Okay a few things. Is it really ‘private’ if I keep sharing them with you? I just feel like they’re easier to write when I think no one else is going to read them…Then to share them with you 😀 If it’s weird, just tell me. Also, I felt like I maintained a great balance of things today. After you left…I ate, played piano, watched porn, edged, cleaning, edged, about to go study…Then edge again. Lot’s of edging. Very horny. The dildo fucking didn’t help, nor did the orgasming beauties. So thanks for that. Anyways, actual journal time.
I’m so conflicted about what just happened. James had me stuff my pussy with the dildo for the first time, and actually ‘secure’ it with a crotch rope. The last time I stuffed, I got really anxious, so I was nervous about doing this. Actually having it in hurt, while still making me so horny. But, for the most part, it was so uncomfortable. Then, weird conflicting emotions started to set in. At first, I felt like I should be anxious, but I was completely calm. It was a strange feeling as I kept on expecting to feel this huge rush of anxiety, but continued to feel fine. But then my mind started racing with a variety of panic-inducing thoughts, but physically, I still felt normal. My heart didn’t start racing, I didn’t start to feel nauseous, and I didn’t get dizzy. It was almost as if I was forcing myself to be anxious? I was expecting to feel anxious, and actually started to force myself to feel anxious, as that’s the reaction I was expecting. That’s ‘normal’ to me, and not feeling that perplexed me, and made me feel restless. So, in essence, not feeling anxious made me anxious, to some degree.
Afterwards, I felt even more peculiar. I freaked out, grabbed the nearest pair of scissors and sliced through the bootlaces, quickly pulling out the dildo, then the plug, but I didn’t feel some huge sense of relief like I thought I would. In fact, if anything, I felt sad that I was suddenly left so empty. The strangest part was immediately after that. I still felt incredibly horny, however, after what I had just experienced, I didn’t want to put anything near my pussy. It’s like my brain put me on no touch. It’s fucking torture. I’m so undeniably horny, but the thought of edging, or even cumming right now, is a huge turn off. Apparently, it’s not enough of a turn off, as I’m still as horny as ever. I think I’ve reached the point where I’m just horny, no matter what happens. I want to lay in bed and sob for hours. It’s this constant, dull ache, that doesn’t compare to *just* being horny. There have been times in the past where I’ve gotten horny and not done anything, and sure, that’s nice (and evil), but this is different. Edging and then leaving myself like that creates a unique, torturous feeling. That’s made even worse by James’ participation. I know that if I had never contacted him, and had been doing this myself, I would’ve cum today. Hell, I probably would’ve cum days ago. But, having him do this puts such a wonderful twist on the whole situation. I want to cum so badly, but I feel obligated to do as he says. Beyond that, I don’t REALLY want to cum. That’s what makes it the worst. If I were truly miserable, wouldn’t I just leave? Or tell James that I don’t want to do this anymore? But I wouldn’t do that, and I couldn’t ever imagine doing it. Because for some twisted, fucked up reason, I love this.
Watching the compilation of girls orgasming was the most dreadful part. Having to fuck myself while watching them twist and contort their bodies as they took for granted the pleasure I’m being denied… God, even when I looked away, I still had to listen to their moans. It felt like taking a person on a diet to a bakery. Just cruel. The level of self control I had to exert was unbelievable. All I wanted to do was fuck myself as hard and fast as I could, but I knew I would cum if I did that. Especially since every time I slid that dildo in and out of me, I could feel it press against the plug in my ass, shifting it ever so slightly. God, did that feel incredible. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to cum. I don’t think that I had ever felt that so strongly. I would have happily accepted a ruin. I think that was the first time that I really and truly, with every fiber of my being, wanted to be ruined. I’ve craved ruins before, but not like that. If James had allowed me at least that, I would’ve burst into tears, and maybe even a small victory dance. Any kind of relief would have been magnificent…But, I didn’t get that. Instead I was stuffed, and left to vibe my clit – something that nearly pushed me over the edge countless times. It was actually a bit scary, as it felt like I was going from a 5 to a 10 in a matter of seconds. I genuinely thought I would slip over. The last time that happened…My pussy was whipped. But now, sitting here, fully clothed, I’m wishing I had slipped over. A ruin would’ve been worth whatever punishment he decided to give out (but I know that no matter how much I say it, I won’t do it, as my orgasms, ruined or not, belong to him).
Yet, despite all that I’ve said, I STILL don’t want to cum. It’s a vague feeling, but it’s definitely there. It’s also an unfamiliar feeling. Almost as if there’s this part of me that I don’t understand or really even recognize. Some sick masochistic part, that doesn’t want to me to cum. I’m soaking wet, denied, aching, horny, frustrated, but also the happiest I’ve been in quite a long time.
It feels like there’s this part of me that functions independently from the rest of my body, and it doesn’t want me to cum for a very long time. I love standing up and feeling my mess dripping down my thighs, slowly drying there. The feeling of sliding the plug into my ass is wonderfully pleasurable, even though a lot of that has nothing to do with physical pleasure. Even today, when I wanted to cum more than anything, it wasn’t something I could consider. I love that I’m in a place where cumming without permission isn’t an option; To an extent where I don’t even think about it. I want to beg for permission, and do what I’m told, like a good girl (and ultimately be told ‘no’). I remember how horribly guilty I felt the one time I slipped over, and I don’t want to feel like that again. Especially since I’m sure it would be even worse now. I’m aware that I’m totally contradicting myself, first saying I want to cum more than anything, then saying that I don’t want to cum at all. Though to be fair, that’s exactly how I feel. Two parts of me that feel very differently. Denial is winning (James’ brainwashing – It works! ^-^). He once asked me, “On a scale of 1-100, how badly do you want to cum?” At the time I said 60. Now it’s more like a 30. Even though my body is screaming for it…I want it even less. Strange.
I’m often baffled by how fast this has been moving. How has my state of mind changed so drastically? I never expected anything like this. My need to please James and be a good girl went from literally nothing to a rather persistent feeling. I felt that pretty strongly today, while I was plugged. I didn’t want to take the plug or the dildo out without his permission. It wasn’t a matter of disappointing him. By this point, I know that when I’m feeling truly anxious, he’s not going to get mad if I take action on my own while he’s away. But still, there remained this underlying feeling of that ‘control’, and not wanting to disobey, no matter how logical it was to do so. Obviously I’m not a total idiot, and did end up taking it out anyways, but I stayed bent over my bed, both holes plugged, debating for some time before I was able to come to that decision. I’m not really sure why I felt this way. Maybe because what I was feeling wasn’t really anxiety? I know I described it to James as such, but it was something else, or at the very least, not the kind of anxiety I’m used to feeling (frankly, this is hard to believe, as I have my fair share of experience dealing with panic). There was a need to submit. To do whatever he asked me to. To just give him that control. Still, I’m uneasy feeling this way. Should I be feeling this way? Is it bad? Should I even admit something like this? Lol. I have no idea how I should be feeling, and I spend a lot of timing wondering if this is normal, or if I need to take a step back and slow things down. I mean, I don’t feel like I’m trying to ‘rush’ anything, it’s just kind of happening, and unfortunately, I can’t control the way I feel. 🙁
UPDATE: I did something bad…Which is funny, as I was just discussing how guilty I would feel. I was edging with my vibe on high, and stupidly enough, decided to try and see how long I could ride the edge. Well…I felt myself getting close for the millionth time, so I pulled the vibe away. I then proceeded to have the lamest ruined orgasm anyone has ever had. It was so mellow I wasn’t even sure it was a ruin. The only thing that confirmed it was when I put the vibe back on my clit and went into full spasm mode. I don’t feel guilty, but I do feel stupid. I swear to fuck, there was no pleasure. It was just slowly slipping over the edge, and that was it. There was no relief, not even for a second. There wasn’t a moment where I felt devestated, or less horny. NOTHING CHANGED. It’s like I didn’t even ruin. But, I did slip over. Now I’m really frustrated as I’m still just as horny as I was before…And now I have to endure whatever the fuck you make me do. I can already tell you it wasn’t worth it. I’m actually kind of pissed. Fucking lamest ruin of all time. Well, I was going to pull out my dildo and go fuck myself again…But it would be REALLY bad if I slipped over twice in one night. So, I guess I should change my panties, seeming as how I made a huge mess in them. Sorry for going over 🙁 It was an accident. Please don’t be too mean to me…And at least take comfort in knowing you missed literally nothing exciting?! Sorry again… Maybe I need to be supervised when using my vibe. Lol. Kidding. Kay.