I didn’t think places like this actually existed, or if
they did, I figured Berlin, San Francisco, Amsterdam,
some other den of sin, sodomy and vice… but
Melbourne? Well, there I was so there you go.
To be fair the ‘dungeon’ I was housed in was just a
converted brick garage on a half-acre block in the
inner eastern suburbs, not actually within the bowels
of some gothic castle. But it is quite surprising what
you can do with some velvet hangings, soft leather
couches/benches obviously taken from a home gym, mood
lighting and the like.
I was in a cage, covered with a dark blanket that
didn’t – a little bit to my astonishment – smell of
either sweat or Rocky. I could obviously see nothing, and
not feel much; if I reached out to the front, sides,
behind and even above me I could feel the metal bars
and beyond the rough cotton of the blanket. Beneath me
some kind of pillow was making things a little more
comfortable for my arse, which was welcome, given that
Mistress Cassandra had already given me a general ‘I’m
horny so you bleed’ beating this afternoon.
Not that I mind or even am I complaining, gosh no! My
cunt drips just at the thought of those afternoon
before a big night out torture sessions. However if I
was going to sit in the dark I preferred to relax and
meditate, all the better to keep my body in pristine
condition to please whoever required it tonight.