Session Memories — A Story from the Dungeon – Part One
Session Memories — A Story from the Dungeon – Part One
I once had the chance to join a private dungeon session.
And that was the day I met a man who would become a part of several sessions afterward.
We played together many times.
He shared his experiences with me and helped guide me in many ways.
As time passed, what started as soft and simple play slowly became deeper, more intense — until one day, he disappeared.
Our sessions usually began with light touches, soft and slow.
I would start with his cock and balls, adding a bit of weight — little by little.
There was no rush. I liked to take my time.
Then came my sharp fingernails.
I slowly dragged them over his cock. I could see him flinch, tense up.
Then I moved higher, to his nipples — his body started to shake, and the sounds he made began to grow.
Those reactions… turned me on.
The cries, the pain, the moaning — it all became music to me.
And I knew he liked it too.
It stirred something inside us both.
But there was one thing he said he didn’t like: candles.
Still, in my mind, they were already part of the plan.
I dropped the hot wax carefully on his cock, watching it land and settle.
I smiled.
Then, I started spanking him gently with my hand — followed by the cane, each strike with purpose.
We had punishments, and we also played games — like the dice game.
But they often ended with impact play.
I used floggers, paddles, horsewhips, and my favorite — canes.
I always started light and built it up, from thin to thick canes.
From stinging pain to deeper, heavier pain.
Each time the cane landed in the same spot, it felt more powerful.
The sound, the marks — they only pushed my desire higher.
Seeing the red stripes grow on his skin… made me fall deeper into it.
His body was mine. His pain was mine to create.
There was something so intoxicating about it — seeing someone suffer under your control, knowing it all came from you.
And in the end, I took control over his orgasm too.
I would twist his nipples slowly, counting as I did.
He wasn’t allowed to come unless he begged — unless I gave permission.
Each session was a mix of tenderness and intensity.
But most importantly — we were in that space together.
It was consensual. And unforgettable.
To be continued…