The power of sensory deprivation

shutterstock_76474024

(This post is not suitable for under 18s. Please go and read elsewhere.)

Those of us fortunate to have the use of all five senses sometimes take them for granted, even when we are involved in an erotic act. We feel the touch of someone’s hand, we smell their arousal, we see the soft curves of a woman’s body, or the muscle definition on a man’s chest, we hear the soft whispers into our ears that are intended to send the erotic messages straight to the pleasure part of our brains, and we taste the beads of sweat running down the other person’s body as we run our tongues over their slightly salty skin. These senses combine to arouse us, and if used to maximum effect, can turn ordinary sex into an erotic, sensual experience.

What a lot of people also know is that the restriction of one of these senses can increase the sexual tension as the remaining senses become heightened and more powerful. Thus a person deprived of sound might find that their sense of taste or touch is more powerful as a result. In my book Out of the Darkness, Marianne, a beautiful submissive model, is blindfolded by William, a Dominant man, so that she cannot anticipate whether she is to experience pleasure or pain. She finds that the loss of her sight heightens her remaining senses, so that her erotic experience is lifted to a higher level and the pleasure for them both is magnified. Enjoy the experience with them.

*****

The room was almost dark, with just flickers of light coming from the logs burning in the hearth. I could just see his shape, sitting in the leather, wing-backed chair, silhouetted by the fire.

“Come here.”

His voice was quiet, but with the firmness I had come to expect from him. I moved closer and knelt down in front of him, my naked bottom facing the warmth of the fire. I bent my head downwards and looked at the floor as I had been taught, but he surprised me by lifting up my chin with his hand.

“You look so beautiful.”

He bent and kissed me softly on the lips, and I shivered in anticipation. Was it to be pleasure or pain this time? Or perhaps a combination of both, delivered the way that only he can. He produced a dark, silk scarf from the arm of the chair and tied it around my eyes so that the gloom of the room was reduced to complete darkness. I could feel his breath on my bare shoulders as he tied it tightly at the back of my head. He stood and pulled me up with him.

“Hands behind your back.”

I obeyed immediately. He turned me around to face away from him and I felt the click as he connected the wristbands together so that my hands were firmly connected.

“Stay.”

I heard him move away for just a few seconds, returning swiftly to stand in front of me. I trembled, not knowing what was in his mind or what was probably now in his hand. I felt something soft and ticklish brush against my breasts.

“What is this?”

I racked my brain to put a name to the sensation. The soft tickle moved to the inside of my thigh as it brushed slowly up my leg from my knee, almost to… he stopped, waiting for me to answer his question.

“It is a feather, Master.”
”Very good. It is a soft, white feather.” He was silent a moment. “Now what is this?”
I was jolted out of my reverie by a sudden swishing noise and a sharp sting on my breast.

“It is a crop, Master.”
”Yes, you are correct.”
He reached forward and his lips grazed my left ear lobe, sending a shiver straight to my sex.

He whispered into my ear. “Now which one should I use first, do you think?”
He knew that the blindfold added greatly to the anticipation. If I couldn’t see what was coming, I could not ready myself for whichever sensation to expect.
 He walked around me, the occasional feel of his clothes as they caught against my arm or leg all that reminded me he was still there. I could not see him but I knew he was watching me intently. Several seconds passed and nothing happened. My senses were on edge, trying to anticipate when and where he would strike first. I shivered as the feather stroked down the middle of my back, the first touch. Would it be the feather again?

I felt the same sensation on the back of my calf. I was sure that the crop would come next, but he was lulling me into a sense of relaxed bliss and used the feather yet again, this time drawing it between my legs, barely touching the lips of my sex, yet setting off a yearning deep within me.

One second later a fiery burning crossed my bottom as the crop was lashed across it. Even though I knew that it was coming, it seemed to have come from nowhere. My bottom cheek was still burning when a fresh sting came from the front of my thigh. My breath caught in my throat.

“Breathe, my darling. Don’t forget to breathe.”

He kissed me softly on my shoulder and I felt the feather touch my belly and slide downwards. I breathed quickly several times, totally lost in the sensations that were pulsing through my mind and my body as I struggled to cope with the intensity of what he was doing. He was controlling me completely, body and soul. I gave myself totally to this man. I trusted him completely. I adored him.

He stopped for a moment and I felt his warm fingers slide down my body and between my thighs, where the dampness revealed the depth of my pleasure. He pushed two fingers into me and used his thumb to rub my clitoris until I could not stop from groaning.

He laughed gently. “No, my darling, you haven’t earned your pleasures yet. Move over here and rest your hands on the chair.

He moved me gently towards the leather armchair in which he had been sitting, and pressed my body downwards until my hands were flat on the chair seat. I could feel the warmth of the fire on my bottom as I arched my back and spread my legs apart in the way he had taught me. I was ready for him and I knew that he was watching me for any little deviation from the rules. If I moved from that position the strokes would be increased, so I stood absolutely still – waiting for him.

Without warning he began to use the crop across my buttocks, but this time there was no soft feather between the strokes. This time the strokes were hard and quick. The teasing and the waiting between each stroke were gone. Again and again he brought the crop down until my cheeks were stinging. It was painful, but it was also intensely pleasurable as I absorbed the impact of each stroke and gloried in the fact that I was loved and desired by my Master, the most exciting man I had ever known.

That excerpt was taken from my book, Out of the Darkness.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s