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.