Denial

I've never had to cope with denial.  I've denied myself sex and another's touch for years at a time due to circumstances and lack of qualified candidates, but never have I shied away from taking basic care of my own sexual needs.  While there have been countless times I couldn't find my release, I could at least find some small measure of pleasure in the act of touching myself.  Going completely without was never conducive mentally, physically, or emotionally for me.

Those closest to me often find fault with my sex drive or look at me blankly, unable to fathom.  While I've known from a very early age that I was different in many ways on how I saw, treated, and approached sex, I never felt it was a negative trait.  Difficult to handle?  Yes.  When I was married and my husband had worked 12+ hours, I fucked him in his sleep, my need was so great.  I've overcome twisted tubes at birth and been asked, "How did you do that?"  I've inspired a lover to take medication to keep up.  I've drained men to the point where they said no in order to be able to function.  I'm not saying I'm the best or have some magical tricks.  I know that I rarely get enough.  Maybe that's my own damn fault for being so selective that when I do agree to have sex with a man I typically want a lot if he proves to have at least the basics down.

I don't know.  Maybe there is something wrong with me.  ~shrug~  I've always simply accepted that I am a highly sexual creature by nature both in frequency and...depth.  That energy is a main source of nutrition for my inner balance.  It feeds my existence.  As I said in my very first blog post, I am a whore.  A whore for the right man.

I've found that right man, and I've done something that I've never done before.  I gave M control of my sexuality weeks ago.  It's now His.  To control.  To feed.  To devour.  To deny.  His.

He can make me nearly come apart with a word.  Through his ownership, I've learned the subtle yet most fundamental foundation of sex.  Something I either never understood or have long ago forgotten.  The power of basic pleasure.  Being denied permission to cum, my drive to completion was lost.  I was able to relax more than I ever have.  I could pay attention to the smallest and simplest of touches.  I could feel everything more intensely.

Foreplay became not just five minutes or twenty.  There have been long seductive days of it.  He teased my body.  He stroked my mind.  He licked my emotions.  Until when he finally granted His Whore permission to cum, I was frantic with need and want of Him.  He seduced me more thoroughly than any lover who has touched me.  Each step of the way, pulling me closer and tighter under Him.

I've done well in honoring M's control.  I relinquished that power to him happily.  He'd earned my trust and respect.  I haven't always know what to do.  I've tried to temper my requests and needs, so I wouldn't be a burden to him.  I've tried to manage my awareness of my sexual energy levels so that spikes wouldn't interfere with practical day to day life for either of us.  I've gone days without, when my standard had been several a day.  It's been an adjustment.  Yet, also a relief.

But I fucked up this morning.  I was deliberately disobedient.  I was alone.  I was in deep need physically and emotionally.  But I was also upset...a little with M, but much, much more so with my own sense of vulnerability and insecurity.  I rebelled.  I'm not proud of it, but I can't find it in myself to be ashamed either.  Maybe that's something I need to work on.  Again, I don't know.  All I can try to do is recognize my behavior for what it is and not make excuses for it or deny what's going on with me.  I can't be honest with Him if I can't be honest with myself.

In the meantime, I'm waiting for M's punishment.  I have no doubt it will be anything enjoyable.  He doesn't fuck around.  ~sigh~
~DominaKat