Blindfolded Synonym Novels & Stories

Ever have a moment where all you see is complete and utter darkness? A darkness so thick that you wouldn’t be able to see one hand in front of another. Well that’s me. For all I see if complete and utter darkness, my sense of direction long since gone as my other senses become heightened. My eyes currently covered by a silk blindfold as if to keep me from seeing.

Somehow, without me even telling Coach about how a certain someone didn’t show up, he found out because he’s Coach and all. “Luckily for us, the game got postponed,” Coach continues, leaning backwards against the chair. He has a single toothpick dancing along the edges of his lips as he eyes us warily. “Which gives us time to seal the whole working together with the blindfold game. Nothing crazy. Baby girl made me play with her during the weekend and I realized it was a nice way to build teamwork…” “Sir…” “One of you will play as the blindfolded person, listening to instructions from the other. A single team against the others.”

The soft fabric of my shirt binds my hands together, restricting my movement and heightening my anticipation for what comes next. "Tight enough?" Andrew asked, his voice low and husky. I nodded, my heart racing with anticipation as he leaned in to kiss me, but instead wrapped something around the eyes of my shirt, blindfolding me. "Let's take this to the next level," he whispered, sending a shiver down my spine. My breath caught my throat as I felt his warm breath on my skin. I was unsure of what was to come next but eager to find out. The blindfold heightened my senses, intensifying every touch and sound, making me feel more alive than ever before.

I wanted to point when he spoke," ah-ah-ah..... blindfolded." The is definitely going to be a hell of a night.

I once believed meeting Charles was the final ray of comfort in my life. A sightless man and a terminally ill woman, leaning on each other to find warmth in the dark. I gave up chemotherapy, pushing through cancer pain to work, all just to leave behind every cent I had for my "blind" boyfriend and our unborn baby. I even signed an organ donor form, hoping that after my death, my eyes could finally bring him light. That belief shattered when I saw a photo in the hospital director's office. There he was, surfing under the bright sun. His eyes shone, with an arm wrapped around an heiress dripping in multi-million-dollar jewels. It turns out our whole love story was nothing more than a rich

"Because he's a fool. Like the rest of them. They see power and lose their minds." "Truth, Mathilda. Lying to me might be more dangerous than you think." I lean in grabbing her chin roughly. "Start talking, or I swear I'll rip your soul from your spine and scream it into void until it begs to confess." That gets her attention. Her blind eyes widen in terror. "The blind seer in High Pines," I murmur. "Does that phrase mean anything to you?" I ask again. Her eyes for a fleeting seconds, guilt flickers in her eyes.

"Can I take off this blindfold, please?" "Yes, you can," Shadrach nodded, taking the blindfold off. Wynter adjusted her eyes to the brightness. Slowly, she removed the blindfold, and her eyes widened in awe. She was right; they were in a garden, but not the one everyone could expect. The indoor garden was a magical oasis. Strings of fairy lights hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush greenery. Each plant seemed to shimmer under the light, their leaves glistening like jewels.

When Stevan saw the fabric between my fingers, his breathing faltered audibly. “What… what is that?” he asked, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. “A blindfold,” I answered with absolute calm, feeling the constant pulse of desire begin to demand its price beneath my pants. “I want you to trust me, but I know your eyes are capturing every detail of this room and turning it into a courtroom inside your head. I want to take away your sight so you can simply… feel. So you won’t see what’s coming next—only react.” He hesitated for three endless seconds, looking at the black silk and then at my eyes. Slowly, he set the wine glass on the nightstand and nodded, tilting his head slightly forward.

The fright Asher told me to act is completely real, as I tremble where I kneel, at both Sinful and Asher's mercy. Even, light steps approach, my hearing heightened without my sight. Delicate fingers are on my chin, no gloves there, as they tilt my head up. "The blindfold," a strange voice murmurs, "take it off the poor girl." It's Sinful. There's no doubt in my mind that I'm kneeling in front of him, hearing his voice for the first time. It's hardly as melodic as Asher's, but it's attempting warmth, the accent unfamiliar as it is thick.

Why would a blind man choose something so visual? Unless he remembers. Unless he refuses to let the dark win. I don’t know how long I stand there. Then— “What are you doing here?” The voice slices through the silence. Low. Calm. Controlled. I spin around. Desmond Blackwood stands near the door. My heart nearly stops. I don’t hear it open. I don’t hear him move. He stands tall in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His white cane, detailed with subtle gold swirls, rests in his left hand. Dark lenses shield his eyes, his expression unreadable.