plumbing 1

Author: catdude
Title: plumbing part 1
Date: 16 July 2016

Thursday arvy and the weekend loomed, I was running through some potential ideas to take my mind on the last few hours of work when my phone buzzed, I reached and grabbed it, and watched as my weekend plans went kapoot, “hey bud, know that it is super late notice, having plumbing problems this weekend, really need your help.” I leaned forward until my head thunked on my desk, dammit, my buddy Brad was a great guy, hot, sexy, but demanding as fuck. I had tried to a number of times to hint that I didn’t like the last minute demands he put on me, and on a few occasions I had flat out said no. But the result was always the same, a few weeks of peace and then I would get home to find a bouncing sexy cowboy with a demand that I just couldn’t refuse. I sighed, and replied that I would drive out to his place Saturday afternoon, I figured that way I could at least have a Friday night and maybe a Saturday to myself, the next text however crapped on that plan “no need bud, will pick you up tmmr arvy, save you the drive” uuuurgh, this sucked! He would be in no shape to drive me home after the party so I wouldn’t get home till late Sunday afternoon. I liked it out at Brad’s place, not least because I got to wear my cowboy boots and a pair of old jeans, which I wouldn’t get away with in the city, of course there is a difference between choosing to be somewhere you enjoy yourself and having no choice but to be there.

I spent most of Friday in a foul mood, once I was home I stomped around the house, packing a bag with all the tools I would need to fix Brad’s plumbing issue. Then sat around on my phone enjoying having reception which I wouldn’t have while trapped out at Brad’s place. Around 5 there was a hammering on my door, I sighed, looks like my hopes of him calling to tell me that the plumbing issue had fixed itself where in vain, I opened the door and there was Brad, he worked in the city but spent his weekends on his land out of town, he was always dressed the same, denim bib overalls with nothing under it, dusty cowboy boots and battered Stenson. He was a solid stud of a man, and I took him all in while he came in roaring his greeting to me. I followed him in and offered him a drink, he declined and I grabbed my bag and suggested we get going, he eyed my bag and looked at me, “Sorry Jase but you are gonna need your toolbox for this one.” I dropped my bag and gave him a dirty look, this explained why he was picking me up, I couldn’t get out to his place with my toolbox as well. I opened my mouth to tell him no and to fuck off but he just stood there looking at me with big puppy eyes, 6foot of solid cowboy in denim and boots, my will gave out and I just sighed and shook my head.

I went to the garage where I kept my toolbox, I opened the garage roller door and Brad backed his truck in so we could load it on the back of the tray, he hoped out holding my bag and started to unpack it, I grabbed some tape off the shelves in my garage and tossed them to him when I noticed I hadn’t packed any. I pushed the toolbox over to his truck, it was on wheels to make it easier to handle, Brad had helped me install a hoist in the roof of my garage last year, we would use that to get the box on the back of the truck. I took off my shirt and pants and walked over to Brad who grabbed a roll of tape. “I wish you would find more reliable guys for these things Brad!” I grumbled as he helped me bend my arm back on itself and started to wrap tape around my wrist and shoulder and continued down to my elbow. He finished and then started on the other arm “I know man, I am sorry about this, I will owe you one, but it’s a big party and you know the prep that is needed.” I grumbled more, as I knelt on the matting on the floor and laid back tucking my ankles under my body as he lifted one leg and started to tape my ankle to my thigh. He probably knew that if I had known that I was not only losing my weekend but also going through prep I would have said no. once both my legs where taped back on themselves he laid my rubber gimp suit out beside me. He gently rolled me over on top of it and I squirmed a bit until I had managed to get my bound arms into the rubber sleeves while brad helped lift my folded legs into the suit. I felt the zip closing, knowing that I would not feel fresh air against my skin until late Saturday night or very early Sunday morning. Brad strapped a ball gag in my mouth, knowing that if he didn’t I would be demanding out long before the end of the prep. He opened the front door of the toolbox, and pulled out the bench which he placed beside me, I managed to prop myself up onto my elbows and knees, the padded sections of the gimp suit protecting my joints from too much pressure. I heard Brad chuckle, he loved watching me walk around in my gimp suit. I grumbled through my gag at him and lay down on the bench, he placed a booted foot on my back as he did up the belts attached to the board, one broad one running just above my butt and one just below my shoulders, he used his booted foot to help him pull them nice and tight, I grunted through the gag in discomfort and kept up my tirade of abuse through the gag till he swatted me on the bottom and told me to shut up. Each corner of the board had rings built into it which he connected to the hoist chain and started to lift me up, usually this was how I spent my nights when he needed a place to crash, he had a key to my place and I would get home in the afternoon and find his truck taking up my driveway and knowing that I had a sweaty uncomfortable night of rubber encasement ahead of me. Usually he raised me to crotch height so he could come in and fuck my mouth when he wanted, but for the toolbox he only needed to raise me to knee height, he pushed the toolbox forward to the bench till the bench was resting on the rails inside the box and then put slack on the winch so that he could push the tray in further, once he had the tray half in the box he reached in and undid the chains at the back corners and then pushed the tray all the way in the box.

My toolbox was called such because it was an old crate that Brad had once kept his dildos in. He had padded the inside with foam and then black industrial sheeting over that, the result was a box that was padded really well, the tray was a padded board with the restraint belts attached and the corner rings, it slid along rails set halfway up the sides of the toolbox so that the bench sat in the middle, the top of the padding sat against the back of my head, even if I hadn’t been strapped down to the board, the padding would have prevented me from moving once the board was fully in the box. Brad attached the lid to the front of the box and I heard him clipping it in place. The front lid was padded as well and pushed gently against the top of my head. I was now held in place by the thick padding of the box. Pretty much all sound was muffled and the heat would build fast. I heard the clatter and felt the box sway as he attached the hoist to the top of the box and it was lifted into the back of his truck. Once he had strapped the box in place so I wouldn’t roll around I felt the vibrations of his truck starting. I relaxed my arms and legs so that I wouldn’t cramp up and tried to relax, already I could feel the sweat starting along my back, I figured I could pass the time thinking of how Brad could repay me for this, he knew how much I hated prep for his plumbing.