Do winners win?

As we waited for our movie last week, we hopped into the abandoned arcade area of the theater. Being a weeknight, there were no gaggles of kids running from claw to shooter to racer to basketball throw. Just two adults standing at the air hockey table.

Finally acquiring the right amount of tokens for the game, Madame and I set out to play. I handily won the first game, each of us our own worst enemy scoring on ourselves. The score was something like 7-5. And the second game, before anyone scored I offered a bet.

“Well, if I win, I get… ” She looked at me. “I get… ”

“I win no matter what, you know, boy”

“Yes, I know… but if I were to win this game… I’d like.” I paused as she scored on me. Down 1 – 0. “I’d like a ruined orgasm”

She never tacitly agreed to the bet and, well, there was nothing on the line for if I lost, but that was okay too. We came to the end of the game and the timer ended with the score 4 – 3 in my favor, but she put the puck in – still – the timer was done – the score didn’t register.


The next morning, we woke, she very happy with the previous night as I had shown her quite a good time. She was, I think, pleasantly surprised with how good the movie was and how much fun we both had. She had me fuck her, used me well, I was able to get into some good fucking without worrying about cumming, though she started whispering things to me which put me so close to the edge. I had to stop a few times. Eventually, she tired of this game and demanded “Off!”

I lay on the bed as we cuddled and she stroked my cock lazily.

“So, tell me about this thing we bet on last night?”

“Ruined orgasm?”

“Yes, that.”

“Well, it’s basically just when you run the boy up to the edge, let his cum dribble out over the edge and it’s kind of like an orgasm, but without all the pleasure for the man. The good part is that, supposedly, you can just do that and he’s ready to go again without worrying about him cumming so soon. It’s supposed to take the edge completely off.”

She soon had me at that edge and let go. I had told her “NO! STOP! STOP STOP STOP” but she kept going, releasing me before I started spilling. It was a full ejaculate measure, for sure, but there was none of the pleasure of a full on orgasm. Okay, that’s not true, there was lots of pleasure, but it was a different pleasure.

My honest critique is that it did not keep me on edge like I expected. My cock wilted after I spilled. That’s not supposed to happen with this. My desire waned a little as well. Now, I’m not saying that it wasn’t a ruined orgasm, it certainly was, but perhaps we need to do one of two things. One, she needs to stop sooner – really let it dribble. Two, she needs to not be so fucking sexy while she’s doing it. It really is a turn on. :)

 

Perhaps ruined orgasms won’t work for me/us. Perhaps when you’re kept in denial so long, even a ruined orgasm wilts the libido a little. I can’t be sure, but I’m more than willing to continue practicing. Any thoughts on how we might make it better?

The morning (fiction)

We have been strained lately but not in a bad way. Sometimes, life rears its head in the face of your kinky sexy world and just prevents that which you were used to. Her world with her family was upside down and inside out. And while I was there to support her, I made our bed, made the house cozy, made sure coffee was available to all in the morning, it was still not our finest… no wait… it was not our most sexual hour. But it could be our finest. Because sexuality is not all we are about. We are a couple. We are a partnership. And we are a female led relationship. And I was happy to hold her in bed and wake up together the next morning.

And the next morning she woke before me, as usual. She showered, dried her hair, came to the bedroom, went out again. When she came back again my alarm had gone off once, I hit snooze, I was lazy. She came back again. By this time, I had started my own little wake up method – stroking my cock. I usually woke this way. Stroking my cock to hardness, snoozing, waking, stroking, repeat.

She came in during one of the snoozes and sat on the side of the bed. She pulled back the covers.

“Touch it again.”

I touched it. I stroked it.

“You’ve been neglected.”

I stroked.

“You miss my pussy?”

I stroked.

“Pump your cock for me. I know I haven’t been as attentive as I normally have, but I see that. I recognize it. Pump that cock for me.”

“Yes, Ma’aam”

“So hard. Look at those balls. So full”

I pumped my cock harder.

“You’ve been such a good boy. A good good boy.”

I stroked. She smiles. Her hand touched my leg.

“I want to watch you cum.  Cum for me, pup.”

“May I?” I asked desperately.

“Yes, cum for me. Do it for me.”

I pumped and stroked hard, influenced by her permission. Getting myself closer I looked up at her with desperation. She nodded at me. “Cum” she whispered loudly.

I closed my eyes, threw my head back, arched my hips and got ready to blow my load. I groaned and grunted and pumped harder, my cum spurted from my cock…

Her hand grabbed mine and pulled it away from my cock, my cock pulsed, it spilled, it spurted, but my hand didn’t stroke it, it just spilled its cum. This was the first time she did this and I realized it, she ruined this orgasm.

“HANDS DOWN!” I put them under my ass.

I thrust my hips up in frustration, but I put my hands under my ass as she told me to. The cum just dribbled from my cock now, spilling out on my stomach. I groaned in frustration. She smiled down at me.

“Pump your hips… do it. Do it… oh that cum is beautiful.”

I whimpered as my cock relaxed, let itself soften, the tip of my cock now dipping into the pool of cum on my belly.

“Good. Good boy. Well done.”

She stood up and looked down at me from the side of the bed. “Clean it all up, with your hand, just clean it all.”

She left the room as I cleaned it up from my hand, then came back soon and wiped my down with a warm washcloth.

“So that was a ruined orgasm, huh?”

“I think so, Ma’am”.

“That was pretty fucking hot.” she smiled. “You’re still horny?”

“A little. I could do it again.”

She laughed. “I thought they were supposed to leave you all the way horny!”

“That first spurt was pretty good. Not quite ruined.”

“I’ll make note of that boy.”

“I’m sure you will Ma’am.”

“Get up boy, time to start your day.”

“Yes, Ma’am”

(This was fiction based on possible real things)

What about that?

“So, what are your feeling on that? Do you want to? What about that?”

That’s what she asked this week while we were packing for camp. Our foray into the shared lives of 1000 kinky people and I haven’t come for over 100 days and this is what she asks me.

And I am not entirely sure I can do justice to my reply. It was a weak reply, I think, because I haven’t really have so much I could say, but time wasn’t on our side when she asked. And so, I decided I’d write about it. What is it? This question:

“Do you want to cum?”

Yes, Ma’am, I do. I don’t want to be in that fantasy world of “You’ll never come again! Mwahahahahahaahaha!” fantasy femdom. Nope. No thanks.

“Do you want to cum at camp?”

Well, okay, that’s different. Want? Erm, maybe.

“Maybe?”

So, here’s the thing. You’ve kept me from cumming for over three months. We’re certainly beyond casual denial. And here’s the biggest thing about that. I really do think that you really do enjoy denying me. When I practically shout out “STOP!” as you’re teasing me, you smile. You smirk. And then 20 seconds later you’re stroking your cock again and making me scream “STOP!” again. And you know that I don’t fake it. When I scream stop I mean it and you do. And that’s fortunate. Because…

I am perfectly fine with you owning my cumming. I leak, because, well, biology and we’re not going to stop having sex altogether. That’s not going to happen. And yet, you like teasing and tormenting me and I’m happy you like that. It fits us both well. I like the occasional tantric style orgasms I get. Thanks for those. They’re really amazing. Thanks for letting me. I don’t think you want to deny me pleasure – you just want to take away this whole “cumming” part of it.

I’m at the point in my mind where I can say “three months? Okay, well, you own it, it’s yours…” and really, it is. I’ve accepted that it’s yours and I want it to be yours. Please keep hold of it. Use it when you want to. Or don’t. It’s yours. But I just can’t be ignored – so there’s THAT on you. Denial by ignoring me won’t fly.

And then, also, there’s the idea of my weighing less than 200# by camp. I called it “starts with 1” and it was a goal, but I can’t imagine I’ll get there. After all, we leave Saturday and the Wednesday weigh in was still a few pounds shy of the goal. I ‘m not sure that I can make another 3.5 pounds before camp starts. Anyone that reads this might even suggest that were I to make that, it would be an unhealthy weight loss. I’d agree there’s a hazard there.

If we played the weight goal story line, you’d have a great reason to deny me at camp. “Oh, he’s a good boy, but he failed his goal, so we’re just going to tease him all week. He’ll go home with a tan, a locked cock and still his balls full of cum… but he missed the goal… ” I can play that one.

And then there’s the idea of the “Well, almost…” and I’m not sure Chloe knows of this part of chastity and denial fantasy land of mine. But the idea of a ruined orgasm isn’t something I’m sure she’s aware of. And I could easily see her finding out in detail, talking to people at camp and getting me well worked up and giving me an epic ruined orgasm. “Well, I hear that’s a ruined orgasm, did I do it right? ” she might smile. And I know she would. And I’d still be frustrated as all hell.

And then there’s the idea of actually joining with her, perhaps with the toy in our family doing something with us. But I’d be in her, we’d be fucking, and she’d let me cum. Finally, after over 100 days, she would finally say “yes” and I’d cum. And it’d be a long loud cum with lots of mess. And she’d make me (or me and her toy?) clean up after myself. But I want myself to spill without having to clean it up after – in whatever way she might make it happen.

But….

The bottom line on all of this is that yes, she owns my orgasms and ejaculations and I’m 100% okay with how she wants them to work out. And I would not think I would have a bad camp if I didn’t cum. Cumming is so very beyond where I’ve gone and where I am. It’s a beautiful and very fun part of our sex life, but it’s certainly not the end all be all of male sexuality. No, I’m very far past that belief by now.

I see both Chloe and I growing in our roles in this lifestyle. She coming more comfortable with her dominant self and I in my submissive self. And we’ve worked out good roles between us. And it seems to be working. I know that being the dominant in a relationship is not without it’s efforts. I don’t like to pressure her for certain things. And I know she respects my opinion, but I think we’ve both gotten into a level of our FLR that my opinion on ejaculating no longer matters. If I’m to be owned, this is one part of my life, like so many, where she should feel free to own it, dictate it, and decide whether it happens or not.

Madame, I thank you for asking me what I think about this. But you’ve kept me denied for this long and it is absolutely your call on whether or not I ejaculate. What I want out of our camp experience is fun and joy and beautiful naked time and fucking. And some play with our toybags too. But I want pleasure for all of us involved. And however you take that pleasure, well, I’ll be there to help in any way I can.