I have deleted so much utter garbage writing over the last few months. Strangely, wondering if financial disaster will hit and end up with us getting evicted hasn’t made me feel very creative, or given the general focus of this blog, like fucking.
Things have sorted themselves out for the better, shockingly so. We’ve actually had some good fortune, which is rather suspicious to a pair of people who aren’t used to it and tend to wait for the other shoe to drop. It’s funny, but being in crisis mode over our whole life possibly being upended left me just numb and trying to focus, but having other non-life destroying stresses coming up over the last few weeks is making up for lost time and KillBoy has spent plenty of time talking me down from unreasonable anxiety attacks.
In the meantime, one might hope that in such a situation of new relief and hope, our sex life has sprung right back into place. Mmmm, not so much. Because of who I am and how I roll, I eventually told him that things seemed a little too strained to expect much from our sex life right now, therefore he wasn’t allowed to get himself off until after the first major stressor had passed. He really would have hated it if it had indeed been put off a month like we almost had to! In the past, I’ve declared periods of complete denial before, usually right before a visit while we were still doing the long distance thing. Otherwise, he was allowed to masturbate whenever. When the subject had come up early in our relationship I knew he was skittish about it for reasons more than just “don’t wanna” and also didn’t want to take on that responsibility. It’s something I can’t quite explain easily, but for me, taking on that would have been running before I could walk.
Anyway, we had a hilarious misunderstanding where I almost called the denial period off because it clearly wasn’t working as intended, and he informed me that it was working very very well. And by hilarious, I mean annoying that he was making assumptions that kept him from using his words and talking to me about how things were going. He gets a pass this time, because good intentions etc, but next time he gets a longer denial or IDK, tied down and made to listen to Phil Collins. I could have brought it up myself earlier, but I’m the one in charge of an at least partially unfair dynamic, so you know, su-su-sussudio oh oh.
Anyway, we actually talked it out like adults because that’s what we do. And then there was some delightful fucking, intense to the point that I did something I normally wouldn’t – I brought up a rule change while we were still having sex. I’ve been thinking about revisiting total control over his orgasms for a while, and it spilled out while I was teasing him about how long it’s been since I told him he was being denied. In the past, there’s been a certain hesitancy to his demeanor when we’ve discussed it, but this time he agreed to it with a sort of “oh no this bus I am throwing myself under is going to hit me at full speed and it will be amaz… terrible, just awful.” that I’ve seen in more than a few submissives of an emotional and/or physical masochistic bent.
Don’t worry, I fully intend to use this power for good. My own personal amusement is very, very good.