Where do I begin?
The day I got close to being arrested, but after after pleading my case I was told…”please Sir, just turn around and leave, before this gets serious!” …would be a good place to start.
You see, my father encouraged curiosity and exploring the curious, right from me being a young child. It is now in me…deeply embedded. I just love the curious, and much to my wife’s dismay, it has led me, and her, or my friends into ‘spots of bother’.
‘Why can’t you just look from the path or road like anybody else?!” She shouted at me one day after not being a very good look out at a rambling old house up for sale, where I had found an open window. She managed to blame her stupid old fart of a husband’s curiosity. It was a rather quiet journey home, but I had seen a fabulously spookey staircase!
It has led to my study being full of old maps, lots of books and many curios.
So…. The start of the journey was my Dad, which has led me to collecting curios, and dealing in antiques. Which, eventually took me to having to leave this place, before things got serious! As I told you up the page.
I had, a while ago, acquired a map of the area, I love old maps….in this case I mean, a Victorian map, and it showed tunnels!
Now come on! You must be curious now. But imagine me! You know how I am now…an old dusty map of a place I have walked by many times, only about 20 miles away, showing tunnels…lots of long tunnels. I got out a new map…’hmmmm, they are not on on there’. Thought I to myself. So…I investigated.
It seems the 5th Duke was a bit of a recluse. He spent a lot of time in London. Local rumours said he was Jack the Ripper….unfounded, but I thought I would throw it in to keep you interested! He had his own railway station built….fantastically rich you see…coal etc…
It showed on the map that from the back of the station was a tunnel. I’ve seen it! Now it is not just a little tunnel, he had fifteen miles of them, similar to railway tunnels, big enough for a horse and carriage to take him from the station to his house and then branching out all over the estate. They were lit by gas.. some by lamps, but others by huge great flames flapping about from pipes.
Smaller tunnels led to secret passages in the house, one coming up to a trapdoor in his bedroom….sexy huh? I wonder who he had brought up there? But…BUT!…listen to this, the tunnels had rooms, all underground, ventilated, and warm. Not just little rooms, oh no, I mean a ball room, a library, a gallery and so on.
He was known as the ‘Prince of Silence’. Queen Victoria came to visit once.
Anyway enough of the history, you are here for spanking.
But before we go, look how sad it looks now, I managed to explore some tunnels…
Not quite how the entrance used to look is it?
So there is a potted history, I know it was used in the Irish troubles, for secret meetings, Margaret Thatcher etc could be rushed there in a bomb threat I suppose. So maybe the ballrooms etc still exist? Who knows. I know the building was used by the military, and the tunnels by the BBC to film Macbeth.
I know of spanking there too…
Before I got caught, I spoke to a blacksmith/farrier. I told him I was researching for a book, our conversation turned to its subject. Spanking! This research was for another story, where I plan to use tunnels…’The Inveigle’, click here…
…he said, ‘Oh a lot of that went off here!’ Then, to keep a long story short, I ended up talking to a rather pretty young woman in a business suit, who confessed to an interest in it and so we spoke of tunnels, and…spanking.
All that, is fact….
This isn’t, this is fiction…
THE STORY BEGINS…
You are a gambler, you have had a huge win, over someone they call ‘The Maverick Duke’. He dresses and looks like the Mississippi Gambler of that name…’The Maverick’. Before the game, unbeknown to you, he had researched you, he knows of your secret obsession. It is amazing what can be found out from an I.P. Address and knowing that you live alone, so all…ALL searches are your own.
He is rich beyond compare, together you talked of your shared secret obsession over a meal and a drink, in a restraunt, he confided in his family history. The fifth Duke had the same obsession. It wasn’t easy to get you talking, not with three glasses of red wine in you. Above ground his ancestor flirted with high society. Below ground, in his secret tunnels, he visited his visions. You share his visions…your secret obsession, SPANKING. The idea of ‘Spanking Vision Rooms’, excited you. Imagine your visions becoming real?
You ended up back at his house, you got drunk, you slept there.
Slowly the conversation drifts back in to your mind. You sit up on the bed, naked.
I keep mentioning YOU….Did I tell you that you are a beautiful woman? You shower and dress, and on walking back from the on-suite you see a note, on the dressing table….
Resting on the note, is a key, to a padlock. The note says quite simply, ‘enjoy yourself….you are now a member of the ‘Hardenist Club’.
You do your hair and look at the key, then remember the story of the tunnels, and the trapdoor. You roll back the Pink Persian Rug, and there it is. In a recess is a padlock in a wrought iron ancient looking hasp. It opens easily.
You pull it up, and leading down into the brick lined tunnel is a set of polished mahogany steps. Your footsteps echo, the tunnels lead all over in different directions, all lit with flickering gas flames. The hiss and flapping of the flames are soothing. You choose a corridor at random and walk, on each side and at the end are arched oak doors. Outside each room is something akin to a picture frame, in the frames are pictures, each one with a name. You walk and look at them.
These photos are not mine, this is a guest story, click here to find out more…
Click here to find out about the photographer…known as Vasarian
The first door.
The visit to room one, click here…
The second door
The third door
The fourth door
The fifth door
The sixth door
The seventh door
The eighth door
The ninth door
You walk back to the hub, and peer down each tunnel, some are much longer, one just goes on and on. That one has other tunnels leading off. You guess they have the same type of doors.
You hear a muffled thud, then a click. It’s the trapdoor.
You walk back to the first corridor. All the doors are invitingly open by two inches. Instinctively you know to strip naked. It just seems the right thing to do. Your firm full breasts lead the way. Your fine pert, yet plump bottom follows…to room one.
THE VASARIAN TUNNEL – TUNNEL ONE
TUNNEL ONE ROOM ONE…
TUNNEL ONE ROOM TWO…
THE RED CHARLS TUNNEL – TUNNEL TWO
TUNNEL TWO ROOM ONE…
TUNNEL TWO ROOM TWO…