Mitchell's Roofers

Based on the AI-images of 'dures annees'

 

Part of my series of collected images which visualise a world where men have to wear short shorts whatever their age or job. 

 

The Roofing Profession comes under the spotlight here. 

 They suffer the inevitable consequences.

Some, but not all, of these images have been published at 'X' 

 

Roofers - 1

Being in the public eye was uncomfortable for some.

 

Roofers - 2

 

Others made the best of it.

 

Roofers - 3

Not everyone was free to make their own choices.

 

 

Roofers - 4

 

Roofers - 5

Roofers - 6

C'est la vie!

Mitchell - Soldiers, shorts and sexiness

Mitchell - Builder Press-Ganged

A construction site workman is arrested by a Military Policeman after a struggle that has resulted in most of his clothes being ripped off. Interestingly, the cop is tying his hands with rope rather than clapping handcuffs on him. The workman does not seem to find his predicament very worrying, on the contrary, he's positively excited by it*. Perhaps he does not realise that he has been selected for conscription into the expanding British Army and a taste of military discipline is coming his way. The MP's choice was not entirely random, of course, he could not resist the hunky man doing manual work in tight white vest and jeans. Predictably, the Policeman's own shorts are somewhat briefer and tighter than normal military issue, but who wants normal?

 *Unlike some parts of the world, British people find Military personnel a lot less threatening than civilian police. 

~ 

 This picture has many connections which date it (rather damningly from my point of view!). The central figure with the ripped vest was inspired by a 'Zipper #31' beefcake model called 'Giano', I think. He posed on a board looking very wet, but I can't find him in my back files for the moment (and thanks to Google's latest 'improvements' to its search engine, it's now disappeared off the face of the earth, until such time as a copy pops up for sale on e-bay). Any offers of help to find him?

Mike Arlen - Military Arrest

The Military Policeman (and to some extent the whole image) was inspired by Mike Arlen's photo-series about an MP arresting a suspected Arab insurgent and being seduced by him (above). 

Arlen's work in this genre and the military shorts, link back in turn to the Royale Studio military imagery of the 50s/60s.

~ 

For more pictures by Mitchell at this blog, click on the 'mitchpix' label below 

Dr Smith 2 - Mike the Construction Worker

Dr Smith has some strange obsessions with manipulating his patients (see Part 1) 
His encounter with Mike the Construction Worker is one of the most sinister - and memorable.

1

Mike is taken to Dr Smith's clinic by his site Foreman, after falling from a girder into a sandpit.

He tells the Doctor that he's hurt his abdomen and his knee is a painful as f**k. 

 

2

 

Dr Smith immediately gives him a powerful painkiller. 

So powerful, in fact, that Mike quickly becomes sleepy and groggy.

 

 

3

 Smith tells him to take off his clothes, but he's unable to get any further than his helmet. 

"I'll help you", Smith says, and picks up a pair of scissors.

 

 

4

 

Cut open from top to bottom, Mike's T-shirt falls from his shoulders.

Smith hastily clears it away, holding on to Mike, so his sedated state doesn't make him fall.

 

 

5

Smith is seduced by Mike's enticing torso and sweaty workman's odours.

He sniffs his shoulders and runs his hands over his contours in a sensuous examination.

Mike is 90% out of it and doesn't realise it's not quite professional.

 

 

6

 

Eager for more, Smith tells Mike to take off his jeans, 

ostensibly so he can examine his injured knee. 

Mike tries to comply, but he doesn't get far before he swoons again.

 

 

7

 

Smith gently lays him flat on the examination table and jiggles his jeans down.

Then he roughly jerks off them off his legs and casts them aside.

 

 

8

Mike's underpants are very workmanlike - well-used and dirty, but Smith is undeterred.

Eagerly, he sides his hand up between Mike's thighs - as high as he can dare.

 

 

9

But when he tries to slide his palm inside the waistband,

Mike comes to and, smelling a rat, insists the Doctor attends to his knee. 

 

10

Aware that Mike's Foreman is waiting for him outside, the Doctor complies.

He promises to call in at Mike's house in a day or two to see how he is recovering.

It's a special favour for him.

 

 

11

Mike goes home to rest his body, relax and get better.

It's hot, sweaty weather, so he strips down to keep cool. 

 

12

 

 True to his word, the Doctor turns up on his doorstep a few days later.

He explains he was just passing and asks if he can come in.

 

 

13

The Doctor is touchy-feely as Mike explains that he still has some pain.

Smith encourages him to take his shorts off so he can examine his knee (que?)

 

 

14

Mike kicks off his shorts and obediently sits on the settee. 

But once his back is turned, the Doctor attacks him with a chloroform pad.

(Note interesting foreground juxtaposition)

 

 

15

Mike resists strongly and succeeds in making a grab for his phone at one point.

But the Doctor comes back at him and eventually has the handsome hunk 'out for the count'.

Now, at last, he's completely at his mercy.

 

Continued in Part 2

 ~

See the plot storybook and video link for Mike sees Dr Smith at Film 911

Read Part 1 of this series about Dr Smith

Mercenary Nick - Part 2

Start reading at Part 1

 

Day 4

8

After a night of humiliation at the hands of the Guards, I had to face my torturers the next day clad only in underpants. Even they were not my own clothes, for my guards had either destroyed, or taken for souvenirs, every item of clothing that I had on. As a sop to my modesty, they gave me a pair of underpants taken from another prisoner. He had no further need of them, they said and out of spite, they told me his name. It was one of my comrades who had disappeared some 3 months earlier, while on the same mission as myself. I was trained not to react to barbs like this or dwell on the truth of them, but the symbolism of losing the last of my possessions did hit me hard. 

I felt like I had been condemned to extinction.

Having been suspended by my wrists during those long, cruel hours of darkness, it was a perverse pleasure to be taken down and spread-eagled on an X-cross instead. I was still tied up and defenceless, but able to stand on my feet again. It was obvious that this restraint would enable the interrogator to attack all parts of my body, if I continued to deny him the information that he wanted. However, he surprised me by producing, not some ferocious flesh destroyer, but an incongruous, small batten of wood. It looked like it was fresh from a DIY shop, an unwelcome reminder of the normal world that was carrying on outside the walls of my prison, oblivious of my plight. 

The Interrogator complimented me on my physique, running his hands over my abs and acknowledging that I had been well-trained. Then he proceeded to apply his stick to my torso, landing vicious blows on it from all angles. That batten might have been small, but by heavens it stung! As time went by, the cumulative effect of hundreds of blows from it, switching between the flat sides and the sharper edges, generated a fiery furnace of pain all over my body. He beat me with it patiently, conserving his energy, so my agony might last as long as possible.

 

 

9

After a while he stopped, looked at my bruised body and sighed, as if in regret. Then he went to his bench and returned with a second batten. He used them simultaneously to beat both sides of my body. The effect of the wood smacking my abs had dulled by them, but when he switched to my ribs, the pain was excruciating. I'm ashamed to say that I gasped, quite loudly. My torturer smiled, then hit me again. I managed better control of my responses the second time, but it was difficult. My struggle to remain silent was obvious. That made him smile again, for it was a sign, a small one, that I was losing, and he was winning. We both knew that, and I trembled inside. 

Before he left to take his lunch, he signed off with the battens by rasping their rough cut edges across my body like a saw. My bruised skin was repeatedly pricked and punctured by splinters, with many of them breaking off and sticking in me. He was playing a childish game, but left me with widespread soreness that returned every time I stretched to relieve the stress of the prolonged restraint.

After he had gone, to my surprise, the Guards took me down and gave me a small but nourishing meal. I ate it appreciatively, imagining that someone, at least, wanted to keep me alive. But for what? As soon as I had finished, they tied me up again.

 

10

When the torturer returned, the games continued. It was clear he was beginning to enjoy the task of wearing me down, waiting for me to crack. He was relying on time and repeated attacks to persuade me, rather than extreme wounding. This time he took up a wooden paddle with which to torment me. 

I'd experienced the paddle before. It looks slightly comical, but its flat surface produces a wider spread of pain. The holes in it ensure that air making way for its delivery do not impair the impact. It is most effective on large muscle groups and so is widely used for buttock spanking. Naturally, my Trainers hadn't spared me that experience and humiliation, although they claimed to think it beneath them. I wasn't convinced about that after experiencing their efforts, but my torturer seemed to share their view, he made no move to turn me round to feel its sting on my behind. Instead, he applied it to my pecs and thighs, two areas which had largely escaped his attention in the morning.  

Vast new areas of fiery pain erupted to torment me.

 

11

 It was a long, long day and it left me raw, bruised and physically exhausted. My borrowed underpants were sopping wet from profuse perspiration, but thankfully, the relatively low level of brutality had spared me the humiliation of losing all control of my organs. I was glad it was over, but, tomorrow would be another day of torment and before that, I faced another night at the mercy of the Guards.

 

 Day 5

 

 

12

 

My Guards must have lost interest in me that night, for I slept right through. There had been visitors, I could tell, for when I awoke, my underwear was round my ankles and there were deposits on my skin. But I hadn't been treated badly enough to wake me up. Perhaps some other unfortunate soul had claimed the attention of the brutalisers. 

 

As usual, the Guards took me straight from my cell to the interrogation room after I had eaten. This time, however, instead of tying me to the cross or a post, they simply shackled my ankles, tethered my wrists to a dangling chain and left me standing in the middle of the room. I stood like that for about an hour, puzzling over this turn of events. Had something happened? Was my torture ended?

 

These foolish thoughts were immediately extinguished when my tormentor returned to resume his painstaking exploration of my inner reserves. To my horror, he was brandishing a bull-whip which made the reason for the changed restraints perfectly clear - he was going to work all over my body and wanted no obstacles to impair his lashes. The ploy of keeping me waiting had softened me up nicely, for I immediately began to tremble with fear. He gleefully used the stock of the whip to lift my chin and make his usual request, was I going to talk?

 

13

 

It took all my courage to refuse once again. 

Seconds later, the whip fell across my body and all the previous bruises re-erupted.

It was just the start of a slow-paced barrage of lashes that spared no part of my body. 

14

 

Before long, I was on my knees blubbering. 

But I had the strength to refuse to give in and tell them what I knew.

 

15

 

My reward was a barrage of kicking and whiplashes which sent me sprawling. 

I lost consciousness.

 

16

 

I can recall very little of what happened after that. I woke up in a primitive, wooden shack with 3 other prisoners. They nursed me back to some semblance of health, until my captors decided I was fit to work in the quarry, which was just outside our hut. This is the place I now call home.

As soon as I was able, I searched for my missing comrade, the man whose underpants I still wore, but I did not find him, only more strangers, most of whom did not speak my language. As I became better acquainted with my new companions, I was able to join in their secret, nightly intimacies, which were unexpectedly tender and comforting. Necessarily so, because of the patrolling guards who might otherwise hear us. 

In reality, though, my only real bond with them is our experience of the Orange Room, of which none of us ever speak. Whether I broke and talked or kept my silence until they gave up trying, I cannot say. It doesn't matter, because I know for sure that my mission ended in failure. It gives me no comfort to have escaped death when my other comrades may well have perished, for I have still paid a terrible price for my failure.

 

17

It's hard work, breaking the stones and carrying them to the collection point where the lorries come to pick them up. I soon discovered that slackers quickly feel the whip, and that invoked such terrible memories for me that I take care not to provoke the overseers if I can help it.

I think about escaping sometimes, but the fire in my belly has gone out. The fear of more, remorseless punishment has finally quenched my spirit. My comrades seem to feel the same, although none of us talk of our past lives or what we endured to get to here. I am one of the lucky ones, supposedly. 

So I wield my sledgehammer and count the hours 'til the next meal, which is usually quite nourishing and designed to keep us alive and working. The alternative would be starvation rations until we die. 

I'm not sure which is the worse fate of the two. 

 ~

Imagery for this story is from 'Mercenary Nick' at Real Chained Heroes.

The star is 'Robert' flaunting his fabulous physique. 

Go to Part 1

 

Beautifully Bound - Guy

A man with arms and wrists firmly bound sits on a stool.

His head is bowed as if in despair as he awaits his fate.

A day ago he was a free man, working on a building construction site.

The captive turns as someone approaches, 

his face is a mixture of anger and helpless anguish.

He strains at the rope that binds him.

His pecs bulge out through the strands constricting his chest.

Such spirit is greatly appreciated.

He probably does not appreciate his captor's flair for bondage

It is both artistic and satisfying - and materially enhances

 the monetary value of his unique selling points.

His whining complaints are silenced with  a stuffed rag.

While the bidders assess his finely muscled body.

There's no need to remove his jeans for the auction.

Someone will pay handsomely to have this man as he is.

Those pecs are irresistible.

A small chastisement is called for.

A demonstration for the bidders.

The results are gratifying.

Stoic endurance of pain is an admirable quality

But expressive responders usually fetch better prices.

The personal touch cannot be bettered in such matters.

And for this man there is more to come..... much more.

~

Pictures of Guy by the legendary Captured Guys site

(pay site, some free samples, about £13 pm)

There's also lots of samples at Captured Guys on Deviant

see also Captured Guy

For more beautifully bound men at mitchmen blog click on the label below

101 Uses For A Belt - No 11 Crotch Enhancer

 

A workman typically can divert unwanted comments about his man bag by hanging it from a second belt slung across the hips where it serves to accentuate the bulge of his personal toolbox and tease his workmates. Those with a liking for men and restraint situations might find this doubly alluring. Particularly when it complements such an alluring torso with well-managed chest hair.

Perhaps a colleague has just pointed out to him how sexy he looks but in a lustful rather than an admiring way and that's why he's sweating. Of course, that response only intensifies his erotic attraction.  

On the other hand, this might easily be a picture of another builder learning that he's going to have to strip down to his man bag and work naked up on the roof (see previous post). It's that and not the heat that's brought him out in a sweat

~

For other belt uses, click on the 'Belts' label below

101 Uses For A Belt - No 10 Man Bag Holder

  Of course, butch workmen don't like to advertise the fact, but a man bag is an essential accessory for holding their tools. For example, when they have to work in difficult-to-access places leaving their toolboxes behind.

It is particularly useful for working at heights but becomes essential where their clothes with their handy pockets have been removed. This happens more often than you might think. On very hot summer days stripping off is natural and hunky blokes like to show off their physiques - but only the half above the waist usually.

Jeans removal is the domain of extreme show-offs, but when a builder has to work, out in the open, totally naked it can only mean one of the following things:

1. He lost a drunken bet

2. He's a victim of some practical jokers on the site

3. The disgruntled foreman is demonstrating his authority.

(Perhaps to stop him disappearing to place a bet or grab a pint)

4. A client with perverse interests has spotted him doing wrong 

or secretly frequenting a gay bar or has some other hold over him.

His resentful look suggests his naked state has been forced on him.

At least his man bag can come to his rescue as a modesty device - in some positions - if he's lucky.

But, to be fair, taking photographs of the poor man's humiliation is really rubbing it in.

For other belt uses, click on the label below

The Power of Wet

 This image, called 'Men of the Road' is a fascinating mixture of technical skill and miscalculation. One is immediately struck by the convincing sense of men being caught in a downpour at night. The wet, clinging clothing and hair of the one on the right is marvellously captured. 

The scene itself, showing the two men changing the wheel of an articulated truck in a rainstorm, draws on powerful themes of masculinity - truckers working with huge machines. The glimpses of the broken-down truck rig in the background reinforce this with realistic detail, as do the faces of both men, mature and handsome, manly. It has a similar quality to the heterosexual art we see on the covers of Men's Action magazines.

The impromptu strip therefore seems in keeping, a typical laddish response to the downpour, but the eyes of the wheel-changer, staring at his buddy's sexy midriff, and his grip on the nut removal tool speak for themselves and suddenly homoerotic overtones creep in, hardly needing the elaboration provided by the huge boner in his pants. It's as though he never really looked at him before and now he sees the light.

So far, so sexy. However, closer inspection reveals all sorts of inconsistencies in the drawing. The proportions of their bodies, for example, their bottom halves don't seem to match the top and there's a subtle alteration in toning and style with the bottom half more typical of erotic fare. It's almost as if two different pictures have been merged together or perhaps that an 'innocent' straight image has been adapted for nefarious purposes. A 'might have been' classic.

The artist is Bart West

I found this image in a gay beefcake magazine Sir G (ca 1960). 

The Art of Amalaric, Part 8b - Lord Chatterley's Forester

 This story is one of Amalaric's most satisfying reads with a neat compactness that qualifies it for the 'Lollipops' section of this mitchmen survey (Part 9) but it also contains a substantial section describing the nature of life as a slave, making it slightly more suitable for Part 8, 'A Slaves Life', so I've effectively designated it as a 'Part 8 and a half'

819 Amalaric - The Chatterley Estate

Builders and workmen form a major source of grist for Amalaric's stern mill, but hunky, gardening types are almost equally popular. In this story, Jim Oliver arrives in the UK, fresh out of Aussie horticultural college and lands a job on the Chatterley Estate. These are ancient, hereditary lands centred on an imposing Gothic pile with a somewhat sinister appearance, evident in the image above. Amalaric revives the equally ancient job of 'Forester' for Jim, which is about as near as you can get in the UK to being one of those homoerotic lumberjacks so revered by Tom of Finland. 

Amalaric's picture gives a sense of how impressed and pleased Jim is with his new situation. He throws himself into his duties with enthusiasm and his readiness to expose his torso to the summer sun soon catches the eye of Lady Chatterly. She is the sister of the Lord of the Manor and proves to be another Amalaric femme fatale. She duly makes advances and Jim reciprocates, adding her to his own, considerable list of conquests in a nearby barn. The earthy experience so impresses the cultured Lady C that she can't resist bragging about it and disparaging the sex life of her brother, who is gay.

Lord C's explicit characterisation as a gay man is unusual for Amalaric (Bobby and his accomplice in 24 hours are the only other characters I can recall who are described in that way, see Part 3, image 312 et seq). Amalaric's other predators usually seem to have gay leanings, but it's implied and not entirely confirmed by their actions. It's often quite hard to say whether their interest in manipulating other men is really about sex at all or simply a way of wielding power over them.

Having sown the seeds of discord, Lady C leaves on a 3 months holiday to escape the English winter. No sooner has she departed than Lord C accuses Jim of raping her. There are many echoes of the story of Steve Delgado here – a man isolated in an unfamiliar jurisdiction and falsely accused of rape with the key witness conveniently absent (see Part 6, Cruel Justice). However, the motives are different here, putting Jim in prison and out of reach of his sister is the last thing on Lord C's mind.

English aristocrats no longer enjoy the possibilities of cruel, unbridled power available to the ruthless Arizona Sheriff in 'Steve Delgado', (in fact since 'Pride and Prejudice', they've become soft stereotypes for aspirational romance in the manner of Mills & Boon and Disney). Nevertheless Lord C's money and position enables him to threaten the spunky, defiant Aussie with considerable unpleasantness and brutality. 

It's a ploy of course, to cajole him into submitting to a private, off-the-record, punishment arrangement (in the manner of Todd Sanders and Ryan in 'Bobby' - see Part 3- Hunks and their Manipulators). In these circumstances, a three month contract of unpaid work, to compensate the Chatterley family for his insult, seems to offer Jim an easy way out. 

This is similar to the arrangement Dave McGuinness makes with the banker in '24 hours' in order to pay off his parents' debts. Amalaric's refinement and intertwining of themes familiar from other stories is a pleasing and satisfying feature of this yarn (fans of Wagner's complex music will understand the effect).

820 Amalaric - Jim Waiting For The Master

Having thus signed away his freedom, Jim reports to the big house next day to begin his reparations with a summary punishment. He is taken down into the basement, forced to strip down to his underwear and humiliatingly groped. Then he's left to stew for seven hours with a flail ominously hanging in plain sight on the wall. Jim's isolation and realisation that he faces an unimaginable, barbaric punishment is nicely captured in the image above. His fears are realised when the lackeys return and chain him to a post. Lord C arrives to cut off his underpants and personally administers a lengthy punishment with the flail.

821 Amalaric - Jim Leads Them To The Scene Of The Crime

The flogging is just the beginning of Jim's ordeal. Next, he is forced to lead them, still stark naked and raw with pain, to the barn where his lust led him into this trap. The strange procession is joined by curious servants and estate workers as they pass by. Jim shows them all where he had sex with Lady C. Having thus apparently confessed to the 'crime', he is tied down over bales of hay in the same spot and subjected to a rather different sexual invasion by first the Lord himself and then a succession of burly estate workers. Although Lord C is gay, Amalaric gives us no reason to suppose his men are, their participation in Jim's deflowering seems to have more to do with laddishness opportunism and loyalty to the Lord than sexual desire

This scene and Jim's preceding sexual encounter with Lady C are explicitly described which is unusual for Amalaric. All his stories are infused with erotically loaded events but sex does not usually go beyond forced milking, though more is sometimes hinted at.

822 Amalaric - Jim Is Fitted With A Chastity Device

As a final insult and fitting punishment for his supposed misdeeds, Jim is forcibly fitted with a chastity device (which I think is the only example of such a gadget being employed in Amalaric's stories). He is told that it will only be taken off when he is under supervision - at work, for example. This curious blend of sexual sadism and pragmatism is typical of Amalaric's enslavement arrangements.

In this picture we see that Jim's new appendage seems to be something of a wonder for the estate workers who linger and ogle the embarrassed young Aussie. The nephew character who tormented Tanner in his enslavement story (seen in image 815 from Part 8) also drops in to enjoy Jim's humiliation, hovering with characteristic furtiveness in the background (second left in the grubby vest). This connection gives a hint of Jim's vulnerability to opportunists in his new subservient position.

The long-standing Anglo-Aussie tradition of fierce sporting rivalry and ruthless one-upmanship will give a pleasing twist to Jim's plight for many Brits.

823 Jim Is Put To Work In The Fields

If Jim imagined he would simply return to his old job after this traumatic punishment he soon finds he is mistaken. He is transferred to new quarters - a secure, bare prison cell where his most intimate routines are closely monitored and the food is frugal. He is put to work on unskilled, labour-intensive tasks like tending the windswept fields (above). This one looks like it's going to need a lot of weeding and he's not been given any tools to do it with. As a concession, he is allowed to wear underpants for work but is shacked with leg irons to prevent escape. In the weeks that follow, the estate men prove to be enthusiastic enforcers of Jim's servitude, an authentic if anachronistic adaptation of the British Estate tradition of loyalty to the Lord.

 

824 Jim Is Put To Work In The Quarry

We also see Jim working in a quarry, manually shifting stones. It's back-breaking work and he hates it as much as the muddy, quarry slave illustrated in picture 817 (from Part 8). The other estate workers delight in 'supervising' him, reminding him of his slave status and administering corporal punishment from time to time. They make sure he's denied any pleasure and given no opportunity for private, sexual relief when he's out of the chastity device. He stumbles across a copy of the original 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' while clearing a barn, but it is taken away from him, an interesting irony.

 

825 Jim Oliver Milked

Any worries Jim might have had about the estate workers wanting to molest him or repeat his treatment in the barn prove to be groundless and after a month he discovers why. Like Tanner (in Part 8, image 808 onwards), he discovers that there is to be a formal process for relieving the sexual frustration arising from his enforced chastity and it is conducted at monthly intervals.

Lord C performs the task personally in the salubrious surroundings of the Ballroom of the Big House. It's something of an honour for Jim, since a humble barn or cellar serves for most slaves. Chained to a pillar (above) Jim faces this latest humiliation with manly dignity. Lord C brings in his pals and cronies to watch as he forcibly milks his frustrated slave. Inevitably there's a spillage onto the carpet which necessitates an immediate punishment for Jim. There's no shortage of volunteers amongst these public school types to carry it out.

As they discuss the forthcoming Garden Party, Jim realises that his duties as Lord C's slave will not be limited to hard, physical field work. Other tasks, intimate in nature and no less humiliating are coming his way. Still, at least there are only two more months to go........well, that's what he agreed to anyway.......

~

The Garden Party is described in an appendix to Lord Chatterley's Forester at Gay Bondage Fiction. It's by a different author, Red1skin, but has more pictures by Amalaric  (first chapter of both parts free but it's a subscription site).

This mitchmen series on the 'Art of Amalaric' continues in Part 9a 'Lollipops' and you can also read the entire series starting from Part 1 - 'A Slave To Passion'