The Gents Club

Eight o'clock and the knock at the door. I love to hear the deep wooded tone of brass on one place, specially hardened to stand the years of gentlemen seeking entry. 

I open it, a fine looking fellow, perhaps just past thirty strides in. I take his hat, his overcoat, his umbrella, furled as it was not raining.
"Mr. Evans, so good of you to favour us with your company. Kind of you to make time in what I'm sure is your very busy schedule."
He smiled, agreed, commented on the weather and then I offered him something to drink. We have very fine single malt whiskeys, I'm particular proud of our selection of ports and Brandies.....what was his pleasure?

"Thomas, is it?, I'll leave that to you. You know your cellar and I do not, rather to take something from the hands of a master sommelier than foolishly ask for something that turns out to be plonk."
"Quite agree Sir, and thank you for your complimentary words. If you'll just give me a moment, I''ll make a selection. Do, Sir, feel free to glance at our library here, I'm told, of its type, it's one of the finest in the world."

On the screen showing his movements I can see he's picked up a book from a table that was not left there by chance. Impossible to avoid noticing that the bulge in his trousers seems to be expanding and I'm just waiting until.....he turns the page. He's done it, sweat almost immediately appears, Oh he's interested, they always are. Will he take it back to the chair and sit with it in his lap covering what is now almost as large as two mens fist, one on each side of his zipper? However, if he turns the next page, and he will, he'll deflate almost immediately. Rustling slightly to give hint of my approach, he replaces the book and, as I enter, would seem to be reading the spines of some  other books.

"As you said, Thomas, a truly amazing collection. However were they got?"
"Members, Sir, all through our membership although on occasion we would be offered something and if the Board of Governors thought it worthwhile, we'd make the purchase. "

I proffered the tray with the Brandy balloon on it. "To your taste, Sir?"
"I'm sure I've had this before, I like a Brandy with authority as this one has."
"We always say we regret to tell people that that one is French in origin, a fine old Calvados. Sharp to the tongue, the taste of apples distinct but not to overwhelm the basic smooth woodiness of the apple wood tree."

He sipped, taking a bit more, I suggested a second, he accepted, "Would you care to remove your suit coat, Sir?" It was handed over. Almost automatically he undid the top two buttons on his shirt, seemed to relax, stood and returned to the book. I knew he would make it to pages four through six. I waited as he got to them, studied them, took a large swallow of the Brandy, almost draining the glass and that's when I appeared with the whole bottle. "Some find the label interesting, clearly nothing modern or recent about it".

"Thomas, "\
"Sir?"
"This book seems very out of place for this sort of establishment. This is for gentleman and, in here, clearly are no gentlemen."
"Ah, yes, you are correct but.....some of the illustrations are of members, no longer members of course but the Governors found it best to acquire it, keep it from public hands. Surely you will understand. What, Sir, if your photograph were to be in that book?".
"That wouldn't be possible, why I have my position to consider, my work, these men are engaged in, well, sexual acts doesn't even begin to express....."
"No, Sir, you're quite right, you would never appear in such a book doing the sort of sordid thing....and yet...sometimes when I look at it and them, they do seem to be rather enjoying themselves......"

He finished that balloon of Brandy, poured out another, rather a large one and returned to the book. Pages nine and on. He sat down, the book in his lap, drawn to it, now curious if anyone he knew might just possibly be in it. 

The door to the next room opened, Pablo stepped out, all smiles, in the pure white of a fine masseur.
"Is Sir ready for his treatment? No urgency, Sir, ready at your convenience. "
"Now is fine." He headed for Pablo, dropping the book in a chair. "Really, even if it has members, it's disgusting to so openly display it."
He handed me his glass and walked away.

The door closed quietly behind the two men. I put the book back in its customary position looking like nothing more than an innocent coffee table decoration, perhaps a book on architecture in Kent.

In the room they both stopped. It was not quite the typical place in a "massage parlour" more of an extension of the bedroom of a fine gentleman, a place where his man could rub out the aches and pains that automatically follow playing polo or help put some of the little green men in the bottle from which they came the night before.  Adjacent to the table were a chair as well as a bureau on wheels, clearly carrying the tools of the trade of an artful masseur. And  Pablo was an expert. One could be forgiven if the whole atmosphere was reminiscent of a billiards or snooker room. One large light over the table, just no serried ranks of seat going up to give the observer a better view of the play.  The light was just short of being the length and width of the table. Subdued as if a game were to be played lacking only the intense green reflection common to surfaces covered in very green baize. This surface was grey and, when you felt it, lightly padded. 

Pablo extended the chair. "Your clothes sir. Place your boots on the seat and, when you're on the table I'll hand this on to Thomas for all to be pressed and shined. It is presumed here that nudity is expected....should that cause you alarms......" But the man shook his head and smiled at what a foolish convention, clothed whilst having a massage? Ridiculous.

It was and was not a standard massage table. Longer, wider and more padded but these were only variances, if this masseur knew his business, he wouldn't care. 

From boarding school on he'd a routine for undressing, odd, he had a chair much like this one at home, his dressing chair he called it. Coat first, then his boots, in buckle the belt, remove his tie and fold it three times, unbutton three of his shirt buttons, unbuttoned the waistband of his trousers, finished unbuttoning the shirt, removed his studs, removed the trousers then his socks and finally his briefs, small, almost transparent, white. The last was different from school, there everyone wore a sort of boxer that could barely be got under his shorts so, when he was away from school, he'd switched to a bikini brief, very brief really. His genitals were in bas relief. 

Pablo stood beside the table, ready to assist him up and perched him on the edge; There was some few questions.
"Are you sensitive to pressure or do you have areas on your body of which I should be respectful?"
"No."
"Our treatments are not of any particular length, just what the gentleman and I feel is good for them and satisfying. I assume you have no further plans for the evening?"
There was no answer so Pablo continued.
"About the genitals. This is a full body massage and in the course of it some contact with your man parts is unavoidable. My men usually get an erection, certainly to be expected, and they always request that I resolve the problem in my own way. I'm told it's satisfying and pressure relieving."
"Uh, well, yes, certainly, I would always expect to have what the other men have." He paused. "I mean, that is, you would relieve me by causing an ejaculation by using your hand."
"Yes sir, that's exactly it, No offense but most men have done similar by themselves, some say being in the hand of another man is quite good."
He remembered how true that was....doing nasty things with other men, he clearly remembered and the day he resolved to stop. How long ago? Now he was here and, probably would have done to him what he had done to others then abstained, was now to be done to him as a routine part of a massage. That was alright, that was safe, perfectly reputable place for gentleman, highest reputation, having his sperm removed professionally, if you thought of it that way was almost a medical procedure. Like having your nose drained if you were plagued with sinusitis.

Pablo did some stretching exercises then approached the naked  body in front of him. As a  blind person would "read" another to understand their face, their hands, Pablo moved his fingers lightly over finding the places where a muscle seemed too out of place, perhaps a tendon was taught. He asked the gentleman to turn over and repeated the process on the front of his body and, yes, did the same inquisitive feeling of his cock and balls but moved on down his legs. Embarrassingly, he felt an erection, he hadn't thought it would happen so quickly. 

Pablo noticed, put some oil in his hand and seized the upright penis with a firm grip and using the good strokes, the ones that could be felt deeply, he started to relieve the build up of sperm and tension. Didn't take long, less than two minutes before the cock became a fountain of gooey, milky viscous fluid. 

"Been a while, sir, I'll wager, does a man good to relieve himself at least several times a week. Glad to get you started back on doing something good for yourself. Probably happen a time or two more, nothing to distress yourself about, after abstinence, that's what happens. Get it all cleaned out, let those testicles get back to their proper work and all will be as right as rain, Sir."

It had felt good and the mention of some several more was encouraging. He could enjoy himself with no recriminations. Like the other things but...not likely to happen here in an establishment for gentlemen. Pablo was involved with mixing oils, checking their viscosity or their slickness on the skin. The first and thickest oil always went in the hair, it gave the person, should they see it, the impression that their fast fading locks were...not so far gone as supposed. And if the oil was worked in, then maybe the look of fullness could be contained. For a time.

Pablo had started on a leg and was applying the pressure of his two palms on the perimeter then drawing them together then back. Going back to the feet, he worked the soles with a dexterity that had to be felt. The gentleman had never had that done and made a note, while he could still maintain cogent thought given the overload of pleasure, to have that  done again.
"Just going to hang some weights around your ankles sir, helps to stretch the calf muscles. The manacles were loosely fastened, the chains to which they would be attached lay under the covering of the foot rest one used to climb up onto the table. There was another foot step on the front with the chains under the surface. 

Pablo was working up his legs, always go toward the heart someone had once said, maybe it was true. His good thighs, meaty but muscled were getting a firm, rolling palm and then the knuckles, felt great. But. what happened next was open to question. As smoothly as he explained everything, next it was time for the cavity, his ass, to be serviced but  before, all the gentleman liked to be a bit opened, made it easier for them and Pablo, nothing much really, just a simple, round dowel that was introduced, greased of course, until it touched the place by the prostate. He wasn't given much time to think or respond before he felt a warmed instrument slide into him. Pablo commented, without an opinion, that it was good to find men who'd had their ass opened and frequently. Made the massage better for them. 

He wanted to crawl away and become fungus. Well, the truth was that he had taken up his bucket....more than a few times. Facts were that he was almost a slave to his hole and the men who would fill it for him. But here, in this private, invitation only establishment, to be found out....He mumbled something that was both an explanation and an apology.

"No need, Sir, no need at all. What makes a man comfortable, happy, give him that good feeling, then that's what he ought to do. It would be my pleasure Sir, indeed it would, to give you a taste of what I can do, got a fair number of compliments I have."
He assumed that a positive response was given as it always was.
"Now, Sir, on your belly and stretch out your arms, feel that pull along the tendons right into the fingers...Very good. I'll just add some weights to help stretch you out. Good."
There were chains that substituted for weights but without seeing them, one couldn't know. Pablo reached back, removed the dildo from his ass then quickly replaced it with another, larger one, warmed, almost soft feeling. Mr. Evans thought of a man he'd once partnered for a few months...the feeling of fullness, the warmth, all so relaxing. 

"Now, Sir,  we're going to need you on your back while I work on your chest, just easily roll....that's it, don't mind the weights, they work just as well no matter which side you're on." He quietly pressed a button that quietly turned a roller that drew the chains a bit shorter, not that Mr. Evans would notice. Yet.
"Ready for another relieving the reservoir yet, Sir?" And slowly rubbed the cock that had never quite got soft. No answer so Pablo began. "Sir, we have a special, just made for us, appliance that we find induces a far greater ejaculation. I'll just slip it over your manly bit and....just pull your scrotum through this ring, it anchors the sack around your cock.:" He quietly took two lead wires, one for the cock cover and the other for the ring about the balls. "Very good, Sir? Comfortable? Lets see what we can produce." He flicked a switch causing a very low current to start to flow into the cock and out the ring around the nuts. Warming, the pressure on his now very engorged penis was almost forcing him to blow his man juice. He was moaning slightly, moving his hips just a bit, becoming really involved in what was going on. 

Pablo left him to enjoy himself while he quietly raised two rollers to which the sets of chains were attached. Just a touch more pull on the chains, nothing too noticeable, just so that his man would know the "weights" were still there. He also pulled off his white shirt and pants leaving him in a leather jock strap. The lights were lowered slightly except for one over the table. Mr. Evans lost in his pleasure was oblivious to any changes, only that he was awfully grateful for the invitation and certainly hoped he'd be approved for membership....if that included access to Pablo, it was well worth the few quid a week. 

One change he did begin to notice, the padded surface on which he'd been laying seemed to have been removed to be replaced by what felt like wooden slats. He almost asked but....his cock answered a question by drooling precum. Pablo quietly put a blinder over his eyes, one filled with a  cooling gel, so good, so relaxing for one. There seemed to be no point in opening them. Whatever was going on was being done for him and him alone. 

Pablo slipped the very large nipple rings onto his chest, added leather gauntlets and a leather bishops helmet with the lips sealed and only the eyes open. Mr. Evans was about to be awakened to a new reality. 

The chains were now turning faster, drawing the arms and legs taut, beyond taut to painful. The rack on which he was laying had a heating element in it making it very hot. 

Mr. Evans suddenly came to realize that he wasn't receiving a massage, he was being torn apart. Trying to shake his head to remove the blind he found he couldn't. The cuff around his cock grew tighter as did the ring around his nut sack. He opened his mouth to scream but a gag, made like a cock was slipped in and tied around his head to assure it would stay there. He was sweating, the hair in his arm pits were dripping, his chest was bleeding sweat. Pablo attached the nipple clamps then added their wires to the ones already attached to the machine. He made some changes in settings and presently Mr. Evans felt his nipples being roasted with electricity as they jumped in time to the varying currents and levels. 

The cameras had been set up for the still photographs, the video cameras had been working since he walked into the room. It was now time for him to see as well as feel his new situation. Pablo ripped off the blind, grabbed his hair, lifted his head and let him look right into the camera. He could also see Pablo or, as he was sometimes referred to by aficionados of this kind of punishment, El Diablo. He took out his upper denture and replaced it with one that had steel teeth some of which had been sharpened. Mr. Evans looked in panic and pain around himself and found...nothing that would help him. The chains were stretching him to the point certain joints felt as if they might pop. His head heard something, something familiar, clippers. His head was to be shaved!! Forgetting about what was happening to him, he saw his life, his well ordered, perfectly regulated life being destroyed as the clippers worked around his ears, across his forehead...a hand felt the slight burr that was left and, again, the clippers as his groin was peeled. 

Hot, in terrific pain, confused, not knowing what might happen and if he'd get out alive regardless of his altered appearance....that's when the sound of a whip being tried, the crack at the end as it broke the sound barrier, the first lashing as it went across his muscular thighs, his abdomen, his electrified nipples. Then from the other side, this time with a cat, small lead balls tied in the end of each leather strip that comprised the nine tails. Slower but just as effective, he was whipped one way and then another. The electric points were removed only to allow a bucket of cold water to be thrown on him followed by another. 

He was at the maximum stretch on the rack though he did not know it. Now the photographer moved in for close ups of his suffering, his genitals his face contorted with fear and pain, the cock gag stuck in his mouth but outside, to complete it, a pair of balls any man would be proud of. Pictures of hair on the floor, his almost naked flesh where the hair had been. Pablo placing an elastrator around his balls, picture of them as they changed colour. That was removed just before it could have done damage. 

And then it was quiet. Only the slight creak of the chains stretching him plus the sound, if it had one, of sweat hitting the floor. Of course his moaning which was ongoing but otherwise, the room was silent, seemed like a vault, no movement of air. A sharp pain in his ass. Sleep.

How long can time be when you have no notion that it's passing? Mr. Evans found himself returning the room he remembered, on the table he remembered, Pablo in his whites. No chains, no anything attached to him. He could move but...just for a moment only laying there while time sorted itself out. He looked at Pablo who smiled his pleasant smile, asked him if he wished to be helped down. His clothes were neatly pressed and on a gentleman's dressing stand, the shirt and the coat across the top, the pants folded over the cross piece, his under wear and socks on the seat, his shoes, well shined on the floor. 

He looked at Pablo, almost fearing that this was a trick, he was to be tempted to dress but before he could get to his clothing, something...he didn't know what, would happen. He took a tentative step toward them and then another. More quickly than usual he was able to dress and was sitting on the chair tying his shoes when Pablo approached with a leather bound volume. 

"Some photos to help you remember your evening with us. As with all our members, we keep these as sort of a souvenir and an encouragement to you to return for....appointments when you're needed. Evans was almost afraid to accept the book much less look in it, he felt he knew the contents and also knew another book in which one or more casual snaps of him might soon appear. 

Pablo ever smiling handed him an envelope. "This contains your statement for your membership also a time for your next appointment. We feel that you and Mr. Brandford would make an interesting study for our cameras. I look forward to seeing your then...."

On the street he felt the chilly air on his now bald head but looked back at the imposing structure, his new Gentlemen's Club in London and shuddered. He could only imagine what his next appointment might consist of but of one thing he was sure, it was an appointment he could not afford to miss.