The Citadel

A few weeks ago the Boytoy and I went to the Citadel to attend a DS discussion group. It was a good meeting: interesting questions, thoughtful discussion, judicious leadership. (Third Monday of the month, 7PM.)

I hadn’t been to the Citadel before, and I was also very impressed with what I saw of the playspace. The floors are clean. That alone puts it way ahead of some of its rivals.

A return visit to a private party Sunday evening confirmed my favorable opinion. The Citadel is a great playspace; it reminds me of the late lamented Playhouse in Baltimore. There is a fine selection of playstations, spaced widely enough that nobody’s floggers would tangle with the next Top’s canes. There are also chairs in the dungeon — useful for holding toybags or spectators. And the lighting is just right: bright enough to see without having an operating-room glare.

With hardwood floors, exposed brick walls, intriguingly kinky antiques, and BDSM prints, the decor is both tasteful and erotic. I didn’t enter the smoking lounge, but there is one, and it’s well-sealed enough that I was never troubled by cigarette smoke. The upstairs conversation area is spacious and comfortable. There is even a kitchen, and the bathrooms are large, clean, and functional. And all this glory can be rented for the evening.

The stations include a couple of slings, several St. Andrew’s crosses, spanking benches, bondage beds, a dentist’s chair, and some sturdy cages. A few of the stations are set into deep nooks, while others are more public. Nitrile gloves are available at every playstation, as are condoms and cleanup supplies — and small trash cans, something I really appreciate. I also saw containers for used sharps.

The party was as wonderful as the playspace. I arrived alone around 6ish and had no trouble finding on-street parking. (Redmage was coming separately, the Pet couldn’t make it, and Karen was planning to drive up with her new sweetie Tigger.) I talked to a few old friends, met a few new people, and was starting to get a bit frustrated. There I was in the Citadel, and nobody to beat. Karen and Tigger showed up a little before supper, so I had to be patient through the meal.

After supper Redmage and I discussed partitioning Karen. This is not quite so brutal — or final — as it may sound. When you share a sub, it’s courteous not to play so hard that the next Top can’t find unmarked skin. I took the front, Redmage took the back. Tigger was far too tired from a long drive to play with her on his own (anyway, neither Redmage nor I had seen him play yet and we weren’t about to let him do so without it), but not too tired to do a co-Topping scene with me directing the action.

The slings are upstairs near the bathrooms, just a bit too public for my taste. However, I stationed Tigger between Karen’s legs to give her the sense of relative privacy she needed to relax. (She is comfortable baring her breasts, but having her pussy open to view is much harder for her to handle.) Tigger was big enough to effectively screen her from passing glances, and he was admirably placed to do penetration play. That’s always edgy for Karen in public, but with two Tops, a private party, and the luscious combination of pain and pleasure, we were able to take her safely there.

Karen looked smashing in an off-the-shoulder purple brocade corset dress. When I stripped it off her, she looked even hotter wearing nothing but leather cuffs, black high heels, and thigh-high black stockings. Then I lay her on her back in the sling. The soft leather cradled her comfortably. I had Tigger attach her cuffs to the heavy steel chains at each corner of the sling and stood back to admire the effect.

My beautiful sub was alluringly open to the gaze and touch. I could possess her so easily: her pale nipples erect and edible as raspberries, her shapely breasts and belly, the delicious goblet of her cunt, welling with juice. All spread out for my delectation.

We started with caresses and kisses. Karen was already glowing with the joy of being with us both, and when Tigger swung the sling like a hammock she grew giddy with pleasure. The deeper she dives, the more beautiful she gets — something about the texture of her skin, or the curve of her radiant smile. The more we touched her, the more we made her come, and the more she opened to us.

While Tigger slid one finger, two, and eventually four fingers up to the palm into Karen’s juicy quim, I stood at her side and used the triple cane on her breasts. This short, light, stingy cane consists of three 1/8-inch thick pieces of Delrin bound together. At first I kept up a steady, moderate tapping on her breasts — a maddeningly erotic sensation that made her gasp and moan, with sharper screams when I struck the areolas or the nipples themselves.

Gradually her breasts grew rosy pink as the caning built up an intense surface sting. Then, as she grew hotter and hotter, I started hitting harder, using the length of the cane as well as the tips. Now I was seeing three-pronged welts on her fair skin, showing where the tips spread on impact.

Occasionally I moved my attention elsewhere, lightly teasing her arms, shoulders, armpits, even tongue with the relentless tap-tap-tap of the cane. When I started caning her inner thighs, though, I wasn’t teasing. I struck hard there, glad of the cuffs and chains that held her helplessly open to the wicked blows. Karen was not the only one who gasped. Tigger, his hand deep inside her, could feel her cunt squeezing hard as she came in intense rolling waves of pleasure.

And always, often, I touched her, told her how beautiful she was, kissed her, bit her neck and shoulders and arms. Tigger punctuated his caresses with sharp slaps that made her leap and open greedily for more.

Once I said to Tigger, “Change hands, please.” Obediently he slid his left hand into her, while I licked her juices off his fingers.

Another time he fetched cool water for her. I sipped it, then kissed her, filling her mouth with the water from mine.

Then I slid on gloves, lubed my hands, and came to stand next to Tigger. As he continued to fuck her with his hand, I started to touch her asshole. “Oh,” Karen moaned. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“I’ll go gently,” I promised, as I slipped a thumb into her sweet little asshole. I could feel the heat of Tigger’s hand through the thin membrane, the greedy eagerness of her ass as she opened to me. Soon I could feel the separate rhythmic squeezes as her ass and her cunt both reached their separate, simultaneous orgasms.

Even when I had three well-lubed fingers inside her, and Tigger had four, it wasn’t enough for me. I bent and started licking her clit, inspiring a whole new burst of climaxes. (Also smearing my glasses thoroughly with Eros.) Someday I’ll manage a double fisting with her; we came close Sunday night.

When the scene was done, we unfastened her, and Tigger took her in his arms and carried her to a fainting couch nearby. While he held and caressed her, I fetched water for all of us. We relaxed and cuddled for a while, then dessert was announced. And such desserts! Cheesecake, dark chocolate truffles, slices of cake robed in white chocolate and topped with fresh raspberries.

By now, Karen was still blissed out, but ready for more play, so Redmage joined us to go downstairs. Someone was doing a lengthy wax-play scene using several different colors. (Tigger’s comment: “It looks like a Jackson Pollock painting.”) Another friend was attaching her sub’s scrotum to a butterfly board with hypodermic needles. (They go through the skin only, not through the balls themselves.)

While Redmage began to do his beautiful rope bondage, Tigger announced that his back was tense and he needed a beating. It’s true that a consensual beating relaxes the muscles, but it’s also true that “think of it as a massage” is a classic let’s-play line. (Usually it’s a Top’s line.) Unfortunately, I hadn’t brought my long floggers, just the short, soft, thuddy Heartwood and a red squid, plus of course the canes.

“OK, take off your clothes — everything you’re comfortable removing,” I said.

“Do you mean it?”

“Sure.” In a few moments, he was naked before me: a tall, muscular man, nicely furry.

We searched for a station tall enough for Tigger (he’s more than six and a half feet tall) and decided to attach him to the huge heavy anchor chain in one of the roomlets. Redmage was tying Karen only a few feet away, so she could watch the fun.

And it was fun. This scene was not the erotically charged, multiply orgasmic kind we’d given Karen. It was healthy, pleasurable whacking, and I had a wonderful time.

(Yes, you can safely cane the upper back and shoulders — always avoiding the spine — as long as you’re not doing English-style caning, which is the kind that leaves deep welts. Especially on a muscular sub, such as Tigger.)

Before I chained him, he tested out the various canes on himself, commenting on level of sting and thud. I stuck mostly with the thuddy ones and used them mildly for a long time, rather than very intensely for just a little bit. Occasionally I would vary the work on his back by hitting his ass and thighs. I particularly enjoyed demonstrating the difference between leather-style caning and English caning. I held back a lot, but he still had one lovely welt across his thighs from that.

I also used the short Heartwood flogger, which naturally he loved. Everybody does who likes thud at all. Then I switched to the nasty little red squid, which is itchy/stingy but rather interesting, and the very light, thin, flexible triple cane I’d been using on Karen’s breasts and thighs. I left some truly gorgeous welts; damn, I love marking people. I also used a paddle, which he hated, but I enjoyed the bellows and the way he moved — and he likes pleasing his Top, so we both got something out of it.

I enjoyed seeing the way Tigger would arch his back at the pain — in fact, he pulled so hard the dungeon master was concerned that he might pull the chains from the wall.

I enjoyed it, though it was a pure Topping scene, no submission, no diving, no emotional component, no sexual component. I was just applying sensation and enjoying the sheer physicality of hitting someone hard. Despite the welts, I wasn’t even getting to be that sadistic; I don’t know Tigger well enough to push his limits, and I didn’t have any submission to call on to help him get through the rough spots. I definitely want to Top him again soon.

Redmage artistically tied Karen up and flogged her, which she loved. She was flying on pain endorphins, diving from submission, and also just drunk with sheer sex, all at the same time. If you ever worry about being a sadist, try having your hand inside a sub when you cause her the pain she likes. Oh yes.

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