But while I think I understand how you do what you do to me, I don’t really know. And even if I did it would still be magic. Because, well… it’s you.
Terry Pratchett said it: “It’s still magic, even if you know how it’s done.”
It’s you that has caused me to be sitting here, typing in a puddle of my own arousal. Banned from touching myself until you say otherwise. Without your input and control I can go days, even weeks without thinking about release. However, as soon as you pick up the reins and tell me “no” I want to. I need to.
I won’t, of course.
I wouldn’t give you that control over me if I was going to wilfully disobey you. But the struggle is very real. My downstairs toy bag taunts me as I sit, trying to work, trying to ignore the sensations that spread outwards from my attention seeking cunt. “Go on N, you know you want to” my clit and bag cry in unison. My brain is on high alert this week, controlling the internal dialogue.
It is funny to me, and I am laughing at myself.
As I type out yet another email communicating my discomfort I hope you are not annoyed to hear from me. That you see it for what it is. Me poking fun at myself: whiny, needy and brazen in my desires, yet focused on the task in hand. Or not in hand, as is currently the case.
To NOT touch myself.
Everywhere I look there is suggestive content. Blog posts, my spotify randomly throwing out tunes to torment, random GIFs from kinky friends, even Facebook conspires against me. I have cleaned my home, marched around town under the stars, gone to bed early. And still the aching, burning, slutty craving grows. This morning I woke from a dream where I was kneeling at your feet, arms tied behind my back, you just out of reach of my lips. I rarely recall dreams these days, but this morning I am roused with an approaching orgasm. The images etched inside my eyelids for the rest of the day.
No touching. No release. No, N, just NO!
I wonder how I will be tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the day after that.
Is there an off switch?
Yes. You giving me back control of my orgasms.
Do I want it? No Sir, absolutely not.
You own me, and my pleasure is yours to do with as you wish.
Still, under your magic spell is precisely where I want to be.
Follow the links for more posts in Every Damn Day in June and Wicked Wednesday
It’s still magic, even if you know how it’s done was first published on A Leap of Faith.
From the story of how the barefoot sub became the woman she is today, to toy reviews, with a hefty dose of contemplation, a sprinkling of erotica and a LOT of nudity in between, you can be sure to find something to tickle your fancy at A Leap Of Faith.
My dominant wife wanted to know how it felt, so she allowed me to take her to the edge of an orgasm and then deny her for almost a week. I thought it was great, but she could not handle it.
Ooh, that does sound like a fun game too. Though, I’m not sure I could handle it from the other side.
That’s how it work, right? The moment they say ‘no’ the craving seems to be so much more intense. Indeed, it’s like you can think of nothing else, and that in itself is magic too 😉
~ Marie
A very special kind of magic. N x
Alice Cooper wrote “Welcome to my Nightmare!” 🤣😂🤣. But I’ll merely say, “Welcome!”
Hehe, Thank you… you’re so kind!
Orgasm control is a powerful thing 😍
Oh, I loved this so much!
Magic indeed 🙂
Thank you MrsK. A special kind of magic 😊
This was such an exciting process of how denial makes you feel. Thanks for such a hot share.
Thank you Posy. Denial gives my masochism an alternative outlet, one which I hadn’t realised until the last time he request it. I’m sure there will be more fevered ramblings as the denial time passes.
You know, it is so true: we know how to works, but somehow there is this weird magical spell our Dominants can have over us: to want something that we didn’t even think about just moments before, and to deny us that thing! And we love that dynamic. This was such an interesting read of your thoughts, loved it!
You’re right that we love it. If we didn’t we wouldn’t consent enthusiastically. It’s a definite piece of evidence that the most powerful sex organ is the brain. In our dynamic, it’s definitely his… mine has definitely melted this week 😉
oh the wickedness of denial and that want growing to a need just because we are told no. It becomes intense as you fight harder to not think about it, thinking about it all the more.
It’s causing much laughter this week. For the pair of us 😉
The more posts I read from you, the more I feel like… are you sure you’re not another me?! “As I type out yet another email communicating my discomfort I hope you are not annoyed to hear from me. That you see it for what it is. Me poking fun at myself: whiny, needy and brazen in my desires, yet focused on the task in hand. Or not in hand, as is currently the case.”
This has been me so many times!
The dream you woke up from sounds so good and is therefore rather torturous, I imagine, considering the no touching, ha!
On a side note, the way you write is a pleasure to read.
Hehe, they set tasks in full knowledge of how the tasks will affect us. And we follow the tasks because we like the effects. Symbiosis at it’s most torturous and amusing.
Thank you ML, I really appreciate you saying that.