[Yasna]

4:44 am? Of course. I've been waking up between 4:40 am and 4:50 am at the latest for the last two or three weeks. Every. single. night. Sometimes I'm able to doze off a bit, but usually I'm not. Today I have to get up at 7 o'clock. I hate these long sleepless hours. I'm still dead tired. And I love these long quite sleepless hours. They are perfect to listen into yourself and let your mind wander. Sometimes it wanders to strange places.

Horny? Of course. I smile puffy eyed into the dawn. Today my pussy is not buzzing though, it "just" feels hot and heavy and tense. Oh, "just" that. I smile again. It might be not as intense as the buzzing, but it's not much easier to bear. With the buzzing there is at least something to focus on, like the pendulum of a hypnotist. Today it's just a continuous urge, steady, but no less demanding. I rub my feet together; even if I would very much prefer to rub somewhere else, I need to rub something.

My panties are soaked again. Does my pussy never get tired of cranking out superfluous grool? Quite the contrary, it has been particularly diligent. I would like to take off my panties, let some fresh air into the humidity between my legs, but I don't want to spoil the bedclothes. I don't only want to take off my panties; I want to stuff them into this affluent fountain, as deep as it gets, to sponge up all my juices. I wonder how long it would take before one could wring out a drop or two. The perfect essence of desire. Having something stuffed up my pussy – how does this feel again? It seems so long ago. The finger two days ago is already a faint memory, and before that … Oh, god! Usually I don't care too much about penetration and prefer stimulation of the clit, but today I crave my pussy to be filled. Not filled, stretched. Overstretched. I want to get my big thick dildo and push it in, inch by inch, and feel my pussy unclench, unbending and tensioning at the same time. I want to enjoy the feeling of being filled out. And afterwards, well, a good fuck would be great, deep and hard. My pussy agrees and finally starts buzzing gently. Not today though, but postponed is not abandoned.

I've been glad too early. Yes, I've done forty days of denial and there are "only" ten days left. But ten days are long. Longer than most of my attempts of self-denial ever lasted. I sigh. I turn on my side and stuff the bedspread between my legs. I usually do this because I find it the most comfortable position. But now one of my ass cheeks remains uncovered. It's bare. This side of the panties got stuck in the crack. I can feel the colder air pass by it. The skin feels tense. I would really like to give it a slap, just to release some of the tension. I can imagine the sound breaking the silence of this early morning. A single hard slap, with all strength. And probably another one. And maybe some more. I'm mulling over the question whether I should buy a spanking machine as a reward for following through with my denial experiment. I would be great if I hadn't to rely on my willpower to deliver powerful strokes. But these machines are quite expensive and there are so many other things I'd like to try too … As I fantasize about a spanking of my back (which I can't reach really well on my own) my eyes fall onto my erect nipples sticking out under my top. They deserve a good spanking too. They are so cocky, peeking out on top of their tiny hills. I want to squeeze them so badly. I breathe in deeply and close my eyes. Ten days.

I turn on my back and tuck up one leg. My heel touches the inside of my upper thigh and a shiver flashes through my body. Oh, my goodness!, a single accidental touch, not even that close to my crotch, and I cringe. The skin on my heel feels a bit rough, compared to the tender skin it touches. I'm tempted to move my foot a little, just to get this little bit of stimulation again. But the disadvantage of self-denial is that I can't sneak anything past myself. I grab my mobile for my morning visit to the JuNO denial tumblr, and I start to read a story. It's a great story about a girl fantasizing about being hypnotized to mindlessly masturbate her life away. But it describes "endless sessions of self-pleasure" and "getting off over and over again". I'll keep this story for later. I've just experienced how easy I'm carried away by stuff like this. Indeed, my pussy turned the buzzing from fly mode to wasp mode.

I'm seriously sleep deprived. I wonder again whether denial interferes with hormones that regulate the sleep pattern. I try to google, but at first glance I find only forums with superficial knowledge. A more sober looking site claims orgasm denial doesn't affect hormone levels at all. How can this be true? Our hunger and our sleep and our sex drive are influenced by hormones and denial doesn't change them? I feel like a different person to some degree. After altering someone's diet gene expression changes within thirty days! After forty days of orgasm denial there must be significant alterations in your body. I start humming "Put your pussy on a diet, then it's gonna start a riot." Um, not enough syllables. "Put your pussy on a diet, then drippy cunt will start a riot." Better. I laugh audibly. Apparently my brain is melting.

Most of the little serious research about the consequences of long-term denial apparently has been done with regard to male chastity and testosterone levels. Another gender gap. I think we need more research on this topic. I would volunteer as a guinea pig for this. Inpatient denial research. And, oops!, my mind is off to another daydream. I picture myself gagged and naked except for a straitjacket. A straitjacket bolero style, leaving the breasts exposed, and with additional straps around the thighs. I sit on the floor, helpless, the pussy exposed, vulnerable, but ultimately untouchable. I might be a bit insane already. But after a couple of days of this I would be certifiable. So they'd have to keep me indefinitely. Of course at that point they would add some teasing to the mix. Who could pass on such an opportunity to collect more valuable data? I get lost in fantasies of being strapped onto a gynaecic chair and teased mercilessly, with unrelenting austerity. My pussy turns from wasp mode to bumblebee hysteria. I smile. It's almost 7 o'clock. What a great morning.