Franki
I like to tinker.
I'm a tinkerer at heart. I love fixing broken things. People I barely know bring me stuff to look at. Some of it is worthwhile some of it is junk.
A few years ago a guy I know who has a small holding brought me a milking machine. He looked a bit sad and said I don't suppose you'll be able to do much with it, promptly turned tail and left me with it.
There was next to nothing wrong with it other than a two-way valve on the vacuum line that was bunged up with goo, probably sour milk. I cleaned it up, left it in my workshop, left him a message and went fishing.
When I got home, three days later, it was still there. With visions of exploding cows in my mind, I phoned the guy and told him the good news that it was working. The conversation went something like this.
"I've fixed your milking machine"
"I've got a new one says he."
"What to do with this", says I.
"What do I owe you for it?"
"Oh, just a pint or two."
"I'll pop round sometime soon and pick it up. I'll see you right for a beer or two down at the Horseshoes!"
The next week he won the lottery and I never saw him again. The mean bugger never did get me that pint.
The other use I put my skills to is much more nefarious. I do like a bit of kink. I make very good, mostly stainless steel bondage gear.
I've been divorced for 15 years now I have tried dating, but my daughters fix me up with their mates divorced and widowed mums. My friend's wives try to fix me up with their friends.
I think they all think I'm much too happy looking after myself. Being on my own my kink involves a fair helping of self-bondage and self-stimulation. I'm happy with that.
I have a time-lock key safe I made myself it has two doors and two separate time locks. It has never let me down and I am still fully confident in it and I have a backup as well.
Franki is my very attractive rockabilly post-lady. She calls every day if I have post or not. She likes the coffee I make. Also, she looks very good in her post office uniform. To be honest she would look good in a sack!
We go to dances together, we love to jive, she is very good and I can just about keep up with her. I bought her a very expensive silk bra, knickers and suspenders belt set with very black seemed stockings for her last birthday.
She wears retro underwear all the time. She knows about my kink, she once brought me a package that had burst open. It contained a chastity belt I had made. I was coming back for alterations, to make it fit the customer's shape and not what she wished her shape was.
We had talked about stuff including my self-bondage a little. I had an understanding she would help if things went wrong but she did not want to join in as she said she didn't like sex much. Franki was like me happily unmarried. She was a divorcee as well.
She had been married to a seemingly decent enough guy but, like me, the flame just went out. I had never made a pass as with a name like Franki I thought she may be batted for the other side as we northerners say. I didn't believe her about not liking sex, I thought she just didn't like sex with men.
I'd been surfing porn on the internet. I had come across a new wanking machine that was out for sale for a couple of hundred quid so was trying to check it out.
I came upon a clip of a pro domme with a TV Gurl, the clip, was mostly a TV gurl strapped to a couch and a converted milking machine connected to a rather impressive nob.
Well, that got me thinking. I'm not going into bit-by-bit details but after a rummage around in my junk room I found the old milking machine. I made a cock tube from stainless and Perspex with silicon rubber seals made from stretchy food covers. and a 36mm silicon rubber tube. It wasn't too difficult.
Making one for a pro-Domme to use would be much harder as mine only had to fit only me. I had to buy the silicone tube and some switching devices, I also needed some vacuum/air tube and fittings. I got a secondhand air receiver from my local scrap man to use as a vac accumulator. eBay and PayPal also supplied a bloody big bottle of silicon lube.
I make chastity belts for both men and women so always have bits about and all the engineering machinery I need. The reversing valve took a bit of working on, I had to buy a new shuttle for that so I could adjust stroke length but everything else was adapted.
I found a good heavy-weight lifting bench on my local Facebook selling pages. It was going for a song, I fitted it with medical-grade restraints I had found when I helped a mate clear out an old mental hospital. These were obviously pretty good stuff and without help, you were not walking away from them.
In the film clip, the TV girl wriggled around a lot, I didn't want that I like to be as near immobile as possible when I'm in bondage.
My escape method was the right-hand cuff. It was anchored to the weight bench by a powerful electromagnet. That was powered by mains voltage which was controlled by two separate solenoid switches.
Each solenoid switch had a 0 to 24-hour timer. When either timer completed its set period its solenoid dropped out killing the power and the electromagnet released my right hand.
Finally, I'd got the whole job finished and was ready to road-test my new contraption.
Franki, was, as always, my ultimate final safety net. I let her know the shadowy details. She thought it sounded fun. She never got to mine before 12.30, usually about 1.30 and never later than 2.00 pm. I live in an old farmhouse 500 yards through woods, along my own private drive.
So at 11.00, I was ready to rock. I had set one timer for sixty minutes and the other for sixty-five. I had tested everything 50 times at least. I had assembled the toys I was planning to use and had set the milking machine up.
After seeing the TV girl in the film clip I bought a rubber underbust corset, Franki had delivered it a week ago and I had managed to keep my hands off it until now. I had studied YouTube clips on how to lace yourself into a corset and it went surprisingly well.
I buckled my legs into the cuffs and tightened the knee and thigh straps. The cock tube hung on a length of bungee chord from an arm screwed to the wall and was adjusted so the silicon seal held my shaft just behind my glands, the sheath just brushing against my glands.
I switched the machine on, the vacuum pump started and as a result, the tube pulled its way down my shaft. I'm fairly well blessed in that department so adjusted the stroke to about 5 inches and slowed it right down.
This is how it all works.
My cock is constantly under varying degrees of vacuum, always a little.