I learned from Lucie this morning that I would go straight into Locktober locked and denied, without a release. Just like every other day. And I actually felt better about it than I had expected.
During our chat this morning, Lucie asked me this question.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how desperate are you to have an orgasm before starting Locktober?”
Weirdly, although I’ve felt pretty desperate for about the past week, I found I had to think about it for a moment before answering. I discovered I was feeling a little like Natalie Imbruglia again.
“I don’t miss it all that much
There’s just so many things
That I can’t touch. I’m torn.”— “Torn,” song by Natalie Imbruglia
After 83 days caged and 149 days orgasm-free, I realized what a contented place I was in. Finally, I told Lucie I would rate my desperation level at about 6.
She said, “But you’ve been saying for days your arousal and frustration are at peak levels?”
I told her that was still true. But when I thought about how pleasurable the state of constant arousal feels and how intensely submissive it makes me feel, I just wasn’t sure I felt all that desperate to trade it all for a few seconds of pleasure. After all, we had spent weeks and weeks getting me to this point and, for just a few fleeting moments of pleasure, I would have to start all over again.
She thought about that for a moment and then said, “Those are precious feelings.” She smiled and continued. “Indeed, it would be a shame to jerk it all away from you.”
Then she decided. I would go straight into Locktober without a release. I felt strangely at peace with her decision.
Men, including me, think of sexual pleasure in terms of their orgasms. Understandable since orgasms feel good. But the more time I spend locked in chastity, especially since meeting Lucie, experiencing those short moments of jouissance, those brief spasms of ecstasy, just don’t seem so important anymore. I’ve begun to wonder if Lucie hasn’t led me to discover an entirely new perspective on sexual pleasure? Perhaps she has permeated every aspect of my sexuality to where physical pleasure for me now looks like pleasure for Lucie.
Of course, Lucie would have decided alone about whether I got an orgasm before Locktober. I would not have had any real input in the decision. And yet I feel certain Lucie would have given my feelings some consideration or she wouldn’t have asked me the desperation question. If I had said my desperation level was a 10, that doesn’t mean she would have allowed me an orgasm. But I got the impression I had pleased her with my answer and explanation and that felt like an achievement.
Once she told me I wouldn’t get an orgasm before Locktober, I said, only half-jokingly, “Maybe you should just cum for both of us from now on, Mistress.”
Lucie smiled again and said, “I already do.”