I see so many denial-related posts around here about how someone is being punished by being denied. And while that is totally legit, and I’m not judging how anyone uses denial in their dynamic…it makes me a little sad.
Because for me? My denial is beautiful.
In my relationship, denial is not about punishment. It is a gift he gave me – the gift of his ownership, which manifests itself so strongly in this element of our relationship. My denial makes me feel…cared for, cherished, owned. The day he told me I would no longer be allowed to orgasm with anyone but him was one of the happiest days of my life. I still play with LOTS of people, but they all know I don’t get to come. That is something special between my Sir and me only.
Does that mean I always love it? No, certainly not! Not in the moment, when I’m fighting so hard to keep from going over the edge that is beckoning to me. In those moments, I want to have an orgasm so badly that I’m pretty sure I’d sacrifice a body part for it. (I mean, a small and not terribly useful one, like maybe my 3rd toe or something. But still!) However, that still doesn’t mean it’s a punishment for me.
Rather, it’s a deep expression of my masochism. And more than that, it’s perhaps the deepest expression of my surrender. I am easily multi orgasmic, and this is a basic human bodily function. And I’ve given it to him. Every time that I think about my denial, it fills me with such peace and happiness.
I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with denial as punishment. But it saddens me that so often it’s perceived as the only purpose for denial, when there can be so much more to it than that. Little makes me feel my Sir’s ownership of me and my surrender to him more powerfully than my denial.
NOTE: As of this writing, 2/27/18, I am on Day 455 since my last orgasm, which was on 11/29/16.