Silence of Need

Rachel could feel the room as she stepped into it. The lighting sucked for a good conversation, but the energy of it was titillating. She looked at her friend Latisha, wondering if this whole idea was a big mistake. She didn't really care for crowds like this. Latisha motioned with her head and took Rachel’s hand to lead her in.

Rachel could have stopped and looked for hours. People were everywhere. She saw a table where a man and a woman sat, each with a person kneeling at their feet. There was enough leather here to bind a thousand books. Black seemed the color of the evening and she realized that she stood out like a sore thumb in her pale blue dress. It was the sexiest thing owned and even then it was pretty demure. No, she didn't belong here. Latisha just kept pulling her along and Rachel couldn't get her attention. There were too many distractions.

She finally stopped at a table near some halfway decent lighting. It was near a wall and that made it better for her to see the room. Rachel sat, bouncing lightly in the chair to the heavy rhythm of the band, watching women and men gyrate across the floor. Latisha motioned she was going to the bar. Rachel nodded. Latisha knew what she liked.

A movement caught her eye and she looked up to a man in all black. How very original.

"Here...alone?" It was hard to catch all his words.

Rachel shook her head no. He said something that she didn't catch and walked off to find another victim.

Latisha came back with two drinks and plopped them down on the table. She had seen the man and mouthed, "Jerk?"

Rachel shrugged and sipped the coke, too nervous to chatter about a random stranger.

Latisha laughed, "Maybe you need some rum in that coke."

"No," Rachel smiled back. It wasn't that she had anything against alcohol; she just didn't care to drink. Maybe she was scared of giving up control, she wondered. That would be ironic. Latisha patted Rachel’s hand excitedly and pointed.

A man was making his way around the crowd of dancers, heading for the two women. He was average height, dark hair graying around the temples, better dressed than most of the crowd. Rachel was secretly grateful to see gray slacks and wine-colored dress shirt; not a spot of leather or black to be seen.

"Latisha? Rachel?" he asked.

They both nodded and he sat down. Latisha scooted her chair closer to him so Rachel could see both of them at the same time. He must have done his homework for he looked and spoke to Rachel and not to Latisha.

"I am very happy to get to meet you at last Rachel. You are much more lovely than your picture," he handed her a single deep red rose.

She could see his face and lips and also Latisha's hands moving. She liked Latisha as an interpreter, her face was animated and her signs were crisp and easy to read.

"Thank you, Sir" Rachel voiced back, wondering if he, like many other hearing, would find her voice odd. It was better than most deaf since she had been hearing until she was seven. Still, there would be that slightly flat tone that some people found annoying.

"Are you still comfortable with our plans for the evening?"

Rachel ignored the stares from the next table and concentrated on him. She guessed that deaf people didn't come to the club often. He seemed fairly easy to lip-read, but it was never perfect.

"Yes, Sir, if you are."

She saw his body laugh and the smile on his face crinkled his eyes in a very pleasant way, "I have never worked with a person who is deaf, so it will be new to me."

She shyly smiled back, "I have never done this sort of thing either, so it is new to me also."

He stood and held out his hand. This would be the hard part, leaving the safety of Latisha, her ears for the rest of the world, and give herself to Nicholas, a man who could not speak to her in her own language of sign. Did she trust him enough not to hurt her?

She knew that she wanted this. They had emailed for months before this night. She took his hand and rose for the chair, her eyes locked onto his. His touch was sure, confident, radiating strength. It made her tremble to think of what would come.

Latisha tapped Rachel on the shoulder to get her attention and signed, "Call me in the morning."

Rachel nodded to her and let Nicholas lead her out from the club. Stepping outside was like stepping into a new world. The visual silence of it after the club was wonderful.

It may seem strange to others to realize that even the deaf have silence. So much feeling, so many people, so many things to catch your attention and pull you from one thing to another in dizzying speed were noisy. The cool air and the presence of one person after that are near silence.

Nicholas led her to a car and opened the passenger door for her. She slid into the leather seats with a smile. Rachel loved how things felt and smelled. She relished in sensations. Tonight it seemed magnified.

He drove and she studied his profile. Attempts at conversation would be rather one sided in the darkness. She could feel the slight vibrations on the door indicating he had music on and wondered what it was. She trailed the velvet softness of the rose over her cheek and let her mind wander.

This would be their first night together, but they had been corresponding for almost six months. She had seen him in her college class on human sexuality. He was on a panel discussing alternative lifestyles. His email was on a handout along with the other panelists. Rachel had waited several weeks before she got the courage to send him the first email.

Over the six months, he had suggested books for her to read, they had discussed what she felt, her curiosity. She never mentioned her deafness until a month ago. Rachel was worried he would find it distasteful, but he rolled with it. She was the one to suggest that maybe she should dip her big toe into the waters. He asked to be the one to guide her.

He pulled into the driveway of a two-story craftsman house and helped her out of the car. Inside, he put his car keys in a bowl by the door and led her into the living room where a fire danced in the fireplace. He faced Rachel, his hand just touching her chin, "Are you sure you want to do this?" He spoke so she could read his lips.

"Yes, Sir."

He smiled, still holding her chin, exerting that little bit of early control, "Safe word?"

They had discussed that before. Rachel had daydreamed of things happening and then her calling out something. It all sounded silly but with this new territory for both of them, she knew the needed it. "Platypus"

He nodded, "Ready?"

"No. Yes. Please Sir, lead me."

He took the rose from her hand and placed it on an end table and then went around the room adjusting the drapes so they had privacy. He took a seat in a leather chair near the fireplace. He just looked at her standing there for some time.

"Blue is a good color for you."

She blushed, "Thank you, Sir."

"Take off your dress, Rachel," he made a motion to accompany his words.

So it would begin. She unzipped the dress and slid it off her body, stepping out of it, a bit unsure where she was supposed to put it. He motioned to another chair within arms reach. Carefully she laid it across the back and then looked back to him.

He had warned her in his email of several of the things that would happen tonight. She knew that undressing would be the first step. Perversely perhaps, she had worn a full slip. She supposed it would have been sexier to wear nothing at all underneath, but here she was in her white slip.

He let her stand for a while, and then made the motion again. Rachel pulled the slip over her head and added it to the dress on the chair. She tried to stand tall now, nervous about standing half naked in front of him. Her bra and panties were new. She had spent hours in the store trying to pick something beautiful. She had settled on white lace. The look on his face told her they were worth the price.

He stood now and walked over to her, around her. She moved her head to watch him, but he came back around and arranged her body to suit him, "Stand still, Rachel. I do not want to use the crop too early."

He moved behind her and ran his hands over her shoulders, down her back, unfastening her bra. Rachel shivered as he walked back in front of her, his hands never completely leaving her skin as he slid the straps down and then pulled the bra off her body.

Her breasts bounced slightly as they were freed and the nipples harden quickly. His hands caressed each one, thumbs teasing the nipples until she arched slightly at the soft pleasure of his touch. He smiled.

In a lazy enough movement, he knelt in front of her, his hands sliding down her sides, catching the lace of the panties and sliding them down. A slight pressure on her foot indicated she should step out of them. He left the panties on the floor and ran his hands back up her legs, around her hips, stroking the soft curves of her backside. Rachel kept her eyes on him as her body warmed and responded. His hands traveled back down and delicately he unbuckled each of her high-heeled sandals and helped her out of them.

He stood and gazed at the girl in front of him. Rachel felt a blush spreading from head to toe. She was really doing this. She was really naked in front of him.

He walked around her again, studying her body and posture. Rachel tried to stand gracefully with her head held high. He went to a bookshelf and came back with a box. He opened it and showed it to her. Inside was a lovely choker -- a wide strip of black velvet had a red stone pendent. He lifted her chin again so she could read his lips.

"When you wear this, you are mine, my treasure, my pet. Do you understand?"

Rachel glanced at the choker and then back to him, "Yes Sir. When I am wearing this, I am yours."

He removed it from the box and she lifted her long dark hair off her neck as he fastened it on. It had the fastener with a number of links so it could make it as snug as needed.

It was a powerful feeling as he put it around her, fastening it. She could feel her need for this growing, the wetness building between her legs as she took another step into this world. The pendent rested in the hollow of her neck and its light weight still had the edge of weightier bonds.

He stood in front of her with a pleased smile, "Shall we go to the playroom?"

"Yes, Sir."

The playroom was a spare bedroom with various items that Rachel recognized from her explorations online, as well as one or two that she did not recognize. She stood in the doorway, nervously rubbing her hands together. Nicholas gave her time to look around, but he did come over and gently took her hands and lowered them to her sides.

He stood directly in front of her so she could see his face, "Are you still okay?"

Rachel nodded nervously, still glancing around.

His fingertips caught her chin, making her look at him. There was a questioning look on his face, one of expectation. Rachel gave him an equally confused look back. She couldn't think of what he was waiting for.

"I asked you a question," he prompted, his facial expression showing gentleness. She stared at him intently, trying to read from his expression what he wanted. She had replied...Oh! He wanted a vocal reply.

"Yes, Sir. You want me to always voice my replies?"

"I should punish you," he stroked his upper lip thoughtfully, hand to chin and she lost the rest of what he said. Then he turned and walked over to a table and patted it as he turned back. Again, he gave her a significant look of expectation with a touch of impatience.

"Please, Sir," Rachel was back to hand wringing, "I could not see what you said."

His face flickered with frustration, "Hands at your sides. Stand still."

She dropped her hands again and realized she was twisting her toes into the carpet. She tried to stand still while concentrating on his words.

"...apology to you...communication more difficult...patience...try again....here on table."

She was too embarrassed to ask him to repeat it again, so she nodded and voiced, "Yes, Sir." Hopefully she hadn't missed anything too important.

Rachel walked over to the table, watching him carefully for body clues that she was doing the right or wrong thing. She sat on the edge of the table. He moved in front of her.

"I am going to restrain you. From here I will not be speaking to you much. If you are uncomfortable or need me to stop, you will use your safe word. Yes?"

"Yes, Sir. If I am uncomfortable or need to stop, use the safe word," she repeated it so he would know she had gotten it; or if she had bungled it, he could correct her.

He nodded, smiling and helped here to lie back on the table. Rachel could sense his skill as he took sheepskin lined cuffs and fastened her to the table. From their conversations before, she knew what he planned to do...mostly.

Rachel was not mentally prepared for the sensation of having her hands restrained. She supposed it would be like a hearing person being gagged for the first time and the feeling they must have as they realize that their ability to communicate has been cut off by the desire of another person. She still had her voice, but it wasn't her first instinctive response anymore.

She moved and squirmed in the bonds, not so much testing them, as experiencing her first real experience with the sensation. They made her nervous, but she liked the feeling of helplessness, the possibilities of what was to come, what he could do.

She watched him gather equipment. His body language had changed. He had been sure and confident before, but he was in control now. He moved with an air that radiated controlled power. It was intoxicating.

He brought back a small soft-leather flogger and trailed the ends on her skin, watching his willing captive shiver and wiggle on the table. They tickled, they aroused. This had been in her list of things she wanted to try. Skillfully he lifted the flogger and then brought it down. Up and down in a smooth steady pattern across her upper thighs. Oh Lord, it was so more real than she had ever imagined. She wanted to curl up to protect herself, but the restraints held her snug. At the same time, Rachel wanted to expose more of herself to the soft leather that sent the arousal through her in throbbing waves.

Touch and sensation are intensified in the deaf. It is how they communicate, how they interact. Rachel knew that there was no way she could turn back on this life now.

He paused, letting his fingertips run over her body, tracing the marks that lingered. She must have moaned or sighed because she could see the tremor of light laughter in his body.

"...like this....hotter than I thought....more."

Reading lips took concentration and she realized that the farther he took her in, the harder it would be for her to be able to concentrate that hard.

"Yes, Sir," she responded, wanting more.

He took a vibrator, showed it to her and then ever so slowly, inserted it into her pussy. It began to hum and wiggle inside, already making the girl strain at the leg restraints, wanting to close her legs and trap in inside of her. He leaned over and took one of her nipples in his mouth and began to suck, lick and tease it while his hand did the same to the other.

Rachel wiggled and struggled in the restraints. She was not trying to get away, but to communicate her total pleasure. The first orgasm rippled through her with little warning. Nothing could make here want to leave this world now.

She floated for some time before she could open her eyes again and focus. She saw him sitting in a chair watching her.

"Thank you," she whispered, wiggling some in the bonds.

"I am not done with you yet. You know that, don't you?"

Rachel nodded, remembering what we had talked about before, “Yes, Sir.”

He lifted his hand and she could see the blindfold. A blindfold may not be a big deal to most subs, but to her. It would mean almost total sensory deprivation. A blindfolded sub could still hear, but Rachel’s eyes acted as her ears. She would be in effect, blind and deaf, and with her hands still tied, almost unable to communicate.

She wanted to say no, but even more she wanted to know. "Please, Sir," she could feel the unsteadiness of her voice, "Please blindfold me."

His fingers were cool but strong as they brushed her face, the fabric slipping over her head, secured snugly, limiting her world to that which she could feel across her skin.

It was as if her skin came alive. Rachel could feel the slightest movement of air. She steadied her breathing and did not panic. She was not prone to panic, and her body was still humming happily from the earlier orgasm.

Still, she was grateful that he kept a hand on her, orienting herself to where he was. He was teasing on of her nipples again, pinching on it, tugging it and then she felt the touch of metal. It gripped the sensitive flesh and began to tighten. Nipple clamps. It hurt, but not like she had imagined it would. It was a warm pain, full of promise. Metal captured the other nipple and she could now feel the touch of the connecting metal chain on her skin. He tugged on the chain lightly, and the girl’s body tried to follow the path of the clamps, the restraints holding her down.

His fingers traced over her face and around the edge of her lips. She opened her mouth to lick his fingers when he pushed something into her mouth. She didn't resist at first, trying to figure out what it was. He easily lifted her head and fastened this thing tightly, pushing the soft ball deeper into her mouth. A gag? No! Rachel pulled frantically at the restraints. He couldn't do this!. What if she needed to use the safe word?

Suddenly, he was gone. She could feel it. Rachel struggled more and then lay still, trembling on the table. Had he left her altogether? How long? Had she done something wrong? Was this a punishment?

Rachel jumped and then relaxed as his fingers played with her wet cunt, stroking, feeling, and soothing her body. His touch was not to arouse her more, but to calm her. Slowly she relaxed, reminding herself that he knew what he was doing.

Then his finger slipped lower and pushed against her tight asshole. She tried to wiggle away, but he kept up with her, pushing steadily until he forced past the muscle and inside. Rachel shook her head and tried to say her safe word. She didn't want this. The finger withdrew and once again he stroked her to calmness. And then he began to push at her asshole again. Again his finger slipped in. she relaxed as he did this over and over gently. It felt odd, nice, but dirty. He pulled his finger out and pressed it against the muscle again. She pushed to open the hole to him, but it was not his finger this time, but something bigger, thicker. Rachel struggled to escape it, but she couldn't. Wider and wider it opened her, going deeper and then it tapered off and her body closed around it, trapping it inside of her, thick and hard. Then it began to vibrate.

His hands left her body, leaving her to the merciless attention of the plug in her body. Anger, arousal and fear clashed inside her. He knew she didn't want anal penetration, and yet... oh God, it felt good. He left her this way, helpless and aroused until her whole body throbbed with the need for orgasm, but no matter how hard she tried, Rachel could not seem to get there. She yanked and pulled at the cuffs as a way to communicate her need.

Without warning, he was between her legs, thrusting into her with a thickness that was amazing and wonderful. It was as if her entire being and purpose had been rerouted to that throbbing needful area between her legs. Between him and the plug she was filled and stretched beyond anything she had ever imagined. He tugged on the chain between her nipples and she arched with an orgasm greater than anything she had ever experienced before. Rachel would have happily stopped to rest and recover, but he kept going, forcing another and yet another orgasm from her helpless body, proving to her that he was the master of her body, that she was a tool for him to use.