and then I fell

After the tiny scene I wrote about earlier, I lay down to masturbate.  What happened next is described in the email I sent Joscelin afterwards:

Hello Master,

I imagine I’ll talk to you about this before you have a chance to read this email, but I want to spell it out for you clearly along with my thoughts.

I had an orgasm tonight, not very long after you had me kneel and watch you come.  (Oh, I had such a sexy time, and I am really sorry to have spoiled the denial aspect, which was honestly beautiful to me.)

I am not sure how to answer the question of whether the orgasm was intentional, so I’ll tell you how it came about.

After you closed your door for the night, I edged myself twice.  The second time, I got quite close before stopping, and when that happens I usually put the vibrator away for the night.  But I lay there a few more minutes and then decided to edge myself again.  I did not intend to have an orgasm, and I was starting to trust myself that I wouldn’t.

I actually went through the thought process of realizing that, truly, it would not be in my interest to have the orgasm.  It is far easier to endure a night of not having an orgasm than whatever you might give me as punishment.  It was kind of a warm, good thought, I guess.

When I got close, and then closer, I was thinking, in words, “You have to stop now.  You have to stop.  You’re not stopping.  You’re not stopping!” and then I came.  I never made a decision to come, but I never exerted the will I needed to stop myself either.  So it wasn’t an accident, but I guess what I want you to understand is that it also wasn’t an act of defiance.  It didn’t feel like that at all.  It was…a failure of will, I guess.  But I did nothing to stop or ruin it, even when I came, and there were many points leading up to it when I could have stopped it, and knew that I must stop it, and I just did not stop it.

Afterwards, I just couldn’t believe it had really happened, that I had let it happen.  I wondered if I might actually be dreaming.

I could feel very afraid, but I am reminding myself that you are my friend, that we do this because it’s good times, and that you’ll help me.  So I don’t feel afraid, but only a bit grim.  I don’t know how you’ll punish me, and it seems like a bit of a tricky proposition.  But I trust that the punishment will be meant to make me less willing to let that happen in the future, and I will do my best to accept it and let myself be changed by it.

I love you very much, Master.

Your slave,

[Dev]

A while after writing that, I went to bed.  I was having trouble sleeping.  I felt sort of itchy, horny, restless, sweaty – all those things you feel like when you can’t sleep.  Irritable.  Worried about the orgasm.

And I started to really want another orgasm.  I tried to figure out if there were a way I could justify it somehow.  Did I want to switch back and/or declare orgasm control a limit?  I most definitely did not.  Could I just lie, not mention it?  I definitely would not.  (I knew that even if I decided in that moment not to tell Joscelin, I would confess later anyway.  It would press on me with a mixture of dread and excitement until I did.  Also, I do have some honor.)

I picked up the vibrator anyway, and started to masturbate, knowing that I was going to come, but giving myself the option of backing out if I could pull myself together.  I felt incredibly self-destructive.  I actually begged myself to turn back.  On top of that, it actually took me a long time to even get close.  I had to work for that orgasm.

I had it and slept.

I have today off, which Jos does not, but I woke up when he started moving around.  I had sent the email the previous night, but he doesn’t read email in the morning or at work, so I knew I would have to tell him, either right then, or when we had dinner together after I picked him up at work, as I do on Fridays.

But I couldn’t possibly face saying that I had two orgasms.  Plus, there was a story there, but just saying “I had two orgasms” would kind of obliterate the story.  So as I was in the bathroom with him, I said, “Sir…I need to tell you something.  But I can’t tell you the whole thing.  Can I have your permission to just tell you part?”

“Um, sure, OK.  You can’t tell me the whole thing?”

“I can’t,” I said.  “I will later, but I can’t right now.”

“I guess I’ll understand later why that is?”

“Maybe,” I said.

And I told him about the first orgasm.  He reassured me that, although it was serious, he would not take it personally (as he had told me before that he wouldn’t).  When I asked him, he told me he was not angry, and when he saw how stressed I was, he gave me a giant warm hug.

I offered him a ride to work (he usually takes the bus) and he accepted happily.  I printed the email for him to read, thinking it was as good a way to tell the story as any.  And then, on the way to his office, I told him about the second orgasm.  I told him about the way that it felt completely self-destructive and yet I feared that calling it that was essentially the excuse I’d settled on for having it, though it was also true to how I felt.

He said he totally understood the second orgasm, how that could be.  He reminded me that what we’re doing is not about guilt, and asked me not to feel guilty.  But of course I did, and do.

Joscelin has never, not once, intentionally had an orgasm without my permission, in the almost two years we’ve been doing this, and despite being denied much more cruelly than I ever have been.

I lasted three days, and came after a beautiful episode of denial that was exactly what I longed to experience.

We discussed what punishment he would mete out, which so far amounts to not that severe of a beating.  I can’t take any more severe of a beating without becoming traumatized, so I certainly can’t push for more of that, but I did push him to punish me in some other way that would make it not have been worth it, because, honestly, I told myself at the time that coming wouldn’t be worth it, and I don’t want that to be a lie.  I want the punishment to help me not do this again.

“You’re setting me up to fail,” I said.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even fully decided what I’m doing yet,” he said.

“OK.”

“One thing seems clear,” he said a few minutes later.  “You’re not to touch yourself until further notice.”

“Yes, Sir.”

And so I am not.  And I’m amazed by how many times the impulse to lie down and masturbate has come to me just this morning.  It is, honestly, something of a comfort to know that I’m not allowed to even begin.  I don’t have to stop myself from coming, which happens at the end of a very slippery slope.  I just have to stop myself from the much more straightforward act of masturbation itself.

This is going to be hard, but in a way that I want.  Unlike earlier in the week, I feel no desire to stop being the submissive, to switch back, or anything like that.  I choose this.