Sensory Deprivation 1 - 3.26.05

Part 1.  Written by Courtney.  My reponse follows

Oh my god! Lastnight was an amazing experience. Imagine this....

You are in a group of 30 people. You only know one of them, your husband. Another you know from a previous encounter, but not very well. You are standing in the middle of the room, all eyes are on you. Your hands are cuffed above your head and you see nothing but black. All you can hear is white noise, and his voice, every now and again, asking gently "Are we still doing ok?"

Then you feel something. Something you arent sure of. You feel hands all over you. This amazing gental touch of fingers caressing your skin. A soft air against your skin from his lips. You feel feathers, a flog, something scratchy and pokey all over your very vulnerable body. You know there are people watching you. You legs start to feel weak and your body starts to tremble with excitement. You want to scream out "More! More! Harder! Harder!" But you cant speak. You are so lost in yourself and whats happening to you, you cant say a word. All you can do is nod your head when he asks, or pick up your foot if he asks. You are at his complete mercy.

Your body trembles even more and you arent sure if you can stand on your own. Your hands are tingling from hanging on so tight and the cuffs cutting off blood supply to them. But you dont care because you have never felt anything like this before. So lost, yet it feels so amazing. Like you are supposed to be there. You dont ever want to leave that place.

He lifts your head gently, and slowly lifts the blindfold, yet you cant seem to open your eyes. You have been deprived of the light, yet you crave to have the dark come back. A blinding light enters your eyes as you try to open them. He tells you to look at him, but you can only do so for a second or so. He stands close to you and you feel your body fall into him, and he graciously accepts your hot sweaty skin onto his. He holds you close for a moment and lets you relax a bit and feel comforted. He asks, "Can you stand on your own?" You really dont know how to answer him. "I think I might need a little help," you reply. He wraps his arm around your waist and lifts an arm and unfastens you. Then the other side. If he wasnt there holding you, you wouldnt be standing. He slowly helps you to the floor and and you see all the eyes you have forgotten about. Yet you dont seem to care. You are still soaring high. So high you think you may never come down.

He sits next to you and shows you all the different, all the wonderful little toys he used on you. A flog with little hearts on it, a spur, a brush, his fingers. His wonderful, soft fingers. It was amazing.

You look around and everything looks different. A little less threatening. You cant wait to have another experience like this. To feel like you are flying. To feel like nothing else in this world matters. *Sigh*

There is always next time *wink*

Part 2.  Written by Switch.

 You step up to the spotlight, confident that you know what you are doing but only having actually done it once before. Someone trusts you, trusts you to restrain them, in public even, and do to them as you will.

You sort of know this person but not very well. Her husband is sitting, watching, and you don't know what his reaction is going to be since they've never really done this before. It's fine to be okay with something in theory but putting it into practice is a whole nother world.

Sound pulses through a set of headphones in your hands. You wrote the track for just this purpose. A blindfold renders your partner sightless and the sonic assault of white noise with a hint of rhythm takes her into a personal void. No sight, no sound, tons of sound, nothing discernable, no bearings. Her hands are lifted above her head, one on each side, adding helplessness to the emotional overload she has chosen to bear.

Nervous, yes. But the presence of sixty eyes all around, two of them her love's, give her permission to let go and enjoy the forthcoming ride.

The sound has been split so that the room can hear your cacophonous creation in synchonicity with her in your charge. A microphone lies next to you enabling you to send your voice straight into her ears. She can hear nothing, everything in a crazy jumble. And she can hear you.

A crash in the music brings a touch upon her arm. It's important to train her so that you can condition her response. Another crash, another touch, this time on a distant part of her body, somewhere she's not expecting. You see her startled look as she lurches at the impact. You know that this is going well.

A riding crop slides up her leg, up the side of her body, up her arm. Another crash and the crop connects with her ass, generating another surprised lurch. Another crash, another impact. Another crash, another impact. Another crash, she winces in anticipation....... this time there is no impact.

And then it hits just as she relaxes her mind, confident of a momentary break. The earlier surprises created lovely reactions but this time she jumps!

A touch, a crop, an absence, what is coming next?

Her eyes are probably closed even though the blindfold already robs her sight. Her lips are held tight as the droning continues in her ears. What will you do next?

You reach over and pick up a furry flogger toy. After the impacts she will find this a welcome and unexpected change. But this whole experiment is about the unexpected. Maybe you should grab the little spiked wheel, that will create a wonderful conflict of sensations.

So far most of your impacts have occured on their own, each strike a solo performance reminding her that you are there and that you are in control. A touch. Then a crop. Then a pause.

Three crashes pass and you are ready for the fourth. It's important to keep her guessing but you're excited enough right now that you feel she's waited long enough.

You are in control and the air you blow up and down her vulnerable neck reminds her of that. It's power but it's also personal and a interesting shade of tender.

The fourth crash arrives and the furry flogger slides up her calves and is immediately followed by the spiked wheel rolling on her arm. The fur would be gentle and would reconnect her to the outside world but there was no way she'd see the wheel coming.

Her response is perfect: an audible sigh of relief and anticipation when the fur makes contact with her legs. A startled jolt when the wheel spikes upon her arm a moment later. Keep her guessing, keep it moving, keep it varied.

More crashes, more fur and wheel play. There is no coordination now between the action and the sound but this is by design. You established the rules, you can change them and there is nothing she can do about it.

A glance to her husband. He is doing okay but shows a little concern. You'd be disappointed if this wasn't the case. She is so far into her own little world that he can't read how she is doing. You understand this because it's hard for you to read her too and you are so much closer to her at the moment. Your voice rings though the microphone as you check in to see how she is doing. Lift your foot if all is well: the foot lifts. All is well.

More of the same. Shuffle. Repeat. Mix it up, keep her guessing. This new world she is in is better than any drug. No vision, no sound beyond the storm of static. Which way is up? Which way is down? What is coming next? Where the fuck am I and can I stay here forever? This is what you want to create and this is what she feels.

The intensity of this process alters the perception of time. You look down and realize that twenty minutes have passed. This is not too long but to go any longer on a first trip would be irresponsible. Her two primary senses are still blinded and to awaken them must be a gentle process. You reach over and slowly remove the blindfold. She blinks and again closes her eyes, she has feasted on this new and glorious world and doesn't want to return.

Giving her a second to readjust to at least having the option of sight you remove the headphones and whisper into her ear: Look at me. She's still gone but throws a short glance your way, again closing her eyes almost immediately. It's vital that you know that she is still okay so you ask again. This time she obliges a little longer, putting your mind at ease.

She's weak, her wrists and her knees have unconsciously supported her entire weight during this whole time-dilated experience. She can't stand and even if she thought she could you probably wouldn't believe her. Holding her at the waist, supporting her body you release one wrist from above, then the other.

Relief, release, some form of adoration and a lack of trust in her own ability to stand engulf her and she wraps her arms around you, back in this world but not entirely, clinging to the place you took her and now to you, the creator of that world.

You help her to the floor, it's much safer to be sitting than standing in her condition. She's still in a zone and you spend a minute with her, unwinding a little. She starts to surface and it is time for something, someone familiar, comforting and safe. You call her man over and he nurtures her from there.

Stepping back, you remind yourself to take a deep breath.

A job well done.