12-1-14
It wasn't my dungeon, but it was a dungeon and that was good enough for the moment. My house didn't have a space this size to turn into a playroom and while I was a smidgen jealous I didn't begrudge it's owners. After all, they'd graciously allowed me private access for this little adventure. My eyes and fingers strolled around the room, gazing and touching each piece of fantasy furniture. Two different spanking benches. A St. Andrew's Cross. One smallish cage and right next to it a large pet carrier that would fit a humongous dog or a small person. Fortunately most subs tended not to be claustrophobic. Some smaller non-fixed stocks and the like. Lots of chains and attachment points secured to the ceiling beams here and there. A big comfy-looking futon bed piled with pillows and stuffed animals sat in one corner as a decompression space.
It was a beginning dungeon. Not completely jam packed with gear as so many tended to be. This was a good thing. Lots of room for improvement and places to put new stuff. I had a suspicion that I might be contributing a few items in the future. If not for my own amusement, then definitely as a return favor for the loan of the room.
My personal needs as far as furniture was concerned on this day were fairly simple. Aside from the ambiance of preferring a dungeon, that is. I'd only needed two items they didn't have and I brought them with me since they were portable. A small wooden stool about two and a half feet tall. Simple and plain. Round seat with rungs between the legs, like any kitchen or dinette stool you might find in any house in America. Three bucks from a thrift store. It's worth to me? Priceless. The other was a pad from a chaise lounge which I had modified to suit a specific purpose I will describe later.
Check my watch. Plenty of time.
No time to dawdle, but more than enough to prepare. The girl would be here soon.
There were two items of non-dungeon-ish furniture I had wanted and fortunately they were already there. Yard sale and thrift store items that always came in handy. One was a wooden library table which was usable for so many things. It wasn't so large it took up too much room but more than big enough to tie a pet down to all four corners for some play time, as well as being sturdy enough to hold two people in case things progressed that far. Plus it was just a handy place to put your stuff.
I owed a large debt to whomever in antiquity first imagined the concept of the table.
He or she was just a freaking genius.
The other item I required was a long low coffee table. One of those old fake mission style things made by the millions back in the 70's. Dark wood. Two feet wide by over four feet long and massive as a block of granite. Seriously usable as they could stand a lot of banging around but a serious pain in the bucket when it came time to move.
Since I'm all about not straining my back, especially at my age, I elected to move the library table closer to the coffee table rather than vice-versa.
Placing the stool in between the two completed the heavy lifting portion of my prep work.
When I bought the the chaise lounge pad I'd cut a long slit down the center of the cover material and scooped out a portion of the foam padding about four inches wide, two feet long and two inches deep. In this cavity I placed an electric "massager" with a round head, trailing the cord down the slit and out the end of the pad. Over this I placed a wide strip of soft leather and stuck it down with some flexible fabric glue. Now I had a pad with a built in massage head the protruded about two inches above the plane of the pad and less if someone was laying on top of it. Some extra electrical ingenuity put a variable speed control near the head of the pad where I could reach it.
Today would determine if that project had been worth the effort or not. I laid the pad across the top of the coffee table and ran an extension cord to the wall socket.
The few other props I needed slid out of my gym bag and onto the table top. A couple of them I covered with a towel to keep the surprise as long as possible. The others I wanted out in the open.
My hands were shaking just a little bit. Not an uncommon occurrence at my age, but it irritated me. Of course I was excited on several different levels to account for it but still... I took a few moments to stretch and do some deep breathing to find my calm space and relax.
Checked again. Steady as a rock. Excellent.
This little scene had been years in the making. Little Miss Marigold Granger had been but an infant on the day we first met. The only daughter of a friend and his wife who were more or less on the outskirts of my social circle. People I saw infrequently most of the time. But I had encountered them often enough for their daughter to take a liking to me. Over the years I had watched her grow first into a sweet and endearing child, then a smart and imaginative teen followed too closely by a strong and self assured young lady. The transformation had been often astonishing.
One of the things which had kept us in contact with each other over the years was our mutual love and admiration for books. She had a voracious appetite for the printed word and she valued my opinion highly. I could not even number the times I had sent her home with grocery sacks full of new books to read and new worlds to encounter.
The eager smile on her lips was my reward.
It was my love of books that would prove to be my downfall.
Or perhaps my salvation.
I'd had to take a few days down south on a short business trip and I had asked Marigold to watch the house and feed my dog while I was away. She'd readily agreed and had settled in with new treasures from my bookshelf as I headed out. Not once did I give a single thought to the bookshelf in the bedroom which held my personal collection of erotica. It was an eclectic assemblage from light erotica to outright porn with a heavy accent on BDSM-themed stories, since those were my favorite kink.
Of course if I had given it a thought it wouldn't have mattered a bit, as that wonderful little girl was now over eighteen and more than capable of making up her own mind.
In retrospect I probably should have been paying more attention to the look on her face when I returned home again. But I was just so happy to be home in one piece I didn't pay it any mind.
Fast forward ten years
One of the best things about moving back into town was being able to get reacquainted with my little golden child. I'd missed everything about her. While I had been away she'd married a very nice young man whom I both liked and approved of. He was more than good enough for my best girl. They seemed quite happy together and I was looking forward to being around both of them and at least being a small part of their life.
What I wasn't really expecting was the amount of change which had taken place in the last ten years. I knew she and her husband were sharing a house with another couple. At first I thought it was just friends living together. The little bits of information slowly showed me they were living in a polyamorous relationship with these other young people. Kind of their own private little swingers club.
Well! Good for them.
Then a few more tidbits managed to make their way to the surface. Hints leading to this and that. Things which made my eyebrows crawl right up my forehead.
One of those was a link to her profile on a well known kink website which opened up to show me facets of little Mari's psyche which I hadn't even suspected.
Pictures of her naked which made me feel a little funny at first.
Pictures of her in a little red fox costume. Ears and paws and a tail attached to her waist and nothing else. Those were... intriguing. But I still felt a little funny.
Pictures of her playing with a certain cute little redhead that were highly erotic. Especially since I'd had some of the same thoughts about the same girl in my mind.
Pictures of her and that redhead bound and gagged. The funny feeling faded some and left me warm all over.
Pictures of my sweet little Mari bound in many different ways. Sometimes by herself and sometimes with her hubby or with a handful of different women. I clicked on each one and expressed my liking of her choice of both play activities and partners.
That funny feeling had completely disappeared by this time.
If that wasn't enough, my little golden child decided that "Dear sweet Uncle Rex" wasn't quite getting the message fast enough and began sending me more in emails. Each one had a dozen or more pictures attached. Each one of those pics was designed for a sole purpose: To get me hard and wanting.
They worked.
Then came the videos.
Oooohhhh... snap.
The tamest one was her setting up her phone as a video camera with music playing in the background. Then she turned her back, hiked up that skimpy little dress around her waist and shook her fine little ass to the music.
And it was definitely one fine little ass.
They got more and more explicit from there.
