Orgasm Denial? Oh, Pooh!

I was one of those fortunate children who learned to read at a young age. Some relative bought me a set of books that my parents never read to me, so I was probably in first or second grade before I could tackle them on my own. Naturally, those books were lost or given away over the years, but when my daughter was born, I sought out another set.

Unfortunately, by that time the books had become a D*sneyfied franchise, and most of the books available were the heavily edited ones that, not surprisingly, lost the spirit of the originals. I did find, however, hard-cover version of A.A. Milne’s famous Winnie-the-Pooh stories, and read them to my daughter. Of course, I also read her the non-D*sneyfied versions of other stories, too: Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book, Lewis Carol’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, etc. Yes, I spent a good part of her young life with a raspy throat, but I know she appreciates it.

Anyway, in moving some books from one side of the house to the other — a practice that happens more often that you’d imagine, especially when Mrs. Edge gets into one of her household organizing moods — I chanced across the old Pooh volume, and couldn’t help but skim through a few stories. In the second book, The House at Pooh Corner, toward the middling end of the tales, we run across a Particularly Interesting Philosophy espoused by our favorite bear.

“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best — ” and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a Very Good Thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.

– AA Milne “The House at Pooh Corner”

When I read that , you could have knocked me off the chair with Eeyore’s tail. “[T]here was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were,” is exactly the point I was trying to make in my post from last week: I enjoy my orgasms, but there is a point just before the orgasm that — to me — is actually better than the release itself. That point — the slight, but noticeable plateau just before the waves of release — is the overwhelming sensation to which I’m drawn. It’s physical, mental, and emotional, and while it’s happening, I want it to keep happening.

I suspect that many men who have discovered this feel the same way. The problem is that some of them — and I have to count myself here, at least sometimes — can actually forget how pleasant the orgasm actually can be. Or sometimes the desire to push for that one more day! over-rides not merely the desire for the orgasm, but the commitment to one’s partner.

Thumper is not the only one who has reacted with dismay or disappointment at being asked to remove their device, and to have an orgasm; I’ve seen this on various web boards and forums over the past few years. Frankly, I’ve even done this myself. It was easy to fall into, especially in those early days when we just discovered the heady feelings of power exchange. Each time that Mrs. Edge suggested we go for some period of time, I would egg her on to make it a little longer. There’s a perverse pleasure in breaking a record, in going for that next “personal best.” Pumping iron, lap times at the track, shooting hoops, days without coming. Just one more for the record books.

There is hope, though. Eventually one figures out that breaking a record is no longer the important thing. Likewise, while the desire to ride the edge of arousal for weeks at a time is compelling and addictive, at some point you have to bring a little sanity back into the relationship. You eventually learn that the denial is heady — but it helps to gain some perspective by reminding yourself what you’re being denied from.

So guys? Try to remember that when your partner wants you to orgasm (and especially if she wants to participate), try to remember that it’s not a punishment, nor is she trying to derail your attempt at the Chastity Olympics. Really. It’s just that she places more emphasis on the moment just after you start eating the honey. Just go with it, okay?

Because sometimes eating the honey can be a Very Good Thing, indeed.,

Rat in a Cage

I’ve been reading Thumper, who recently had a rant major complaint whinge some strong opinions on the fact that he spent 10 days in enforced chastity, at the end of which, his wife, Belle, wanted him to have an orgasm. He wasn’t happy about that.

I know, I know — those of you not into the Orgasm Control/Denial thing are saying “What? He went a week and a half without coming, and he wanted to keep going? That’s whack, yo!” And yes, it does seem that way, until you give this some thought.

First of all, there’s the “personal best” factor involved. When you do something for a long time, you want to keep doing it, or else you feel like you’ve wasted yoru efforts not doing it well. Mrs. Edge and I have been here. You try it for a couple of weeks. Then the next time you think “Well, maybe a month or so.” The next time, after a month you’re thinking that two, or three months is reachable. You see where this is going, right? If neither of you is sane, the next thing you know you haven’t come for six, nine, maybe twelve months. And believe me, when you go for several months, the next time that you’re locked up, you often feel like you have to go just a little bit longer. This could be just one of those competitive guy things, although Mrs. Edge seems to urge me on pretty frequently.

My point is that there are different reasons for wanting to continue being denied, as paradoxical as it sounds. And let’s not forget the simple pleasure of not having pleasure.

Wait, what?

As someone in a relationship in which the both of us enjoy the power exchange of Orgasm Control, I can tell you that once you get past the point of thinking that you are missing out on your orgasms (admittedly, this takes some time to learn), you get into a stage in which you are constantly living on the edge of frustrated arousal that becomes not simply pleasant, but an almost over-whelming feeling of expectation and anticipation.

It’s 24 hours of feeling like you’re just about to unwrap a gift.

It’s the moment between seeing the rockets being lit, and seeing the huge fireworks explosion in the sky.

It’s being the in the roller coaster just three seconds before it hits the top and plummets down the track.

It’s being a child going to bed on Christmas eve.

The constant anticipation can be heady and dizzying and wonderful and very emotional, and all at the same time.

Naturally, there’s a down side.

Anybody with a couple of college psychology classes under their belt probably remembers reading about those experiments in which they had rats pressing levers to reward themselves with food after learning a new trick. Eventually, somebody figured out how to implant tiny electrodes in their brains, so pressing on the levers stimulated certain pleasure centers.

Must have saved a lot on food, because in some experiments, the rats were reported to have crawled into a corner to press the stimulant lever until they collapsed from exhaustion. As it happens, new studies have shown that the “pleasure” the rats were getting was not specifically sexual; rather, it seems to be rooted in the pleasure we get from hunting, seeking, or finding. In other words, those rats were fixated on — some might say addicted to — the thrill of the chase, or the excitement of anticipation.

This makes sense in a lot of ways. Every hear any little children say that they wish it could be the day after Christmas all year long?

Now, there’s no way that I’m going to say that orgasms are not pleasurable — mine certainly are. I’m just saying that those of us who have discovered the thrill of anticipation and the inherent pleasure of arousal need to learn how to take a step back from those levers once in a while, if only to remember how to enjoy what you have, instead of what you are hoping to get.

Coming Together: 2 – The morning after

(Mrs. Edge was on a business trip for about four weeks in July. This series details some of what transpired upon her return. Part 1 is here.)

A combination of jet lag, time zone differences, late nights, a long drive, and a good set of room-darkening window shades allowed me to get a few extra hours of sleep. You’d think that after the night before I’d have had a hard time sleeping, but orgasm denial doesn’t always work like that. I mean, no question that I was sexually aroused when I woke up, but I was also able to enjoy the feel of my wife’s body against mine in a purely sensual way. I carefully got up to pee and then snuggled back into bed, where I softly caressed and nuzzled her for a few minutes. She woke up a short while later, and made her way sleepily to the bathroom. She then crawled back into bed and we exchanged morning pleasantries.

“How did you sleep?” she asked me.

In the past, after a night of chastity sex, I’d often be awake for hours in a mixture of arousal, frustration, and some kind of perverse sense of satisfaction at having pleased her so well. But not last night.

“Oh, I was fine. I read for maybe ten minutes and then held you until I fell asleep,” I told her. “I think I held you most of the night.”

She nodded and kissed me. “Yes, it was very nice. I haven’t been held all month.”

Continue reading

HNT: Bite Me

Mrs. Edge is happy to be home. Normally a bit sedate in the bedroom, she returned from Bangalore feeling much more frisky than I’ve seen her in years. Looks like I’ll have to figure out how to get her company to send her away more often!

Okay, maybe a little bruise isn't all that exciting to some of you, but it's pretty exciting at the Edge of Vanilla Labs.

The bite marks are a few days old, but I’ve been enjoying the view every day.

Coming Together: 1 – Reunion

(Mrs. Edge was on a business trip for about four weeks in July. This series details some of what transpired upon her return.)

“I wasn’t planning to let you out,” she said. “I hope you weren’t expecting it.”

“I… I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that,” I replied. “I, umm… I’m not sure I’m ready to come out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure. It’s like I’m settling into some kind of state of arousal, and it’s been good. Really good.” I stared down at her, feeling the warmth of her hips against mine. “I mean, it’s completely up to you, of course.”

She nodded.

“It’s just that I feel like I’m into some kind of good place right now, and I was sort of hoping that you wouldn’t let me out right away.”

She stared at me for a few moments and smiled. “When I said I wasn’t going to let you out,” she replied, “I was talking about this week, and probably next week, too.”

We both moaned softly as we kissed.

Continue reading

HNT: Worn out

Mrs. Edge has been back for a few days, and we needed to make up for some lost time. Fortunately I’ve been taking very good care of myself — exercising, eating right, plenty of fresh air, that kind of thing. Even so, I need to recharge the batteries once in a while.

Full moon?

I’m taking a little nap. It’s warm in here, so I removed the bed sheet. Hope you don’t mind.