Night of the Senses

by Victoria Blisse

  “Please close your eyes, Miss Sullivan,” Holly instructed, “and touch each square of material on this tray. Then tell us which one feels the best to you.”

  Bree did as instructed and lightly ran her hand over each square of fabric, caressing briefly with her fingertips, the textures imprinting themselves on her skin. Concentrating hard she felt first the whisper of silk, evoking in her mind summer afternoons, a drape of silk on her body as she lay in a summer house, the nipples of her breasts visible through the thin fabric, one panel of it draped between her legs, dampened by the juices of her cunt.

  The next was the slide of satin, bringing at once images of the vamp, dressed in red satin, barely covered as she tempted a man with her body. The nap of velvet called up images of a long gown draping her body and a ribbon in her hair, held in place with a sparkling jewel, her breasts barely covered by the cut of the fabric where it dipped in front.

  And finally the smooth texture of cotton, and suddenly she thought of an expensive sundress she’d worn on a date with no underwear, sitting in a dark restaurant in a secluded corner while her date teased at her cunt and made her come while he sipped at the chilled wine.

  Amazing, she thought, how just by touching a piece of material your mind could become a television screen. Touch was truly an amazing sense, especially when your eyesight was taken away.

  “The silk, please.” And a man to drape it over my body.

  “Very good,” Jennifer commented. “Now keep your eyes closed while Holly ties the blindfold over them.”

  In seconds, she was immersed in darkness, the blindfold so wide and secure not even the flickering light from wall sconces peeped through at the bottom edge. She had the feeling of being locked into a formless, shapeless, soft cocoon. The fabric was just as soft on her eyelids as it had been on her fingertips. A gentle hand gripped one of hers firmly while others held her ankles, each in turn, and removed her shoes.

  “We don’t want you to trip and fall in the darkness,” Jennifer told her. “Hold on to Holly’s hand. I’m just going to lift your dress and make sure you followed all of your instructions.

  Air kissed her warmed flesh like butterfly wings when the material of her skirt was lifted and slim fingers touched her tummy, her thighs, slid down the length of her legs. Feminine hands cupped her breasts briefly, then fingers inserted themselves very gently into her cunt, sliding in and out once. She nearly lost her balance when Holly urged her with her hands to bend from the waist, and almost dropped to the floor when slim hands separated the globes of her buttocks and one lubricated finger slipped through the tight ring of her anus, then popped out. The fingers were so cool and gentle, except for the probing Bree almost couldn’t feel them. But without her sight, every touch became magnified.

  “Very good,” Jennifer said, as if she’s just finished reading an identification card. “Holly will lead you to the first room. Just hold onto her, and you will be safe.”

  Safe? I think I left safety at the door.

  She counted sixteen steps before they stopped again, steps along the polished wood floor that was as smooth as glass beneath her bare feet. She had a sudden hysterical urge to take a running start and see how far she could slide on it. Then she heard the turn of a door knob, the soft whoosh of air as a door opened and Holly led her through it into a room. Now the surface beneath her feet was carpeting, thick and plush, deep enough that she could squish her toes in it.

  “Solange will be here shortly to attend to you,” Holly told her, seating her in a chair.

  Bree swallowed and nodded her head. She was alone in the silent room, even the movement of the air magnified in the blackness that engulfed her. The chair she sat on was soft and upholstered in some furry fabric. Again the lack of sight made the impression of the material so much more intense. She could almost feel every tiny hair individually, kissing her skin with its silken finish.

  Impulsively, she hiked up her dress and let the pelt of it caress the bare skin of her ass. She moved around and discovered if she spread her thighs just enough she could also feel the fur tickle her labia, sending tiny jolts of sensation through her. Leaning slightly forward, she could feel the fabric on her clit, and she hitched herself back and forth, streaks of heat spreading to her womb and her breasts.

  “You like our little chair, isn’t that so?” an amused female voice asked.

  Shocked at being unexpectedly caught in her pleasure, Bree jerked her thighs together and sat up straight.

  “No, no, no,” Solange said in a light tone. “One must take advantage of every tactile sensation available. Tonight you will experience many of them. Come.” She put her hand beneath Bree’s arm. “Let me help you off with your dress and onto the table.”

  Table?

  “It’s not far. Come along.”

  Her dress was lifted over her head and immediately she felt the currents of the cooled air in the room brushing over her, just like in the reception hall. Her nipples tightened, and she would have covered them, but Solange moved her hands away and made a clucking sound.

  “No, no covering up. Tonight you must be on display as you learn the effect of every sensation. We want you to perform well for the audience.”

  “Audience?” Bree squeaked.

  “But of course. That is part of the agenda at the House of Five Senses. The restaurant is at the hub of the house, surrounded by glass-enclosed rooms with sound equipment. That way people can hear, as well as, see and participate in your evening vicariously. And of course, there are the silver chips.”

  “Chips?”

  “Three of our members are permitted to bid on chips. Each chip gives them the opportunity to participate in one phase of your enjoyment, and they choose that at the time their bid is accepted.”

  “Oh.”

  Bree swallowed. She remembered now that Cilla had told her about this part of the activities but somehow she’d wiped it from her mind. Oh, well. At least she couldn’t see them watching her. And she’d paid for the whole package, after all.

  “It is not unpleasant,” Solange assured her. “All of our members are carefully screened. And tonight is Ladies Night, so the touching will be feminine and seductive. You will enjoy it, I promise.”

  Solange guided her to some steps, then onto a table padded with soft cushions covered in a very soft cotton sheet. When she lay down on her back, they moulded easily to the shape of her body, giving her the sensation of floating.

  The woman’s fingers were soothing as she arranged Bree’s arms at her sides, making sure she was comfortable. Then she separated her legs, running her fingers the length of them. Bree began to understand the line from her invitation about ‘what touches you’. Her skin heated under the caresses, part of it a result of imagination and anticipation.

  “I’m going to test some lotions on your skin,” Solange explained. “I want you to tell me which one feels the best to you. That’s the one we will prepare you with.”

  “Prepare me?” Bree almost squeaked.

  “You will be treated to a number of tactile sensations tonight. The lotion we choose will maximise your skin’s reaction to them.” She brushed a hand lightly over Bree’s public hair, ruffling it. “Shall we begin?”

  Bree nodded, not sure she could answer.

  For the next fifteen minutes Solange rubbed different lotions and creams into her skin in various spots, each time stopping to ask how it felt. Some were cool, some were warm, some thick, some thin and some with the quality of a good shower gel. As Solange tested each solution, Bree felt the nerves near the surface snapping and sizzling. By the time they reached the final one there wasn’t a place on the surface of her body that didn’t tickle with sensation.

  Solange’s fingers were pure magic, working each muscle as she rubbed in the creams and lotions, like dancing elves that eased each separate one into total relaxation. The twin sensations made Bree’s cunt flutter, and she knew the liquid of her arousal was gathering on her inner and outer lips. She thought agai
n of the feel of the furry chair on her bare pussy and felt another tiny surge of fluid in her channel.

  “I think the last one is the best, no?” Solange asked.

  “Yes,” Bree told her in a distracted voice. She didn’t want to interrupt the feeling of lassitude stealing over her.

  In another moment, warm towels covered her in layers, tucked into place by Solange’s clever hands.

  “Just to cleanse the skin before we apply the full lotion,” she explained.

  The warmth seeped into Bree’s body, adding to the lethargy induced by Solange’s ministrations. It reminded her of being wrapped in a warmed quilt in front of the fire on a chilly night, shutting out the world and sheltering herself in the heat. She moaned in protest when the towels were removed one at a time, but then Solange began applying the lotion to her entire body and she forgot about everything else.

  She and Cilla had experimented with sex together in a giggling way filled with curiosity, touching each other and indulging in some play with toys. But what they had experienced was nothing to the sensations Solange pulled from her. As the woman’s fingers worked every crevice of her body, the lassitude turned into a needy arousal, a demand from her body that it be satisfied and quickly.

  Her breasts felt full, the skin stretched tightly. Fingers plucking at the ripe buds of her nipples generated streaks of heat everywhere in her body.

  “I would love to shave the hair from your gorgeous pussy,” Solange told her with a hint of regret, “but the Dragon reserves that right for himself.”

  “The Dragon?” Bree’s eyes popped open, but behind the blindfold she could see nothing. “You did say the Dragon, right?”

  “Yes, my dear. He is a big man who flicks his tail wickedly. Thus the nickname. He will teach you the erotic value of touch better than anyone else here.”

  Bree squirmed on the table. For one last moment, she had a wild impulse to leap off the table and run. Then she calmed herself, remaindering herself this was her choice and she’d promised herself to go through it all.

  Solange had nudged her thighs apart and was rubbing the cream into her inner and outer lips and around the entrance to her vagina. Her finger was slim and the skin soft, her touch like an angel’s kiss. Bree could have lain there forever and given herself over to that easy, feathery touch.

  “Ah, you are wet,” Solange commented, a hint of satisfaction in her tone as she slipped her finger into Bree’s vagina. “That is good. That shows you are responsive. You will enjoy tonight’s pleasure very much.”

  Bree’s inner muscles quivered in expectation, wondering if this woman was actually going to finger-fuck her and if it would be anything like what she and Cilla had done to each other. The shimmery sensations rippled through her body, nudging at the pulse deep within her womb.

  “This will be of special help to you,” Solange told her, then plucked her clitoris from its protective hood and covered it with the tingly lotion.

  Bree was having a difficult time holding herself still, her hips automatically wanting to thrust upwards, her pussy demanding something more. But Solange rolled her over and began on her back. Beneath her the fluffy pillows adjusted to her body, cradling her in their softness. The fine cotton was like a kiss against her skin.

  Bree pillowed her head on her arms as Solange worked the lotion into every pore and muscle from her neck to her ankles, lightly massaging the skin of her inner thighs and slipping two fingers between her legs to brush against her heated labia.

  She reached for one of Bree’s hands and squeezed something cool onto her fingers.

  “Rub this to learn its texture,” she said. “It is a gel to prepare your rectum for the things you will experience there.”

  It was viscous, like shower gel, cool yet at the same time hot, and slippery.

  “Reach beneath you and rub it onto your nipples,” Solange commanded. “See what it will do to them.”

  At once, Bree felt her nipples swell and harden into points like diamonds. The cool sensation was an illusion, because heat soon crept over those pebbled nubs. While she absorbed the feel of the gel and her body’s reaction to it, hands separated her buttocks, a metal tip pressed against her anus and the warm/cool gel was squeezed into her rectum. When Solange inserted two fingers and began massaging it into the inner tissues, Bree felt as if two icicles had dragged the lick of a flame with them and invaded her body.

  Her cunt pulsed and her breasts throbbed, pinpricks of sensation teasing at every nook and crevice. When Solange stopped, Bree wanted to scream at her to keep going, to fill her with more and more of the magical gel.

  But Solange merely tapped her lightly on her ass and urged her to turn over again. She took one of Bree’s hands and placed it on top of her public hair.

  “Touch yourself, mon amie. Feel the softness of the curls. Soon they will be gone and you will see how the bare skin heightens everything.” Separating Bree’s labia, she placed an unexpected kiss on her clit. “Enjoy yourself, my pet. You will have a wonderful evening.”

  Bree heard a switch click and soft music floated into the room as the door closed.

  Chapter Two

  Bree lay there on the table, feeling the wetness of her pussy, the caress of the fine cotton beneath her and the brush of air on her nakedness. The music was a bluesy instrumental that relaxed her mind, as she expected it was intended to do, while she waited for the next phase of her evening to begin. Her skin tingled from the lotion, and the dark tunnel of her rectum was warm and demanding. Whatever the lotion was Solange had chosen, it was doing its job, preparing her body for whatever came next.

  As the heat from the lotion continued to grow, Bree passed the time wondering what the Dragon looked like. Was he tall? Short? Muscular? Fat? Bald? She nearly laughed at the idea of a short, fat bald man doing wicked things to her. But then, she couldn’t be able to see him, so it was all about the touch. His fingers. His mouth. His tongue. His cock.

  And of course, whatever else he chose to use. She shivered with the expectation of the unknown.

  Why am I even worrying? She chided herself. From what she’d seen at the auction, and from Cilla’s descriptions, all the men at the House were well built, well hung, and gorgeously masculine. Too bad she wouldn’t be able to see her host for the evening, but maybe imagining him was more fun.

  The door clicked open then, after a moment, closed on a soft sound. Being unable to see, every one of her other senses was on high alert so she was aware of the man moving closer to her until he stood right next to the table. She knew it was a man, not a woman, by the scent of a woodsy aftershave mixed with pure male essence. Reaching out a hand she connected with a hard male body at the point where downy hair arrowed down over skin inflexible as stone.

  She opened her hand and flattened it against him, wanting to stroke him, but he manacled her hand with long, calloused fingers and lifted it away.

  “Later.” His voice was low and husky. “After you respond to the things that will touch you. Then you may explore me and tell me what I feel like to you. If you are very good, I will let you pull the Dragon’s tail.”

  “A-all right,” she whispered. His voice alone was enough to make her come.

  “Good. Very good. Now. Please lie completely still.“

  His hands skimmed over her, mapping the curves and crevices of her body with a touch that Bree barely felt, yet it was enough that it ramped up her arousal. He fingertips pulled at her nipples, then slid once through the dampness of her slit.

  “Very good,” he repeated. “You are aroused. Solange did her job well.” He pinched one nipple, hard enough that a streak of pain shot through Bree’s breast. Then he released it. “I am going to touch something to your nipple. I want you to tell me what it feels like.”

  Whatever it was, it was cold and at first Bree flinched.

  “Sorry. I meant to warm it first. There, this should be better.”

  And it was, probably warmed by his hands. Bree focused on it. A thin, narrow b
ar of something, Metal. Not very long. He brushed it against the skin of her breasts, turning it this way and that, and she felt something round abrade her skin. A screw?

  Nipple clamps!

  She’d never used them, but she had definitely seen pictures of them. Cilla often wore them, but Bree had never been tempted to try them. Goose bumps pricked the flesh of her breasts as she tried to imagine the effect of them.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked. “Could you tell by its shape and feel?”

  “A nipple clamp?”

  “But not a heavy one,” he told her. “If you’ve never used them before, we need to start you out with something small and light. I’m going to attach the first one now.

  Rough calluses on her nipple, another hard pinch and a tug, then the metal bars on either side of her aching bud. The metal reminded her of the soft gold of her bracelet, thin and flat and highly polished. A metal kiss. Fingers tugged her nipple more as they centred the bars.

  “I’m going to tighten the screws now. I want you to tell me what you feel with each turn,” he commanded.

  His fingers brushed her breast as he made one turn of the screws and mild pain flashed through her engorged tips.

  “A little pain,” she told him. “Not much, but…”she swallowed. “Pleasurable.”

  Another turn of the screw. “And now?”

  “More pressure, sharper pain. But still tolerable.”

  He increased the tension by increments, the pain increasing each time, until she reached the point where it felt like a branding iron was pressed onto her nipples. And then the most wonderful feeling of ecstasy rolled over her, flowing out from her nipple, and she knew more liquid was gathering in her cunt by the slippery feel of it.

  “All right?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She wet her lips. “All right.”

  “Good.” His voice held an edge of satisfaction. “I’m going to do the other one now.”