Stock in Trade - Part 1 of 3

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I’d just finished putting the last coat of varnish on my latest job when I saw the silhouette of someone standing in the doorway of my Workshop.

“I’ll be with you in a minute or so. I need to clean the brush before the varnish on it dries,” I called out to the person. The person didn’t answer so I took it as they didn’t object.

My name is John Smith. Yes, really, that is my given name. I’m one of a growing band of people all over the country who take stuff that would otherwise end up in recycling or landfill and repurpose them so that they can be used again. Some of us have even become quite famous thanks to TV shows like ‘Money for Nothing’. No me but one can hope eh?

The side effect of those shows is that a few more people were appreciative of us ‘up cyclers’.

My upscaling usually involves metal or wood. I prefer the latter mostly because I'm a time-served cabinet maker by profession. My current job had been to bring new life into a set of 1960s 'G-Plan' dining chairs. With the help of another local up cycler, Rosy Shorrocks, who is a wizard with fabrics and upholstery, we’d totally transformed the dull brown wood and orange/beige padded seats into something far more vibrant and very saleable. She’d been around earlier in the day to take some photos for the internet. If our past work was anything to go by, they’d sell well in terms of price and speed of sale. That would clear some space for another project. Quite what that was, as they say, ‘up in the air’.

I stopped my daydreaming and finished cleaning my brush. Finally, I washed my hands before returning to the main part of my workshop wiping my hands with a clean towel.

“Hello.”
“Sorry for the delay, but I really did need to clean the brush properly.”

“That’s all right. I’m not in a hurry.”

“My name is John Smith and this is my business. How can I help you? Ms?”

“Alex. Alex Barnes.”

The woman who stood before me was stunningly beautiful. Her long blonde hair shimmered in the afternoon light. Everything about her oozed money and self-confidence.

“Well Alex, can I interest you in some re-purposed chairs by any chance? Once the varnish has dried and I’ve given them a polish, that is…”

She managed a smile.

“Not today but I understand that you do commissions?

“I do, but those are few and far between these days,” I said feeling slightly surprised.

“I may have an interesting one for you.”

“What sort of thing is it that you want?”

“It is a little difficult to describe. Can I show you a short video to help?”

“Sure. If that will help explain it then great. Shall we adjourn to my office? There are a couple of chairs there.”

She smiled back at me so I led the way.

“Please take a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee or coffee I’m afraid. I drank the last of the tea earlier.”

“No, I’m fine.”

Without waiting, she took a tablet out of the large shoulder bag that she was carrying.

“This is what I’m talking about.”

She started the video playing. At first, I was a bit shocked by the content of the video. Then I became a bit intrigued by the device that was featured in the video. She let it play to the end and closed the tablet.

“Can you make me something like that?”

“It seemed rather crude to be honest.”

“It is but can you make one? I mean a really nice one. Proper wood, polished and smooth. So that it would not look out of place in a home. I mean as a centre piece by the way… Something that befitted your undoubted skills as a cabinet maker.”

My mind was already racing away thinking about the wood and the finish and a dozen other things.

“It is certainly an interesting and very unique item of furniture. You did want it as one piece given the sort of finish that you mentioned?”

“Oh yes. That’s what I want. Can you do it? Are you willing to do it?”

“First things first. You want me to make you a set of stocks and like the one in the video, they are to be self-locking. Once someone is in them, they are stuck until someone lets them out? Am I correct in that assumption?”

“That is almost correct. I’d like a fail-safe. Something like a timer that makes the release mechanism open after a set amount of time. Is that possible?”

“That makes me a lot happier but even so, I’d need you to sign a release in case something goes wrong. The last thing I want is to be hit with a huge lawsuit. Even the repurposed furniture I sell is done on the understanding that it is ‘as seen’.”

“I understand your point of view. I’m sure that it won’t be a problem.”

It was already clear that she was determined to go through with this. The idea of a self-locking mechanism appealed to me but I didn’t have a clue where to start. I needed some time to think things through.

“How urgent is this?”

“It is now the beginning of September. They would make an ideal Christmas present don’t you think?”

“Oh? I thought that it was for you?”

She grinned back at me.

“It is. Can’t a girl give herself a present?”

She had me there.

“Ok. I need to do some investigation into the locking mechanism and how I could fit a safety device. Can you come back a week today?”

“That would be fine. What about cost?”

“As you want it in Oak, that will need to be seasoned Oak. I think about four hundred and fifty for the materials and three of weeks of my time by the time it is finished which is another seven hundred and fifty worth of my time. As for the lock and release mechanism, I have no idea at this point in time. I’ll probably have a better idea in a week.”

Alex thought for a few seconds.

“That will be fine.”

Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a black leather wallet.

With a few deft moves, ten £50 notes appeared in her hand.

“Will this be sufficient for your investigations? To oil the wheels so to speak?”

The amount slightly shocked me but I took it.

“It will be more than adequate.”

Alex stood up.
“Then we have a deal for the first part of my project. Here is my card. If you get tied up with other work and can’t get the preliminaries completed in time, please give me a call. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll see you a week from today if that is agreeable?”
She handed me the business card.

I felt as if she'd taken control of the whole thing. For some strange reason, it didn't matter one little bit.

I did rectify the situation a little by giving her a receipt for the initial payment.


[one week later]

To say that I was nervous about Alex returning was a total underestimation of how I really felt inside. I’d lost count of the times I’d picked up her card and debated calling her to call the whole thing off. I would have even sent her the £500 that she’d left with me back except that her card didn’t have any address on it. The total sum of information on her card was a mobile phone number. No name, no email, no landline and no address. A real woman of mystery.

I’d done some research on a self-locking mechanism. It became clear that it needed to be a failsafe of some sort. If the battery ran down, it would release. My problem was that this sort of kit is not available off the shelf and I don’t have any real skills in software development. I’d flunked ICT at school. I could just about manage a static website for my business and that was it. I'd need professional help and lots of it for this part. That might well bump the cost up considerably and even increase the timescales. I wasn’t sure if I could actually make the device she wanted before Christmas. If I did, it would probably cost a lot more than I’d estimated. If it was to be as she said, a centrepiece of a room then it needed to be perfect.

Then, there was how I felt towards her. Stunningly beautiful and obviously intelligent but very mysterious. I’d love to be able to get to know her better but she was way., way out of my league. The clothes she wore when she visited me probably cost her more than I’d earn in a very good month. Doing what I do for a living is very satisfying but it is not going to make me rich anytime soon.

With a sigh, I finished sanding down a late Victorian ‘gate leg' table that had been stored in a shed for the last fifty years. The thing was made of really good oak and I'd use part of the tabletop for the stocks should I ever get to make it.

Deciding to use old oak for the job was a no-brainer. There was something very satisfying about working with timber that had been felled over 100 years before I was born. There was something about the grain and texture that was very hard to find in modern materials. I blamed kiln drying for a lot of the issues. Modern oak that had been dried that way tends to crack whereas naturally dried material is very stable. Just the opposite of 'green oak' which is perfect for structures such as frames to houses.

Part of my workshop was used as storage for reclaimed material. I scoured farm and factory sales for a supply of good wood and metal. Recycling applies to raw materials and not just too manufactured items.

Right at the back of my yard, there were half a dozen large pieces of English Walnut. Those alone were worth almost a thousand pounds each. With all the Oak, Ash and Elm that I had acquired over the years, I knew that I could make her project with almost zero cost in wood. The price I had quoted was for replacement stock. The biggest stumbling block was the electronics and electro-mechanical parts. Quality woodwork needs metalwork of equal quality. These were hard to find. Most of the stuff on the market is made in China. Even the most expensive parts were not right for this piece. It had been clear to me that she wanted to be proud of her stocks. It was up to me to make that happen should I decide to accept the commission.

In amongst the salvage, there was an oak table top that would be ideal for the base for the piece. The legs had been ravaged by woodworm but the top had survived almost intact.

I was actually relishing getting some real carpentry done for a change. It had been a while since anyone had wanted a proper custom-made piece of furniture. I didn’t count the odd kitchen that I made from oak or ash in that. Most of them could be made by machine and finished by hand. This project would need a lot of care and finesse if I was not going to waste a lot of valuable material.

My daydreaming was cut short by a car pulling up outside my workshop. A quick look through the window told me that it was the same Mercedes CLS that she'd been in on her previous visit. A chauffeur opened the door for her to get out. Just as before, she was dressed to kill. Classy and sexy, but not tarty.

I wiped my hands to remove any dirt from the sanding and went to the door to meet her.

“Hello again, Ms Barnes,” I said happily.

She smiled but it was only a half-smile.

“Alex please.”

“Please come into my workshop, Alex.”

That got me a warmer smile. She walked right on into my domain.

“I was in the process of sanding down this old Victorian table top. I’d use it in your commission.”

“I would have thought that you would use new material?”

“Much of what I do here is to take old furniture and salvage it. The parts that are worth using again, I save. I think I have enough wood here for your project. That would save on the cost of materials.”

“Cost isn’t the object. How it looks and works is what is important to me.”

“I totally agree. New wood can be a little green and can crack as it dries. This is not the case for old wood. Most Oak that is commercially available might say that it is seasoned but it really needs three to four years gently drying out before it makes the best furniture. From what you have told me, I see your stocks as part of the furniture for a long time to come. I have earmarked a number of pieces for your project none of them were felled less than a hundred years ago. Most of it comes from old dining tables which no one seems to want these days.”

“You are going to do it then?”

“My only problem is the locking mechanisms. I have some ideas. Perhaps we can discuss them over a cup of tea?”

She grinned.
“You haven’t drunk it all then?”

“No, I restocked at the weekend. There is even a choice. Green Tea, Darjeeling or Earl Grey.”

“Green Tea please. Just as it comes.”

“Perfect. I’ll put the kettle on if you will come into my office.”


Over the next half an hour, we discussed the finer points of the project. Alex was willing to accept my suggestions relating to user comfort, but was pretty firm on her desire to have ankle locking included in the design.

When she'd left, I looked at the new pile of £50 notes that was now sitting on my desk and sighed. Her perfume lingered in the air. She smelled delightful. Alex knew that she was beautiful, but didn’t flaunt it like some so-called social media stars. I still couldn't get my head around why she wanted a pair of stocks sized for herself, but as the old saying goes, 'the customer is always right'.

Later that day, I posted an ad on a couple of ‘gig-economy’ sites for someone to build the control and safety mechanism. I described it as best I could without giving too much away. I had a fair idea about what sort of solution would do but lacked the skills to implement it. I hoped that I get a good number of bids for the work so that I could evaluate and compare them. The other thing I hoped was that someone not too far away would get the work. At least then, I could meet them to discuss things in person.


I waited for two days before looking at the job sites. To my dismay, there was only one serious bid for the work. The upside was that the applicant only lived about twenty miles away. Their quote for the job was very reasonable, so I closed the bidding and arranged a meeting with the winner, 'J Swift'. For a moment, I wondered if the author 'Jonathan Swift' had come back from the dead. Naturally, that was impossible, but it did cause me to smile for a few seconds.

The feedback reports on their work had all shown a positive view. I read every one, and none of the more than fifty reviews had said anything bad to say about their work. All were positive about the interaction between the client and the contractor. I hope that this would bode well for my job.

I sent off an email requesting a meeting to discuss the job. Being an old school sort of person, I preferred to meet people face to face that try to do everything ‘over the internet’.


The following day, I started work on the main part of the stocks namely, the base and vertical column. I had all the materials to hand so it didn’t take me long to get all the parts for the base cut and shaped. After I’d cut out the receptacle for the vertical post, I got down to the work that I enjoyed the most, precision carpentry or cabinet making.

I was so engrossed in my work that I failed to notice that I had a visitor.

At first, I thought that it was Alex. Her face was nearly identical but their hair was brown rather than blonde.

“Hello,” I said trying not to stare too much.
“Can I help you?”

She smiled.
“I think it is rather the other way around. J Swift at your service.”

I must have looked a bit shocked.
“I was in the area and I decided to call by.”

“How… How long were you standing there? I’m John, John Smith by the way.”

She grinned.
“About five minutes. You were so engrossed in your work that I felt rather guilty at interrupting you.”

“Thanks. I tend to get like that sometimes. Before you know it, half the day has gone.”

She grinned again. She had the same smile as Alex. Everything about her screamed to me that she was Alex’s sister but there was something a little off.

“Please come on in.”

“I don’t want to disturb you. I know how hard it can be to pick up the thread of where you are after an interruption.”

This time I smiled.
“It’s fine. I’ve just about finished this part. I need to make another part fit and then I can glue them together.”

“Did you want to talk over my little project?”

“Actually, a bit more than that. I knocked up a prototype and thought that it might be best to show you here rather than in a Coffee Shop.”

“That’s quick. But please come on through into my office. I’ll put the kettle on. Sanding wood always makes me thirsty.”

“Tea, Milk and no sugar. I’ll go and get my things from the car.”

I’d put the kettle on and found a couple of clean mugs for the tea. While I waited for it to boil, I wondered if I should tell her that she looked like Alex? I decided against it. Alex appeared to be a very private person so I'd let things play themselves out.

I was just pouring the tea when she returned carrying a cardboard box and a laptop case over one shoulder. It was clear that she’d come prepared.

“Take a seat and we can have a chat before your demo,”

“Thanks.”

I passed her a mug and a bottle of milk.

Once she’d poured some milk into the mug, I asked,
“What does the ‘J’ stand for?”

“Jan. It actually stands for Johanna but I prefer to be called Jan. I use the initial as it makes my name stand out a bit.”

“Like the author of Gullivers Travels?”

She noticeable winced.

“Sorry.”

“That’s all right. I’ve gotten used to it over the years.”

I watched as she drank some tea.

“What have you put together for me to see?”

She put down her mug and took out her phone.

“I made this app for an Android phone. It talks Blue-Tooth to the electronics which is based on a Raspberry Pi-Zero which controls a couple of model railway points motors. That’s the locking mechanism.”

“Sounds pretty comprehensive but a bit beyond me I’m afraid.”

Jan smiled.
“That’s what I’m for isn’t it?”

I sat back and looked at her again. The resemblance to Alex was uncanny.

“What’s the end project if I’m allowed to ask?” said Jan.

I’d been dreading this question.

“Please don’t laugh but it is for a pair of Stocks.”

She tittered and smiled.

“This wouldn’t be for someone called Alex by any chance?”

She’d got me in one but before I could answer she added,
“She’s my sister.”

“Yes. How did you guess?”

“She was talking about getting some when we last met then a few weeks ago, she tipped me off about going ahead.”

“I feel like I’ve been played?”

“Not at all. She lives her life and I live mine. We meet once or twice a year to exchange birthday presents. We are as different as chalk and cheese despite having the same parents.”

Then Jan said,
“You do know that she’s a Dominatrix, don’t you?”

Her words stunned me.

“You are kidding, aren’t you?”

“No. She has men into her dungeon and charges them an arm and a leg and let her humiliate them, or tie them up and other bits of stuff that I don’t want to know about.”

I sighed.
“That explains the big Merc that she turned up in.”

Jan shook her head.
“That belongs to her sugar daddy. He runs an investment company in the City.”

“They sound like an unusual couple?”

Jan shook her head.
“He was a client of hers right at the beginning. Then he wanted more than that so they struck a deal. That was over eight years ago. It seems to work well.”

Her voice seemed to tail off a bit at the end.

“Do I detect a tinge of jealously?”

“Ha-ha. Not on your life. I could not do what she does. No, not jealous of what she does. Possibly a bit envious of her life in general. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she did ask me to join her but I don’t have the appetite to humiliate men like she does.”

“Can you explain the stocks? Why does she want them for herself to practice self-bondage?”

“That is a mystery to me. When she told me about the idea last New Year, I laughed and wondered why but Alex has always been a one of a kind. But hey, she’s paying the bill so who are we to argue eh?”

She had a point but there was still a mystery to be solved.

“I think I should see what you have done don’t you think?”


I sat back and watch Jan demonstrate the prototype system. I was amazed at just how much she’d achieved in such a short time.

“I’m a tinkerer in this sort of thing. I had a lot of this stuff done already because I am a member of a Model Railway Club plus, I wrote a programme to run a model railway to a defined schedule for my Masters.”

“You have a Masters?”

“For my sins yeah. It is in control engineering and I applied statistical control techniques to the problem.”

I was impressed.
“We done for that. I just have a couple of woodworking certs.”

Jan laughed.
“From what I see, you are a skilled worker and obviously love what you are doing.”

That was my cue to laugh.
“Most of the time I’m more likely to be found re-purposing old furniture and the like. I tried to flog a set of chairs to your sister when she first came and asked me to look into this project.”

“She said no, I’ll bet?”

“Yeah. It didn’t matter that much. I sold them a few days later and made a hundred and fifty quid on the deal.”

“Doesn’t sound like much?”

“It isn’t really but I make enough to live. Every few months, I get a kitchen to make or refurb, and that makes me a good wad of cash. Most of that I invest in the workshop.”

“You seem to enjoy what you do?”

“I do and that makes up for having a lot less money coming in. Job satisfaction and being my own boss has its own benefits that really can’t be put into monetary terms. I love the work but it is not going to make me rich any time soon.”

Jan grinned.
“Yeah. I know. Before going out on my own, I was working in IT for a bank in the city. The job was interesting at first but then it got really boring so eventually, I left and setup on my own offering my services to the gig economy. There are a lot of timewasters but every so often I get a ‘gig’ that interests me.”

“Which brings you here today.”

“It does.”

While we’d been talking, I’d used the app to set a release time. We both watched the clock and two seconds after the allotted time, the motor whirred and the test was done.

“It looks like you have done most of the work already.”

“I still have the failsafe to work on. That will be a lot more difficult to test properly. Then there are some loose edges that need cleaning up.”

“That’s to be expected.”

I sat back and watched as Jan packed up her things. I was feeling a lot happier about the whole project.

“When will you have it all finished?”

“The end of next week. If you can come next Friday, we can try fitting your bits to the structure. I know how much space to allow for the mechanisms and for running the control and power wires.”

“Are they all going to be buried inside?”

“Oh yes. The plan is that everything but the top of that little box will be hidden away.”

“I know where I can get a separate Bluetooth receiver device. That would allow it all to be hidden. If you could mount it somewhere on the front of the vertical piece then I think that the end result will look much better.”

“Sounds good. Can you email me a picture and its dimensions then I can make allowances for it in the assembly.”

I showed Jan out of my workshop. The difference between her and her sister was very evident. Alex was being driven around in a big Mercedes while Jan drove a twenty-year-old and decidedly rusty Peugeot Hatchback. But… I got the feeling that Jan was happier in herself than Alex.

Back in my office, I sat down and thought about the encounter. While Alex was very, very beautiful, Jan was much more down to earth. Much more my type.

I shook my head and told me not to be so stupid as to think she might be interested in a person like me, especially after just one meeting. I put that down to the fact that I'd been spending far too much time on my own recently. Recently, turned out to be almost nine months since my last girlfriend had dumped me for a footballer who played for a League 2 team. I'd read later that he'd been sacked for sexual misconduct with a female physio.

Still, it would be nice to have someone to work with even if it was likely to be only temporary.

[to be continued]

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Comments

interesting start

not much for humiliation or being restrained myself, but each to their own.

DogSig.png

An interesting

Maddy Bell's picture

Start but not sure I can see where it’s going.

As to the commission. A friend of mine had a light engineering company, bus shelters, hand rails, that sort of thing (well it is Steel City even today). Anyhow, he once had a commission to make chastity belts (there was a well known purveyor of such items in the city at the time), whilst it provided some amusement, as a small business you take the work you can get and turn a profit. Maybe stuff isn’t to our personal taste but I’m sure that applies in most fields of manufacture.

Guess we have to wait until next week to see what happens next.


image7.1.jpg    

Madeline Anafrid Bell

Fooled me

I thought it was going to be about financial wheeling and dealing. This sounds more interesting.

A very interesting start……..

D. Eden's picture

And unusually, I have no idea where this might be headed.

John is in a unique position - first he has a beautiful dominatrix who commissions him to build her a personal bondage device, then second, he meets her sister who is building the locking device for the stocks. He is obviously attracted to both sisters, although perhaps the second sister more than the first.

Additionally, the second sister knows the device is being built for the first sister, who she also knows to be a dominatrix and apparently being kept by a sugar daddy. One can’t help but wonder where he will come in to this, or how the relationship between the two sisters will work.

Interesting concept building the locking device as a blue tooth apparatus with a phone application to control it. I definitely agree that there needs to be a fail safe built into the lock. The locking mechanism should default to unlock if the power dies, or if connectivity to the ap is lost. Most magnetic locking devices default to open when power is lost. Perhaps that would work? Or a spring loaded locking device with a motor to push the lock piston against the spring - when power fails, the spring would push the piston to the default open position.

Sorry - as an engineer you have my thought processes working, lol.

Anyway, I am dying to see where this goes!

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Too Technical?

joannebarbarella's picture

A manual system would work. A simple bolt with a string/rope attachment leading to a weight activated by a timer. Think Heath Robinson.

John needs to be wary. He might be the first user of the apparatus, like a Beta tester.

Never Trust Electronics

Almost anything can make them malfunction. I don't own a car because they are more and more electronic.

Voyeurism

BarbieLee's picture

Comes in almost any form. A rain coat and a naked man. Pole Dancing. Subjugating another in chains, shackles. Not sure if there is a fine line between voyeurism and sadism, the pain of another, torture. Or if cross dressing and going out in public could be in that same category? Webster narrowly defined voyeurism I can't agree with. Who ever wrote the definition of voyeurism for Webster needs to loosen the laces on his or her corset.
Samantha darling, excellent writing skills as usual, the story is an imagination grabber, but I worry about your mental health. A line in the story "Boys School" fits in perfectly here to paraphrase. You need more fiber in your diet.
Hugs Samantha
Barb
Life is a gift, treasure it until it's time to return it.

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

Can’t wait…

Janice34B's picture

…for parts two and three.

Janice

Correction made (I hope)

I took a bit of time out from riding today. It wasn't as hot as previous days, max 28C.
I found a place to stop on the bank of the Loire (a long river in France) east of Nantes. I spent three lovely hours doing SFA apart from having lunch and doing a bit of editing.
I'm staying in a Logis Farmhouse NE of St Nazare tonight. After two nights with nothing but bread and cheese for a meal, it promises to be good.
Off to Caen and the ferry home tomorrow. Only 190 miles or so to ride and most of it motorway class roads.
memo to self. Don't trust copy/paste. I had to paste this updated version twice.

Samantha

Plagerism? Samantha you rewrote this Puppy

BarbieLee's picture

There is a whole different read to the original posting. Sam as an experienced author you understand a few words in a story may change it completely. The feeling while reading it isn't the same as the first post. More depth to the story. Which you may understand if I claim the first post was riding a motor bike and the second posting is riding a motorcycle.
Hugs Samantha, enjoy your ride and watch for the idiots on the road with you. Too many don't mentally see a motorcycle. You have to drive for yourself and the other drivers. Doubt I'll ever straddle an engine again, maybe a horse.
Barb

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

Only a few words were harmed in the editing

of this post but yes, there is a difference. Strange how your surroundings (sitting in a nice place on the banks of the Loire) can affect your mood and consequently, your writing.
Thanks for the comment and yes, I did arrive home safely. Mine was the only Motorcycle on the ferry which is a first for a cross channel trip. It was flat calm and we were treated to a display by a small school of Porpoises during the crossing.
Samantha.

I have to wonder

Wendy Jean's picture

If Jan is trans?