O is for Orgasm…Denied!
O is for Orgasm…Denied!
Orgasms are fun. …Just thought I’d start off with a Captain Obvious, but it’s true.
Orgasms are nature’s way of saying, “Damn that was fun. Here, have some sleep.” They are also fundamentally every submissive’s right to enjoy…unless, of course, you’ve got one of those Doms who has not read the Constitution. Seriously, right to orgasms is in there. Look it up. Eighth Amendment…cruel and unusual punishment…might even fall under torture if kept up long enough…God bless the apolitical Dom.
What is it about being denied this right that makes the fantasy so damned sexy and the reality so damned ‘justifiable homicide’? Raise your hand if you’ve ever daydreamed about doing it/having it done (the denial part, not the homicide) to you? Just me, huh? Fine. Be that way, but there is a definite and wicked appeal to sharing that very specific kind of master/submissive dance. Whether given as a way of extending pleasure, asserting one’s command over the base sexual function (dare I say, frenzy) of another, or even as a method of punishment, being taken to that peak of raw sexual need but then being forbidden to fall—either once because your Dom either has a wicked sense of humor…
…or needs to prove a point, or multiples times because you have been really, really bad AND your Dom has a wicked sense of humor and needs to prove a point—is, in a word…well, maddening.
It’s also electrifying. Hook me up to the lightning bolts, Dr. Frankenstein—that kind of electrifying. It’s mental stimulation as much as it is physical or sexual. It’s exhausting, but in a way that will leave your body humming for days. It is nothing short of torture, but don’t bother calling the Geneva Convention. You are owned. Controlled in the most base and basic way a person could ever be controlled. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Not one silly thing…especially if your Dominant has ways of making sure you don’t…er, ‘take matters in hand’ the minute his or her back is turned.
Author Shoshanna Evers explores this fantasy in her exceedingly hot and well-written novella, Chastity Belt.
Jonathan tied the blindfold around her head tightly.
The world went dark and her other senses sharpened. She could hear a tearing sound. What was that? Oh right. The plastic wrap. She felt Jonathan’s large warm hands as he took two fingers and slowly spread her labia until her clit was fully exposed, and only then did he put the thin piece of clear plastic over her pussy. Man, that felt weird.
Then his mouth was on her…he slowly licked up the center of her nether lips, causing tingles all the way to her toes. She inhaled sharply as he made circles with his tongue.
His warm breath tickled her pussy as he spoke, his voice quiet enough that she could tell his words were meant for her ears only.
“Sweet Georgia,” he whispered, and her name on his lips made her flush with heat. “I have a question for you.”
She nodded silently, not sure if he was even looking at her face since she couldn’t see anything.
He took a moment to reply, pausing to lick her clit with lazy circles. “How do you feel about…chastity belts?”
‘How did he know?’ she wondered. How could this man—this stranger—possibly know? Being locked in a chastity belt was one of her go-to fantasies. She laughed uncomfortably.
“I’m guessing Casey told you about the story I found online,” she murmured, embarrassed.
“Tell me the story,” he said, and sucked her clit into his mouth, plastic wrap intact. She gasped, but just the thought of the story was getting her even more turned-on than Jonathan’s perfect technique.
“There was a girl,” she started, sure she was blushing, “and her master made her wear a chastity belt for an entire week. He wouldn’t let her come—he just teased her until she thought she’d die.”
“What would you do,” he asked slowly, “if I put a chastity belt on you, and wouldn’t take it off for a week?”
She moaned. This couldn’t really be happening. How on earth did Jonathan know her most secret fantasy—how did he know that just talking to her about the idea made her ready to come?
“If you put a chastity belt on me,” she breathed, “I’d be yours, all locked up, just for you—until you set me free.”
She was right there on the edge of climaxing, her pussy clamping, wishing she had Jonathan’s cock inside her—this stranger who seemed to know her most inner self. He knew exactly what he was doing.
‘Don’t stop, don’t stop,’ she thought, but then his tongue was gone and she felt the plastic being pulled away from her pussy.
She heard Jonathan’s voice as he stepped aside and another man came forward. “She’s delightful,” he said. “Enjoy.”
Georgia Hearn has found the perfect way to make easy cash—performing an interactive BDSM-flavored stage show at the exclusive Gentlemen’s Club. When handsome GC client Jonathan Syler goes up onstage and locks her into a chastity belt, it’s all supposed to be part of the fun. But Jonathan makes it clear he won’t be unlocking her anytime soon.
Now she’s at his mercy—and has no choice but to see him again, since he holds the key to her pleasure. Literally.
Reader’s Advisory: This book contains a hot girl-on-girl tease and denial scene and some F/F/M action.
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