The holiday break was about to come to an end. My big brother and I had gone home for four days, and spent three days in Seattle to celebrate the start of 2007 with a mutual friend from high school. I had spent as much time as possible working at the video store, while he had decided to quit his job and was looking for something different. We had bought our textbooks for the coming semester at our respective colleges, and were rested enough to resume our educations.
However, it had been a long, long time since we had made use of the basement dungeon. If anything, my Master or I would go to the basement, gather a few supplies, and bring them upstairs. The main reason was that the dungeon itself was not connected with the rest of the house's heating system. There must have been a reason for that when the house was built, but neither of us could truly understand it.
On the final night of the holiday break, however, we went to the basement dungeon together. In fact, my big brother and Master carried me down the basement steps and through the front room of the basement, the proximity of the furnace making me feel quite warm in my sweatshirt and jeans. I turned the knob, and was carried into the dungeon itself.
The bolts, the chains, the floggers on the walls, the self-assemble spanking bench we had bought, the dressers full of supplies... it was all instantly familiar, and I felt quite at home. I could also feel the change of air temperature, sending a small chill down my spine.
"Your choice tonight," he whispered as he set me down on my feet. "You choose what and how."
We shared an illicit gaze as I thought about it. He reached up to stroke my cheek, his hand quite warm against my face.
At last, I decided. "Blindfold me," I requested, "with my wrists chained above me. Use a spreader bar between my ankles. Then just touch me. Just touch me..."
"That sounds quite nice," he replied softly before kissing my forehead.
It took my loving Master a few moments to gather the supplies, then he returned and positioned me to stand beneath a pair of chains dangling from a strong bolt in the ceiling. I liked it, standing away from the walls, since that would allow him to touch all of me, not just one side of me.
His actions were slow, thoughtful, caring. There was a lot of eye contact between us and more than a few contented smiles as he applied each wrist cuff and connected it with a double-headed clip to one of the dangling chains. My arms were not quite directly over my head, the chains loose enough to give me a bit of slack, important for struggling in my bonds when I was being paddled or spanked or whipped while in this vulnerable position.
