Charles Alexander is standing there, naked, in the middle of the room. He doesn’t know this room at all; it is a public dungeon he has never been in, not his Mistress’s Dungeon. The room is slightly chilly; it has a cement floor, sound-proof walls, and ceiling tiles. It has semi-circular stadium seating, but all the seats are empty. He is alone in this room. There is a workbench full of toys; from dildoes made of glass to feather wands; prostate stimulators to vampire mittens. A small generator is hooked up to a TENS unit. Attached to that is a spiky metal wheel. Behind him is a St. Andrews cross, at his feet, a simple blindfold.
“TAKE THE BLINDFOLD AND PUT IT ON.”
He cannot tell from where the command came. He does know the voice, however, and just the sound of it makes his cock tremble and perk.
He looks around, tentatively, but he knows he must obey. It was the voice of his Mistress. He reaches down, takes up the blindfold, and secures it tightly around his head, shutting out all light.
He hears a door opening and several people entering the room. Four hands press him backward; guiding him toward the cross. They lash his arms and legs in position. None of these hands belong to his mistress. These are rough, masculine hands; hands he does not know.
He is nervous and scared. He trusts his mistress explicitly, but he’s never been in an open, public scene with people he does not know.
His Mistress’s voice speaks to him again from the same tinny, unidentified speaker, “I am here Cava. Everything is OK. I will be with you shortly,” she reassures him.