The World’s Sexiest Dungeons

NYC15511Photo by Susan Meiselas

Ever wondered what a real, professional BDSM dungeon looks like? Well, from personal experience, I can say that some are very elegant and ornate, while others are far trashier, and tend to be located in unassuming office buildings in gross areas of midtown, on a floor just above, like, a pottery class, and just below an insurance company. Random.

Generally, what most professional, “for-hire” dungeons offer is a selection of rooms, each decorated to create a different mood, and to cater to the differing tastes and fetishes of their Dommes and clients. Often, each room has a theme, for instance: medical room, boudoir, chamber, prison, “red room,” mortuary, classroom, or simply your classic bondage dungeon. Each room will generally have a variety of BDSM furniture to suit the theme, for instance: cages, spanking benches, morgue tables, bondage beds, thrones, isolation rooms, dentist chairs, mummification benches, suspension frames, etc. Dungeons will often have pro-Dommes working on site, and some allow independent Dommes to hire out rooms for sessions. I recently went into an internet black hole researching some of the world’s most glamorous dungeons. Below is a selection of images of some of my favorites. Enjoy!

1. A dungeon in Astoria, Queens (NYC), that shares a building with a dance academy for young girls–something that doesn’t make their parents very happy, weirdly.

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2. A dungeon-for-rent in Logan Square, Chicago:




3. This is dungeon is of unknown location–it’s kind of sterile, but it’s funny that at first glance it sort of just looks like a gym:

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4. This uber chic dungeon is in LA, and owned by Mistress Justine Cross:

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5. This super cute dungeon was created by some freak on Second Life. Wish it was real!



6. Be tortured in style in this fetish bed and breakfast in London:



7. Below is a photo of a bondage room in the love hotel, Hotel Adonis, in Osaka, Japan. Sadly, it no longer exists.

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8. And I saved the best for last. Below are photos taken inside the original Pandora’s Box in NYC, one of the most infamous BDSM dungeons in the world. All photos are by Susan Meiselas, taken in the 90s. A couple weeks ago I posted the amazing documentary Fetishes, by Nick Broomfield, which was filmed inside this dungeon. If you like the below photos, and haven’t watched Fetishes yet, I highly recommend it!



Am I Normal? – Cum Slave and Male Escort

One of my dominatrix clients is a businessman in his early 50s who likes to be treated like a whore and forced to eat his own cum. We’ve been doing sessions together for a year now, and over time we’ve become pretty good friends. Sometimes we hang out casually, just to chat. Like for example we’ll go have sushi and talk about Rihanna, and then afterward we’ll go back to the dungeon and I’ll ride him around like a horse. My sub (let’s call him Cum Slut) is always fun to talk to because he has endless crazy sex stories, starting from back when he first immersed himself in NYC’s S&M scene in the early 80s. Something I didn’t know about Cum Slut until recently, however, is that in his 20s he worked as a male escort. Edgy. I recently interviewed him about his prostitution days, and you can read the result below.

Slutever: So you were a male escort?
Cum Slut: Yeah, when I was in my twenties.

How did you get into doing sex work?
I worked as a parking lot attendant at a sex club on 34th Street called Plato’s Retreat. You should look it up some time. That place was like ancient Rome. They threw crazy swingers parties, there was a pool inside, all the rooms had beds in them, and one night of the week would be S&M night. While I had that job, a couple different times people who hung out at the club propositioned me, and those were my first experiences with prostitution.

Did you like working at the club?
Not really. I had to do a lot of clean up stuff, which wasn’t fun. One night somebody set a fire in one of the beds and the employees had to put it out. It was started a husband who was mad at his wife for fucking a bunch of guys. He wanted her to stop, but she wouldn’t stop and he got upset about it. She stopped when the fire broke out.

What year was this?
This was 1984, 85.

It’s weird that people were fucking strangers so freely during the height of the AIDS epidemic.
Yes, it was scary. Everybody was using condoms though.

So how did the people proposition you?
Well there was this one woman and her husband who I saw come into the club a few times. I was friendly with them, and the guy didn’t feel uncomfortable around me. One night they showed up and I parked their car and they tipped me $80. Now back then, that was a lot of money. And then at the end of the night when I bought their car back the woman just said, “So do you want take us home?”

That’s a good line.
Yeah it was. And off we went. The the next time they showed up they tipped me over $100 for parking–it was kind of like a ‘wink’–and I went back with them a second time.

How did you get further into prostitution from there?
Well after that I met this other woman named Anna. She was an escort, and she asked me if I would be her driver and security guard. How it usually works with escorts is that their agency sets them up with clients, and then they’re driven around from job to job by a bouncer type. In this case the agency actually provided the car as well. So I told her yeah, I would do it.

What was that like?
Basically I had a beeper that would tell me what addresses to take her to, and I got $25 an hour to drive her around for the evening, and I spent most of the time just waiting in the car on my own. For the first ten minutes that she was inside with a new client I’d have to be ready to jump, or to call the cops if something went wrong, but nothing ever went wrong. The agencies have this stuff on pretty heavy lock-down. Even back then they were screening the clients. Guys would have to show a drivers license and give information about where they worked–stuff like that. It was pretty worry-free. Or at least it was with this agency, I’m not sure how everybody else did it.

You never had one single problem?
No. I had a couple girls walk out of places. If they felt like a situation was weird, they would just leave and come back to the car. When the guys are weird or freak you out, you just have to trust your instincts and get out of there. But anyway, I ended up being the driver for this woman for like a year and a half, and at a certain point I started to go in and do scenes with her sometimes, if the client requested it. Or sometimes the client would be a couple and they’d want another couple, and that’s how I got back into sex work.

What was your role in the scenes?
I was the bull. The Dom. Amazing how things change, right?

Do you like being dominant?
Yeah, I’m a switch.

Wow, I would have never guessed that from the sessions you and I do together where you beg me for cock and ball torture. I’m a switch too.
You wouldn’t know from what I’ve told you. I would have guessed that you are a switch though. Also, I guess that’s pretty evident from your blog.

Lol true. So with Anna, was it a mindfuck that you spent so much time with her and were fucking each other so often? Did you end up liking each other?
Yeah we did. We ended up having a two month thing where we thought we might actually like each other, but because we were working together so often, something about the relationship was just off. I can’t explain it, I think there was just too much familiarity. When I first started driving her around all I wanted to do was fuck her. I would get sort of jealous when she would go in and see other guys. Then when our affair started, for the first couple weeks I thought I was in heaven, but it wore off fast because we always had to go back to work.

What was she like?
She had great taste and wore amazing clothes. Her winter coat–I’ll never forget it–was the most beautiful shearling wool winter coat I’ve ever seen. It was like what Vikings wore. It must have cost at least ten grand, and that was in the 80s. She once talked to me about how she did business, and she said, “I never talk about money. I just only go after the guys who I know have it.” Basically she would leave it up to her clients to decide how much to leave her, but she would never discuss money with them, because talking about money is awkward. That’s really what you’re striving for if you’re working as an escort–you want your clients to be the type who you know will treat you well, without you having to ask.

How long did you work with her?
About three years. But I ended up working on my own sometimes too.

How much did you make?
Back then it was like $175 an hour. I’d get $75 and the agency would get $100. I didn’t like splitting the money obviously, but I liked that it was safe, and that the agency would sort everything out and all I had to do was show up.

What else did you like about the job?
I looked at it like opening magic doors at night, where I would always see or hear something new. And getting head from guys was cool.

Why, are they better at it than girls?
Most are. In purely physical terms, anyway. Men just know what they’re working with. But for me, when I’m getting head from a woman, there’s the additional element that I might like her, which makes the sexual interaction better. I don’t have love for men in the same way that I do for women.

Do you think prostitution is a good job?
It depends how it’s done, like anything. But I think it definitely has an expiration date. I would see it taking a toll on some of the women over time. The job can result in a lot of compulsive behavior. Smoking and drinking especially, and drugs―all the things that are ‘the devil’ [laughs].

Well I can imagine that fucking a series of strangers is not the sort of thing you want to do sober.
Right, exactly.

And lastly, why do you think you are drawn to these extremes of sexuality?
Well, I listened to this really great interview on Howard Stern the other day. He was interviewing this gay man who’s now found God, but at one point he was doing really hardcore sex stuff–bondage scenes, pissing, lots of gangbangs, being punched in the face and knocked out, etc.–and the man was saying that he ritualized sex in order to learn about himself, that sex was about self-analysis. And I really understand that. I find sex very illuminating.

So what has sex taught you about yourself?
Well in an obvious way it’s taught me what turns me on, and what scenarios excite me. But to go deeper than that, I would say I’ve learned that I have a certain capability for compartmentalization. And that applies to things in my life far beyond sex. I’ve learned that as people, there are important aspects of ourselves that are always present, yet are not always evident.

New Pee Comics

Photo by Sandy Kim

My pee slave, Brad, gave me a couple new comic strips when he came over my apartment yesterday for a golden shower. The deal is that I pee and spit into his mouth, and occasionally kick him in the head or whatever, and in turn he gives me money and specially-made comic strips, all of which are themed around–duh!–urine. My refrigerator door is covered in these things. Brad is cool and stuff, and his comics always make me laugh, but TBH it’s annoying when, after I pee into his mouth, he sometimes starts choking and pukes some of the pee back up onto my floor. It’s like, “Uggghhhh, seriously Brad? Get yourself together.”

Enjoy Brad’s pee comics. Happy Saturday :)

And another one…

Pee Comix and Such

Here’s the latest comic strip made for me by my pee slave, Brad. Brad makes me one of these lovely little drawings every time we meet up for a golden shower session. Seriously, the guy loves drinking my pee so much, he can never seem to get enough of the stuff. (Except maybe for that one time where he literally puked back up my urine in front of me– apparently that time he had a little too much.)

I’ve recently been feeling tempted to taste my pee myself, to see what all the fuss is about, as according to Brad it tastes so good I could “bottle it and sell it for gold.” I asked my boyfriend to taste it the other day too, but he just said “Eww no” and then told me to leave his apartment. After I promised not to pee on him he said I could stay, but then later when I asked him if he wanted to experiment with my new horsetail butt-plug (#PonyPlay) he made a disgusted face and then told me to leave again.

How could anyone not find this hot?!

Finally I gave up and asked him if he would just have normal, non-pee, non-horsetail sex with me, and he said “Only if you help me take down the trash.” I agreed and then we had sex and it was really great. The end.

On to the comic!

Selling My Soul

So remember the other day when I said some Australian creep paid me $75 for a piece of paper with my spit and cum on it? Well here’s a photo of the letter I sent him. Blogging about this little exchange turned out to be a good idea, as it’s already inspired a few other random creeps to place orders–one from a guy who wants pictures of me in nylon tights and another from a guy who wants a video of me saying his name over and over. Ca-ching! All in a day’s work, huh? So I guess this means I’m an entrepreneur now. Kind of like Jay-Z. Cool… Get in touch with me at if you want to “do business.”

P.S. I was recently interviewed on the wonderful I Like You podcast. Check it out if you want to hear me ramble about internet slaves, squatting, and the Vice Slutever show!

VICE Slutever Show, ep 4 – Sissy Sarah

Sup? Episode four is here! I met the legendary Sissy Sarah! Check it out!

So after this week the show will be on hiatus for a few weeks, but we will be back with more episodes very soon. More stuff about BDSM and some stuff about orgasms too. Woo, orgasms! Also, if you have stuff, people, or specific topics you think we should feature on the Vice Slutever show, please feel free to mention them in the comments. I would appreciate knowing what you want to see. Xoxo

VICE Slutever Show, ep 3 – Book Bitch

Hey guys! The third episode of the VICE Slutever show, “Book Bitch”, is here! Many long term readers of this blog (hey guys!) will remember Book Bitch–the nickname for my former internet slave. If not, here’s some background info:

Like many of us, I used to have a slave who paid my rent. (#casual) How I met my slave was: about a year ago, while browsing one of my favorite fetish forums, I started chatting with a submissive guy from London who informed me that he was a “cash pig”. Cash pig is the BDSM term for someone who’s into financial domination. (They can also be called ‘money slaves’ or ‘human ATMs’–LOL) So basically, a cash pig is a person who gets turned on by being forced to give other people their money for no reason. I thought, “Jackpot!”

Over the following months, my new internet friend and I became pretty close. Our relationship consisted mainly of him buying me books on Amazon (which is how he earned the name Book Bitch) and Paypaling me money in exchange for degrading emails. For a while Book Bitch even started paying my rent. I wrote all about it–check out the old posts about Book Bitch here, here, here and here.

I never thought I would meet Book Bitch in person, as our relationship was so rooted in virtual abuse (and TBH it sort of creeped me out how he kept offering to fly to NYC and pay me $200 to “give me oral pleasure”). However, fate (aka VICE) ended up bringing us together… in London! Watch “Book Bitch” to find out what happened.

Cum Slut Tells a Story

I asked my new slave, who I’ve nicknamed Cum Slut (because if you remember he likes to be forced to eat his own and others’ cum and be called names like “freaky bukkake cumfaced target”–LOL) to write a little story for you all, explaining what happened during our last Domme session together. See, Cum Slut wants to be famous, and he got all excited the last time I posted an email from him (he gets off on the idea that all of you think he’s pathetic and repulsive and laugh at him behind his back) so he asked me if I would be into posting his emails and photos as an ongoing series. I said I’d think about it. Here’s the email he sent me describing our last session, as well as some pics. I have to admit, the pics are good. He definitely ate what’s in that spoon, by the way. The email could have been more detailed, and I would have appreciated more compliments, TBH.