A Learning Curve

I recognize that with every fantastic reward, there is always sacrifice.  You don't get where you want to go in life without paying some sort of a price.  And nothing worth having isn't worth a little struggle to get.  I could be talking about any number of things.  Working out, having a more fit physique.  Or working hard and getting ahead in your career and making lots more money.  But instead, I'm talking about being a good slave to my Master and being obedient and not thinking about cumming 45,000 times a day.

I admit.  I have a problem.  I'm addicted to masturbating.  I've been doing it almost every single day since I was 12.  And probably, really, most days more than once.  And when I say masturbating, I don't even just mean rubbing one out.  I pretty much would cum between 4-12 times a day.  Every.  Day.  And okay, I'll admit, seeing those numbers put in front of me like that does make me see that's a bit excessive.  I mean, I realized not that long ago that not every woman even really wants to cum every day. (I was shocked at that!)  And I also know that playing with myself was my go-to stress reliever, distraction from difficulties, and just generally what I do when I'm bored or can't sleep.

My Master is teaching me some very important lessons.  One of which is I'm a terribly selfish girl and I need to be more concerned with His sexual satisfaction and His contentment than my own.  And it's true.  I do want to make him cum every single day.  Multiple times a day.  And maybe then I could have a play, too.  I realize this may seem like an ulterior motive and I'm not saying I want him to cum SO I can cum.  Merely that I think we should both cum a few times a day.  The world would be a better place if everyone had a few more orgasms.  I know it sure puts me in a good mood and makes me less inclined to punch people in the neck.

But it's also come to my attention how MUCH TIME I've been wasting playing every day.  Even if I only stop my day for ten minutes here or fifteen minutes there.  A couple of those little mini sessions a day and I'm looking at close to an hour.  And of course, after a good solo play session, I'm not exactly at peak performance as far as brain function and efficiency, so you have to factor in the I've just cum four times and I'm lazy syndrome.

And I love giving Mr. G control over me.  I love who I am, being his.  I'm not only a less self-indulgent person, I also just generally take better care of myself.  I don't drink too much or eat junk food nearly as often.  I am conscious of how I present myself, knowing I represent Him in the world now.  And I am more conscious about not wanting to be rude.  (The fact that Mr.G is British and terribly polite helps.  I am, in fact, a loud, rude American and I hate that about myself.  I wish I could be quiet and demure, but that's not really my personality.  But I do find myself toning down quite a bit and not interrupting people even half as much as I used to.) 

But I have been struggling with this orgasm thing.  And don't get me wrong.  My Master is a generous man.  He definitely could be cruel and literally break me by never letting me cum again.  Or saying I can only cum when I'm *with* him (i.e. a few weeks a year or so)  But even so, just going from that cumming as many times as I want a day to cumming only when he says I may is still very difficult for me.  I want to be his good girl more than anything in the world.  And I love when he gives me tasks to do, to improve myself as a person and as his slave.  I feel so weak and slutty when I admit to him that I've not even been able to practice kneeling for him because I didn't trust myself to get naked or anywhere near my toys.  And he knows I'm weak and have no self control.  That's why he's trying to help me with this.  But it's like whenever you pray for patience, then everything in the universe works to test your patience to show you how much patience you truly have. 

It's just so odd for me.  I don't know how else to say it, but odd.  Because on the one hand, he reduces me to a quivering mass of flesh that just surrounds holes that need filling by him.  He can say something to me that makes me want to take my clothes off and beg him to fuck me now, please.  Just his control over me, telling me I can't cum unless he says I can, turns me on!  Now, isn't that the shit.  I can't cum, but being told I can't only makes me want to more.  And I hate hearing the disappointment in his voice when I talk about wanting to cum.  And he's right, it's just cumming.  It's not like he's said I can't drink water ever again or I can't eat solid food ever again or something.  But I can get myself worked up into a good tizzy, wanting to so badly, obsessing over it, really.  Almost like a food addict, planning my next meal.  I wonder when and how he may let me cum next.   I know this sounds pathetic and sad and I acknowledge that.  I'm lucky to have Mr. G in my life, helping me realize there's more to life than orgasms.

Isn't that ironic?  I am leading what most would say is an alternative sexual lifestyle, only to be learning the lesson that sex isn't everything.  I just wish exercising was as cathartic as cumming.  I've been trying to convince myself that a good workout is just as rewarding as a good play, even more so.  My pussy seems to disagree.  But, alas, my pussy doesn't get to have a say anymore, unless it's merely, "Thank you, sir."