” The submissive guide led us down a dark and winding staircase to the dungeon. Ever protective, Master stood behind me with His hand on my shoulde..., so as to make sure I did not fall in my heels. I expected the dungeon to smell dank and musty, but surprisingly it did not – it smelled like leather, wood and fresh paint; reminiscence of my grandfather’s garage while I was growing up. At the bottom of the staircase, there were wooden stocks, used in medieval times for torture, public. .’ said Claire, and stopped.‘Shit?’ laughed Kitten. ‘Just stick your ass in one of the indents in the wall and poop. They’ll take care of the cleaning up.’ She put her skirt back on. ‘Good luck, honey,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you at lunch if you want?’‘Okay,’ said Claire. When Kitten had left, Claire nervously took off her skirt and pulled off her panties and put them on the bench. Then she moved to stand right above a drain, spread her legs a little, and tried to relax. It took a while, but. More

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