My CBT Revelations 1
These are true events as best as I can recall them. They are not as hot as
some of the pure fantasy material that get posted. But, as opposed to fantasy
material, these events really happened and perhaps there is a place to for that
too. This is about how an old girlfriend either got me to reveal myself and my
fetish for CBT, or maneuvered me in to giving her what she wanted. I really
never knew and still don't.
And I doubt I will ever be able to related the gentle and caring way she use
to torment me. She was a small woman and very lovable and gentle in her
approach to life and people and youthful in her enthusiasm for fun. She never
was a leather clad domme like I had fantasized about so often. Rather, always
a gentle caring lover with a soft voice who liked romantic movies and flowers
on hr birthday and also use to do terrible things to me and abuse and humiliate
me in ways I would never have believed possible. But, some of that for later,
now, the prologue of sorts.
It was probably after about 3 months or so of going out that Julie started
to realize I had a weakness for a pretty girl abusing me. I don't know that we
ever had a long detailed conversation, but, I would sometimes encourage her to
squeeze my balls when she was pleasing me orally, or if she got a little rough
with my cock it would excite me and she could see me swell and my moans and
ragged breathing was tell-tell sign enough for her to figure something was up.
Things proceeded slowly and incrementally for the next 3-4 months, but, Julie
was becoming more bold with her rough handling and talking more when we were
having sex about things she was going to do to my balls. It use to get me so
fucking hot when she would whisper so soft and low in my ear as we made love
how she was going to tie me down and slap my balls, or put clothes pins all over
my cock and pull on them slowly one by one. Things like that.
I use to think that Julie thought what got me hot was the juxtaposition of such
a sweet innocent gentle and petite woman saying things like that that. And that
is why she thought I enjoyed it, but, we would never proceed beyond that little
verbal fantasy play. I secretly lusted for this little angel to abuse me like
that. Her words would spin in me and I would have so many fantasy imaginings,
visual images and it pulled things from so deep inside me I would often feel
like I was being transported and falling...falling deeper and deeper in to this
space I can't describe. I wonder now sometimes if I was being conditioned or
probed and Julie had some plans after she saw how it affected me, or, if she
and I just stumbled forward thru this method of discovery.
I certainly wasn't going to tell her this need I had always had, this thing
about me I had never ever mentioned in any way to any lover of mine, that I had
long ago locked away.
One day when we were engaged in some rather vanilla lovemaking, Julie was on
top, riding me, and, as I started to approach a climax, she sat up, still
fully on my cock, and reached back and gave my balls a slap. Simple as that
and yet, with all the implications in the world for me, It wasn't to hard but
it made me buck up with the pain and she felt me drive all the way in to her.
I had a moment of shock but it only lasted a moment and then I started pumping
my hips in to her, hard and fast, unable to control my lust.
This was one simple light slap and done with no overtones of anything and I
couldn't control my lust at the possibilities it spoke to me.
She was looking at me, straight in to my eyes, rocking her hips over me, and
feeling the urgency of my thrusts when the look turned in to "The Look."
Haven't we all had a moment like that. When someone looks right through us and
something deep and hidden and something we think makes us vulnerable is known.
I think right then, at that moment, that is when Julie actually knew. Right
then she had discovered something about me that perhaps she had wondered about
before but, wasn't sure of. She knew now, that the little rough games we had
played before, the verbal teasing about hurting my balls and punishing my cock,
that this held something for me, that in my eyes and in the response from this
simple slap, from that somethng of me was learned. She had found my
vulnerability, the need in my sexuality that was there to exploit. And, at that
moment, in her usual way, she let it float as light as a feather, wafting
throught the warm summer breeze.
But, shortly after that things did start moving faster. Julie had found
something in herself here too. This was a sweet, very gentle woman. The kind
of woman who wouldn't even let me smash a bug in the house, insisting that I
capture it and release it out the front door. The kind of woman who is cried
at things she saw on the news, cheerful in nature, bouncy and full of zest for
life and fun. I am not trying to say she was some type of stepford woman, she
had her moods and good days and bad days just like anyone. But, she had a
generally gentle and happy nature to her,cared about people and found enjoyment
in life. A sweet and gentle person in appearance and demeanor. But, I think
something came to life in her after that moment.
About a week later Julie told me she wanted to show me something she had made
for me. Made for me!
She had had an old coach purse she didn't like anymore and had taken the purse
strap off and make a small whip with it. The leather had been sliced in to
about 6-7 small very narrow strands at one end, maybe about 5-6 inches long.
She had taken the other end of the purse strap and woven it back down the
length of the strap to create a handle of sorts.
"Its a cock whip, do you like it. I made it for you, so I have something to
whip your cock with. Do you like it...?"
I can't explain what happened in my head that instance. How trapped I felt,
how utterly naked and caught in the headlights. God how I hated her casual
approach to this fetish I had tried to hide and that embarrassed me. I really
could hardly breath, I was embarrassed and excited and humiliated and starting
to have visions of my sweet angel whipping my cock and hurting my balls and
smiling her sweet smile as she caused me pain and I watching her get excited
abusing me feeding my excitement what she would wear and how her hair would look
good pulled back in some stern fashion and would she make me do other things and
what her face would look as she whipped my cock and balls and could I get away
with acting casual about all this right now or should I deny it, yes, deny it,
this is too close, or if I deny my desire did she know too much already and if
I did then all of this wouldn't happen,. ..and......I was just everything all at
the same time?
Julie found that rather amusing. I think she knew already the way that kind
of stuff would made me hot and I think she was had no such history of
repression and I think she also was enjoying my discomfort.
Julie leaned in to me and flicked the whip at the front of my pants. I think
most people have heard about events that happen where the person says that time
stands still. I remember everything about that moment. The way the whip tails
floated through the air, how her hips swelled just a little with her leaning
forward, the way her hair moved at the side of her face, her flexing her wrist
and bringing it forward, the way her smile turned in to a mock stern look and
her eyes had an impish gleam, looking right at where that whip was going to
land. Really, all this, what could it have taken, one, two seconds. No, it
took an eternity, it moved in slow motion and it burned in to my brain in such
a way that today I still recall how the air smelled at that very moment.
Julie watched me and looked from my pant front up to my face and said smiling,
that if I didn't like it she could just throw the thing away, she didn't really
use the purse anymore anyway and it wasn't any big deal. I really was dying.
She wasn't going to just use it on me, surprise me when we were already engaged
in some bondage games and I was restrained and bring it out as a surprise and
not make me say yes or no. That is really the way I had often fantasized I
would get to have some CBT. A helpless victim unable to resist and, then, not
made to reveal I wanted this.
I thought I knew she was maneuvering things, controlling the conversation in
such a way that I was now going to have to admit I wanted her to do that,
wanted my girlfriend to whip my cock, to ask her to whip my cock for me,
because I wanted that, because it turned me on and not because I was forced to
endure it when I could resist.
"So, do you want me to throw it away, or, do you like it?" God what a bitch,
I am not even thinking straight now, my head is really light, this..I had
fantasized about this for years, but, never ever had said a word to any girl I
had dated. And now a moment of truth had arrived. Julie flicked the whip
again across the front of my trousers and smiled looking up at me from her
chair. The end of a couple of strands catch the head of my cock and even
though it was thru my pants, it was like a small jolt of lightening and it made
me jump back.
I was starting to get hard and could feel it and Julie was looking at my pants
and she could see it too. I don't know what I expected at that point. Her to
turn in to a bitch goddess and order me to strip and present my cock for
punishment in a harsh voice. Her to laugh that laugh of hers and chuck the
thing away and it was just a little joke, no more consequential then the play
pats a lover gives another on the way through the door. Her to call me a freak
and a prev and laugh at my erection.
Not Julie, no, she had the caged bird right where she wanted him, or so I
think now, and, he was about to sing a tune she was playing. Or was that it,
or is that my inability to separate long held fantasy scenarios from events
between two lovers that don't have such a neat script.
"Here, just come closer to me, come back next to me." I slowed for a moment
but really, it was almost as if I was hypnotized. Julie had on some regular
summer shorts, and was sitting with her legs crossed and casually holding a
whip in her hands. It is burned in to me in a way I can't describe. I don't
think if she had been in PVC leggings and had on 6 inch heels it would have
held me like this vision of a beautiful woman dressed in casual summer shorts
and a sleeveless top sitting on a chair by the dinner table, holding a whip and
gently asking me to come closer.
I walked closer and stood there waiting. Julie reached her hand over and so
very gently touched the inside of my leg, up high, inches from the bottom of my
balls. I could feel my balls almost seeking that hand, the gentle touch
sending indescribable small waves of pleasure up my back and the warmth
radiating against my leg.
"Just open your legs a little for me."
God, that same sweet voice, that gentle touch, that, that easy way she was in
complete control of me. Some times in life you stand before forces that you do
not control, that you don't understand,beyond the immense power that has seized
you and that are drawn from a spring so elemental and so at the core, you
simply exist in that moment.
I really couldn't believe it to be honest. Perhaps I had always understood
this fetish of mine as a strictly private matter, had gotten use to that and
accepted it as separate from what lovers actually did with each other. Two
separate boxes and they were to be kept apart. I really had long ago given up
the hope that this desire of mine, this need to submit this way, would be
integrated in a real way in to my sex life. Perhaps I had created a separate
place for this deep of a sexual need and longing that I had, and felt it better
to not release the power it held over me.
I know at that moment, when I was opening my legs, I felt, I felt naked in a
way more profound then I think I ever had as an adult.
This was my girlfriend, the woman I dreamed of making passionate love to,
desired to be her protector and to use my maleness to shelter her from any
harm. I was steeped in the culture of my maleness. I don't mean we had a
realtionship based on hard and fast traditional roles. I mean, I had all the
normal male desires to be protector and be strong and be vital in this womans
life.
And, for the most part, we had a regular relationship, we went to movies, we
washed the car, we did laundry. I enjoyed our sex life, and I don't want to act
like I was unhappy. But, see, I had someplace else for this, in my mind, a
professional Domme maybe, who perhaps understood these things better then most
women, or when I was younger, whack off magazines, stories, my imagination. Not
with a regular girlfriend. How would that be the next day, what would she
think of her big strong man after she knew this about him?
I know in fantasy material, it seems like this would be a dream come true.
But, in real life often our deepest and most revealing sexuality we do not
allow to come out in to full sunlight like this. We can't or will not or are
unable to, at least alone without the right situation with the right person at
the right time.
And here I was, like a moth to the flame, unable to stop what was embarrassing
me in a very deep way, standing close and with my legs opened, opened in
response to her gentle touch, opening so my girlfriend, sitting at the table we
eat dinner at, the table where we pay the bills every month, standing there,
unable to stop, my legs open and waiting for her to use her "cock whip" on me.
My eyes fixed on her delicate hand and that "cockwhip I made for you." I
stood waiting, feeling helpless and unable to move away even as I felt silly
standing in front of my girlfriend waiting to have her flick a whip across me.
Julie leaned a little forward and placed one of her hands just under where my
balls were positioned in my pants, letting then more or less rest on her one
palm with just a loose grip. Holding me in position by guidance and by her
soft touch.
She flicked the whip strands back and with a slight movement of her hips, her
weight went forward and the whip strands spread and fanned across the front of
my pants, giving a mild sting, but very light to my cock shaft.
I bucked a bit, but, Julie quickly landed another and then a third and forth
stroke all very quickly. Her hand had tightened a little as I did a bit of a
dance, but, didn't move my feet and stayed.
My cock started growing and my breathing was coming in rapid gulps. Julie's
demeanor started to change too, she let go with a couple of whips using all the
snap and quick wrist flick she could from that position and started asking me,
in her low soft voice, gentle, no harshness to it, all most empathetic, "You
like this don't you, huh, you like me whipping your cock. Is that what you want
Julie to do, Tell me, just go ahead, it okay, tell me what you want me to do,
you want Julie to whip your cock for you, do you, you need your balls punished,
need Julie to hurt your balls... whip your balls...." Gentle as an angel all
the while flicking her cock whip across the front of my pants and her other
warm hand cradling my balls.
I was had. I couldn't move and I couldn't stop my head from spinning. I was
sexually aroused beyond believe, and, I was stripping back layer upon layer of
built up repressed desire. It made me weak.
I mumbled really, in gasps, gasps not from the pain, but, from an inability to
draw myself back from what ever this space was she had taken me too. I had
sank and sank and like those dreams where you try to run but your legs only
move in slow motion, I fought to speak....."ahh...oh...god yes, Julie,
...oh...like that..." in a whisper really, and, jagged.
"Do you want me to keep this whip..for you..I think its nice..." All the while
massaging my balls thru my pants and flicking that damn little leather "cock
whip" across the front of my pants...
"yes, please...keep it,...I want you to keep that..that.. cock whip." I was
really close to cumming and then something interesting happened. We had never
ever discussed orgasm denial and I doubt Julie even knew it was a fetish of
some guys or had heard about it in any formal way. But, she had an instinct
and a will for this gentle kind of control, and, she stopped, she just stopped.
I was lost in a void. I had had my most secrete fetished outed, and, outed
because my need for it was stronger then any humilaition I felt at it being
known by her.
And at my most vulnerable point, at the height of my arousal, at the moment
that my sexual need had over come all my inhibitions and prior judgments about
revealing myself in such a way, the spilling forth of the water behind the damn
that was my repressed desire, at the time I stood naked and afraid and excited
and needy...when she had touched my core.....she just stopped.
I have never figured this woman out. I don't know if she knew what she was
doing, that she had me, I was hooked and she was my pusher and she gave me what
I needed but not a drop more. Or, was it as simple as her casual way. I was
spinning again. I could trip off so easily when in that state, off to fantasy
land with either reason for her stopping really. The heartless tease leaving
me needing more, the casual plaything of hers that had held her interest for a
moment only. Or, was I just superimposing my fantasies on this blank slate.
Did she know what she was doing? Did I even care. I couldn't believe she
stopped.
I would have given her anything right then, I would have offered her up my
naked balls for any abuse she wanted. I would have got down and licked her
feet and begged like a little puppy dog for her to play with me some more. I
felt shamed and released and in debt and humbled and excited by her. She had
taken me to the edge and I was ready to go over with her...I was a jumble of
emotions and physical need and psychological trauma and want and desire
and,,,she stopped.
"Oh. that's all...did you like that..you did didn't you..I think I will keep
this ..it made you really hard ...."
End of Part One
My CBT Revelations 2 It seemed that I had been found out. The need or desire that I had always tried to keep secret was pretty plain to Julie after that mild cock whipping incident she had given to me. Or was it. She had in her usual gentle way made me or allowed me to admit that I wanted her to whip and punish my cock and balls, that that turned me on alot. Did she understand deeper implication of my desires for submission. I didn't know and I wasn't going to be a big grown up boy and discuss it with her either. Probably most men would have thanked their lucky stars, but, it troubled me and I wasn't sure what all the implications now were. We, or more accurately, I, went through a period where I really didn't know exactly how to act toward her. I mean, hadn't everything changed, hadn't we now stepped through the portal and didn't this mean she was now my Domme or that I needed to orientate myself differently toward her, that she had the power and knew the secrete path to my soul and with this could ensalve me, and if she pushed a little I would tumble over like a house of cards. I was so ready to submit, but, I didn't really uinderstand what that meant beyond sexual fantasies I had. I wondered about all that, asked myself if I should adopt some type of outward display of submissiveness. Or if perhaps Julie liked it better if we acted a "normal" couple and saved the cock whipping and ball torments for our private time. I really went through a fumbling around period with this. This woman had touched me through my sexuality like no one before. I felt like a school boy often, all want and desire and not really having a clue as to how to proceed or how to get or offer what I wanted. My sexual fantasies where unleashed, and, having gotten a taste of what it would be like to actualize the things I had thought about for so long, repressed for so long, I do believe I started to lose track internally of where fantasy started and ended and where my real relationship with this woman was. But, Julie pretty much seemed unchanged on a day to day basis. Her usual grace and easy going manner was still there the next day and the next day and we did quite regular things together. I wondered about that at the time, wondered if I was making to much of this, didn't it affect her like it did me, didn't she want to move further in to this exciting realm we had opened up. Maybe she was doing this on purpose, to toy with me, or maybe she didn't understand the power of that first outing. But, really, looking back on it, Julie was had a wonderful calming effect on me and over time some of the overwhelming release I had felt at my initial outing and my first taste of CBT started to settle. I started to see her again as my girlfriend and as a person and as a woman not as just am element of my fantasy world. I really think had we jumped as fast as I wanted, and, had Julie not displayed her normal good balance and mild persona, I could have easily lost sight of the fact that she was a woman and a person and needed and wanted a real relationship with me and I would have quickly as possible turned her in to my very own walking wet dream. Chalk that up to my lack of maturity and the fact that I was quite overwhelmed with confusing and powerful forces I did not know how to handle. But, I did see, after a while, that Julie wasn't going to turn in to leather wearing whip cracking fetish queen for me on a daily basis, and that she would still get sad at the news and still want to cuddle sometimes and still like romantic movies and long slow kissing and everything that had been part of her, and us, before. I could explain a lot about the progression that lead up to the next few times I enjoyed (or suffered) CBT at Julie's hands. But, let's just say that over time we played with different things and a few of them even to this day make me long for a woman who understand my needs and the dramatic tension I craved when it came to CBT and submission, as well as this woman did so many years ago. She was quite creative in thinking up ways to torment and humiliate me. I haven't talked much about some of the humiliations, but, that came later and I craved every bit of it as well. And, I think the things that seemed most unique about Julie then was the way all her games seemed to contain a certain element of granting my wishes, and allowing me to confront my own darker and dual desires. Not to let my fetishes ultimately humiliate me, and, yet, the need I had to reveal myself in this way to her if I really wanted to actually taste it. There was alway escape, and I was never "forced" or "ordered" or even suggested to do anything. Her style of control over me was her knowledge of my need, her understanding of something at my core that craved her affectionate style of tormenting and humbling me and the way she did this by making me reveal it to her. I even had a need to struggle with my desires if the play was to be ultimately satisfying. And, in each and every game that we played, it was clear somehow or somewhere in the nature of the play that I wanted and needed this from her. Julie's trick (?) was to be kind and gentle and caring, and, control and humble me at my request. I really think that at any time if I had quietly withdrawn these things back in to myself, Julie wouldn't have pushed me and we would go back to our more conventional sex life. Or perhaps she knew me better and understood that my cravings had been given a small taste of freedom and that the hunger would grow. I never have figured out what she understood and what she didn't. Still, with a sweet smile and a warm hand, she slowly started gaining control of me, and, as frightening as this was for me at times, I couldn't resist a growing desire inside myself to give more of that control to her. The dramatic tension was often psychological, the revealing of my embarrassing fetishes in a quite plain and open way, which always and to this day humiliates me. And, physical too, in that I enjoyed the way she would design things so that I, I had to ask to endured certain sufferings and got certain pleasures, but, didn't get the pleasure without the suffering. When I could withstand the suffering, the pleasure was so sweet as to be indescribable. Perhaps a description of one of her games would serve to better illustrate the tension and the revelation that always seemed to be present in some form with this woman. Shortly after the first outing, we started playing other games, and Julie discovered I had quite a strong fetish for other forms of having my cock and balls tortured and that I also loved to be slowly masturbated. Never one to miss a chance to offer me the most agonizing way to realize my desires, she soon developed a little game for me. I lay on the bed with my wrists tied to the headboard and my legs bound spread apart and open. Julie would often dress up in some nice lingerie, but, nothing really very fetish. It was quite lovely on her, but, it was pretty tame in some ways by today's fashions. She would sit on the side of the bed and make a little production out of removing her rings and coating her hands and fingers with oil. Then she would very gently and slowly starts to massage my cock and my balls, using plenty of warm massage oil, and working up and down my shaft and the massaging the front and back of my balls. I would be in heaven. Really, I would lay my head back on the pillow and feel every muscle in my body release. I didn't know much about anatomy then, and, to be honest didn't even know what my prostate was, but, I knew when Julie would rub the tip of her finger across that little place up under my balls, I was in unable to do anything but lay like one of those big dogs that roll over legs up when you rub their tummy. This would go on for 10 minutes of so, and I would love every gentle touch and caress, sinking deeper and deeper in to this pleasure zone she created for me. But, something else was happening to. The tension had left my muscles and after a period of relaxation, the warm caresses and stroking would start to get me aroused. I started to want the sensations to pick up a bit, faster or with a variation in forcefulness. Julie's masturbating at this point is quite slow and her hand very light. And, after what seemed to be like 10 minutes or so, she takes my balls in the palm of one of her hands and continues to milk me with the other. I think she could tell when I was starting to get restless and when the cock and ball massage needed to end and her torment begin. Her game went like this. She isn't milking me hard or fast enough for me to actually get off. If she would stroke me and gently hold my balls like this for a long time but never would there be enough pressure or the stroking fast enough for me to orgasm. I could ask her at any time to stroke faster, or, to use more pressure on my cock as she strokes. She would then stroke and caress my cock exactly as I ask. However, the pressure of her grip on my balls increased, directly proportional to the speed and force at which she is going to stroke me. If I want it faster, I have to ask, and, she would slowly increase her speed. And her grip on my balls will increase too. If I wanted more pressure from her hand stroking my cock up and down, I would ask and she gladly applies the pressure or increases the speed, teasing me about it as she gripped my balls harder, or twists my ball sac, or digs her nails in to my skin. Like wise, I could ask at any time for her to slow down, then speed up, then slow down, however I desired the masturbation to go on. If I asked her to slow down, she would and the pressure on my balls would lessened, if I asked her to then speed up, she would and grip my balls became harder. Howevr I asked, she would do, but, my balls would be tortured to the same degree as I was being masturbated. I can't tell you the way this game of hers use to get to me. Can you hate something and love it at the same time. Can you look forward to something for days on end and then feel the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when you can actually have it. I think in some ways it could be compared to the feeling one has right before they begin on some carnival ride. The exhilaration, the fear, the anticipation. Julie learned quickly to read my responses and to judge how long and what motion and speed and forcefulness I needed in order to get off. And, over time she adjusted this game to the point where, I would not, absolutely not, get to have my orgasm if I did not take a fair amount of ball torture. I would try to fool her, acting like the pain was more then it actually was in order to try to adjust her proportional ball squeezes to a lower scale. Or, I would tell her that her stroking wasn't fast or hard enough when really I could soon get off if she would continue with just that pressure and speed a few more strokes. But, we have played this game too often, and, she knew what I need and about how long it would take me. I think voices are important and for that I can thank Julie too. She would use her voice often and knew it could affect me, using it to get me as excited as she could and wanting and needing to cum. She had kind of a high, or "girlish" voice, not sultry or low, but, used that to great effect, teasing me about "are my little balls hurting" or "do you like that, when I stroke you like that...you ready for some more." What ever the commentary, her voice got me going too. I hated the game but couldn't resist because it contained all the elements that aroused me and still it caused me to have to confront myself. I had a certain control, the level of pain I could or would take, the speed and forcefulness of the stroking. And, I craved a certain amout of ball torture. But, Julie controlled too, controlled my right to orgasm. And, she understood something else I think. As a man builds to orgasm, he loses most prespective on any thing else. Other stimuli and such fade more in to the background and the release become primary. She designed a game to take advantage of that, and was good at finding the edge where the need to release was causing other things to fade, but, the pain couln't be ingnored because it was becoming too great. The internal fight would rack me, the turmoil this caused was unnerving and upset balances programed in to me by nature and by previous experience. It was often a constant battle with myself over the course of an hour to see if I could take the punishment she is giving to my balls, which she loves delivering, so I can feel her soft sweet hand stroking me to orgasm. or, if it would be too much. The first few times we played I used a stair step method of building to my orgasm. or, I should say I tried to. I endured havimy balls squeezed and my sac pulled down and the skim at the bottom of my ball sac twisted and pinched, to a certain point of arousal, and then I would ask her to back off a bit and recover, gathering my strength for a new assult. I had thought that the prior excitement would make the second assult quicker and I could cheat the ball torture and get my orgasm. I hadn't thought that through very well, as, it might be true that each time down the stairs I didn't go all the way, and, thus was closer on the next journey up to my release. But, each time back up those stairs my balls also retained some of the soreness from the last assult and I could take less. I then thought I would just go for it all at once. I wouldn't retain that dreaded soreness and dull aching that had built up, and would be able to endure through the ball squeezing and pulling long enough to get over. That didn't work either, as Julie easily saw the method I was attempting to use and like the game was desinged, adjusted her torments. I didn't know then what a parachute was, but, now I understand it effectiveness quite well. Julie ringed her fingers around the top of just one of my balls, loosly, and started a slow pulling motion, pullingh down and tightening her finger ring at ther tip of my ball. Then she would slide her fingers back up to the top just where my ball started and slowly pull down again. She was stroking me hard and fast and I remember feeling at the time that I can take this, I even like the sensation she is causing my ball. At first. But, she was stretching on the downward pull a little more each time and as close as I was to spurting like a gyser, I couldn't take it and panted out for her to go lighter...Julie won out that time, as hot as I was, I broke down and I couldn't take any more of that torment and I didn't get to cum. I had had a few times where, as much as I battled myself to go on and get that sweet release, as much as I craved the masturbation and, even had an arousal factor watching her squeeze and twist my balls in her pretty little hand, that as much as I craved her little hands stroking me and jerking my cock, I couldn't take her hurting my balls anymore. I had a few times where I had such a need to orgasm, I was in such a high state of arousal, that I passed throught the pain and she was she gave me a complete and mind boggling hand job to completion. She never gamed me and her ball torments where always with in a scale I started to understand and get familar with and were consistent for the most part. Well, except for perhaps the one time she used some chop sticks to bind my balls front and back and then used a third one to ping the me right in the middle of one of my balls. God that makes me shutter even now. But, that is a different story. Keep in mind, this game could go on for a while, really as long as I wanted. There was no prohibition of back tracking and requesting lighter strokes or a less forceful hold on my cock, and thus milder ball torture. I could ask her to ease up on my cock shaft, and, then she would ease up on my balls, and, then, when I was ready again, ask for harder masturbation and, consequently, the ball torments would increase. And, there were many levels along the way between the very light stroking and no ball torture and the heavy forceful stroking and hard ball torment. It was like climbing stairs. We had times where we played this game for over an hour. And Julie never wavered or tired of it or stopped before I either said I couldn't take any more and when I did endure, she stroked me to a wonderful orasm. And, when I endure, there was a bonus. She was quite accomadating as a lover and if I endured to orgasm, we could have sex as much as i wanted the next few days. The times I did call a stop, because my balls were too sore and I couldn't make another attempt to ascend those stairs, she would not want to have any other kind of sex for a few days, that would "ruin" our game and be "cheating" as she said. And Julie would be quite content to untie me and really leave me high and dry, and, walk away from it. She was always very sweet about not going on, and never once did she continue past when I asked to stop. She was also a cold hearted bitch about making sure my balls were aching and sore the times I did endure and cum. And god did I cum those times. I often at first would be very frustrated. I mean in a real way, quite cross and saying enough of the game and let's stop this now and just make love...or, I would plead and really beg her ...ask her just this once please...Julie never once gave in to my pleading or asking just this once either, and, I DIDN'T cum. I think she enjoyed that alot, knowing how sexually frustrated I was. After an hour of so my balls would ache from the torment, and, from the need to release my sperm, and I would want her so bad. I don't know if women have the same type of experience when they have been aroused and brought up and down the scale for about an hour and then don't have the release they crave. I can't explain how overwhelming this is to a man and how we can literally think of nothing else for a while but getting satisfaction. I never once made love to her on a day or night we played that game and I had had to quit. Often she made me go for a few days with no sexual contact with her. And, in a gentle way she would tease me about it later, asking me if I was hot for her and making cracks about blue balls and such. One time, after I had stopped the game, the next day she came in to the room with a tennis ball and making sure I was looking, but with out a word, started squeezing the ball in the plam of her hand and smiling. I found another fetish I have along the way with this. I found it incrediably arousing when she denied me sex. It was almost like at those times my balls belonged to her and they were at her beck and call. I liked this alot, feeling like she had ownership of my sex organs. This little slip of woman controlling some big brute like me. The way she teased me and left me aroused and frustrated and aching yet she decided, This was a strange feeling to me, unlike the power arrangement in any relationship I had ever had, and, it made me even more aroused. I don't understand that at all. I was very frustrated and in a real way, and, sometimes I was quite cross about it, yet, something about her denial of sex and her control of my cock and balls, the essence of my maleness in a fashion, made me randy as hell. I often wondered why she didn't take more advantage of that. When I felt that way I would have gladly gotten on my knees and given her what ever pleasure I could have. I mean, she could have had me kneeling and whorshipping her until she had as many orgasms as she wanted. And if she had saw fit to make me work till she had 3 or 4 orgasms and then said goodnight and left me panting and hard and unsatisfied, I would have been on my knees again the next day with even more enthusiasm. Julie wasn't like that though. She would deny me sex after I had quit the game, and wouldn't ask for any herself and wouldn't really go out of her way in any fashion to tease me too much. Just wait as her style was, perhaps some gentle teasings, while my insides did loop de loops and I worked my way back to requesting something from her. I learned after a few times that when I didn't take the torture, I didn't cum, and, I didn't cum for a few days. That would be cheating and ruin our game. And it would work on me, the visual images I took with me from the last game, the pent up desire to orgasm, the thrill of the whole experience still in me, and, really, a building need to submit myself. Beyond the orgasm, I mean, I found that I wanted to have her have me and torment me and take control of all of our sex life for her enjoyment. I had this need. After a couple of days, I needed it again. And one way was to ask to play again. It worked on me inside, it made me hot to have her deny me like this and frustrated me and it flooded me with images of a cruel angel torturing me for her glee. I think often after a break of a bit, the ideas of having her torture my balls and the remembrance of how it looked and having my most intimate body parts subjected to cruel torments of a woman who enjoyed extracting that from me, that got me so excited I somewhat forgot how much I hated the pain. But, like other things that happened between us, Julie understood that tension and was patient and eventually, my need for this play and for submission came roaring back full force. And, I would ask her, embarrassed, humbled in some ways, and not boldly at all, I would ask her if she will play again. Which always causes a smile and she often would say something like "are you sure, you didn't want me to go on last time," or, she would tease me and show me her hand making a squeezing motion and say "...I'm really going to make you suffer this time" I would get hard just seeing her do that, hearing those words, and watching her hand make that motion. Sometimes, after a few days, if we haven't done anything else and I have had no release, I suffering long and hard for my cum and my balls were sore for days. I would sit at my work and wonder how such a sweet things could enjoy hurting me like that, and why I craved it so. And I would be so hot it made it hard to work. Once or twice she called me at work and asked me how my balls were. Did I enjoy it and she would wait, wait till I answered. That embarrassed me too. I know I always had to ask and, it was my fetish that was being fed, but, I know the looks she would have and the satisfaction Julie got by torturing my balls. I think we fed each other, that she needed me to need this from her in order to find satisfaction and fulfillment and I needed someone who got excited by doing this to me and how that got me even more excited, and god did I need to have a wonderful woman who enjoyed being cruel to me in the bedroom. I think she knew too that she had me right where she wanted me with this game. It appealed to me psychologically and physically both. It was quite a perfect game for my makeup and I was in cosntant turmoil to turn away from it and yet, it was always me, each and everytime that asked for it. And, I have never met any other woman who wants to play like that, that understood dominance in term of psychological control and could find so many ways to make me walk the razor's edge like that. Julie told me once that she wouldn't mind watching another woman doing that to me, but, really, I wouldn't have known how to ask. I am a pretty big guy, six foot 2 inches, I probably was about 210 lbs then and quite fit. I sort of had a reputation for being aggressive in life and at my work. But, I am shy around women and this embarrassed me, this part of me. I don't think I would ever had really just plain out asked even Julie, we more or less stumbled in to some of this, or Julie had taken control of its introduction and I wasn't aware of her leading me to this. I think she enjoyed being cruel, even if she acted often like it was my little game. I think she was a nice sweet wonderful person she enjoyed sexual cruelty and was intelligent enough to understand that the sweet spot of her desire was making me reveal how much I needed her to be that way with me. Its almost a cruelty in its own way. I know, as much as I had a love/hate thing with her little hands torturing my balls, some things stayed with me from those sessions long after they ended. I would sometimes look at her when we are out doing something, maybe in a group and we were across the room from each other, I would look at her, that sweet smile, the animated way she interacted, or just watch those litle hands tuck a stray bit of hair behind her ear, so attractive and feminine loking, a healthy athletic all American girl type, and my mind would flash in on remembering her, and me, alone, me tied down and Julie sitting on the side of the bed, cupping my balls in that little soft hand, and, the way she likes to hurt them and abuse me for my orgasm, and, really, to be honest, it would just make me hard as hell. The events described above happened a long time ago, but, to set the stage of where I was at emotionally, we are about 1 year in to our relationship now, and, I wanted this to go further, I had much more territory to explore. I don't really know how to approch it. I am at this point not even clear if we are entering in to what I now know is called a D/s relationship, (I had no idea there were relationships like that then) or, if we are just playing kinky games. I am having trouble not being overwhelmed and sending my flood of sexual fantasies to rest upon her, and upon our relationship and am in danger of losing myself in sexual fantasy with this woman. I mean, imposing the sexual fantasies as the dominant theme of our relating, and, not the man to woman or person to person relationship it had been before, with the sex being only one part of it. This is powerful stuff to me and it has me off balance. Some days all I can think about is sexual submission to this woman. In a more intense way and in a more complete way. This is beyond things i had felt before. I want her to be bold and take control of me, and I fantasize about that a lot, different themes. Yet, I am also very much aware that I crave her quiet gentle style as well, and, I want her to slowly spin her web too. Is she doing that? I don't know even that. I feel this need to serve this woman. And, I didn't know if she understood that desire, or where I was headed, or, where we were headed, or if we were headed anywhere. Or had Julie had simply found some things she knew I liked and did them. I wanted things, but, I didn't really know what it was. I was constantly hungering and I wanted to be fed quickly. I knew that her general style and way of doing things was different then that. I think I could be compared to, well, perhaps to a great big old rock tumbling down a hill side. I tend to gather speed and head in the direction I am going with full force, thrashing over things and crushing anything in my way. Julie, for all the ways she now had this control of me, she wasn't forceful like that. More like water, slowly flowing out and filling in and finding and seeping in to all the little recesses and hidden nooks. At this point, she has me and I was really scared about that and scared about the forces that I had been feeling released in myself.
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