Placed Up On My Knees With Two Simple Commands: “Place Your Hands Just Above My Knees And Do Not Let

You are such a sick fuck Oh, how I adore a sick fuck

An Update on Orgasm Control

I have gone farther into orgasm control and denial than I ever expected, and I can honestly say that I don’t regret it. Today officially marks 8 months since my last true orgasm so I thought I would post an update to mark the milestone.

The Progression Over Time

In October I gave complete control of my pleasure and touching privileges to my Dom. I only touch myself sexually at his instruction, and I avoid any non-sexual touch of erogenous areas as much as possible.

Three times every day, for Sir’s pleasure and according to one of his rules for me, I am to tease myself to the best of my ability for approximately 5 minutes.

It used to be that I was permitted to edge as much as I liked during these solo teasing sessions.

Then, a number of months ago, Sir informed me that edging was to be a reward only, and that I must stop for 10 seconds whenever I reached an ‘8′ on the 1–10 pleasure scale during a solo teasing session. [5 – starting to feel pleasure; 7 – that sharp intense “pleasure is building” feeling; 9 – edge; 10 – orgasm] I expressed chagrin and dismay, but willingly accepted and obeyed.

And recently, Sir instructed that I was now only to reach ‘8′ a maximum of three times per session. I again accepted and obeyed.

The idea of edging now seems to me nearly as licentious and almost as much of an “excess” as orgasm. I crave and enjoy every 8 I am permitted. If I reach an 8 during a session with Sir (not the teasing sessions described above), I half expect him to instruct me to stop, although I continue what I’m doing until he does. Sometimes he has me keep going until I report that I’m at 9 and am risking orgasm (at which point he will tell me to stop immediately) and on those occasions I feel the same sort of surprise and disbelief that I would if it became clear that he was instructing me to continue toward orgasm.

My Continued Enjoyment

My fantasies still frequently involve the idea of experiencing endless, helpless, overwhelming arousal, so it’s clear that denial and orgasm control have not lost their sparkle. In fact, when I am feeling the sharp/sweet combination of arousal, frustration, and denial, my instinctive desire—indeed, craving—is for more and more of the same.

I know very well that it would be possible to stoke my arousal and frustration until they burned so much hotter and more insistently, and I sometimes wish Sir would have me do so. It would involve much more frequent and lengthy teasing, and edging. However, it’s not just my orgasms and satisfaction that he controls, but my pleasure as well, and there’s no denying how much pleasure I would experience along the way. I accept that he intends to carefully control how much pleasure I experience, not merely to drive me slowly out of my mind with arousal and frustration without regard for real life consequences… although that alternate outcome still lives and thrives in my fantasies.

Trust and Surrender

I trust Sir, and his control of my pleasure, more than ever.

I trust that he’s making the right decision when he denies me pleasure, either in general or at any given moment. I trust that he has my overall wellbeing in mind, not just my sexual wellbeing or preferences. He has clearly shown over the months that my overall wellbeing takes priority even over his pleasure and enjoyment of my denial.

I trust him to be the one who knows when I will be allowed to have an orgasm and I have stopped being anxious and wondering when that might be. The ability to know what lies ahead is an element of situational control and I have now learned to surrender that, too. In fact, when I was told I would be able to earn a day of unrestricted pleasure (which has not yet happened), it felt disorienting because I had some element of control again… I could directly contribute to the circumstances of my pleasure. In all honesty, it feels better for Sir to hold all of the control, and for him to be the one who knows the when and how.

I also trust that he will know how much is too much frustration for me. If I am feeling exceptionally frustrated I trust that it’s something he wants me to be feeling and believes I can handle; and that knowledge allows me to surrender and let go into the feeling. Even thinking about it now gives me such a deeply rewarding feeling of surrender and submission.

And So It Continues

I tumbled down the denial rabbit hole, and I seem to still be falling deeper. Although… perhaps the metaphor has changed. I’m not Alice, who was alone as she fell: Sir is with me every step of the way. It’s not Wonderland gravity dictating my fall: Sir is leading me, guiding me, and teaching me. And I’m not overcome with fear, or trepidation, or even curiosity: I know that I’m safe and cared for, and I can let go of everything and follow where he leads. I look forward to seeing what Sir continues to cultivate in me.

Denial is inextricably linked with my submission. My submission and my appreciation of orgasm control and denial both continue to grow, each aided by the other. Where I’m at today, with Sir and with what has developed in our D/s relationship, is so much better—richer, deeper, and more profound—than getting to decide when to have an orgasm.

Postscript

The thoughts that follow surfaced while I was preparing to publish this post.

I’ve tagged this post with my #i am a denial slut tag because it’s a useful tag for this kind of post. However, that tag now feels odd to use because I’ve gone deeper. Orgasm control/denial isn’t just a surface level kink, it’s no longer a novelty, and it’s not merely an exciting turn-on. It’s part of who I am now, and it seems to have permeated everything. Somehow the tag almost seems to trivialize how I feel about it. I may need to do some more thinking about this.

I spent a long time wondering what it would be like to be tied up. Years, really. 

In my fantasies, it almost always involved intense, rough sex. I was almost always tied to something - a bed, a table - and I was always, always tied in some way that would leave me “available” for the mystery faceless partner in my daydream. 

And let’s not mince words: I love when DD ties me up in just that way, for just that purpose. Spread eagle on the bed, limbs tied to each of the four corners? Yes please. Rough and intense? Yes please. Tied open, waiting, ready? Yes flippin’ please. 

But this? Legs closed, simple bindings on wrists and ankles, being held firmly but gently?

Heaven. 

Unable to move while DD caresses, touches, kisses me? Lazy, long, snuggles, in which I can’t respond, touch, or even roll over? 

Perfect. 

Warm bed, half dressed, DD whispering against my forehead, while all of my autonomy is removed and I am made entirely helpless? 

I can’t get enough of it. 

Not once that I can recall did I ever fantasize about being bound and then snuggled. It was always bound and then taken, roughly. But bound and cuddled? I’m not sure the notion would have ever even occurred to me. 

But now I crave it. I request it sometimes. I need it. 

I even fantasize about it. 

I need my arms being held down, and I need the spankings, and I need the rough possessive words, and i need the cuff restraints, and I need his hand on the back of my head while he takes my mouth and throat. I feel deeply submissive when DD is rough, demanding, takes what he wants.

But I used to think that “dominating” always equalled “rough” and it turns out it really, really doesn’t. 

To be honest, I think sometimes that I feel most under his control, the most reliant, the most vulnerable, the most helpless, when I am bound in simple rope and cuddled. 

Because we both know, even though it is calm and quiet, that I am entirely possessed and utterly available … we both know that at any moment, he might want something more, different, rough … we both know that I am at his mercy, even in these most gentle caresses … and we both know that whatever he wants next, is his to take. 

Tell me

All your shameful secrets. The ones you keep hidden in the back of your mind.

They are safe with me. I will keep them to myself, thinking about them, plotting on them waiting till your no longer nervous that I know. Almost having forgotten you told me.

Then I’m going to use them against you. Every one of them. Taking each one and slamming it against your mind to make you humiliate and degrade yourself in the most depraved of ways.

Then I will use everything you did to keep those shameful secrets quiet against you to break every limit you thought you had.