Thursday, June 17, 2010

A New Saga Begins,-- SirTom Enterprises

For all you picture lovers, sorry to disappoint. But here's the novella that started it all.....LOL

SirTom Enterprises, Part I

My partner, Geo, and I were having a hard time making ends meet. We’d overextended ourselves with too large a mortgage on a great loft, and with the real estate market being so bad we were having no luck selling so we could down-size. We’d sold a bunch of junk on e-bay which carried us for a couple of months, but now we were having to cash out some retirement accounts and we could see that even that wasn’t going to last forever.

Over dinner we talked through our options. It was not a happy meal. Both of us were working, and neither of us cherished the idea of a second job. As the meal progressed the subject of our various leather and rubber gear came up.

Now don’t get me wrong, our relationship of 25 years was a great one. I wouldn’t trade our closeness for anything; it’s just our relationship was not very sex-filled. I’m a gear nut, always have been, and he’s more the suck and fuck type. He participated occasionally in my bondage, rubber, and leather fetishes but, truth be told, his heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t care if I had an orgasm during our encounters–just lock me up in something and leave me to explore the head space. Twist my tits occasionally, send a little electricity through my butt or balls and I was a really happy camper.

The last five years we’ve drifted sexually, him to his little fuck buddies and booty calls, me to an occasional leather/rubber/bondage scene or play party. Reality was, the gear was mostly gathering dust and with probably $15,000 invested in it, we could maybe hope to recover about half that if we sold it off. That would certainly pay a lot of bills for the next six months, during which time we hoped the real estate market might turn around a bit.

I agreed that selling seemed a better option than food stamps, foreclosures, and bankruptcy so after dinner I headed for the computer to compose an ad while he did the dishes.

Serious inquiries only. No "tourists", no exceptions. Large collection of leather and rubber items including: six straitjackets (canvas, rubber, leather, all with tit access); six sleepsacks (leather, rubber, darlon) suspension capable, leather sling, 8 different hoods and muzzles, large collection of whips and floggers, 4 rubber catsuits, 2 rubber podsuits, 2 wetsuits, 2 gimpsuits, gasmasks, gags, blindfolds, collars, cuffs, bondage chair, spanking bench, St. Andrew's Cross, barber chair, electrical equipment, and many other devious items available. All straitjackets, sleepsacks, and catsuits come in both L and XL All designed for men. Also have a good deal of fetish clothing for sale in both latex/rubber and leather, again almost all items either L or XL. Most gear has come from Mr. S, Invincible Rubber, HOST, and other very reputable sellers.
Prefer to sell as a lot, but understand if persons interested in only one or two items. Email through Craiglist only, see above. Pictures available upon request.

I posted the ad that night, went to bed a little misty-eyed at the thought of having to sell all my gear and equipment. I never dreamed that the next morning I’d have 22 e-mails asking for further information, pics, and prices. I weeded through them, deleting most (“what is a gimpsuit”–something you probably need to be locked in....) (“you sick fuck”–I wondered what they were doing even reading the ad.....) (“I’ll give you $300 for all of it”–yeah right....).

One reply stood out: “I’d be very interested in seeing and probably purchasing all of your equipment provided it is in good condition. I recently moved to the city and have been looking for a possibility of purchasing just such items for my future needs. Just adding up what you’ve listed I can tell you’ve probably got a minimum of $12,000 and probably more invested and I presume you’d want at least 50% of that price to sell it all. I believe, provided all items are in good condition, that we can work out some sort of agreement. Please contact me at:”

SHIT! I was really hoping there would be no serious responses. I wanted to delete this one so I could just tell Geo that nobody serious had inquired. The bills on the dining room table told me this wouldn’t be a good lie to tell. So I let Geo know about the really good response I’d gotten, especially from one guy. We agreed that selling piecemeal might get a bit more money (I had a couple of decent e-mails from guys who wanted to see the leather clothing); we also didn’t want a whole bunch of guys tromping through our place to look at stuff over the next couple of weeks. I agreed to reply to the e-mail and set up an appointment for him to come look at all the stuff......SIGH.

I sent an e-mail that afternoon: “Received your e-mail; would like to set up an appointment for you to see the equipment at your earliest convenience. My name is Alan and I appreciated your honesty about the cost of the gear which is why I’ve contacted no one else at this point. Please call me at XXX-XXX-XXXX. I look forward to your response.” I fired off the e-mail.

Early evening I checked my e-mail and waded through another 14 stupid and almost hateful responses to the ad. I decided to pull the ad for now. I could always post it another time if the transaction fell through. Still no call, but I wasn’t going to panic.

I had the next three days off while Geo was working some double shifts making up for some time he had lost when he had the flu. As a CPA for several local restaurants he luckily had some flexibility in his scheduling, but he was way behind on a couple of major accounts. Early the morning of my first day off the phone rang–no caller ID, but I picked up. “Alan here.”

“Alan, this is SirTom. You e-mailed me your phone number, yes?”

“YES! I’m so glad you called. Are you really interested in seeing and purchasing all of the gear I had listed”

“Absolutely, Alan. I do think we should at least get together and see if we can work anything out. Do you mind if I come over so we can meet, I can see your gear, and we can talk about prices?”

“Sounds great, although I have to do some thinking about the ‘financing’ concept as my partner and I haven’t really had a chance to talk about it.”

“Excellent, Alan! Let's meet at one, draw up a full inventory, and discuss some numbers.”

I couldn’t argue with that I gave him the address and entry code to the building. Our loft was on the top floor, so I also gave him the elevator code and told him to come on up when he got here. I rushed around picking some of the mess up and then opened the closet where most of the fetish clothing was hanging. I pulled out the plastic tubs and tubs and tubs of all the other gear. I got so horny just smelling all the shit. One by one I laid out all the items–the bed was covered, the dining room table, the kitchen counter, you name a flat surface and I can tell you what items were on it.

Suddenly I got a little afraid that all this stuff might walk out the door this afternoon with SirTom (he had called himself that, yes? A good sign, I guess, that he was a serious player.) I looked through the closet and decided I needed to put a few things on, just one more time. Maybe modeling a piece or two would help increase the price, I thought. Besides a little shine on some of the rubber items would certainly not hurt.

I picked out the full catsuit (extra-large for me, all the large items for my partner) with the medium rise neck, attached gloves and feet, penis sheath, butt-access zip, and the two perfect cut-out circles in the chest for my pierced nips to poke through. I pulled it on carefully, choosing talcum powder over lube, zipped up the back, looked in the mirror and realized a really good shine was needed. Getting a cloth and the Black Knight rubber shine I went to work polishing the suit to a high gloss. Looking back in the closet I caressed each item wanting to pick the perfect piece to go on next. I decided I wanted to meet SirTom more on his level than as a subordinate so pulled out the full latex officer’s uniform with intense blue shirt, tight breeches, Sam Browne belt, and knee high boots. I carefully put on each item, placed a rubber tie tightly around my collar, and selected the full rubber policeman’s cap to finish off the effect.

I took a look in the mirror. Even I had to admire how I looked–and I’m not the kind of guy who does that on a regular basis. Let’s get this straight–I’m a good 20 pounds overweight, I’ve always been 20 pounds overweight, and I’m fucking tired of apologizing for being 20 pounds overweight, hence the extra-large gear. I also don’t have a 15 inch penis, and by god, I’m hairy. Hairy everywhere, that is, except my head. What a joke the gay gods played on me. Enough hair on my chest, back, butt, arms, and legs to more than cover my head, but not a fucking hair left on the top of my head. So I shaved the head, and shampooed the body. What the fuck. The funny thing was as much as I hated mirrors I kept looking at myself, turning, looking over my shoulder, looking for places that needed a little extra shining. I so loved those fucking breeches. They could even make my ass look good! My dick was good and hard by this point and I tugged at it. Those breeches, tailored for me, even made my dick look pretty damn big!

While I was in my moment of self-admiration there was a knock at the door. Shit! Was he here already?! I went to the door, tugged at my penis to make sure it was comfortable under two layers of tight latex, and opened the door. I almost crawled through a hole in the floor when I saw who was on the other side.

I had expected a big guy and somebody, I guess, that you’d see in a leather bar, or Instigator magazine, or working out at the gym, or straight out of Tom of Finland. Hell, I’d expected just about anybody but the guy who stood there. What was this? A banker? A lawyer? I almost slammed the door shut from embarrassment.



“SirTom, yes.”

I held the door open and he entered. He was barely 5 foot 6 inches and for lack of a better word, petite. He was meticulously dressed in what had to be a custom-tailored black wool suit. A black silk shirt, a black silk tie, gold cufflinks, patent leather shoes, and a tiny black silk pocket handkerchief completed his attire. His hair was cut in a very modest businessman’s cut, clearly trimmed in the last day or two. His eyes were blue, stunningly sharp and clear.

“It is indeed an honor to meet you, Alan. I was so pleased to see your advertisement on CraigsList. And by the outfit you’ve chosen to wear for our first meeting I can tell you were not exaggerating in that listing.” He walked further into the loft. I was still stunned from opening the door to this tiny man and just watched as he looked around. First meeting? What did he mean by that? It was odd. He seemed more to be looking at the space, rather than gear that was laid out everywhere.

“You have a lovely place here. Wide, open, exposed beams and bricks, the lighting is superb, and the nearly private entrance make it very suitable. And these high ceilings are amazing.” He eyed the four eyebolts in the ceiling off to one corner. “I suppose that is where the sling typically hangs? And is that an electric suspension hoist on the beam directly above us? Excellent!”

I mumbled a thank you.

“And you mentioned your partner. Is that the reason for both large and extra-large items? Too bad he isn’t here so we could have all the items modeled. Maybe another time.”

“Actually he’s at work today. A double-shift, so I guess we’ll have to forge ahead without him. Honestly, he doesn’t really get into all this like I do, so the large items are barely used at all.”

I guess we were just chit-chatting before we started to haggle over all my gear. I still wondered why he would be interested in all my stuff, unless he was buying for a boy or slave of his own. None of it was going to come close to fitting him. I shrugged. It takes all kinds......

He walked over to me, gazing at me with those crystal blue eyes. He walked right up to me and touched my shirt, his hands slowly crossing my pierced nipples that poked through the catsuit and strained against the shirt fabric, caressed my ass, tugged and straightened my tie. His groin was nearly touching mine; his hypnotic eyes never left mine. I was melting inside all that rubber. “This is a beautiful uniform, Alan. It fits you wonderfully. But it isn’t really you, is it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You really prefer much of the other gear here, don’t you, Alan. Suppose I take a look at it and see what might be more appropriate for you to model. Hopefully all of it fits you as nicely as this does. It will certainly help me in my decision-making process. After all, I won’t be able to purchase anything until I can verify that it is absolutely perfect, so let’s begin the modeling process, shall we? Please remove the uniform while I look over your items. I would prefer, however you leave that catsuit on.”

How did he know that? I guess the high neck was poking out above the police shirt. And of course there were the attached gloves. I thought, what the hell. He certainly looked like he had money to buy all the stuff, and he was right–looking over the items for holes or tears would be a lot easier if they were on a person rather than a hanger. If this was what he needed I was game for it; actually I was downright horny for it. I removed the boots, breeches, tie and shirt and was hanging them up when he returned from my bedroom closet. My dick was still fairly aroused inside the penis sheath. My nipples were poking obscenely from the small circles in the chest of the suit. But there was really nothing I could do to hide either of them at this point. I turned around.

He was holding my absolutely favorite straitjacket. It was made completely from rubber with attached chastity shorts and attached hood/gasmask. There was a built-in inflatable gag inside the hood and an attachment for a butt plug inside the shorts. There was also an adaptor for the butt plug so an electrified metal plug could be used instead of a standard rubber one. Also attached at the neck was a locking posture collar. The entire suit was made of the thickest black rubber possible, with yellow belting criss-crossing the piece. Small flaps were cut in the chest to give a top access to the wearer’s tits. Heavily padded yellow belting also went through the crotch and had D rings attached at the shoulder to allow for suspension. This piece had been custom made for me and I had spent a fortune on it. My goal when I bought it was to be in it every day. My lover had put me in it a grand total of twice for about 30 minutes each time. I’d never even had a chance to test the suspension part of the suit. Geo just didn’t get it.

“Look, I’m really sorry but that is one of the few pieces I’m not sure I want to sell.”

“Well, Alan, I can certainly understand that. This is a stunning piece. I’ve never seen one quite like it. I’m sure it would be very expensive if you did decide to sell it. Tell you what. Let’s put it on you so I can appraise the piece and at least have an idea how much I’m willing to spend should you change your mind later. Hmmm?”

Damn he was good! Liquid persuasion disguised as pure gentleman. “I appreciate your understanding. And I think you’re right. I may end up needing to sell it. What the hell, Tom. Let’s do it.”

“SirTom. Not Sir, not Tom, SirTom”

“I’m sorry. SirTom”

“That’s better, Alan. I’ve earned the title so I expect to hear it each time someone addresses me. You understand, of course.”

“Of course, SirTom.”

“Thank you, Alan. That’s very good.”

He held the suit out for me to step into. Now let me be clear. This is no easy task. The thickness of the rubber required painstaking effort for me to get into. The chastity pouch had been built from heavy molded rubber based on a mold of my soft dick and stretched balls. Just getting into the shorts was a struggle, but once my dick and balls were in place the front pouch was closed around them and he produced a small lock and locked the pouch shut.

“Do you mind if we also test the electrical buttplug with this item? If this feature is working it will certainly enhance the price, but if not I hate to guess how much it might cost to fix.”

“Sure, why not?” He glanced at me. “SirTom” I added hastily. “The plug is on the kitchen counter as is some lube, and the Eros Tek should also be there on the dining room table, SirTom.”

He returned with items in hand and proceeded to screw the chrome buttplug to the back seat of the shorts. He squeezed lube into my hand and turned away, certain that I knew how to insert the plug on my own. I unzipped the back entry of the catsuit and leaned over and liberally lubricated my ass; it took a little work to get the plug in as it had been way too long since it had been there, but once it popped in place I felt my dick give a little surge in its tight packing. I stood back up and realized that SirTom was already behind me. Quickly he helped guide my arms into the sleeves and lifted the hood/gasmask over my head. I opened my mouth and the uninflated gag went in. A long zipper ran from just above the buttplug to the crown of my head and he slowly pulled it up, tugging the jacket tight to get the zipper to close. At the top of my head he added a small padlock to the zipper. Where was he getting all these padlocks, I wondered. Where the key was probably the question I should have been asking!

Again, with amazing nimbleness, he began the process of confining me to the jacket. Belt after belt was tightened. He seemed to know where each belt belonged and while none were too tight, I knew I was completely secured in that suit. When the torso was completely tight on me, he crossed my arms in front of me, pulling the straps through restraining loops on my sides, then buckled the long straps behind me. The last piece he buckled tightly was the attached posture collar. Its width was huge and forced my chin extremely high. I couldn’t move my head an inch in any direction. Another small padlock was added to the posture collar, the "click" echoing in my ears. He stepped around to the front of me and slowly looked me over. I could just barely see through the eyepieces of the gasmask, but I could tell he was pleased. I was in hog-heaven.

“Yes, Alan. This is a superb piece. Now it seems to me those D rings on the shoulders are firmly attached to the strapping and should serve well in suspending you in the suit. Shall we test that out? Suppose you show me where the controls are for that suspension hoist up there, eh?”

I nodded to the wall as best I could. “Ah, yes. Excellent. Just a quick test to make sure the strapping can handle all the weight.” He pushed the switch to lower the hoist and down it came to my shoulder height. Some heavy hooks went through the shoulder D rings and attached to the bar dangling from the hoist. Back to the switch he went and lifted me until I was standing on tiptoes. I thought the test was over, but SirTom had further plans.

He placed the Eros Tek on the table next to me and attached the extra long leads. He turned the machine on and slowly dialed it higher. I felt the tingle in my ass and moaned.

“Yes, yes, excellent. I am so glad that feature is in working condition. Now, one or two more adjustments and we’ll see just how good this suit is.” Coming around behind me he tightened every single belt another notch. Where I had been comfortably snug in the jacket up until now, the tightening filled me with a sense of panic. Back to the Eros Tek he went and dialed the juice up another notch. This produced a very loud yelp from me!

“Now, now. We can’t have that, can we?” Around to the front of the suit he came where he picked up the pump bulb and quickly inflated the gag inside my mouth, then off to the wall where he hit the switch to raise me off the ground. Higher and higher I went. I was a little panicked but I knew he’d bring me down when he saw that the suit had performed wonderfully in every single feature. I figured I could get maybe 80% of my cost out of it after he had seen how perfect the suit was.

“Alan, this is nearly perfect. Thank you so much for letting me see you in that suit. Now just one more thing.” He lowered me but stopped just short of my feet touching the ground. Rubber cuffs were added to my ankles and a chain was attached. This chain was lifted to the hoist and I found myself looking down at the floor. Again I was lifted higher and higher. The floor had to be 6 or 8 feet below me. Back to the table he went and dialed up the electricity to absolute pain levels. I knew that the setting was on “orgasmic” and my butt was pulsing to each wave of stimuli. My legs were thrashing in the air and my groans were echoing inside my head.

SirTom sat directly below me, smiling.

“Now, then. I think you and I need to have a serious talk.”

No comments:

Post a Comment