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I can hear Him moving around the room, steady deliberate movements as if I am not even there. The darkness of the blindfold leaves me only with my hearing to anticipate what he will do. The sliding of a drawer, wood against wood, tells me he is looking for a toy, but what of me, I am His toy. Lying on the bed, wrists and ankles cuffed and clipped to the four corners, exposed and vulnerable and trembling…with a fearful lust.
The slightest of touches on my back makes me shiver, the lightest of tickles from something I can’t identify. A grumbling of frustration escapes my lips. I hate not being able to see, it robs me of my ability to anticipate. Many times before I have pulled the blindfold from my eyes in sheer desperation to see, which is why I find myself bound like this now, my previous behavior having sealed my fate this time.
Dilo Keith’s novelette Make Mine to Go effortlessly mixes bondage and blindfolds:
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He kissed the back of my neck. “Keep your eyes closed.”
I found the soothing strictness odd, yet strangely arousing. Justin was obviously in control, but nothing he did suggested pain, bondage or even the roughness we both craved in many of the scenes. Even so, his manner was erotically commanding.
He wrapped a silk scarf over my eyes and around my head, knotting it by my ear. Long tails flowed over one shoulder and down my back. At his instruction to move my head, the delicate fabric danced across my skin.
Donna George Storey said, “This is my favorite scene from a much-reprinted story, called ‘The Blindfold,’ and this part’s from real life!”
Not long after that you asked me to kneel when you put on the blindfold. Then you went on to position my body with your hands, telling me to keep my back straight, my shoulders down, my chin up. You told me not to move, not even to smile. You proceeded to caress me, starting at my cheeks just below the edge of the blindfold. You traced my lips with one fingertip, drew ovals on my chin, brushed my neck and collarbone with feathery strokes. I managed to hold myself still until your hands moved to my breasts. That’s when you had to remind me of the rules and rearrange my body in the proper position. You even reprimanded me for breathing too quickly. “Slow, baby, nice and slow,” you whispered, smoothing the tension from my lips and jaw until I was quiet.
Whether you simply close your eyes—or ask your partner to do the same—or take the luscious leap into using actual accoutrements, consider playing with the concept of darkness. You may be surprised at the beauty of the multicolored erotic fireworks that burst behind shut lids when one of you can’t see.
TANTALIZING TIPS
•Start slowly. Simply keep your eyes closed—or request your partner do the same. Graduate to using a tie, scarf, or actual blindfold. Bask in the sensation of being deprived of one sense to heighten the rest.
•Play games. Everything’s different in the dark. Try your favorite positions without being able to see what’s coming next. (It may be you!)
•Incorporate blindfolds into vanilla sex as well as BDSM.
FICTION: BLINDFOLDS
BLIND LUST
KRISTINA LLOYD
The flyer had been pinned to our kitchen corkboard for weeks: Wine-tasting for beginners at Greenhalls.
Neither of us was a beginner at wine. Tasting it, however, was a different matter. So we bought a couple of tickets and would have gone if, a couple of days beforehand, Aidan hadn’t remembered he was meant to be meeting an old friend for birthday drinks.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he said.
Which is how I ended up kneeling before our oak coffee table wearing an eye mask he’d bought specifically for the occasion, having taken the concept of blind tasting literally. On the table were six empty glasses. When I was blindfolded, Aidan brought the bottles in. I knew we were tasting red but other than that, I was clueless.
I listened as Aidan poured wine into the first glass.
“Do I spit or swallow?” I asked.
“Do I even need to answer?” said Aidan. “Here, hold your hand out.”
I complied, fingers fumbling for the cool stem. Raising the glass to my nose, I swirled and sniffed.
“Concentrate,” said Aidan.
I took a large sip, sloshed the liquid around my mouth, gargled, sloshed again then swallowed.
“Do I look like a pro?” I asked.
“Completely,” said Aidan. “What’s it taste of?”
I thought for a while. “Wine.”
“Try harder.”
