Doug’s Machine

By slavebladeboi

“C’mon, strip!”

“Aw, not again, Doug.”

“Yeah. You know the plan. I make them, you try them.”

My partner for the last three years was Doug. He was an ‘artist in metal,’ at least that’s what his internet site says. In fact he makes the most amazing and clever metal bondage items to order or off the shelf that anyone can imagine. As his partner, I get to try them out to see if there are any rough edges or something that looks good on paper is simply an arse to get on or into.

“OK, but I was in the middle of your new ad for the site.”

“That’s fine, you’ll get plenty of time before Monday.”

My day job in IT brought in the regular money, while his skill brought in shed loads at times and nothing for the rest of the year.

“C’mon, strip here and get over into the workshop. You’ll be amazed.”

I usually was, it’s true. I heard him welding, sawing and hammering for the past few days, sometimes until midnight or more. Whatever was there now must be a real work of art.

I stripped and walked over to the workshop. It was only a few paces and we weren’t overlooked by anyone at this end of the lane.

Inside I saw his latest piece in the centre of the room. Actually I was a bit disappointed.

“But it’s just a St Andrews only horizontal,” I said.

“Yeah right,” he answered. “Not quite.”

I was looking at the creation. Imagine a St Andrews, horizontal on short legs. Each arm of the cross was about 12 inches wide and was made up of a solid centre piece between two rims. The middle section was slightly wider and about long enough to support the back of anyone laying on it, or chest and abs if lying face down. At the end of each arm was a steel shackle, welded in place. The whole thing looked gorgeous in highly polished steel, but it wasn’t exactly a novel design.

“You know, I think I’ve seen similar before, Douggie old mate.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, old mate,” he answered sarcastically. “Jump on.”

I grimaced a bit as my butt felt the cold steel and a bit more as I lay down on my back. Then he went to work. He didn’t explain a lot, he never did. He simply and carefully started to lock me down in position. First my wrists were pulled up on each of the two top arms and the steel shackles were locked over them. He had been meticulous in making sure they were as smooth and well finished as anything could be. There were no rough edges, all the corners had been well rounded so however tightly they enclosed your wrist you’d never get a graze or cut from them.

After my arms were locked in place, he pulled at my legs and did the same to my ankles. I was now stretched out horizontally in an X shape, staring at the ceiling.

“Now the good bits,” Doug said. “There’s a lot more to this baby than meets the eye.”

Oh fuck, I thought. Not again. His last cage with internal bars and spikes, which could be moved from the outside, was fine until it stuck shut with me inside. Seventeen hours cramped, doubled over with a metal dildo rammed up my arse while he tried to release me without damaging the cage was not something I wanted to repeat.

“First of all,” he went on, “the legs are hydraulic. I can raise you to approximately table height or as you are now, about six inches off the ground.” He switched something on the remote he held, and I started to rise slowly. It stopped when I was about three feet off the ground. My face was now level with the bulge in his jeans.

“Now we can see the accessories.”

I hated this bit. The gleam in his eye and the bulge in his pants meant he was getting off on this, as I also hoped to, but I was still a bit uncertain.

He walked out of my line of sight and I heard him return with arms full of extra bits and pieces.

“Now this, Sammy, my little gym bunny, is what makes it more interesting. But first things first. After all that time sweating under those weights and body building machines you use, this should be easy peasy.”

He plugged a lead into the base of the bit I was stretched out on. “Ready?”

Like I had an option. With a small whirring noise, each of the shackles started to pull in opposite directions. The middle section on which each one was welded slid very slowly and smoothly away from the centre base.

“You remember those medieval racks they used to torture guys on by stretching their limbs till they broke their sinews?”

“Jeez Doug, fuck that!” I yelled.

“No worries, Sam, I want your income.” He smiled. “This is a very sensitive machine. I can set it at a certain level where it will cut out. In your case, as you’re such a weed, I set it at only 10 pounds for each limb. Nothing really.”

Sure enough, the shackles very slowly pulled me to where I felt some pressure but was far from painful.

“I can dial up anything between 10 and 100 pounds for each limb on this one, just need to know if I go higher or not. But first the ‘accessories.’” He said it with that gleam in his eyes again. “I’ll let you see what’s going on for now but will deal with it a bit later on.”

Remember, the position I was in meant I couldn’t see at all well. I had to trust him, totally!

He screwed and bolted bits under and across the whole body of the thing. One steel bar went across my chest, another just above my cock. A similar length of metal joined the two up the centre of my stomach and chest.

He stopped and stood next to me. Bending down he looked straight into my eyes and kissed me lightly, then deeply, pushing his tongue inside my mouth and slowly tracing his right hand down my abs until he held my fast stiffening cock. A few slow wanks and he had me exactly where he wanted me, hard as rock.

“I knew you could do that for me,” he said. He turned, picked up a metal tube with fixings and leads on it and showed me.

“This is the pleasure part,” he said. “It’s lined with soft inflatable rubber and will fit tightly over your cock now it’s hard.” With that he pushed it down onto me. I nearly came on the spot, but the cold lube inside it stopped me. A few seconds later it was locked onto the strap he had fixed there.

“Now the other half of the fun.” He showed me a metal butt plug. It was smooth and shiny like all his work but was bigger than I liked to think I’d accommodate.

“I’m sorry we haven’t had time to loosen you up, kiddo, but I’ve lubed this to buggery,” he laughed at his own joke, “so grit your teeth for a minute, it’ll be worth it.”

I shut my eyes and gritted! He pushed and twisted the plug, I yelled, he pushed hard and ‘phlat!’ my arse finally closed over it with a smack. I had tears in my eyes and promised myself some revenge later.

“Now, these two items can also be connected to the machine’s workings. I’ve geared the connections to work in combination with the four arms of the table. If I reset things —” he clicked his hand set and the shackles swiftly returned to the rest position, “I’ll just connect them.”

The next thing I knew the tube over my hard-on inflated to grip me and started to suck gently as the butt plug began to move in and out, slowly and almost imperceptibly, just enough to make you feel it.

“See, Sammy, the gears work everything. As your limbs are pulled in each direction you get sucked and fucked at the same time. Everything is on a timer and will end when the restraints reach their set limit. Then they reset and everything starts up again. I’ve programmed it so that each time it resets it adds to the final tension by 10 pounds, so the second time you’ll be pulled to 20 and so on. There’s a contact inside that tube that detects when you cum, just make sure you pump it out, as it will then end the program, I hope. One thing, though, each cycle is a bit faster than the one before so just make sure you cum before you get too tall.” He laughed again.

“Oh, and the deluxe model will have this as well.” He now produced the most beautiful shiny steel head cage. “I’ll fit this so you’ll be more comfortable. It will help support your head.” He clamped the cage over my head in two parts. “It has fittings for blindfold and gag,” he said. When it was screwed together he joined it to the centre strap up my chest and held my head just as he had promised so I no longer had to either look at the floor behind me upside down or hold my neck up to see him.

“Just to add the gag,” he reached over and pushed the rubber dildo into my mouth, which was riveted to a metal plate which in turn screwed to the cage. “And the blindfold.” This was a soft leather backing on another metal plate which fixed to the cage.

Slapping me on the chest, he said, “OK, Metal Man, I’ve set the machine to run for a couple of hours, slow speed. Of course it’ll stop if you finally cum before that, but don’t count on it. I reckon you’ll get upwards of 50 pounds on those muscles of yours before you’re let off the hook.”

He turned the control and the gears started to whirr almost silently, very, very slowly pulling, sucking and fucking me. Their sound was covered by my muffled yells and his laughter anyway, and I never heard him shut the door behind him.

Sbb 17


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


6 thoughts on “Doug’s Machine”

  1. Great story! I have always loved themes invoking the merciless of machines, ever since an old, old story in Drummer or Bound and Gagged had one with machines. Thank you.

  2. Love this – certainly want to read more. Also if anyone’s building machines like this and needs a tester…

  3. There needs to be an accessory attachment on the bar running up his chest that will pinch and pull on his nipples/tits. The clamps also increase the pressure and tension in sync with the stretching of the limbs.

    I’ll volunteer to be the test subject for this new model.

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