how crazy can you get?

i spent all day yesterday desperately looking forward to the evening when i could finally jerk-off and cum, or so i thought.

Then, at the last minute, i started wondering if i could have possibly misunderstood Her instructions and so wrote an email to double-check on Her permission [see yesterday's post]. And this, in part, is the reply i received:

"my little boy, what am I going to do with you?

The provision to jerk and cum (every other day) was indeed for ONE week, and the week is OVER.

You are back on the twice a day schedule of 15 minutes and not cumming without my presence or permission."

Getting that email was like a blow to the gut. i literally doubled-over at my desk, my mid-section clenching and caving back.

To have Her hand come falling down, shoving me back into denial, right when i thought i was on the verge of release, sent a shock of pain right through me. It was so bad that, had i been enough of a man, i would have started to cry in frustration on the spot.

And then the worst thing happened, or the best, depending up on your perspective. A warm erotic glow flowed over me, and a sexual rush traveled up my spine, up and over the back of my head, and gripped my forehead.

It was an insanely intimate moment. It seemed like she had very lovingly focused her attention on me, and i felt as if she was very close. Of all Her gifts, i most desire Her love and attention, and apparently i am wired to accept that through sexual suffering imposed by Her.

i now walk around in a sexual craze. my gut is tied in knots. Denial and forced submission produces a frustration that aches and hurts constantly. As a result, i constantly get turned on. I constantly swing back and forth between surges of painful frustration and erotic charge.

Wanking off last night and this morning, in particular, was next to impossible. i spent more time waiting to calm down, to avoid cumming, than i did wanking.

i remember reading a column once by Dan Savage, in which a reader asked him about their fetish for submission and what they should do about it. Savage replied by noting that it might be possible to eliminate the fetish through five years of therapy (and the requisite $50,000) but that it might be easier, cheaper and just as well to accept and live with the state of affairs.

Apparently, the equation, for me, is:

sexual suffering + Her attention = my happiness.

Just how crazy can one get?