Deprivation

It is interesting how taking one thing away seems to enhance the rest, I muse as I watch your lips brushing carefully, tentatively, against the inside of my knee. It seems that both of us are simultaneously realizing the intricacies of my anatomy because you have to feel your way with your mouth, the silk fold I put over your eyes shielding them from our world, making all your other senses so much more important, so much more acute.

It is quite obvious how taking away your hands, so neatly cuffed behind your back, enhances the rest of your senses. Interesting how the use of hands, the feeling our way around, the support, the guidance afforded by them, is so intimately connected to what makes us feel ‘human’. Without the use of them you seem so much more like a pretty little animal, nudging and leaning your way towards your goal. Your whole body, your being, is involved in every movement, rather than the disconnect of reaching out, had your hands been free, as you feel your way up along my inner thigh. My rock-hard cock brushes against your temple, some pre-cum attaching itself to your hair, before you turn your head to make me feel your lips over my length.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair, the motion pushing my cock into your face. Even the fact that you are without clothes seems to give another quality to you, apart from the obvious pleasure of seeing all of you. You hold your body differently when unclothed and being seen, every part of you more aware of itself, more taut than if it was hidden behind clothes. There is a gracefulness to someone nude, a heightened awareness of each little part of your body. A way of feeling every motion, every posture, knowing that it is given to me, and that I demand nothing but the unfiltered unsheathed you as I look at you, that makes my slut seem so much more in her body.

And, I think to myself, groaning as you take me into your mouth completely, your throat pulsing around me for a moment as it protests the intrusion, my hand gently sliding up in your hair, enjoying its silkiness and my control over you, there is so much more that you become when I take away your freedom.

Hands

I turn around to see you after I let the leash attached to your collar fall. The end of it now hangs somewhere between your legs. It's the only thing partially covering your naked smooth sex.

Even though your eyes are covered by the blindfold, I can see your nervousness when I let the leash fall and break the connection between us. Suddenly you are alone, even more blinded and helpless than before.

I put my hand on your shoulder. Your skin is soft, smooth, warm with the situation, with your exposedness, with your need. I feel the relief of once more being connected with me, when I touch you - but also the shivering excitement right beneath your surface, and then the humiliation when I order you to spread your legs to let yourself be seen. My order confirm to you what you must already have sensed: that here are others in the room.  The moment you realize that I sense the sweet humiliation - the moment of resistance and 'this cannot be true' melting away as you resign yourself to being exhibited, embrace the fact that you're exhibited, powerless - that goes through you as a slight shaking from your core and all the way to the tips of your toes.

‘Much better’, I smile - even though you can only hear the smile in my voice. I caress you slowly with the side of my finger, I let it run over the softness of your skin along your upper arm while I enjoy the look of how your slender figure is enhanced and displayed by the dark corset, by the collar that makes you mine, by the nipples that are lifted above the corset, presented, naked and rock hard.

You sense the men in the room around you, their nearness, warmth, breath and then... after a nod of me, your owner, hands all over your body.