“Just step this way, Mr Mortensen. As this is your first time, I’ll explain a little about what will happen.”
Having filled out the required forms about any health problems, finding he could leave nearly all the boxes unchecked except for the confessions about smoking and drinking, Viggo signed the declaration and followed the crisp, white uniform through the softly lit and deeply carpeted lobby, into a long corridor and through a white door.
“Here we are. Please remove your shoes. This is your private flotation suite, which will lock, when I leave, but of course, will be easily unlockable from your side, by operating this catch, here. Over there is your private shower and we request that you shower thoroughly before entering the water, naked. Fluffy towels and a robe are hanging over there.”
Viggo looked around the tiled suite and his eyes were drawn to the large, fibreglass egg in the middle, a cracked egg with a square lid standing open. He padded over and peered into the shallow, blue water.
“As I am sure you read in our brochure, the flotation tank contains a super-saturated Epsom-salt solution, which is about 25cm deep. This creates an environment similar to that of the Dead Sea, which lets you float effortlessly on the surface of the water and enjoy a feeling of weightlessness.
“The tank is designed to block out all external distractions, such as sights, sounds, tactile sensations and gravity.
“The salt-water solution is heated to skin temperature (35.5°C). Once you are settled, it is almost impossible to tell which parts of your body are in the water and which aren't. This will trick your brain into thinking that you're floating in mid air.
“With no commands needing to be sent out, activity in the logical side of the brain slows down until it synchronizes with the creative side. This will leave you in a dream-like state, similar to that experienced just before you go to sleep. In this state, the brain releases vast amounts of endorphins, a 'feel good' chemical.
“Restful music is played for the first 10 minutes. This is followed by 50 minutes of golden silence. As the session comes to an end, the music is played again so that you know that you should leave the tank. The door to the tank is fully controllable from within. You can choose whether to float with the door open or closed. There is also an interior light for beginners or for those who don't enjoy being in the dark and of course, a panic button here, but I am sure you won’t be needing it.
“After you leave the tank, you will need to shower again to get rid of the salts. Gels and creams are provided. Just take as long as you need and then come out and book your next session.”
Viggo smiled, “You seem very confident there’ll be a next session.”
“Oh we are. In our experience our clients find the therapeutic benefits, not to mention the creative benefits, irresistible. Here you can achieve in minutes, what would usually take hours of meditation. If you have any cuts or abrasions on your skin, we provide a jar of Vaseline by the shower. You may want to smooth some over them. Any further questions? In that case, I’ll leave you to it.”
The door closed silently behind her and Viggo quickly stripped off his clothes and left them on a white bench next to the shower. He dutifully washed thoroughly, toweled himself off and went over to the egg.
As he stepped in, sinking into the welcoming water, he mused on the atavistic memory in humans, which made floating in warm water relaxing and comforting. He had, of course, read about the work of John C. Lilley, the neuroscientist , who had first experimented with sensory deprivation and the flotation tank and given his insatiable curiosity and thirst for new experiences, it was surprising to him that he had not tried this before.
He lay there for a few minutes, familiarizing himself with the buttons on the inside of the tank and playing at pushing himself off the sides and trying to keep his arms and legs at the bottom of the tank, to no avail, while the music of the rain forest embraced him. He had remembered not to shave, because the salt could cause stinging to sensitive skin and had thought that he had no cuts or abrasions to cover with Vaseline, but an insistent stinging in his ass reminded him of the large and enthusiastic bowel movement he had enjoyed that morning and distracted him for a second.
Smiling to himself, he pressed the button to lower the lid and then extinguished the lights, giving himself over to the darkness and soon, the silence. At first, his skin itched all over in rhythm with the throbbing in his ass and he was aware of his heartbeat and the blood pulsing around his body. Soon it all faded away and he floated weightless, unable to tell where the water ended and his body began, his mind drifting off to a trance-like state.
He had closed his eyes and now he saw dream-like images, smoky and ethereal, floating above him. A procession of faces, young and old, unimaginably beautiful, careworn and lined or simply unmemorable, but none of them clear. Suddenly a new face swam into view, clearer than the rest and he jerked his eyes open. Hovering above him in the dark silence was a face he recognized, had studied endlessly, sat talking to over many a beer more than a decade ago, photographed both openly and secretly, obsessed over and longed for, every waking hour.
“Sean!” He murmured the words as he realized that impossibly, Sean was here, with him in the tank. The face widened into a broad smile and he felt lips on his and the brush of stubble against his own. He did not hear the filthy chuckle, as much as feel it vibrating through his chest.
Long fingers stroked his sensitized skin and he felt every inch of Sean’s naked body against him as they floated together. His flesh grew hard and rubbed against Sean’s answering hardness. Every nerve ending cried out for contact and he did not resist as he was rolled over to float belly down, folding his arms beneath his chin to keep his head out of the water. Kisses down his spine made him shiver and when the long fingers probed his cleft and pushed inside his boneless body, he keened softly.
The fingers withdrew and he felt the pressure of Sean’s cock nudging at first, but then entering him slowly, but relentlessly, while strong hands gripped his floating hips. The body above him moved rhythmically thrusting into him over and over until with a final mighty surge, he was filled, just as his own straining cock, grazing the bottom of the tank, exploded.
Rain forest music surrounded him again and he was once more floating on his back in the tank. He switched on the inner lights and blinked. He had read about people having hallucinations, while in flotation tanks, but this had surely been more than a hallucination. His ass was now stinging like a bastard and he felt a milder sting on his left shoulder. He put his hand up to feel and the skin was abraded, as it might have been by teeth.
He operated the button to raise the lid and stood up carefully, because the salt made things slippery. Anxiously scanning the water, he was relieved that there was no tell-tale egg white floating on the surface. So maybe he hadn’t ejaculated after all and maybe he was exaggerating the sting in his ass. Maybe he’d had a graze on his shoulder he’d not noticed before he got into the tank. The mind was a strange thing and his had been described as stranger than most, mainly by Sean.
As he rinsed off the salt and made use of the forest-scented shower gel and shampoo, he thought fondly about Sean. He’d kept track of everything Sean had been doing over the past 13 years and he knew Sean was taking a break right now. Coincidentally, he happened to be in London for a few days himself.
He thanked the receptionist and explained that although he would surely visit again, this was only a short trip, so he would rebook next time he was in town. He would, though, like to buy a voucher as a gift to a friend.
When he stepped outside, he certainly felt rejuvenated and relaxed. His senses seemed heightened, colors brighter and more vivid, sounds sharper and his spirits uplifted. He took out his cell and called Sean.
Maybe it was time to get together and talk about old times, maybe even take the courage to tell Sean how he felt; cast his bread on the water, as it were and see if it floated back to him.
Summary: Viggo discovers another way of sensory deprivation
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Actor RPS Pairing: Sean/Viggo
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1516 Read: 554
Published: 10 Nov 2012 Updated: 10 Nov 2012