8. Dance into the Light
By Gavin Trevain
"Are you heading home for the holidays?" she asks.
"Yeah, but I don't fly out until early Sunday morning."
"Bummer, because I don't get out till late Saturday night." At least, K is
departing on March 6, the first day of Spring Break for BU students.
"Do you need a ride to Logan?"
"Thanks," says K, "but I'll piggyback with Fay and Ray. Their flight to Memphis
leaves about the same time as mine."
"We might as well get together for Friday night."
"You don't sound too enthusiastic."
"Sorry, I'm just tired. I definitely want to see you."
"Did you have anything special in mind?"
"Well, yes, now that you mention it."
K listens to what he says. "I was kind of thinking it would be fun if..."
J responds, "Hmm...That sounds intriguing..."
"So which is it going to be?" she queries.
"How about both?"
"Will we have time?"
"Sure." They talk a little longer to work out some details.
"I'm going to miss you," he says.
"You're not just saying that, are you?" That's so sweet, K thinks to herself.
"No," he responds, "it's fun having you around."
"I might miss you, too."
They say their long good-byes.
***
Nadia Nguyen is naked and motionless again, her dark brown nipples transformed
by the wind wafting through the window. "How much longer?" she asks.
Olga looks up from her composition and gazes at Nadia's blue-black hair
cascading over her diminutive left breast. It's an abstract piece this time but
with a lot of detail. "Another two weeks, maybe."
"I mean tonight."
"We can stop now if you're tired."
"If you don't mind, I think I need a rest."
"O.K. We'll wrap up now." Olga puts away her supplies while Nadia shuts the
window.
"Brrr! It's freezing." Nadia shivers as she takes a gander at the
work-in-progress. "This one's very dark, isn't it?"
"For some reason, the darker ones always seem more interesting." Olga puts her
arms around Nadia.
"How do you decide what you're going to paint?" Nadia basks in the tenderness
of Olga's touch.
"I don't." Olga is standing behind her now, her hands tracing the gentle curves
of her partner's hips.
"What do you mean?" Nadia's breathing begins to change, almost imperceptibly.
"It just comes to me from above. And when it does, I just obsess over the piece
until it's done. The most important thing is just letting the inspiration flow
through my hands without getting in the way." Olga's hands are resting on
Nadia's derriere now.
"I think your hands are beginning to inspire me." The gentleness and
peacefulness she feels with Olga is unlike anything she has experienced with
anyone else.
"Does this mean you're not ready for sleep?"
Nadia replies by turning around, embracing her and kissing her passionately.
Much later, as they lie blissfully in each other arms - like lovers sometimes
do, Olga whispers in Nadia's ear, "Do you still have doubts about your
orientation?"
Nadia pauses and looks deeply into Olga's eyes. "Not any more. Honey, there's
no place in the world that I'd rather be than in your arms."
Olga returns her stare before kissing her again. "I love you."
"I love you, and everything about you."
Olga decides that now is the time. There is no point in putting it off any
longer. "Except that you don't know everything about me."
Nadia looks up, a little concerned. Her mind starts to race as she looks at her
best friend. "What do you mean?"
"It's something I've told no one... well almost no one... it's really difficult
to talk about..."
The tears stream down Nadia's cheeks shortly after Olga begins. They turn to
sobs as Olga continues. Nadia is weeping when Olga finishes. Both find it
difficult to sleep. Nadia holds Olga closer to her than she has ever done
before.
***
D is at a clinic in the poor part of town. It is here, coincidentally, that she
had met Juan, a young Hispanic man. They had struck up a conversation in the
crowded waiting room. He had asked her for her phone number and D, though she
didn't remember why, had given it to him. She had forgotten about him until he
mustered the courage to call her three weeks later.
"The doctor will see you now," the friendly nurse announces.
A tall, balding, white man wraps his arms around her. "Hello, princess!"
It is not a professional visit. "Hi Papa!"
"What's up?"
"I spoke to Mama this morning after you left and she told me what you had said.
It bothered me so I wanted to stop by before heading to the salon."
"Said about what, dear?"
"She indicated that you disapproved of my choice in boyfriends."
"I just said I thought you could do better."
"How could you say that? You haven't even met him yet. I can't believe in a
million years that it's his race that bothers you."
"You know better than that, D. That isn't the way your mother and I raised
you."
"What then?"
"I'm concerned about your future. You've almost finished four years at a major
university and I just wonder if hooking up with some construction worker fellow,
who may be barely able to make a living, is in your best interest."
"For starters, Papa, it's my future and I think I'm going to do just fine.
There are already three pharmaceutical companies that are interested in me. I'm
just dating Juan right now. But if, for the sake of argument, I end up living
with him or marrying him, I'm not dependent on him to provide for me. If
there's anything that biology teaches us today, it's that men and women want the
same things - access to resources and access to reproduction. As a woman, I
feel that empowers me because of the level of control that I have in determining
that access. I think this is probably the best time in history to be a woman."
"But what about his earnings prospects? Most construction workers are
unemployed in the winter."
"I hate to say this Papa but the truth seems to be that you think he's inferior
to me just because of what he does."
"How could you even have similar interests or an intelligent discussion?"
"Oh! So if economic bigotry isn't good enough, you'll try intellectual
bigotry?" She doesn't usually speak this sternly to her father, whom she
respects tremendously. But D realizes this is the time to draw a line in the
sand. "Should I remind you that there once was a very bright doctor who could
have tripled his income by setting up his practice in a less disadvantaged
neighborhood?"
The physician looks at his daughter, the only one, the youngest of his three
children, a very long time. Damn. You do only rent them. You do your best to
raise them. Then you have to set them free. But I'm not ready to let go yet.
Didn't think I had a bigoted bone in my body. Then your kids teach you
something.
There is a tear in his eye as he goes over and hugs D. He has never been
prouder of her than at this particular moment. "I was thinking that since
Spring Break is starting this weekend, why don't you have that fellow of yours
over for dinner on Saturday. Then I'll decide for myself if he's good enough
for my very grown-up princess."
"Oh, Papa! I love you." D almost crushes his neck.
As he watches her leave, he understands her strong need for affiliation and
approval, what with her being the youngest and all. But he also understands
about love. He remembers, many years ago as a pre-med student, falling in love
with a very attractive, smart woman whom he would one day ask to be his wife.
She just happened to be black.
***
L takes the campus shuttle to 595 Commonwealth Avenue - or 'Comm. Ave.', as the
locals call it. She enters a building, completed in 1996, that is the most
advanced facility of its kind in the world - located on the campus of the
third-largest university in America. But she has no particular interest in the
building since she is not a student of the School of Management. She is,
however, interested in one who is.
L heads to the second floor of the building named after an eminent Muslim
philanthropist, and almost walks into Breadwinners, a sandwich shop, by mistake.
She curses, as good Catholic girls are prone to do, before strolling into
Starbucks coffee bar. The good-looking, genteel, Jewish boy dressed in an
Armani suit and Bill Blass tie, is already sitting at a table.
He smiles as he rises to greet her. He selects a latte and orders a cappuccino
for her.
After some small talk, L calls the meeting to order. "I did tell you I don't
date?"
Not quite the auspicious advent he was anticipating, he asks, "Why is that?
You're exceptionally attractive."
"Thanks, but that has nothing to do with it. Between studies, work and my
hobby, I just don't have the time."
"What's your hobby?"
"Photography."
"Any particular kind you prefer?"
"Varies. Lean to portraits more."
"I'd like to see your work sometime."
"Let's not jump the gun," L deflects the advance. "I think we should have a
serious conversation first."
"Oh! I didn't know we were getting serious already."
L has to smile though she tries to stifle it. "C'mon, you know what I mean."
"I have no idea," says Dan, feigning ignorance.
"As I said before, I don't have a lot of spare time. If I were to get involved
with someone, it certainly wouldn't be for a spring fling kinda thing 'cos I'm
no ding-a-ling."
Dan bursts out laughing. "God, you're beautiful and funny." Struggling for a
retort, he comes back with, "You want to know if what I bring will make your
heart sing?"
"'Tis your rhyming that's too lame to get you into the game."
"That's a real shame 'cos you're a tiger I'd like to tame."
"Then you'd better decide 'cos I've got a ticket to ride."
"Rather than get snide, I'm gonna let that one slide."
"Well all right, enough already; keep this up, we'll never go steady."
Dan is in stitches and his sides are hurting. "These serious conversations are
way too painful; and, I'm saying that without trying to be disdainful."
L waits a few moments till Dan raises his cup. "'Fore you try another pass,
I've gotta run to class. Remember this before you hiss: No man who is a wussy
gonna be getting any of this p***y."
It is fortunate for Dan that Starbucks does not heat its coffee to the
temperature of molten gold like McDonalds does. It is fortunate that he has
finished half the cup. It is unfortunate, however, that he chooses this precise
moment to bring the cup to his lips. For all that Armani and Blass have toiled,
their creations are now severely soiled. Putting down his cup, he starts to
look up. But it's too late - she doesn't wait.
L has left the building.
***
J is laughing as he turns to look at his companion.
She is laughing, too, but she can't see him for a long gauze bandage wrapped
several times around her head blindfolds her. "That's funny!" she remarks.
J stares at her knowing she is oblivious to the rest of the patrons in the
comedy club.
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he says at the next pause in the applause.
"Yes, J," she enthuses. "This was a great idea since I'm not missing much by
not being able to see."
J holds her hand and places it on his knee. He continues to be amazed by her
child-like trust in him and senses how relaxed and comfortable she is. He takes
his other hand and absent-mindedly starts to stroke her right hand. A little
tired initially from rushing around and packing, J is just starting to get his
second wind. He waves the waitress away as they have finished eating. He has
also reached his three-drink maximum for the night.
The main act finishes and they get ready to go.
"That was fun but I need to freshen up before we leave," K says.
J leads her to the Ladies room and asks K to follow the first friendly female
face he finds.
J is waiting for her when she comes out. "Are you ready for step two?" he
inquires.
"Or two-step, whichever comes first," K says cheerfully.
***
She walks up the steps of the imposing Inverarity mansion with a little
trepidation.
It is not that she hasn't been here before to visit the sole heir to the
household appliance fortune. It is their last conversation that has her
worried. In her most private moments, she will admit to herself that her
primary purpose for attending university is social. Being an average student
from a middle-class background, she struggles to keep her grade point average
up. It is not that she knew Brad was rich when she met him but it is not
something she holds against him.
She looks up at the English butler who answers the doorbell.
"Please come in, Miss B. Master Farnsworth is expecting you."
She steps into the grand foyer that never fails to impress her. She could very
easily become accustomed to this opulence. She finds it quaint that the butler
still refers to Brad as 'master.' She snaps out of her reverie when she hears
an affected cough.
"Master Farnsworth asked you to read this before you went up."
B looks bewildered as she takes the note from the silver salver. "Thank you,
Boots."
The note reads: "Don't knock. Just come in and read the note on the desk."
B goes upstairs and enters the sitting room of his two-story suite. There is
another envelope on the desk. B shivers when she reads the note. When they had
spoken earlier, Brad had said that he had to tell her something about himself
but said that it might be easier if he just showed her.
She has been seeing him for nearly eighteen months and figures she knows him
very well. So she cannot imagine what he has to tell her, or rather, as he put
it, show her. Whatever it is, she hopes it is nothing that will jeopardize
their relationship.
B reaches for the scarf on the desk with a little hesitation before folding it
into a band, placing it over her eyes and tying it once behind her head. She
fumbles for the bell on the desk and rings it.
Very soon, she hears footsteps coming toward her and a familiar high-pitched
voice. "You may take off your blindfold now."
B unties the scarf, blinks and looks up from her chair. Her jaw drops and her
eyes bug out. For one of the very rare times in her life, she is speechless.
***
Although K knows what's in store for her, she is not aware of the exact
location. She finds herself being guided into the street and wonders if they
are heading back to his vehicle. But after a short walk, she finds she is
entering another building. She hears the music as soon as she heads into the
door and the sound of voices clues her that the club is crammed.
"The joint is jumping, J."
"Yeah, there's a colossal crowd," he agrees as he tries to locate a vacant
table.
They order some non-alcoholic beverages. While they are waiting for their
drinks, he sees K getting into the music by the sway in her shoulders. After a
sip or two, he says, "Let's dance!"
K doesn't need much encouragement. She loves to dance and is a much better
dancer than J. The first dance is a slow number and she feels like she is
drifting on air. She nuzzles close to him as he guides her across the floor.
For a moment, she wonders about whether others are watching her. But she
dismisses the thought almost immediately. She can't see them and she is not
going to let that bother her, anyway. She didn't tell J but she wouldn't have
cared if he had blindfolded her with a scarf instead of eye patches and a very
long strip of gauze fastened securely by adhesive tape at the back of her head.
The next number is more up-tempo and J asks if she wants to sit it out. K
surprises him by indicating she would like to try. They dance together and
apart, and J is amazed at how well she dances, seemingly unimpaired by the
handicap of her blindfold. He notices she seems very much at ease and appears
oblivious to the others on the dance floor. After a few more dances, they trek
toward their table.
"I'm having a hard time keeping up with all your moves," J compliments her.
"I'm sure you could give Janet a run for her money."
K beams. "Thanks. I'm finding that I'm focusing on the music much better and
my body is just going with the flow."
"Speaking of going with the flow, I'm just going to excuse myself for a moment.
Are you sure you'll be O.K. alone?"
"Unless you want me to come along to give you a helping hand."
"I think I can manage," J smiles, remembering when he had used the same line on
her.
J trundles through the traffic to get back to their table. He sits down before
he even discerns a dinky detail. K isn't there!
Prior to permitting profuse panic to permeate his person, he peruses the packed
premises for her presence. He descries the dazzling damsel dancing
delightfully. Her pixilated partner prances purposefully as she pirouettes
pleasantly with positive pizzazz.
J sips his soda and sits silently. K dances another dance and is led back to
the table by the stranger.
J pauses a few moments before speaking. "Remember me?"
The voice startles K. "Oh! You're back."
"Yes, I am," he agrees. "You seem to be enjoying yourself." The intonation is
different.
"Well, this guy asked me to dance and I didn't think you'd mind. You're not
jealous, are you?" she asks expectantly.
"Hey! I don't have a jealous bone in my body. Besides, he's unbelievably
ugly."
A slow number begins and J helps her up. "May I have the last dance with you?"
"Soitanly."
He guides her to the dance floor and holds her very close against him.
"Do we have to leave so soon?" she inquires.
"I know you're enjoying dancing in the dark but I have to get you home before
you turn into a pumpkin."
"I think you're getting the fine points of the fairy tale twisted."
"I was never very good at fairy tales or nursery rhymes."
"But tell me this," she asks innocently as the song ends, "am I dancing with
Prince Charming or with Peter?"
"Do you mean Peter Piper who pecked a pick, I mean, picked a peck of pickled
peppers?"
"I was really thinking of Peter Peter the pumpkin-eater."
***
She is still blindfolded as she enters his apartment. J carries in her
overnight bag that has a change of clothes. Fay had already picked up K's
suitcase and carry-on bag earlier.
After K freshens up, J leads her to the living room sofa. He turns on some
music and they dance a few slow dances. He kisses her lips, gently at first and
then explores her mouth with his tongue, while his hands caress her back.
Eventually, they find themselves back on the couch.
"I'm looking forward to turning the tables on you," K says.
"You'll have to hold that thought because it isn't time yet."
"And when will it be time, J?"
"When I say so," he affirms. "Besides, I've got an idea for a game if you'd
like to play."
"Let me guess. Does it involve me being blindfold with very little on?"
"You must have called the Psychic Hot Line to have figured that out," J teases.
"Are you going to tell me what the game is?" asks K, who is eager to try it out.
"I think it might work better if I don't explain exactly what the game is."
"But how will I know what to do if you don't explain the game?" K sounds
perplexed.
"You don't have to do anything at all."
"I'm confused."
"I just need a few minutes to get ready. But I don't want you to hear what I'm
doing so I'd like to put some headphones on you."
"O.K.," K says, a little uncertainly.
J places the headphones on her and dashes upstairs, returning with a comforter
and some other supplies. He moves the coffee table to one end of the room and
lays the quilt on the floor in front of it. He retreats to the kitchen to get
the rest of the items for the game.
J removes the headphones from her ears and whispers softly, "Let me help you out
of your clothes." J unzips and removes her dress. As he peels off her
pantyhose and helps her to step out of them, it occurs to him that he is going
to have to introduce her to garter belts and stockings. He undoes her bra
releasing her firm, full breasts but allows her bikini panties to remain on.
K gets goose pimples as he helps her to a sitting position on the comforter.
She has no idea what the game is going to be and is a little nervous.
J whispers again, "This game will work a lot better if you let me tie your
hands."
"You're not going to hurt me?"
"No," J asserts. "With any of the games we play, the person in the vulnerable
or submissive position always has the power to end the game by using a safe
word. In our case, the most logical safe word would be 'Tennessee.' The person
in the controlling or dominant position must end the game immediately. The
dominant one is responsible for the safety and well being of the submissive
partner at all times and must respect the limits that have been previously set."
"You're scaring me a little. This game you want me to play isn't dangerous, is
it?"
"No. It only makes sense if people participate in activities that are safe,
sane and consensual."
"I have to ask you right now, J, if you're into sadism - because the thought of
being whipped or having clothespins attached to my body is a definite no-no."
"Some people may engage in those sorts of things; and, that's all right for them
as long as the activities are consensual. But I'm not into giving or receiving
pain. I'm interested in vincilagnia as long as it's sensual bondage only; and,
if I remember correctly, you enjoyed it considerably on St. Valentine's Day."
He leans forward to kiss her tenderly.
K feels a little more relieved upon receiving the information he has just shared
with her. "O.K., J, I trust you not to hurt me."
K crosses her wrists behind her back but J brings them to the front. "I'm going
to tie you a little differently, tonight."
J takes her right hand and wraps a wrist restraint around it, tightening the
Velcro.
"It feels very smooth, almost like fur," K remarks.
"Yes, it is fur-lined and much safer than rope, which could cut off your
circulation." J takes the long straps and crisscrosses them about three times
before knotting it on her wrist. He does the same with her left hand before
asking, "Does that feel too tight?"
"No, it hardly feels like there's anything on my wrists." K seems surprised
that the restraints seem so light and that helps relax her a little.
"Now, lie back slowly and raise your arms above your head," J requests.
As she complies, J attaches a strap from her right hand through one of the brass
rings on the coffee table. He attaches the other end of the strap and knots it
tightly on the ring. He does the same with her left hand and has her slide
forward a little so that her arms are fully extended.
"Remember if you say 'Tennessee' or 'Red,' that means the game will end and I'll
untie you. But if you want to pause the game at any time, just say 'Yellow'.
When you're ready to resume, just say 'Green.' Got it?"
"Got it."
For what seems like ages, K hears and feels nothing. She tries to relax but her
mind is tangled with thoughts of what J is up to. Soon, she feels something
brush against her breast. It is soft and tickles a little.
J flicks the brand-new clean feather duster over different parts of her body,
never allowing it to rest in one place too long. He notices K giggle slightly
but he has only just begun his diabolical torture. He uses a variety of objects
including a shaving brush that he rubs on her thighs and belly.
K doesn't mind this game at all. It appears similar to the one they played at
Hair Affair. Suddenly, she feels a sensation on the soles of her feet. This is
a very ticklish area for K; and, soon, she is writhing in delicious agony.
Next, she feels his fingers on her belly and ribcage. She tries to move her
hands instinctively to protect herself but realizes she is helpless. She is
giggling uncontrollably as J moves to her underarms and then to her neck. It is
so delightful she can barely stand it.
"Yellow!" she screams, eventually, as he returns to her feet.
J pauses to allow K to catch her breath.
"Green!" K says as soon as she stops giggling.
Her tormentor continues to tease her, tickling her unmercifully but stops every
time she yells, 'Yellow!'"
K is not sure when the tickle torture is going to terminate but doesn't feel
anything for a couple of minutes. Her mind starts to play games with her again,
as she lies bound and in blissful blindness, anxiously awaiting the arriving
assault.
K's hips hop off the floor as she feels a piercing chill on her right nipple.
She hears J chuckle and is startled again as she feels the ice cube on her
bellybutton. She squirms in anticipation of where the next icy nudge is going
to be. J triples the tactility by applying an ice cube with each hand and with
his mouth. He brings a hand to each breast and his mouth in between. His hands
move in ever-smaller concentric circles as the cubes end up on her nipples. The
cube he drops in her valley begins to form a lake while the remaining cubes of
ice scale her peaks, pausing at her papillae pointing perpendicularly.
Without warning, he fires up a hair dryer and starts to render her breasts
alternately with hot air and an ice cube in his mouth. He uses his free hand to
tickle her ribs again.
K is going wild with the surprising sensations of hot and cold and her utter
inability to defend herself. But the tickling does her in and she finds herself
catching her breath just long enough to scream, "Tennessee!"
J shuts off the dryer immediately and unties the straps from the rings. He
holds her close and kisses her for a long time before finally removing the
restraints from her hands. "Was that fun for you?" he asks gently.
"Yes," she replies, "but that was very intense."
"Was that painful for you?"
"Only my sides from laughing so much."
***
After a while, J decides it is time to turn in, so he dims the lights. He
undoes her blindfold, slowly unraveling the length of gauze and removing her eye
patches.
K blinks and looks at him longingly before she plants a long wet one on him.
"Is it time, now?" she asks as she notices that he is down to his boxer briefs.
"I guess," J says, a little dubiously.
K pulls out the nightstand drawer and rubs her hands with glee. "How shall I
blindfold thee? Let me count the ways."
"It's your call but if you use a scarf, it makes the knot a bit difficult to lie
on all night."
"Well, I could use a sleepmask but you might pull it off accidentally in the
middle of the night. Besides, I was planning on sleeping blindfold, too, and I
love wearing a sleepmask to bed. I just can't decide between this red one and
the one with the animal print."
"Why not both? Two is always better than one."
"O.K.," she agrees, "but do you have more of what you blindfolded me with
tonight?"
"I'll check," offers J as he heads to the head.
He returns with the blindfolding supplies and sets them down on the bed. He
pauses for a moment and remarks, "Let me look at you one more time since this is
the last time I will see you till after Spring Break." He gazes at her a long
time and kisses her earnestly.
K blindfolds him the same way in which she was blindfolded earlier. "I'm
looking forward to taking care of you for a change. Will this be a record for
you if you remain blindfolded until after I leave?"
"I hadn't thought about it but I think it will be. By the way, I sleep in the
nude."
"Then you'd better wait until I blindfold myself," says the modest K, as she
reaches for the pair of sleepmasks. "Oh, the bathroom light is on."
"Does it matter?"
"I guess not," replies K as she brings the masks over her eyes. "O.K., I'm in
the dark, now, too."
J pulls down his shorts and hops in under the covers. K gets in, too, and feels
his hands on her waist. "No fair! Get those off," she hears him say.
Since he can't see her, she decides it is all right. "Remember we're sleeping
together in the literal, not the colloquial sense."
"Oh darn!" J retorts wistfully. "Let's spoon, at least."
J lies on his right side. K lies on her right side and melds her body into his.
She feels his left arm encircle her body and his hand on her breasts, while
feather-soft kisses caress her shoulders. She also senses something snuggling
her seat. Some wrinkled things do not stay that way for long. K drifts off
into pleasant blindfold dreams.
***
It is late in the morning when they arise though neither one can tell.
Eventually, K says, "You get ready first. I'll leave my blindfold on until you
put on some shorts."
"Are you decent?" she asks, as he blunders back into the bedroom.
"As decent as it is possible for me to be."
K blinks as she removes her sleepmasks. "That's not saying much. I'm going to
make us some coffee as soon as I'm ready. Can you use your exercise machine
O.K.?"
"I'll give it a shot," he says, feeling for the closet door to find his extra
pair of runners.
After a while K screams, "Java's brewed. Need any help down the stairs?"
"I think I can handle it."
K watches as he negotiates the stairs fairly easily holding onto the handrail.
"All the way to the kitchen unassisted?"
"Yeah." It's not quite as easy but J accomplishes the mission using the walls
on either side to straighten his approach.
K embraces and kisses him, unabashedly admiring his physique. This is going to
be fun. As he sits down, she comments, "A little rough around the edges, aren't
we?"
J is puzzled and doesn't know what she means until she strokes his chin. "Oh,
sorry."
"We'll take care of that right after coffee," K intones. She is in charge today
to do with him as she wishes, or pretty much so. She is enjoying the
role-reversal, especially with such a willing subject.
K decides that he doesn't seem vulnerable enough. "You found your way
downstairs pretty easily so we should make the return trip a little more
interesting."
She explains the plan before she puts radio headphones over his ears. She spins
him around several times and walks him around a lot as he has disoriented her on
previous occasions. She twirls him around for the last time before tapping him
on the shoulder. J has to find his way back to the bathroom with his blindfold
and headphones on.
J deduces he is still in the kitchen because his bare feet haven't left
linoleum. He walks forward with arms extended and careens into the counter.
Feeling his way along the edges, he is able to orient himself fairly quickly.
The remainder of the trip is a breeze.
***
K removes his headphones and seats him on the john. "Have you ever been shaved
by a woman before?"
"I don't think I have. Have you ever shaved a man?"
"Then this will be a first for both of us; and, it should be a really good trust
exercise."
"For you or for me?" J asks rhetorically.
K wets a washcloth and moistens his face. She fills his shaving mug with hot
water and places his Mach 3 in it. Kneeling before him, she sprays some Foamy
into the palm of her hand and applies it to his cheeks and neck. "Is there any
particular science to this?"
"Go from top to bottom or bottom to top but never across. Rinse well after each
stroke."
"Any preference?"
"I usually go against the grain - bottom to top."
"O.K." K proceeds to carve the triple blade in upward strokes starting at the
bottom of his neck. She finds the cheeks relatively straightforward but wreaks
havoc on his chin.
"Ow!"
"I'm sorry!" She genuinely is as the blood oozes out and starts to drop onto
his chest. She grabs a washcloth and dabs the wound but isn't sure if she
should go on.
"You need to finish the job. Just dab a little more foam on it and continue."
K continues a little more gingerly this time. She washes his face with the
washcloth and notices he is still bleeding from the nasty nick. "Should I put a
Band-Aid on?" she asks.
"Just spray a little more foam on and see if it stops."
K sprays a blob directly from the can. A wave of impishness hits her and she
blasts his left nipple, catching J totally by surprise. She blasts his other
nipple and bellybutton for good measure before swirling her hands across his
torso. Figuring she hasn't done enough damage, she gives his legs the same
treatment. She is amazed at how well J seems to take it.
"If you've had your fun, would you be nice enough to run a tub for me?" he asks
pleasantly.
"Sure." K turns toward the tub and opens the faucets. It proves to be a fatal
error as a blast of foam stings her naked rear end. Turning around only makes
matters worse as the blindfold bombardier blasts her belly. She is well and
truly creamed, so to speak.
They both get into the bubble bath and K decides to exit first. "Your blindfold
is all wet. You can take it off as long as you promise to keep your eyes shut."
"I promise."
"O.K. When you're done, knock on the door and I'll blindfold you again."
***
K turns off the light before she shuts the bathroom door. She puts on one of
his T-shirts and is waiting outside with a pair of sleepmasks when he emerges
clad in a towel. She places the sleepmasks over his eyes and tells him to put
on the skimpiest bathing suit he has before he comes downstairs.
She smiles and whistles as he emerges at the top of the stairs in his Speedo.
She follows him around and gets him to do some simple chores like washing cups
and dusting. She challenges him to do a load of laundry. J has to crawl around
the bedroom floor to find articles of clothing in the bedroom, while the towels
in the bathroom are considerably easier to locate. Measuring the detergent and
loading the washer does not prove too arduous; and, soon, they are in the living
room again.
As J sits on the chair, K wanders over and sits sideways in his lap and kisses
him. J notices she is wearing a T-shirt. "Isn't this a bit redundant?" he
asks, tugging at the tee. "If I'm going to spend most of the day blindfolded, I
think I deserve to spend it with a totally naked woman."
K sighs as she lifts up her arms and discards the shirt. She smooches him as
his hands explore her naked flesh. A short while later, K asks if he can turn
on some music.
J fumbles for the remote and succeeds in starting up the stereo. The first
track, 'My Father's Eyes', from the 'Pilgrim' CD, comes on. "Did I tell you
that I saw Eric Clapton perform this song live last year - it was one of my
all-time favorite concerts?"
Not hearing a response, J continues, "It's ironic that he never got to look into
the eyes of his real father, who was a Canadian soldier stationed in Great
Britain. His father never knew he had a son until much later, and died before
he could meet Eric."
"Please turn it off, J."
J struggles to find the mute button and realizes that K is sobbing. "What's
wrong?"
"I haven't told you this before but I don't remember seeing my real - I mean, my
biological - father, who took off before I turned two."
"Oh, baby, I'm sorry."
"Don't be," says K, recovering. "That song just triggered something. It was
fortunate that my mom found a terrific guy whom I consider my real dad since he
raised me."
"It's clear to me that he did a terrific job."
K snuggles closer and they hold each other a long time without speaking. "I was
just thinking about my childhood," K says reflectively. "Do you remember when
you first found you were interested in blindfolds?"
"About six, I guess, playing some party game like 'Pin the tail on the donkey.'"
"For me, it was around twelve when I saw a blindfolded contestant on a game
show. It just seemed pretty weird that it was such a turn-on. I felt like I
must be the strangest person on the planet."
"Like you were the only one who felt that way?"
"Exactly. For a long time, it was a deep, dark secret that I couldn't talk to
anyone about."
"I did at first until I found out in my teens that others felt that way, too.
But I still only share that aspect of my sexuality with someone I trust
completely."
"So you feel that it is definitely a part of sexuality?"
"Absolutely. All human beings are sexual beings from the time they are born
till they die. How much is genetic and how much is a result of environmental
influences, is still a matter of debate. But each newborn infant has a distinct
personality and mind, body and spirit start to develop from day one."
"But didn't you feel guilty or shameful about it?"
"Perhaps a little guilty during puberty finding out that it was so pleasurable.
But not later on when I realized it was part of the process of discovering my
own sexuality. I've never felt a sense of shame because being different from
anyone else is something I take pride in rather than lose sleep over."
"So you don't see it as part of your dark side?"
"Absolutely not. I think everyone's sexuality is God-given and that there is
nothing inherently wrong with that. So I fully believe that any form of
consensual sexual behavior between adults is acceptable, whether I agree with it
personally or not. Sure, everybody has a good side and a dark side like Sarah
McLachlan keeps expounding - that's fundamental Taoist philosophy or the
underlying theme of every 'Star Wars' movie. It is only when the line is
crossed - when activity isn't consensual - that the dark side of human nature
comes into play."
"But don't you think that incest or sex with dead people is wrong?"
"Yes, because neither incest nor necrophilia meets the standard of consensual
behavior between adults."
"So what you're saying is there's nothing wrong with blindfolding itself but
there could be, depending on how it is used."
"Exactly. The good side would be for games, fun surprises or erotic play
between adults like the kinds we engage in while the dark side would include
using blindfolds in kidnappings, executions, brainwashing and torture. The
cruelest example that I've ever heard of is using blindfolds as an instrument of
torture. This happened during the Vietnam War when some American soldiers
blindfolded prisoners-of-war with copper wire wrapped so tight around their
heads, it cut into their eyes. They then had contests to see how far they could
toss the prisoners out of flying choppers."
"That's repulsive. I wish you hadn't told me that. I might have nightmares on
the flight home."
"Sorry, but it just points out the extremes of man's inhumanity to man."
"Please talk some more about the pleasant aspects of blindfolding."
"Actually, I recently discovered a word, 'Amaurophilia,' that describes our
condition. Although you'd be hard-pressed to find it even in a medical
dictionary, it means, 'A preference for a blind or blindfolded sex partner.'"
"So we're not the only ones?"
"No. But there are probably very few of us around - so I consider myself the
luckiest guy in the world to have met you."
"That's so sweet." K kisses him warmly before adding, "Do you think that
amaurophilia is a fetish?"
"Under a strictly psychiatric definition, no, since a fetish is usually
associated with an object, like altocalciphilia which is a fetish for high heel
shoes."
"It could be called a fetish if you were turned on by a scarf, for example."
"True, but since it is defined as a preference, that would seem to place it on a
similar footing say as a preference for a same-sex partner. I think we
amaurophiliacs simply like the state of being blindfold, watching others who are
blindfolded, or both."
"But you think it's different from bondage?"
"Yes, because you can have blindfolding without bondage and you can have bondage
without blindfolding. People who are vanilla can occasionally enjoy either or
both in their sexual activity."
"Vanilla? I don't think I've ever been called that."
"Me neither," notes J. They both burst out laughing.
"Kiss me, my cheerful chocolate chic," says J as soon as he recovers.
"Soitanly, my mirthful mocha man," K responds. It's hard not to like a woman
who is a Three Stooges fan.
***
"Let's dance!" exclaims K as she pulls him up.
"O.K.," J agrees, "but after last night, I realize I'm not in your league."
"Just feel the music and let it flow through your body." She selects something
mellow and they dance to a few slow tunes.
"What now?" J asks, as they finish a dance.
"Let's play 'Deer Hunt' - I haven't played it since I was a teenager."
K scampers upstairs and returns with a scarf. She leads J into the kitchen and
moves the chairs away from the table. She spins J around a few times and leads
him to the table.
"Don't you have to be blindfolded as well?" J inquires.
"I am now," replies K as she finishes tying the scarf over her eyes. "O.K. You
get to be the 'hunter' first. Remember you have to keep at least one hand on
the table at all times."
K taps on the table, which is the signal for J to begin his quest. Although
they are both barefoot, the game is not very difficult but still enjoyable
because of the surprise when they make contact. They play the game six times,
alternating turns as the 'hunter'.
"I'm hungry, J, so I'm going to whip up something for us. I'd like you to put
the clothes in the dryer and then listen to some music with headphones. I'll
get you when I'm ready." K is tempted to spin him around again but decides that
would be dangerous since she has moved the chairs. Instead, she guides him to
the hallway and sends him on his way with a slap on his Speedo.
***
"Hmmm...that smells good," says J as he feels the headphones being removed.
"What do you smell?" asks K as she leads her blindfolded companion into the
kitchen.
"Eggs, bacon, toast - all my favorite things!"
K is very impressed.
J is surprised when he is not led to a chair. Instead she gets him to sit on
the floor. Feeling the fabric he is sitting on, he deduces it is not a towel
but a tablecloth.
"It's always been a fantasy of mine to take a blindfolded guy to a picnic and
feed him..."
"And since I'm the only blindfolded guy in the vicinity..."
"Exactly. There's no reason why we can't do this indoors. And, just to make
sure you can't possibly peek, I'm going to tie this scarf over your eyes as
well."
K alternates feeding him and herself and makes him guess which fruit he is
eating. Since she has peeled and cut apples and pears into cubes and even
mashed banana into a teaspoon to fool him, she is amazed at how well he does.
After the very enjoyable late brunch, J is required to wash the dishes in the
sink. This task is not quite as easy as he anticipates but he accomplishes it
without breaking any china. Drying the dishes and putting them away is slightly
more challenging.
***
After they relax and snuggle for a while in the living room, K says, "I've got
an idea for a new game. We'll play it after you take out and put away the
clothes from the dryer."
While J is busy with his chore, K gets the equipment necessary for the game. K,
who is still naked, guides J, who is still blindfolded and clad only in his
scanty trunks, back into the kitchen. After she seats J on the tablecloth, she
begins fastening the same restraints on his hands that he had used the night
before. She makes him lie back and ties each restraint to a table leg. K
enjoys this immensely as she gets the thrill of controlling the game while J
gets to experience the sensations of being the vulnerable one.
J fears the worst thinking that she will inflict the same torture on him that he
had inflicted on her. He lies blindly in the silence not sure what she is going
to do or when or where she will strike.
"How does it feel to be at my mercy?" she asks, eventually.
"I'm terrified!" He is exaggerating, of course, but there is a kernel of truth
in his statement.
She moves her fingers playfully up his legs and thighs and notices him tense.
She surprises him by explaining her game. "It's called, 'Guess that body part'.
When I ring the chimes you will use only your lips and tongue to identify the
part of my anatomy that you're tasting. Only at the end of the game will I tell
you how many parts you got right."
K sprays a little whipped cream on her forearm and holds it in front of his
mouth while she shakes the chimes. She sees his surprise as he gets a taste of
the cream. K contorts her body in several different ways, which makes it nearly
impossible for J to guess any body parts correctly.
Feeling extremely emboldened, she sprays some cream on her bottom. She almost
has to sit on his face to allow him to taste. K enjoys the sensation of getting
her ass kissed and licked for the first time. She laughs when J cannot identify
it correctly and determines that she will never tell him which parts he fails to
identify.
Finally, K decides to give him what he really wants. She sprays whipped cream
all over her breasts and lowers the snow-capped peaks into his mouth. There is
no problem with identification here. She allows J to lick hungrily and then
gives him a delicious face wash with her boobs smearing his face and blindfold
with whipped cream. She ends up lying on top of him, roaring raucously. She
gets up only long enough to spray the rest of the contents of the can all over
his body. They are both extremely sticky after she finishes writhing over him.
J feels his hands being untied and stands up. He thinks the game is over but is
stunned by a frigid gust on his back.
K's weapon is the squirt ketchup bottle. To complete the task, she smears the
blood-red goo all over his back. "I didn't realize you were such a messy guy,
J!"
"At this rate, I think I'm going to need a maid."
K grabs a towel and guides J to the bathroom. She runs a bubble bath and washes
him off before she enters the tub. They require a second one.
She wraps a towel around herself and blindfolds J with a fresh pair of
sleepmasks when he emerges from the bathroom.
"It's been a fun date but it's almost time for me to leave."
"Already?" J sounds as disappointed as he feels.
"You'd better kiss me and say goodbye to me now before I put on my make-up."
J takes full advantage of the situation.
"Why don't you go downstairs and listen to some music with the headphones on?
I'll be right down," K says.
"You know I'm going to miss you."
"Thanks. I'll miss you, too." K, who has already lost her towel, kisses him
again.
***
When K gets down and takes off his headphones, she says, "We might have just
enough time for a quick game of 'Deer Hunt' again. But we need a bigger arena
so we'll use the couch, which I've just moved away from the wall. I'd like to
dull your hearing just a little bit so I'll put a little cotton in your ears and
wrap a number of scarves around your head. In addition, I will dull your sense
of touch by putting oven mitts on you."
"That sounds hard."
"Do you want to play or are you chicken?"
"No, I'll play."
She puts a little cotton wool in his ears and proceeds to wrap four scarves
folded into bands over the masks, knotting each scarf behind his head with a
double knot. She takes a fifth scarf, folds it into a triangle, and secures it
with a double knot as well. J's head is now completely covered as she adds the
oven mitts. She spins him around four or five times before leading him to the
couch.
"Since I don't want to mess up my mascara, will you trust me to just close my
eyes?"
"Sure," J answers, which confirms to her that he can still hear her.
"Wait for the chimes to begin."
J finds the task more difficult than the first time as he proceeds first in a
clockwise direction and then goes the opposite way. The hunt seems to take a
long time. He cannot hear her moving but he continues his search.
The sound of a thunderclap jars his body. He doesn't know that the front door
was already slightly ajar before it slammed, and that the fawn never forayed
into the forest, firstly. J falls to the floor in a frenzied flurry of
laughter, realizing that he has been well and truly had.
J lies in the lightlessness a little longer, already plotting his revenge while
K, who slips on her shoes on the steps to the street, dances into the light.
************************************************************************
Author's Note:
Readers of this story may make a copy for their personal use. The author's
permission is required for any other use or dissemination of this story in any
form, any such use acknowledging me as the author of the work. Author's E-mail
address: trevain@home.com
************************************************************************
A Tale of Three Cities Trevain (1999-07-24)
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