Every house has at least one dirty, little secret. It could be that water once filled the basement and was left there for months to drown the rats. Or maybe something worse.

Oregon laws spell out exactly what has to be disclosed at the time of a real estate transaction. And what - surprisingly - doesn't.

Real estate agents don't have to investigate to see if someone was violently murdered inside a house or if meth was cooked there. That's left for the sellers to tell, and, they might be reluctant to do so. "Oh, by the way, that red splatter on the wall under the picture window. There's a story there..."

If a seller doesn't disclose it and an agent doesn't see it, you could end up with a home with a stained reputation. And maybe a ghost.

OK, that's extreme. But who hasn't walked into a house, bristled at the sight of coarse AstroTurf covering kitchen cabinets or a DIY depiction of Dante's inferno on a ceiling, and said, "That's gotta go."

Some home seekers have encountered uncomfortable, even gross parts of a house that they accepted as part of the deal. Typically, the plan is to scrub it clean, remove it or in the worse case, pull the house down and start over.

Let's call it erasing icky.

Here's the first in a series of icky-erasing success stories. In this example, an Oregon couple changed a secret sex suite into a sweet playroom for their grandchildren.

The couple, who were looking for a place in which to spend their retirement years, found a three-level house in Oregon that had everything they needed: A large office space where they could continue to work until they kissed off their careers, a gourmet kitchen in which to cook meals for their grown kids and enough spare bedrooms so the grandkids could stay over.

The husband and wife were ready to make an offer on the house but they were held back by a few locked doors. It seems the owner wasn't ready to show off his upstairs sex suite or a closet near the game room that held a big vault.

"The seller's real estate agent's comment was, 'It's no big deal,'" recalls the husband, who like his wife asked that their names not be published. "We were told that the owner had personal belongings stored there and his agent didn't have the key. Our agent said that we wouldn't buy a house if we couldn't see all of it."

The wide-eyed couple were, however, led to the underground medieval dungeon and next to it, the home theater with blood red walls and velour-like theater seats. Adult DVDs spilled out of cabinets and off shelves.

This didn't dissuade them.

After seeing dozens of other houses for sale, they circled back to this one, and finally learned what was behind the locked doors.

"Our real estate agent, who has a proper English accent, called and said, 'So here's the thing,'" recalls the wife. "'That's where he keeps his porn and sex toys and other stuff he doesn't want you to see. Does that turn you off to the house?'"

The wife wondered if there were swings hanging from the ceiling, but otherwise the couple shrugged it off. They said they didn't care what the owner had been doing in the house since they planned to change things anyways.

In the end, they did more than paint and remove the mirror off the ceiling above the huge four-poster bed in the master suite.

Although they declined to buy the seller's many beds and other furniture, he left behind bins of sex toys, open liquor bottles and a very creepy vibe, according to the couple.

"How many sex toys does one guy need?" asks the husband.

The secret room was emptied, the walls painted and new carpet was installed. But it needed something else: Sage. Smudging, explains the wife, is an ancient way to cleanse negative energy to make room for positive, healing energy.

Now, she says, the space feels very different. It's a playroom for their grandchildren and the toy box is filled with G-rated stuff.

The dungeon was overhauled, too. It was dark and painted gray with dragon figures hanging on the walls. Now, walls are gold yellow and soft cushions rest on top of rock benches. Soon, custom wine racks will be installed between the stone columns.

The family uses it as a gym, meditation room and wine storage. "It's very calming now," says the wife.

The home theater was cleared of the former owner's movies and the red chairs were reupholstered in a bright, patterned fabric. "I didn't know what was on those seats and I didn't want to know," whispers the wife.

After a few more smudge ceremonies in dark corners upstairs and down, a relative, who is a Reiki master, declared the bad mojo had been expelled.

"I'm not sure about any of that woo-woo stuff," says the husband, who was also told that the spirit of the still-living owner's ex-wife might had returned to say goodbye to the place. "But the house feels very different."

Adds his wife, "We made room for new, happier memories."

--Janet Eastman



jeastman@oregonian.com

503-799-8739

@janeteastman

What dirty secrets did you find in your house? And then what did you do? Please fill out the online form.