Karen had just gone through her 2nd divorce & had started online dating. She was a big-boned gal, but attractive still & only in her early thirties at the time. She owned her own house in the country & had a fabulous sense of humor, plus made great money to boot. At each appointment, she’d fill me in on how the latest date went & if she was going to see him again. I’d been married for over a decade, but I could still remember the thrill of the rendezvous, so it was fun listening to her.
One older man who lived in another state caught her fancy & she went to visit him over a long weekend. He became her tutor, her mentor, her Svengali if you will. Well, actually he became her “master”. He introduced her to the pleasures & pain of B&D and S&M. For folks who have lived a sheltered life, B&D stands for bondage & discipline, while S&M stands for sadist & masochist. Google them for further clarification, but be sure to delete your browsing history lest another family member accidentally discovers it.
It seems there are a LOT of people who enjoy this kind of lifestyle (and you KNOW who you are) & while I am in no way passing judgment on them, but you’ve got to admit that it is not considered the “normal” lifestyle that the majority of society subscribes to. Therefore, nobody really talks about it in every day polite conversation so the majority of citizens probably don’t know that it even exists.
Anyway, at each visit, I’d get to hear all kinds of bizarre things, such as how he liked to spank her, drip hot wax on her, etc. Thankfully she did not go into all the nitty-gritty details because some things are just better left unsaid, but she did show me the bruises on her hips. She was mighty proud of how she took the spanking without calling out the “safe word” (which would’ve ended the session). One day she told me that she was invited to a dungeon in Nashville, TN. (as in home of the Grand Ole Opry). Nash-vegas, as we jokingly refer to it, is not far from where we live & she was really looking forward to going.
Now to confess, I had been invited to a dungeon back when I was young, single & living in Chicago but I declined to go for several reasons, with fear being at the top of the list followed closely by me envisioning myself cracking up & then being thrown out of the dungeon. Or worse still, I imagined there could be a raid or some other crazy shit going down that would involve the police & I’d be seen on the evening news getting hauled off to jail in handcuffs. Then I’d have to call my folks back home for bail money since I & all my friends were broke. How the heck do you explain to your parents what you were doing at a dungeon?
After I got over the initial shock that wholesome Nashville even had a dungeon, I inquired about the details because I’ve always been fascinated by strange & unusual things. It seems that you need to know someone who is already a member of this dungeon in order to be let in. From what I remember, this dungeon is privately owned & is not on the tour of famous Nashville places, such as Music Row, Conway Twitty’s farm or Loretta Lynn’s restaurant. It’s very clandestine & for obvious reasons, so only a select crowd knows about it.
From what Karen said, most of the members are highly paid professionals in their working hours, but in their off-hours, they like to spank people & do other non-traditional stress-relieving activities. So each member pays dues, be it monthly, quarterly or annually; I do not know & they get to live out their fantasies. They can bring a guest member once, but after that, the guest must join if they want to visit again. She didn’t say what the dues were, but its kind of like a private country club of sorts, except everyone is openly freaky (unlike the regular country club members who keep their freak show on the down-low).
Two weeks later on her next visit, she tells me about her trip to the dungeon. She is now hooked on this lifestyle & has made friends with others from the dungeon scene. They were supposed to meet in Memphis the following weekend to go to another dungeon located there (Elvis would be rolling over in his grave….or maybe he was a member? Who knows).
To complicate matters more, I should tell you that I also was doing Karen’s mother’s nails. If she knew what her baby girl was into she would’ve put her house on the market & left town in shame. At each of her moms’ visits, I’d listen to her say things like “I wish she’d find a good man & settle down” or “it would sure be nice if she found a decent husband & gave us some grandchildren“. I’d keep my mouth shut & just nod, thinking to myself “that’s not likely to happen any time soon“.
Eventually, Karen did find a man, I mean a master. She told me all about him & how he was everything that she was looking for. He was the “top” to her “bottom, the “master” to her “slave”, the yin to her yang, the peanut butter to her jelly…..well, you get the picture. She’d proudly tell me of all the many bruises he left on her bare ass from the paddling she repeatedly begged for at these various dungeons. I was silently mortified & kept filing her nails without looking up!
Honestly, I just didn’t get it. I got my butt beat enough as a child for miscellaneous & sundry bad kid behavior, so I have NO desire to experience any butt whippings again, but maybe she wasn’t disciplined that way as a child. Her parents are good, hard-working, loving Christian folk who raised her well, so I can’t imagine where her proclivities originated. Or maybe that was it?
One time she invited me to go with her to Nashville, but of course, I turned her down. I’m just not into that kind of adventure & neither is my husband. However, she did relay this extremely funny story to me upon her return & it’s definitely x-rated.
Anyone who might be offended by raunchy sex talk should stop reading now. I mean seriously STOP …READING….NOW!
OK, don’t say you weren’t warned & you have no right to try to judge me for what I’ve written because YOU chose to keep reading.
At these dungeons, members can walk around dressed or undressed or any stage in between. Anything goes as long as both parties consent to it. There are what they call “scenes” going on all around the dungeon’s large open room, such as someone chained up enjoying being whipped with a riding crop or Karen getting spanked while other members stand around watching. Or hot wax being dripped on a volunteer’s genitals & breasts, while people gather to watch (spectator sport?).
Many people like to wear leather S&M attire & mill about making conversation (or not). It sounded to me like a kind of kinky cocktail party. It also amazed me that you could literally be standing there fully clothed, but be engaged in a conversation about the stock market with a buck naked person wearing nipple clamps!
So this one time there was a woman that Karen said had a weird fetish…..she liked to (I’m NOT making this up) smell men’s testicles (!). Karen was telling me this with a totally straight face while I was doing her nails as if this sort of thing happens all the time. I tried SO hard not to laugh because she was deadly serious & I did not want to offend her. After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I inquired as to how does this woman fulfill her strange obsession at the dungeon.
Apparently, the naked woman walks around the dungeon & when she sees a naked man that suits her fancy, she goes up to him & asks “Can I smell your balls?“. Then when he agrees, she drops to her knees & gently lifts his nutsack in her hands, all the while inhaling deeply as her nose is centimeters from the wrinkly things.
I absolutely could not hold it in any longer & I fell out laughing out loud! I said “No way!” & she said “Way!” …a la Wayne’s World, Party Time Excellent! (a reference to the epic SNL skits with Michael Myers & Dana Carvey…go YouTube it). We both cracked up over the nail table until tears came out of our eyes. I told her that the image of the Grey Poupon commercial came to mind, but instead of the actor saying “Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?“, he instead says “Pardon me, but may I sniff your balls?“. LMAO!
Anyway, after she’d been dating her dream man (who actually was exceedingly on the non-dreamboat side & more like the skeezy dudes with their long greasy, stringy hair that you see working the carnival rides) for a while, they began inviting other couples to stay over at Karen’s country house for a weekend of dungeon play. I cannot imagine what would’ve happened if her mom & dad paid her a surprise visit when this was going on, can you?
Eventually, they married, believe it or not. Before the wedding, she set up a pedicure appointment for him with me & I could not even look that man in the eye the whole time I was working on his feet. I felt truly grossed out just touching him & I wondered if he knew that I knew what sexual escapades they enjoyed. Even if he did he probably would not have even been embarrassed, but I certainly was.
She eventually stopped coming to me just before their divorce (big surprise to no one except her), but I still do her mother’s nails. Spilling your guts to your nail tech about such personal things tends to embarrass people once they’ve had the time & the space to reflect on it, you know?
So ladies listen up……if you like the way your tech does your nails DO NOT talk to her about your private sex life. One thing’s for sure, tho…I will go to my grave & never reveal any of this to her sweet mother!