Today, I’d like to give my thoughts on Orgasm Denial…
Orgasm denial is a theme that is not uncommon in BDSM, and surprisingly a lot of people actually practice it in a mild form in real life, although they probably wouldn’t term it that. When I first found out about it, my first thought was: “Why the hell would someone want to deny their lover pleasure? BDSM is sex isn’t it, and sex is all about orgasms!”
But of course, there is more to it than that, a lot more.
Orgasm denial comes in several forms that I know of, but there are probably more and there are probably terms I have not used that come into play. Further, different partners may employ different techniques in varying combinations at different times.
First is the mildest, most obvious form that a great many couples practice: saving yourself. This is simply about being with someone you love, and not only does it mean not having sex with anyone else but not masturbating either when alone, saving it all for that person. It keeps your love life special and intimate and bonds you tightly together.
This may sound “vanilla” to some of my readers, but don’t knock it: it’s actually used by a lot of couples into the BDSM lifestyle too – the only difference is that they tend to reinforce it with interesting devices or formalities.
This isn’t so much denying pleasure as delaying it. Typically the submissive in the relationship will be teased and stimulated but told not to climax without permission. This may take place as an ongoing low level of stimulation throughout the day, or it may be during sexual activity that the submissive is not permitted to reach climax until the dominant allows it. This might be because the dominant retains complete physical control, or they may instruct the submissive to keep themselves from orgasm. Of course permission to climax may not be given at all, but if it is the experience can be very much more intense.
Some couples use this in “vanilla” sex – indeed, if you think about it most men try and delay their own orgasms during sex as a matter of course. Other times both men and women use some control over their lover to tease them and drive them wild. In BDSM it tends to be more pronounced, but it’s the same principal.
Sometimes, one person will be completely denied sexual pleasure of a certain kind for a prolonged period. This is sometimes backed up with a chastity device (there are a lot of different types out there) to which the other partner has the key. This is very different from “saving yourself” as it is enforced in such a way as to make even the possibility of a quick bit of finger-work impossible. Further, the restrictions may apply only to one part of a partnership: the dominant may be free to play around while the submissive is chaste, or the submissive may have to serve the dominant sexually in other ways while getting no relief for themselves except the knowledge they have pleased their lover.
Make no mistake this is something the submissives themselves very much enjoy, and obviously it’s entered into voluntarily by both sides. Needless to say, when the submissive is finally permitted relief, it’s usually very powerful. That’s really the whole point of denial and delay, to make the eventual climax more spectacular.
This is often an aspect used in conjunction with some of the above methods. Obviously when you are saving yourself for the other person, that’s the condition. However Denial and Delay may come with more esoteric conditions attached to them in kinkier relationships. One couple I knew spent several months where she was only allowed to cum by masturbating herself while giving him a blowjob, and she could not make herself climax until after he had. This was a means to an end, as she didn’t like the taste of his cum much, and this “conditioned” her to look forward to it. Once or twice toward the end she actually came spontaneously when giving him head without masturbating beforehand, and now she always gets excited when giving oral.
I once met a guy who’s wife, when they were married, kept him locked in a chastity device all week. He was only allowed to climax when on all fours, wearing a French maid’s uniform, while she pegged him with a strap-on and masturbated him. He now gets a hard-on any time he thinks of wearing a dress.
I have met quite a few couples who use conditional control to get their lovers to agree to a spanking or other punishment, or who deliberately demand control they know their lover cannot maintain in order to justify a punishment – one that lover probably enjoys just as much, it has to be said.
Strange? Let he who thinks of himself as normal cast the first aspersion. In both these cases the submissive being conditioned very much enjoyed the experience, and came away with a reaction they wanted to have to it.
Conditional control is a very powerful tool, because it takes the enhanced pleasure of the delayed or denied climax and uses it to condition the person experiencing it to an act that the controller wants them to enjoy or acclimatize to.
In the end, orgasm denial (or control, whichever term you want to use) is about two things. The first is the control that one partner exerts over the other at a very intimate level. It’s a control of sexuality and you cannot get much more intimate than that, especially if you use that control to influence other behaviors. The second is that it is swapping quantity for quality; you restrict the number of climaxes one person gets, but the sex can get really mind-blowing when it comes – especially if it’s done right!
In my stories I’ve used various forms of denial a lot, and they are fairly common in the BDSM genre. In the Lydia’s Path series, Lydia finds herself locked in a chastity belt on more than one occasion. Many of my heroines find themselves teased with vibrators or other devices, as happened a lot in the School of Discipline series – there, orgasm denial was a fundamental tool of discipline in the school! Also in the Domination & Submission story The Tease, and it’s follow-on The Challenge.
Excerpt from The Challenge:
We make our way up an elevator to a luxury apartment even more exclusive than my Master’s. Several other couples are already disrobing in the vestibule, revealing fetish clothing that displays the body beneath to best effect – or, for some slaves, no clothing at all. I feel a little tingle of pride that Masters, Mistresses, and slaves all pause to look as Master Simon tugs the overcoat off me without warning to reveal my body. I keep my eyes down, though, as pride in my looks had once been my downfall.
Master clips a leash to my collar, a common thing at these parties. Wearing a leash makes it clear whose slave is whose. We enter the apartment itself, spacious and tastefully decorated, and our hosts greet us, Master Brian and his toy, Sally. Master Brian is a big man with curly dark hair who clearly works out a great deal, a fact revealed by his wearing just a pair of jeans to show off his broad, firmly defined chest.
Sally is nearly his opposite, being small and slim, delicate and waif-like with very long, dark hair. Tightly corseted, her mouth filled with a ring-gag, she has her arms bound behind her in a mono-glove and a tray of drinks strapped to her waist and neck. Other than the corset and a pair of heels she is naked, her small breasts and shaven pussy exposed to view.
“Glad you could make it, Simon.” Master Brian greets my owner with a hearty handshake.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Master Simon grins. “Will you be showing off your slut’s talents?”
“Oh, definitely, I have something good in mind. Help yourself to a drink, by the way.”
“Thanks. I look forward to it.” Master Simon scoops up two glasses and hands one to me. Some slaves have to do without at the whim of their owners, and some don’t. I am fortunate in that I don’t. I sip the champagne as we tour the party, which is already going well. We pass a display of sex toys, bondage implements and fetish clothing, and pause to look it over. With a wicked smirk on his face my Master leaves something on the stall as we leave, but I don’t have the time to see what.
Only moments after we move on the dildo inside me vibrates strongly, making me gasp and flush. I glance in surprise at my Master, but he is chatting animatedly with a Domme I’ve not met before, gesturing with both hands. He isn’t holding the remote control. Another long burst of vibration deep inside me sends helpless tingles up and down my spine. My breathing comes shallow and rapid. What’s going on?
I glance back at the toy-stall, and see someone I don’t know pick up a small remote control just like Master’s for this belt, and a third throb clamps my thighs tight together as it vibrates right against my g-spot. Shocked I realize what he has done.
Master has left the remote control to the vibrator in my belt it on the stall.
Some of the passing browsers are trying to figure out what it does. They can’t know that I am being pleasured every time they play with it, and most give it several tries before putting it back with a shrug.
“M-master,” I gasp, as he draws me on through the party. “The remote control, it’s,” I shudder as another burst of pleasure makes my sex twitch and my nipples feel as if they are straining against the unyielding cups of this bra.
“Yes dear?” he looks at me, his eyes sparkling. “Let me see.” He pats his pockets theatrically. “Oh dear, I seem to have mislaid it,” he smirks. “Never mind, I’m sure no harm will come to it.”
I can’t answer him. I’m too busy breathing as hard as my constricting outfit will allow and trying not to go cross-eyed. The completely random pulses of vibration have me breaking out in a sweat, and struggling to stay on my feet. I can’t cum from them, it’d be a relief if I could, but they are constantly distracting me, edging me, and reminding me of my helpless state.
Master Simon continues his tour with me in tow, apparently unconcerned by the fact that people unknown to both of us are, in effect, playing with my pussy. If anyone notices my sudden odd expressions or muffled whimpers and mewls, they say nothing.
One large room of the apartment is outfitted as a dungeon with a black-tiled floor, black walls and ceiling, and almost crammed full of BDSM gear. There are stocks, St. Andrew’s crosses, cages, restraints I can’t put a name to, chains, restraining points on the walls, and even some winches fitted to the ceiling. Also there are racks of tools and restraints such as fetters, manacles, spreaders, crops, canes, whips, floggers and other items.
A number of scenes are unfolding there, and Master pauses to watch a girl getting electric shocks to her most sensitive areas, then a Dominatrix punishing her male slave. The latter is naked and hanging upside-down from a leg spreader winched up high. His arms are bound tightly behind him. His Mistress whirls a flogger with expert precision over his buttocks and groin. In spite of – perhaps because of – the painful strikes to his cock and balls, he is sporting a huge erection.
The sight makes me shiver, even though the suspended man begs for more every time his Mistress pauses, and I look away. I am glad that my Master doesn’t favor such methods. Across the room, several Doms and their slaves take turns playing with a helpless, hooded blond girl, teasing and exploring her as she moans and squirms, unable to see or likely even hear her lovers. Even from here I can smell her sweet arousal.
Master tugs my leash and we move on.
Dominant Displays: The Challenge
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/otd3ckf
Dominance & Submission: The Tease
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/osq4qdr
School of Discipline: The Collection
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/npnfwvf