Deprivation

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!