0 comments/ 30031 views/ 0 favorites Deprivation By: Robert Newman To many people involved in BDSM the experience is about deprivation - of freedom, of movement, of choice - there are many aspects. I have a submissive girl with me here, her name is Helena. There is one thing she must be deprived of before we consider any others, and she must agree to be deprived of it - I will not use force. For the benefit of purists (although, of course, I cannot prove we are actually doing this) I shall ask her this in the text. "Helena, I ask you to relinquish to me your power of choice, in other words agree that for the rest of the day I will make your choices for you, and you will simply agree without question or hesitation. Do you agree?" "Yes Master." So now she has no choice - she has agreed to obey. The next deprivation will be of your modesty, Helena. Take off your clothes, my love, slowly so I can watch you. I love to watch her undress. For those few of you fortunate enough to have seen her pictures, description of Helena is unnecessary. For the others - she is quite tall, with nice long shapely legs. She has a cascade of brown hair down way past her shoulders, lovely sparkly eyes and medium pointy breasts which she is very sensitive about, but believe me they are very sexy, and they are very sensitive, to the point where she can easily get turned on whenever she goes out braless and the fabric rubs her nipples. I may explore that later. she does not shave her pubic bush, which we both prefer. Now she has undone her green satin blouse and her white lacy bra is on view. Below that she has a darker green velvet mini skirt, not too short so as not to expose her black stockings and garters - I abhor pantyhose. She is slipping the blouse from her shoulders and it's resting there while she unfastens the cuffs. She's teasing me, and she knows she will pay for that. She casts the blouse aside in an untidy heap, we'll worry about tidiness later. I make a sign with a twirled finger and she turns her back and slowly bends from the waist. Underneath she wears a white thong and garter belt, which I already knew because I direct what she wears, or doesn't wear, each day. She is my slave, I own her. She unfastens the skirt and steps out of it as it falls to the floor. Her tan contrasts with the white underwear. I tell her to stand still as I unfasten my leather belt and pull it from the loops, then double it to send it swishing across her buttocks. She flinches and I berate her for doing so, telling her to touch her toes and that each time she flinches she will add one stroke to the six I intend for her. By the time she has finished counting she has reached ten and had a red to contrast with the thin band of the thong between her cheeks. I am impatient now, I tell her to undress completely and quickly, and she obeys, not daring to do her usual tease of show and reveal. And here she stands, naked, but with a nervous smile. Helena is an impish devil. Not quite in the same league as some, but working on it, often leaving a trail of destruction and discarded clothing in her wake. But now she stands before me in quiet acquiescence - we have nothing to prove to each other except to reinforce our love and affection. But that impish smile is there, hidden just beneath the surface if we need it. Back to deprivation. Modesty is next, my Helena. Turn round, bend over, show me your most intimate self. Thank you, now face me again. Consider now the five basic human senses - touch, sight, sound, taste and smell. What better place to start than these basic senses? I shall start with touch. I could, of course, deprive her of touch using gloves or boxes or padding, but that is not my wish (nor hers, I suspect). After all, I may want her to touch me, or herself, later. I shall therefore supplant the word "touch" with "movement", which is necessary for touch. "Come here Helena, turn your back to me, and put your hands behind you.".... There, all done. I love to see a girl's hands tied and here they are right before me. (I also know Helena likes to be tied this way.) Her fingers are relaxed in that sort of half-open position hands relax to. They are crossed and now have a dark blue silk band twice round the X her wrists make and once through to form a "+" shape, and then double-knotted. She is right to be relaxed, since she knows by now that when I tie her there will be no escape. But you like to feel that don't you my love? You like to pull and strain against them, not because you believe you will escape but because you like to remind yourself of the fact you cannot. Her wrists are resting against her buttocks and she is comfortable. Unable to get free - but comfortable. Deprived of freedom. Next, her elbows.... Now they are tied together, just above her elbows, again not tight enough to cause pain but enough to thrust her chest forward and amplify her helplessness. "Turn around Helena, so I can see you." Ah those lovely pointy nipples. Very tasty. Excuse me..... They look lovely glistening with saliva and she shivers as I blow on them. Her feet are next. Careful you don't fall over, Helena, my love.... And finally your sexy knees... There Helena, you now have no movement , no freedom, no ability to touch. feel good? Yes, of course it does. Now, what's next? Sight I think. It is a lovely day, with the sun streaming through the window and everything outside so green. And I am going to deprive her of all that. The blindfold is large enough to cut out all light and thick enough not to be seen through, yet only covers as much of her face as is necessary for its purpose. All sight deprived. Taste - well I cannot deprive her of the sense of taste, but I can deprive her of the ability to taste, or at least taste anything apart from the plastic ball of her gag. Helena likes gags. We bought some new ones recently - how easy they are to obtain now we have the Internet to shop with. New ones do have rather a nasty taste though don't they my love? We'll have to do something about that won't we Helena? I push the rubber ball between her legs as best I can with them bound together, but it comes away nicely wet to give her a taste of herself and at the same time deprive her of all other tastes. There we have it - her mouth forced wide open by the ball, and the straps round under her hair. A curious experience, wearing a ball-gag. I urge all dominants to try it at least once. Before you ask, yes I have. It is not enough to simply open your mouth wide and imagine it. There is the more restful side of not having to use your muscles to keep your mouth open, and also the helpless side of being unable to eject it. Someone should make a range just slightly smaller, too. And this submissive here likes her ball-gags don't you Helena? She responds with a nod and a few short grunts which I will take to mean "yes Master". Asking her questions supplies her with what most submissives revel in, frequent reminders of just how helpless she is right now. My question obliges her to answer, yet she can do no more than grunt until I permit her to speak once again. I do not imagine the taste of her will last long on the ball, but I am sure I will find a way to remind her later. For the sake of this exercise I clip her nose to deprive the sense of smell. Just for a moment she panics, but it is unnecessary. The dangerous combination of nose clip and ball gag means she has to breathe round her gag. she can do this provided she does it slowly. And that's enough. Off with the gag. I am not really into breathing control, so this was just for the experience in her, a demonstration of complete trust. I think she knows I would never harm her. I have removed the gag now. So, what to do with a girl who can only breathe through her mouth? Simple. I love to do this. I also know she will be expecting it, and she is starting to flush around her neck and chest. I shall cut off her breathing with my open-mouthed kiss. To breathe she must do so through me. Mmmmm. I love to do that. The first time is not easy, and again requires complete trust. Think about the sequence - I breath in through my nose while she holds her breath. I exhale as she inhales my breath. Slowly is the only way. Next she slowly breathes out into my lungs. Finally she holds her breath while I exhale through my nose ready to bing in fresh air. Not recommended if there's flu about! I often bring her to orgasm while doing this, and am able to share with her the quickening of her breathing and the loss of control, and believe me it intensifies the experience a lot! Helena seems disappointed I am not doing that now, judging by her pelvic movements (such as her constriction allows) in expectancy of my manual caress. But don't you understand Helena, my love? This session is about deprivation, and denying you my own touch is just another deprivation. Touch deprivation. Clever, huh? "Happy, Helena?" "Yes Master, thank you." Of course the obvious question is whether I am depriving her at all. By these deprivations I am actually providing her with what she craves - being helpless and owned. One of the conundrums of BDSM. What else can I deprive her of? Well, just about anything I guess. Food, drink? No, not for us. I leave that sort of deprivation to those who like it. Time itself maybe? We have no clocks in the room, quite deliberately so that even when she is able to see she still has no idea of the time of day or just how long she will endure (enjoy?) whatever I have planned for her. And I amplify my control of her time by varying the length of her "ordeals" and never giving any clue as to how long it will last. More deprivation needed. she will be able to hear the zipper and the rustle of fabric as I undress. She likes to watch me undress, or so she says, and I am going to deny her that sight. "Kneel, Helena." I have to help her. She is kneeling obediently between my thighs. More deprivation. I am rubbing my foot and leg over her body, my foot is pressing to her pussy, as best as I can with her legs held so tightly shut. My knee and calf are caressing her belly and breasts. She is kissing my leg. Off with the nose clip my love. My left hand is on her head, holding her hair so that her mouth is an inch or so from my cock. She must be able to feel my heat, smell my scent. She wants me and I want her. We want each other, but at the moment I am depriving her, depriving us both. Time to tease. "Taste me Helena." her tongue is out, trying to reach me, which is what we both want, but I have a tight hold on her hair, keeping her from obeying. This is getting urgent. She is following my orders, trying to reach me, yet I hold her away. she could be forgiven for not knowing whether to obey my spoken order to taste me or the physical one preventing her, but she knows the game and she knows this is a fight neither of us will lose. We both win. The only question is how long I'll be able to hold out before the denial theme becomes unimportant. Hell, the answer is now! (Lots later.) "Thank you Helena." "Thank you, Master." Her kiss tastes of me, which is both obvious and OK. And Helena's face is very wet now. Her denial continues. I have not given permission for her to clean herself. Shall I help her? No, I think not. I like to see evidence of me on her skin. But now I think Helena has earned her climax too... eventually! Deprivation Her breath was heavy; chest rising high with fear. Utter darkness was all she could see; yet no cloth was over her eyes. The air was hot; sweat beaded on her naked body. Mustiness of a closed room; no fresh air had entered in a long while. She fired the muscles in her legs; they responded but were impeded by restraints. Her spirit rose with her arms; hope flew away after their inch of freedom limit. Her mind filled with fear; how had she come to be here? Last night... at the bar... drinking alone when she had started feeling strange... the world started shifting... she had gotten up to try and go home... hands grabbed her arms to hold her up as she faltered... a bright light... and then darkness... Straining to shake more out of the obscurity; her consciousness was greeted with naught. She tried to make out anything of the room she was in. Her eyes searched all around, but were met with complete night. Nothing was impeding her ability to see; it was if she were blind... Her focus turned to the state of her body; she was naked on a hard table. Her arms were stretched out from her body, 90 degrees to her torso. She tested their restraints again; her mind knowing nothing would have changed. The wrist shackles again only allowed about an inch of travel from the surface before dashing her hopes; the unmistakable sound of chains revealing they were the cause of the restraint. Terrifying thoughts entered her mind as she came to realise her sex was exposed; her legs spread apart wide, and fastened down at the ankles. The table she was on ended just below the small of her back, her buttocks and thighs met the hot air untouched; until just below her knees the table started again to hold her there. She could feel the edge of the table running down the side of her arms; it ran close to her torso. Her mind filled with an image of what the table must look like; a starfish shape that was specially designed for easy access to its occupant's body... Giving up on the freedom of her arms, she tried her legs again; if only she could get her knees up... No movement rewarded her efforts at all; she collapsed into the table... defeated... for now... She strained to make out any sound; silence drifted loudly into her ears and mind. A few minutes of this started her mind descending into panic; it was interrupted... A single fingernail... It pushed firmly into the tip of her left big toe; her body jolted with surprise. Someone had been standing... waiting... in that perfect silence... watching her. Her captor... There was just enough pressure applied to bring the nail to the forefront of her mind; through even the fear now clouding her being. The fingernail started a slow, unbroken journey; the whole time her body constantly writhed in its bonds to escape its touch: It rounded down the back of her toe, Slid down the sole of her foot, Gently around her ankle, Over its restraints, Along the front of her calf, Rolling underneath her knee, Tracking across the back of her thigh, Moving to the outside of her hip, Trailing the curve of her side, Climbing the fullness of her breast, Skimming across her nipple, Pressing harder into her neck, Tracing the line of her chin, Dancing gently over her lips, Passing down her chin again, Across the opposite side of her neck, Straight down her torso, Dipping into her belly button, Entering her pubic patch... The fingernail pulled away from her body; replaced again with perfect silence. Her pelvis involuntarily arched upward to try and regain the fingernail's touch; why did she do that? ----- The fingernail had left her body only a moment ago; it felt as if it were an eternity as her mind questioned everything around her. Whoever had touched her must be standing beside her; watching her again. How could they be so silent? Who was doing this to her? Footsteps suddenly filled her ears; they were close to her but heading away. This raised even more questions in her mind. Where was this person going? What would they do if they returned? She strained her ears to try and make out what the person was doing. The footsteps stopped; she guessed that they had reached the side of the room; it sounded a couple of metres away. Two sounds came to her ears. Something had been picked up off a table... a metallic sound... with two distinct parts to it. It was quickly replaced by the sound of a shoe twisting on the concrete sounding floor, then steps coming back towards her. Her stomach filled with fear again, as she tried her restraints without success; her body pleaded with them to let her go. She finally remembered her voice; she could scream! Her diaphragm dropped low to bring her as much oxygen as she could take; she forced it all out in one sharp breath. "Heeeeeeeelp!!!" Suddenly all she could see were stars; dancing in front of her eyes. Her brain faltered, and then started to register what had happened; she had just been slapped across her face... hard. Her cheek was on fire, tears swelled up in her eyes. Her face jerked back in shock as a single finger was placed along her lips, the symbol for silence. 'Shhh' her captor was cautioning her. Still in shock from the slap, her mind held back further resistance; at least until she could come to her senses. The finger; apparently satisfied that she would stay silent, removed itself from contact with her lips and traced down to the middle of her chest. It stayed in a single point for a long time; before it started 'drawing' across her skin. She focused her mind on working out what was being drawn... The letter; R The finger left contact with her skin as it reached the bottom of the letter; replaced again with that perfect silence. Her skin tingled; her mind raced for what the letter 'R' meant... it was familiar somehow... she couldn't put her finger on it... a warm thought unfurled in her mind... somehow the letter brought her some comfort... Whatever her captor had picked up, was now being readied. She could hear the slight 'clink' of metal, and the 'click, click' of a dial being turned twice. Her body trembled. Suddenly a hot sensation on her right nipple; almost unbearable, yet pleasure started to tingle through the heat. The device was pushed down further into breast. Her torso tried to curl into the table to get away from the device, but it was being pushed down too firmly. She had no idea what kind of device it was; it felt like a hot, raspy tongue swirling around her nipple, yet alien to anything she could imagine. A thousand tiny, wandering lines of electricity danced into her nipple; not in a painful way, in a pleasurable one. They started penetrating through her breast, deep into her chest. After ten seconds the electric sensation died down to naught; the device had cooled to body temperature on her nipple. It was almost seemed part of her now... she couldn't feel anything differing between her two nipples; it was almost as if the device wasn't there at all... More seconds of silence; until another 'clink' of metal followed by the two 'clicks' of a dial again. Her body tensed with anticipation; knowing what was about to come. Heat bore down onto her left nipple as the same sensation started to be repeated. Her body again struggled to get away from the forced application of the device, but there was nothing that could be done to escape. Her mouth opened to scream, but her still stinging cheek made her think better of it. The electric lines calmed down to a stop just as they had on the first device. Her breath eventually returned to normal after a minute of absolute silence. She tried to analyse her body. She couldn't feel any sensations coming from her nipples. It was almost as if she had dreamed what had just happened to her. Her consciousness became surprised and horrified to register the tell-tale feeling between her legs, as she knew that whatever had just happened had caused her great excitement... ----- Footsteps away again; they sounded like they were heading back to the same location as before. Her legs involuntarily tried to close; trying to hide the fact that she had become so excited by the nipple devices. They failed at their attempt; she could still feel her wetness meeting the air. The footsteps stopped at the end of the room, replaced with another metallic 'clink'; only one this time. Something had been lifted off a table. Calm footsteps back towards her again. Her legs tried to clamp together again in anticipation of where the person was heading. The footsteps continued closer, but approached the top of her body. A gloved hand seized her face; she let out a gasp of fright. The hand felt like ice cold leather; its surface seemed to become one with her skin. Fingers dug into her jaw, painfully forcing her mouth open. She attempted to flick her head left or right to release its grip on her; the hand held unmoving at her attempts, strong as steel. She started to scream; it was cut short by a thick rod being forced past her lips. It stretched her mouth as wide open as she thought it could possibly go; the rod pushed deeper and deeper into her mouth. As it started contact with her tongue she could start to feel its texture unfolding; feeling like it was made from a thousand tiny ball bearings made of jelly, but was somehow still hard as metal when she tried to focus her mind on any one point. The whole surface seemed to pulse randomly; tingles of electricity passing into the walls of her mouth and tongue. Her tongue burst every single taste she had ever experienced into her brain at once; the device was causing a kaleidoscope of taste sensations in her mouth. It continued to move to the back of her mouth and started down her throat. As it met her tonsils she instinctually started to gag; the next instant the feeling completely subsumed by another electric jolt passing up into her brain. What was this crazy device? It started morphing down her throat; the whole time completely filling her mouth to the breaking point, her cheeks now tingling with pain as they stretched. As its journey continued, she could feel herself starting to gag for air. Her throat started convulsing; trying to eject the mysterious machine, but this too was neutralized by the electrical stimuli. Her throat stretched to its fullest, she gasped for air, expecting to find none. She was surprised and relieved in the same thought; she could breathe perfectly fine. She laid there, body arched off the table in tension, face held upright tightly, mouth and throat aching with force. She could feel the device continuing to feed into her. It was delving to the deepest part where her throat could feel, and beyond it. The device started to pulse; sending waves of strain down from her mouth, into her throat. Her taste quickly returned to neutral again, her cheeks started to relax down, her throat shrank down to a comfortable level. It was shrinking; without being removed from her. More lines of electricity feed out of it into her; penetrating into different parts of her brain. As it shrank she could feel herself getting excited; her nipples started tingling with pleasure, her hips bucking against the sensations. Her conscious mind screamed for her body to resist; it wasn't listening. Her brain spilled pleasure through her; everything she was now railing towards orgasm. Her body tensed; the device in her throat withdrew just to her lips in one swift movement. It surged a warm liquid into her mouth; there was no possibility of her spitting it out. It completely filled her mouth; it tasted bitter and sweet at the same time. She was forced to swallow it all as her mind screamed for air. As it started down her throat, her orgasm came. She moaned loudly through the liquid as it passed down into her stomach. Her whole body convulsed spasmodically with pleasure. The last of it passed into her stomach; her orgasm over. She collapsed onto the table on the verge of consciousness; the hand released her face. She passed out.