Back to the Dungeon
The only thing that marks the Citadel from the buildings around it is a small paper sign on the blacked-out glass door. Well, that and the people dressed in head to toe leather smoking outside.
It didn’t take much for Peek A. Booty to convince me to go back to the dungeon. I’d been fantasizing about floggers and orgies since I left it last weekend and was eager to see what kind of trouble I could get in tonight.
Walking inside, I handed my membership card and ID to the corset clad guard sitting on a stool in front of the black velvet entrance curtain. The guard wished me a pleasant adventure, pulled aside the curtain and let me in.
What differentiates the Citadel from other BDSM play spaces I’ve been to is the tight community atmosphere upstairs. People sit around in cuddly circles conversing about life and eating the full spread of free food while screams of both pleasure and pain waft up from down below.
If you want, you can lean over the railing and see what’s going on down there but mostly people just sit upstairs to relax between scenes and catch up with friends.
This friendly, loving atmosphere is why I admire and respect the BDSM community. They beat and belittle and then cuddle and caress, all the while fostering healthy communication both in and out of the dungeon.
The safety and security of the community lounge flows down the stairs and fills the three room place space dungeon below. Gloves, condoms, alcohol wipes, sanitary mats, dental dams and sterile needles are all used with respect for your partners and the others using the shared space.
Most of how and why these sanitation items are used I can’t explain in what is supposed to be a PG-13 blog but I’m going to attempt to briefly describe a part of my evening in a way that doesn’t get me fired.
When we got downstairs, D asked Peek A. Booty to join her in topping G, which was exciting because G is almost exclusively a dom. This special occasion drew a crowd—including me—and we all watched as Peek A. Booty and D took turns flogging, caning and spanking G, who was tied up on his stomach on a padded leather table.
Cues, signs and safe-words led the trio through their lengthy scene that ended with D strapping it on and G giving her a blow job. By the end everyone, including the audience, was exhausted.
Just when we thought it was over, D turned to me and asked if I wanted my turn. Tying me up in a sling, we had sex in front of the last of the crowd without a single kiss or caress.
After we were done, we cleaned our play space, gave each other a thank-you-for-the-fun-it-was-nice-meeting-you hug, packed up and left.
It was purely physical and it was just what I needed that evening.
Blogger Bio: Queerie Bradshaw loves shoes, social justice and sex. Born a farmer's daughter, she believes everyone deserves a good roll in the hay, and feels empowered by her feminine sexuality. She frequently travels both domestically and abroad, exploring women and wine from all regions. Now a law student who dances burlesque on the side, she fights for international rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of good porn. You can visit her website at QueerieBradshaw.com, follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/QueerieBradshaw) and friend her on Facebook.
Photo: J. Robert Williams
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