Ah, the perils of being on the right side of the slash.
As I’ve mentioned before, part of Jalan’s and my bedtime ritual is each asking what the other needs. More often than not, the answer is along the lines of, “I have what I need,” or “More kissing before sleep,” but we still ask and give considered and honest answers.
Sunday night, with due consideration, I said that — while it was not an immediate need — the desire for more active orgasm control was getting to the point of need. We have done periods of different forms of denial and her control of my orgasms, or sometimes just teasing or ruined orgasms (one of my favorite is for her to use a numbing agent such as Anbesol under a condom, then sex – I still ejaculate, but barely feel it, if at all).
Tuesday night, I got what I wished for. By way of background, we have a set of temporary protocols for different purposes. Jalan puts a colored ring of wire on my collar to signify that I am under such a protocol for the duration. For example, red signifies her full and detailed control: To the best of my ability I do exactly what she directs and when, no more, no less. The protocol is in effect until she removes the ring.
Tuesday, while we were getting ready for bed, Jalan said that she had been debating what color to use to signify a protocol under which I would have no orgasms other than the ones she gave me. After a 20-minute hand-teasing session, she informed me that, even pending that decision, I was to consider this dictate in effect until further notice. No more masturbation. Well, not strictly true: I’m still under the order to masturbate exactly three times per week, just not allowed orgasm. I am to edge myself, instead. I also have the option of substituting a session of solo anal play for one or more of the three per week.
So, I got what I need — a period of control, of indefinite duration — by being denied what I want — orgasm. As I said at the beginning, the complexities of being on the right side of the D/s (O/p) slash.
She loves me. She really does.