“Indefinitely” lasted until about 2:30 this morning. We had had a brief conversation about her comment to my last post where I basically expressed my confusion to her in person, told her I felt as though she had switched her position from the night before and made it sound as though I had put words into her mouth. But we never got to discuss it further – for me to also say I understand the extra effort denying me requires – since the kids needed to be put to bed and she fell asleep in my daughter’s room. I tried waking her a few times, but she wasn’t moving. So the issue was left hanging and I went to bed in a sour mood.
Around 2:15 or so, she was back in bed and on my side, arm over me. I was dead asleep and still conflicted about the strange way the day ended, but my hormones got the better of me and I felt the tube pressurize.
“Are you asleep?” she asked.
“No,” I replied, feeling the thick, hard root of the erection beneath the CB6K’s ring.
“I’m going to unlock you.”
What? “Why?” I asked.
“Because I want to have sex with you.”
Fair enough, but there was a sinking feeling in my chest just the same. She opened and removed the little brass lock and I removed the device. My trepidation had done little to lessen my erection and the sensation of the tube sliding off the hard meat caused me to sharply suck in my breath.
I turned to her, now totally naked, and she said, “And I want you to come.”
The sinking feeling sank faster.
“How do you feel about that?” she asked.
“I don’t want to come,” I replied.
“I’m ordering you to come.”
“It’s only been a week.” Actually, not even a week.
“I know.”
I started to run my hand over her, under her bedclothes, feeling her smooth warmth. But there was a heaviness laying over me. I really, really didn’t want to come.
“You’re in charge,” she continued, “I’m just going to lay here and enjoy it.”
Well, if I’m in charge, then I don’t get to come, is what I was thinking. My hands and mouth went to work. Emotionally, I was feeling very uneasy, but the hormonal sex lizard didn’t really care. The cock was achingly hard and insistently pressing into her leg. But it was not my intention to use it unless she ordered me to.
Her moaning and writhing became more pronounced. “How do you want to come?” I asked, knowing I had her right where I wanted her.
“I don’t know. That feels so good.”
No argument from me. I kept fingering her. Eventually, she came pretty good. No cocks involved.
As she lay there basking, I thought I could get out of the required orgasm I really didn’t want to have. But no. She opened herself to me, silently inviting me to mount her. I lined the head of the cock up to her wet warmth and drove it in. Of course, it felt heavenly.
“Do I have to come?”
“Yes.”
I started to fuck her, but felt myself in a strange in-between space. On the one hand, I was fucking, which was good (really, really good), but on the other, I still really did not want an orgasm. These two parts of me agreed to disagree and her control was the deciding vote. I kept going. Eventually, I came. It felt different. Like it was someone else’s orgasm I was only observing or something. The euphoric wave was missing.
Afterward, she had her arms around me and asked how I felt.
“Like I came.”
“And how does that make you feel?” Her executive coaching skills at work.
I pondered the question but decided 2:30 in the morning was the wrong time to get into it.
“Why did you make me come?”
“Because I wanted to take the edge off.”
“But I like the edge.” It’s kinda the whole point.
And then we drifted off to sleep.
This morning, I find myself once again (yet totally unexpectedly) doubting the path we’re on. I feel she released me and ordered me to come last night because the whole thing had suddenly become to much stress for her. We never really talked about what her comment meant, but she knew there was potential complication there based on my initial reaction. In order to avoid that, she pulled the release cord. All the way.
The cultural paradigm of appropriately satisfying sex says what happened last night was all good since we both came. The thing is, though, I find more satisfaction and a greater feeling of love from her when she doesn’t let me come. Telling me to have an orgasm is easy. Making me wait longer – to control it – is hard. She took the easy way out. I suppose I could have put my foot down and refused to come, but really, what’s the point of that? It’s only sexy for me when she’s not letting me do it, when she’s asserting control. It’s entirely empty when I do it to myself. If I had done that and not come after she told me to repeatedly, I would have started crying and everything would have gone to hell. No doubt. I guess, at the end, it came down to two unsatisfactory choices for me. Avoid orgasm and be left with a pyrrhic victory or at least submit to her wishes, even though I didn’t want to.
If her reflexive reaction to this kind of thing is to pull the plug when it gets hard, should we even be doing it? It seems obvious to me she doesn’t really get anything out of leaving me frustrated. She doesn’t seem to be getting any kind of rush from controlling me the way Tom’s Mrs. Edge does in their relationship. She’s just doing it, letting it turn into this thing she starts to worry and stress about. I don’t want that for her. This is supposed to be fun.
I’m sure she feels that giving me an orgasm is a good thing, but I don’t want it. That is, I don’t want it as long as she doesn’t want me to have it. If she really doesn’t care either way and is only humoring me, then I’m investing a lot of emotional energy and enduring a lot of frustration for nothing. Maybe we should ditch this particular kink and find another outlet we can both enjoy fully.
Totally amazing. I thought a guy would jump at the chance to get off. There has to be more involved such as emotional issues.
Sorry that you have this problem when millions of guys would gladly trade places with ya.
“There has to be more involved such as emotional issues.”
You say emotional, I say mental. In any event, it’s surely complicated.
I don’t know the rest of the context – i.e., I can’t tell what she’s thinking in all of this. But my response from my domme side is: the point of her controlling when you orgasm is that she controls when your orgasm. If she arbitrarily decides one night that though she said she was going to keep you locked up indefinitely that indefinitely is going to end now and she’s going to make you come, then that’s what you have to expect.
You concentrate a lot in this blog about not wanting it to be all about you – and believe me, as a switch, I know the insecurity that can come with being submissive. But what I read in this entry was not her giving up on the whole thing. It was her taking even more control from you. From your reporting of the scene, it sounds like she ordered you – several times – to come, in spite of your protests. I don’t think she’s giving up – I think she’s experimenting.
When you started out on this adventure I’m guessing you never thought that you’d get off on not coming. And I’ll bet you didn’t know, either, that sometimes you’d come and not like it. I haven’t personally played with a lot of orgasm denial myself (though orgasm control, oh YES), but one thing I do know is that when you’re submissive, part of what goes on is that sometimes you’ll be made to do things you don’t like. And the reward of that is the pleasure it gives your dominant – nothing more.
On the other hand, if that’s not the direction you’re headed in, then maybe it is time to move on.
Thumpy, I had some response to this that would have fixed your problems and cut your carbon footprints, but I think I’m going to defer to Ms. Wood’s excellent insights.
I find that I’m drawn into this because you and Belle are retracing ground that Mrs. Edge and I have covered, and I see (I think) the both of you doing things that we did, good and bad. Mostly bad.
You really need to find a center or focus to your relationship in which you become comfortable with the two of you simply being in a relationship, without worrying about the kink. I suspect that you’re trying to drive both things at once, and that’s part of the problem.
And as Ms. Docent says elsewhere, you also need to relax a bit. Understand that your relationship is going to last a long, long time; there’s no need to try to rush all the fantasies and scenarios ASAP. Allow them to develop over time. See what happens. You might discover something in a detour that’s better than what you originally imagined.
Intent matters a lot, and you’d have to talk to Belle to find out what hers was (which I know you did, later). Was she experimenting? Did she feel too much pressure herself and just want a break? Either thing is natural and fine.
Dominating someone can be exhausting and scary. It’s not nearly as terrifying IME as being submissive, but it’s still scary.
Your doubts, fears, and bad feelings are understandable and I hope Belle can help you with them. I think the advice to remember that life is long is good advice. Showing that you’re game and can roll with the punches might be important to maintaining the dynamic in the long run.
But being submissive turns me into an insecure, angry, pouty, fearful basketcase, so I really do understand where you’re coming from here. My advice (and please remember where it comes from)…
* try to relax a little bit, remembering that life is long and any one day is just one day
* keep communicating with Belle
* let Belle try things a few times to see if she likes them without trying to find out right away if she likes them and to exactly what degree and in what way
In short, try to be a little bit more Happy Fun Thumper with fewer of the warnings and caveats (but always consistent with maintaining your own mental health).
Now, the thing is, the advice I just gave you might be the very opposite of right. When Joscelin was at a similar point to where you are, he actually needed to be MORE needy, demanding, insistent, and imposing in order to bring things to a better place. There were limits and needs he had that we didn’t understand.
I told him at one point that he had used to be a rubber bouncy ball, and now he was more like a rubber bouncy ball inside of a bomb that I had to carefully defuse every time I wanted to play with him.
“I’m a rubber bouncy ball inside of a bomb,” he said. “But you’re wrong about what I used to be. I used to be a bomb inside of a rubber bouncy ball.”
And that is really true.
You’re playing with deep stuff here and eventually you two will have to somehow come to understand what you both need and what you can do and what the limits are. Or, if that’s too hard, at least come to find some subset of ways that you can play together that are satisfying and don’t result in harm.
So I can go two ways here, roughly either
* chill the fuck out! relax! everything is fine! don’t make everything so hard!
OR
* hey, obviously some really difficult and bad things are happening for you, and you need to figure them out and make sure they get addressed.
And I don’t know what the answer is, between those two. I don’t think I ever do.