The dungeon (standard:horror, 4834 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: May 19 2010	Views/Reads: 3208/2387	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
[CAUTION. ADULT CONTENT] Welcome to the dungeon, where pain is pleasure, or is it? Calvin is about to find out.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

she said, and continued talking on the telephone. 

Calvin walked across, entered, and found he was at the top of a set of
curving concrete stairs. The walls here were black, with amateurish 
flames painted at the base leading all the way down. He reached the 
bottom and found an open set of double-doors leading into a carpeted 
corridor. He saw a woman talking into a telephone on the left wall. She 
was nodding. “I know, yes”, she said, replacing the receiver. She 
turned and smiled at Calvin, then walked across. Calvin simply stared 
at her, already an erection beginning to push against the zip of his 
jeans. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, wore knee-length leather 
boots and black fish-net stockings with a red g-string. Her top simply 
consisted of a tight chainmail bra showing off her ample cleavage. On 
both her forearms she wore lace gauntlets. She had what looked to be a 
diamond naval stud, had a silver hoop ring in her bottom lip, and 
seemed to have over-done the eye-liner. Her hair was tied back in a 
pony-tail, and her caucasian complexion looked as though she had 
recently been on a sun-bed. She looked like the girl next door showing 
her true self. 

Proffering her delicately manicured hand, Calvin shook it. “You're the
reporter, right, come to do an article on the dungeon?” she said. 
Calvin nodded. “Yes, I'd like to take a few pictures and interview some 
of the workers and customers if that's ok?” “That's fine by me, and I'm 
sure by Madame Crush. She's busy with a customer at the moment” She 
gestured to a closed door, but he could not hear any sounds from 
within. “I'm not sure about the customers. My one o'clock is due in a 
minute. You can watch if you like, if he allows it. If not, there's 
nothing I can do”. Calvin took out his note-pad and pen. “Ok,” he said, 
“I'm sure Mistress Fox isn't your first name. What is and how old are 
you?” The wall-phone buzzed, but the woman did not answer it. “Ah, he's 
here”. A man in a police constable's uniform appeared at the doorway. 
Miss Fox smiled and walked across to him. The tall, dapper man, with 
his hat tucked under his arm, looked to be in his early forties. They 
talked for a few seconds, but Calvin couldn't make out what they were 
saying. They then approached a white door which Calvin was standing 
near. He was about to speak to the man when he spoke first: “No,” he 
said. “Like fuck. There's no way I'm answering your questions, and if 
you take a picture of me I'll have your fucking job, understand?” 
Calvin nodded. The man walked through the door. Miss Fox simply 
shrugged. “I'll see you later,” she said, “Look around, take your 
pictures, conduct interviews. I'll see you in an hour”. She followed 
the man in and closed the door, and Calvin was left in relative 
silence, looking up and down the corridor. There were six doors 
altogether, each, he assumed would accommodate a client, but he doubted 
that they were ever all occupied at the same time. 

The light-green painted walls featured many plaster wall casts of
various body parts, all of a sexual nature. Pert breasts next to an 
erect penis. Over-sized lips with jutting tongue next to smooth 
life-size buttocks and thighs. He took a few pictures, and saw that a 
door towards the end of the corridor was ajar. He walked across. A 
felt-pen had been written on it: ‘Store room'. He pushing it open, he 
was faced with a small room, with three shelves on every wall. 

With the camera ready, he walked in and gazed around at mouth gags,
hoist bars, anal beads, chastity belts, vibrators, and all manner of 
equipment designed to give pain, designed to give arousal. He took and 
few pictures and left, seeing he had fifty minutes left before he could 
see Mistress Fox. He didn't like to enter the other doors incase he was 
intruding, so instead decided to go back upstairs and interview those 
in the massage parlour. As he passed by the door where the policeman 
and Fox had entered he heard a loud smacking noise, followed by a cry 
of pain. “You're a naughty boy. What have I told you?”. There was 
another smack, and another cry of pain. 

He had not got much from the employees. They had not known to expect
him, and he almost felt quite intrusive as he took his pictures and 
notes, but he ended up in reception, sat on one of the chairs, watching 
the receptionist as she played pinball on the computer. He had asked 
her all he wanted to ask, and despite the occasional voice from beyond 
the doors, all he could hear was the clinking of the ball on the 
screen. He kept checking his watch. It was nearly time for the 
policeman's hour to be up. Calvin hoped he hadn't paid for more. “So,” 
he said. “How do you make your money? you're not exactly advertising 
yourself are you? There's not a flashing sign outside that says: ‘Come 
on in for a massage and a shag'”. The woman gave him a glance with an 
offended frown, but Calvin didn't read it. “Word of mouth,” she said, 
“Recommendations”. She looked back at her game as he jotted it down. He 
sighed and looked at his watch again. He decided to go and wait 
downstairs, and met the policeman on his way up. His face was flushed 
bright red, and tears streaked his cheeks. He pointed a finger at 
Calvin, accusingly. “Remember what I told you,” he said, his voice 
sounding upset, “If this gets out, I'll have you sacked, ok?” “It's 
alright. Fine. I won't say anything”. “Right”. He vanished through the 
door, and Calvin went down into the corridor where he saw Mistress Fox 
standing near the doorway, smiling at him. In her right hand, she held 
a chain whip. “Come in”, she said, and Calvin entered. 

The room was the size of two average-sized garages and was lit with a
naked bulb in the middle of the ceiling. The canvas floor was similar 
to that used in martial arts clubs, and the around the walls were 
various fetish contraptions and paraphernalia. “My two o'clocks due in 
five minutes,” she said. Calvin nodded towards the stairs with a 
puzzled expression, and Fox guessed he was asking about the policeman. 
“Adult baby,” she said, “Loves to be made to cry, loves to be smacked, 
likes me to beat him with a truncheon, well, takes all sorts” she said, 
and shrugged. “So do you enjoy it as well?” he asked. “Absolutely. 
Beating men is a personal fetish of mine”. She smiled. “Fancy a 
freebie?” she asked, holding up the whip. “Er no, can I take a few 
pic...?” A man walked in and stopped when he saw Calvin. “Ah, my two 
o'clock” said Fox. The man was wearing a light grey suit, and was a few 
inches smaller than the mistress, and looked to be in his early 
sixties. He was a lithe figure, the suit rather ill-fitting, like a 
tramp going for a job interview. He had a white beard that reached 
around two inches below his jaw. He stared at Calvin with trepidation. 
Fox answered his unasked questions. “This is Mr Lavelle from Dominator 
magazine. He's doing an article about us”. “Er, yes” said Calvin, 
stepping forward to shake the man's hand. “I wonder if you would be 
kind enough to allow me to take a few pictures of your session”. The 
man hesitated for a while, contemplating, looking at the mistress for 
any advice. “Alright, but on the condition you don't show my face in 
the magazine”. Calvin nodded. “Yes, OK, I just want to get a flavour of 
the type of things that go on here. Anyway, if I could take a few notes 
as well, that'd be great”. Calvin took out his note pad and pen. 
“What's your name?” “I hope you're not going to write it down for the 
magazine. Can you change it when it's printed?” “Sure”. “My real name's 
Arthur, but you can call me, er...Mr X in the article, or whatever”. 
“OK, and what do you work as?” “I'm a doctor, so you can appreciate why 
I'd like to keep my anonymity. I can't have my patients seeing the 
article. What would they think?” “Are you getting ready,” said Fox, 
pointing to a small curtained changing room, one of two in the far 
wall. As Arthur walked away, she crossed to the middle of the room and 
sat on what resembled a padded exercise bench. Calvin sat next to her, 
his pad held before him, nothing written. He couldn't help but stare at 
her tanned thighs. He tore his eyes away and smiled sheepishly at her. 
“So” he said. “You must get all types of people in here”. She nodded, 
and he reasoned that even her bobbing pony-tail was sexy. “We get them 
all,” she said. “Scientists. Judges. Gangsters, the lot”. He wrote it 
down, and stood up and turned away from her, more to hide his erection 
than anything else. “I'll just take a few snaps,” he said, checking his 
camera. He took one of a stainless steel table against the wall next to 
the changing rooms upon which were various tools a surgeon would use. 
They looked more like instruments of torture. Attached to the other 
wall were mounted shackles and chains. In one corner there were all 
kinds of rope heaped together. 

He took a few pictures, then Arthur walked out wearing a light blue
dressing gown. Fox stood up and approached a counter along the other 
wall, featuring all manner of equipment for all types of fetishes. She 
replaced the whip and picked up a studded paddle. She walked across to 
him and he took off the robe and threw it to the side. He stood there 
naked, except for a leather cock-ring and a watch. Calvin could see he 
was sporting an erection. Fox swung the paddle down to strike his 
‘bell-end'. Arthur cried in pain, crouching down. “You've been a bad 
fucker, haven't you?” said Fox, as a statement, grabbing his hair and 
tugging his head back. “Open your mouth cunt” she said. He did, and she 
spat in it. “Swallow”. He did. Still with her hand clasping what little 
hair he had, she forced him to the floor and began kicking him hard, in 
the stomach, thighs, back. “What are you?” she shouted. “Worthless” 
said Arthur, as she kicked him again. She then began beating him hard 
with the paddle. Calvin paced slowly around, taking a few pictures, but 
no notes. After one strike hit him hard in the face, she grabbed his 
hair again and dragged him towards the bench. Forcefully throwing him 
on it, she crossed to the counter and replaced the paddle. Calvin 
watched her as she fitted a strap-on harness with an eight-inch cream 
coloured rubber dildo. It was fairly realistic, and rigid. “Get in 
position, you fucking prick” she said to the man, picking up something 
that Calvin could not see properly, and placing it down the side of her 
boot. Arthur positioned himself face down on the bench, bending over 
one side. Fox walked across to him, carrying a small tub, and a towel. 
She placed the towel down beneath his feet, and began pouring liquid 
chocolate over the dildo. She massaged it in, then knelt down behind 
the man. “D'you want this eh? Worthless?” Arthur nodded. “Please,” he 
said, “Do it to me”. She then poured the chocolate into his ‘crack', 
spreading his buttocks as she did. The chocolate covered his scrotum 
and ran down his thighs. She pressed the tip of the dildo into his anus 
about an inch. Arthur moaned in pleasure. Fox then withdrew it, teasing 
him. “Is that what you want?” she shouted. “Yes,” he replied, louder. 
“Yes, what?” She leaned forward and smacked the back of his head. “Yes, 
Mistress. Please, I want it in me”. She then forced it inside his 
ring-piece up to the hilt, and began rhythmically to pound away in him, 
flecks of chocolate flying in all directions. “Is this what you want?” 
she screamed. “Yes,” Arthur yelled, louder. She again smacked the back 
of his head. “You want fucking, do you? you worthless piece of shit, 
you fucking bastard”. She smacked him again, continuing to thrust away. 
Calvin simply stared, still no new notes taken. He took one picture, 
but the erection in his trousers demanded attention, although he tried 
to ignore it. 

Fox pounded away for a few minutes, Arthur's face one of sheer bliss
despite regular smacks. She then slowed down, and eased it out of him, 
then quickly leaned down, spread his buttocks with her hands and began 
licking his ring-piece. Chocolate oozed out onto her tongue and lips. 
After around a minute, she leaned even further down and licked the 
chocolate from his testicles. Standing up she walked around the side of 
him and pushed him off the bench. “Fucking prick” she said, as she did, 
taking off the strap-on and casting it aside, then walking into the 
middle of the room. “Crawl to me worthless,” she said. “Yes, mistress” 
said Arthur. Calvin thought it might be difficult for the man to do 
that, but it wasn't. He came crawling over, and Fox pressed a boot 
against his rib-cage and shoved him down. “Lie on your back, worthless” 
she said. Arthur did as he was told, and Calvin could see that a lot of 
his body had bruises and cuts, not all of them from this session. His 
feet were about three feet apart, and his arms spread to either side. 
Calvin guessed he'd been here before. 

The mistress stepped over him, straddling his head. “What a sad,
pathetic, worthless piece of shit you are” she said, and looked almost 
saddened for him. Calvin walked around them, taking pictures, his 
erection still throbbing. Fox then squatted down, her g-string inches 
from his face. “What do you want now, dick-head?” “To eat, to taste”. 
Fox then reached into the side of her boot from where she had placed a 
knuckle-duster. Wrapping it around her right hand, she squatted even 
further, her camel-toe an inch from his face. He made no attempt to do 
anything about it. It seemed he knew what she was going to do. Arthur 
could see that her g-string was damp. She lifted it to around five 
inches away, began rubbing it with her other hand, then slid her 
fingers beneath the material, pulling it away to reveal her moist 
vaginal lips and ‘landing-strip'. Then without warning, with her 
knuckle-dustered hand, she arched around and punched him hard in the 
stomach. He yelled, his face slamming into her reddened cleft. She 
punched him again, and this time he stuck out his tongue, and Fox kept 
punching him, everytime his face pounding into her. When she drew 
blood, she continued, and after around two minutes, stopped and knelt 
down, still with her g-string pulled aside, she sat on Arthur's face, 
grinding away. “Lick me,” she said, “Lick my cunt”, and Arthur did, his 
tongue probing as deep as it could, licking her clitoris, his lips 
sucking her labia, making her even more moist, saliva dribbling down 
his own cheeks. “Lick me worthless”. She threw the knuckle-duster to 
the side, then reached back and gripped his hard penis and began to 
masturbate him. With a tight grip, she pumped his shaft hard and fast. 
“You like that, worthless, eh? You gonna choke?” She ground away even 
harder into his face, still furiously masturbating him, her knuckles 
pounding hard his ball-sack. Arthur could hardly breathe. “Tell me when 
you're about to cum you fucking worthless cunt”, she said, letting him 
breathe. He then continued to lick her. After a few seconds, he closed 
his eyes tight. “I'm cummin'” he said. “No you're not,” said Fox, and 
with one swift, expert move, she turned and quickly positioned herself 
next him, still gripping his penis, and with her other hand gripped his 
bulbous purple gland and squeezed, preventing him from ejaculating. His 
shaft felt like it was on fire, and Arthur screamed. Calvin was leaning 
against a wall, breathing heavily, his face tinged red. 

After a few seconds, Fox slowly let go of his penis, and it fell limply
to the side. Arthur, like Calvin, was red faced and breathing heavily. 
“That's what you get for being a worthless cunt,” said Fox, slapping 
him hard in the face. She stood up and walked across to the counter 
where she retrieved what looked to Calvin like stationary clamps. He'd 
seen them in the ‘Dominator' offices. Only these ones had serrated 
edges, like metallic sharks teeth. 

Walking back across to Arthur, she stood between his legs and with the
heel of one of her boots, stomped on his genitals. She did that twice 
before kneeling down, and gripping his testicles in one hand. She put 
down the clamps and inserted a finger into his still chocolate streaked 
anus. Arthur moaned. She inserted two fingers. With her other hand, she 
twisted his scrotum, then inserted four-fingers. His erection returned. 
Calvin was fumbling with the camera. He had still taken no new notes. 

Taking out her fingers from his rectum, she stretched her hands forward
for him to lick the chocolate, which he did. “Lick it worthless” she 
said. When her hand was clean she picked up one of the two-inch bulldog 
clamps, and slid it halfway over one of his testicles. She let go, and 
the teeth dug into it like it was crushing an egg. Arthur yelled, but 
Calvin didn't know whether it was with pleasure or pain. He thought 
about interfering, but decided against it. 

Fox slid the other clamp onto the other testicle, the teeth straining
against the delicate gland, drawing blood which ran down onto the 
canvas. Fox looked at that and frowned. Fuck, she thought, that won't 
come out. With one delicate finger, she rubbed dripping blood into his 
ring-piece, her finger-nail scraping the skin, but not entering his 
rectum. She then knelt forward and took the side of his penis onto her 
lips. With her teeth she delicately bit a piece of skin and pulled. The 
skin strained, then snapped back, more blood than usual oozing out 
because she had damaged a blood vessel. Gripping the shaft she began to 
masturbate him again, but slowly, and not for long. Arthur moaned in 
pleasure. Fox leant down again and took another piece of delicate skin, 
this time from his ‘bell-end'. Her teeth pulled another piece until it 
tore, more blood spilling out. Arthur screamed, and Fox took the whole 
of his penis into her mouth and began sucking vigorously, blood 
spilling from her lips over his testicles. Again she rubbed the fluid 
into his anus, teasing him by not entering further. 

This continued for around five minutes until Arthur yelled: “I'm
cummin'” and Fox withdrew her mouth and gripped his penis and 
masturbated him vigorously. His ejaculate didn't spray everywhere, 
instead it oozed from his penis over Fox's fingers and his testicles, 
mixing with the blood to drip to the floor. She leaned forward again 
and put her hand onto his mouth. “Lick it all off worthless fucker,” 
she said. Arthur did as he was told. Fox then slowly removed the clamps 
and threw them aside. 

She stood up and looked down at him, his eyes closed. “Stand up,” she
said, and Arthur slowly got to his feet. She punched him in the face. 
“Faster, cunt”. Arthur stood swaying, his eyes open and staring at the 
mistress with fear and expectation. She stepped back, then gave him a 
hard kick in the genitals which saw him on the floor in a foetus 
position. Turning and walking across to the counter, she returned with 
the studded paddle. “You're a naughty boy aren't you? And naughty boys 
need to be punished”.  With a scarlet face, he looked up at her, trying 
to smile. She began to beat him, hard, all over. Calvin watched on the 
screen of his camera as she furiously smacked him, and he could also 
see that his face was not one of pain. “On your knees worthless,” she 
said, and Arthur took a few seconds to do so, Fox pacing around, eager 
to continue beating him. “Lean forward”. Again, Arthur obeyed and the 
mistress began to spank his buttocks. Calvin could see that Fox was 
using all her strength to hit him. “Yes...” said Arthur, “Don't stop, 
I'm a naughty boy, hurt me”, so Fox continued beating for around five 
minutes. “You're a fucking naughty cunt,” said Fox, stepping around to 
crack him on the back of the head. Arthur collapsed, breathing hard. 
Fox walked back to the counter to replace the paddle, also breathing 
heavily, her face reddened with exhaustion. She walked back across and 
stood beside him, her hands on her hips. She tapped his arm with her 
boot, nothing fetishist, but simply to get his attention. “Come in 
number six, you're time is up”. “Is that an hour?” said Calvin, his 
face still reddened. “Not quite,” said Fox, “but it's what he 
requires”. Arthur moaned and slowly got to his feet, smiling at the 
mistress. He nodded his appreciation. “Thanks,” he said, then turned 
and walked slowly to the changing room. Calvin watched him as he did. 
He realised he didn't really know what to write for the article, 
knowing that he simply couldn't fill it out with pictures, like a lot 
of glossy magazines. “I could see you really love your work” said 
Calvin, his erection still straining at his zip. Fox saw it and smiled. 
“Fifty quid an hour,” she said, “If you do a good article and generate 
more business I'll knock some off. I'll do anything you want. 
Anything”. Calvin simply stared at her, embarrassed at her spotting his 
bulge. He dry washed his face, then took out his note-pad and pen, and 
realised he had hardly written anything. He sighed. “Have you been a 
naughty boy as well?” she asked, putting her hand on his cheek, making 
him step back and go even further red with embarrassment. “Do you need 
punishing?”. Arthur came out of the dressing room, dressed in his suit, 
a beaming smile on his still reddened face. “Thank-you mistress” he 
said. “I'll go and make and appointment for my next session. Bye”. 
“Okay,” she said, “Thanks”. Arthur left, and Calvin decided to follow 
him. “Er, yes, see you. I'll do a good article” he said, walking out of 
the door. Fox stood in the doorway and watched him disappear from view 
up the stairs. “Frigid cunt,” she whispered, closing the door behind 
her. 

In the entrance corridor, Calvin saw Arthur talking to the woman at
reception. He went across also. Arthur gave him a polite smile, and bid 
the woman farewell. “I'm done here” said Calvin, “The article will be 
in the spring issue, I'll send a copy”. “Ok thanks,” said the woman. 
Calvin turned and headed for the exit. He soon found himself outside on 
the pavement. A slight breeze had blown up, and the pedestrians again 
paid him no attention. The door swung slowly shut behind him, and he 
crossed the road to his vehicle and sat behind the wheel, winding down 
the window. 

He simply sat there, looking at his sparse notes. He still had no idea
what he would write in the article. 

Across the road, getting into a silver Bentley eight mk2, he saw Arthur,
who was soon pulling away from the kerb. He watched as he U-turned and 
spotted Calvin. He slowed down and wound down his window. “Isn't she a 
diamond?” Arthur said. Calvin tried his best to smile, but there was no 
emotion in it. He nodded. “Yes. I suppose she is. How often d'you see 
Mistress Fox?” “Most days to be honest, she's my daughter”. He then 
waved briefly, and drove away. 


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