Unearthed (The Dungeon Black Duology 1)

So Sean had gone for it, half hoping that Max would say no, half praying to God he’d say yes. And when he did, Sean had tingled all over. With that curious current of anticipation one felt when facing something risky. Not knowing how it’d turn out. If he’d regret his decision, or brand it the best choice he’d ever made. One thing Sean did have a very strong sense of, was that no matter what Max allowed him to see, Sean would be coming up those stairs a different guy. It was an overly-dramatic thing to predict. He knew it was. Yet still, he had no doubt. Hopefully it’d be for the better and not the worse.

They came to another door further down the hall, right before the kitchen’s entrance. Max peered at Sean over his shoulder. His dark green eyes smoldered. Sean steeled his nerves.

No turning back.

And then that door was open and they were headed down a stairwell. Sean regarded the cool beige carpeting and the slightly darker walls, then eyed the rubbed bronze light fixtures above. Funny, he’d been expecting something a bit more goth. He grinned as each step took them steadily lower, closer and closer to Max’s dungeon. God, that one word got Sean so fucking charged. Got his heart racing like an adrenaline junkie. Would the place scare the shit out of him? Be some depraved medieval torture chamber? Or would it turn out that Max was just fucking with him, and the place was just a normal room with toys?

They reached the bottom and, straightaway, Sean detected a medley of different smells. Furniture polish. Lemon. That was the strongest. The next was much fainter but recognizable. Sweat. From exertion. Maybe coming from Scott’s gym? The subtlest scents, though, were candle wax and leather, which Sean quickly presumed came from Max’s den. Sean looked at the two doors straight ahead. Max moved to the one on the left. Guess Scott’s space was to the right.

Max gripped the doorknob, then paused in mid-turn. Had he changed his mind? Was he having second thoughts?

Max looked at Sean. Shit, that fire in his eyes. Nope, he definitely hadn’t changed his mind. Shit, he looked ready to rock and roll.

His lips curved wryly as he resumed turning the handle. “Here we go, pretty boy. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He shoved the door open and flipped on the light, then casually led the way. Like they were going into the kitchen or something. No big deal. Just a room full of—

“Ohhhhh shit.” Sean’s eyes went wide as saucers. His mouth dropped open, too.

Good God, the place was surreal. And way more intense than he’d expected. Stalled out just inside the doorway, he swallowed and looked around. The place did look like some torture chamber, from its ominous contraptions to its gray concrete floor. But bizarrely, it also held this weird air of class. Made no sense. Felt totally contradictory. And yet, well, there it was. A large, dim-lit room with glossy, black cinder block walls, minus the one straight ahead. That wall was one giant floor-to-ceiling mirror, making the sordid chamber look twice as spacious. To the left, Sean noted two other doors, while the right wall looked like a fully extended partition. The remaining two sides showcased several blood-red wall displays, where countless curious items were neatly hung. Some were recognizable; paddles and crops. The other things, though? Not so much.

Max sauntered to a black leather couch to the right, situated against the wall. “Go on. Have a look.” He dropped down on the cushions. “It’s just a harmless basement. It won’t bite.”

Sean forced a joking grin. “You sure about that? Looks pretty intimidating from here.” And it really, truly did. Intimidating as fuck. But it also looked inexplicably incredible. Sex and kink and unfettered fun wrapped up in one big, perilous package.

Max smirked. “I’m sure. It’s just a vehicle, though. It’s the driver you should be wary of.”

Sean pulled his gaze from his surroundings to look at Max. It was clear who he’d meant. Who he’d been referring to. Himself. The dungeon master. The keeper of all this crazy.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sean smiled and got moving, heading tentatively toward the closest contraption. “Wow. A pillory. This certainly fits the dungeon theme.” He glanced back at Max. “Use it a lot?”

Max shrugged, eyes hooded. “No more than the others.”

Fuck, Max was staring at him. Watching him hard. Sean’s pulse raced faster. More tingles. He moved on to the next peculiar piece of furniture. It reminded him of a picnic table with benches on either side. But it was smaller, and skinnier, with long black cushions stretching the length of its tabletop and seats.

He eyed the thing curiously. “So, uh… What’s this?”

“A spanking bench.”

“A spanking bench?”