It’s another night of the game, that for some reason I seem to draw edging a lot, and tonight is another bout of it. These are all about almost performing the edging and I go into this all, well, cocky. Feeling like it’ll be nice and fun and easy and…
I roll through a few edges, fighting to keep that control, fighting to feel it all welling up inside me, then fighting it back, pushing it down and keeping the full orgasm from causing me more problems. But you’ve shown too that you have a tendency to be unhappy if I don’t get close enough. It’s this bizarre balancing act of “I don’t think so – keep going!” immediately followed by objections, over which all I hear is “be quiet, keep going as you were told.” I’ve learned to not ignore the commands.
So yeah, it’s a balancing act of going far enough to keep you happy, but not so far as to make things rather unpleasant in terms of punishment.
It’s cumulative though – and it gets harder and harder to push back, to control things, and you seem to watch with increasing interest the more the edges tick off, and the longer I go for you.
For me, the rush of feeling each and every stroke, the flipping around of the PA ring and all of it is combining to make it increasingly difficult to control. The PA has become this weird variable – when I stop, it doesn’t necessarily. In fact, it has a tendency to keep moving around and it’s like this internal stroke or two or three that I have to plan for, to try to manage control through. It’s not always, but damn… when it kicks in, my head starts screaming and body is clenching to manage some semblance of control.
So I stop once again.
Immediately I hear “5 more… NOW.”
My brain does this backflip. I look at you like you’re speaking some foreign language. You repeat it. “5 more, NOW” The fog descends on around my ears, they’re literally humming, the edge has not subsided…
I add 5 strokes and stop. Immediately you tell me “10 more.”
I know I’m in trouble. I know if I release my hand, if I stop, there are significant consequences. If I continue, we may well be in a place where I lose the edge and go all the way into the canyon. The lizard brain in me is screaming this maniacal “YESSSSSSSS” sort of strumming my fingers together with an evil grin. My subby brain is calculating what I can get away with. All in the fraction of a second as I start stroking.
I try to loosen the grip. I go slower, I go shallower. It doesn’t really matter. I somehow hold it off and stop immediately after the 10 and sit back a little, taking a breath.
I know I don’t have a choice, at about 7 or 8 I can feel my insides doing that magically wonderful convulsing thing they do when things are about to get really real. I fight back, literally saying out loud (I think, it was sure loud in my head anyway) “No, no, no, no, no…”
I get to 15 and stop. Holding my breath. For about 0.5 seconds.
My mind is exploding. I can’t figure out what I’m *supposed* to be doing – what I’m *about* to do is have an unauthorized O here, after being told I couldn’t. I know the control is lacking to put it lightly, and I know how damn good it feels. About 75% of me now wants to just go for it, but now I want to show I can control it too.
Somehow body screaming and literally convulsing and clenching and giving it everything I can, I make it to 20 and release my hand.
About 2 seconds later, it washes over me, I feel things come from deep inside me, erupting out, completely out of control, completely not what I wanted. Well, wanted, but didn’t want, but wanted…
It’s this incredible battle of mental vs. physical vs. mindset vs. animal/lizard brain.
I lost. The ruined O was completely in charge at this point and making no bones about it. There was no hiding it as it dribbled and dribbled and dribbled the evidence.
I look up to see that evil, sly grin on her face again. She’s discovered a new sweet torture device – and a way to extract opportunities for additional game points lost…