It would be true to say that until last weekend my dungeon experience was zero. Save of course, the real life underground places found in medieval castles. Cold, and bleak the castle dungeon was the place prisoners were tortured and kept until they died. This is the kind of environment often depicted in BDSM stories and tumblr films; a modern torture chamber.
Our overnight stay for Master’s birthday last Friday, took place in the converted lower level of a suburban house. The window blinds visible from outside hide the warm, red interior. Most of the ground floor of the house was a large single room containing seats, benches, hoists, and a range of toys and equipment. At the far end, a four-poster bed with red bedding. No ordinary four poster bed, the rings attached to the frame were ready to take the chains and cuffs of bondage. What is more, there was a mirrored ceiling, perfect for both the eexhibitionist and voyeur.
But this wasn’t just a room for play, torture and fun. There was also a well equipped kitchen, spacious bathroom and outside a hot tub. While our stay was to celebrate his birthday, and he certainly enjoyed himself, it was also a place of exploration for me, his slave.
Friday night contained many firsts; of being tied to a St Georges cross, of being secured to a spanking bench, of trying those mechanical fucking machines. Flogged, slapped, stroked, fucked and for much of the time wearing the hood. Mirrors strategically placed meant that even through the small eye holes I could see his excitement and he chose the next implement with which to beat me. Plus the succession of porn movies showing on the TV screen. Sensory overload was inevitable.
The hot tub was wonderful, we used it soon after arrival and the following morning. The heat of the tub, combined with the cold of the spring air was amazing. We took food for dinner with us and enjoyed a kind of semi naked picnic, complete with sparkling wine. The fridge stocked with soft drinks and snacks meant we could keep ourselves hydrated.
A million miles from the cold, dark vision of a dungeon. This warm, red place was perfect. The Secret Dungeon. We emerged the following morning full of endorphins and I was deliciously sore. What more can a girl ask for?