More from Julia The basement room couldn't fairly be called a dungeon, I don't suppose, for it was brightly lit and warm.More from Julia The basement room couldn't fairly be called a dungeon, I don't suppose, for it was brightly lit and warm. The floor was even carpeted, mainly I think because Master likes me on my knees and doesn't like for my legs to be scratched up. But it had many of the accoutrements of a dungeon, a whipping post, a spanking bench, rings on one wall to which he sometimes tied me, and a wall covered with instruments of torture which he knew how to use with great effectiveness. There were various short posts that he had implanted in the floor of the room which he could use to tie my limbs or the limbs of his other slaves to from time to time and for various reasons. At one end of the room was a mattress which had four such posts around it, one at each corner. Under the mattress Master had installed the piston portion of a hydraulic lift, which when activated pushed the center of the mattress up into the air. It was, I think, the feature of which he was most proud, and he often used it. The whipping post was one of the basement support posts, but Master had installed wrist cuffs just above the level of my head on the post and had also situated two smaller posts on either side of the support to which he often bound my ankles. The spanking bench brought a mixture of emotions to me as I looked at it with remembrance. It was shaped somewhat like a saw- horse used in construction work, but it had a semi-round leather pad across the top of it which was padded just enough to make laying on it relatively comfortable. |