The hard tiles are cold against your face as you lay on the floor of what was once your man cave and is now The Teacher’s fuck room. Brightly lit, with a tile floor and walls and a large drain in the middle of the floor, you appreciate the ease of cleanup. There are rings and hooks on the floors and walls. There are some pieces of “furniture” like a saw horse, a bondage frame, and a rack of toys like whips, chains, and dildos. A garden hose reel is mounted on one wall. There is a contraption mounted to the ceiling that your wife won’t tell you about. You asked the installer what it was, but he just laughed and sprayed his cum all over your face.
Of course, you aren’t thinking about any of that now. You are face down on the cold tile. Your wrists and ankles are chained to rings in the floor, your wrists together and stretched out in front of you and your ankles spread wide. Your hips are over a low wooden bench, lifting them so your ass is up in the air. Your cage, still locked from when The Teacher put it on you weeks ago, is also chained to the floor and pulls with every motion of your body.