Cora's Basement -

An old friend had just moved back into town after ten years away in the big city, and I was trying to keep my hopes down. I had always liked Cora, she was funny and wicked smart, but not afraid to admit that she likes Xanadu. No, not the stately pleasure dome that Kubla Kahn did decree, but the roller skating travesty of a musical with Olivia Newton-John. And you know what? So do I.

Cora was a petite thing, but curvy - like the actress who plays Bernadette on the Big Bang Theory - but Cora had a sweeter face with smaller features, almost innocent. It was always a half-surprise when she would tell a dirty joke or talk trash about a co-worker, not just 'cuz of her angelic features but she also happened to be a good person. Her career in development meant she raised money for charities, what was a better gig than that?

Nothing had ever passed between us, except good laughs and warm feelings, but right before she left town, I had accidentally got a glimpse of her changing into a swimsuit at a friend's house, and the sight of her half-naked body seared into my memory; her D Cup tits looked almost comically large on her 5'-2" inch frame, and my mouth watered at the sight of her sweet suckable nipples, and her legs! Wow! Compact and strong, I remember staring at them as my fingers involuntarily flexed in and out from the desire to caress and squeeze them...

It had been hard to be her friend those last couple days. I was actually glad to see her go, it was becoming exhausting not to look at her tits-- does that makes sense? Perhaps it's an exhaustion only confident Heterosexuals con understand. Maybe lesbians? Well, unirregardless, that was ten years later and now she was coming back and I was totally cool about it! Yup! I had grown a lot, done a lot, and felt a lot more sure of myself than back then. Although I treasured that peek as a naughty memory, I had no expectations of Cora at all. We were just going to be old pals meeting again, right? Right.

Wrong.

As soon as she hugged me in the lobby of the restaurant, I knew I was in trouble. She was just as cute as before, except more so. She had gained a little weight, but it suited her somehow. Her warm smile was the same as was her big frizzie hair style, and when she hugged me and pulled me close to her, my cock got half hard right away. The hell? I wasn't some teen-ager! I had no right to expect any kind of physical Anything from Cora. I tried a deep breath to relax, but instead I breathed in her scent, a soft mix of skin and perfume. Damn. I called upon the powers of Miss Manners and Baseball and successfully nailed down my game face.

Dinner was wonderful! She was the same fun person she always was, but with extra stories to share about the weird world of fund raising. Soon, we were laughing and teasing each other just like before. I was about to ask for the check, when she asked me a question.

"So do you know about the neighborhood my new house is in?"

"Remind me of the address."

"2330 Clear Lake Boulevard."

"Oh, wow, that's where all those huge ranch-style homes are. Built back in the 50's. Big lawns, too."

"I guess you do know about it."

"Lots of good estate sales in that neighborhood."

"You still go to estate sales? I swear, you were born an old man."

"Ha! I could teach you a thing or two, whipper-snapper! Why do you ask about the neighborhood?"

She looked at me quizzically for a few seconds without saying anything.

"What?" I asked while laughing. "Is the place haunted? Are you worried it's built on top of an old cemetery?"

She wasn't laughing back. "Would you mind coming by the house? I think it would be a lot easier just to show you."

I gave her the slant eye, "Show me what?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure how to describe it. Can you just come over and take a look? Please? For me?"

"Yeah sure. Let me get the bill and..."

"Nope, you're doing me a favor, I'll get it."

I didn't argue.

We left and met back up at her place, which was indeed one of the sprawling ranch homes that were built just after World War II. I grinned walking up her driveway. "Oh my yes, this kind of house are the best for estate sales."

"Why is that?", Cora asked.

"It's all the military bases here in the city. Four of them. So a lot of officers retire here after serving overseas. They're upper middle class, and they love to buy things while they travel, which means rooms full of surprises and treasures."

"Yeah, all kinds of surprises." Cora had a wry smile on her face.

That's hard to do, you know, a wry smile. Try it. See?

She led me inside to an empty front room which led to a mostly empty house. Well, except for the wall to wall carpeting. A deep shag puke-yellow carpeting which seemed to run everywhere. With that horrible carpeting on the floor, no room would ever be truly empty.

With a hospital serious tone, I gently put my hands on Cora's shoulders. "Cora, you need to know something. If you installed this carpet yourself... we can never be friends again."

She laughed and playfully batted my hands away. "Shut up you clown. It's over here, in the basement."

I barked out a single derisive laugh.

"What?", Cora asked.

"The Basement. Really?"

Her brow furrowed. "Yes. The Basement."

"Honey, this is Central Texas, homes built after 1940 don't have basements. Too much flooding. Now I know you're messing with me."

She turned and walked away while answering me, "Well, unirregardless, there is a basement in this Central Texas house, and as to messing with you....that remains to be seen."

Indeed?

I scrambled to catch up with her at what seemed to be a linen closet. Cora was looking at me.

"This look like a linen closet? Right?"

"Yeah, I was just narrating that."

She smiled and opened the doors revealing a huge pile of nothing!

"Dear God! What has happened to all the Linens! NOOOOOO!", I cinematically Mimed a body contortion of horror.

"You're an asshole.", said Cora. She stepped to the back of the closet and pressed a part of the wall. The wall made a 'click' sound and recessed back about an inch. Cora then pushed the section aside, revealing a large metal door with three locks.

"That's... better than linen.", I said with wide-eyes. Cora smiled an eat-shit smile, and pulled out a medieval set of keys. She then unlocked each one of the locks with a separate key and then pushed the heavy door open with a creak that would have made Vincent Price cackle with glee.

"The fuck...." was all I could say. Cora reached into the darkness without looking to flip a switch, and a stairwell leading downwards was suddenly illuminated.

"Nobody told me anything about this room when I bought the place. I never would have found it if i wasn't such a fan of linen closets. And Scooby Doo."

"Follow me." said Cora. And I did. She kept talking as we descended.

"I have led a somewhat sheltered life, Carson. I mean, I've had sex, I'm not a prude...but, I've never been all that adventurous. The right man just never came along, or the wrong one... depending on how you look at it. So, I am having a hard time, well, discerning what to do about all of...." She reached over a flicked on a clunky light switch. "... this."

'This' was a one-thousand-square-foot room full of racks, chains, shackles descending from the ceiling, restraining chairs, a St. Andrew's cross, hard wood benches, soft plush couches and a huge 16th Century Baroque Walnut wardrobe that stood aloof from all the other more modern looking apportionments. The floor was a dark wood planking, and the ceiling was festooned with extra hooks, just in case, apparently. All the plush couches and pillows were a deep red satin, and the general scent of the room was of well-cared-for wood furniture, and not the strip-club disinfectant that is common in sex dungeons.

"It's a dungeon." I whispered, while licking my lips.

"That's what I thought. Is it a, well, bad dungeon?", Cora asked.

"Huh? A Bad dungeon? What? Oh! Like for torture, like spy torture and stuff?"

She nodded yes

.

"Oh my, no. No. Oh, no. Of course not. " I walked into the room. I let my fingertips brush across the top of the nearest rack, a classic black wooden pillory, like what the puritans used. "This is all for fucking. This is to make the sweet creatures cum. These are tools to carve out pleasure from the flesh of pain." I could feel my voice get low and throaty, betraying the deep feelings I was having, and I didn't care. "This is very high quality equipment. Oak wood, black laquer, lama skin lining on the apertures, and it even has the foot restraint near the base. Impressive."

Cora laughed nervously. "Yeah? So, what? Did you learn all about those things at Estate Sales."

"No, I learned those things while whipping submissive slaves at my local Temple of Flesh."

It was my turn to watch her be shocked, and I loved it. She actually blushed. I had never told her or anyone else about my BDSM life. Muggles didn't need to know anything about that side of me. I had been a three year regular at The Temple of Flesh, which was a local club for Fetishists of all stripes. Down here there's not a lot of places for people like me go. Hey, I said I had grown, remember?

"Ok." Cora said, gulping and catching her breath. "I was hoping you would know about... such things."

"Oh, I do." All signs of the goofy and friendly Carson were evaporating. I could tell that Cora was, shall we say, interested, in the what the room held. Her face, her voice, the way she was shifting from foot to foot. My dungeon senses were turning on, and I was becoming aroused. But, I couldn't force her. We don't do that. That sounds counter intuitive, doesn't it? Not forcing a submissive to submit... but if you know, you know. If you don't, pay attention.

"So what can I do with all this? Can I sell it? Rent it? I mean, you know, I could use the space for... a pool table or maybe a dart board. Perhaps a laundry room... " Cora was stammering, I could tell she didn't know what to say, or even how to figure out what to say. She was having some big feelings, and I needed to let her feel them, and to let her express them in her own time.

"That depends. Say, do you have anything to drink?"

"Oh shit, yes! A drink! That's a great idea! Are you still a bourbon man?"

"Yes, and can you bring some 409 or any kind of cleaning stuff?"

"Are the...things... dirty?"

"Don't think so. It's only to help me judge the value of the equipment."

"Oh. Ok.", she scrambled upstairs and was back in less than five minutes with booze and cleanser. I had only done a quick survey of the room, but the wardrobe was the most mysterious and thereby the most interesting piece, as it was locked tighter than a drum. As Cora handed me a glass of bourbon, neat, she asked me about the wardrobe. "Did you try to open it? I can't even find a place where a key might go."

"Really? Oh, that makes it even better, doesn't it!"

"I know, right! God, i can only imagine what's in there. It's all so weird and scary and... uh....well...". She drink from her glass as her eyes scanned the room.

"Hey Cora, show me the the device you... have the most questions about."

"Oh. Uh, ok, well, this one is just an old fashioned Scarlet letter Machine, right?"

We walked over to the black pillory I had been caressing. "Yes, it's called a pillory. Most people think of the Scarlet Letter, as you do, but it is actually quite adaptable. Especially when used with other devices in a single session."

"I didn't know spanking people came with such official language."

"It's one of the things I like the most about the BDSM community, it forces you to define your terms, and to express them accurately. And when you're getting your back flailed on this thing..." I led Cora over the eight foot tall 'X' bolted to wall. "... which is a St Andrew's cross, you'd better not be bullshitting."

"Jeeze..." Cora breathed out softly as her hands ran over the wooden X. "So, there must have been people tied up here, right?"

"I can guarantee it. See these straps up here? They're worn soft. That only happens by use. And frequent use." I was watching Cora's face as she fondled the other restraint. She was breathing faster, and her little tongue was darting out now and then to lick her lips. God, she was cute!

I went over to pick up the cleaner and then to a special set of shackles that were hanging from the ceiling just above a square, raised platform. "Now this is a real treasure and a pleasure. I have only seen these in books! Well, movies." I started to clean it up, which was a happily feckless act. My rag found no dirt or grime, nor did any old grease or paint come off the shackles, the chains or the bottom platform. This stuff was clean! So, I said so.

"Cora, this stuff is clean. Kudos to whoever made it and maintained it."

"What is it?", She asked inching closer.

"It's a Kropotkin. You stand here, on the platform, and your ankles are strapped in here, and then you lower the chains for the wrists, here." I held out the padded shackles that were attached to the black steel-link chain. I looked Cora straight in the eyes. "Right in there go the wrists. And then we pull you up, so your arms are above your head, and you are suspended upright." I saw Cora stop herself from gasping aloud.

"What's so special about that?" She asked, trying to keep her cool. "I mean, that's just two dangling chains, big deal."

I smiled, and pressed a foot pedal near the base of the platform. It rose an inch, making Cora squeak with fright. "Both the chain and the base can be lowered and raised to suit the needs of the moment. Up, down. Stretched tight, or loosely... dangled." I dangled one of the shackles in front of her eyes and tapped it with my other finger, making it swing back and forth. Cora stared at the shackles.

"Cora, are you interested in trying these on?"

"Oh fuck yes.", she said quickly. I moved closer to her.

"Have you ever done anything like this?"

"Um, no.. "

"Allright. Do you know what a safe word is?" I stepped closer.

"...yes."

"Tell me."

"Ah, it's something I say to tell the mast...to tell you that um, something...hurts too much."

"Good. But not just if it hurts too much, but if it feels wrong, or uncomfortable, ok?" She nodded.

"Out loud, please."

"Yes. Yes I understand."

"Also, look..", I put down the shackles and took her hands in mine. "We're playing here, okay? I'm not your Master tonight. I don't want that relationship with you, not tonight."

"I don't understand..."

"A Master-submissive relationship isn't about sex. Not necessarily. I don't want to introduce you to the art of painful pleasure..." I stepped closer to her, pressing my thigh into her pussy. She trembled and pushed back. "... I want to fuck you. And I want to use this to fuck you with. That's it."

Her face was an inch from mine. Her hips were gently, carefully, masterfully grinding into me, making my cock harder by the second.

"Yes, fuck yes...", she breathed. I took her face in mine and kissed her gently at first, tasting her lips again and again. They were sweet and warm,and they felt right as I leaned in for more and more of her succulent mouth. She pressed back, her tongue searching, her body writhing like a animal. We made out like god-damned movie stars, our pent-up passion turning us into nothing but needful things of hot flesh. And oh my my, oh hell yes, she was a good kisser. All the fucking I have done over the years, and there is still little better than kissing a person who knows how to kiss. I pulled back and got the shackles.

"We'll keep it simple. 'Red' is your safe word. If you feel are close to a 'Red', and need to tell me that, you can say 'Yellow'. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Allright. Let's begin. Do you have any attachment to the clothes you are wearing?" I placed one of her small, slim wrists into the shackle.

"Oh, um, I do like this blouse..." I closed the shackle on her wrist.

"Anything else?" I placed her other wrist into the other padded shackle.

"No.", she said. I closed it.

"Good. I am going to use you now." I pulled on the hoist to lift her arms up into the air, just over her head. I then gently, inch by inch pulled her arms higher and higher until they were extended fully over her head. With each little yank, Cora gasped and wriggled in her bonds. I locked off the rope and then walked around her. Her eyes followed me a little, and that wouldn't do.

"I don't think I want you to know what is going to happen to you. You think too much. Let's make it easy for you not to think." I went over and grabbed a clean rag and fashioned it into a blindfold. I put it over her eyes and stepped back. She wriggled in anticipation even more. But the words Red or Yellow did not leave her mouth. There was even a glimmer of a smile on her sweet lips.

"Oh, I should have done this years ago." I said, ogling the woman I had wanted to fuck for years.

"You haven't done anything, yet.", she said in a mocking tone, her voice dripping with anticipation.

"Good point." I strode up to stand behind her and pressed my pelvis against her ass. My hands grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her into me. I then slid my hands slowly up her sides, across her stomach and across her tits, then up her arms and all the way to her finger tips, my hands never leaving her body. I then went back the way I came, caressing her in all the places I missed on the way up. I then just mauled her body for a bit, delighting in this hot petite figure, strung up and helpless. Cora moaned and sighed as I stroked and pawed at her her ass and tits, making her sway back and forth in her chains.

My face was pressed into her hair, and I breathed in her sweet scent as my hands began to unbutton her blouse. I kissed and nibbled on her neck and ears until I undid the last button, and then I moved around to her front and lowered myself to my knees. I kissed her bare stomach softly, tenderly, which made Cora tremble in her chains. Then I licked her sweet skin roughly, like it was meat to be devoured, and I ran my hot tongue up her body to her chest. From my pocket i pulled out my simple one bladed pocket knife, which I have not because I'm a sadist, but because I live in Texas, and I brought it up to her bra.

"Now don't move, be still." Cora froze, and hissed when she felt the knife blade slide between her skin and her brassiere. With a small twist and a flick, I sliced through the material between her 38 D cup breasts, which burst forth like two Cornucopias of boobs.

"Yellow. Yellow...." She murmured.

"The knife?", I asked her. She nodded in assent.

"Okay, just let me do this real quick...." I quickly sliced the bra straps to remove the remains of the bra from her body, and put the knife away. "The knife is in my pocket, and it will stay there. And now..."

Do I really have to tell you? I started sucking on those tits like a man dying from Nipple Depravation! Those amazing set of jugs, those bodacious Ta Tas, that chest of the best...I stopped being a human and just became a titty sucking animal! Aside from the basic sucking as much of her tit as I could into my mouth, I also would flick her nipples with my tongue, like a Parsel-Tongued wizard. Every little move and trick I had ever learned over the last ten years I unleashed on those tits!

Like when you suck just the nipple inside your mouth and circle your tongue all around the nipple itself...yum!

Or pinching the nipple gently, but then giving them a twist as you do...oh, how they howl!

And always, always try a quick little glancing slap across the front of the tit...not the nipple, not the whole entire breast, just the front of the breast. Practice if you can.

Cora whimpered, moaned and even gave out a little scream, but she never cried out Yellow of Red.