Explorations into denial, pain, and humiliation

[Yasna]

Why this blog?

I've been fascinated by different aspects of BDSM – pain, bondage, humiliation – for as long as I can remember. But lately I'm very much interested in denial. Especially the idea of permanent or at least long-term and open-ended denial terrifies me and arouses me extremely at the same time. However, what usually happens is: I read through a denial blog or indulge in a denial fantasy … And I masturbate. And I cum. A lot. I have been able to deny myself orgasms for several weeks. I thoroughly enjoyed how it made me feel: more sensual, my libido in the "red" range most of the time. Nevertheless I fell off the waggon every time. I relished the orgasms, but I felt stale and unsatisfied afterwards. I want to find a way to make denial sustainable for me.

I don't need to have the answer right now. I don't need to say "I'll never cum again" and be disappointed when I fail after a few weeks. I want to give it time and I want to experiment. From a logical standpoint no touching at all in a sexual manner seems to be the most reasonable approach to me. It's not that I think I don't deserve pleasure. I don't want to need it. This might lead to loss of interest though. But the whole point of my experiments is to enhance my sexuality, not to numb it. Nevertheless, no touching in a sexual way is my jumping-off point. I'm on my fifth day of this "no touch"-regimen now and so far I feel a slightly heightened arousal level. But I also had some pretty busy and stressful days so the jury is still out.

This blog is intended as one way of keeping my interest high. I love to write generally and especially about my sexual experiments. Unfortunately I'm not very consistent with it, and I hope this blog helps me to take the time to put my thoughts and feelings down more regularly.

And if it turns out that this is not enough to keep me interested and satisfied there are several strategies I'd like to explore: add pain and humiliation, which always make me horny; work my way up to a pleasurable anal experience (I'm currently almost an anal virgin); try vaginal masturbation only and avoid any stimulation of the clit (I doubt I can cum without any clitoral stimulation); test out edging at different frequencies; maybe incorporate very occasional ruined orgasms. So much to try!

Needless to say, I'm happy about everybody who's interested in my journey too. I hope we have a good time here!

[I have written this a couple of days ago for my new tumblr, but I'm not sure if I'll continue posting about my experiences there. It feels more homely here. And I can incorporate reports about dares more easily. Maybe I'll keep both for a while …]

[Yasna]

Here's my first week of "no touch"-denial: five days of smooth sailing, one day of "not too bad", and one day of desperation. Do you want to know more? Maybe I should clarify first what I mean by "strict 'no touch'": no intentional touching of any kind in a sexual manner. None at all. Not the clit, not the pussy, not the ass, not the breasts, no humping, nothing. I think of it as a kind of sexual pleasure elimination diet: I'll start with absolutely nothing, and might slowly add back if I lose interest. (Or maybe not so slowly … ) I'm looking for my arousal baseline. I'm a nerdy girl.

I have some experience with self-imposed orgasm denial. The longest time I've gone without release was about four weeks. Not very impressive. No? Maybe it's a bit impressive when you know that I really enjoy to cum, I usually orgasm a lot. Even more than that when I have my kinky phase, typically around my period. A nice masturbation session is my favourite method of stress relieve. The funny thing is: I think I really enjoy more not to cum. I guess this is an extension of my submissive nature. I don't completely understand it (yet?). I feel more attuned to myself – and of course more aroused – when I deny myself pleasure. Sure, that's paradoxical, because I receive pleasure from being attuned to myself. And from being aroused. And deliciously desperate. And dripping.

I didn't plan on this new denial adventure. I had a very busy week, got up early, worked or studied all day, came home late and exhausted, got straight into bed, and fell asleep like a stone. After three days I realized I hadn't touch myself at all. Too exhausted to masturbate – that's a good strategy to start denial! And being on a strict "no touch" regimen, but you don't know it yet makes it easy to adapt. As I wanted to make another attempt on a longer period without release, I decided to take the bull by the horns. The next two days were easy too: I was enthusiastic and still busy and still tired. Tuckered out actually. In my only spare time I did fifty minutes of cornertime (see my report here).

But then came the long Whit weekend. I had no obligations at all on Sunday. But it was less difficult than I expected. Yes, I was horny, and yes, I would have masturbated under different circumstances, but it was bearable. I spent the morning in bed, reading erotic stories, mostly of women masturbating. When I read an old-fashioned book I find it more natural to hold onto it with both hands, making it easier not to let one hand slip under the cover … I felt my pussy tingling, and I really enjoyed it. Like when you're not particularly hungry, but you have the opportunity to taste a rare delicacy. Hmm! I was almost a bit disappointed that it went so smoothly. But things were about to change.

Pentecost Monday is a public holiday here. I had to wait tables in the afternoon and evening. Another morning to spend in bed: Hooray! Or so I thought. Because I woke up early. Very early. With a hot knot between my legs. As if my pussy had finally realized it was getting serious. It was so tempting to undo the knot … I leaned back, folded my hands behind my head, and breathed deeply. It didn't help. I read another story. Just made it worse. The knot became steamy, loose ends were tingling the inside of my pussy. Breathing deeply again. I needed some distraction or I would cave in. Luckily I had been dared to an ass spanking the day before. So I got my wooden spoon, stripped out of my pyjama, went doggy on my bed, and got cracking. I flinched at the first stroke, because I had not only used all my strength, but the blow seemed so loud on this quiet morning. The spanking felt nice, more arousing and distracting at the same time. I tried to make the most of every single stroke. And I did: when I crawled back into bed I had two hot areas to focus on. My butt was glowing red, but my pussy was really frustrated that the stupid ass has gotten all of the attention. I was happy when I finally had to get up to get ready for work.

It was a nice sunny day and as the commute is not long, I decided to go to work on my bike. I quickly discovered two things: First, it's a peculiar experience to ride a bike with a freshly spanked ass. Second, it's an even more peculiar experience to ride a bike with a needy, neglected, ill-humoured cunt. I was rocking back and forth on the saddle to avoid stimulation. "Oh my," I thought, "you're such a slut! You're getting horny just from riding a bike!" I was wet when I arrived at the restaurant. The whole time I was thinking about the ride back. After a couple of hours of anticipation it felt even better. I'm wondering how long I would have to deny myself before I could cum just from riding a bike. I hope I'll never find out. After I've taken a shower there was that knot again, sending out enticing threads in all directions. But no, I was hell-bent to keep it tight. And finally my pussy gave up.

The next week will be very busy too. I'm almost thankful for that. But there will be a weekend again …

[Yasna]

It's day 10 of my "no touch at all" denial experiment and I can say I'm definitely beyond the easiness of the first days. Since touching my sexually responsive regions is off limits they seem to expand in an attempt to get at least some attention. My nipples are erect and sensitive most of the time. When fabric brushes against them they send shivers through my body. Even rubbing my feet together excites me "sexually" right now. But that's one of the things I really love about denying myself release: when my sexuality slowly invades every single fibre of my body; when everyday occurrences lose their banality and are immersed in the heated atmosphere of lustfulness. Yesterday and today the pure act of stripping naked to take a shower got me aroused. "Really?," I thought, annoyed and pleased at the same time, "I just want to get ready for my day here." The lines between touching for washing and for sexual pleasure started to blur. I might have to resort to cold showers soon. Brrr! The day before yesterday I was waiting unsuspectingly in line, when suddenly my pussy twitched. A couple of hours later the same happened on the bus and subsequently in the library. Apart from some slight worries that people might apprehend what's going on I find these instances quite enjoyable and easy to deal with. Who would masturbate in public even if the desire felt almost overwhelming, right? Alone at home things are different though.

Yesterday morning I spent quite some time reading through this detailed, entertaining, and inspiring denial journal. I got some really neat ideas of things I'd like to try – numbing cream on the clit, a clit pump. But the wonderful read made me extremely aroused and I felt my panties getting soaked. Some passages resonated deeply with me and made my clit throb. Not letting my hand slip into my jeans became a serious challenge to my self-discipline. "Just a little touch. Please? Just a slight one. Not long. Just a little. I'll stay far away from the edge, I promise. Just a little touch after ten days of negligence? Please?" I had to remind myself stringently, that this was not what I wanted right now. Well, that's not entirely true: of course I wanted to touch. Badly. Really badly. If it had been a democratic decision between my leaking cunt, my endorphin flooded brain and "me" (whatever else of "me" would be left in this scenario) "I" probably would have lost. But somehow "I" held things together. I desperately wanted to touch myself. But there was something else I wanted even more: to preserve exactly this heightened level of arousal and exhilarating frustration. At the moment that's enough to keep control.

But concentrating on my studies was difficult. Even though I expected another struggle I wanted to do something at least remotely sexual. Thus I decided to repack my toys. The old box hadn't been big enough for a while and I had gotten something new in the mail (a muzzle gag with integrated ball; I'm looking forward to try it out!). So I laid out my dildos, my gags, my clamps, my bondage gear, and my plugs. Quite a collection and some fond memories! But when I reached for my rabbit vibrator I gasped for air. How many blissful orgasms I had with this wonderful device! How good would it feel to just lay back, stuff it in, set it on high, and dissolve in waves of pleasure? Again there was a short moment when I nearly surrendered to my horniness. My pussy was buzzing, doing its best to lead me astray, but again of no avail. It feels good to win these small victories over myself.

However, there is one aspect of my denial that's really unpleasant: I don't sleep well at all. I didn't get more than two or three hours of sleep in the last nights. Once or twice I woke up from horniness, maybe from a dream? But most of the time I've just woken up in the middle of the night, even though I was still dead tired. And I couldn't get back to sleep for hours. I've observed the same the last times I denied myself orgasms for a longer time. I'm wondering whether the change in hormones interferes with the ability to sleep. On the other hand the wakefulness gave me extra time to browse the internet and I have found some cool ideas for DIY additions to my enlarged toy box. I'll keep you posted …

[girlsockboy]

I absolutely love your denial adventure. Please do continue

[Pet Ra]

Originally Posted by Yasna

...
But most of the time I've just woken up in the middle of the night, even though I was still dead tired. And I couldn't get back to sleep for hours. I've observed the same the last times I denied myself orgasms for a longer time. I'm wondering whether the change in hormones interferes with the ability to sleep.
…

Good to read that I'm not the only one.
I too wake up some nights, dead tired and can't stop my brain from thinking about my denial and how honry it makes me

[Yasna]

Lovely, right? A visit to SPA: relaxation, being pampered. But wait: why the upper-case letters? SPA is short for "Sexual Pleasure Anonymous". Now that I'm typing this I smirk a little. When I thought about it a couple of hours ago I laughed hysterically. It was a difficult and intense night.

I get dizzy when I just sniff on alcohol. Therefore I very rarely drink. I have no good idea what any addiction feels like and I don't want to diminish other people's problems. But what appears to me as a similarity between addiction and sexual denial is the internal struggle. The feeling of being driven towards doing something that on a different level you don't want to do. Maybe also the impression of being at the mercy of your urges. Don't get me wrong: I don't want to imply that expressing someone's sexuality in any way is bad or even self-destructive like addiction. (It probably could be, though. But that's a different topic.) I've never been to an AA meeting. However, this blog, this forum as a whole is a place where people can share their experiences. So, is everybody in? Then let's get started.

"Good morning! I'm glad you're all here. I see we have a new face among us. Do you want to begin?"

Well, yesterday had been quite a normal day. That is to say "quite a normal day" considering that I refrained from any sexual stimulation for 10 days. Sure, there were a heightened sense of arousal, sexual thoughts and fantasies being on my mind a lot, a noticeable but not too uncomfortable permanent horniness under the surface. Yeah, yeah, the usual, you know? [Approving mumbling.] As I hadn't caught a lot of sleep lately I went to bed around 10pm, read a little, browsed the internet a bit, and fell asleep. Did you ever wake up, but had the feeling that you can't really awake because your consciousness had split? The one half, as usual located in your brain, is trying to figure out what's happening. The other half has dropped to your genital area. This part doesn't want to wake up at all. It feels like a stampeding herd of buffalos. Or like a tribe performing an ancient ritual. But they are not pleading for rain (it's pretty wet there already); they try to summon the demoniac hand that would redeem them. That would grant them release.

I know I'm getting rather highfalutin here. But it's difficult to do that state of mind justice. I maybe never felt such an intense urge to masturbate before. It was different from anything I had experienced up to that point. It was not only that I was horny; my pussy was leaking, my cunt twitching, my body trembling. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of inescapability. I felt at the mercy of a higher power, a ruthless and merciless power to be sure. I doubled up in the fetal position, pressing my hands against my chest. I could feel my heart race. Is this how withdrawal feels like? When you know what you want, but everything inside you screams that you're doing the wrong thing? That was the moment when I invented SPA: "Hello, I'm Yasna, and I can't kick the habit of touching myself." I beg your indulgence; you know in which state I was in. [Soothing whispers.] I was thinking about what might be able to distract me, but everything seemed to be too much in that moment. I just could lay there, a bundle of conflicting urges, holding onto a plank in a turbulent ocean close to dangerous vortexes. Half awake, half narcotized by this relentless urge. I started crying at some point. I was sweating. You must think I'm crazy. [Negating outcries.] Finally I drifted off, back to shallow, but consoling sleep. [Pats on the back.]

When I awoke I felt "normal" again. Normal like …, you know. Nothing compared to the turmoil during the night. Now that I'm typing this I'm also surprisingly calm. I'm not even particularly aroused like I usually am when I write about my sexual experiences. It seems like after the exhausting battle the involved parties agreed to a truce. I wonder how long this is going to last. And if they are just restocking their ammunition and awaiting reinforcements. Today I'll be hiding in the trenches and see what's happening. But even though this night has been tremendously difficult I'm happy. I don't know if anybody can understand this. It's this intensity I crave. For this I cheerfully sacrifice my sleep, my run-of-the-mine pleasure, and my fleeting orgasms.

[Yasna]

In my last blog entry I've been very enthusiastic about my "no touch"-denial experiences. I've depicted an intense and impressive incidence. And of course I'm biased toward writing about the preeminent moments. I don't want to create a false impression though. It's not always like that. I don't want to hump everything straightaway. Sure, sometimes I want to. But not always. At times the difference of perception is far more subtle. Let's take the ordinary event of waking up. Normally the alarm clock rings, I switch it off, and – usually a bit reluctantly – I get up and start to get ready for the day ahead. Now, on day 12 of my strict "no touch"-denial the alarm clock rings, but before I've even turned to switch it off I feel the tension in my body. It's not uncomfortable. It's like my body is expecting something, it's alert, it's open for what's in store. I realize I breathe more heavily than usual. I rub my feet against each other, just to move my muscles a little, to feel a slight sensual touch. I push the blanket to the side and loll about a few seconds. I feel an itch on my butt and I scratch it, softly-softly. Oh, I would love to grab it tightly, to pinch it hard. That would feel great! I smile when I jump out of bed. It feels like a permanent natural high. Not a drunken stupor. A very little buzz. A sip of champagne. Delicious.

I've written the preceding paragraph on Saturday morning. Now it's morning again, two days later (day 14) and everything I've said above is still true, but feels very differently today. The champagne has become a bit flat. I'd rather have a soul-warming cup of tea right now. Despite all the perks of my self-denial that I have described so far it's not easy at all. You can believe me that a huge part of me would rather be in bed right now getting myself off than sitting here typing in the early morning. I had a really exhausting and emotionally terrible weekend and I've slept extremely badly again. [Note to self: reading denial blogs and watching videos of girls cumming before bed doesn't calm you down. ] I feel down and drained. I really miss the relaxation from a nice masturbation session: forgetting about the outside world for an hour or two, dissolving the bottled-up tension in body and mind, pulling myself out of the difficulties of everyday life with orgasmic blazes that stir up a furore and are yet so powerful in restoring calm of body, mind, and soul.

I'm getting lyrical; that's always a bad sign. I could state it more directly and straightforward: I'm really! fucking! horny! I know it would feel incredibly good right now to pleasure myself and cum. Ah, what a gruelling predicament: to know that one could have awesome orgasms after withholding them for so long and nevertheless going on withholding them. However, I know I'd be terribly disappointed after having an orgasm now. In my current mood I don't trust myself to stop once I've started. No pleasure at all appears to be the only threshold I'm able to defend right now. Maybe the phase around two weeks into denial is particularly difficult (at least for me, I've had similar experiences before). I start to play mind games: "Two weeks is not that long. If you indulge now it's not a huge loss. You can take up denial again afterwards and you'll be back at two weeks in a heartbeat. [Haha, sure!] It will be so much easier when you have less outside stressors." While the latter might be true it's a cop-out for sure. As I said I want to find ways to make denial sustainable for me. I've given up and started over too often in the past. I'll try to lay low today, not feeding the urge, and see what happens. Maybe there's a new bottle of champagne waiting …