Deprivation

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Lexi woke to darkness and silence and she twisted and writhed, pulling at her arms and legs fruitlessly. She was completely restrained, her body spread wide and tight and she could tell by the feel of the cool air on her skin that she was completely naked. She turned her head and felt the buckles at the back of her head. She could feel the tug of the leather harness that held the blindfold in place as she moved her head and worked her mouth around the gag that silenced her. She suckled on that a bit, exploring with lips and teeth and tongue, feeling out the shape of what filled her mouth and kept her from talking or choking, the shape of it unmistakable.

She writhed in place, unable to move or speak, her surroundings hidden from her as she panted for breath. Her last clear memories were of crawling into bed last night, curling up alone to sleep while her boyfriend Kayden worked the night shift. He usually joined her when he got home and she would wake up just enough to cuddle into him and go back to sleep in the circle of his arms. But she didn't remember hearing him come in, didn't remember feeling him move her. Instead she had woken up like this, blind and deaf, mute and immobile, nude and helpless. A bit of panicked anxiety made her heart race and sweat break out on her skin as she tugged at the restraints and worked her mouth around the gag. How had she been moved from the bed to wherever she was now? Had it been her boyfriend that moved her? If so, he hadn't even asked her, just come in and did what he pleased and there was nothing she could say or do about it now. She suckled the penis-shaped plug like a baby with a pacifier as she writhed and twisted and pulled uselessly at her bonds, unable to more any of her limbs more than an inch or so. Her breath came faster and deeper and she felt the fear and panic growing, her heart racing even as her nipples hardened to peaks and her core clenched and her belly flip-flopped. Anyone could do anything to her right now and she wouldn't be able to fight or even raise a sound in protest. She was completely helpless and all but ignorant of her surroundings.

She could tell easily enough that she wasn't in her bed anymore, but aside from the fact that whatever she was laying on was flat and hard she had no idea if she was on a table or a bench or the floor. Was she alone or was someone watching her? Were several someones watching her, looking at her nude, helpless body. As she shifted her breasts moved and her skin heated, the sheen of sweat that broke out from every pore cooled her as she suckled at the gag and turned her head side to side, her breaths coming out as little moans and whimpers that she could feel in her throat but not hear. Her ears were plugged in addition to everything else and she became acutely aware of the pressure of the foam plugsthat deafened her. She couldn't hear anything at all aside from the echo of her heartbeat racing in her ears. She was helpless, trapped in the silent dark with only her sense of touch to interpret the world around her. It was a terrifying feeling, being isolated and deprived of her senses, left helpless and unable to speak or hear or see. Thinking about it was enough to send most people into a panic, the reality was much worse.

And that reality made her smile.

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Her sense of time was lost to her too as she lay there pulling at the restraints, feeling the sharp edges of the leather cuffs pulling at the skin of her wrists and ankles. She knew them well, she had picked them out herself. She curled her fingers around the posts at the center of the cuffs and had just a hint of the rope that ran through the center, smooth and soft, doubled over for strength and she could just move her feet to feel the rope that was threaded through the heavy steel D-rings under her feet on the other set of cuffs. She had paid good money for these cuffs and they worked even better than she thought. She couldn't have pulled free of them if she were ten times stronger than she was and her slim, five-nothing frame didn't stand a chance.

She still tried, however, and turned her head side to side in an attempt to shake free of the blindfold or gag, but with no luck. The head harness was part of the same set as the cuffs and buckled in place over her short brown hair with four buckles that connected gag, blindfold and the collar that she could now acutely feel around her throat. Her pulse throbbed against the leather and the more she turned her head the more she could feel the tight leather and the buckles at the back of her head. She could feel them clicking against something and as she couldn't feel cold against her back she guessed that she was on the wood floor of the spare room.

There was no furniture in that room, they had been using it for storage, but Kayden had been moving the boxes out recently and keeping the door locked and she had known better than to pry. He enjoyed little surprises and she enjoyed them nearly as much as he did, especially ones like this that involved her.

And he had thought this one out well. Her libs were restrained and her head was enclosed in the harness but the rest of her was completely bare and as time passed she became more and more aware of her nudity and her helplessness to do anything to cover herself or even know if she had to cover herself. And with that sense of helplessness and the growing sense of claustrophobia came doubt. Was she in the spare room? Or was she somewhere a bit more exposed? She could be laying in the middle of any room, and with any sort of audience watching her at all. She felt the plugs in her ears, deafening her as she fought a silent battle with her thoughts and anxiety, as she wondered how exposed she was... for him alone? For a stranger she knew or didn't know? Was there a whole group watching her? The thoughts made her heart race and her body writhe as she panted for breath, more and more aware of her body and how exposed she was with every passing second.

She had no way to tell time, no idea how much time passed as she lay there, her whole being reduced down to her sense of touch, her skin tingling and sensitive, her pussy both too hot and too cool, her nipples burning points as she whimpered and moaned for what felt like hours. How long was he going to keep her like this? How long was he going to torment her by doing nothing to her? She tried to whimper and moan and plead with him in the wordless fashion that the gag allowed, but she couldn't even hear herself and it only added to her frustration and sense of helplessness. Finally, somewhere near the edge of exhaustion and at the ragged edge of panic she lay still, breathing harshly through her mouth and nose and soothing herself by suckling at the two or three inches of plug that she had in her mouth.

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It was after her surrender that the first touch finally came, a light stroke of fingers along the center of her chest between her breasts. She gasped and started, her whole body jumping and pulling at the restraints, her breath coming faster again as she turned her head side to side and tried to see through the darkness, tried to hear anything at all, but there was only darkness and silence and she more felt than heard herself whimper. She could feel the vibration in her throat and her sinuses but not even muffled sound reached her ears. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she arched her back, trying to push up into that caress, to feel something other than the helpless solitude that had been forced onto her.

But as quickly as the touch came, it was gone again and she felt that soundless, helpless whimper escape her again as she suckled at the gag and tossed her head, feeling the buckles click against the floor and the leather pull at her face even as her arms and legs pulled at the ropes. She was frantic for the touch but it was gone and barely even a memory was left as she collapsed back on the floor and moaned and whimpered around the gag as fought to catch her breath. She was sure that she was sobbing, the pressure and heat in her face were sure signs of it. But she had been immobilized and deprived of her other senses for long enough that she couldn't be sure of anything at that moment but the feel of her racing heart pulsing against the collar and thundering in her ears like leaden slabs toppling over in the darkness behind her eyes. She gulped and blinked her eyes, felt her eyelashes brush against the leather of the blindfold, knew that her eyes were open even though she couldn't see anything. She could feel moisture between her skin and the leather but she wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears as she strained against the ropes and sought the touch of another person with her entire being.

Anxiety was her only companion in that darkness, she didn't even have cold or heat to think on, despite the fact that she could feel the sweat on her skin. It took her a long time to still herself again, to stop pulling at her restraints, to stop turning her head side to side and when she finally lay still an interminable time passed again before she felt the next touch. She had expected a touch to her leg or arm, across her belly or the bottom of her foot and unconsciously she strained out with every nerve of her body toward those expectations only for the caress to come across her bottom lip. It was the stroke of a single fingertip, she knew and she whimpered and started, quickly lifting her lead toward that touch only for it to leave her just as quickly as it had come.

She felt herself try to speak around the gag in her mouth, knew that she was trying to beg, but she couldn't hear the garbled 'Please' that escaped her. The short protrusion of the gag restrained her tongue and the tightness of the head harness limited the movement of her jaw so that even as she tried to open her mouth further and touch her lip with her tongue she couldn't. It was frustrating and sobs escaped her, sobs she couldn't even feel as her tears stung her eyes.

She fought for stillness, knowing that it would be a long wait for the next touch and the sooner that she lay still the sooner he would have pity on her and relent. But the next touch came as she still fought against her own restlessly writhing body. The long caress of a finger came along the inside of her thigh, tracing one bunched tendon that was as taught as a guitar string. She started again and tried to strain toward him but he was gone again and she whimpered. He was casually and creatively cruel with his touches, and she had no idea how much time passed as she waited for each one. Some came when she was finally still, exhaustion or the iron grasp of her will stilling her body in preparation. Others came when she was moving, touching some tense, tight muscle or corded tendon. He seemed to know where she expected the next one to come from and he never touched there, the unpredictability serving only to drive her nearly insane with expectance.

But there was no pattern to them, no anticipating when or where he would touch next and she was sobbing freely as she writhed in torment, her entire body aching with the strain, her muscles quivering as she gasped for breath. None of the touches were sexual, he didn't touch her pussy or breasts, but she was still more aroused than she had ever been in her life. Her nipples ached for attention so badly that they hurt, points of burning sensation that she was acutely aware of with every movement. Her sex pulsed in time with her heart and she could feel her leaking nectar as her hips shifted and the distinct feeling of her arousal was an unrequited ache in her core.

Soon she was unable to move even when he touched her, laying still in near exhaustion and feeling each touch acutely on her sensitized skin. She drew deep breaths and saw flashes of light behind her eyes, the phosphenes flashing like a tunnel as she tried to catch up to herself. There was no room in her head for thoughts and she lay still as his hands caressed her body, almost massaging her limbs, soothing away the aches and tension from her struggles and she felt increasingly soothed and relaxed as she sucked at the gag and smiled, her eyes drifting closed in the darkness.

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She wasn't even aware she had slept until she woke. The darkness was still complete, the helplessness was still total. She was yet restrained and blinded and deafened, but she felt better, as if some release had come in the dark and silence. She tried to lick her lips but the head harness prevented that and she whimpered until she felt the touch, a caress on her cheek, the gentle slide of a hand and then the gag was loosened and she worked her jaw as it came away.

She tried to speak but couldn't hear her words. She tried to speak his name, to ask if it was him, but aside from the vibration in her throat and the sensation of her jaw working she heard nothing. She felt the caress of a thumb across her lower lip and she smiled and kissed the pad, taking comfort from that simple sensation. When she felt the touch of the straw she caught it in her lips and drank as slowly as she could make herself. It was water, plain and cool but not cold and she sipped at it greedily, feeling it clear her throat and refresh her.

It was taken away far too soon and she whimpered and strained after it fruitlessly, feeling the whimpering escape her. She opened her mouth to beg, the words escaping her without need for thought, without having to hear them at all to know that she was begging him and she felt her face and chest flush with shame. He took the opportunity to slip the gag back into place and she whimpered as his hands buckled it once again. She lay back, the sensation of her whimpering and moaning keeping her company as she once again suckled at the gag and her mind spun. What would he do next? More of the ruthless casual touches? Would he touch her pussy now? Leave her still and silent? Use some toy or instrument on her?

Her anticipation and consequently her anxiety built minute over minute until she was tugging at her bonds again, her body writhing and her breath again coming fast and deep at just her thoughts. She had never felt so trapped and helpless before and she hoped that he would do something soon.

When the touch came to her pussy she whimpered and lifted her hips toward the touch, grateful for the caress of fingers across the curls of her pubic hair and the swell of her mons. She felt something slide under her and when his hand left her she settled back down and felt the coarse yet soft feel of something under her ass. She was sure it was a towel and her brow furrowed as she tried to sort out what it was even as his hand came back to her pussy. But there was a cool sensation that spread thickly across her mons and matted her hair down as his hand rubbed. She turned her head side to side, tugging with her arms as she tried to work out what it was that he was massaging into her pussy.

Then she felt the tingling burn begin in her skin and she whimpered as the sensation grew stronger and stronger. Had he rubbed some sort of warming gel into her hair or was it something else? She moaned and writhed as the sensation grew stronger as she tried to work it out but her mind couldn't grasp what it was through feel alone and she suckled harder at the gag as the sensation got worse and worse until she was sobbing at the feeling that spread from her mons and radiated deep into her core. It was a torment, that feeling, and she couldn't escape it. She was trembling and flushed, sobbing, her mind reeling and fighting.

When his hands touched her again she was grateful. She hoped that it was over now, that he would clean away whatever he had put on her body, but she felt a different sensation and started at the scrape of some hard thing across her lower belly and mons. It tugged at her pubic hair and then left, only to return and tug again at a different place. Several long minutes passed before she realized what it was; he was shaving her. The cool sensation she had felt had been shaving cream, his menthol shaving cream, and she suckled the gag in agitation. He had been after her to shave her pussy for a long time and she had always had some excuse as to why she wouldn't. She kept the hair trimmed short and neat, but shaving it all off was just too much of a hassle and she hadn't really wanted to. But now the decision was out of her hands and she lay helpless as he slowly denuded her pussy with careful strokes of the razor, his hand caressing and checking for missed spots whenever he rinsed the razor off.

Soon enough the last of the hair was gone and she felt the caress of a towel across her skin before his fingers caressed her now smooth labia and mons and she moaned at the sensation, her hips lifting slightly and her muscles quivering at the strain. She was rewarded with the caress of his lips on her bare flesh, an intimate kiss to her smooth pussy and the long, slow swipe of his tongue across her slit for just a moment, his tongue warm against the cool feel of the air on her skin. She moaned in delight, knowing how good he was with his mouth, but the feeling stopped and she whimpered in protest. After what he had already done to her; the immobility, the sensory deprivation, the cruelly casual touches, this was perhaps the cruelest thing of all, to stroke her arousal and expectation that way and then leave her unfulfilled. She was so aroused that it hurt, her core clenching and twisting, her body aching for him and the attention that he had given her pussy to shave her had only driven that higher and the kiss, the feel of his lips on her most private place had nearly been enough to send her over the edge.

Nearly, but not quite.

And now he was gone, and when she settled her backside to the floor again the feeling of the towel under her ass was gone. She was now acutely aware of her pussy and the feel of the air against her skin as she lay there in the dark. Where he had shaved her seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat and she could feel the tight, coiled ache of arousal in her core. She tried to press her thighs together but the restraints were too tight for her to move that much and it only added to her frustration. The worst thing was the memory of the kiss he had placed on her sex when he had finished. It had felt so good and she knew that she would be shaving herself in the future. He had successfully convinced her without saying a single word to do what he had been asking for for months. His mouth on her had always felt good, he enjoyed cunnilingus and he was always eager to go down on her. But now, with her pubic hair gone, the sensation was different, far more intimate and she had felt his lips and tongue so acutely that she knew that she would be keeping herself bare and bald for him.

She relaxed then, lying still in the restraints and waiting in eager anticipation for what he would do to her next. She knew that she was helpless, knew that she was at his mercy, but she trusted him completely, it was the only reason that she felt comfortable at his taking away her ability to use her safeword. She knew that he would push her boundaries, he always had. But she also knew that he was good enough not to take things too far and that trust of him allowed her to relax and wait as patiently as possible for whatever came next. But it was still hard... it was harder than anything else that she had ever done in her life.

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Then came the sudden hot splash and she tensed her body in the restraints, her back arching and the tonicity of her muscles clear as she strained at the sudden sensation. A moment later came another hot pattering onto her belly and across her bare mons and labia and she gave a muffled cry into the gag that she could hear dimly even with her ears blocked and plugged. She knew instantly what the feeling was; hot wax. He had dripped hot wax on her before and she was intimately familiar with the feeling. She writhed and twisted, unable to soothe the mild burn that flared on her skin and she felt her whimpers as she bit on the gag, her teeth vibrating as her head turned side to side, her body twisting and writhing as he dumped another splash of wax across her mons and pussy, making her cry out once again.