~~~~~~~~

All my life I have pursued sex with abandon. Men and women, Dominant and Submissive. In relationship and not. There is a place where I have not yet gone, the place of turning my sexuality over to another person. Yes, I have submitted to Dominants, but they never really owned me. Their interest was more often in making me come as many times as possible, as if it were some kind of testament to their manhood. Deep down though, I wanted them to stop me instead, stop me from coming as many times as possible.

Dex, fortunately, cares little about testaments to his manhood, and has put me on a chastity program. He wants me to learn to control my sexuality, to give up this ultimate pleasure for a greater goal. He made this decision not out of the blue, but because he knew that I needed him to guide me through this dark cave.

Dex sees BDSM as a lifestyle, a paradigm with rules and regs. He once said to me: “BDSM is more than convention, more than protocol, there is a beauty and grace in what we are about, it is much more than simply calling me Sir. Before you can give me your complete self, you must develop enough self-control so to give up total control over your orgasm. It is because we are after a higher calling, a path less traveled.”

To me, though, it’s mostly about sex. Kinky sex to be sure, but still hovering in the vicinity of the orgasm. There’s also a spiritual dimension, of course, but that’s not the everyday draw, but rather a summer Sundae’s pleasure. We probably won’t be doing much in the mystical realm, but Dex is attempting to help me experience D/s independently from sex and orgasm. In exploring it this way, he teaches me awareness of my need for release, not just the orgasmic kind, but the emotional and spiritual kind as well.

I figure I’ve had plenty of kinky sex in my life and will likely have plenty more in the future, so I can live without it now. Had I wanted to, my vibrator would have provided ten orgasms a day; but I never bothered with that. Now, I want to know what will happen, how I will feel in the absence of the usual, the “pleasure as much as I want” usual. It’s not that Dex will never have sex with me or allow me to orgasm, but rather that they are not the main thrust of our spelunking.

He directs me to pleasure myself as much as I wish, but to always stop prior to orgasm. Only he will take me to that place, and it will always be in conjunction with pain. In reading his initial instructions about keeping chaste, I got so turned on that I went directly upstairs and got myself off. Pathetic. Part of the training is in guessing how close I am and being able to stop before I lose control. Yet I did it even knowing I would receive a hard caning as punishment. Maybe once I’ve actually been caned by Dex, I will take it more seriously, but not now. In a weird way I want the punishment, the reality of it, the memory of it, to keep me on the straight and narrow. I won’t believe it until I have that muscle memory.

Since the first failed attempt, I tried three more times, one successful where I was able to stop in time. Dex also had me ice down my pussy between rounds, an act which was profoundly humiliating as well as numbing. The ice burned, and made me feel ever so much more vulnerable.

Even now as I write, I periodically touch myself, trying, hoping I will be able to follow his orders. The very fact they exist makes my cunt quiver. Without orders to be chaste, I might go for weeks or even longer without needing sexual gratification, but having it taken away makes it something I long for, desperately. When I play with my vibrator these days, I do it in short stints. I lay on my stomach because I know it’s harder for me to come this way, and maybe that difficulty will prevent me from losing control. My clitoris is engorged by my own pleasure and the pain of stopping. I spread my legs wide and let the air cool me.

There is something which moves me in a very deep level about someone else controlling my orgasm. To have this intimate thing in his hands affects me to my core. I feel my submissive nature acutely, more so than in other submissive pursuits.

I want Dex to tease me, I want him to make me beg, not in mock fun, but for real. I want him to withhold my pleasure so I can truly know what it means to turn it over to him. I want him to make me turn that need over to him, into his hands, literally and figuratively. I want him to torture me, touch me never enough, make me feel the withdrawal as if it is the only thing in the universe. It is in the moment his hand pulls away that I most feel connected to him. I will cry for him; weep, and say anything, hoping that in the end, he is unmoved.

I want to humiliate myself begging him to touch me. I want to be reduced to promising him anything for another moment of his hand on me. I want to suffer pain for any small pleasure allowed. I want to be tied tightly, my legs wide apart so I cannot move, cannot prevent him from manipulating any part of me. I want the core of my being naked.

If there could be more, it would be this. I can think of nothing more humiliating than feeling barbie’s hand instead, inside me, touching my most intimate spaces. Dex knows that sexual contact with women is on my “only under duress” list, so this will qualify. What would it be like to have her hand on me, giving me the pleasure I desperately want but in a form so ultimately degrading? How helpless I would feel. How needy. How violated. How naked. There would be my primal self, stripped of everything.  

I am ashamed to want these things. I am ashamed even to tell Dex I want them, but if I cannot tell him, who could I tell? If I cannot trust him to take me there, who can I trust? In a way, I look forward to hurting myself, humiliating myself, frustrating myself by another bout with the vibrator which I’ve come to hate. In a cruel twist, I want to tease myself as much as possible, to keep myself aroused because it makes me acutely aware of his ownership. Dex will truly appreciate this gift, more than anyone could.

I am terrified he will take away my vibrator, and yet I desperately need him to do it. I need him to take it until I am used to the constant feeling of sexual hunger. When I see him next I will give it to him and implore him to take it away, because with it I am too weak.

If only I could wear a real chastity belt, one which would have a cold metal cover over my clitoris. I want to reach down and feel the cold metal, not my own soft wetness. To not be able to reach myself no matter what I do. I am jealous of men because the male chastity belts are simple and utilitarian. The women’s belts are wholly impractical, unhygienic, and worthless for anyone who works out. Instead, Dex is getting me a symbolic one, decorative only perhaps, but hopefully it’s weight will protect me from myself.

In this gift I give Dex, I am also giving myself a deeper gift, one I have desired for a long time. How will I manage it? Will I fail as often as I have done so far? Or will I find a strength in my commitment to Dex, away and aside from any threats of caning punishments. If I do not have this path to follow, the easy orgasm I could have anytime, where will I travel instead? What strange experiences are in my future because of this turn of the dark corridor? We have only to go forward, and I do, now slowly and each day with a prayer that I am able to take the next step forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Chastity Resources

Sensuous Sadie is the author of It's Not About the Whip: Love, Sex, and Spirituality in the BDSM Scene (http://www.trafford.com/robots/03-0551.html). She is the founder and leader (1999 - 2001) of Rose & Thorn , Vermont 's first BDSM group. Comments, compliments and complaints, as well as requests for reprinting can be addressed to her at SensuousSadie@aol.com  or visit her website at www.sensuoussadie.com. Sadie believes the universe is abundant, and that sharing information freely is part of this abundance, so she allows reprints of her writing in most venues.

Copyright 2003 Sadie Sez Publications