I’m in the playroom now.
I spent a long time at a dental surgery in Manchester, until I was made redundant.
Now I’m in Jon’s playroom - and I have to say that it’s more fun than the dentist’s ever was.
I’m forty years old, though I don’t look it: Jon looks after me very well – he services me often. He’s proud of me. One of the first things he did when I arrived was cover me completely in black leather.
Then he oiled me, renewed my hydraulics, replaced my arms, repaired my headrest and gave me two brand-new motors. I can move more smoothly now than I’ve ever done. And I have leather straps all over me. I love the look on guys’ faces when they see me for the first time, and when they’re strapped onto me I embrace them with my leather arms and I do not let them go.
Footsteps… Aha, it’s Callum – he’s been here many times. One of Jon’s regulars. I like Cal; he’s very responsive and he fights a lot. I like to feel his muscles struggling against me. He never wins.
They’ll get to me eventually. Jon likes to have guys spread eagled between the posts for a while first. Probably to remind himself what they like - and more importantly, what they like but can’t take - because Jon gets off on causing slow, and very controlled pain. Sometimes he brings a victim in who’s already hooded and restrained – I’ve no idea where he gets them from – and then he works on them on the gurney or the St Andrews cross, or puts them into some very uncomfortable position in irons and leaves them for a while before he comes back and sets to work on them. Occasionally it’s a slave/master thing, though Jon doesn’t do a lot of those. I don’t think he’s really a Master type. The best, though, I think, are the medical sessions. And Callum is one of those.
Jon is inviting Cal to take a seat. He has a slightly worried expression on his face as he looks at me – he’s been on me many times before. He’s walking over to me slowly, and I feel the weight of his naked body as he sits down on me, my leather padding compressing under him as he lays back against my headrest. Ah, it feels good to have someone on me again. Jon puts Cal’s ankles into the leather cuffs which are fixed to my lower end. He buckles his upper and lower arms flat to my arms, and then pulls the wide, strong straps tightly over his thighs, pelvis and chest. From earlier sessions Jon knows that Cal moves his head a lot when he struggles, so he takes the face mask – which is just a thick piece of leather with a triangular hole for the nose – straps it across his face and buckles it behind my headrest. Cal can’t see anything now, can’t move his head much, and he’s completely helpless: Jon could perform open-heart surgery on him without anaesthetic and there would be nothing at all Cal could do to stop it. But Jon is not going to do heart surgery.
I wonder if it’s going to be electricity this time – sometimes it is – and that makes victims jerk around a great deal. I like that. But no, it looks like it’s the ball-crusher. He’s pulling Cal’s testicles through the hole, tightening the straps and turning the clamp in readiness.
Ah – it’s an interrogation today. Jon wants to know the names and addresses of Cal’s friends. Cal is, understandably, unwilling to divulge this.
The questions begin. Actually Jon would not make a good interrogator – he’s too easily distracted and gets sidetracked by other information that comes up. But this is sexual theatre, so who cares? I see the shape of Cal’s balls gradually change as Jon turns the clamp, very slowly forcing the perspex plate tighter and tighter, crushing the testicles. I can feel sweat beginning to run down Cal’s body onto my leather backrest as his pain increases. He hasn’t been struggling too much so far, but now he does. He suddenly seems to reach a point where he has to stop it, has to get away from it, and the beautiful fighting starts. His muscles flex and strain against my restraints; they jerk, push, pull and try to move sideways. But my steel frame and leather straps are far, far stronger than he is and I hold him immobile, helpless, as the pain gets slowly more and more unbearable. I always feel like I’m working with Jon – I’m holding the victim down while Jon tortures him. We’re a team. And we always, always win.
Now Jon turns his attention to the rock-hard cock. He takes a pin wheel, and also a metal sound. Ah yes, there will be electrics after all…
* * *
Another day, another victim. This one’s new, haven’t seen him before. What’s this? Jon is in a white coat, with surgical mask and gloves. And the victim – his name is Paul, apparently - is not getting undressed. He sits down on me but the straps are not being used. Aha. I know about this – it’s going to be a dental session of some kind.
For a few minutes Jon asks about the patient’s general oral health, any problems? The usual things. Then he takes a seat, switches the ceiling-mounted light on, and works the controls at the side of my right arm, causing me to flatten slightly to a more reclining position and rotate smoothly to closer to horizontal. I feel Paul’s muscles tense with the movement and the whirring sound of my motors.
Jon adjusts the light. He’s actually quite good at this: he’s chatting conversationally but professionally while he inspects Paul’s teeth. I could criticise the way he’s holding the mouth mirror, but that’s a minor thing. His technique with the pointed metal explorer is Ok, though: he’s probing carefully between the teeth. Ah, good - a sharp intake of breath from our patient as Jon finds a very sensitive spot. He makes a note of it and continues. That appears to be the only one, unfortunately.
He puts the explorer down and talks to the patient. That sensitive spot needs treatment, he says, and to prevent Paul from injuring himself – or Jon – he suggests restraints. The straps go on.
After that he takes the black rubber mask off its hook and holds it over Paul’s nose and mouth for a while. There’s poppers in it, not anaesthetic, but I know it’s more for effect than anything else. Even so, Paul’s eyes are very worried as he stares up into the masked face above him. “That’s it – slow, deep breaths,” says Jon.
Now a mouth gag. This is a stainless steel device that prevents the patient from closing his mouth. Jon sits back and nods. The victim is ready. I wonder just how much pain he’s planning to cause this guy.
I’ll say one thing about Jon: he’s got good control. I know how much he loves to administer pain, but when necessary he can restrain himself. Paul is in the perfect position to have some serious torture inflicted on him, but Jon uses the explorer and a nozzle which supplies a jet of ice-cold air just to work on that sensitive spot carefully and in a very precise way. He’s hovering around that point where pain could very suddenly become agony. I can feel Paul’s body tensed and quivering – he too knows exactly how vulnerable he is. He’s moaning and occasionally wailing as the metal point of the instrument probes gently at the root of the tooth or the cold air jet is directed straight onto it for a moment. But he also has a raging erection in his jeans.
For fifteen minutes the treatment continues, and then Jon sits back. He appears to notice Paul’s hard-on for the first time. He takes what clearly used to be a sonic toothbrush but has been altered to look much more like a surgical instrument, and applies it to the bulge that Paul’s cock is making in his jeans. With every bit as much precision as when he was working on the tooth, he touches the tip to the head for a second, and is rewarded by a powerful jerk of the cock. He repeats this a few times, exploring meticulously to find the most responsive spot on the cock head, then he carefully places the cold-air nozzle back against the tooth and, while holding that exactly in the position that he knows will cause the most pain, touches the sonic device against Paul’s cock again – and this time keeps it there.
Paul’s body tries to arch in the straps from the agony of the icy air on his tooth, and at the same time he starts to cum under the vibrating instrument. I feel his whole body jerking as he yells and fights against my restraints. I do my job and keep him immobile in an inescapable leather grip, unable to do anything about it. Halfway through Cal’s orgasm Jon removes the air jet but he holds the vibrating device in place against the now spunk-soaked jeans and the madly jerking cock, until Cal has completely finished cumming.
Jon sits back and replaces the instrument in its rack. He smiles professionally. “All done. Make another appointment for six months’ time with the receptionist on your way out, please.”
* * *
Jon has many different kinds of sessions in this playroom. In some he doesn’t use me at all, but when he does it’s very satisfying. And every week he cleans my leather, polishes my metal fittings, conditions the straps.
He takes good care of me – and I take very good care of his victims.