Moondancing

When the Covid-19 stay-home orders went out I shivered with panic. Would they close the Jungle? Would I be forced to go cold-turkey and stay home to play with myself? Yikes!

Fortunately a few brave souls put their heads together and set up a dungeon in a basement and sent around a open invitation to attend the grand opening of Steve's Retreat. Everyone had to sign waivers but this was a mask-free venue and nobody took your temperature when you came through the door. It was refreshing and thus far I haven't heard anything about the virus rearing its ugly head in our hedonistic crowd.

I'd become the personal plaything of Master Jon and he accompanied me to the opening. "Are you going to give me head tonight?" he asked as we rang the doorbell of the mid-century ranch on a quiet cul-du-sac.

"If it would please you, Sir," I said with a grin. He preferred I call him Master, but I held on to some of my independence and called him Sir instead. It gave him a reason to punish me from time to time, and his punishments could be quite orgasmic.

Steve, our Dungeon Master, was a well-built and well-endowed man in his mid to late fifties. He greeted all his guests in the nude and asked them all to remove their clothing before making their way down to the dungeon. We undressed and went down the stairs into a murky space that was damp and chilly as most basements are. I saw that Steve had gone all out in his furnishing of the dungeon and was impressed with the variety of stocks from those that forced the supplicant to their knees to those that forced them to stand on their tip toes.

Two racks filled the center of the room with shackles on the four posts at the corners. I didn't see any wheels so I didn't suspect either one was for stretching and dismembering a victim. They all sat at a height so a woman could easily be fisted or screwed with little discomfort to the fister or screwer. On one concrete wall hung iron rings with more shackles and several men and women already filled them and were being whipped with leather flails or riding crops.

Inside two large kennel cages I saw two women with men around them tossing out humiliating names and phrases. The men weren't holding back, insulting the women's anatomy and telling them what they intended to do to them once they'd been released.

My master grinned. "I think I'm gonna put you in one of those and have you suck me off along with anyone else who wants you to do him."

I rolled my eyes in the dark room. "Bring it on, Sir if that would please you, Sir." I enjoyed playing the game of Master/slave with him. His cock was magnificent and I'd experienced some of my most memorable orgasms since hooking up with him.

Steve found us at the bar later in the evening. "Do you find my creation here satisfactory, Master Jon?" he asked without taking his eyes off my breasts. Doesn't he want to know what I think? His hand eventually reached out to stroke a nipple. "Would you mind if I put your bitch in the stocks and started a line?" he asked. "I think she'd be quite the draw tonight and I'd comp you all your drinks for the rest of the night." Great! I do all the work and Jon gets the damned booze. How is that fair?

Master Jon smiled. "She's all yours, Steve, and the place is really great."

Steve took me by the nipple and tugged me toward the stocks that forced me to my knees. "This way my guests can partake of the hole in the front or the ones from the back," he said with a chuckle. "I hope that's all right with you."

"As if you'd care if it weren't," I said. "Master Jon gave you permission to use me, so that should be all that counts."

Steve grinned as he secured my head and wrists in the stocks. "So true," he said, "So very true."

Thankfully a foam pad lie between my knees and the concrete floor.

"Is she for the taking, man?" a pale, balding, heavy-set man that reminded me of the Michelan man asked as he began to knead my breasts as though he were a baker kneading bread dough.

"Front or back? Steve asked.

"Does it make a difference?" the man asked as he found her nipples and began to twist.

"Because I'm taking the one you don't want," Steve told him with a wink at me. "I've been in her mouth before," Steve told the man "and the bitch can do things with her tongue that'll send you into space, man."

The man positioned himself in front of me, and grabbed my hair as Steve found my ass cheeks and spread them apart. Michalen Man moaned and groaned with pleasure as I used my tongue and before long a line of men hoping to experience the same had formed behind him.

One of those was Master Jon. "I think I'll take that head now," he laughed. "It sounds to me like you've been holding out so give me your best like you've been giving these other asshats or I'm gonna have to punish you."

I grinned up at him. "You promise?"