So here I am, it’s Friday and I am trotting down the stone stairs into the cellar bar, my boots thumping as I go down. Back in my thick leather bulldog chest harness and 20-hole black boots all covered by Camo trousers and a Levi jacket over a white T shirt.
At the bottom is an appointment with a tight steel gibbet cage. Last weekend I had spent a night in it; after a play session Ryan the barman had slept the sleep of the unjust in front of me while an Estim box had zapped pads all over my body at 30-second intervals. I had been twitching and writhing as much as the steel embrace allowed – which was virtually not at all! My cock was tired and sore after the evening’s entertainment but had still been pushing hard against the spikes in a chastity cage Ryan had locked on as he released me from ‘The Shed.’ I had ‘Mmmrrrpphh’ed all night through a rubber tongue gag unable to wake him and get him to turn the fucking thing off! The next morning he had commented that it was a good thing that pre-cum was not toxic to stainless steel, judging by the amount that I had dribbled onto the solid steel of the cage.