Recovering Mike’s Car
The early lunch proved interesting, as I had to feed him. In the end we agreed to take a break, though we stayed in our rubber catsuits. During the afternoon, I heard more of his story as we watched the now gently falling snow, and listened to the news.
“What are the chances?” he asked at last. “All my life I’ve hidden my real self, walked this shadow path, and it takes a car crash in a snowstorm, and nearly dying, to find a man who shares everything I love, and better, whose graphic art I’ve been collecting for years!”
“Million to one,” I grinned. “Perhaps a billion to one. Not betting odds I would take.” I hesitated. “You collect my graphic art? Which sort? My ‘for public consumption’ or my ‘special’ art?”
“Both, actually. And while I was chained to the wall in the dungeon,” he kissed me again, “I had an idea. A business proposition if you like.”
“I’m always willing to listen.” I grinned. “But I think it’s my turn to wear that harness …”
He laughed. “If you insist, but I warn you, I’m going to really enjoy my slave’s assets.”
I remembered something. “Oh. Hang on a second. Do you mind if I turn on my image recorders in the dungeon? I use the images as a basis for some of my erotic comic stories.” I watched his face carefully. “You can wear a full hood if you like, or I can just alter your appearance in the comics.”
He hesitated briefly, then grinned. “Why the hell not? Yes, record it. I’ll wear a hood for some of it. Just make sure my face shows in the final product, it’s just what I need to screw my brother-in-law with his threats.”
I laughed. “Okay, we can organize that, and I’ll even put you in a comic story if you like?” It took only a couple of minutes to activate all the recorders in the Dungeon, and set them to auto record our activity. When I’d finished, he was dressed and waiting to fit the harness onto me.
Securing the corset part of the harness on me, he laughed. “Damn, you should have told me you could record when I was being the slave. Now you’ll have to give me another turn at it, with the recorders on!”
Submitting to his restraining my cock and then the plug, I replied as the plug settled inside me. “Yes, Master.”
He was even more creative in his use of me than I could have hoped. I just hoped the recorders missed none of it, taking care to try to position myself, and to steer Mike, into positions I knew would give good camera angles.
The snow stopped falling while we played, but it had piled in drifts outside, and the weather warnings were still in place. Showered, dressed in loose tracksuits, we met in the kitchen as I brewed up some coffee and considered what to offer for supper.
“The snow’s stopped at least. How long do you reckon before we can get to my car?”
“Depends,” I replied. “Looking at how the snow has banked up on the patio it might not be until tomorrow for the snow plough to get here.” Pouring two mugs of coffee I handed him one. “It might be a good idea to check my garage and entrance. We can use my Discovery to get to your car once we can get to the road – and that’s at least passable!”
“Point me to the snow shovel. I can at least do that as a down payment on everything else.”
“We’ll do it together,” I laughed. “I have a small hand plough for this. We often get this sort of storm – hence my being prepared for it.” Taking a seat opposite him, I asked, “What do you fancy for supper? Worked up an appetite?”
He laughed. “Appetite? You could say that – and I’m going to hold you to another session with me as the Sub so you can record it.” He paused. “As to supper, I’m easy, Pete.” Reaching across the table he took my hands. “And I’ll help get it organized if you like.”
I smiled. “I like, but first we better clear that driveway. Come on, this is going to need something a lot warmer than these tracksuits.”
An hour later we’d cleared the drive, and just as we came back inside the lights flickered as the mains power returned. The road beyond was under an impressive four to five feet of snow, in some places deeper. The snow ploughs would be battling to deal with it.
“Great, we can reset the generator.”
“You’re really very well set up here,” Mike remarked watching me check the automatic restart was operational and how much fuel remained.
“If you live off the beaten track and need electric power for everything you do, it pays to be prepared.” I laughed. “I also have solar panels and a water turbine, though that’s shut off during the winter until the feed stream thaws.”
It struck me as we made our way upstairs again, that we had become amazingly familiar in a very short time. It was almost as if we’d known one another for years. He was a comfortable presence, and not just in my bed or in our games. He anticipated me.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable with anyone. We’re so alike in our tastes, our fun,” he grinned, squeezing my butt, “that we just seem to have clicked into place. I feel I’ve known you all my life …” He turned to face me, reaching for my hands. “To be honest, I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay here, stay in your company …”
“Funny you should say that,” I smiled, pulling him into an embrace. “But I was just thinking the same thing!” Our mouths met in a long and loving kiss.
We were startled out of the kiss and the embrace by the doorbell!
“What the hell?” I said. “Damn. I better see who it is. Put the kettle on and dig some rolls out of the freezer. Fresh rolls and maybe egg mayo or tuna mayo fillings?”
“You got it.”
The doorbell chimed again as I opened the door to the stairs. “One day I’m going to install an intercom …”
A policeman stood on the doorstep. “Hello, Mr Wilson, I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I’m looking for a Mr Parker. He reported an accident from your phone a couple of days ago.”
“Better come in then, Reg. He’s upstairs making us some supper – we’ve just cleared the drive as you can see.”
“Thanks. I won’t keep him long, just need to check a few details.”
“No problem. Some coffee? How’d you get here? I haven’t seen the snow plough yet.”
He laughed. “Borrowed a set of cross country skis!”
“Ah.” I led the way upstairs. “Mike, this is Reg, our local policeman. He has a few details to go over with you.” I poured a mug of coffee. “Want a roll with that, Reg?”
“Thanks, I won’t say no,” the constable grinned. “This skiing malarkey gives you quite a workout. I’m glad it’s all downhill back to town!”
While I fixed a roll for him, Mike handed over all his papers, ownership, insurance card, licence. “Anything else you need, Constable?”
Checking all the information, Reg smiled, “Not a thing, sir.”
Curious, I asked, “Surely you could have asked us to bring this down to the station, Reg?”
He looked uncomfortable. “I could, Mr W, but a car matching this make and model and with the same registration number was reported stolen from Bankhill by a Ms Mansell.” He made a face. “I had to check.”
Mike nodded. “My sister, trying to get her own back.” He hesitated. “For the record, her husband has been robbing my company for a couple of years now. I confronted them and my crooked lawyer, who has been aiding and abetting them, with the evidence, and I’ve filed charges. As soon as we can get to my wrecked car, I can recover the evidence in my briefcase.”
“All I need is the case number for the charges you brought, sir. That’ll be enough.”
“Of course. If Pete here will let me use his computer I can get into my emails and get that for you.”
“Feel free, Mike. Use the desktop in the corner of my studio, it’s the only one I have directly connected to the internet.” Turning to Reg, I said, “It sounds like I’d better get him to his car as soon as possible – in case his sister has other ideas about making life tricky for him.”
“Might be best, Mr W. I could come with you if you like? Have you still got that old snow plough you had for the tractor?”
“Damn. Never thought of it. Yes, I have, and it’ll fit the Discovery.”
The car was a mess. Even in the darkness the damage was evident. It lay on its side, only the hedge preventing it from going right over. Between us we managed to retrieve the small bag from the boot, another larger bag Mike said contained a sample wetsuit, and his briefcase. Reg, being smaller and younger than either of us, managed to get inside the car through the broken out rear screen, and searched, retrieving a number of things, including Mike’s mobile phone using my portable lead light from the Discovery.
“You were bloody lucky, Mr Parker,” he said, easing himself out of the window. “This how you got out?
“Yes. Had to break my way out. Lucky I wasn’t going very fast. It was snowing so hard I could barely see, and this curve is deceptive. Is there someone local I can contact to recover it?” He patted a tyre. “Pity, it was a damn nice car. A real treat to drive.” Frowning he paused. “Funny though, the last couple of miles it was getting really stiff on the steering. Might have been ice forming in something I suppose.”
“Yes, there’s Brin in town. He’ll need his heavy truck to get it out, and probably the low bed.” Reg shrugged. “I could call him for you, but then the Force would have to charge for the service – and our bosses know how to add to what Brin charges alright.” He glanced at me. “You have Brin’s number, Mr W?”
“I do, Reg. I’ll help Mike sort that out. Now, if you’ve both got everything, I need something warm inside me again.”
“If you take me back to your place, Mr W, I can get back to town on the skis.” The constable grinned. “Do me some good at any rate.”
Mike laughed. “If there’s anything else comes up, you know where to find me. I’ll have to contact my office tomorrow, and arrange a hire car or something to get back to Barr’s Harbour, but …”
