Sensory experience and the act of yielding

One of the best pieces I can remember that relies on pure sensory experience is the opening of a story by Ursula Le Guin (The Masters) which describes some weird masonic style ritual.

The difficulty of standing completely still. Flame burning the man's cheek as he falls, a fiery torch in his hand.

It's a masterpiece. Nowhere more than in the utter uncertainty, the sheer peril of the moment as the blindfolded man stands, and wonders what is happening.

Now in fact, I don't think it's that far from a good BDSM story. It's all about that moment where you know that you have given up control; that what happens next is not up to you, but it will transform you in some way. It's what is not described that matters - the context, the ritual, the controlling will; all we can see is the darkness inside the blindfold, all we can sense is the emptiness outside, the yawning gulf that may or may not be there. And then we have to trust utterly, and take that step forward.

Good BDSM writing takes that moment of trust, that moment of fear, and yokes the two tightly together.

And I suspect that even if this isn't your particular kink (it isn't really mine; black leather is for the motorbike, not the boudoir, in my book), there's a little bit about that moment of trust in all good sex - trusting a lover to do something you haven't done quite that way before, to hold you just a bit too hard, to pull your hair or hold your hands down just once... or simply that moment before you fall into bed for the first time....