Deferred pleasures

The other night, after we had been playing on our webcams, I offered the brown-eyed girl an orgasm. You may come if you wish, I said. And she declined. This is a girl who needs to come a lot. This is a girl who, when I recently denied her orgasms for a whole week, begged and pleaded to come, whined constantly that if she didn’t come she would go out of her mind. And here she was turning down a free one. Why?

She explained her reasoning. She had some holiday coming up and she knew that meant an opportunity to play with me very intensively. She wanted her desire honed and sharpened for this, not blunted by too much coming. If she doesn’t come for a while, her need reaches a fever-pitch. And so, if there is a prospect of indulging her needs by prolonged play with her dom, then she will nurse her desire in order to increase her pleasure.

This sounds like the sexual equivalent of the protestant work ethic, that characteristic of early western capitalist society whereby the good bourgeois would husband his resources and invest for the future. Instant gratification was deferred in favour of amassing the capital that would lead to greater prosperity in the long run. (Whatever capitalism is now, there doesn’t seem to be much sense of the long run, more like a quick killing, but I guess that’s another story).

Of course, being her dom I could have insisted she come whether she wanted to or not, and I did consider this option. It’s pleasurable to watch her come on-screen, to observe the intense concentration on her face as the orgasm builds, to hear the little noises she makes as it gets closer, and then see her body shake with the spasm of ecstasy. On the other hand, there’s even more pleasure in postponing that, if I know it will make her more horny, more willing to do the things I have in mind for the next time we play.

The more horny she is, the more I can get out of her, the further I can take her. I can ratchet up the level of pain she has to endure, or the amount of humiliation she must suffer. Being a highly sexed girl, she’s never in a state of mind where she definitely doesn’t want to come. Interesting her in some form of sexual activity is the work of a moment. And she’s not like a guy, who, when he has ejaculated, would rather spend the next hour watching football on TV than be enticed into further sex-play. She’s always ready for more, and seemingly always wet. Or is it that the mere order to put her hand between her legs and report on the state of her cunt in itself triggers an instant flow of juices? Either way, she’s ready.

All the same, if she has been kept on the brink, constantly aroused yet never satisfied, then one can get even more remarkable results from, say, the remorseless application of particularly evil nipple clamps. So, I decided I would not force her to come. And the next time she wants to, she’ll have a bigger, harder, longer orgasm. But perhaps she won’t get one at all. Maybe next time I’ll be the one to make her wait. Two can play at that game.