Tremors
"Two broken women, bound by mutual need: one who can feel everything but see nothing, one who feels nothing until touched by impossible hands."
The world is white noise. I'm on my back, naked, restrained at wrists and ankles. Five distinct vibrating zones, special pillows, pressing against my upper back, lower back, hips, thighs. Another one rests on my belly. Each one pulses to a different, chaotic rhythm. My hands are gripping vibrating cylinders. My feet too. The sensations compete, overlap, create a storm of input I can't parse. Then I feel her hand on my inn...