By slavebladeboi

I’ve always been sort of handy with tools, especially woodworking tools. Nothing fancy or complicated but I can generally solve simple problems that need to be fixed and involve bits of wood. Hanging doors, shelving from scratch, even laying a new wood floor have been part of my areas of rather limited expertise, so when Boss said we needed to replace a bit of kit we used I was up for the task.

Not groundbreaking science, nothing anyone else with a bench, tape measure and a saw couldn’t undertake, but it had to be accurate. Boss needed a new suspension bar he could hang me from. Its measurement had to be precise to fit exactly where the old one was positioned, as it slid in between some other kit we had. It also had to hold my weight at the times I was made to swing from it rather than support myself on tip toes, a position we normally used. I said I’d do it, save some money that we could use at the biker stop.

Great, he said. Make it decent. As if I’d do a crap job, especially as it would be me underneath it.

I moved the Fireblade out of my garage so I didn’t get sawdust over it and, using the measurements I’d taken, plus the old bar, went to work. I thought some 3×3 would be ample for strength and, after checking everything, made the cuts. Sounds simple. It was.

I had new steel attachments, rings for restraints, to be locked to, plus eye hooks for anything else that he might think of hanging me from. After some sanding, some screwing — not the kind I’m used to — and a final rub down – again not what… yeah best skip that joke, some black paint and it was ready.

Now, just to let you know, my last project, a month or so ago, was a handmade cat o nine tails. I thought I was being clever. I got a couple of old leather dog leads, it was quite substantial leather, and carefully sliced each one into narrow strips, too narrow in a couple of places as they broke off, but ended up with nine lengths each a bit over a foot long and about an eighth of an inch wide. Square in profile now as the leather was about the same thickness. The handle was carefully wrapped in rubberised strips until it became a good grip and the tails were then soaked in a leather conditioner to make them more pliable and softer. He loved it. Said my screaming and yelling made him so hard it was difficult to stop swinging it.

He messaged me. “Think of a number and text it to me before your next visit.”

I’m not what you’d generally call brave, stupid a lot of the time but not so much brave, and I knew how his devious mind worked so I played safe and sent 15. If it was minutes in some sort of punishing position I could stand it, if it was that combined with that number of lashes, I could handle it as well, and I didn’t think it could be many other permutations apart from something on the electro. So I ran with 15.

A couple of days later, me, the beam and some other bits of gear I had in my backpack, arrived at Boss’s door. After knocking I let myself in as usual and dropped the kit so I could get ready for whatever he had in store. Laid out were the rubber boxers, neoprene cocksucker hood, leather restraints for ankles and wrists and a pair of clover clamps. At the end of the row was a crop, a leather paddle and THAT whip.

I was feeling the beginnings of precum mix with the light covering of lube that he’d spread over the inside of the boxers against my thighs as I pulled them up when he appeared in the doorway.

Hello Alpha

Hello Boss

He pulled the hood over my head, zipped it closed and darkness reigned.

Hold out your wrists. Have we got a great morning ahead of us!

Yes Boss. Thank you, Boss.

Fuck, this is going to hurt.

Metal would like to thank the author, slavebladeboi, for this story!