March

Below is a text I exchanged with a friend just a little while ago (apologies for the ham-fisted editing).    And, no, that icon over there wasn’t so I could be vague about my identity.  It happens to be a photo of me in a chicken mask that is my avatar on just about everything now.

Anyhow.

The text seems fairly normal, but it represents one of my punishments for the month.  For the month of March I have to ask him for permission before I make any social plans.   This was one of those ideas of his that when it first came up, I thought it sounded, fairly innocuous, perhaps even boring.

I’ve found since we started all this, it is pretty sexy.   When I sent one of the first requests early in the month, I knew it was going to be fun.

Daddy, 

I wanted to write and ask if it is OK if I hang out with Sarah on Wednesday night?

 

Obviously no plans have been formally made, but she and I were discussing doing something after work.

 

What do you think?

 

Thanks for considering my request.  I think it helps to have your input because I am so terrible at managing my own time.

 I have to admit that in some really horny moment I might have suggested that we just make this a permanent rule.

 

Of course, I guess now is a relevant time to mention part of the reason I have been so incredibly wound up this month is that in addition to this fairly sexy task, I also can’t cum.  At all.  For the whole month of March.  I have been so stupidly horny that I got sort of angry about the whole thing earlier in the week.  I just, really want to have an orgasm.  It has been a while since I’ve wanted to so badly.  It has also been a while since he has been this serious about not letting me cum.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d say it is fairly unusual for me to be allowed to cum in any given sexual encounter.  But a month is pretty serious business.  It is also somehow worse because I know that it isn’t even a possibility for the whole month.  He isn’t going to change his mind and I’m not going to be allowed to make a mistake.

 

So, that is how my March is going so far.

The Rules: 2.2

I checked and perhaps the earliest rule is rule 2.2 (thank you versioning in GoogleDrive).  It sat at the number once spot for a while until the rules were refined and adjusted.

Rule 2.2:  He is in control of when I orgasm. I will not orgasm without explicit permission from him. Any orgasm not with him (or explicitly directed by him) will have consequences.

Rule 2.2 has also morphed a bit.  In its earliest form it simply read:  Orgasms not with him (or directed by him) have consequences.

In some ways, this is this most standard D/s rule we’ve got on the list.  I think a lot of relationships with a power play dynamic or even the most basic Dominance/Submission elements will at some point veer off into orgasm control or denial.   This rule is interesting.  I’ve talked with him about it explicitly and while he does switch on occasion, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t ever agree to this rule himself.  The release from orgasm is just too important (routine? expected?) for him.  In fact, every time I mention my enthusiasm for this particular rule, folks without exception understand it, but can’t relate to actually doing it themselves.   And this doesn’t have to do with the vanilla/kink divide.   For whatever reason even my pretty solidly kinky friends think I’m ridiculous when it comes to this one.

I suspect this has to do with my exuberance and extent of the thing.

To explain what I mean, I’ll confess I think I’ve cum really recently.  And that was last Saturday evening (the 7^th at the time of this writing).  And I broke the rules for that one.  So, it wasn’t even part of his plan.  Before that though, I hadn’t cum in weeks.  That is pretty typical.  Partially because I think getting to cum is supposed to be based on my good behavior, and while I am trying really really hard.  I think I have yet to get up to a level where I can cum regularly or even a lot.

And I have to tell you, as potentially insane as all that might sound, I love it.   I also sort of hate how much I love it (typical).  I feel chronically embarrassed about how much I crave having such a basic thing being beyond my purview.   I mean, the idea that masturbating, which is such a typically personal and attainable thing is not allowed without having to prove myself and even on a good day is coupled with a humiliating permission request is…frankly super hot.

Still, I must tell you, when I do actually get to cum, I am having the best orgasms.  The illicit Saturday night orgasm (which I will pay for at some point), enjoyed in his car, in a nearby park on our way home was…ridiculously great.  I would trade two weeks of daily orgasms for that one.  In fact, I typically get pretty annoyed when I have to masturbate (at his request) – because for the most part I’d rather delay the release and enjoy it with him.

And I think, if there is something here to evangelize, I would preach quality over quantity.  I would include in my denial sermon, paragraphs on the value of anticipation, the cheapness of instant gratification and the merit of not rewarding the mundane.

The Rules: 2 & 2.1

Now that we’ve gotten past the introductory rule, the rules are more nuanced, complete with subsections.  Rule 2 is pretty important, so I’m going to break it up into a few different posts.  Especially because I have recently had an infraction on this particular rule.

Rule 2 – He owns my body. The following activities require explicit direction and/or permission as defined below. For the purposes of the rules, sex will hereafter be defined to include intercourse, anal sex and oral sex. Masturbation includes any self-stimulation, whether that involve hands or toys.

Rule 2.1 – He is in control of when I have sex. I will not engage in any form of sex or masturbation without explicit permission from him. Any sex or masturbation that occurs without permission will have consequences.

This rule has evolved.  It started with a basic rule about orgasm control (to be discussed in a subsequent post).  But given recent developments and some evolving preferences, this first part of the rule was born.   So, we have moved from standard D/S concepts, orgasm control, to a more comprehensive control.  Rule 2.1 is a bitch I have to tell you.  On paper we have an open relationship.  In practice, at least my half of things, have trended recently to being fairly focused on him.  But, the idea of having to ask permission before I have sex with someone else is pretty humiliating actually.  I’ve a few times been in a position where things could have gotten sexy, but I have had a really hard time sending him that text or email asking, so I’ve just decided NOT TO DO IT.  Requesting permission also is such a foreign concept when it comes to some ongoing partners (my ex for instance), that I recently screwed that whole thing up entirely.

I have a fairly close relationship with my ex.  He and I still spend the night together once a week typically. Although, almost without exception, it is a non-sexy event.  We just hang out, have dinner, maybe catch-up on TV we like or a movie.  The familiarity is great and he is more of good friend now than a lover.  However, the other morning, things got a bit sexy.

I was talking on the phone with my mom and he walked up to me, yanked off my pants and start fucking me while I was talking with her.  I admit that I’m not incredibly into sex with my ex, but in the moment it was pretty exciting.  I quickly hung-up the phone on my Mom and focused on the feeling of him deep inside me (it had been a while for the record).  After a fairly short, but intense period of time, he came and I was left with his cum inside me.  I didn’t cum myself and I didn’t think much of it.

Later that day I was hanging out with HIM (not my ex).  We were walking around my neighborhood and I was casually telling the story of my day, including the unexpected sexy times.  I was fairly cavalier.  He wasn’t upset but paused my story a bit.  “What did you say?” he asked calmy.  I repeated the quick comment I had just made about sex with my ex.  He replied, “That is an infraction.”

I felt immediate anxiety and realized exactly what he meant.  I hadn’t asked permission.  I started to negotiate and try to justify my behavior “But isn’t he granfathered in?  We used to have sex without permission all the time.  Recently even.”

“No.”

What makes the whole episode even worse is that I didn’t even stop to consider the rules.  I just went right ahead.  Now arguably, my ex took control of the situation pretty clearly, but even still I had the sex, went about my day, talked about the sex casually and didn’t even pause to evaluate whether this behavior was allowed.

So that makes this incident my most recent infraction (#23) and at the moment I am not sure what the punishment will be.  But I am concerned and nervous about it.

Sufficed to say, I now have rule 2.1 and the permission requirements at the forefront of my mind.

In an upcoming post…a discussion of rule 2.2, including how long it has been since I have had an orgasm and how I’ve gotten very very very used not to orgasming frequently.

Evolution

“I am going to remind you what you are missing” he said as he thrust his cock deep inside me.  Every inch of him inside me, every inch of him on top of me.  I felt panicked desperation as I realized what was about to happen.  “No, no no no please”  I cried incoherently.  He looked down at me grimly, and without saying anything else, he rolled over grabbing the blanket as he turned away from me.  I could barely contain myself as I lay there empty, shaking and moaning.

There is of course…some background.

The last time I had an orgasm was on August 10th. The last time we had sex that involved any kind of penetration was at least two weeks ago – perhaps a bit longer actually.  And I have to tell you, that August 10th orgasm was not great.  I was forced to masturbate while wearing the punishment panties on my head.  If that sounds to you like a combination of hilarious, humiliating and really really unsatisfying…you’d have the right idea.

The next time I am allowed to have sex with him, or any contact with his penis, is on September 13th.  I jokingly coined the phrase “penis vacation” when all this first came up and at the time that seemed like a charming, silly way to refer to what is a fairly extreme measure.  There is a lot I could say about the how and the why of all this, but what I’d really like to talk about is the hot non-sex I had this weekend.  In fact, that is all I’ve been thinking about today.

How did not getting fucked and not getting to cum get so goddamned hot?  And that is not even a clear way to phrase it.  It some ways, this is a worn out tale, denial is sexy, temptation is sexy, and if you’re me, humiliation and submission are sexy.

But,  I felt like last night was this terrible dark provocative revelation.   I deeply want him to have this level of control over my body and this is not a game.

Is it possible that I want this more than a good fuck or an orgasm?   That I need this from him?

It might be.