Gemma and Gareth have recently moved home from their flat to a very nice old 3-bedroom terrace house in Edinburgh which does have a cellar. This presented both of use with an opportunity – I can finally fulfil a childhood fantasy and Gemma (studying for a Masters) can study the effects of sensory deprivation!
It was a bright and sunny but cool Tuesday morning in October. Gareth had left for work, and Gemma and I were sat around the dining table talking over breakfast.
Gemma was wearing a loose-fitting University of Edinburgh light grey hoodie and skin-tight faded blue jeans, with white socks and Adidas white-striped blue leather trainers.
I was wearing a loose-fitting University of Edinburgh forest green sweatshirt, over a white t-shirt tucked into faded blue jeans and white socks with Adidas Gazelle white-striped black leather trainers.
“Ready?” Gemma asked, smiling at me.
“I’ll just pay a visit.” I replied, standing up.
While I went to the bathroom, Gemma gathered our breakfast pots onto the tray and took them into the kitchen. She stacked the dishwasher and set it going.
As I returned to the kitchen, Gemma opened the door to the cellar and switched the light on. I followed her carefully down the steep stone steps.
The cellar was a small, squared-shaped room with no windows, and just a 40-watt lightbulb for light. A rather shabby old kitchen table stood against the wall to the right. There were a lot of hooks of various shapes and sizes on the walls.
A pair of steel handcuffs hung by the connecting chain from a hook on the wall opposite the stairs. I walked over to them, and stood with my back up straight against the wall and held my arms up.
“We must make you comfortable!” Gemma teased as she fastened the cuffs snugly round my wrists, preventing me from lowering my arms.
Gemma went over to the table and returned carrying a black Royal High School Edinburgh gym bag. She opened the bag and placed it over my head, effectively hooding me, and making sure I could breathe freely as she pulled the drawstrings round my neck.
“Oh, you do look the part!” Gemma teased.
“It’s great!” my slightly muffled voice replied gratefully.
“I’ll be back…...soon!” Gemma exclaimed, heading for the stairs.
With a demonic laugh, Gemma turned the light out and closed the cellar door as she left.
The door opened and the light (for all the good it was! LOL) went back on. Gemma carefully descending the steep stone steps and sauntered over to me.
I had no idea how much time had passed – my only clue was my arms were really aching from being held up by the cuffs.
“Still with us, sweetie?” Gemma teased, as she undid the drawstrings and removed the “hood”.
“It was a great experience, but my arms are really aching!” I replied, writhing as much as I was able.
“Aaawww!” Gemma laughed. “Shall I tighten the cuffs and keep you there all day?”
“You are so cruel!” I retorted, as Gemma reached up and unfastened the handcuffs.
“I am your sister!” Gemma laughed, as my arms dropped to my side once they were free of the cuffs and I rubbed them. “How long do you think you’ve been here?”
“No idea!” I admitted, still rubbing my aching arms as I followed Gemma across the floor and up the stairs. “How long?”
“Exactly three hours!” Gemma exclaimed proudly as we entered the kitchen. “I’ve got a lot done. Let’s do lunch.”
Gemma had made a lunch and set it out on the dining table. We had a most enjoyable lunch while my arms recovered.
Paulscot & Gemscot
