Iron Pants

by Alistair Acorn

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Size, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Young man seeks revenge for an old man he befriended.


Copyright┬ę 2003

I received a letter in the post to come and collect the items that had been left to me in the will of the late William McPherson, from a firm of Solicitors in our town. The items had to be collected personally as laid down in the will, and proof of identity would be required before the items were handed over.

Now William McPherson was known to me as Bill who was when he died at the age of 64 from a heart attack, a good friend who lived in the "Big House" as we called it in our street. He was the happiest man you could ever meet, but his so called wife was the most miserable faced old cow you would ever meet.

Even although they were married Bill lived in a single bedroom cottage attached to the Big House, but had his meals in the Big House. Forty years previous there was a domestic because Bill was caught having it off with one of the maids in the house and was expelled to the cottage.

As Bill told me the story was like this. His wife (Isabella) was the owner of the three factories in the area left to her by her father. Bill was a worker in the one of the factories and it was at a time when youth was rebelling against everything. He and Isabella took part in a blue movie made by one of the members of their group, but also included scenes with his then girlfriend Isabella having it off with young underage boys, five of them in fact all in the same scene. He got hold of the films which were the originals with no copies and put them in a safe deposit box. He then approached Isabella and told her he had them, to keep the whole thing from going public they got married. Not a happy marriage, but it gave Bill a roof over his head, and he got a bit of sex, now and again, like crumbs throws to the sparrows. At this time they both lived in the same house, but she took on the long faced look from the time of the marriage.

Bill was an orphan who had gate crashed the in-crowd in the first place being with Isabella. He had no one; he now had a job in the factory as Dispatch manager which he said suited him. Well being a young man at the time and virile if he never got a bit of sex at home he looked elsewhere, and for a couple of years everything was fine, until the eventful day, when he was caught by his wife humping the maid on his bed. Even at that time he never shared the bed with his wife. Anyway he was thrown out to live in the small cottage. He held the films as a threat over his wife's head, so he continued his job, but they never spoke another word to one another from that day on.

Mrs McPherson was the most miserable woman you could ever meet she complained about everyone and everything. As children living in the area we were hounded by the Police for riding past her house and making too much noise, anything like that she would complain about. She was chairman or a member of that many committees that she had her finger in every pie and being one of the upper Industrialist class got what she wanted almost every time.

According to Bill she always dressed the same, white blouse with a high neck and long sleeves, black skirt to mid calf, black stockings 4 inch high heels, a black jacket to match skirt in colder days, her long hair up in a Scandinavian style bundle at the back of the head, her half round glasses on the end of her nose and no make-up, and a sour look on her face.

Through the years she was always appearing in the newspapers, or on TV and she always looked as Bill had described her. His name for her was 'Iron Pants'.

Bill on the other hand was always helpful, and would chat with anyone; he always had a smile on his face. How we became friends was when I was fifteen. He was walking in a park area near us, which has a pathway along the edge of a steep cliff, not very high but high enough, about 100 feet, Bill fell due to the path giving way. He got his leg jammed in the fork of a bush, which broke his fall, but also broke his leg.

Bill had lain in that position, unable to get out for about two hours, when I came along and spotted him. I got him out and assisted him to safer ground, then rushed to get an ambulance. I visited him in hospital and I got my name in the paper for saving him and for a while I was the local hero. After Bill got out of hospital I visited him in his cottage until I was visited by the police, and issued with a restriction order, banning me from approaching Mrs McPherson's house no nearer than 100 yards. I still had Bills telephone number so I rang and told him about it.

"The bitch, that is how Iron Pants is, sorry I'll see you in the park though."

It was then he told me what I have said above. He thanked me for saving him and caring about his welfare, and that one day I may be in a position to right the wrongs, that was all he said. As I grew up I often saw Bill, always with a smile on his face and a kind word for everyone, except Iron Pants.

Now this letter; I'm now 25 years old and ten years since I helped Bill, I wonder what he left me, I know he had no money himself? I got in the car and drove down to the law company, showed my identity and received a sealed envelope and a sealed metal box about nine inches deep, two foot long and a foot wide. I felt two keys in the envelope which I presumed were for the box. I signed for the items and drove home.

I placed the box on the kitchen table and opened the envelope. In it was a short letter, with two different keys attached to the letter. I won't say what was all in the letter but the fact that one key was the key to a safety deposit box in the local bank and the other for the box the lawyers gave me. He said that it was up to me how I used the items in the safety deposit box, but to enjoy myself with the contents of the other. At the bottom was two names highlighted. I just couldn't work it out.

I opened the box and it was full of odds and ends, cheap watches, keys, and junk really, then I noticed that one key was the same as the one for the safety deposit box. Then the penny dropped, the two names in the letter were the names the boxes were under.

Taking the lawyers letter, the letter with the two names and the two keys I returned to the towns centre and went to the deposit box section and explained all the facts. The teller in charge of that section showed me into a small room and five minutes later returned with both the boxes. He unlocked one of the locks on each box with his key and then left. Using my keys I opened the boxes. One was stacked with bank notes, the other contained six small 16mm reels and nothing else.

I pressed the button in the booth and the teller returned; I asked for two bags which I then put the tapes in one and the money in the other. I left the key in one lock and locked the other box. At the counter I told the teller that I would be keeping the box under Jack Johnson but the other I no longer needed.

When I got home, I dug out my old Singermatic with the video converter attached to it, then connected the lot to the video recorder. Being a Movie buff I knew that some of the old films were made on a very unstable base so I didn't want to run the film too many times. I would like to get it on the first hit.

The medium was good quality, but it was better to be safe than sorry, the first run recorded perfectly and there was no need to do much fiddling with the projector. Also the recordings came out crystal clear not that fuzzy images one sometimes gets with using a converter.

Now I saw how Bill had such a hold over Iron Pants, if this material got out she'd not only be ostracised, but imprisoned for improper dealings with minors. This material was dynamite. But what could I do with it.

There was the equivalent of $200,000(US) in notes, far too much to leave around the home. So bundling up the money and the six reels again I returned to the bank. I got a larger box and paid the difference and put both bags in the box.

On returning home I made a copy of the VHS tape, using an enhancer, to make sure the quality didn't drop too much on a second generation copy. I then returned to the bank, and placed the original tape in the box. I wonder what the bank thought of my comings and goings.

I reviewed the tape over and over and it was a turn on, Isabella had a fantastic body, I wonder if she still had? She still looked the same on the video as she does on the pictures I see of her on the TV and newspapers. Only in the video she is laughing in the pictures she is sour faced.

I am single, own my own house, fit and healthy and now am comfortably well off thanks to Bill. I'm going to take time off from work and laze around and enjoy myself.

Well I decided to stir the pot for Bill and screw Iron Pants as much as I could. She gave Bill a hard time, using the information Bill gave me, I was going to get revenge for his sake.

I got the number of the McPherson residence from a girl I knew who worked in the main office of the company, for the number is a silent one. The telephone exchange wouldn't even connect me to it. Anyway I rang the number and got the maid or servant of hers.

"I would like to speak to Mrs McPherson please?"

"I'm sorry Mrs McPherson speaks to no-one on the telephone."

"Give her this number please (which I gave) which is a telephone booth and tell her to ring within the next five minutes. Just say it's about some old film her dead husband had."

I put the phone down and waited. I didn't have long to wait, two and a half minutes to be precise.

"Who am I speaking to?" she demanded in a stern voice.

"Just a friend of Bill, I have in my possession a number of tapes that the authorities would be very interested in, can I come round and see you."

"If this is blackmail, I'll call the Police."

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / NonConsensual / Size /