CW: BDSM, Orgasm Control, Power Exchange, Degradation
January was a pretty intense month for me, in part this was due to it being generally depressing, but mostly because of an intense exam season. As a result of this I’ve been quite distant with friends and partners, and since the end of exams a couple of weeks ago I’ve been trying to reconnect with the people I love. So when my partner (the delightful Quinn Rhodes) proposed giving me control of their orgasms for a week before visiting me, it was the perfect opportunity for some intimacy and delightful deviancy. And because we’re both sex nerds and writers, we both decided to write about our side of the experience.
This was breaking new ground for both of us, while we’ve played with short term orgasm denial before this was something very different, with its own set of risks. This was essentially a week long scene, and before starting we discussed how to ensure communication and continuous consent throughout the extended period. This naturally varies from person to person, for us it meant regularly checking in about how we were finding the scene (clearly delineated from kinky teasing), and checking in on mental health. This dynamic was only possible because we trust one another to say if something is going wrong, and also to check in with ourselves and recognise how our headspaces shifted over this period.
Me and Quinn are generally quite switchy with each other (often switching within a scene), so being in a dominant position for an extended period of time was new for us. It brought about a heady rush of power and this incredible sexual tension between us. The knowledge that I have been trusted with this power over them, and the intense sense of connection it evokes in me were powerfully erotic and romantic for me. With this comes responsibility, ownership of someones orgasms and the broad power exchange it takes place within is a lot. That trust is both a gift and a responsibility, during the week I felt almost a duty of care, I held considerable power over another human for an extended period of time and I wanted to be sure I didn’t mismanage that and end up hurting them. The dynamic was an ever present thought at the back of my mind, both a gift to enjoy, and a responsibility to respect.
That’s not to say the week was all serious D/s though (I struggle to act as a Serious Dom for more than 5 minutes at a time). Throughout the week I delighted in teasing and tormenting Quinn; humiliation play and dirty talk are big kinks for both of us, and they played a central role in this dynamic. I would order Quinn to edge themself, tell them to get close and beg to cum, let them believe that I might be merciful before denying that release. We often have a bratty dynamic, and I very much enjoyed watching them dig a hole for themself and find creative ways to punish them for this. We experimented with audio messages, Quinn would send me clips of them moaning and begging and saying my name as they masturbated. In return I would describe all the filthy things we could do together, or if I was feeling particularly mean send clips of my orgasms, taking great pleasure in describing how much I was enjoying the thing they were denied. This kind of mindfuckery is a huge part of the appeal of orgasm denial for me. I love getting into my partners head, using their own arousal and desperation (which I have helped create) as a way to humiliate and degrade them, it gives them permission to revel in their desire and depravity, and to me that is beautiful to see. It’s a psychologically intense dynamic that I enjoy on both sides, as with any mindfuckery it comes with significant risk, Which in a way is part of the appeal. I love that my partner can do something which requires so much mutual trust, giving another so much power over you, showing each other these sides of you. That is an experience which is almost spiritual in the intensity it brings.
Towards the end of the week we got a little more creative with our denial games, and decided to include Quinn’s Twitter followers. The rules were simple, if 10% voted no, Quinn wouldn’t be allowed to orgasm till the second day of them visiting me. After the first hour showed there was no chance of that happening (Quinn’s followers are meeeean <3) I added a proviso that if more than 50% voted no, I’d try to make Quinn cry from frustration before getting to orgasm. This was a challenge they rose to magnificently.
The hours before I get to see Quinn are always excruciating. Having patiently waited for over a month time slows, evey minute stretches out as I feel their absence acutely. The same is true when they leave of course, but at least then I am better able to distract myself. As I made my way to meet them at the train station my body was thrumming with anticipation, and when I saw Quinn and held them in my arms i was filled with this sensation of peace and overwhelming love. As we kissed everything fell away, and all that was left was me and this beautiful person I love. As we pulled apart, enveloped in that warm glow and whispered in their ear. A string of filthy words, reasserting the dynamic and reminding Quinn of the power they had given me and all the debaucherous ideas we’d shared over the past week. I pulled away and watched the humiliation and arousal chase each other across their face and smiled, as we went to my place I continued to tease and flirt, watching Quinn squirm in their seat in anticipation.
When we got through the door we were all other each other, i pinned them against the wall as our mouths and hands devoured each other with a desperate hunger. The exact series of events are lost in a thick fog of lust, so what follows is a series of snapshots and impressions … The look of desperation in Quinn’s eyes as I gripped their hair, holding my lips just out of reach to deny them the gentle reassurance of a kiss. I lean in and let them believe I might kiss them, and the look of violation as I spit in their mouth instead … Throwing them down on the sofa, roughly stripping their body and revelling in the feeling of skin against skin … Quinn on my lap, legs spread open as a I hold a Doxy to their crotch in a delightfully obscene display. Whispering encouragement and degradation in their ear as I edge them. Holding the vibrator in place for longer and longer each time, edging them harder and harder and feeling the roiling tension build in their body … Kneeling in front of me, their face sticky with precum and spit. Begging me to mark them as my cumslut, and tasting my cock on their tongue as I kiss them after fucking their mouth … slapping their face and body, reminding them that they’re my fucktoy to use however I want. I remind them that their followers decided they didn’t come till Wednesday, but if I chose to I could make them wait even longer.
And then I notice a change. Quinn becomes less responsive, more withdrawn, a subtle shift in the dynamic. I lean in, my voice gentle and tender, checking in to see if they’re ok. Things have become too intense, the layers of power exchange and kink had shifted from overwhelming pleasure to just overwhelming. I gently raised my partner up and took them in my arms, as I envelop them in the safety of my arms I do the same with my words. We create a space in which we can talk outside of the scene, with no dynamic beyond that of loving partners. I won’t share what was said then, it feels too intimate, it’s private in a way that the rest of this experience isn’t. After a while Quinn decides they want to contiue the scene and have the orgasm they’ve been denied for the last week.
Again i hold them on my lap and spread their legs open, i listen to their breath catch and gasp as the sensitised flesh of their crotch is stimulated again. I whisper filthy encouragements and listen to them gasp, moan and beg, until i feel their body tense and shudder, and they moan my name as they orgasm. In the afterglow we cuddle together, brought closer and renewed by the intense experience we’ve shared over the last week. And together we shift from the intense 24/7 power dynamic we’ve inhabited for the last week, back to the fluid switchy equality which normally characterises our relationship.
Looking back I feel so lucky, both that Quinn trusted me with that power, and that I have a partner to indulge in such intense filth with me. As an experience I found it both wonderfully intense, and a little exhausting. The reponsibility of having that continuous control over them did weigh on my mind, I certainly don’t think I would ever want to (or safely could) engage in a longer term 24/7 power dynamic. I don’t think this will become a regular part of our play, as it was a very intense experience on both sides. But as a way to reconnect with Quinn after a period of feeling a little disconnected it worked wonderfully. Long term denial is a risky dynamic, and one which takes a lot of work to do safely and enjoyably, but for me it was definitely worth it, and I hope we return to it again at some point when we have the time and energy to invest in this beautiful intense experience.
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