Footsteps. Then I see his shoes in front of me. He lifts me from under my arms and places me under a big hook hanging down from the ceiling on a chain.
Cuffing my wrists with padded leather cuffs, he attaches an O-ring to one cuff and clips it to the other. Then he suspends the O-ring to the hook. I dangle with my feet just barely touching the ground. Either I have to stand on my tiptoes or put pressure on my arms and shoulders. It’s not painful but it’s slightly uncomfortable. Ian explains that it’s a position designed to increase nervous anticipation but that I should tell him if it gets painful. “Okay,” I whisper, deciding the position is doing an admirable job of making me nervous.
“I’m going to take away your sight and sound, Ella, so all you’ll have left of your senses is to feel and taste. Okay?”
“Taste?” I ask, breathless now.
“Yes, taste. And here I thought my enunciation was superb.”
“I’m just not used to taste being something we… explore… in this room.”
“Oh, Ella, there’s so much you’re not used to doing in here, but we have lots and lots of time ahead of us, hopefully.”
“Can you promise that I won’t be, uh, tasting anything disgusting?”
He laughs. “Promise. Now close your eyes; the blindfold is going on.”
He wraps a black satin blindfold around my head. His voice is suddenly in my ear, whispering loudly, “Now your ears,” and I feel earphones descend over my head, covering my ears so fully that I cannot hear a thing. In the past we used earphones once, but there was music playing.
It’s amazing how being sensory-deprived makes you feel so differently, so quickly. The moment he takes away my hearing, I feel bereft—so lonely and so vulnerable that I almost begin to cry. But Ian doesn’t allow me time to sink; he immediately starts the tactile sensations.
Things touch my bare skin: soft, hard, cold, hot. He rubs something against my lips, urging me to open them. The level of trust this entails is titanic but I now have deep wells of it for him so I part my lips and he inserts something for me to bite. The texture is bumpy and cool and when I bite into it, I immediately identify the food: a fresh strawberry. I can feel the juice running down my chin but instead of feeling messy, it feels decadent because I’m naked. I feel his tongue licking the juice off my chin; the sensation makes me very hot.
He must know that for the next thing I feel is cool, something soft and cool right on my breasts. It doesn’t stay on long for his tongue once again begins to lap it off. Then I feel his lips on mine and when I open to him, his tongue invades and I get a mouthful of… whipped cream. Mmm.
Back to tactile, he uses feathers, silk, a rough fabric, an ice cube, something hot, perhaps a heating pad, something akin to long fingernails skates down my back, down my legs, and then up the front of my body. When it reaches my breasts, his mouth closes over one and he bites down softly. I can feel the vibrations of my moan, I can hear it echo inside my head, but I can’t judge the volume—these earphones are impenetrable.
Back to the food: a chilled cucumber, a salty almond, a kiwi, a piece of dark chocolate and… suddenly something ice cold and wet runs down the front of my body. He begins to lick it off. Is he going to use his tongue on my entire body? Well, the short answer is yes.
He begins to lick then stops and kisses me. I taste the sharp tang of lime and tequila. Damn, was it a margarita? I would much rather guzzle it than have it poured over my body. He gives me a sip from the glass and I could taste the salt around the rim.
He licks more off… and then gives me another sip. And so on. When he’s through, he takes out the toys: something sharp and vibrating crosses over my breasts and stomach. A slippery dildo slides into me and then a smaller one goes up the other way. Both are vibrating erratically. First slow then fast then slow again. I can’t sink into a rhythm and I’m sure that’s his intention. My shoulders and calves are beginning to ache because I’ve been alternating between them, trying to shift my weight back and forth.
He must sense my fatigue for I’m suddenly lowered to the floor and he scoops up my ankles so I keep going down. When the chain stops, I’m sitting on the floor, and he presses himself against my mouth. I open for him and when he slides his erection in I taste chocolate: melted chocolate. Mmm. I lick every drop of it.
After a few minutes, he pulls out of me, unhooks my cuffs and I feel myself go weightless: he’s carrying me. He places me on a padded bench, stomach resting on it but my head and upper body dangle over the other side. He gets behind me and slowly removes the dildo, replacing it with himself. I can feel the vibrations from the other one and I know he can too. He slips something under my front and it begins to vibrate too, a maddeningly staccato rhythm that begins to drive me crazy. When I let myself whine, he changes the rhythm to a steady one and it doesn’t take me long to reach the top.