Retrospective

from 2005… I don’t think I ever shared it here, because it was in my ‘unfinished’ folder:

Chris and I don’t have many rules.  But we do have this one.  It goes something like this:  Thou shalt not have an orgasm when playing with thy husband unless permission is first received from thy husband.  This generally requires me asking for permission first.

I have been working on a project that last week took a wild turn for the worst.  Tuesday morning everything was on the up and up and it was going to be finished well before its deadline and I was really happy.  Wednesday morning the whole thing was scrapped and I was essentially back at step one with a good week’s worth of work ahead of me to do in three or four days.  I wasn’t getting much sleep, I drafted Chris to help me and I was really tense.

So Friday night sometime after 11 pm, Chris literally threw up his hands, said something like ‘that’s enough for tonight’ and herded me in the direction of the bedroom.  And me, being me, agreed.  A person can only take so much work.

But I was feeling, well, squirrelly.  Rebellious.  And I told Chris I was feeling like I wanted to do something disobedient.  “You know what the consequences are,” he said, not looking at all like he minded.

I do know what the consequences are.  The rule is that if I orgasm without permission, then Chris may punish me by fucking me anally, without worrying about whether I get off on it or not.  Or he may defer it until such time of his choosing, in which case I have to think about it, anticipate it, consider it, etc.  It may also involve spanking, other ‘preparation’ for my punishment, and a lot of teasing.

So Chris doesn’t mind me breaking this particular rule, truly.  In fact, the rule is to remind me of my submission, not to make him feel dominant.  Trust me when I say he relishes every time I break it.

And he knew I was going to break it.  He took great delight at building me up to a point where I was highly aroused but still retaining my state of mind.  This didn’t involve a lot of spanking, but rather nibbling, pinching, rubbing and fondling.  And I said several times I didn’t want to ask.  He kept touching me.

[FYI - This is not a complaint.  I adore – am terribly greedy and eager and happy about – being touched.  Anywhere.  Any time.  Yes please.]

I orgasmed.  No permission.  Not even asked for and refused.

When I came back to the present, I didn’t care.  I just laid there and waited while Chris fondled my bottom, apparently thinking about how much he was going to enjoy punishing me for this particular offense.  And then he started again.  Tweaking and rolling my nipples and fondling my bottom until I knew I was either going to dig myself a very deep and dangerous hole or I was going to break down, ask permission and start feeling the very submissive head space that I was fighting.

I wasn’t ready to break down and in a true spirit of rebelliousness, I reached down and started rubbing my own clitoris.

No surprise when I had the second orgasm.

Chris just smiled and held me close.  We snuggled for a few minutes and then he started telling me about my punishment, about how my bottom was going to be spread apart and he was going to slide his finger in to help me prepare for my punishment.  And then he did.  One finger in, additional pressure further forward and his second hand was on my nipples.

I still wouldn’t ask.

I suffered the third orgasm with his one finger of his left hand in my bottom and two fingers of his right hand pinching one of my nipples.  I say suffered because I knew I only had to ask and he would give permission but I didn’t want to.  I didn’t want to.  I didn’t want to ask.  I wanted to be naughty, disobedient and I wanted to feel punished after.

Instead of punishing me straight off, he was helping me dig myself into a deeper hole.  And I think he was enjoying every second of it.

He did take mercy on me (or on himself) after the third one, and decided that my punishment would shortly commence.  He also took the time to remind me that the other two punishments would be deferred at his leisure.  He teased me about how obvious it was that he could, instead of punishing me right then, continue to torment me until I totaled any number of additional punishments from unpermitted orgasms.

After that, I was thoroughly punished (see above for what happens, I won’t describe it in detail!), he was thoroughly happy, and I had no more orgasms that night.

I did, however, sleep extraordinarily well and my neck and backache was miraculously absent.

At least, until Saturday when I started working again.

Sunday afternoon, Chris and I spent the baby’s naptime cuddling happily.  During that very happy and contented ninety minutes of bliss, we discussed (umm… planned) my imminent punishment, to be endured when Chris chooses.

It seems I’m to be naked and bound (how is undecided), and ordered face down on the bed with a butt plug inserted into my bottom.  I will be required to stay there for as long as Chris chooses (in his words, 30 seconds or two hours or sometime in between).  He will feel free to come and go as he wishes, to pinch, rub, smack and otherwise remind me of my helplessness and hurt me.  I am, while in this position, to consider the relative wisdom of active disobedience.  To think about how when my punishment is over, I’ll still have one more to go.  To think about how helpless I am, and how naughty I am for liking my punishment at the same time it is uncomfortable and so very embarrassing.  To think about how when it is over I might very well still be frustrated and unsatisfied.

Obviously, I’m already thinking.