Uncle James came back into the room and unlocked the cage. Pulling my leash he led me through the house to the basement door. I hadn’t been down there since before he built his office. Opening it he motioned me down the step. It was dark, the only light coming from behind me, illuminating the stairs. I reach the bottom and realise Uncle James hasn’t moved. I turn to look up at him but cannot see his face. Suddenly light blinds me. I blink and rub at my eyes as they adjust and I glance around the room. Gasping I fall to my knees and sob “Why are you doing this to me?” He had led me to a torture chamber. Everywhere I looked, I could see intimacy gadgets and instruments. It was a dungeon, the kind I had only ever read about in books. From various hooks on the walls hung paddles and whips, handcuffs and gags. On table tops sat dildos and butt plugs, beads and nipple clamps. But there were also things I didn’t recognise. Dominating the room were two large pieces of furniture. I large metal table with restraints attached to the corners and a horse, kind of like that piece of gym apparatus that you had to jump over at school. Only this one had restraints and a large fleshy Love Machine. From the ceiling hung a circular hoop and a bar and various small hoops stick up around the floor and out of the walls.

I looked up at the man I could no longer think of as Uncle James. He was a stranger in my eyes. He was watching my reaction, enjoying it. Slowly he made his way down to me. I was kneeling on the floor so I had to look up to him as he grabbed my leash and dragged me over to the table.

“Strip.” He commanded. I obeyed.

Once I was naked again he told me to stand as he moved the restrains. He slide the rope hoops closest to us down the legs of the table and lifted my feet into them. I stated mumbling. Begging him not to do this to me. He didn’t listen. Once I was securely tied, he pushed my top half forward. I gasped at the feel of the cold metal against my skin and nipples. He walked around in front of me and pulled my arms up to the edge, looping the ropes around my wrist. I couldn’t move, helps, exposed, vulnerable.


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