yes, sir, it is. I don’t have a man’s cock, just a little baby dick.”

“Yes, you do,” Mark said, feeling Pete’s tiny dick. “You really do have a baby dick, and you need a proper man’s cocks to show you what a useless sissy bitch you are. Now, before I get dressed more comfortably, I want you to have something to concentrate on while I make some more changes to the setup. Now open wide, slut.”

Pete was flying high and simply did as told as Mark pressed the remote for the dildo at the front, which slowly extended into Pete’s welcoming maw. It was slow but constant, Mark set it to only go a maximum of three inches into Pete’s mouth, and that was only every four strokes. The others were shorter. Mark set it, so it was moving two inches in and out, making sure his mouth always had at least one inch of cock in it, the saliva building up and coating the cock.

“Now that’s better, isn’t it, slut? Doesn’t that feel good?” Mark asked.

Pete just moaned in agreement, as the dildo continued its relentless motion. Mark stood back and took a few video clips, he loved this and realized just how much fun he could have with this guy today. However, much more than that, he’d have a local sissy sub on call whenever he needed or wanted to let off steam. Whenever Mark visited the town, the slut would be there for him to please the Dom just how he liked. This was truly a great day.

He adjusted his cock but still couldn’t get comfortable, so he opened his jeans and flopped his cock and balls out through the zipper. He reached over Pete’s back and under his ample stomach and to his belt and awkwardly undid it, and then undid his zipper. Mark worked quickly, releasing the two knee cuffs and sliding Pete’s jeans and silky undies down and just beyond his knees before he re-fastened and re-locked the knee cuffs over bare flesh.

He stripped off Pete’s boots and socks and then unlocked both ankle cuffs and slipped Pete’s jeans fully off, simply throwing them on the floor. He re-locked the ankles in place out wide on the pads. The whole process only took a couple of minutes, and now, Pete was half-naked. Mark surveyed the big expanse of arse, staring at him, and smiled. Stroking the two orbs one by one and sliding his hand up Pete’s crack, making him shiver.

“Fuck, I do love a big fat slutty butt to torture and use. You certainly fit that bill, don’t you boi.”

Pete just carried on moaning into the dildo, which was constantly fucking his throat.

Mark continued, “Just look at your silky underpants, and if I’m not mistaken,” the Dom paused and roughly pulled Pete’s butt cheeks apart. “Just as I thought, you’re fucking shaved down here, and your ass crack is hairless. Did you do this, especially for me?”

Pete moaned, “No, sir,” as best he could with a mouth full of dildo.

“That’s even worse. That means you did it for yourself, you dirty fucking slut. God, you really are a sub, aren’t you.”

Again, Pete muffled, “Yetttthhh sthhrrrr.”

“Well, now that you’re half-naked, I really think we need you fully stripped.”

With that, Mark reached under Pete’s bulk, telling him to lift slightly up off the chest pad, which Pete just about managed to do. Mark undid the buttons up the front of the shirt, pulling the fronts out to the side, off the chest pad. He then opened the cuffs on each arm, pulled the shirt up and over his back until it bunched on his neck. Releasing one handcuff and an elbow cuff, he slid the arm of the shirt up and off Pete’s arm, refastening and locking the two cuffs before repeating that on his left arm.

Pete, all the while, was simply breathing in the poppers from the open bottle and then accepting the dildo that was ravaging his throat.

Mark lifted up the bottle and held it carefully to the side of the dildo so that Pete could take more. Then he placed the top back on the bottle, and his new sub should have enough poppers for what he had planned. Today was not the end game. It was simply about getting the right leverage for all future sessions. This was just the start, not the end.

Mark cleared the clothes from the table, and he wanted a truly clear picture of Pete being used in the stockade, knowing he’d get some great footage for his website selling the stockade frames. It would help sell some more without giving away Pete’s identity from the side view. However, he’d also get some head-on footage for posting on the internet should Pete fail to become an absolutely attentive slut for him in the future.

The End.

 

*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Just remember, even with the limited editing we do, it doesn’t always mean the flaws in a story are always fixed.